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“Yes,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Senator.”
“Jamen. My name is Jamen.”
“Paige. I’m Paige Lester.”
He watched her until she disappeared around the corner. By then, her legs were shaking and her mouth had gone dry. What the fuck was she doing? Going out with a strange man was risky, but an alien warrior? She should have said no. But, she hadn’t. Instead, she had leapt at the opportunity to meet him again. He had dangled some invisible lure before her and she had to find out exactly what it was.
As she swiped the access card to her building, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Paige,” a voice snarled in her ear. “We should talk.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized the voice. His fingers pinched harder. “I… I—”
“Shut up, and come with me.” He dragged her away from the door toward a waiting car. She kicked her heels but it was futile. If Mayor Nillson wanted to talk, nothing would stop him.
Chapter Four
Following his encounter with Paige, Jamen researched the rituals of what dating involved—a meal, light alcohol, pleasant conversation on neutral matters, some interest in childhood and families, work, and minor compliments on appearance.
He laid the tablet on the bedside table. The research notes were part of the information file sent to him before leaving Halos. Some of it had been compiled by his brother, Galen, who was a judge and mated to a human, Zara. Galen had sentenced Zara to a whipping for disruptive behavior during a student exchange visit, but then he’d changed his mind and taken her to his house to complete a different punishment. Her chosen ordeal had brought the couple together and now they were paired for life. Something that Jamen would never have believed of his brother two years ago when Galen left Halos to begin work as a high judge in New Ayres Rock. Remarkably, Galen wasn’t the only Vendu to have found love with a human. The First Couple, Marcos and Freya, had begun their passionate affair on a prison colony. Freya had written the introduction to human courtship techniques.
Vendu males also courted and initiated the process. Females generally did not approach a male, unless prompted by another male. A man would choose a female, usually as and when a suitable one became available, then after introductions, which included a list of sexual preferences, and if she agreed since she was entitled to refuse, he fucked her. Then he might decide to meet again for further bonding. If they really connected, they would breed, assuming the couple was fertile; if not, they moved on to another pairing. If they lived together, it was purely for convenience.
Humans were more cautious. They took time—weeks and weeks, it seemed, according to Freya’s lengthy notes. He had only had a little over two weeks.
Rising from the bed where he’d reclined, he selected a suit from the wardrobe. Before he left his home planet, he’d commissioned a range of suits that fitted with Earth’s fashions: a jacket with lapels, shirt with buttons instead of magnetic seams that melded together, and loose-fitting pants, unlike his molded ones. And in the place of regulatory black, he’d chosen dark grays and blues. The Vendu preferred uniforms or authentic clan clothes that dated back to ancient times when they fought with swords and spears.
He brushed down his sleeves and combed his thick locks of black hair off his forehead. Satisfied his appearance was optimized, he left his penthouse suite and took the express elevator to the ground floor and the dining room.
She was waiting by the door, shuffling nervously on her high heels. He paused to admire the delightful creature: stockings, tight-fitting dress without sleeves, and a skirt that hovered above her knees. She’d shapely calves, he noted. He already knew she had a shapely ass.
When he moved toward her, she jerked slightly, as if caught off guard. She raked a lock of hair out of her eyes with a noticeably trembling hand—a nervous habit he’d watched her perform a few times in their brief encounter outside the university. He rather liked it.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello. Your dress is very… appropriate.” The greeting ritual was brief. He remembered she wasn’t required to kneel or bow her head. Neither should she address him as sir. He already expected her to use his given name and not his title. Those things he decided were acceptable, as long as she remained courteous.
She straightened her skirt. “Thank you.”
He held the door open and she walked into the restaurant with a degree of grace. High heels were not a problem, which meant she was used to dressing up.
The chief operative in the restaurant, a man named Gustave, pointed them to a secluded corner far away from other diners. Jamen and Gustave had come to an arrangement. Because Jamen was unfamiliar with native food, he had asked Gustave to serve him different dishes each night, then he was saved the awkwardness of not understanding the menu. Jamen had used this technique througho
ut his time on Earth and it had worked well.
Gustave positioned the chair behind Paige and shook out a napkin over her lap before handing her the menu.
“Thank you,” she said.
Jamen sat opposite. Her politeness toward those who served them was also noted. He believed servants should be respected. The Vendu relied heavily on the serving classes. When they conquered a world, they typically used the captured population as slaves, and the best trained and most reliable were offered prestigious roles on Halos. However, Jamen had no plans to turn Paige into a servant. He doubted she would accept such a lowly position.
She thumbed through the menu, her eyes darting about the pages. Her skin was pale, perhaps a little too pale and her hands still shook. For somebody who was accustomed to being spanked in front of people, she was surprisingly anxious.
“You pick,” she said suddenly, slamming the leaves shut.
“Not hungry?” He frowned. Was she ill?
“No, I mean, yes. Just, this is not where I typically eat. I’m living on a shoestring. I have to eat out of cartons.” She glanced around the vast salon. Only a handful of other people were eating in the hotel. It was a quiet night.
He wasn’t sure what a shoestring had to do with food. He guessed she was poor. Students on Halos were accustomed to frugal living, too, although it was supposed to do with building character rather than a lack of money. All young people had to learn the basics of survival because nobody knew where they might be sent in the Empire and some conquered planets were more inhospitable than others.
