"Thank you. I just might do that." Mira's eyes were bright with friendship as she took her leave.
Quickly, Kiara exchanged her gown for the black battlesuit. After she finished lacing the front, she opened the door and entered the corridor to meet her escort. Nykyrian pushed himself away from the far wall.
Kiara blushed as she realized how disheveled she appeared to him. She glanced down at the suit. Obviously designed for a man, it trailed to the ground and fit her like a large sack. Heaven only knew what her face looked like after the way Chenz had played Griball with it.
Her dance promoters would definitely abandon her if they ever glimpsed her in such a state. How many times had they told her she was an im age and her im age must always be preserved.
Well, it couldn't be helped.
Recovering her lost vanity with a shake of her head, she looked back at her escort.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice reverberating in her mind, scorching her with its rich, refined tone.
Kiara licked her lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss a dangerous assassin.
She had heard many tales about the League's most prized soldiers. They were a free lot, trained to kill political targets and jealously protected as the League's most valuable commodity. Kiara wondered what kind of man could defy the nefarious League that protected and intimidated all governments with its military power. Even her own father, who had more courage than most, refused to disobey a League directive.
For a moment, she thought Nykyrian might answer her unconscious summons for a kiss.
Then the most incredible thing happened, he moved away.
Kiara frowned in confusion, her cheeks warming from his rejection.
Nykyrian paused a few feet away from her. "Don't just stand there," he chided. "You need to get home. Your father was very worried."
"You called him?" Kiara asked, shocked he would be so considerate.
"Rachol did," he said before continuing down the hallway.
Kiara was miffed by his easy dismissal of her. She had to struggle to keep up with his long strides which rapidly took him down the corridor to a large, landing bay.
Nykyrian led her to a black fighter in the far left corner. They passed several people, but no one spoke a greeting to Nykyrian. Kiara thought about Mira's words. No wonder the man was distant.
He released the cockpit hatch by pressing a button on the side of the craft then placed his hands around her waist to lift her up to the ladder. The heat of his strong hands through the material of her suit, thrilled her. The gentle pressure massaged her skin, and stole her breath.
Stop it, she told herself, he's not the first man to hold you. A small smile curved her lips.
No he wasn't, but he was definitely one of the most intriguing.
Finally gaining a m odicum of control over her tumultuous emotions, Kiara climbed to the top. She paused in confusion.
She looked down to where Nykyrian stood on the ground, oblivious to her.
Uncertainty filled her as she glanced back at the one seat inside the fighter. Was this the correct ship? Where was she supposed to sit, his lap? Warmth rushed through her at the thought.
"Sit forward on the seat," Nykyrian instructed from below as he finally noticed her hesitation.
She did as ordered.
From her seated position, Kiara saw someone come forward with two helmets and a computer log. Nykyrian quickly signed the log, grabbed the helmets and joined her.
Trying to distract herself from the warm body squeezing in behind her, she studied the ship's controls. The main panel reminded her of a museum piece. She hadn't noticed how old this craft was.
Nykyrian must have noticed her interest, because he said quietly, "It's a Bertraud Trebuchet Fighter."
"I thought they quit making them years ago and the only one to survive was sold to Nemesis."
"We're good friends," he said in a strange tone that made her wonder if they were lovers.
Before she could ask him another question, he placed a helmet over her head. Kiara could feel his arms moving behind her and realized he was removing his glasses.
Curious, she tried to turn around.
"Don't!" he snapped.
Kiara stiffened.
Her agitation melted as his strong arms came around her to flip the switches in front of her.
With a deafening roar, the engines fired, then settled down to a soft whir. In the crackling distortion filling her ears, she heard the controller's voice through the intercom in her helmet.
She leaned back. Nykyrian's body jerked at the unexpected contact. A wicked smile curved Kiara's lips. Well, he wasn't quite as oblivious to her as he pretended.
Nykyrian was instantly inflamed by her body pressed against his own. God, he was an idiot! Why didn't he think to borrow Jayne's double-seated fighter? Could he make it to Gouran without his hormones taking over his com mon sense?
He forced his thoughts from the soft body molded against his and gave full attention to the directive for launch.