His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, obviously trying to work out what her game was.
Anton Ingrassia had always been a handsome man, and age hadn’t dimmed that one iota. Instead, the sprinkling of grey in his hair and beard had only added a distinguished air, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes made it appear like he laughed a lot. When she’d been a child, her papa’s cherished little doll, she’d thought her father was the most handsome man in the galaxy. She’d wanted nothing more than to please him.
Now she realized appearances could be deceptive, and if Anton Ingrassia ever truly smiled, it was when someone was being executed in front of him on his orders.
“I returned ahead of schedule,” he replied, playing the game for the benefit of their audience. The hard glint in his eyes told her he wasn’t happy about it, or her newfound confidence.
“I understand congratulations are in order.”
Ah. He’d heard then.
She smiled and inclined her head, not even having to try to bring a blush to her cheeks. It happened naturally at the thought of her handsome, Edanian husband. “Thank you.”
“Of course, I was a little disappointed not to walk you down the aisle…”
She hid her smile at the censure in his voice. He wasn’t in control and he didn’t like it. That much was obvious.
“Well, I figured you were bored with it by now… what with having walked me down it three times before,” she said lightly, her champagne glass held carelessly in one hand as she nonchalantly took a sip from it. She made sure to keep her shoulders back and her chin high to prove to her father he couldn’t intimidate her. Not anymore. She was way past that now.
“And then I met Altav… it was love at first sight. We just couldn’t wait to be married. I’m sure you understand…”
Funnily enough, the more she faked a breezy confidence, as though this was nothing more than a conversation between a loving father and his daughter, the easier it became. Her breathing eased and a lightness centered in the middle of her chest.
“Of course,” he said breezily, dismissing any issues with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
No doubt he was as aware as she was that they were being watched by everyone in the room. Everyone would want to know how the brutal crime lord would react to his mouse-like daughter suddenly stepping out of his shadows married to a competitor for his crown.
“Is someone taking my name in vain?” Altav’s deep voice sounded behind her, his hand contacting the small of her back at the same moment, and she was forced to lock her legs so she didn’t collapse in a puddle of relief at his feet.
“Husband,” she murmured, a smile on her lips as she tilted her face up so he could kiss her cheek. She knew without looking that the expression on her face was as smug as the cat that got the cream because that was exactly how she felt.
“Wife…” From the note in his deep voice, she knew he’d already spotted her father, probably before he’d even approached. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Yes… yes, of course,” she said, handing her now empty glass off to a waiter. The buzz from the alcohol made her smile and mean it. “Altav, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Anton Ingrassia. Father, this is my husband, Altav Wolven.”
“A pleasure to meet you, sir.” Altav reached out a hand, and Anton flicked a glance at it.
“Wolven? What kind of name is that?” he asked bluntly.
“Edanian,” she said,
“A dangerous one,” Altav rumbled at the same time.
Her father locked gazes with the big mercenary and she felt sweat pool in the hollow of her spine as the tension ratcheted up between the two men. Only Altav’s big hand in the middle of her back kept her upright, his thumb stroking the skin under her shoulder blade in reassurance.
“You didn’t ask permission to marry my daughter either.”
Oh hell, Marika spotted the rest of the Warborne moving into position around them, their hard expressions saying they were ready in case the shit hit the fan. At the same time, she saw Dav and Lenar stiffen as they too registered Altav’s men. She just hoped they didn’t come to blows right here in the middle of the ball.
Altav grinned as he pulled her closer. “No. When I want something, I don’t ask. I take.”
12
Seeing her father again had rattled Marika. No one would have known about it but him, though. His hand on her back, he easily picked up the tension running through her slender frame, even though her outward appearance was the picture of grace and confidence.
Her father obviously couldn’t, watching his daughter with a combination of surprise and hastily concealed flashes of anger that was of almost comedic proportions. He hid his grin. He wasn’t sure whether to commiserate with the guy or congratulate him on bringing up such a strong daughter. He didn’t think Ingrassia would appreciate that, though. Nor did he seem to appreciate Skinny stealing her out from under his nose. Anger rolled through him at that thought. No, that was because this asshole saw Marika as little more than another asset to sell. To someone who would abuse and hurt her. A circumspect glance around as Ingrassia was looking at his daughter said the asshole was alone apart from his bodyguards. Skinny recognized them. The two heavies had been with Marika at the market on Praxis-Four. Not much use as bodyguards in his opinion. They’d let her slip through their fingers, and she wasn’t the most combat-capable woman out there.
Yeah, but she managed to clock you over the back of the head and put you down, the little voice in the back of his head reminded him. It had only been for a half second, but at his level, that was an unforgivable lapse.
He caught Red’s gaze for a moment. She and T’Raal had those two marked. They wouldn’t be any problem.
He transferred his attention back to Ingrassia. Tall and broad-shouldered, he obviously kept himself in shape, but Skinny wasn’t under any illusion it was because he enjoyed any particular regime or discipline. No, he’d lay odds that it was more for the intimidation factor.
“Indeed. What quaint customs you Edanians have. Here it is customary to request permission from the bride’s father before marrying her,” he commented dryly. “Anyway, enjoy the rest of your evening.”
With a short, formal half bow, he whirled on his heel and left them standing in the middle of the crowded floor. Instantly, the partygoers around them started talking louder as though to prove they really hadn’t been listening in.
Marika sagged against him slightly.
“That went better than I’d thought,” she murmured as he turned her against him, brushing his lips against her temple as he motioned to one of the waiters for another glass of champagne. He’d had one earlier. It was nowhere near enough to affect him, with his larger body mass and more efficient elimination systems, but it would relax his little mouse.
“It did,” he smiled as she shot him a grateful little look, leaning against him as though she was relying on his strength. He liked that. Liked her relying on him. And the way she looked at him, as though he could solve all the problems in the universe for her, made the male animal within beat its chest in triumph. He might not be the most handsome male in the galaxy—he was too big, too muscled—or the most intelligent… even with his enhancements and education, he still couldn’t hold a candle to Beauty or even that human, Eric… the doctor.