Special Forces 01 (37 page)

She danced several more dances with Rys and loved every moment of it. This was decidedly different from the dance lessons at home because of the formal atmosphere and high energy excitement of the crowd. It was also oddly the same, in every meaningful way she could imagine. Rys was just as he always was; fun to be around, a joy to dance with, and she never needed to worry about him being forward or doing something that might make her uncomfortable. As they were twirling around the floor and enjoying the music, well into the first hour of the ball, she suddenly became aware that he never even seemed to notice the other women in close proximity all around them. Oh, he responded politely and attentively if he was speaking to someone directly, of course. It was just the generic way he looked at them—it couldn’t compare with the proprietary way he looked at her.

Anne nearly stumbled and fell when this finally occurred to her, like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. She suddenly experienced a hard time breathing, and was fighting to contain the resultant thrill that was burning through her nervous system at light speed.

Rys, alert to her unexpected movement, stopped immediately. “Anne, are you alright?”

In an attempt to cover her amazement and confusion she smiled up at him weakly, fanning her face with her hand. “I think perhaps I am getting a little too warm. Can you go round up some punch for me? I’m going to go find Candice and freshen up a bit.”

“Of course,” he assured her, instantly scanning for the location of the nearest refreshment table to accommodate her request.

“Thank you, I’ll be back in a moment.” Anne reluctantly relinquished her hold on him, and turned frantically, looking for her sister as she let go. It took a second to locate Candace on the crowded dance floor. In the end, it was Gremlin she zeroed in on first. He was noticeably taller than most of the people there tonight, and in the formal black uniform of Fourth Colony, he stood out like a glittering ebony beacon. Anne made a straight line charge for Candace, hooking her arm as she walked past the couple, unceremoniously dragging her away. As an afterthought, she called back to Gremlin over her shoulder, “I need Candace for a moment, and I’ll bring her right back.”

Gremlin noticeably bemused, and suddenly without his dance partner, just nodded. “Alright, I will be standing by.”

Candace regained her balance and composure as she fell into step with her sister. “Anne, what is going on? Do we have a Fashion Emergency?”

“No, it is something much more important.” Anne didn’t elaborate until they were well inside the women’s lounge, safely sequestered from any males listening in. “Candace, I think I just had an epiphany, and I need you to tell me if I’m right. Rys…Rys doesn’t look at any other women like he looks at me, does he?”

Candace gave her an incredulous look, clearly entertained by her sister’s question. “You’re just
now
noticing this? Where have you been, in a coma?”

Anne leaned against the wall to cool her suddenly overheated body. Her knees felt weak, like she had just finished running a long distance race. “No. I mean, I knew he liked me, and I’m important to him. I am his friend after all, but it just hit me a moment ago, when we were dancing, that he doesn’t look at anyone the way he looks at me. He looks at me like, well, like…”

“Like the sun dutifully rises and sets each day just for your personal pleasure?” Candace responded a little dryly, thoroughly enjoying knowing something before her big sister got it. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look at him the same way, in case you weren’t aware of that either.”

Anne wouldn’t be surprised if she was right about that too. It just stunned her into silence. She knew that Rys loved her…he’d already made that perfectly clear, and in front of her father, no less. It just hadn’t occurred to her that he was
in
love with her. She felt decidedly overwhelmed by that revelation, like her head was about to explode.

“Anne.” Candace grabbed her shoulders, demanding her full attention. “Has he made any move to let you know yet?”

“What? Uh, no, I don’t think so, although I have missed so much already, that I can’t trust my own powers of observation at the moment,” Anne replied numbly, trying to get her head to stop spinning.

“Then you’ve still got time to think this over. However I suggest you don’t do it right now. In case you haven’t noticed, both of our dates look very hot tonight, volcanic in fact! I don’t think it’s a wise move to leave either of them unattended for too long, there are plenty of predators out there tonight.”

Candace made an excellent point. “Are my makeup and hair alright?”

“Fix your lipstick and put on a little more gloss, and you’re perfect. What about me?”

“Your gloss is wearing off too,” Anne informed her after a quick check.

They stepped up to the mirrors long enough to adjust lipstick and gloss to their best advantage, and then darted out again, intent on reclaiming their companions.

Unfortunately, their timing was abysmal. Just as they entered the ballroom again, The Creep suddenly materialized like a malevolent ice fog at Anne’s elbow.

Anne flinched and leaned away from him instinctively, like she would have a smelly wet dog. She couldn’t help it. This man had been known to crowd your personal space, becoming far too intimate, if he was allowed to maneuver in close enough. Mentally she groaned, and shifted gears. Forget worrying about her date, she was now the one that was in imminent peril!

“Anne, Candace, how
wonderful
to see you tonight, I was hoping you would be here.” The Creep—otherwise known as Tyler Williamson—gave them both a particularly wide, self-satisfied smile. With his slicked back hair, tight black tuxedo and doughy physique, the smile looked contrived and plastic. “I haven’t seen either of you at any of the usual functions for the past two months or so. You seem to be without escorts this evening, as usual. Please permit me to offer my services—”

“We’re not alone tonight,” Anne cut in quickly, disabusing him of whatever notions he was cheerfully arranging his head. “We both have dates.”

Williamson’s eyes hardened, clearly surprised at her statement. “Oh? How nice! Anyone I know?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Candace answered coolly, looking like she would like to see him dispatched out of town
under
the fastest vehicle available. “Regardless, I’m afraid we’re not free to chat. Do excuse us, won’t you?”

Williamson stepped into her path, expertly blocking her escape, a move he had perfected since most females didn’t fancy his companionship. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I collected just one dance. Won’t you do me the honor, Candace?”

“Candace! There you are! I was getting concerned.” Gremlin appeared out of thin air, right next to Candace, smoothly inserting himself between them, and cutting off Williamson’s access to her. He sent a challenging smile in The Creep’s direction, unsettling the man sufficiently that he backed up a step out of sheer reflex.

Anne was of two minds about Gremlin’s fortuitous appearance. She was happy for Candace that her white knight had shown up in time to rescue her from the clutches of their nemesis. At the same time she was miffed that it wasn’t her knight riding to the rescue. She gave Gremlin a plaintive plea by mouthing the word,
Help!

Gremlin winked at her reassuringly, and stared off into space for a moment. Anne hoped desperately that he was silently summoning his Captain and issuing emergency instructions on her current predicament and location.

Williamson took in the uniform, his expression clearly confused and concerned. “Candace, would your escort this evening be a cadet from one of the local military academies?”

“Good heavens no,” she assured him with obvious relish, savoring the opportunity to make a formal introduction. “This is Lieutenant Bran Gremillion, Special Forces 01. He’s from Fourth Colony. Bran, honey, this is Kyle Williamson. I believe I mentioned him earlier this evening.”

Gremlin’s smile instantly morphed with a distinct edge to it, like a fine piece of sword quality steel. “Ah, yes, I do remember. Williamson, I am
delighted
to be able to put a face with the name.”

Kyle understood the unspoken threat in that simple declarative statement. His chalky pallor dropped a shade to the paler side of the color chart.

Anne heard a familiar set of footsteps and turned expectantly, knowing her own deliverance was now at hand. Rys emerged from the crowd like an avenging angel, his face set in an expression that could either mean High Alert or Mass Destruction. There was probably an equal amount of both floating in the mix, knowing him.

He completely shocked her, moving in closer than she anticipated and slid an arm around her waist like it was magnetized. Anne steeled herself, refusing to register just how startled she was by this obviously familiar and possessive move. She nearly lost her grip on her game face when he captured her hand with his and brought it up to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Anne, I see now that I won’t be able to leave you unattended for very long.” He raised his eyes to impale Williamson with a glacial stare. “I obviously need to start carrying a big stick to beat the men off with.”

Williamson gulped. If the Lieutenant gave him pause for thought, the Captain standing in front of him was something conjured up straight out of his worst nightmares.

As the daughter of a career diplomat, it was completely out of character for Anne, as she made the introductions, to be unable to squelch a flash of teeth. “Mr. Williamson, this is Captain Arystair Savar also of Special Forces 01. He’s Lieutenant Gremillion’s Captain. Rys, this is Kyle Williamson. He is usually in attendance at these functions, and likes to make the rounds on the dance floor.”

Rys’s eyes didn’t deviate from their target. “So I have been told.” His tone clearly indicated that was no longer a healthy endeavor where Anne Dorian was concerned. “Well, Mr. Williamson, I’m afraid you will not have the opportunity to enjoy Anne’s company this evening. I was never able to develop a tolerance for sharing, and I have every intention of shamelessly monopolizing her from now on. Excuse us, won’t you?”

With his arm still around her back, Rys escorted her back to the dance floor, and away from The Creep. Anne beamed up at him, engaging in a transparent case of hero worship. “Rys, have I ever mentioned how wonderful you are?”

He gave her an amused glance. “Enlightening idiots and helping them understand the error of their ways doesn’t require much effort on my part. I’m just glad Gremlin shot me a flash message, alerting me that something was going down.”

So was she, very glad!

They were in the middle of another dance when Anne noticed her father urgently signaling her over Rys’s shoulder. She tapped Rys on the arm and nodded to where her father was standing. “I think he wants to see me.”

Rys turned smoothly on the downbeat and looked in the direction she had indicated. “I believe you are right.” So saying, he escorted her off the dance floor and to her father.

Anne couldn’t quite decipher the odd expression on her father’s face. There was a hint of amusement, irritation, and…approval? What on earth…?

“Dad?”

“Anne. I was just cornered by a thoroughly shaken Kyle Williamson.”

Uh-oh…this did not bode well. Anne nodded for him to continue, trying to conceal an anticipatory wince.

“Rys, did you really threaten to beat him if he touched Anne?”

Rys blinked twice in surprise. “Well, no, not directly. Although I can perhaps understand how he might misconstrue what I said to mean that.”

Dorian’s expression twisted, wrestling with his own impatience. “Indeed. And what, exactly, did you say?”

“I said that I obviously needed a big stick to beat the men off with,” Rys repeated earnestly, in a matter of fact tone. “I was looking straight at him when I said it. His survival instincts must be more acutely developed than I imagined.”

Her father wanted to laugh out loud at this, Anne could tell, but he managed to suppress it, with no small effort for the sake of decorum. His eyes were dancing with the guffaws he couldn’t release, but she had no doubt he was howling inside.

“I see. Well, in that case, never mind. You can’t be held responsible for someone else’s misconceptions. You two go enjoy yourselves. I,” he bared his teeth in something that might have charitably been called a smile, “will have a nice, long chat with Mr. Williamson on his appalling lack of insight with verbal content and acuity.”

Anne could feel sorry for anyone on the receiving end of her father’s well developed skills in the language arts arena, everyone but The Creep. It was time someone put his reign of terror at social events to an end. The word was bound to spread like wild fire on the dance floor. A great many young women would be breathing a sigh of relief before this ball was over.

“That is much appreciated. If you will excuse us, sir, we’ll go back to dancing.” Rys waited appropriately for the parental nod of approval before escorting Anne back to the dance floor. It was only when they were safely twirling away from her father that he let out a sinister chuckle. “I think you needn’t worry about The Creep anymore, Anne. His fascination with tormenting the Dorian women is officially dead and buried.”

“After you, Gremlin and my father have raked him over the coals? I should hope so,” she responded with a mirror image of his evil smile. “Well, with him safely occupied, we should be able to enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“I could not agree more,” he replied with a soft smile, tightening his embrace to his best advantage.

***

Rys was about to ask Anne if she wanted to sit out a dance and rest her feet when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a very familiar figure. Turning, he took a better look, making sure his first impression was not in error. “I don’t believe it,” he breathed in delight, as his brain confirmed what his eyes had reported.

Anne craned her neck in the same direction, but couldn’t figure out what he was looking at that could elicit such a jubilant reaction. “What?” she encouraged, hoping for a hint.