by Milly Taiden
Before Ivy could argue, Karis walked up to the table with two older Galaxan women in tow. “Ivy, these are the dressers I mentioned yesterday. They’re here to talk with you about ideas for your gowns.”
“Your Majesty,” the dressers replied in stereo, both dipping into a curtsy.
All eyes turned, and Ivy coughed at the formality of it all. “Uhm, please don’t do that, and I’d prefer you call me Ivy.”
“Ma’am?” one of the dressers questioned.
Karis waved a dismissive hand. “Her Majesty doesn’t like to stand on ceremony. Only when protocol demands.” She winked at Ivy, silently encouraging more.
“Uhm, yes, I suppose we could work here in the sunshine. I have a few ideas already. After breakfast, then?” Ivy coughed again, ignoring the amused look from Henley.
“Very good, Your Majesty,” one of the dressers acknowledged. “We will wait for your summons downstairs.”
Karis nodded to them as they left before shifting her gaze to the others. “Riley, what are your plans for today? Do you have appointments, or do you need a few suggestions to start?”
“Uhm—” Ri stuttered.
Gerri smirked, sharing a look with Karis. “That’s the third uhm uttered at this table in the last five minutes. Methinks our girls are a little out of their element.”
“You think?” Henley replied. “We’re not ambivalent, just unsure how to proceed.”
Karis clapped once. “Fine, then. Problem fixed. Riley, your first stop should be food. All the best stalls will be in the market at noon or a little before then. They are the same farm vendors the palace uses, so they’ll be very accommodating. You can sample cheeses and bread, seasonal fruits as well, both fresh and dried, and make your decision from there. Whoever you choose, tell them enough for five hundred.”
“Five hundred?” Ivy balked. “I can see that for the coronation, but that’s way big for a wedding. After all, Vander already claimed me.”
Karis gave Ivy a steady look. “Any less and Vander would be seen as snubbing his people. Representatives from every corner of Galaxa will need to be included. I’ll brook no argument, Ivy. Vander is the king, not only of the Palladia, but all of Galaxa. It is what it is…now, Riley,” she continued, handing her a quick list. “These are the caterers I want you to visit besides the farm stalls. They represent the very best chefs and bakers in the city. The palace kitchens will handle the main courses, but Vander wants reinforcements just in case. As for the desserts, he’s looking for something extra special, so keep an eye out for the unique.”
“Well, at least there’s that.” Ivy rubbed her belly bump. “Vander knows mama loves cake, and with the way this baby is doing the mambo over a simple muffin, my guess is he or she does, too.”
Karis smiled, resting a hand on Ivy’s shoulder. “He, honey. My gut is telling me you’re carrying a little prince.”
“Speaking of little princes,” Riley asked. “Did anyone let Jag know he’s my royal food taster today?”
Nodding, Karis reached for a sweet roll, licking the sugar from her thumb. “Vander told him.”
“And?” Ri replied.
Karis shrugged, taking a bite. “Jag’s a Kasaval. He’ll do what’s required.”
“Required. Great.” At that, Riley frowned. “Why does that make me think I’ll have a gorgeous sourpuss scowling at me all day?” Excitement and panic warred in her chest.
“Honey, you make Jag sound like a surly teen. He’s not. He’s a warrior. Social planning may not be high on his list, but he knows how important this event is to the people. He’ll go because it’s his duty, but he’s also going to make sure nothing happens to you.”
Ivy exhaled. “Welcome to the gilded cage club, Riley.”
“Way to go helping, Vee,” Henley smirked, sparing a look for their friend. “Look at it this way, Ri. At least Jag’s pretty to look at. A warrior, yes, but also the world’s biggest flirt, and trust me, you could use the practice.”
Riley tossed a crumpled napkin at her. “Tell me something I don’t know. Jag is…he’s…he’s…”
“Dreamy,” the servant clearing the table said with a sigh.
All eyes turned, and the poor girl blushed ten shades of red. Ivy burst out laughing and even Karis smirked. “Leave my boy alone. He can’t help his sex appeal. It’s the Kasaval xenos. Their lion’s blood likes to roar.”
“From what I hear,” Henley added, “your boy gets around so much, he’s got shiny red ball syndrome. A cat chasing a red laser dot straight to the nearest female. Stalk. Pounce. Next.”
Riley rolled her eyes, but that didn’t cover the anxiety that she couldn’t pull this off without humiliating herself staring at Jag all day. “Great. Isn’t there anyone else that can help me today? This is important, and I don’t want to be…be…”
“Distracted?” Karis cut in with a raised eyebrow.
“No.” Ri exhaled. “I don’t want this to be messed up.”
“It won’t,” Karis assured softly. “Riley, your greatest strength is you notice everything. Details, big and small. You’ll be fine. Like you said. This is important, and Jag knows it, too.”
Gerri nodded. “Karis’s right. If anyone can manage Jag and his shiny balls, it’s you.”
Ivy spewed her tea, coughing and sputtering as she reached for a napkin. “Now there’s an image.”
“Quiet you.” Gerri turned, giving Riley a quick wink. “Don’t listen to Miss Pregger Pants. Have your breakfast and then get ready for the day. As for Jag? I’m never wrong, Riley. Opposites attract, so have fun and see where it takes you. Try him on for size. And trust me, that boy has size.”
5
Riley closed the door to her bedroom and sighed. Hanging out with Jag in a group of people was one thing, but one on one for the entire day? Ugh. Was it okay to drink this early in the morning? It had to be five o’clock somewhere, right? In a crowd, she could disappear into the backdrop, but now the pressure was on to make conversation. And eye contact. And other kinds of contact.
She swallowed. Conversation. Yeah, like that wasn’t the joke of the century. Whenever Jag so much as looked her way, her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth, rendering her speechless. Not exactly convenient considering what needed to get done today.
Plopping down on the edge of her mattress, Riley looked at her reflection in the armoire’s mirrored doors across from her bed.
Totally not his type.
At least that part was true despite the fact Jag Kasaval had the leading role in every one of her daydreams and late-night fantasies since she first laid eyes on him.
A thunderbolt hit her square in the chest when she first saw him that afternoon in the throne room, sizzling to the sweet spot between her legs. Ivy was missing. But even through her worry about Ivy, thoughts of his rugged, handsome face and muscled body pushed past.
She went to bed that night praying her friend was safe, but also that Jag would come back and notice her. She wasn’t like Henley. Spirited and outspoken. Or even Ivy. Sassy and strong. She was the quiet one. Private.
The mood walls in her room turned pale lavender. The shade was reassuring and a sense of determined calm spread across her mind. She had a job to do. People were counting on her to get it right, and Jag could either help or not. Pride in a job well done was something she prized, and no one, not even her living, breathing fantasy was going to get in the way of that.
Looking at the armoire mirror, she smirked. “Okay, smarty. Since I know you’re gauging my mood like the rest of this room, pick something for me to wear that says it all. Quiet but strong, so watch out.”
Riley giggled to herself and headed into the bathroom to clean up. Gerri said try him on for size and that’s what she intended to do. She had less than a half hour to pull it together and meet Jag in the main hall.
Once last look in the mirror and Riley nodded. “Not bad,” she murmured.
Her ankle-length skirt skimmed her slight curves to where strappy flat s
andals gave her a sexy turn of foot. A bright yellow camisole played off the skirt’s vivid colors, the shade highlighting the soft texture to her smooth mocha skin. Her dark springy curls twined past her shoulders, and she ran a hand over the rich mass, tucking a loose coil into place. She nodded once more, straightening her shoulders before heading for the door.
She walked at a quick pace toward the stairs leading to the main hall. Turning the corner at the end of the corridor, she stopped short, crashing headlong into a broad chest.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you…I didn’t mean to…” she stuttered, staggering back, embarrassed. What was up with this turn in the bend? The hallway needed a no speed walking sign or something.
The man she collided with was tall. Almost as tall as Jag, with cropped black hair and piercing dark eyes. Really pretty eyes. Like melted chocolate. He wore a dark maroon tunic and leather pants that seemed to mold to his body. Riley blinked. Yikes. He was hot with a capital H, like every other guy in the capital. Figured.
He smirked, and a small predatory smile curved his lips. “You must be one of our new queen’s friends. From Earth.”
“I’m sorry?” Riley asked, knowing the question sounded as stupid as she felt.
“The queen,” he repeated, his voice rough as a faint glow ringed his eyes. “Married to Vander Kasaval?”
She nodded, embarrassed. “Yes, I’m sorry. I am…I mean…I’m visiting with them. For the upcoming wedding and coronation.”
“I’m here for the same reason,” he said, inclining his head. “I am Sharan Dul, advisor to his Serene Lord of the Sands, Tar Navam. I’m representing the nomadic tribes that live past the sand ocean. Vander has been trying to unite the Palladian Oasis with the capital city for a long time.”
“I’m Riley. Riley Parks. Pleased to meet you.”
His predatory smirk spread, and he extended his hand, taking hers. “Riley. Such a strange name for one so—appealing.” He ran his thumb over her palm and then in small circular motions, squeezing ever so gently.
Did he just…
Oh, yes, he did.
Before she could say a word, he lifted her fingers to his lips, giving a soft kiss, lingering just a second longer than necessary. Wow. Talk about unexpected.
As if on cue, Karis came up the stairs from the main hall and stopped short, her eyes riveted on Sharan.
He looked up, and his smile changed from predatory to calculating. “Lady Karis. Always a pleasure to see one so wise and yet still so beautiful.”
Riley pulled her hand from his grasp and took a step back. “Sorry for being so clumsy.”
With a nod, he inclined his head once more. “Well, I hope we bump into each other again, perhaps when we can talk more.” He stepped past her and continued on his way, leaving her taken aback in his wake.
Okay? Surreal much?
First Jag and now this guy. Men like that didn’t happen to her. Ever. Riley shook her head in doubt and then remembered Karis standing there. The woman’s face was not happy. Was it because she secretly wanted her with Jag or was there something about Sharan what’s-his-name she didn’t like? She made a mental note to ask Gerri later.
Karis wasn’t usually one to judge, and with everything that happened with Ivy’s kidnapping, it was best to keep strangers a little strange. Especially since there was so much to do. She glanced at her watch. She was late. Jag was probably waiting for her by the doors to the main hall.
Just the thought of him and his devil-may-care smile and gorgeous blue eyes made her face flush. Funny really. All Jag had to do was say hello and her hormones were all over the place. Yet a hot stranger kisses her hand with a look that sized her up as an appetizer for foreplay, and nothing. Not even a shiver.
Dammit.
She had it bad for the boy and she knew it. Jag knew it, too.
Dammit twice.
Still standing at the top of the stairs, Karis crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Shouldn’t you be meeting the prince about now?”
“Oh, yeah, I am…I mean, I was…rushing, that is, to meet Jag, when I crashed into Sharan.” High color burned Riley’s cheeks. “Literally. I nearly knocked the man over.” She twisted her fingers in the side seam of her skirt and moved past Karis to head down the first few steps.
The older woman’s brows knotted, and a slight frown tugged at her lips. “Sharan is quite the charmer, Riley. His dark eyes hold secrets and lures best left unexplored.”
Riley blinked at the woman’s warning tone. Karis really didn’t need to worry about Riley exploring anything on a man that wasn’t Jag. It was official, she was in lust with Casanova Kasaval. Not sure how to react and not wanting to get into a thing, she nodded once and then turned to continue down the steps, but something made her spare another glance for Karis.
Her pretty face was inscrutable, but the caution in her eyes made Riley’s throat tighten. What she saw wasn’t a threat. No. It was fear, and a wave of anxiety coursed through Riley’s chest that stopped her cold. Mental note, indeed. She opened her mouth to ask why, but before she could utter a word, Jag was halfway up the stairs.
“Hey!” He flashed a gorgeous grin. “I’m not used to being kept in suspense. Don’t we have delicacies to sample?”
Riley spared a look for Karis, but the woman was gone. She turned back to Jag, discomfited, but nodded just the same. “Yes, we do.”
“Well,” he grinned, holding out his hand. “Are you coming, or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way?”
Her knees went weak at the thought, and she grabbed hold of the bannister to stop from stumbling to the stairs. Ivy might not like the caveman gene in the Kasaval men, but right now the thought of Jag carrying her off made her panties damp and her nipples ache. God, help her. She was spending the day with a man she said wasn’t her type and vice versa, yet she knew given the chance, she’d spread herself wide if he asked.
Goddamn Gerri Wilder. How the woman always knew was a mystery. Still, right now the only mystery she was interested in keeping was her feelings for the Kasaval Casanova. She had no intention of telling the man she would risk being a notch on his belt just to see if he tasted as good as he looked.
Again. Dammit.
6
Market Day was overflowing with merchants selling their wares as Jag led her through the dusty streets. Riley closed her eyes and inhaled the unusual scents. “This never gets old for me. I love it.”
The place was a burst of color and noise like the bazaars of the Middle East with everything from exotic foods and colorful cloth, to leather goods, raw nuts and spices, and everything in between available.
She pointed to the cluster of old men sitting with their thick aromatic coffee, debating the state of the world the same way they had when she and the girls first arrived on Galaxa. Only difference now were the warm toothless smiles that greeted her and Jag as they walked past.
“See them,” she said, gesturing to the men. “Back home, the seniors sit in the park and play checkers while they argue about the world at large.” She chuckled. “So, I guess it is sort of similar.”
The old men looked up, and one touched his forefingers to his forehead with a smile. “Yawm jidin, jamilat wahida… Good day, pretty one,” he said, and the others nodded as well.
“Well, you certainly charmed the elders. They barely acknowledge me these days, but for you they stop arguing and smile.” Jag grinned.
She glanced over her shoulder and then shrugged. “I sneak them bread pudding from the palace kitchen after dinner.” Flashing a sheepish grin, she shrugged again. “What can I say? I miss my grandpa and he loved bread pudding, especially with a splash of whiskey.”
“I knew it!” He laughed. “Plying those poor old men with alcohol.”
She snorted. “A splash of whiskey in a bowl of pudding? Seriously? Besides, I didn’t need to ply them with anything. They like me.”
“I bet.” He looked across his chest at the small wom
an walking beside him and tucked her arm in his before steering her toward the quieter side of the throng. “Don’t you have markets like this on Earth?”
“We do, but not where I come from. The Palladian capital reminds me of a place back home called Dubai. It’s a glittering city in the middle of a desert. A playground for the wealthy with native settlements on the outskirts surrounding a high-stakes, high-rise metropolis.”
Riley was still talking when a girl wearing a dress of sheer scarves walked past as they stopped at a row of houseware stalls. The young woman’s mouth curved in an inviting smile as her eyes locked with Jag’s, his gaze following the sway of her hips as she passed.
Red faced, Riley pulled her arm from his elbow. “You don’t have to babysit me, Jag. I practically majored in retail back home, so I’m perfectly capable of shopping on my own if you’ve found something more stimulating to keep your attention than my simple Earth stories.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said, surprised at her change in tone.
Riley swung her arm to where the girl headed toward the crowded square. “Her. Your eyes were practically glued to her ass.”
“Why would I leave you and your simple Earth stories to follow that? There’s no challenge there.”
“Challenge?” Riley snorted. “Not with that outfit. One tug and the whole get up puddles to the floor. Not that she didn’t already know that the minute she left her house.”
“That’s the point.” Jag nodded with a grin. “Her clothes advertise she’s skilled in the art of love.”
“Advertise?” Riley balked. “You mean that girl was a hooker?”
“Hooker?” he asked, confused.
“Yes.” She nodded. “As in prostitute. Or whore. Whichever fits.”
Reaching for a marble pestle from one of the shop shelves, he held the stone suggestively in his hand. The item was long and thick with a knobbed end, and he ran a hand over the smooth grain. “Do you have a problem with sex, Ms. Parks? Because I can help. All you need to do is ask.”
