Kenton stepped into the light and placed his hand on Caleb’s shoulder, letting him know his time in the spotlight was over.
Caleb returned to his place on the stage.
Alicin joined Kenton in the spotlight. They waited until the crowd settled.
Adara took her seat, her heart pounding.
Alicin made a production of holding her recording device close to her face as if reading the display for the first time. Her eyebrows rose. She held out her hand for Kenton to see.
He met her gaze. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he faced the crowd. “We have a winner, but let’s start with your top three selections.”
Groans and hisses filled the air.
A loud feminine voice piped up. “Hurry along, we’re dying out here.”
Nervous titters and shouts of agreement emerged from a few others.
Kenton raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. Your top three are…Antoine, Skylar…and Caleb. Gentlemen, please, come forward.”
Adara’s mouth went dry. She clasped her hands over the chair’s armrests, squeezing so hard her fingers ached.
Caleb approached and stood next to the other men. He raised his chin. If not for the tic in his jaw, she wouldn’t have known he was nervous.
Kenton scanned the crowd. “A very nice selection. You’ve done well. Alicin, who is our third-place runner up?”
Alicin cleared her throat. “Our lovely Skylar is third runner up.”
Applause and a few cat-calls skittered over the room. Skylar raised his hand, smiled, and stepped out of the light. Caleb and Antoine nodded toward each other, exchanging congratulatory glances.
Kenton waved at the crowd then raised an eyebrow at Alicin. “Between these two fine men, who, my dear, is our winner?”
With dramatic flair, she held up her device. “The winner and our new spokesman is none other than…Caleb.”
Adara couldn’t breathe. Her stomach ached as if someone had sucker punched her. Her gaze tore to the stage.
“Congrats, man. You beat me.” Antoine winked at Caleb, gave him the thumbs-up, then stepped out of the light.
Kenton slapped Caleb on the shoulder, congratulating him for the win. He motioned for Caleb to address the crowd.
Caleb’s Adam’s apple visibly moved as he swallowed. “I…I…d…don’t…kn…know…” He didn’t finish his sentence, his lips pursed into a thin line.
The deafening noise from the crowd drowned out Adara’s thoughts…all except one. Caleb, I believe in you.
Seventeen
Blood rushed to Caleb’s ears, drowning out the crowd’s roar. It was as if someone had shoved cotton in his eardrums, the sound muffled, distant. White spots formed in his vision, blurring Alicin into two identical twins. Sweat beaded along his brow, his skin overheating in an instant.
Kenton gripped his shoulder, and Caleb focused on him. Kenton’s mouth moved, but Caleb didn’t hear the words. The man’s brow rose, and his shoulders shook as if he’d laughed.
Laughed…at me. No…
Caleb couldn’t go through the humiliation again. His fist clenched.
Laced with a mixture of anxiety and anger, blood pumped through Caleb’s veins. Beyond Kenton’s frame, Caleb caught a glimpse of Adara standing in the front row. He stepped forward, moving past Kenton to get a better look.
She stood, silent and still, while those around her jumped and screamed.
Their gazes locked. Would she raise her chin and turn her head, rejecting him?
His chest constricted, as if a snake had wrapped itself around his torso intent on squeezing the life from him.
An encouraging smile crept over her face. The snake’s hold loosened, but the creature still hung on. She placed her hand on her chest and tapped her fingers four times, once for each word.
Speak from your heart.
She believed in him.
The memory of their conversation in the suite flitted over his mind. He’d spoken to her without stuttering by concentrating on her and sharing what was in his soul. He loved her for believing in him, and he wouldn’t let her down. The adrenaline surging through his veins carried a new energy, one of belief in himself.
He took a step forward, but kept his gaze on Adara. “Th…thank…y…you for your applause and selecting m…me as your spokesman. As you can tell, I l…love to dance, have loved to move my body to music for as long as I can remember.”
Adara’s smile widened. Creases formed around her eyes, which glistened from unshed tears…tears of love and pride for him.
A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed, forcing it down. He soaked in her support, her belief in him, and drew his gaze to the crowd.
“Dance is a form of expression, one I utilize because, for the longest time…I had a speech impediment.” Voicing the words freed him of his bonds, breaking the snake’s hold on him. He breathed in deep, enjoying the sense of euphoria expanding in his chest.
His focus returned to Adara. Tear tracks streaked down her cheeks, shimmering in the light. He felt whole, wanted, needed…loved. He didn’t think he could love her any more, until he did. He swallowed and forced the words out. “Love helped me overcome my fear, love and belief in myself.”
Cheers and raucous applause rose from the patrons.
He raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “Thank you, again, for your support. As the spokesman, I promise the Star-Studded Male Revue show will continue to entertain and entice you.” A smile tugged at his lips, and he let it expand, let the joy in his soul free. “Maybe, just maybe, my story will encourage others to find expression through dance, music, or the arts.”
He glanced at Adara and motioned for her to join him on stage.
She didn’t hesitate, pushing her way to the end of the aisle.
“I want to introduce someone to you, someone special.” His heart rate increased. He was about to take a big risk.
Adara ran up the steps onto the stage.
He held out his palm. She placed her hand in his, her fingers trembling.
“This is Adara, a space trader, and I’m hoping she’ll accept the job as my promoter.” He held his breath.
Her brow furrowed. “My debt to Captain—”
He placed his finger over her lips. “Will be paid off with my winnings. Will you stay with me here? Be my promoter?”
She blinked. Her eyes widened then she wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes!”
Cradling her in his embrace, he arched her backward and gave her a sweeping kiss.
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
All too soon, he drew her to a standing position, and they both faced the audience.
Kenton stepped into the spotlight, Alicin at his side. “Well, Alicin, looks like our job is done. Patrons, you selected your next spokesman well. I’m sure the Star-Studded Male Revue will be better than ever.”
The crowd cheered once more, and the lights rose in the theater. Patrons shuffled toward the exits.
Adara peered at him, her brow furrowing over her beautiful eyes. “You want me to stay with you? What does that mean?”
Caleb captured her head in his palms. He kissed her birthmark, her nose, her lips. “I want you with me, always, because…I love you.”
“Oh…Caleb.” She sniffled. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her again, reinforcing without words what she meant to him. “Let me dress, then we should go collect the winnings. I want to pay off your captain, make sure your contract is finalized.”
She nodded and trailed a finger over his arm, tickling his skin. “Thank you, Caleb.”
Blood headed south and the last thing he wanted was to get an erection in his G-string cup. The small patch of material couldn’t contain him.
She giggled and rubbed against him, making matters worse.
He gripped her hand, and he drew her toward the curtains and his station backstage. “You are such a tease, my lucky falling star.” He couldn’t be any happier.
Eighteen
A few weeks later…
Caleb tightened his grip around Adara’s waist and tugged her against him back to front. She giggled and pressed her bottom into him, sliding her soft curves over his hardening erection. He grabbed the circular staircase’s railing, using it as a barrier, sequestering her between him and the central pillar.
She squealed her delight and purposefully pushed into him harder. “Caleb, the doors to the cabaret will open soon. We can’t have the patrons catching us messing around. That would destroy their fantasy of having you to themselves.”
He whipped her around to face him, and her palms landed on his thin shirt. Heat rose through the material, tingling her fingers. The platform shook beneath their feet, the stairs creaking in protest.
He laughed, and his eyes glittered with amusement. She leaned into his embrace, enjoyed the few moments together before the audience exited the Cosmic Cabaret.
They wanted to capture the attendees while they were still on a high from the last performance, encourage them to attend the Star-Studded Male Revue. Good thing that wasn’t difficult, not with Caleb as the spokesman.
He trailed a finger over her forehead, moving aside a few stray hairs. With tender care, Caleb circled his thumb over her birthmark. “I remember the first time I saw your marking. The Chinora blossom…good luck. That’s what went through my mind. I’m the luckiest man around.”
Her stomach fluttered. “Caleb, I resisted my family’s affinity for our birthmark for so long, but now, I think they were right. This mark,” she touched the rough and mottled skin above her forehead, “is a blessing. Something to be proud of.”
“Indeed.”
She placed a tender kiss on his lips, wishing they had time for much more. He must’ve thought they did, for he cradled her head in his hands and deepened the kiss. Her pulse rose, and a warmth spread throughout her body.
Caleb broke the kiss and inhaled on a soft hiss. “Okay, that’s enough, unless you want the gals to notice just how happy I am to see you.”
She giggled, warmed by the sound of his voice. After he’d won the title of best male revue dancer, Caleb had learned how to handle his speech impediment. He wasn’t perfect at first, slipping into old habits, but he’d improved so much over the past few weeks. Her heart constricted as love for him tightened around her heart.
The cabaret doors burst open. One banged against the wall, echoing into the grand hallway. Performers on the other platforms readied themselves and started their pitches. The crowd of onlookers proceeded down the row.
A group of women pointed at Caleb. With titters and batted eyelashes, the party of three approached.
Adara squeezed his fingers, then released his hand. She stepped up to the railing and raised her voice. “Hello, ladies. Welcome, welcome, welcome. Have I got a surprise for you.” She winked at the trio and held out her hand toward Caleb.
He stepped forward and flexed his biceps, putting on a show. One of the women hid her face behind the back of another. A second clapped her hands, egging him on. He turned his back on them and squeezed his shoulder blades together. His muscles rippled.
“Oooh… Ahhh…” Feminine voices rose from the group. The crowd increased in size, more and more women stopping to look.
Adara raised an eyebrow. “Want to see more?”
The women’s titters, nods and “oh, yes’s” accompanied their rapt attention.
Caleb gripped the edge of his thin shirt and, with a single tug, ripped it from his chest. Oiled to perfection, his skin gleamed in the light. “Come to the Star-Studded Male Revue tomorrow night. I’ll be there along with several of my friends. Join us for a rousing good time.”
Cheers and shouts burst into the air.
Caleb glanced at Adara. Laugh lines formed around his beautiful blue eyes. He placed his hand against her cheek. “My beautiful Adara.”
“Thank you for giving me a home, a place to call my own.” She kissed him, and in her heart, she truly was a lucky star.
THE END
The Adventure Continues…
in CLONE ME A LOVER
The first book in the Interstellar Lovers series.
Forbidden to express emotions, clone Angelo Thirteen longs to experience one feeling above all others—love. When a tenacious, young, female Altonian retrieves him from his drifting space pod, he may just get his chance.
Sneak peek of CLONE ME A LOVER
“I…didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been here?”
He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. A slow smile tugged at his lips, and she focused on them. They were so tempting, and it was all she could do to pull her gaze to his eyes.
“Long enough to watch you make that…squirrel?”
A nervous laugh broke from her lips. “This is an ornithium, a small sub-surface dweller from our planet. The tiny creature comes above ground to retrieve nuts that fall from the trees during the season’s first frost. It is the good luck symbol for our winter celebration—Lintria, representing hope and love, for if this small animal can survive in the harshest of conditions, so can we.”
“I see. When is your next observance?” His calm demeanor called to her, sending a tingle of curiosity and excitement along her nerves.
“In a few days, when our sun is lowest in the horizon in the southern hemisphere. This special day is celebrated by everyone in our culture.” Her throat constricted. Not everyone. Toman was still in jail. If she didn’t return to get him out before the celebration, he’d observe the rite in the mines and never participate in another. I can’t think about that.
With a quick swallow, she focused her attention on the sexy man in front of her. “Thank you, again, for replacing the reactor.”
His gaze flicked to her mouth before returning to her eyes. The brown in his irises deepened.
Warmth spread between her thighs, and she bit her lip.
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “It was the least I could do, given you saved me from a long, cold, lonely journey through space.”
“Well, then, seems we’ve saved each other.”
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About Rosalie Redd
After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for award-winning author Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. She pens paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy romance in her office cave located in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing.
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A Dance of Fallen Stars
A Daemons of the Astari novella
Kat Vancil
Kealan thought his charm could get him out of anything…he was wrong.
Notorious playboy Kealan Corkoran’s in a serious bind. He’s been branded an illegal stowaway after waking up light-years from home in the cargo hold of LS Quantum. With no money, no ID, and no way to contact home, he’s left with only one chance to get out of this mess: working under the impassioned daemon choreographer who got him into it.
Concealing his true identity, Kealan scrambles to please the one woman standing between him, and a fate that makes his daemon blood run cold—getting jettisoned in a space pod. But as he’s pulled deeper into the alluring glitz and glamour of the Cosmic Cabaret by his unlikely savior, Kealan may be forced to confront more than his inconvenient attraction to her.
Special Note
The gender neutral personal pronouns ze, ze’s, hir, hirs, and hirself are used throughout this story instead of the more commonly used, though grammatically incorrect, third person personal pronouns.
One
KEALAN
“Do you have any idea who I am?!” I demand in Versal, looking back over my shoulder at the surprisingly tall female securi
ty officer. The small thin badge over her heart cycling slowly between the last name designator Raybuck, the rank Ensign, and presumably the ship’s name LS Quantum.
“No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Ensign Raybuck replies with disinterest as she herds me forward down a corridor leading from the cargo hold.
“I’m Kealan Corkoran, Third Chancell of Sashai Var,” I state as I try for the umpteenth time to slip my hands free of the restraints securing my arms behind my back. But they only zap me, and tighten more.
Great. Fekkin’ ZapCuffs.
Raybuck rolls her steel-blue eyes. “Sure kid, and I’m the Queen of Sheba.”
“What’s a chancell?” Ensign Rocha asks in heavily accented Versal as he follows along beside her, momentarily taking his brown-eyes off me. Something he hasn’t done since I decked him earlier when they found me wandering the massive cargo hold. And since Raybuck is a good twenty centimeters taller than him, Rocha has to tip his head bloody far to meet her gaze. “That part of that Neo-Shogunate movement or somethin’?”
Raybuck sighs, and flicks her cropped blond hair out of her eyes as if she can’t believe she actually has to deal with this. “It’s the Kalodaemon equivalent of a prince,” Raybuck states as she moves quickly past us, and holds her IdentiBand toward the neighboring door’s sensor. Her accent is less prominent and different from Rocha’s, but it’s clear she’s from somewhere other than Awai Sashai— the astronomical body humans originally called “the Moon.”
Rocha mumbles something in what I’m fairly certain was one of those “romance languages” on Earth—Spanish I think—and from the little I know of the language, I’m fairly certain it wasn’t complimentary either.
Cosmic Cabaret Page 27
