Wicmon took her hand and placed a sloppy kiss over her knuckles. "I was so disappointed you pulled out of the show," he said, a lecherous look on his face. "I had so hoped to become better acquainted with you."
Kiara tried to tactfully withdraw her hand, but his grip tightened. She admitted he was handsom e, if he just didn't have that cold, calculating look behind his clear blue eyes.
And at the moment, she felt like a cornered gimfry. How was she going to extract herself from him without offending him?
Fretting, she looked up to see Nykyrian moving toward them. A smile curved her lips as he stopped next to them. "Kiara, Tiyana was looking for you."
Anger clouded Wicmon's eyes at the interruption. He turned around, then took a step back.
Kiara stifled her laughter at his reaction. No doubt he had assumed Nykyrian would be another dancer he could intimidate. As it was, all he could do was gape.
"If you'll excuse me, Wicmon," she said, sidestepping him, her heart pounding in relief.
"Thank you," she whispered to Nykyrian as soon as they were out of Wicmon's hearing.
"How did you know to com e over?"
He shrugged. "You looked uncomfortable."
With adoring eyes at his concern and action, she stared up at him. She ached to kiss him for his kindness. "I owe you."
Now, he looked uncomfortable. Without a word and to her greatest dismay, he moved away from her. Kiara wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. How could he be so kind one m oment, then aloof the next?
In extreme aggravation, she started toward the balcony. Out of the crowd, a rough hand gripped her elbow. Kiara was tempted to cry out, but assum ed it was just another promoter.
"I knew we'd meet again."
Her blood drained from her face as her heart pounded. Pitala. Two thoughts shot through her mind at the same time. One was the fear he would kill her, the other was the fear she would live and this episode would end her career.
She felt a sharp jab in her ribs.
"Walk outside to the hallway like you want to talk to me. No sudden moves or I pull the trigger and spray your guts all over your friend's flat."
Kiara nodded, her heart lodged in her throat. She looked about for Nykyrian, but he seemed to have vanished. What kind of protector was he? Sweat beaded on her body as she moved to do what she had been told.
She prayed no one would approach them. Glancing sideways, she noticed Pitala was dressed in an expensive suit, his hair tied back into a sleek ponytail. To the casual observer, he would pass for either an aristocrat or a wealthy promoter.
Fear choked her as tears gathered in her eyes. Fiercely, she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming or begging for help.
Kiara neared the door. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple. If she crossed the threshold, she knew Pitala would kill her. If she struggled inside Tiyana's flat, everyone would see— the promoters, the directors, everyone.
Her life or her career? She chewed her lip in indecision. Without her career, what kind of life would she have? With that final thought, she opened the door.
Pitala pushed her through, then slammed the door shut behind him. Kiara hit the floor.
Her entire body trembling, she looked up to where Pitala was turning around to face her and then she saw Nykyrian hiding beside the door.
He grabbed Pitala's blaster from his hand and brought his own blaster up under the man's chin. "I'm only going to say this once," Nykyrian said, his voice lethal. "Kiara is under the protection of the OMG. If you harm her, threaten her, even look at her again, you're going to have a visit from Nemesis. A visit you will long regret and remember."
Even Kiara cringed at the threat.
Nykyrian's lips curled into a ferocious snarl. "You'll find your partner down the hall locked in a storage closet. Take him and leave. And if you value all the pieces of your body remaining in their current positions, you'll revoke your contract on her life tomorrow." He clicked back the release of his gun. "Do you understand?"
Sweat covered Pitala's face. "My retraction will be posted tomorrow. I swear it."
Nykyrian replaced the latch on his blaster. "Good," he said, shoving Pitala away from him.
Kiara watched the assassin hurry down the hall away from them. She looked up at her savior, her breathing labored, her head light in panic.
Nykyrian holstered his blaster, then held his hand out to her. She grasped it with her shaking hands, and he gently pulled her off the floor. "I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner," he said quietly. "But I didn't think you wanted your friends to know what was going on." Before he could move away and before she could stop herself, she put her arms around him and hugged his lean waist with all the relief coursing through her body.
"Most of them aren't my friends," she said, coming to the awful realization. "They're back-biting, two-faced, soulless mongrels who aren't much better than Pitala."
Kiara leaned her cheek against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat.