Shaye jumped over fallen chairs and skirted around overturned tables, slipping and sliding along a river of red punch. Someone else snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her against a stone wall of a chest.
His scent wasn’t quite as exotic as Valerian’s. Even his skin felt different, cooler, smoother. While his arms had a thick veil of dark hair, Valerian’s possessed only a dusting of honey-blond.
She slammed the back of her head into his chin, her entire body vibrating with the force of the blow.
He growled a word she’d never heard, no doubt a curse. His arms fell away from her; she whirled on him, ready to fight to the death. His!
She never should have come here. Nothing good ever happened at her mom’s weddings.
The he-man regarded her through narrowed blue eyes. “I only meant to kiss you,” he said, in English this time, his voice so heavily accented she had trouble deciphering the words.
When her frantic mind deduced his meaning, she slapped him.
“Ow!” He rubbed his cheek.
“Kissing a woman without permission is not okay,” she shouted.
He...pouted?
Shaye leaped around him and closed in on her mom. “Let’s go! We have to get out of here.” Before Valerian noticed.
Tamara continued fighting her husband. “If you don’t release me, I’ll stab you while you’re sleeping!”
Lines of strain bracketed the groom’s too-thin lips while concern and fear gleamed in his eyes. “What should I do?” he asked, looking to Shaye.
Urgency beat her with brass knuckles. “Just throw her over your shoulder fireman-style and run. I’ll—”
“Be staying with me,” she heard behind her.
The familiar, husky voice made her shiver. Made her muscles clench, desperate for sublime satisfaction.
He slid a hand around her bare stomach; his fingers were long and thick, tanned and hard against her pale softness. Goose bumps broke out all over her body. His other hand glided across her collarbone to stop beneath her seashell-covered breast. He tugged her backward, locking her against a muscled chest.
She melted into him. No, no. She forced herself to stiffen. He smelled like dark magic. Sultry. Heady. Powerful.
She should protest. At the very least, she should scold him for such daring.
The words refused to leave her mouth.
Whatever madness had overcome the other women, well, it had obviously affected her, too.
Valerian’s warm breath stroked the hollow of her ear, shooting dangerous sparks of pleasure across her nerve endings. “My nose still hurts. As does my co—manhood. Kiss me and make me better?”
A strange weakness invaded her limbs. “No, thank you?”
A question? Really?
She’d always thought herself immune to lust. None of the men she’d dated had ever made it past first base. Kisses goodbye had been more of an obligation than a desire.
Cold fish, one man had even lobbed at her.
She’d had to agree with him. Cold equaled safe.
But she wasn’t cold right now. She burned.
She burned because of a stranger intent on kidnapping her!
He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I was born to please you, moonbeam. You are my paradise, and I will be yours. Imagine it. You’re naked. I’m naked. We grind together, reaching heights we never before thought possible.”
A moan bubbled up, but she swallowed it back. He’d launched a full assault on her senses. Touch, sound, scent, sight...each giving her a taste of the delights she could find in his arms.
His soft lips brushed the shell of her ear; his tongue darted inside, only to retreat and leave her shaking, hungry for more. “Let me take you to my home. Let me give you untold pleasure.”
Fight this! Fight him! “I—no, thank you.” A statement this time.
“Shall we bargain, then? My kingdom for your heart.”
He expected her to hand over rights to her heart after meeting him only five minutes ago? No way. Just no way. Fight!
“You don’t want me or my black heart. Trust me. But I will give you trouble, and a lot of it. I’m mean and cranky, and most people can’t stand to be around me.”
“I want everything you have to give. In return, I’ll give you everything right back.”
Tamara ripped free of Conner’s clasp to curl around Valerian’s ankles and kiss his feet. “Take my heart! It’s yours!”
Valerian didn’t seem to notice he had a woman slobbering on his boots.
“Get up, Mom,” Shaye demanded. Seeing her newly wed mother humble herself in such a way snapped her out of whatever spell Valerian had cast. “Run. Escape!”
“She is your mother? Fear not. No harm will come to her and her husband, I swear it.” Without releasing Shaye, Valerian gently lifted Tamara to her feet and urged her toward Conner.
“Only if I cooperate with you, right?” Shaye asked with bite.
“No. No harm will come to the pair regardless of your actions.”
A lie, surely.
“What’s your name?” he asked her, having to speak over Tamara’s pleas.
Mutinous, Shaye pressed her lips in a thin line. Defy him at every turn. Ignore the heady, seductive tingle in my veins. Maybe then he would tire of her.
“You surprise me,” he said, his honeyed timbre rich with confusion. “I expected my mate—”
A string of foreign words suddenly cut him off.
His mate?
Stiffening, Valerian faced the speaker. Shaye did the same. The man had black hair and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. Like the others, he wore only pants and boots, his bronzed chest on display. He said something else.
Valerian responded in the same, clipped language.
What were they saying to each other?
The dark-haired man motioned to Shaye with a tilt of his chin.
Whatever Valerian’s reply, it wasn’t nice. His tone hardened, becoming unbending and dripping with command.
The warrior paused only a moment, shrugged and strode away.
“What was that about?” Trying not to panic again, she angled her head
