your colony!”
From bad to worse. “Of course. I was just—”
“I won’t hear your excuses, young lady, because there are none. This is a most inappropriate time for such displays of impropriety. As you well know, the day of our next sacrifice approaches.”
His eyes narrowing at the censure, Michael loosened his hold and turned to her mother. Gloriously naked, he asked, “And just who the hell are you?”
SO cheerful that he wanted to whoop, to do cartwheels and kicks and then carry Kayli off for some very private one-on-one celebration, Mallet barely held himself in check.
That is, until the pinch-faced broad showed up, and all the joy sucked out of the room as if her cold presence freeze-dried all happy emotions.
Given how Kayli squirmed beside him, any dope could figure out that she was horrified. Mallet disliked that most of all.
“Mother,” Kayli said, “I can explain.”
“Mother?” Mallet looked at the woman more closely. She looked to be a well-preserved forty-something, old enough, he supposed, to have mothered Kayli, if she’d gotten an early start at that sort of thing.
The coloring differed, with Kayli blond and hazel-eyed, and her mother dark-haired with striking blue eyes. Still, he saw a resemblance in the stubborn chin and high cheekbones, the shape of the nose and arch of the eyebrows.
But where Kayli was lean and lithe, her mother was voluptuous. The older woman spilled curves, attitude, and indignation.
For many reasons, not the least of which was how she’d spoken to Kayli, Mallet disliked her on sight. “So that’s her, huh? The head honcho?”
Kayli groaned.
The mother puckered up like she’d just bitten into a very ripe lemon. “Kayli, what does he say?”
Kayli cleared her throat. “It’s his native colloquialisms, Mother. He’s only confirming—in his own way—that you’re the Arbiter, our matriarchal leader.”
“I see.” She gave a graceful but hoity nod. “This is my colony, yes.”
“Own it lock, stock, and barrel, do you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Well, I hope you’re not looking for me to bow or kneel or anything subservient like that. Ain’t in my nature.”
She pinched even more. Unlike her daughter, her gaze never once wavered from his face. “Not at all. It is our hope that you shall take a place in the hierarchy, and bow to no one. To the contrary, our people will hail you.”
“Yeah, I’m not much into that, either.” He didn’t mind a horde of screaming fans while he fought, or some sexy female groupies outside of a bout. But other than that, he preferred to be treated like everyone else.
Ignoring his dissention, the mother tried to forge on with her purpose. “Shall I call you Michael?”
“Whatever floats your boat.” Her uptight, aloof attitude continued to nettle him. He’d never been a big fan of social classes, and he wasn’t about to start liking the separation now.
Again, Kayli rushed to explain his meaning. “If it pleases you to address him by his first name, he’s agreeable.”
The mother said, “Thank you, Michael. And you may address me by my given name, Raemay.”
“Sure thing.” Now that his playtime with Kayli had been demolished, he supposed he should find out about the business at hand. Crossing his arms over his chest, he faced Kayli’s mother and quirked a brow. “Now what, Raemay?”
Put off by his casual speech, she nonetheless mustered up her diplomacy. “I wish you to meet my daughters, Idola and Mesha.”
He glanced back at Kayli with surprise. “You have sisters?”
“Yes. I informed you previously, remember?” Her gaze took another quick trip down and then back up his body again.
Pleased that his body kept drawing her attention, he smiled.
When her flustered gaze clashed with his, more color warmed her face.
Amused, Mallet accepted the robe that two squirrely fellows kept trying to get on him without actually getting close enough to touch him. He held it up,
From bad to worse. “Of course. I was just—”
“I won’t hear your excuses, young lady, because there are none. This is a most inappropriate time for such displays of impropriety. As you well know, the day of our next sacrifice approaches.”
His eyes narrowing at the censure, Michael loosened his hold and turned to her mother. Gloriously naked, he asked, “And just who the hell are you?”
SO cheerful that he wanted to whoop, to do cartwheels and kicks and then carry Kayli off for some very private one-on-one celebration, Mallet barely held himself in check.
That is, until the pinch-faced broad showed up, and all the joy sucked out of the room as if her cold presence freeze-dried all happy emotions.
Given how Kayli squirmed beside him, any dope could figure out that she was horrified. Mallet disliked that most of all.
“Mother,” Kayli said, “I can explain.”
“Mother?” Mallet looked at the woman more closely. She looked to be a well-preserved forty-something, old enough, he supposed, to have mothered Kayli, if she’d gotten an early start at that sort of thing.
The coloring differed, with Kayli blond and hazel-eyed, and her mother dark-haired with striking blue eyes. Still, he saw a resemblance in the stubborn chin and high cheekbones, the shape of the nose and arch of the eyebrows.
But where Kayli was lean and lithe, her mother was voluptuous. The older woman spilled curves, attitude, and indignation.
For many reasons, not the least of which was how she’d spoken to Kayli, Mallet disliked her on sight. “So that’s her, huh? The head honcho?”
Kayli groaned.
The mother puckered up like she’d just bitten into a very ripe lemon. “Kayli, what does he say?”
Kayli cleared her throat. “It’s his native colloquialisms, Mother. He’s only confirming—in his own way—that you’re the Arbiter, our matriarchal leader.”
“I see.” She gave a graceful but hoity nod. “This is my colony, yes.”
“Own it lock, stock, and barrel, do you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Well, I hope you’re not looking for me to bow or kneel or anything subservient like that. Ain’t in my nature.”
She pinched even more. Unlike her daughter, her gaze never once wavered from his face. “Not at all. It is our hope that you shall take a place in the hierarchy, and bow to no one. To the contrary, our people will hail you.”
“Yeah, I’m not much into that, either.” He didn’t mind a horde of screaming fans while he fought, or some sexy female groupies outside of a bout. But other than that, he preferred to be treated like everyone else.
Ignoring his dissention, the mother tried to forge on with her purpose. “Shall I call you Michael?”
“Whatever floats your boat.” Her uptight, aloof attitude continued to nettle him. He’d never been a big fan of social classes, and he wasn’t about to start liking the separation now.
Again, Kayli rushed to explain his meaning. “If it pleases you to address him by his first name, he’s agreeable.”
The mother said, “Thank you, Michael. And you may address me by my given name, Raemay.”
“Sure thing.” Now that his playtime with Kayli had been demolished, he supposed he should find out about the business at hand. Crossing his arms over his chest, he faced Kayli’s mother and quirked a brow. “Now what, Raemay?”
Put off by his casual speech, she nonetheless mustered up her diplomacy. “I wish you to meet my daughters, Idola and Mesha.”
He glanced back at Kayli with surprise. “You have sisters?”
“Yes. I informed you previously, remember?” Her gaze took another quick trip down and then back up his body again.
Pleased that his body kept drawing her attention, he smiled.
When her flustered gaze clashed with his, more color warmed her face.
Amused, Mallet accepted the robe that two squirrely fellows kept trying to get on him without actually getting close enough to touch him. He held it up,
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