Free Sheala by Judy Mays

crowd—but not without craning her neck to search for the dark form hidden in the shadows.
    Marljas had watched Jamiros’ introductions from the shadows at the side of the stage. Those guests who noticed him stayed well away, none of them comfortable in the presence of a Gattan with his claws extended.
    A teasing scent reached his nostrils, and he tensed as Jamiros hugged his daughter and turned her to face the crowd. He scowled at the thought of other men seeing how revealing her dress was. Her nipples pushed against the soft blue material and, when the breeze flattened her dress against her hips, the small tuft of springy hair at the juncture of her thighs was obvious.
    Every man in the crowd who wasn’t a relative had to be lusting after her.
    From the corner of his eye, Marljas saw Ban’s signal. Bracing himself, he caught Sheala as Ban tossed her down to him, grunting at the strain it put on his almost-healed ribs. Ignoring her shriek of surprise as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he dropped her legs and quickly wrapped his other arm around her, cupping her firm buttocks and pulling her hard against him.
    Her eyes locked with his as she slowly slid down his firm body. When her feet touched the ground, he slid his hands down her arms, stroked her hip.
    “I will always catch you,” he murmured and stepped back.
    His smiled faded as Sheala was pulled away from him.
    Then his smile returned. The night had barely begun.

    * * * * *
For the first time that evening, Sheala found herself alone. Her last dance partner had been dragged away by his unhappy betrothed, and she had no idea to whom she had promised the next dance.
    “You haven’t danced with me, Sheala.”
    Slowly, she turned around to face Marljas. “You haven’t asked me.”
    “I couldn’t get near you. You’ve been surrounded by men all evening.”
    She grinned. “You didn’t try very hard then. Crowds have been parting before you all night.”
    His grin was feral. “You noticed?”
    Glad she didn’t blush like Brianna, Sheala dipped her head and changed the subject as she slipped out of her shoes. “Can we just find somewhere to sit down? My feet are, as Brianna says, killing me.”
    Marljas held out his arm. “I’d be happy to sit with you. There’s a bench there, under that Chotton bush.”
    Placing her hand on Marljas’ bare arm—he wore a sleeveless shirt that displayed the scars on his arms—Sheala walked towards the bench with him. She moved her fingers slightly, enjoying the soft feel of the hair on his arms against the pads of her fingers.
    A bird called.
    A muscle in his forearm flexed.
    She looked up and batted her eyelashes. “Will you fetch me a drink, please?”
    Marljas sighed. “Don’t practice your flirting on me, Sheala. If you’re thirsty, I’ll be happy to fetch you a drink. All you need to do is ask.”
    Sheala began to pout but then broke into her more customary grin. “I keep forgetting when to stop. I’m sorry,” she answered, rubbing her thumb against the tendons in his wrist. “I would like some punch, if you don’t mind.”
    The muscles in his arm jumped again. “Sit and rest your feet. I’ll get you a drink.”
    Smiling, Sheala sat down. “Thank you, Marljas. I’ll be right here.”
    He has a remarkable ass, she thought as she watched him walk away.
    Returning with two glasses of punch to where he had left Sheala, Marljas found himself alone. The rustle of leaves off to the left drew his attention, and he set the punch on the bench and followed the soft sounds through the shadows.
    In a matter of minutes, he found Sheala in the grasp of a young Drakian.
    “What are you doing, Histenc?” she spat as she tried to wrench her arm from the young man’s grasp.
    He jerked her forward and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Just what you want me to. You’ve been teasing me for the last year. Tonight your teasing stops.”
    She struggled against him. “You must be deranged. Go away and leave