“Names?”
“Altav E’Cort,” he said promptly, a name he hadn’t spoken aloud in decades. “But that might be too obviously Lathar. How about Altav… Wolven?”
T’Raal sniggered. “Wolf Wolven?”
Skinny flicked him the bird without looking away from Ma Allen. She shrugged and began to type. “Altav Wolven it is. How about you, handsome?”
“T’Raal,” he said bluntly.
She lifted an eyebrow. “No surname?”
He shook his head. “None I want to admit to.”
Skinny held his silence. All the Warborne crew knew T’Raal had a past, but so far they hadn’t been able to uncover any details. So T’Raal’s words gave a tantalizing clue. Latharian family names indicated where in society they stood, shown by the indicator at the front. Even without that, it was easy to see T’Raal was from an imperial family. There was just something about the way he held himself.
“Hmm…” Ma Allen pursed her lips, tapping them with her fingertips. “How about… Vane? Raal Vane?”
T’Raal inclined his head. “I like it. Raal Vane it is”
9
“Oh my god, where did you get it?” Marika breathed, her hands over her mouth in utter shock as she looked at the wedding dress hung up on the back of the door. A simple sheath of white lace, it had delicate straps and a small train. She’d been married three times before, but none of her gowns had the simple elegance of this one.
Three times a bride, never a wife… the thought hit her, and she smiled slightly in amusement. Make that four times. Altav was marrying her under false pretenses, so this wedding wouldn’t be real either. Not really.
Red, the big scary mechanic, shrugged. “Picked it up at a market a while back. Dunno why. It’s not really my style and it’s too short. It was just too pretty to leave there with all the tat.”
Something in the other woman’s tone caught Marika’s attention. She turned her head slightly to look at the taller woman.
Red was utterly beautiful, even with her modifications. Especially with her modifications.
Her eyes were slit-pupiled like most of the Warborne crew and she seemed to have a fork in her tongue that added a slight hiss to some of her words. Her tattoos were even more distinctive. Somehow layered under her skin they looked like intricate scales and only showed occasionally.
“It’s a wedding dress,” Marika mused softly.
Had Red been thinking of getting married? She must have if she’d bought this. “It doesn’t belong with tat. Are you sure you want me to have this? It’s gorgeous and you could easily get it altered to fit you.”
The corners of Red’s lips quirked up in a lopsided smile. “I don’t think getting married is for me, somehow. Tie myself to just one guy? Pffft, I’d wear him out.”
Marika chuckled softly. “When you put it like that…”
The trouble was, she’d be quite happy with one. If that one was Altav. A shiver stole down her spine as she looked at the dress again. The stylist had been and gone, her hair and makeup perfect. All that remained was to get dressed and head down to the ceremony room of the hotel.
“It’s yours,” Red smiled. “Need help getting into it?”
“Please,” she nodded, surprised but pleased by the offer.
The other women in the Warborne group were nice, but she hadn’t had time to really talk to any of them. Out of necessity, things had moved too fast for any deep and meaningful conversations. She had to be married as soon as possible so they could start proceedings to get control of her part of the family business. Control meant power.
Of course, it would put her in more danger, but that was the advantage of “marrying” a mercenary. Altav could handle anything her father’s heavies could pull; of that she had no doubt. As tough as they were, at least half of them would run a mile if they were faced with the big mercenary.
She hadn’t seen Altav much in the last day or so while they were setting this all up. First had been some trip to get the right IDs as the Sprite headed to the smallest planet they could find on the edge of Tolorian space for the ceremony.
She nibbled her lip before she remembered the stern words of the stylist and fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist instead. Altav would be here already. They were meeting up with the shuttle team here for the wedding. The ceremonial room downstairs was all prepped and the officiant would be arriving soon. All that remained was for her to finish dressing and go downstairs with Red.
She bit her lip as Red helped her into the dress and zipped the back up. Finally, she looked at herself and bit back a small gasp. The dress fit her perfectly, its simple, clean lines showing off her figure and making her feel like the bride she never had been before.
Red smiled as she handed Marika a small bouquet of roses. “You’ll knock his socks off.”
“It’s just make-believe, though. It’s not for real. Is it?” she replied, hiding her disappointment. A small part of her wanted it to be for real and wanted to claim the big, sexy mercenary for herself. She hadn’t seen him since the other day, when he’d told her that her pleasure was all his. She hadn’t touched herself since, wanting to wait for him to… Would he consider this a real marriage? Would he want to keep her after this was all over, or was she just an easy lay for him? “It’s just for protection.”
Red didn’t reply. She just smiled as she opened the door for Marika, closing it behind them as the two women made their way down the stairs toward the ceremonial room at the back of the hotel.
Marika’s heart pounded in her ears, which was a nice accompaniment to the butterflies currently residing in her stomach. Not. All she needed was a little light-headedness, and she’d have a bridal hat trick. She’d never been this nervous before and it was all for a fake wedding. Ridiculous.
The bridal march sounded, and she smiled tightly at Red, who was accompanying her up the aisle. “Let’s get this done. Shall we?”
Turning, she walked into the hall, her breath catching as all eyes turned toward her. The entire Warborne crew were in their Sunday best, standing and waiting for her, but her gaze instantly went to the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her groom. Marika blinked as he turned. Instead of the gruff-looking, sexy bearded behemoth she was used to, there stood a clean-shaven, utterly gorgeous guy waiting for her.
And he looked just as stunned as she did.
“Scrubs up good. Don’t he?” Red leaned in to whisper with a chuckle. “What were you saying about just make-believe, hmmm? Does that reaction look like make-believe to you?”
His little mouse made a stunning bride.
Skinny’s jaw dropped when he turned around at the sound of the entrance music and saw Marika walking toward him. In truth, he hadn’t thought much about human wedding customs, letting Sparky and Tank guide him on what was appropriate.
At least, he’d mostly listened to Tank. The human woman was far less likely than Sparky to lead him astray or into making a fool of himself. Which was why he was now clean shaven and stuffed into a Terran suit that felt three sizes too small. It was the biggest they’d been able to find and reminded him just how much smaller humans were.