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Authors: Catherine Asaro
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into the Star Tower.
IV: Tower of Dreams
Ricki saw him in the window first. She was sitting in her tall chair, facing the glass wall, looking over the glistening city. And there, reflected in the glass, was an even more appealing vision: Del, walking into the room.
She turned around as the wall behind Del re-formed, leaving them alone in the Sky Room. He had looked good earlier today, but that was nothing compared to now. His tailored leather jacket was deliciously sinful, fitting his lean frame perfectly. He had left it unfastened, revealing a white shirt open at the neck just enough to show a triangle of chest hair.
Careful, Ricki thought. She never let people affect her too much, even just by noticing them. It gave them control, which meant the power to hurt her. She was a cool operator, smooth and unruffled, and she ignored the misguided poets who claimed they saw past her icy exterior to a lonely soul. She wasn't affected by the way those black leather pants clung to Del's legs. And that belt made out of starship ring fittings that rested so low on his hips, hugging his anatomy--goodness. His boots had just enough heel to shift his hips forward, accenting his sensual build. His hair, well that was just protein . . . gleaming, luxuriant protein that framed his face, his pouting mouth, and those huge eyes, as if he were some beautiful, wicked angel who could snarl like a devil.
Oh my.
"Hello," Ricki purred.
Del stalked over and slid into the other chair at the table. Tilting his head toward the window, he said, "That's quite a view." Without taking his eyes off her, he added, "Spectacular, in fact."
Ah, sweet seduction. She smiled at him. "That's why Prime-Nova keeps this suite."
A hum came from a glimmering mesh on the table, followed by the voice of the human bartender who served the penthouse. "Would your guest care for a drink, Ms. Varento?"
Ricki raised her eyebrow at Del.
"Orange juice," Del said.
Ricki laughed softly. "You may look like a lethal weapon, but I think the farm boy is still in there." She spoke into the comm. "Jack, bring him up one like you did for me, double time."
"Right away, ma'am."
"Like yours?" Looking disconcerted, Del tapped her cut-crystal glass. "That drink is blue. "
"Blue as a Night Dazer, which is what it's called." It was such a dumb name, it sounded like something she would come up with. "Mostly it's Southern Comfort."
Del laughed in his rumbling voice. "Whose comfort?"
"Haven't you had whiskey before?"
His smile vanished. "Yes."
Huh. What caused that reaction? "But not lately?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I not remember."
"You'll like this one."
He didn't answer, he just looked restlessly around the room. His gaze came to rest on the spectacular view outside the tower. "Nothing is like this where I live."
"You come from a place called Lyshriol, right?" When he didn't answer, she said, "I looked it up on the mesh. I couldn't find anything about a colony with that name."
"It is small place, not much." His gaze softened as he turned to her. "I translated another song tonight."
"Oh. Good." It relieved her that he hadn't objected when they told him the songs had to be in English. A lot of her acts sang in Chinese or Spanish. If he had been doing fusion, he could have sung in any language, even one he made up. But for holo-rock, labels wanted English, mainly for historical reasons, because it had started in English-speaking countries.
Curious, she said, "What language were you singing before?" Maybe talking about his home would relax him.
He smiled slightly. "It's called Trillian. From offworld."
Huh. That sounded made-up. "I've never heard of it."
"It's an old language."
"It can't be that old," Ricki said. "The earliest offworld colony has only been around a hundred and fifty years."
Del considered her as if she were a decision he needed to ponder. Then he said, "I don't come from an Allied colony. Lyshriol was one of the lost colonies from the Ruby Empire. Your
IV: Tower of Dreams
Ricki saw him in the window first. She was sitting in her tall chair, facing the glass wall, looking over the glistening city. And there, reflected in the glass, was an even more appealing vision: Del, walking into the room.
She turned around as the wall behind Del re-formed, leaving them alone in the Sky Room. He had looked good earlier today, but that was nothing compared to now. His tailored leather jacket was deliciously sinful, fitting his lean frame perfectly. He had left it unfastened, revealing a white shirt open at the neck just enough to show a triangle of chest hair.
Careful, Ricki thought. She never let people affect her too much, even just by noticing them. It gave them control, which meant the power to hurt her. She was a cool operator, smooth and unruffled, and she ignored the misguided poets who claimed they saw past her icy exterior to a lonely soul. She wasn't affected by the way those black leather pants clung to Del's legs. And that belt made out of starship ring fittings that rested so low on his hips, hugging his anatomy--goodness. His boots had just enough heel to shift his hips forward, accenting his sensual build. His hair, well that was just protein . . . gleaming, luxuriant protein that framed his face, his pouting mouth, and those huge eyes, as if he were some beautiful, wicked angel who could snarl like a devil.
Oh my.
"Hello," Ricki purred.
Del stalked over and slid into the other chair at the table. Tilting his head toward the window, he said, "That's quite a view." Without taking his eyes off her, he added, "Spectacular, in fact."
Ah, sweet seduction. She smiled at him. "That's why Prime-Nova keeps this suite."
A hum came from a glimmering mesh on the table, followed by the voice of the human bartender who served the penthouse. "Would your guest care for a drink, Ms. Varento?"
Ricki raised her eyebrow at Del.
"Orange juice," Del said.
Ricki laughed softly. "You may look like a lethal weapon, but I think the farm boy is still in there." She spoke into the comm. "Jack, bring him up one like you did for me, double time."
"Right away, ma'am."
"Like yours?" Looking disconcerted, Del tapped her cut-crystal glass. "That drink is blue. "
"Blue as a Night Dazer, which is what it's called." It was such a dumb name, it sounded like something she would come up with. "Mostly it's Southern Comfort."
Del laughed in his rumbling voice. "Whose comfort?"
"Haven't you had whiskey before?"
His smile vanished. "Yes."
Huh. What caused that reaction? "But not lately?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I not remember."
"You'll like this one."
He didn't answer, he just looked restlessly around the room. His gaze came to rest on the spectacular view outside the tower. "Nothing is like this where I live."
"You come from a place called Lyshriol, right?" When he didn't answer, she said, "I looked it up on the mesh. I couldn't find anything about a colony with that name."
"It is small place, not much." His gaze softened as he turned to her. "I translated another song tonight."
"Oh. Good." It relieved her that he hadn't objected when they told him the songs had to be in English. A lot of her acts sang in Chinese or Spanish. If he had been doing fusion, he could have sung in any language, even one he made up. But for holo-rock, labels wanted English, mainly for historical reasons, because it had started in English-speaking countries.
Curious, she said, "What language were you singing before?" Maybe talking about his home would relax him.
He smiled slightly. "It's called Trillian. From offworld."
Huh. That sounded made-up. "I've never heard of it."
"It's an old language."
"It can't be that old," Ricki said. "The earliest offworld colony has only been around a hundred and fifty years."
Del considered her as if she were a decision he needed to ponder. Then he said, "I don't come from an Allied colony. Lyshriol was one of the lost colonies from the Ruby Empire. Your
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