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C is for Confidence

Today's letter is C and the topic is Confidence. Confidence is actually the most important factor underlying all flirting. It keeps your moves fun, rather than sleazy. If you have tons of confidence naturally, you are well on your way. If not, adopt the mantra – fake it 'til you make it. Tell yourself you are confident. Make yourself believe it.


Here's what will happen: Your back will straighten. Your shoulders will push back. You will stand a little taller. Your arms will hang loosely. Try this pose where you convince yourself you are confident. Then cross your arms in front of yourself. See how you already feel less confident, more confrontational? Now slump your shoulders deliberately. Do you still feel confident? You don't look it.

A confident person walks more quickly than the average person, but blinks fewer times. Both of these moves are things you don't normally think of, but try practicing them so they become body memories to you. (You don't need to rush in a pushy way, nor should you stare. That's why practice is helpful.)

Smiles are a different post, but remember this. A smile goes a long way toward expressing confidence and helping you actually feel more confident. Try it at a time when you don't necessarily feel like smiling. You'll be pleasantly surprised.

People are drawn to confident people. Remember this fact if your goal is to attract someone. Any other tips you want to share, I'm always interested in learning. Thanks for joining me today.

D is for Dancing

Dancing comes in as many forms as there are cultures on the planet. But, in every form, dancing expresses emotion. Whether it's the joy of warriors after a successful hunt, the dramatic beauty of ballet, or the sexual display of couples attracted to each other, dance covers a wide range.


But I want to focus on dance as one of the best ways to flirt. It's romantic, intimate and fun.

The flirting starts before you're even on the dance floor. If you're the brave sort, you can always ask the guy to dance (just don't forget how much they like the chase). But if you want him to approach, you can't just sit there daydreaming. You need to establish eye contact (3-5 seconds; no staring) and give him a smile. Studies have shown that most men only approach women who've already initiated contact through subtle invitations like this. Even though the guys don't realize that's why they've decided to approach you. Yes, it's odd, I know. They think they are the brave ones.

Okay, you're dancing. I hope you have some sense of rhythm, even if he doesn't. Start your moves (and read my post on C is for Confidence if you're lacking in that department). It's here.

And here's a key element in cementing your partner's interest. Be sure you make periodic eye contact with the guy whose attention you're seeking. Don't let your eyes dart all over the room as if the place is on fire and you need the exit. If you look like you're scoping out some more appealing target, he may decide to do the same. You don't have to be brazen, but don't be shy, either. Let this guy know that these moves are for him.

Second, even though most dancing today is non-contact dancing (I'm presuming you are not grinding with this new man), you can still use your dance moves to sneak in some flirtatious touching. Rest your hand lightly on his forearm to get his attention when you want to speak or point something out to him. Accidentally brush his elbow or shoulder when the opportunity arises. (No grabbing; no groping.) Touching him is flirting, even if it appears to be done accidentally. He will get the subliminal message. People touch people they like.

Now of course if you have the opportunity for some "slow" dancing, touching is taken to a new level. Now you get to experience that sublime sensation of his arms around you, his body close to yours. (Those prim Europeans who banned the waltz knew what they were doing.)

You get to decide how intimate your touching will be, and you can send all the messages you want. Obviously, the closer you allow your bodies to get, the greater the interest you are showing. But if you want to flirt, don't plaster yourself all over him. Give him a chance to smell your perfume, to feel your hand in his. Give him the thrill of the chase by not letting him pull you quite as close as he wants to. Engage his brain by making him strategize how he can succeed with you.

Most of all, have fun!!! Remember guys are visual. Dancing is a very visual way to attract him
This month I'm celebrating the release of my new story, a futuristic romance called The Star Necklace. You can check it out here. My heroine lives on a planet with too many women, so she has to use all her moves to capture the heart of a reluctant warrior who wins her virginity.

My best flirter is Scarlet, who features in Scarlet and the Sheriff, which you can find here. I did a lot of this research to teach her how to bring the Sheriff to his knees and it was great fun.

C is for Confidence

Today's letter is C and the topic is Confidence. Confidence is actually the most important factor underlying all flirting. It keeps your moves fun, rather than sleazy. If you have tons of confidence naturally, you are well on your way. If not, adopt the mantra – fake it 'til you make it. Tell yourself you are confident. Make yourself believe it.


Here's what will happen: Your back will straighten. Your shoulders will push back. You will stand a little taller. Your arms will hang loosely. Try this pose where you convince yourself you are confident. Then cross your arms in front of yourself. See how you already feel less confident, more confrontational? Now slump your shoulders deliberately. Do you still feel confident? You don't look it.

A confident person walks more quickly than the average person, but blinks fewer times. Both of these moves are things you don't normally think of, but try practicing them so they become body memories to you. (You don't need to rush in a pushy way, nor should you stare. That's why practice is helpful.)

Smiles are a different post, but remember this. A smile goes a long way toward expressing confidence and helping you actually feel more confident. Try it at a time when you don't necessarily feel like smiling. You'll be pleasantly surprised.

People are drawn to confident people. Remember this fact if your goal is to attract someone. Any other tips you want to share, I'm always interested in learning. Thanks for joining me today.

Demon is a Red-Hot Lover

"Cupid shot me."

Angel thought she heard the words as she roused out of sleep in her New York City penthouse. But it was the long groan of the big man lying next to her in bed that really woke her.

"Demon?" She raised herself on her elbow to peer down at the unexpected sight. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a holiday, isn't it?" Demon's dark gaze moved from her face to her breasts. "Happy Valentine's Day."

She laughed. "This is not your kind of holiday."

He groaned again. "No kidding. But Cupid ambushed me."

He reached a hand toward her breast, then dropped it like she was on fire. "No," he said, "I have to be on my best behavior."

"Your best behavior is not very good." She smiled. "With one exception."

"Damn. Don't look at me like that."

"Why not?" From long experience, she knew he loved the tilted head, look-up-through-the-eyelashes-glance.

"Like I told you, Cupid ambushed me. She dropped me here with instructions to treat you right."

"Treat me right?"

"She said there's more to pleasing an angel than giving her great sex."

"Hmmm. Cupid did not ask for my opinion on this theory." Angel pushed back the sheet. Yup. He was naked. Gloriously naked. His broad shoulders tapered down to hips that performed with all the strength and stamina an angel could want. And she could plainly see that Demon was ready to perform.

She reached out a hand.

He caught it just before she touched his pride and joy.

"Demon?" Her gaze flew to his face. Never, in all the years of their sporadic relationship, had he halted her.

He inched away from her. "I'm not kidding, Angel. Look." He turned on his side so she could see his arm. A golden arrow glowed just under the skin in the center of his bicep. She stroked the arrow, feeling nothing but hard muscle. "That's sexy, Demon. Kind of like a submerged tattoo."

"It hurts like a bitch," he muttered. "Damn Cupid and her tricks."

"What does it mean?"

"She wouldn't tell me, the red-haired witch. She said I could figure it out."

Angel tossed back her long hair, knowing her breasts were barely confined by the white lace of her nightgown. Mentally, she wrote off the expensive garment. Demon was not noted for his patience. "While you figure it out," she said, "let me make you feel better."

"Angel." He flung himself on his back. "You don't know the worst part."

She leaned over to inhale his hot scent of burning leaves. "Tell me, Demon." She licked the side of his neck, loving the raspy feel of his morning shadow.

He arched his neck in a way that told her he was aching for more. "Ahhhh, Angel, stop that."

"Why?" She smoothed one hand down his hair-covered chest. Just as she reached the bottom of his hard abdomen, he grabbed her hand. Stopping her again?

She lifted her head to look at him. "What is going on?"

His dark gaze dipped to her breasts again and he groaned. "Cupid said I can't have sex with you until I do the right thing by you."

"The right thing?" She blew him a kiss. "That would involve you and me in a lip and body lock."

"I don't think that's what she meant. She said we demons get away with too much when it comes to females."

"Of course you do." She bent over him again, her head level with his abdomen. "A demon is the ultimate bad boy. And I want to lick my own personal bad boy right now."

"Stop that." He grabbed her hair.

"Ummm. That feels good," she murmured.

"Come on, Angel." He pulled her hair. "Help me figure this out so we can have some fun."

"Fine." She straightened to a kneeling position. "What do you want me to do?"

"Cupid said Valentine's Day is something special." He frowned up at her. "What the hell did she mean? I remember the day when it was a pagan fertility rite and I got to chase naked women over hill and dale. I'm not so familiar with current practices."

Angel pressed her silk clad knee against his hip. "She must have been talking about romance."

"You mean flowers and jewelry and shit like that?" His frown deepened.

"Those are symbols of romance," Angel agreed. "But not the essence of it."

"Forget essence. I don't know what the hell that means. I'm going for the symbols." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Why don't you forget about Cupid?" Angel slid across the bed and pressed her breasts against his warm back.

"I can't do that." He looked back over his shoulder at her. "She said she'll leave this stupid arrow in for the next year."

"I guess you wouldn't like that." Angel pressed a kiss to the back of his nape and bit him lightly. She inhaled his hot demon scent.

Demon pulled away from her. "Stop that, Angel. No fair."

"It's not fair to me that I can't touch you when you're sitting here naked."

"You're right." He stood. "We'd better get up."

"Demon." She caught her breath at the sight of him standing there, tall and broad shouldered, his lean body all hard planes and long muscles.

"Don't look at me like that," he warned.

"Just one lick?" She leaned forward, her head even with his erection. She didn't give a hoot about romance when faced with the equipment he had.

He turned away. "I'm getting in the shower," he growled. "And I don't want company."

++++

They exited her apartment building into a cold, blustery New York day. But as soon as Demon grabbed her hand, Angel warmed up and relaxed. The blaring horns, squealing tires, and people hurrying by were no more than background noise. She didn't see Demon all that often. When she did, her focus was on him.

"Where are we off to?"

"We're gonna find romance," he said, still with a growl in his voice. "And then we're coming back here to do what we should have been doing since I arrived."

She widened her eyes to tease him. "And what is that?"

"I used the word in my last sentence," he said, "and you damn well took note of it."

She laughed. "You know me too well, dear Demon."

His eyes heated as they looked down on her. "I know damn well what you like, Angel."

She slid her hand inside his open coat. "Can't we go do it right now, and then look for romance?"

"Nope." He raised a hand and a cab slid to an immediate stop.

She dropped her hand lower to cup his butt. "Please?"

"Get in." He held open the cab door.

He followed her in, filling the back of the cab. She waited until he was settled, his big legs sprawled widely. Then she moved closer, placing one hand on his thigh.

"Are you determined to torture me?" he demanded.

She inched her hand higher. "How'd you guess?"

He sucked in a sharp breath as she reached the crease at the top of his thigh. "Stop it."

"I haven't seen you since New Year's."

"Which is exactly why I can't take this torment." He grabbed her hand and folded his fingers around hers.

She could feel the tension in him. "Demon, I'm sure you've had women since New Year's."

"I'm not a monk," he snapped. "But you, Angel—" He stopped to smile down at her. "You are special."

Her lips curved with pleasure. She couldn't wait to get him alone. She raised her hand to reach for the back of his head. She had to pull those chiseled lips down onto hers. She wanted him rough and hungry. She wanted his tongue filling her mouth.

"We're here," Demon announced.

She glanced out the window. Tiffany's. The imposing structure on the corner of 57th and Fifth held a king's ransom of jewels inside its stone walls.

"I have enough jewelry, Demon."

"You're getting more."

He hauled her into the store. "The manager," he barked.

Everyone in the large showroom snapped to attention and, within seconds, the elevator door at the back of the store whispered open. A tall woman, exquisitely dressed in a coral de la Renta dress stepped out and surveyed the room with a gimlet eye. Until her eyes landed on Demon. She knew instantly he was the customer, and her entire body language shifted. Her hips developed a sway, her back arched a bit, and her face broke into a smile.

When she got close enough, she held out her hand. "M'sieur."

"Cherie." Demon raised her hand to his lips. "A pleasure," he murmured.

"Please." The manager touched his arm. "My office."

She led them to the elevators, which whooshed them up to a quiet sanctum. Angel followed like a forgotten child.

"I need something exquisite," Demon announced, "to celebrate this day for lovers."

"Certainly." The manager finally turned her regal head to survey Angel. "It is the rose gold you want. With that hair so…so.." She lifted her hands and let them fall, as if unable to find the words. "Insipid." She gave a small smile, as if pleased with her choice.

"Yes." Demon folded his hands on her desk, taking up a good deal of space. "Angel has the most beautiful hair. Richer than gold, no?"

"But of course." Her tone was bored as she clapped her hands and a young man dressed in a narrow black suit appeared instantly. "Bring me a selection of necklaces and bracelets. Particularly the filigree with the pink diamonds," she snapped.

When the black velvet tray was laid in front of them, Demon pointed to a platinum necklace dripping with diamonds and black pearls.

"I like this," he said.

"Very chic," the manager agreed, approval sugaring her voice. "But perhaps for someone with a more striking color scheme?"

Someone like herself, Angel noted sourly.

"You're right." Demon smiled, managing to convey approval just as if the manager hadn't just dissed Angel's color profile. "Someone such as yourself, for example."

A slight flush colored the manager's cheeks as she realized she'd been too heavy-handed. "But the pink gold filigree is perfect for your friend." She managed to make 'friend' sound like the unsexiest word in the English language

Demon nodded, clipping the necklace around Angel's neck. And, she had to admit, the necklace looked wonderful on her.

"I'll take it," Demon said, "and also the platinum."

And it wasn't until they were ready to leave that Demon handed the manager the narrow blue box holding the platinum necklace. "A token of our appreciation," he said smoothly.

"Sir." She actually looked surprised. "I couldn't accept it."

"Of course you can." He winked at her. "You may have saved my day."

+++++

Outside once more, they stood on the busy sidewalk, in the cold wind tunnel of a Manhattan street.

"What now?" Angel asked.

"That damn arrow is still burning me," Demon said. "Looks like the jewelry was not a good enough offering."

"I love the necklace, Demon. But is it a romantic gesture to give me a gift with one hand and give a gift to a stranger with the other?"

He scowled down at her. "You're not jealous are you?"

She laughed. "You know better."

"Damn it, Angel." He plowed both hands through his hair. "Help me here."

"Let's go back to my place and I'll make you forget all about that arrow." Angel stepped closer to him so she was one millimeter away from plastering her body to his. His heat burned her.

"I've got it." He snapped his fingers. "Flowers."

She sighed.

+++++

"Sir." The manager of Pierre's Flowers was busy, her hands flashing as she flipped through orders. But she couldn't help making a slow sweep of Demon's body. "I'm sure you realize this is Valentine's Day. Our stock has been sold out for weeks."

"Sharon." He wouldn't have missed her name badge. "You look like just the kind of woman I need." He picked up her hand, pressed a kiss to the back of it, then turned it over. Angel was sure he licked her palm.

"To perform a miracle for me," Demon continued smoothly, clasping her hand lightly in his. Angel knew exactly how the warm clasp of his fingers would send shivers of desire up the poor woman's arm and throughout her body. Sure enough, Sharon began to blush.

"I—I—" She couldn't speak.

"Nothing extraordinary," Demon said, his soothing tone like warm honey laced with rough, raw sugar. "I know you can find enough stray blooms to make a spectacular bouquet."

"No, I—"

Demon held up a hand, halting her. "No need to worry about delivery. We'll take it right now." He leaned closer. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your understanding." He smiled and the dazzled woman was left with nothing to do but stumble through the doorway behind her.

"Demon." Angel tried to look severe. "You know she'll take someone else's bouquet."

He waved his hand. "No worries. They always have extra flowers around."

"Not today."

"My happiness is at stake, Angel. Don't you care?"

"I only care about one thing when you're around, Demon." She pressed against him. "And it's not dead flowers."

"But flowers are living," he argued. "Maybe that will please Cupid. The jewelry is nothing more than metal and stones."

"You're being silly, Demon." Angel snuck her hand inside his open jacket and then slid between the buttons of his shirt right by his belly button. His warm skin burned her.

"So sexy, Angel," he murmured. He stroked the nape of her neck. "I'm going to bite you right here when we're finally alone." His long, callused fingers moved to the side of her neck. "And here…and here…until you arch your back and moan." He leaned down and spoke into her ear. "Don't you want to help me make that happen?"

So that when Sharon returned with a massive bouquet wrapped in silver paper, Angel couldn't do anything but silently urge the woman to move more quickly as she rang up the order.

But when they made it back to Angel's apartment, it was clear the flowers hadn't done the trick. They were beautiful, and it took her the better part of an hour to arrange them all in vases. But Demon was rubbing his arm when she finally finished.

"I made dinner reservations," he announced. "Maybe food is the answer, or a romantic atmosphere."

"Demon. Enough of this mad chase after the trappings of romance. Cupid is just messing with you."

"Yeah, that may be. But I don’t want to take the chance of having this fire stuck in my arm for the next year."

"I've got my flowers, and my jewels. I'm done."

"You don't have your orgasm."

"There is that," she admitted. "I suppose we have time for a quickie."

"First we're going out to dinner."

"Sorry, Demon, I have plans."

"Plans?" He frowned. "Who've you got plans with?"

"A whole group of males." She smiled wickedly.

"Getting kinky, huh?" He raised his brows. "Not too angelic of you."

"They're about six years old," she admitted.

"One of your charitable causes."

"Yes. A homeless shelter. I always go on Monday night to read to them so, even though it's Valentine's Day, I can't disappoint them."

He sighed. "Sometimes your better nature is very irritating, you know."

"Ditto on your lack of compassion."

"I suppose I'll have to go with you."

"That's not necessary. I'm used to going alone."

He grinned at her. "I'm not doing it for you."

"Not for the kids, either," she grumbled. "I know you, Demon."

"Aw, you're a good angel." He pulled her to his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know, in my own demonic way, I love you."

Electricity arced between them, crackly and bright and sizzling.

"Demon!" Angel grabbed his arm as a puff of warm air blew over them, and golden sparkles whooshed upward.

"Angel!" Demon grabbed her in a big hug, lifted her off the floor and swung her around. "That did it! I'm free."

A frown pulled between her brows. "Cupid wanted you to say you loved me?"

He laughed. "So simple."

She found her footing. "I like our holiday trysts, Demon. But I'm not doing happily ever after with you."

"Of course n—" He stopped, closing his lips together firmly, and glanced around, as if he expected Cupid to appear in front of them. "Let's just leave the words as they are, Angel." He pulled her closer. "We have more important things to do anyway." He reached for her breasts.

"I need to go to the shelter." She stepped back.

"But I can have sex now." He tweaked her nipples.

"No."

He pinched harder.

"Demon…"

"Come on." He yanked her up against his body. "I've been hard all day."

"I know, but I have to do the right thing." She tilted her head back to look into his face.

He moved his hands to her butt and rubbed her entire body against his. "Why does that turn me on?"

"Because everything turns you on?"

"Everything about you."

But he let her go.

+++++

When they got to the shelter way up on the West Side, Demon surprised her. He strode across the cracked linoleum floor, his electric presence dressing the place up to at least the basic level of an elementary school classroom.

"Who's here for fun?" he called out. Every person in the room, male, female, young and old stared at him. Clearly, he was where the fun was.

He squatted down to near eye-level with a young boy. "You here to listen to Angel read?"

The boy stared, apparently dumbstruck.

"Nothing better," Demon declared. "Words are gold, you know."

"No, they're not," a young girl with torn jeans and a stubborn mouth argued. "You can't buy nuthin' with words."

"But you can," Demon said gently. "You can buy dreams and fantasies and hope." He gestured toward Angel. "Just listen."

Angel sat cross-legged on the floor as he hustled all the children into a large circle. She held up the cover of her first book as she told them the title and the author.

Demon folded himself down beside her. He pressed his knee against hers.

"Once upon a time…" Angel began.

"A demon had the hots for an angel," he whispered into her ear.

She shot him a glare.

"…a big, brave boy went for a walk in the woods…" Angel continued.

"He wanted to toss her down in her bed and have his wicked way with her," Demon murmured.

"…the dew on the green grass of a new day tickled his toes…"

Demon grinned as he lowered his voice. "He wanted to lick the dew."

"Demon." She snapped the book closed. "Would you please excuse us?"

"Who wants me to leave?" His cocky grin said he'd get the answer he wanted.

"No! No! Stay with us!" The answers rang out around the circle.

"Fine." He settled back. "We'll let Angel read one story. And then we have to go. You want us to be able to celebrate Valentine's Day together, don't you?"

"Yeah." A few affirmatives.

"Gross." A few grunts from some of the boys.

"When she's done reading, I have a treat for everyone," Demon announced. "So listen up and pay attention."

Having achieved their rapt attention, he had one more whisper for Angel. "Hurry up. I'm hungry."

She took her sweet time reading the story.

When she was done, Demon produced a large bag of candy hearts from somewhere and waved them at the kids. "Line up by size," he called out, "and I'll give you each a handful."

When he was done passing them out, he opened his hand one more time. Two tiny hearts rested there. A pale blue one had 'Red Hot Lover' printed in crooked red ink.

Demon pointed. "That's me."

The pink heart had 'Be Mine' in tiny gold script. "That's for you," he said.

"Time to go." Angel grabbed his hand and hustled him out.

++++

"Where's your car, Demon." Angel gasped for breath.

"My driver has a new sweetheart. I had to give him the day off."

"What, you had to turn nice all of a sudden? I have some fond memories of that car."

"Yeah." Demon raised his arm. "Dumb move. He's having a better time than I am."

A cab jerked to a stop. They hurried into the back seat and Angel gave him the address.

Demon wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. His hand moved to her leg and began sweeping up the inside of her thigh.

"Stop that," she whispered, her giggle reducing the assertiveness of her demand.

He kept moving til he reached the band of her panties, and inserted one finger under the elastic.

A loud ripping sound tore apart the interior of the cab.

Angel saw the cabbie's eyes jerk to the rear view mirror. "No hijinks back there," he called out. "I got the good book here." He lifted a black leather book.

"Jesus," Demon groused.

"Yeah." Angel giggled again. "Literally."

With a small chuckle, Demon pulled her ruined panties from her legs and stuffed them in the pocket of his jacket. "You're gonna have to be quiet."

"Me?" She squealed in clamped down outrage. "Stop manhandling me."

"It's demon handling, if you don't mind. And I'll make sure you enjoy it." His hand was back between her legs again, and he pushed her thighs wider apart.

She tried to clamp them together.

"That's so cute," Demon growled. He hooked her right foot with his left, grabbed her left leg with his left hand, and pulled.

Cool air rushed between her thighs. Demon's hot hand followed.

"Stop," she hissed.

"Can't." He probed with his fingers. "There's the dew I wanted." His teeth grazed her neck, then sharpened as his fingers explored her softness.

"Demon." His name moaned out of her.

"Shhhh…" He eased a bit out of her. "Don't want to see the good book again."

Her giggle wrapped around another moan as he dragged a finger over her clit. She tried once more to force her legs together, but the vice holding them apart didn't move.

A frenzy of pleasure began to spiral with her.

"We're here," the cabbie snapped. "And not a moment too soon," he muttered, clicking the meter off.

Demon flung some bills at him, dragged Angel out of the car, and hurried them into the building. They never saw the doorman. Angel had a glimpse of mirrors and gleaming lights, but her attention was focused on the effort to hold her body together.

They stumbled into her apartment, but made it no farther than the white silk sofa in the living room. Demon pushed her down, and followed with his big body.

"Hurry, Angel." His hands were moving in a blur at his waist. She heard the zipper, and a grunt as Demon released himself.

She could do nothing more than spread her legs.

Demon froze, staring at her. "Damn," he said. He dropped to his knees, bent over her and pressed his mouth to the juncture of her thighs. His clever tongue began licking as he shoved two fingers inside her, curved them up to stroke her. With a cry, she arched against him and he slapped a hand on her hips, holding her down.

He lifted his mouth, said, "Come now, Angel," and bent to her again, all hard fingers and hot mouth. She spiraled into ecstasy.

The second she finished, she heard his dark voice and opened her eyes to see his glittering as he yanked up her shirt and tore open her bra.

"Brace yourself, Angel. I'm not gonna last." He surged into her, hard, and she bucked against him as another orgasm sparked within her.

"Damn, Angel, that feels good," he said, pumping slowly. He placed his hands on either side of her face to hold her, bent his head to kiss her, and abruptly switched into high gear.

Boom. Boom. Boom. He pounded her mercilessly, holding her with his hands and his legs, forcing her into another hard orgasm before he let go.

He slumped onto her and she snuggled her face into his neck, inhaling his hot demon scent as she tried to catch her breath.

"Can we make it to the bedroom?" Demon's deep voice vibrated against her cheek.

"I can't." She sighed, never wanting to move.

"Only one solution for that." He surged to his feet, hiked up his pants and snapped them, then leaned over to lift her. He carried her into her bedroom.

He laid her back on her wide, soft bed and slowly licked her into a third orgasm, not letting her take it 'til she was pulling on his hair and begging.

She licked him back to hardness. Then she tormented him. She loved to hear him beg in his deep, growly voice. She loved to lock gazes with him while he watched her mouth on him.

She knew exactly when he reached the point of no return, when he was so hard she thought he might break, when his thighs were tight with need and his balls rode up to touch her face.

She stopped. Pulled herself right off him while listening to him plead.

"Angel, baby, you're killing me." He grabbed her shoulders to urge her back onto his cock. It was a game they both loved.

Until he reached the point where he couldn't take any more. Then, when she slid her mouth back over him, he clamped his hands on the back of her head and held her there until he exploded in her mouth.

They lay entwined together on the bed for hours.

Until both of them suddenly knew it was midnight.

Demon raised himself so he could look at her in the brightness of the moonlight streaming through her uncurtained window. "Time to go," he murmured. He curved his hand down the side of her face. "But remember. I meant every word I said."



 http://www.carlycarson.com/

Demon Plays with Angel

The demon stepped into the dimly lit neonatal intensive care unit. “Good evening, Angel,” he said softly.

The angel looked up from where she was bent over a stainless steel barred crib. “What brings you here, Demon? This is no place for one of your kind.”

“I saw you fly in, Angel. My…appetite was whetted.”

“Take yourself and your appetites elsewhere. I’m busy.”

“The place is deserted.” He glanced around. Emptiness pooled in the corners of the room, reaching its sly fingers towards the one occupied crib. Soft lights haloed the angel and a very still, tightly swaddled baby. The blue and white cap on the baby’s head advertised his sex. The snaking tubes and softly beeping machines signaled his trouble.

“The obstetrical unit of this hospital is closing due to high malpractice rates.” The angel turned back to her task, leaning over the crib again. “This is the last baby born here.”

Demon almost missed her words, focused as he was on her shapely ass outlined by the pale gray uniform that blended so well with the gray hospital walls. Real nurses never wore dresses any more, but her glamour provided both an effective disguise, and an irresistible lure. This angel knew exactly what she was doing.

“That nurse glamour is oddly sexy, dear Angel.”

“Yes,” she snapped, turning back to glare at him. “We angels know how you demons like to get your purity fix every so often.”

He laughed. “Too true, sweetheart. It does cleanse the palate, so to speak.” He let his gaze wander over her, knowing his bold perusal would start a fire simmering within her. “And we demons,” he drawled, “know you angels need some lovin’ from a bad guy every so often to light you up.” He checked out her shiny brown hair, her wide-spaced gray eyes, her smallish, but determined nose, and her generous mouth. Cute. Adorably cute. He had to have her.

“Hush, Demon.” She turned away from him. “Your voice is too deep. It disturbs the baby.”

He moved to the other side of the crib so he could face her. Now he could savor the sight of her pert breasts, her narrow waist and gently flaring hips. Utterly delectable. His cock ached.

He nodded at the crib. “How much longer ‘til you’re done with the baby?”

“Must you sound so uncaring?”

“I’m a demon, darling. It’s not my job to care.” He grinned at her anger. It would only stoke her appetite.

“I’m not interested in whatever you might be offering tonight.” Her gray eyes snapped at him, told him to go, but her pointy nipples signaled him as effectively as the beeping machines.

“I think you lie, Angel.” He stepped closer, touched her hand that was smoothing the air over the baby’s head. He inhaled deeply to absorb her sparkly-star scent.

"Don’t touch me when I’m helping the baby. I’m determined to save him.”

Demon gestured to the multiple wires, the beeping, winking machines. “You can see mankind is having trouble with this one. And you don’t have the power of life and death.”

“Nevertheless, I intend to try.”

Two parents pushed open the door and rushed into the nursery, followed by a nurse. Demon grabbed a lab coat from a wall hook and he and Angel melted into the far shadows of the partially lit room.

The distraught parents noticed only their baby, as they bent over the crib. The mother cried softly, hope still trembling inside her tears. The father stood there grim and tense, trying to remain stoic in the face of the pain he knew hurtled towards them.

Demon slid his arm around his Angel’s waist. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Let the baby go now. Then we can play.”

“No!” Her angry whisper flayed him. “Go bother some other female. I inhabit the same realm you do. So I’m immune to your charms and glamour. Not like those poor mortal women you love to enrapture.”

“Come on.” He touched the back of her neck, stroking her as only a demon knew how to do. “I’m hotter than hell.” He laughed. “And I know exactly how hot hell is.”

She shivered, weakening, but not falling. “No.” She shrugged off his hand. “It’s a baby! I can’t just ignore it.”

“That’s the point. It’s just a baby. Plenty more where that came from.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. Instantly, goose bumps skittered across her skin, and he grinned within the kiss. She was far from indifferent to him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, still kissing and nipping at her neck. She didn’t resist, nor say something blistering like he half expected. Encouraged, he drew his hands slowly down her sides, avoiding her breasts. He clasped her waist.

“This baby must be saved,” she whispered, her voice fierce. But she didn’t move away from him. “If he dies, it will cast an unfortunate spell over this obstetrical unit. Humans are odd about superstitions like that. The hospital will never be able to open this unit again.”

“So women will go elsewhere.” He moved his hands to her stomach and began roaming upwards.

“The next closest birthing hospital is over 100 miles away. More babies will die unnecessarily.”

He reached the underside of her breasts. “The clock has struck midnight,” he said, using a soft tone to sweeten his harsh message. “It’s Halloween. I could take the baby now, if you don’t agree to have sex with me.”

“Demon!” She whirled on him, eyes spitting her own brand of silver fire. “You’ll never touch me in this or any other world if you harm that baby!”

He grinned slowly, savoring her fury. The more she resisted, the sweeter her ultimate capitulation would be.

"I like that fierce side of you,” he said.

“I don’t like the mean side of you. Don’t threaten me, Demon. You can’t take the baby.”

“Oh, but I could. The veil between the human world and ours is at its thinnest on Halloween. It’s easy for me to reach through.”

“The days when you could get men to perform evil for you on Halloween are gone. We angels have worked hard with humans to de-fang that holiday.”

“You haven’t eliminated the ability of the spirits in our realm to move freely in the human world.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here! It’s the one day in the year I can have some influence over this baby’s fate! So go away, Demon. I don’t want you here.”

She stared him down, her gray eyes sparking determination into his. But she didn’t move when he placed his hands directly on her breasts. “You know,” he said, “it’s a terrible thing for an angel to lie.” He tried very hard not to smile.

“Stuff it, Demon.” She spoke with the right amount of outraged conviction, but her nipples stabbed his palms.

“Right here and now?” He pushed his erection against her, hard. “Turn around, and bend over the table, then.”

Too late, Demon realized their voices had risen. The nurse straightened abruptly, her sharp gaze pinning them in the corner.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

Demon strode forward. “We were asked to check on the baby. We’re discussing a course of treatment.”

The mother gasped. “Can you do anything?”

“I don’t want to raise any false hope. If you can leave us alone for a few minutes, I’ll examine him.”

The nurse shepherded the parents out of the room.

Angel moved back to the crib. “You did raise false hope, Demon,” she said sadly. “Did you see the mother?”

Demon shrugged, following her. “I warned them.”

“They don’t know you’re a demon! They don’t know you don’t care.”

“I care about you, dear Angel.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know exactly which part of me you care about.”

“The best part, sweetheart.”

She sighed. “Go away, Demon. You’re a bad influence, as you want to be.”

Swallowing hard against a pressure in his throat, he reached for her. Demons didn’t do sadness. It was time for him to make his move. Even angels needed a bad boy now and then.

He placed his mouth on hers, a touch as light as the veil itself. She froze, unsure how to respond to a tenderness she clearly didn’t expect. “Demon,” she whispered, her lips tantalizing his as they moved.

“I’ll give you the rough stuff, later.” He increased the pressure, straining to keep from forcing her mouth open. But he moved his arms around her back to hold her securely where he wanted her. Slowly, slowly, he opened his mouth and hers. When he could feel the emptiness waiting for him, when he sensed her quivering anticipation through the trembling of her arms, he moved his tongue into her warm invitation. Shuddering with pleasure, she sucked him in.

He pulled her closer, tight against his body. “Angel,” he murmured. “I want you.”

Her hands moved in his hair. “Demon.” She sighed into his mouth. “I must use this night to do what I can for the baby.”

“Fine!” He jerked himself away from her. “If it means so much to you, I’ll save the baby.”

“You can’t do that.” She stared at him, eyes wide.

“You gonna watch?”

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t tease me, Demon. Don’t promise what you can’t deliver.”

“I can do it. But I need your help.”

"What do you mean?” Her hand fell away. “Is this one of your demon tricks?”

He stepped to the foot of the crib. “Your choice. Do you want to save this baby or not?”

“What do I have to do?”

“The baby needs some of my life force.” He watched her, wondering if she’d take the dare. “Move closer to me.”

Angel eyed the big demon planted before her. He vibrated with charisma and vitality. His black t-shirt and snug jeans barely contained his abundant supply of a life energy that crackled in the air around him. All demons had that excess of energy, which made them irresistible bad boys and, it had to be admitted, inventive and inexhaustible sex partners.

“Keep talking, Demon.” She tried to keep her voice expressionless. She didn’t trust him any more than she trusted an ambulance-chasing lawyer with a damning medical report.

“Even on Halloween, my life force needs to be at its maximum power to be effective.” His black eyes burned her body, undressing her once again. “The consequences of that surge of power will fall on you.” He reached for her hand, and pulled her closer.

“Demon.” She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Speak plainly.”

“Fine.” His strong teeth snapped on the word. “Get down on your knees.”

She froze, struck numb by the sudden realization of what he meant by life force. She stared at his body, which seemed to grow larger even as he stood there, strangely backlit by the dim nursery lights. She saw the smooth muscles of his upper arms limned in the golden light, his face strong and unyielding, his eyes dark and unwavering. His black hair angled across his wide brow.
“Do it, Angel,” he said, his deep voice mesmerizing her.

She dropped to her knees.

“Open my pants.”


She reached a trembling hand to his zipper, eased it down, had to stop. The button would have to be undone.

She glanced up to see his chest moving as he drew in deep breaths, exhaled them slowly. His hands clenched into fists by his hips, as she took him in hand.

“Start sucking,” he said, his voice a mere rasp.

She gasped, and he surged forward, leaning his tall frame over the crib. The tip of his penis stopped one millimeter from her lips and his scent enveloped her, the sharp fragrance of autumn leaves burning. She watched him place his big hands on the baby.

Her mind whirled as she tried to sort out her options. Was this a trick? Could he really transfer some of his life force to the baby? She’d seen the fog of death curling around the corners of the nursery. Only the blazing heat from the demon had held it at bay. She inhaled more of his scent. It drew her as mysteriously as her purity drew him.

Ultimately, she had no choice. She was unable to resist the potent lure he offered. She opened her mouth and took him in. He groaned, loudly, and hardened even more, pushing back on her throat.

“Sweet angel,” he murmured. “So sweet. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.” His thighs tightened, he jerked in her mouth, and she tensed for the deluge. Surely, he couldn’t hold back a hard explosion. She licked, moved up and down on his shaft, listened to his groans of pleasure.

But it was the monotonous beeping from the medical machinery that exploded suddenly. Beep! Beep! Beep! Sound ricocheted around her head and lights flashed in warning.

Demon yanked himself out of her mouth. “It’s done,” he shouted, reaching for his pants. “Get to the door!”

She stumbled to her feet, confused and shaken. She managed to reach the door just as a nurse came rushing through. The parents followed, hope and fear intermingling on their faces.

“Doctor?” The nurse tried to stop them. “What has happened?”


“Get the pediatrician!” Demon shouted. “The baby is stirring!”

Angel felt something crowding behind her, pushing her. Demon. Panting. She glanced back to see his face harsh with desire. He grasped her arm and towed her through the door.

“Hurry!” he panted. “My need is immense.” He hustled her through the empty, late night corridors. She half-jogged to keep up with his long stride. They burst through the hospital doors as a long black limousine purred to a stop in front of them. Demon wrenched open the door, snapped an order at the driver, and tumbled into the back with her. Music poured out of powerful speakers, strong music with a sensuous beat. She scrambled onto the seat as Demon sprawled before her. He reached for her knees and pushed them apart. He shoved up her skirt, growling when he saw her nakedness.

“Perfect, Angel.” He leaned in and his mouth found her. His tongue, strong and sure, flicked over her. Over and over, as she gasped with pleasure. He switched to sucking. She began thrashing on the seat, heedless of anything but the magic he wove upon her. He slapped one big hand on her hips to hold her in place. His other hand moved between her legs, and his fingers pushed into her. She came instantly.

Demon lifted his head and pushed her back onto the seat. He threw one leg over her as he wrenched open his pants. He grabbed her hair, lowered his lips to hers, and pushed into her while she still vibrated.

She tried to scream, but he filled her everywhere. His tongue. His cock. She bowed upwards to clasp him more tightly. Tighter and tighter. Would it ever be enough?

His hands moved over her in a frenzy. His harsh breathing filled the car. “Again, Angel,” he panted. “Keep coming. I won’t be stopping for a long time.” An electric guitar growled from the speakers, and a pounding drum beat a staccato rhythm. Demon rode her through another orgasm before he let himself go.

They clung together for an eon.

Demon finally lifted his head. His still-hot eyes looked down on her.

He tugged her onto the floor. “It’s as soft as a mattress down here and there’s room for me to spread out.”

She slid to the floor, sinking into the plush carpeting.

Demon reached for her dress. “Get rid of this.” He swiftly removed his clothes, then pulled her naked body to his. “Can you take me in if you’re on top?” he asked.

She eyed him, hard again already. “No.”

He laughed. “Baby.” But he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him. “Fine. But one way or another, I’m going to be in you all night long.”

She shivered with pleasure.

He kept his promise.

When a pink dawn pushed fingers of light through the darkened windows, they finally stirred. Demon reached lazily for the intercom button and ordered the driver to stop.

Then he looked at Angel. He tweaked her nose, nibbled his way down her neck, and latched onto her breast. He sucked strongly for several minutes, until her breath panted and her back arched.

When he raised his head, his hot eyes burned with satisfaction. “Same time next month?"

She barely managed a nod.

He grinned. "Don’t be busy next time. I want your undivided attention.”

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Copyright @ 2010 by Carly Carson. All rights reserved.

The Star Necklace - Chapter 1

Ronan Macaulester had never believed in love at first sight.

His opinion wouldn’t change today.

However, despite his dire need for haste and his mortal peril as an Otherlander on the unfriendly planet of Ares, he drew rein at the sight of a young woman kneeling by the side of the dusty road. Her hands were clasped to her chest, and her eyes flashed at two men who taunted her.

“Take off your top,” the older of the two men shouted. His booted foot stamped the ground. “You know the rules.”

Ronan’s bird squawked loudly, as if annoyed by his rider’s stop. More likely, the sensitive animal had picked up the hint of violence hovering in the air, as dark as the line of woods edging the far side of the green meadow.

Big Boots moved closer, crushing the delicate flowers which bloomed around the woman’s spot like a beautiful, but ineffective, moat. He raised one leather-gloved hand, fingers clenched into a fist.

Ronan straightened in his saddle and reached for the cool comfort of his knife. He’d use the high-tech, highly lethal Tazzrak gun hidden beneath his travel-worn shirt only as a last resort.

The woman leaned back against a large boulder, even as her eyes flashed a warning.
“Don’t touch me.” Her strong, melodious voice rang out, and the men halted as if the sound were a tangible, physical barrier to their assault. “You can see enough to know what you’ll be bidding on.”

Shock raced through Ronan’s body. Bidding on? This woman was a whore, offering herself by the side of the road?

Her dress, shimmering in a peach shade almost identical to her skin tone, covered her from neck to ankle, conveying an overall impression of luscious beauty rather than sex for sale. Her golden brown eyes fairly sparkled with intelligence and determination. And the pride that stiffened every inch of her slender body gave her a look of dignity he’d never seen in a prostitute.

But her feet were bare, and her long pale hair flowed down her back in a waterfall of temptation. Though neatly bound close to her head with silk ribbons intertwined in a pattern comprehensible only to women, the hair fell in sensuous abandon where it had been let free. Ronan squashed the memory that intruded in his mind—of another young woman he’d known who’d worn her hair just like that. Another time. Another planet. He refused to remember.

Closer inspection of this woman revealed that her garment was sleeveless, and the neckline in fact plunged narrowly to her waist, yielding a teasing glimpse of cleavage, more than enough to be a distraction. His body stirred.

His eyes glittering with anticipation, the booted man took another step closer to her.

“We have a right,” he repeated, his voice as gravelly as the dusty roadside under the restless feet of the large emu bird on which Ronan was mounted. The emu had an uncanny sensitivity to humans and, if provoked to attack, the nine foot tall, three hundred pound bird could kill a man. But, after two weary months of constant travel, Ronan had grown to admire and trust his bird Griffin. He leaned over to stroke the soft black feathers on the neck of his agitated mount.

The distraction also gave him a moment to decide what he should do about this woman. His instinct shouted that a woman this beautiful, and gutsy enough to try to face down two men, would never offer herself as a common whore. But she knelt there in the flower-strewn meadow almost calmly, making no attempt to escape. And the men seemed confident in their behavior, unalarmed by Ronan’s presence, a stranger and a witness to their actions.

Ronan had learned long ago not to make snap judgments. Here, on the isolated and little-known planet Ares, caution seemed even more important than usual. He’d traveled widely and knew that what was forbidden on one planet could be a sacred religious rite on another.

“Show us your breasts,” the younger man called out. His blond hair spiked back from his forehead in contrast to the long thin nose jutting aggressively from his face. “Or we’ll expose them ourselves.”

The woman glanced for the first time at Ronan as if wondering what role he would play here. Her gaze halted at his hand, now stroking the black feathers of his bird, as he soothed the restless animal. A delicate pink flush bloomed suddenly in her cheeks and Ronan’s hand stilled. What was she thinking?

His other hand tightened on his knife even as he felt despair squeeze his heart. He didn’t have time to rescue a damsel in distress. He’d tracked his brother to this planet, found him murdered, and needed to return home with his painful news before his impatient father launched an attack to rescue his missing sons.
Why couldn’t he simply accept that the woman sat there voluntarily, turn his back and make good his escape from this benighted place? This was none of his business.

But the voice of his mother sang the theme of his rearing, even as he hesitated here by the meadow. You are the blessed son of a strong family from a wealthy planet. Your obligation will always be to protect the innocent.

While his father had taught him to defend his family and planet from any enemy, his mother had reminded him of the reverse side of his strength, his duty to protect the defenseless.

With an inward sigh, he raised his voice. “What’s happening here?”

The two men turned as one. One of them spat in the road. “Leave us, ferengi.”

Ronan didn’t flinch at the galaxy-wide epithet for a foreigner. He’d been called worse in his travels.
“Mistress?” he inquired, hoping the appellation carried the same mark of respect here that it held elsewhere. “These men appear to be bothering you.”

“Rogues,” she said. Her full mouth tightened as if to hold in more contemptuous words. And, for the first time, Ronan noticed the beautiful moonstone necklace that gleamed around her throat like a blessing from the gods. Cool, translucent stones sparkled like stars on her golden skin. The mystery deepened. A necklace of that quality was literally priceless anywhere in the universe.

He subtly urged his bird closer to the woman.

Three more men clattered over the hill and into view. As if they bore doom in their wake, a dark cloud scudded overhead and obliterated the weak sunlight. A sudden chill raced down Ronan’s back as the mounted trio drew rein sharply at the side of the road, raising a swarm of choking dust. He could smell danger, as if the sharp, acrid tang of a lightning bolt had struck nearby.

As if emboldened by potential reinforcements, the first two men exchanged a glance and then sprang simultaneously at the woman. Each pulled one side of her dress, and the garment tore open, revealing her perfect, golden, pink-tipped breasts.

For a moment, no one drew a breath as the dust settled. Even the birds remained silent as if in homage. Then a soft breeze exhaled a sigh over the valley, and Ronan moved, vaulting off his bird and racing toward the woman. In spite of himself, his eyes latched onto her perfection. An assault of lust almost stopped him in his tracks, but he used it to knock the two men sideways, one with each hand. Springing past the downed men, he tore off his vest and dropped it over the woman.

“Stand up,” he ordered quietly. “Stay behind me.”

He met her gaze briefly, reading the disappointment there. She knew he’d looked at her nakedness.

Casting off a vague sense of regret, he turned to face the three mounted men, hoping to read their intentions. Right now, they remained on their birds, but the burly black-haired one grinned widely, as if he intended to enjoy whatever happened. A smaller, slender man with silver hair sat at his ease in the middle of the group. The third man, as drab as the cloud of dust, licked his formless lips and waited.

The silver haired man locked gazes with Ronan. His eyes signaled contempt and arrogance, a look Ronan had endured before on this planet.

But he couldn’t stand by and watch five men do whatever they intended with this woman. Not when they’d already started by half-stripping her. If he had to, he could probably take down all five of them. But, as tempting as that prospect seemed right now, he didn’t have time for that, either. Ronan held up a hand.

“Move on,” he shouted. He injected into his voice all the habits of command he’d learned in twenty years of military service.

His bird squawked suddenly, as if she urged her mates to action. The birds ridden by the three men moved restlessly, harnesses jingling, pink beaks prodding the air.

The silver haired man jerked on the reins of his bird, yanking her into stillness. He spoke slowly, his thin mouth curving in a slight smile as if he already enjoyed his victory.

“We’ve come to view the sacrifice,” he said.

“What sacrifice?” Ronan demanded.

“You don’t know our customs, ferengi,” the burly man shouted. “Be off!”

Suddenly, the woman stepped to Ronan’s side. He smelled her perfume, a faint floral bouquet, as if the flowers at her feet had transferred their scent to her.

“The fault is mine,” she said woodenly. He heard her take a deep breath, and then she flung off his vest. Her torn dress gaped wide.

“Observe, gentlemen.” The second word was laced with bitterness. “Plan your bids.”

The incipient violence in the air braked to a sudden halt as all six men stared again, transfixed.

“Allow me.” She brushed past Ronan, her skirt rustling softly in the silence. “I must do my duty.” Sinking gracefully to the ground once more, she resumed the kneeling pose she’d held when he arrived. Except for the breasts bared to the gaze of every man.

Ronan gathered his wits and squatted down in front of her, shielding her from the view of the other men. With a supreme effort of will, he kept his eyes fixed on her face.

“Would you please explain what is going on here?”

“She doesn’t owe you anything!” one of the men shouted.

Ronan turned, and for the first time, his large knife gleamed visibly in his hand. “You may attack me,” he said softly. “But I’ll kill the first who try.”

“Enough.” The woman spoke sharply though her voice chimed musically in the still air. “These men are enjoying what is theirs by right, the custom of our land.”

“Your custom requires you to strip before any man who passes by?” Ronan heard the anger in his voice and fought to control his emotions. He wasn’t sure why this spectacle disgusted him so profoundly. He didn’t inhabit this planet, knew nothing of its customs, and had neither the time nor the right to interfere.

But he simply couldn’t turn his back on this woman, no matter that she now seemed compliant in this strange tableau.

“My wedding day is tomorrow,” she said, her voice as colorless as the now sunless day.

“And?”

“It is our custom to auction every bride on the eve of her wedding.”

“Auction?” he repeated hollowly. “What exactly are you selling?”

“My virginity.” Her soft voice traveled no farther than his ears.

“By all the gods.” He drew in a sharp breath. “That’s barbaric.”

“It is our most honored religious custom. No bride is exempt.”

“Whom does this action honor?” He cast a derisive look at the listening men whose eyes remained fixed on what they could see of the woman. “The god of depravity?”

“It is our custom,” she repeated. Her fierce gaze met his and held it. “I don’t like it. I don’t believe in it. But I have more important battles to fight for my countrywomen.” Her hand waved through the perfumed air. “Go. I see you’re anxious to be off.”

“And what will happen to you?”

“The same thing that would have happened if you hadn’t come along.”

“Enough!” The silver haired man urged his mount forward. “You’re a stranger here, an Otherlander by your dress and your ignorance. You will not disparage our Mother Goddess. It is her command we follow, and our women are pleased to do her bidding.”

Ronan snorted with contempt. “Who interprets the Goddess’s wishes? And who gets the money generated from the auctions?”

The man stopped directly in front of Ronan. “The ministers interpret her wishes, of course.” His smooth voice resonated with self-assurance. “And the money goes directly to the Temple of the Goddess.”

“Fine.” Ronan switched tactics with the ease of a warrior known as much for his political acumen as his battlefield prowess. “I presume any man can participate in this auction?”

“Yes,” the man answered slowly, a small frown darkening his pale face. “Though for a woman such as this one, the stakes will be very high.”

“I can see that.” Ronan nodded. “And I am prepared to meet them. So there’s no need for her to continue exposing herself here.”

He picked up his vest and placed it over her shoulders again, an impulsive gesture he’d undoubtedly live to regret.

He would stay until tonight and attend the auction even though it would force even more haste into his journey. If he didn’t make it back to his port of entry before the night moons vanished from the sky approximately three days from now, he’d be trapped here for at least two years, a harsh price and one he had no wish to pay.

He knew well, both from his own bitter experience in tracking down his murdered brother, and from whispers that hissed throughout the galaxy, that the planet Ares harbored only death for those few who dared to tarry on its unfriendly soil.

But he’d traveled inward by this same route, tracking his brother. So he knew that his return schedule, though tight, had several hours of cushion built in. If he didn’t use those hours to help this woman, he’d never forgive himself.

He kept his attention focused on the men as the woman rose gracefully to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a low voice.

He raised a brow. “I’m taking you out of here.”

“Why?”

“You deserve better than this.”

He looked down at her, alarmed by a sudden rush of protectiveness. The vulnerability of her bent head contrasted sharply with the tension in her stiff shoulders. Her silvery blonde hair framed a strong face softened by intelligent brown eyes and soft, sensuous lips, lips he suddenly and inappropriately wanted to taste. Lust at first sight was something he definitely believed in.

Pushing the thought aside, he spoke harshly. “Where’s the man you’re supposed to marry?” He should be here protecting her.

“He’s not allowed to interfere.”

Was that a trace of defensiveness in her tone? “I’m not either,” he pointed out. Placing a hand lightly on her waist, he urged her toward his mount. “Let’s go.”

“You can’t take her away.” The booted man jutted out his jaw, as if to buttress his courage. “She’s supposed to sit there all day.”

“Show’s over.” Ronan stared the bully down, letting his hand flex idly on the still visible knife. “You don’t want to be my first victim, do you?”

Deliberately, he moved toward the man, forcing him to either give way, or risk a physical confrontation.
The man waved at his comrades. “Come on, guys. We can take this ferengi.”

“Harrah!” The burly man kicked his bird forward.

“Stop!” The silver haired man held up his hand. “We could deal with him here and now. But it might be more amusing to let him attend the auction tonight.” His cold gaze rested on Ronan. “If he’s so anxious to participate.”

“I’ll escort you home,” Ronan said to the woman. When she hesitated, he added, “Your presence here will only cause more trouble.”

She looked from Ronan to the five men watching her, as if wondering which choice would be the lesser evil. A tendril of hair blew across her face, and she turned her head into the breeze, facing the group of men who stood on the roadway.

“You belong to us, Lady Galatea.” The silent man spoke for the first time, softly.

Ronan dropped his hand to her waist and squeezed gently. He leaned forward to murmur in her ear. “You belong to yourself, Galatea.”

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