Stark Pleasure; the Space Magnate's Mistress (The LodeStar Series) (20 page)

Her ringing tones had exactly the effect she desired. Two more faces peeked in the door. The pretty blonde and a brunette slipped into the room, looking worriedly from her to Slidi.

“I’m sure there has been some mistake,” the blonde said. “Haassea values Mr. Stark’s business very much.”

“May we bring you some other ensembles to try?” her brunette companion added. “Of course we want you to be happy, Ms. te Nawa.”

With a venomous look, Slidi glided from the room. The brunette followed her.
 

“Again, I’m Taara,” the blonde said, smiling at Kiri.

Slidi’s voice floated back clearly from the hallway outside. “You two fetch for her then. She’s just some slummer Stark picked up for a sex weekend.”

The blonde turned back to Kiri in horror. “Oh! I’m so sorry—”

Kiri grabbed the nearest dress and clutched it in front of her like a barricade.
 

“I’d like my clothing back. And then I’ll be going.”

Taara looked as if she might cry on Kiri’s behalf. “Yes, of course. At once.”

Kiri dressed quickly and then walked past the silent store clerks with her head held high. Taara walked with her. She looked back at her fellow clerks and then clicked her comlink. The door slid shut, enclosing her and Kiri in the hushed elegance of the podway.

“I’m so sorry,” the other woman whispered, stepping close. “I could be fired for saying this, but … Haassea and Mr. Stark were once … you know—lovers.”

“I guess that explains a lot.” Like the mysterious lack of gesics in the drink Haassea had prepared
herself
.

Taara bit her lip. “Even so, Slidi’s behavior was very odd.”

“Odd? Try quarking rude,” Kiri shot back.

The blonde nodded sorrowfully. “Yes.”

Kiri had to smile. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

Taara smiled back. Then her eyes widened in mischievous glee, like a little girl. “Listen, I shouldn’t say this, either, but—”
 

The docking hatch opened, revealing Rak. He looked at Kiri and frowned. “Didn’t buy anything?”

Kiri shook her head, avoiding his gaze. She started forward, but the blonde stopped her, a hand on her arm.

 
“Wait. As I was saying, my cousin has a boutique near here. Very fun fashions. Would you like me to give your pilot directions?”

What Kiri really wanted to do was go and hide somewhere. But Rak raised his brows at her, his chin tucked in. She shrugged. “Sure. And thank you, Taara.”

“You are welcome, Ms. te Nawa. I’ll tell Daanel you are coming. He’ll be very excited to dress someone as lovely and unique as you.” She gave Kiri a coy look. “And of course if anyone asks where you got your ensembles, you might mention his shop.”

Kiri surprised herself by laughing. That was just good business, and business she understood. “I will—if I find anything I like. And call me Kiri.”

“Okay. Bye, Kiri.” Taara hurried away, and Kiri followed Rak into the ship.
 

“You wanna sit up with me again?” he asked gruffly.
 

“Sure,” she said. Anything to forget how little she fit into Stark’s world.
 

Chapter 16

While the friendly Taara looked more human than anything else, her cousin was a full-blood Serpentian. So slim he was nearly wraithlike, Daanel had golden skin, startling hair the color of the salad Natan had served her the evening before, and a sly, infectious grin. He was clad head to toe in snakeskin that made him look like one of the reptiles Kiri had seen on the travelogue the evening before. He welcomed Kiri into his boutique, which was as dark as a nightclub, with twinkling light balls floating about, reflecting from the windows and the sparkly cosmetics his assistants wore.

“Welcome, lovely one,” he said. “I am the incomparable Daanel, and I am going to dress you like an empress. A sexy one, who dashes about on her slider when she’s not slaying males with one look from her Tyger eyes.”

Looking her up and down, he growled low in his throat. Kiri burst out laughing. He was so outrageous she couldn’t take him seriously.
 

Rak, who had followed her in, shook his head. “I’ll wait out here,” he told her, pointing at a comfortable divan near the door. Kiri followed Daanel back through his shop into the dressing area. Thankfully, it was well lighted.

For the next hour, she tried on ensemble after ensemble. Daanel even measured her feet and sent two assistants for a selection of boots, flats and sexy heels, saying his clothing must have the right footwear to be appreciated.

At the end of the whirlwind session, Kiri had several new ensembles, some warm and comfy, some daring and sexy, some fun and a bit outrageous. None of them, even the sheer spider lace top and black leather vest and pants, worn with a pair of heeled black boots, made her feel like a whore. She’d meant to say no after the second or third ensemble, but somehow she found herself just trying one more, and then one more, and loving them all.
 

She guessed she could always sell some of them for credit, although the idea made her want to cry. But surely she didn’t deserve this luxury, not when she hadn’t earned any of it.
 

Not when all the extra credits she squeezed out of her shop like used coffee grounds went to finding out what happened that night outside her cubby in her childhood home.

But these were not her credits, and Stark had specifically instructed her to get new clothing. And she guessed it might as well be nice things.

“Seventh heavens,” Daanel crooned, waltzing around her as she modeled the last ensemble for him. “You are going to make me, starry one. Wait until they see you in that in the clubs. And I’ve a wrap that’s perfect for you, as well.”

He clapped his hands at one of his assistants, who grinned, obviously used to his drama. “Bring me the poppy-red halfpaca.”

The purple-haired pixie dashed away and returned with a length of blazing red, which Daanel settled gently as a cloud around Kiri’s shoulders, flipping the end back over her shoulder, and then held out his hands, sighing like an artist who has finished a masterpiece.

Kiri stroked her newly soft hands over it reverently. The bright color emphasized her eyes and hair, and it was so warm and light. “Oh, I have to have this.”

“Cosmic.” The Serpentian’s eyes gleamed fanatically. “Utterly cosmic.”

Kiri wore her new leather and lace ensemble out of the boutique, the poppy cape over one arm. She grinned sheepishly at Rak, who met her in the doorway. He raised his shaggy brows at the three laden shop assistants.

“Bought some things,” she said.

“Good.” The pilot nodded, as if she’d completed her mission satisfactorily.
 

Two Intergalactic Space Force pilots in uniform stared at her as they walked past, appreciation written on their handsome faces. A trio of women passed the other direction, eyeing her ensemble avariciously.
 

Daanel winked at her.”Don’t forget to take that look to the clubs.”

She liked him, and she liked his cousin, but she wasn’t really up for clubbing.
 

On the other hand, Stark was in New Asia watching naked women slither all over a stage and probably his lap—or he would be when he concluded his business. She could go out too. Surely it was all right for her to enjoy herself a little. Didn’t mean she wasn’t still working toward what was most important.
 

Also, showing these pretty clothes off in public might mean more business for Daanel. She seemed to be his only customer this afternoon. She knew how hard it was to gain recognition in this frenetic, crowded city.

“Know any good places?” she asked. “Maybe you and Taara could join me tonight.”

He gave her a look of exaggerated delight that made her laugh. “Do we know clubs? Darling, have you never been to Le Tigre? I’d love to show you off there.”

“My favorite.” It was the best dance club in the city and always packed. Kiri had heard it was owned by Chaz Jaguari, although she’d never seen him there. Tal hung out there when he was flush, with some lovely on his arm. Kiri wouldn’t mind him seeing her looking successful.

“Excellent. We’ll pick you up. Where?”

Kiri turned to Rak, who managed to convey his disapproval without moving a facial muscle, like the good soldier he was. “Stark quadrant, Landing One.”

Stark owned the whole quadrant? She might have known.
 

“See you,” Daanel caroled.
 

Rak led the way along the concourse to the landing pod, his posture stiff. “I’m supposed to be with you when you’re out, ma’am.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble, but I don’t want you to be up late just because I am.” She stopped inside the slider and watched as he tipped Daanel’s assistants, who hurried away looking very pleased. “Want to drop me off? They could bring me back to Stark’s place.”

“I’m paid to stay up late.” He closed the hatch with swift precision. “I will deliver you, wait for you, and bring you back to Landing One, miss.”

“Okay.” Kiri sat down in the passenger seat in the rear of the slider and then stood up and hurried after the pilot. “Can I still sit up here?”

He nodded, already powering up the sleek craft, and Kiri belted herself in. All right then. She could do this; adjust to living in the lap of luxury … just for a while.

***

Flying in to Le Tigre was like approaching a battle site in one of the action videos Kiri loved to watch. Colored lights pulsed across the low clouds hanging over the club, which was on the top of a building. Fireworks shot into the night, with the low rattle of their explosions. Vehicles jockeyed to land on the small space port pad, and far below in the streets people swarmed like bugs. Against the grim backdrop of the city, the club exuded an edgy glamour.

Rak sent a droid to park the slider and followed Kiri into the foyer. He had a disapproving scowl on his face again, but she was going to ignore that.
 

The high-ceilinged gilt and mirrored area was crowded with beings, all dressed to party, with shimmering, glittering clothing and cosmetics. It was an upscale crowd, though, even the druggers with their eerie dilated eyes looked pretty healthy.

“We’ll probably have to wait for a while,” Kiri warned Rak.

He shook his head and marched through the crowd. The guards—huge Argonautians in matching brief orange that showed off their impressive musculature—took one look at him and Kiri and gestured them into the club. She followed the stocky pilot, grinning with delight as those in line watched enviously. She was used to dawdling in the lobby, waiting for the mysterious moment when the guards decided it was her turn to enter.

Kiri caught sight of Daanel’s crest of hair, highlighted to startling chartreuse, near the doors. She beckoned. The couturier slid through the crowd, his pretty cousin behind him. Tonight he wore black snakeskin. Taara wore a tiny, clinging gold dress.

“We’re in,” Daanel crowed. “Darling, we must party together more often.”

Daanel eyed Rak, striding ahead of them in his gray flight suit. “Is he supposed to help you get men or keep them away?”
 

“Daanel!” Taara hissed.

Kiri shook her head at the irrepressible Serpentian. “Rak is a good guy. Be nice to him.”

“I’ll be at the bar,” Rak told her, ignoring Daanel, “keeping an eye out. You don’t go anywhere without me.”

Kiri saluted, but she smiled as she did so. “Okay. See you later.”

“Table,” Daanel shrieked. Kiri and Taara dove after him to a tall table. Another couple was approaching from the other direction, but Daanel slithered onto a stool first and simpered at them, tilting his head coquettishly. “Sorry. Taken.”

They glowered but turned away. “First round on me,” Daanel said. “What will you have, ladies?”

“Blue star for me,” Kiri said.

“Same,” Taara agreed.

Daanel slid away through the crowd, and Kiri looked around. This club was definitely more upscale than those around the port. The crowd was well-dressed and for the most part well-behaved. Probably due to the Argonautians patrolling the periphery, their craggy faces stern.
 

“Ooh, look.” Taara pointed up.
 

Overhead, huge holovid cats prowled through the dark air with careless, predatory grace, their sleek fur striped with orange and black. Tigers. Kiri shivered pleasurably. Must have been really something when the deadly cats roamed the wild places of this planet.

“This place is starry,” Taara said in her ear. “It’s so nice of you to invite us. So tell me about Mr. Stark. What’s he like at home?”

“Dance?” A well-dressed blond man leaned over the table toward Kiri.

She shook her head, smiling. “Just got here. Maybe later?”

“He was hot.” Taara widened her eyes at Kiri. “You should have danced. Except maybe Mr. Stark doesn’t want you dancing with other guys, hmm?”

Kiri shrugged. “I want a drink first. I don’t need a partner to dance.” Wasn’t like she’d be going home with one of them, or to some back hallway.