If she had a fan and a free arm, she’d hit him with it. Instead she let her laugh tinkle like raindrops. She dipped her shoulder at the other man who grinned, lapping her coquette up. God, she hated these parties.
The event was well-attended; chatter lent a lively ambience to the room. Right now, it was cocktails and games, then the auction would start, and after that, the dinner and dancing.
An unexpected lull came over the room. Medora looked from the man who’d been chatting about Roth IRAs and scanned the crowd. Everyone’s attention turned to the large doorway.
Medora disengaged her arms from the men and turned to see what the fuss was about.
She had to channel every Russian princess for the last century to remain dignified at the sight of Jerik entering the main room. A Krinar in black tie. She would cross it off her bucket list. She needed only seconds to realize the stir this would create. Humans with Heart occasionally received backlash for refusing Krinar government money in the form of bad press. Usually Daddy or herself could quell it with some selective soundbites. It would be bad form indeed if the guests here were to give Jerik the cut. It was on her to be gracious.
She put her blinding smile on. The one the paparazzi went orgasmic over and turned her full attention to Jerik. With hands stretched toward him, she gracefully approached him.
“Mr. Jerik, what a lovely surprise!” Medora noticed the silence in the room like a pregnant pause, and then conversations resumed. If she and Jerik were the subjects of said conversations, then so be it. “I wasn’t expecting you!”
His gaze left her feeling more naked than when she’d been prancing around her apartment in her pink panties. His black pupils swallowed up the amber irises. He wasn’t smiling.
She held on to her years of poise and took his arm. “Come. You must meet Daddy and some others,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t quaver like she felt her heart doing. “Everyone will be delighted.”
Already, Medora heard and saw the flashes of phone cameras and the cameras from the press who came to the charity events. Any publicity is good publicity, she thought to herself. She refused to look up at Jerik. It would give her an awful crick, and she had the sinking feeling he was still not smiling.
“You ignored my text.”
Medora stopped and turned to him. Pasting a pleasant smile on her face for the benefit of the cameras, she spoke through her teeth. “I was busy all day getting ready for the party. You don’t own me, Mr. Jerik, and you never will.”
Jerik’s expression looked thunderous for a split second, and Medora knew fear. Then it passed, and he smiled down at her. “Please call me Jerik. No prefix is necessary,” he said and took her elbow in hand. He squeezed just right, not too hard nor too gentle. “Naturally you are correct. I do not wish to own you. Only fuck you.”
She tripped.
Thank God her mother was long gone. Fifteen years of finishing school. Dance lessons. Yoga practice. Debutante balls. A stint of beauty pageants in her childhood. Two years with the Joffrey Ballet Company. She wore heels to bed sometimes. And here she was, about to faceplant on the posh floor of the Chicago Underground with press from twenty different media corporations ready to snapchat the moment her dress flipped up to reveal her bright red lace thong—in high definition digital format ready to distribute across the globe in seconds via Krinar-enhanced satellite technology.
And then Jerik caught her. With a deft twist of the wrist, he had her in a romantic pose and smiled at her like she was the moon and the sun on a faraway planet.
She smiled anew as he lifted her to her feet like the whole thing was choreographed.
“Thank you,” she whispered when he bent his face close to hers to ask if she was all right.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. “I shocked you.”
She laughed her first real laugh of the night. “An understatement.”
“I thought I made myself clear in your apartment,” he went on. “And at the café.”
“Ah, well,” Medora said and wished she really did have a fan. Next charity event, she was going Oriental. “Now there is no question whatsoever.”
She chanced a look up at him, and he wore a smile.
“However, you don’t have the whole picture. You will change your mind.” Medora continued walking with Jerik at her side.
“I doubt it.”
She stopped and faced him, then reached a hand to his chest, right over his heart. It was a tender gesture.
“I’m a virgin…”
“Not a problem.”
She frowned up at him. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m not having sex until my wedding night.” If possible, her big smile got even wider when she registered his expression.
It was something like shock mixed with disbelief mixed with disappointment. Then she saw a calculating glint pass over his eyes before it disappeared. Maybe she imagined it.
She took a step back.
Before he could respond, her father joined them.
“Daddy, this is my friend Jerik,” she said. “He helped me the other day when I fell and skinned both knees.”
Jerik held his hand out, and her father grasped it firmly.
“She left out the part where I was the one who pushed her down,” Jerik said with a sheepish smile.
Medora raised her brows at him. “Oh stop; it was an accident.”
“It’s true,” he said with a shrug. “The least I could do was give her a couple Band-Aids.”
“I see,” her father said, giving him the once-over. “What do you do, Jerik?”
Medora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her father may as well have asked, how could you afford the thousand-dollar plate at this event? Although Jerik’s suit should have been Daddy’s first clue that the plate wasn’t a problem.
“I own several businesses across the United States,” he answered. “My headquarters is based here in Chicago.”
Medora held back a blush with sheer force of will. “Daddy, I think the auction is supposed to start soon!” She grabbed her father’s elbow and gave Jerik her shoulder. “Sorry Jerik, I gotta run. Please have a lovely time.”
Jerik tipped his head at her and gave them the same salute he’d used in the hospital room. Fingers to his temple in a subtle gesture that seemed to say, ‘I see you’.
She practically ran from him. He did see her. It thrilled and terrified her at the same time.
Chapter Ten
Ever since their arrival, the Krinar knew how to make an entrance.
Tonight would be no different, Jerik told himself. He had done some more research, trying to get a fix on Medora and the best way to get her into his bed and out of his system. Humans with Heart was somewhat notorious in certain circles for turning their nose up at Krinar donations. The very name smacked of a xeno-apartheid.
He waved his limo away and straightened his tie.
He was going to make history tonight.
Already the looks and stares fueled his desire to find Medora and steal her away for a passionate interlude. That and her infuriating refusal to respond to his text. He’d only sent one: When can I see you again? It was simple enough to discover this ball and purchase a place setting when she never answered.
The crowd had hundreds of beautiful women in sparkling evening gowns and expensive jewels. The men wore black tie, nearly all with white shirts. He supposed his black shirt made him stand out, but then again, so did his massive height. There was no disguising he was Krinar, and he didn’t wish to.
He scanned the room, and then found her between two men whose heads needed to be removed from their bodies post-haste. Taking a calming breath, he stood still for a moment.
Her hair was swept up revealing her graceful neck. Her mother had been a dancer. So had she for a short time. It showed in her posture and movements. He’d noticed it in her apartment and even at the hospital. An awareness of her body in space, and an efficiency of movement. She was stunning to watch. Even now, as she slowly turned in his di
rection, she placed her silvery shoes just so to effect the turn.
A crystal caught the light at her throat. What was this? A thousand ways to tempt Jerik to take her blood?
He clenched his jaw and waited for the moment her eyes would find his.
There.
Her eyes were so expressive, opening wider at the sight of him, swallowing him up in their soulful gaze. Her smile took his breath away. And then she approached like they’d known each other for decades.
He scanned her dress, noting the decided lack of cleavage, and the way the fabric clung to her curves. The long sleeves obscured her fine skin. Her toned legs were shown to advantage with the dress style, and he realized she’d chosen it on purpose. She wanted her legs to be the prominent feature. It worked. He imagined running his tongue from her toes to the backs of her knees. Yes, this dress was working for him. It made him angry she wasn’t his.
“You ignored my text.”
Damn. He couldn’t help it. She brought out an animal in him.
“…you don’t own me, Mr. Jerik, and you never will.”
And there was the crux of the matter. But he didn’t need to own her to bed her and he told her so. Unfortunately, it was as she began to walk away, and she lost her footing. It was an easy matter to catch her and hold her in his arms as if dipping her in a dance. He caught flashes out of the corner of his eye and remembered too late that Medora was a target for the media. A flash of anger at himself pierced his heart. He would have to fix this somehow.
Unable to keep himself from inhaling her fragrance, he leaned close. “Are you all right?”
Her translucent skin glowed under the flattering overhead lights, but the flush on her face and neck told him all her secrets.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I shocked you.”
Her laugh trilled through him, delighting hidden places he’d forgotten about.
“An understatement.”
“I thought I made myself clear in your apartment,” he went on. “And at the café.”
“Ah, well,” Medora’s lashes fell. “Now there is no question whatsoever.”
She looked up at him, and his heart beat with recognition. That face, those eyes, that stubborn chin. It all belonged to his heart. No dammit. He smiled to cover up his inner conflict.
“However, you don’t have the whole picture. You will change your mind.” Medora continued walking by his side.
“I doubt it.”
She stopped and faced him, then reached a hand to his chest, right over his heart. It was a tender gesture.
“I’m a virgin…”
“Not a problem.”
She frowned up at him. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m not having sex until my wedding night.”
Time stopped. Then sped up. Then slowed to the present. The Krinar had explained to the human population more than once that the humans existed because of the Krinar. Thus, all of the strictures of world religions were pointless…such as marriage. Many humans embraced this freedom from all religions, but there were the occasional hold-outs. She hadn’t struck him as deeply religious. Was he missing something? Did it matter? He would possess this woman’s body. He calmed his expression to a mild disinterest. Then her father arrived, and after the prerequisite pissing contest, she ran away with him. Something about an auction.
Jerik stood with hands in pockets, casually observing the observers. He knew he was an object of curiosity. Let them stare.
He found it interesting he wasn’t scanning the crowd for potential sexual partners. And judging by some of the women’s expressions and the décolleté of the gowns, he could have any number of them tonight.
Gradually everyone’s attention turned to the dais. An MC took the podium and announced the auction for a date. The first woman stepped up from behind a black curtain. A spotlight shone on her as she twirled to the hoots and calls from the crowd. There was applause, giggling, and the MC remarked on her qualities, and then the bidding started.
At first, Jerik thought he’d stumbled across a revival of the ancient human custom, but then he realized it was all in fun. A winning bidder who looked to be several glasses of alcohol into the evening gave a lusty shout and nearly collapsed into his neighbor. The young woman on the dais shouted, “I guess I’ll be playing nurse tonight!” The crowd laughed and clapped. Jerik felt mildly uncomfortable.
Nubile young women from various roles in the organization were auctioned off. Receptionists, office managers, payroll and so forth. Women and men bid, the dollar amounts increasing with each subsequent woman as the guests were more into their cups, and the feeling of goodwill toward the recipients of the Humans with Heart foundation increased.
The MC encouraged the audience to simmer down.
“Our last date for the evening likes quiet walks on the beach,” the MC began, and the crowd erupted in laughter at the cliché. “Seriously folks, does she need an introduction?”
Loud Nos echoed through the chamber, and Jerik’s attention perked up. Medora? He thought she was averse to attention from the press. This would propel her into the front pages for several days at least. Then he remembered her face when she had asked if he would go up to Callie’s room. That woman would do anything for her clients. Maybe his chivalry of earlier would go unnoticed after this auction.
Medora stepped up to her spot, graceful and poised, and did an elegant turn followed by a curtsey. The audience went wild.
“Ariella Rothchild prefers Coca Cola to champagne. She loves babies and newborn kittens. She’ll beat you in a round of badminton but please don’t challenge her to scrabble!” The crowd oohed and chuckled and then the bidding began.
Jerik watched as men dotting the audience held up placards for the auctioneer.
“Can I get a $1000?”
“Ah yes, a $1500?”
The bidding went fast, and the higher the numbers went, the more he wanted to spend the evening with her. He flagged down a waiter and secured a placard.
He held it up. “Ten thousand.”
The crowd quieted for a moment. Then someone else chimed in.
“Eleven thousand!”
“Twenty thousand,” he said. They were ridiculous if they thought they were getting her tonight.
“Twenty thousand five hundred!”
“Fifty thousand.”
The crowd hushed. All the while he stared at Medora. Any other human would fidget under his scrutiny. Not his Medora. She stood proud and demure, an icon of female poise. Also, the spotlight may have made it so she couldn’t see into the crowd. He waited for the MC to catch up.
“Going twice? And sold, for fifty thousand!” The MC raised his hands to encourage the crowd to cheer louder, and more flashes sparked in the audience.
Jerik shoved his placard at a passing server and walked his way through the parting crowd to escort Medora off the dais.
He held out his hand, and her trembling fingers grasped his as she stepped daintily down the two steps.
She smiled at him amidst camera flashes and spoke through her teeth. “What did you just do?”
He leaned forward and pecked her cheek then whispered into her ear. “I bought you.”
He thought he saw tears in her eyes. But her voice was steady. “Thank you. That was very generous. Especially for a simple dinner companion and some dancing,” she said, nodding to the congratulations people offered as they walked back through the crowd. “After which I will get into my pumpkin and ride home. Alone.”
“Debatable.” Jerik’s innards lurched at the thought of all the things he would love to do with Medora. Show her. Teach her. His breath hitched, even as they calmly walked to a secluded table for two. How was it possible she’d never been with anyone before?
She laughed. “Only a Krinar would say that.”
“What?”
“Oh please,” she said, folding the fabric of her dress under her legs as he pulled the seat out for her. “You Krinar are gossiped about endlessly. Some
groups go so far as to accuse you of being sexual predators.” She shook her head. “My decision to save my virginity for my husband is mine alone. It isn’t up for debate.” She looked at him pointedly over her glass of ice water. “Especially with the owner of several sex clubs.”
“What is this pumpkin you mentioned?”
She spewed water out her nose and grabbed the nearest fabric napkin.
His mouth turned up at the corner. “I’ve never witnessed water coming out of one’s nose.”
Medora melted with laughter and coughing until a server came by asking if she needed assistance.
She gasped and shook her head. “I’m fine. Sorry,” she said and waved him away. “It’s fine.”
She looked at Jerik and simply smiled, sighing.
A feeling of rightness overcame him, and he couldn’t speak. He looked away from her and recalled his anger of a few days ago. Closed his eyes and summoned it to return. One time. One fuck. It’s all he needed, and he could go back to the way things were before Medora.
She cocked her head at him when his eyes opened.
“A pumpkin. You know, a round orange squash? We make pie out of it in the autumn?”
He didn’t respond, noticing instead the fragrance that emanated from her jawline. Lilies again. The perfume was sharp and tangy, bright. And green. She smelled like the hothouses on the ships where they grew massive collections of greenery to feel closer to home.
When he didn’t say anything, she continued.
“It’s a big vegetable,” she waved her hand like it didn’t matter. “We have an old fairy tale on earth where Cinderella, this oppressed young woman with a horrible step family gets the chance to be the belle of the ball and meets the prince, but then she has to hurry home at midnight because the spell wears off. And her coach turns back into a pumpkin.” She cocked her head the other way. “Do you know what a coach is? Or step family? God, there’s so much I don’t know about Krinar.”
Jerik clenched the fist he had under the table as he inhaled her scent. He was saved from further restraints being required when a waiter came with covered dishes. He placed everything on the table between them and left.
The Krinar Chronicles: Krinar Covenant (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4
