Sheala (7 page)

Smiling provocatively, Sheala glanced at the two men from under her lashes. “Well, Coz, what do you think?”

“Shea, if you weren’t my cousin, I’d carry you to the nearest bed right now,” Ban said in a very serious tone as he walked completely around her and examined her with a critical eye. “You’re very beautiful, Coz. Men will ache to possess you. What do you think, Marljas?”

“It’s a very nice dress,” he managed to stammer, “but a Gattan maiden would not wear something so revealing.”

Sheala snorted. There he went with that Gattan maiden nonsense again. “Well, I’m not a Gattan maiden, am I?” she quipped.

“Here, Sheala,” Verna said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Since you’re all dressed, you may as well add perfume. You’re an expert, Ban. What do you suggest?”

“Vedsissian musk, if you have it.”

“There’s some on my dresser,” Brianna said.

Verna returned with an intricately carved bottle. Removing its stopper, she liberally applied the perfume to Sheala’s wrists. Then she slowly drew the stopper down the deep valley between her breasts.

Marljas coughed, stammered something about Denieen, and fled the room.

“Don’t forget that Jamiros wants to see us in the library in about an hour,” Ban called out with a grin.

Char entered the room with a quizzical look on his face. “What’s wrong with Marljas?” he asked. “He just passed me looking as if the ghosts of all seven hell were pursuing him.”

Ban continued to grin and winked at Verna before he answered. “He forgot about something Deni wanted him to do.”

Before Char could say anything else, Brianna said, “Don’t just stand there, Char, tell your sister how beautiful she is.”

Char turned his attention to Sheala. His eyes widened as he stared at her. “Is that really you, Shea?

What did you do to your hair?” Then, with a grin, he lifted her into a huge hug. “You’re absolutely beautiful. You’re bound to receive offers tonight. Is there anyone you’re interested in? Some of our business associates have unmarried sons.”

“Leave her alone, Char,” Brianna scolded with a smile. “Shea is going to have a good time tonight, and that’s all that matters. There are other things in life beside possible business connections.”

Sheala grinned as her brother winked at his wife. “There are a number of others things I find far more interesting than business, as you well know, love. Shall I start with your lovely breasts?”

Brianna blushed a fiery red. “Char!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Sheala said, “Come on, Vani, Jami. Let’s go. You two still have to get dressed.”

“Only if Verna comes,” Vani said. “I want my hair cut like yours.”

That remark silenced everyone.

“But Vani, you’re a Medirian princess!” exclaimed her sister. “We never cut our hair.”

Borrowing a comment from Brianna, Vani answered, “What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? I like that hairstyle, and I want it. I don’t care what anyone says.”

Verna shrugged. “I’ll cut your hair, Princess. I’m too old to worry about your parents’ possible anger.”

With those words, Verna led the three girls from the room, Jami arguing vociferously with her sister.

Fingers laced together, Marljas rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. For the last few days—and nights—he’d replayed his sexual encounter with Sheala over and over. If he’d done the same with a Gattan maiden, every male member of her family would want to gut him, along with many of the men in his own family. But this wasn’t Gattan. Sheala wasn’t Gattan—as she had so plainly demonstrated.

Straightening, he wiped his face with his hands. He’d never met a woman like her. Young as he was, he’d been captain of his own ship for the last three years. He’d been to many spaceports on all five known planets. Therefore, he had far more sexual experience that almost all other unmated male Gattans his age. But no woman had ever satisfied him the way Sheala had, and he hadn’t even experienced true intercourse with her! She was intelligent and had a wonderful sense of humor which, in his opinion, was just as important as sexual desire. She was a woman a man could talk to and share his dreams with. And she had blooded him.

He wanted her. He would have her, no matter what anyone said. She was his.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. But what if she didn’t want to mate him—mate in the sense it meant to truly mate with each other? She wanted sex, he had no doubt about that. But did she really understand what mating meant to a Gattan? Was it just casual sex to her? Drakians had many sexual partners before they mated or “married”, as they called it.

Marljas shifted. More than a few Drakians had numerous sexual partners even after they married.

Would Sheala be like that?

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Sheala lying with another man! Anger surged. No man of any species would touch her. She was his!

Marljas didn’t realize he’d snarled out loud until his brother sighed.

He glanced at Wendjas.

Wearing a resigned look on his face, his brother stared back. “As soon as I heard Sheala nicked your neck with that damned sword, I knew this would happen. You’ve become infatuated. You’re still young, Brother, and impetuous. Take heed what happened last time you became obsessed with a woman.”

Marljas’ growl rumbled around the room. “Sosha was different.”

“How so? You saw a beautiful woman. You wanted her. You thought you were in love. Where is the difference?”

“I was younger then.”

“Oh? You’re so old now?”

Snarling, Marljas leaped to his feet and paced back and forth, clasping and unclasping his fists. “You challenged and practically killed Chardadon over Denieen. Tell me, were you thinking rationally at the time?”

Wendjas started to reply, but his wife interrupted him as she entered the room. “Marljas is right, my love. You weren’t thinking very rationally when you challenged Char. If you had been, you would have known he held no interest for me. And you know why.”

Stopping his pacing, Marljas looked from Denieen to his brother and back again. Then began to grin.

“So my straitlaced, by-the-rules brother dallied where he shouldn’t have before he was properly mated.”

Stiffening, Wendjas glared at his wife. “This is an unsuitable topic to discuss in mixed company, Wife.

We’ve been among these morally loose Drakians too long. As soon as…”

Wendjas’ voice trailed off as he stared at his wife.

Marljas looked back at Denieen and blinked.

Instead of wearing traditional Gattan clothing, she was dressed in a Drakian evening gown and, though it was much more modest than Sheala’s, it was still the most provocative garment he’d ever seen her wear.

“Wife of my brother, you are beautiful.”

Denieen wore a vibrant scarlet gown of soft, silken material that fell lightly from her shoulders and hugged her breasts. The gown’s neck was modestly cut, with only a hint of cleavage and the soft swell of her upper breasts revealed. Belted snugly beneath her breasts with golden ribbons, the gown’s skirt fell in soft folds to the floor. Her graceful upper arms were bare, revealing to all that she too wore Gattan scars, though not nearly as many as her husband. Her abundant hair had been piled on top of her head and was held in place with three strategically placed hairpins that glittered with red diamonds. More of the jewels graced the golden necklace, earrings and bracelets she wore.

Marljas shook his head. Denieen had been spending a great deal of time with Brianna, and her choice of apparel underscored that fact.

Wendjas opened his mouth to speak, choked, cleared his throat, and growled, “Deni, what are you wearing?”

She twirled and the gown’s skirt billowed provocatively about her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Jenneta thought I should have the cleavage slit down to my navel, but I managed to talk her out of that.”

“Wife!” Wendjas roared. “You can
not
wear such a dress. It is fit only for the bedroom!”

“Wait until you see what Sheala’s wearing,” Marljas muttered to himself.

Denieen stopped twirling and drew herself to her full height. Crossing her arms, she said, “Do you question my morals, Husband?”

Marljas stepped back. A Gattan with an angry wife was not envied by anyone.

Swallowing, his brother held up his hands and shook his head. “Deni, I implied nothing like that. But none of our women have ever worn a dress like that—in public.”

“It’s about time one of us did,” she answered with great dignity. “I ask you, Husband, does this dress reveal more of me than my training clothing, than my bathing costume?”

“No, but…”

Smiling, Deni walked to her husband and put her hand on his arm. “It’s not a traditional Gattan dress, is it? But is that so terrible? We came here because our family decided that the old ways were not the best, that if we truly wanted to compete on a galactic scale, Gattan would have to change. This is a small change, Wendjas. One, I might add, that many Gattan women will enjoy, and you men will come to appreciate.” Leaning closer, Deni whispered, “Wait until you see what I have to wear after the party, my love.”

Marljas grinned at his brother. “What was it you argued about with Father? ‘We cannot stay tied to past traditions which have little use in the future’?”

His brother shot him a disgruntled look but said nothing, obviously not stupid enough to argue against his own words.

Denieen patted his hand. “Go change. Marljas needs a woman’s counsel. I’ve laid your ‘traditional’

clothing on the bed.”

Mumbling something under his breath about wives in general, Wendjas disappeared into their bedroom.

Marljas’ grin faded as Deni’s thoughtful gaze locked with his. “Well?”

He glanced uneasily at his feet. “I don’t know how to start.”

“Let’s start with the fact that Sheala blooded you.”

Marljas looked up and nodded.

“Men!” Denieen muttered. “Why are you confused? Is Sheala a Gattan to realize what that cut meant?

Do you expect her to understand the consequences of her actions?”

He shook his head. “No, she didn’t realize the seriousness of what she did.”

“Why, then, is this a problem?”

Marljas locked gazes with his sister-in-law once again. “I want her.”

“Then take her, if she agrees.”

Marljas’ mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut. “But—she’s a maiden, the daughter of our hostess.

She cannot be treated in such a manner!”

Denieen sighed and rolled her eyes. “We have both just agreed that Sheala is not Gattan. She doesn’t know our customs, and her own upbringing will make some of them seem ludicrous to her. Tonight she is acknowledged as a full woman in Drakian society, a society with much looser moral standards than ours.

She is expected to take lovers.”

A low growl rumbled in Marljas’ chest. “I will not share her.”

Denieen’s eyebrows rose. “I have spoken a great deal with Sheala, Marljas. She doesn’t impress me as the type of girl who will jump from the bed of one man immediately to that of another.”

The growl deepened. “I don’t want her in another man’s bed—ever. I want to mate her.”

Cupping his face in her hands, Denieen smiled gently. “Sheala is her own woman, Marljas. She’ll make her own decisions. You’ve only known her a few weeks.”

Marljas’ shoulders slumped. “I don’t understand, Deni. She’s not even Gattan, yet something about her calls to me. I didn’t feel this way with Sosha. I lusted after her body, but that was all. I want Sheala in my bed, but I also like talking with her.”

Deni grinned. “When you’re not arguing.”

“Sheala does not understand Gattan values!”

“Maybe because they seem backward and unnecessary to her,” she answered as she stepped back away from him. “Think. What exactly is it about Sheala that you truly want? Here on Drakan, you have the opportunity to discover that without being constrained by our society. Here you can bed Sheala without fearing the ramifications that would ensue if you were discovered on Gattan. If it is only her exoticness and sex that you want, you won’t be long in discovering this.”

“What if it is more?”

“That we will deal with if it arises. For now, take your place among the Drakian clan with which you have established a bloodbond. Learn their ways and adopt any which seem relevant.”

“Including that of bedding willing women.”

“Including that, Marljas. There is one thing you must take into consideration, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Sheala may not want you. Now go on. The Alalakans wish to speak to you in the library.”

Fists clenched, Marljas strode from the room. Deni was wrong; Sheala wanted him as much as he wanted her. He just wished he knew for how long.

* * * * *

“My friends,” Jamiros began, “welcome to my home on this Solstice evening. It is a time of momentous changes in the Alalakan clan, changes I will share with you tonight.”

Listening to her father’s voice but tuning out his words, Sheala searched the crowd for her friends.

Eventually, she spotted Vani and Jami standing close to the end of the stage amongst many of her other friends.

Her grandmother grabbed her and tugged her forward. “Pay attention, Sheala. It’s your turn now.”

When they reached her father, Jamiros pulled her into a tight hug then turned her to face the crowd. “I have saved the most important reason for tonight’s celebration for last. My friends, today my daughter Sheala takes her place as an adult in our society. I ask that you celebrate this special occasion in her life with us.”

Laughing, Sheala waved to her friends as the crowd burst into loud applause. Tonight was her night, and she planned to enjoy every minute of it.

Before she realized what was happening, Ban appeared at her side and swept her into his arms. Planting a huge kiss on her cheek, he took the few short steps to the edge of the stage and tossed her into the shadows to the side of the stage.

Shrieking, her dress billowing around her as her arms and legs windmilled, Sheala fell through the air.