Heart of a Warrior

19

IT WAS DECIDED? "WHAT WAS DECIDED?"

Brittany was asking Dalden to explain his cryptic remark, but it was Martha who answered in derisive tones, "The big guy just joined you at the hip. He was supposed to ask your permission first, said he understood that's how it's done around here, but he arbitrarily went ahead and did it his way rather than yours."

"Did what? I still don't get it."

"Does shackled ring a bell? Ball and chain? Hooked up? No? How about married?"

Brittany started chuckling. "Get real. It takes more than a few words to perform a marriage."

"Wanna bet?"

Brittany stared at Dalden, but he wasn't laughing. He was looking back at her as if he'd just bought her and was quite pleased with the purchase price. She started to get annoyed.

She'd tried to go along with their joke and treat it as such, but it wasn't the least bit amusing when her feelings for this man were so new and fragile. She couldn't deny that the thought of being able to keep him was thrilling, but it was also unrealistic. For crying out loud, she'd just met him yesterday and still knew next to nothing about him. So for him to want to, or even think about, marrying her at this stage was so far-fetched, it was beyond imagining.

"Okay, chuckle-time is over," she said tersely, making no attempt to hide her annoyance. "Shall we get back to business, or do we go off on a honeymoon first?"

For an answer, Dalden took her hand and started to drag her out of the building. She heard Martha's alarmed voice from some distance away, since there was over six feet of stretched arms between them now.

"Stop right there, warrior. She was kidding! She didn't mean it. And you are not going to run off and have some fun now just because you gave yourself permission to do so-not when Jorran could walk in here at any moment."

Dalden stopped. He looked utterly chagrined until his gaze fell on Brittany, then he just looked inflamed. She caught her breath. Dalden in the throes of passion was an incredible turn-on. And he must have sensed that she felt so, because he closed the space between them, clasped her face in both hands, and kissed her right there in the center of City Hall.

Nothing like being taken out of mind and place. They could have been up on a cloud for all she knew, she was so consumed with him and nothing but him. But it wasn't Martha's voice that brought her jarringly back to earth this time, it was one she could have wished to never hear again.

"Into exhibitionism these days, Britt?"

It was absolutely the worst interruption Brittany could think of. Thomas Johnson, ex-boyfriend, the one guy she'd actually thought about marrying-and having sex with-because she'd mistakenly thought there was more between them than there was. They hadn't exactly parted amicably, after she'd kicked him out of her apartment that night and told him to drop dead on the way out. It was a small town and she'd known they would run into each other eventually, but she'd managed to avoid doing so up till now.

"Still breathing, Tom?" she said, hoping he'd take the hint and just leave. "What a shame."

"Aren't we bitchy these days."

She smiled tightly. "Only around you."

He chuckled, though it was forced. They both knew she wasn't kidding around, that her animosity was quite real. She'd invested three months of emotions in this guy. Then for him to admit he had a problem with her height after all that time, even though she was a good half a foot shorter than him. Not short enough for him to feel like a giant, apparently, which had to be what he was looking for.

Dressed in a well-tailored pinstriped business suit today, Thomas made her feel tacky in her blue jeans, white T-shirt, and sneakers, which she'd felt adequate for playing the tourist in City Hall. Come to think of it, though, he'd always made her feel inferior in one way or another. Blue eyes, wavy black hair, sexy, extremely handsome-at least she'd thought so until she met Dalden.

"I tried to call you a number of times," Thomas informed her, like she might actually believe it when he knew her schedule, knew exactly when he could find her at home to receive any calls.

She let that pass, though, and attacked his motive instead. "Whatever for? Wasn't I clear enough that I didn't want to see you again?"

"Because you misunderstood that remark I made about your height. I wanted to explain."

"Oh, really? So you don't really think I'm too tall for you?"

"Well, for anything permanent, yes, but not for-"

"Get lost," she cut in, feeling some of the same acute embarrassment she'd felt that night. "I swear, you should get JERK tattooed to your forehead, just in case some poor fool doesn't figure it out right off."

"Britt-"

"My woman has suggested you leave her presence. Do so now before I assist you in the doing."

Thomas stared up at Dalden for a moment. He'd only glanced briefly at him before, then dismissed him as some dim-witted jock who got unevenly divided-lots of body, little mind. And even now, Dalden didn't seem all that threatening, standing behind Brittany with his hands on her shoulders, his expression calm despite what he'd just said.

Which prompted Thomas to remark snidely to Brittany, "Where'd you find this Neanderthal?"

"You can consider yourself really fortunate that he probably doesn't have a translation for that word," Brittany guessed aloud. "He's new to our country and doesn't have a full grasp of the language yet. Should I translate for him? You think he might appreciate derision coming from a shrimp like you?"

Tom finally got the point that his physical well-being might be in danger. There was a smidgen of alarm, but it was quickly dismissed. They were in a public place, after all, and one that usually had a few policemen roaming around it. So he felt absolutely safe in the assumption that Dalden wouldn't start anything there.

Brittany was sure of that as well; she'd just hoped Tom wouldn't be and would back off. So they were both somewhat surprised when Dalden set Brittany to the side of him, then completely behind him, where she didn't have a chance of seeing what he was going to do.

What he did was pointless, though, when Martha was in interfering mode. Dalden had no sooner wrapped his large hand around the man's neck than his fingers were grasping thin air instead.

A low rumble of annoyance came out of him while Martha was saying in Sha-Ka'ani, "So the eye doctors around here are really going to make a killing this week, but better that than you splattering his blood all over this pretty white floor."

"Where did you put him?" Dalden demanded in the same language.

"Back outside. He'll think he was so scared of you, he ran really fast. And lucky for you. Starting a physical brawl in a building devoted to politicians is a sure trip to a local jail. Remember our discussion of their jails? Places to be avoided at all costs?"

Brittany had heard enough that she didn't understand. "You guys are doing it again," she complained as she moved back around Dalden to find the space in front of him empty now. "And where did Tom go?"

"Who cares?" Martha countered. "We've had too many distractions as it is, when you're both supposed to be working toward our common goal Jorran-hunting. Our friendly Centurian has volunteered that there are two more of his good buddies in there doing what he was doing, which was prepping everyone in the building for Jorran's arrival so that he's greeted by one and all with open arms. Find the other two and send them to me for new programming. Then we can get back to discussing Dalden's lack of warrior restraint in his dealings with foes and lifemates."

"Huh?"

Brittany didn't get any further explanation, which was becoming an annoying habit with these two. She almost preferred hearing the no-make-sense stuff that fell into the "classified info" realm than these cryptic remarks she thought she might understand if she could get past the disbelief stage. And this "warrior" label? Once mentioned-and Martha hadn't wanted it mentioned-it was now being mentioned much too often. Hardly indicative of a national guard type of part-time soldiers; more like a full-time career.

Well, he had the body for it, and he certainly had the reflexes. So he was a soldier, and they called themselves warriors where he came from. She could deal with that. Why did they try to fluff it off and downplay the fact that he was a military man?

Just more of the little oddities that didn't add up. And the main source of answers went off on Dalden's hip as he began covering all the offices in the building, getting to ask questions now without worry of causing alarm, because he took that rod with him. While Brittany was left with the foot-traffic crowd again and two hours remaining before City Hall closed shop for the day.

But she would get some answers, and pretty soon. She was working for them, helping them to round up this ring of thieves. Though lunatics might be a better word for people who thought they could just pop in and become an instant politician. She deserved better than double-talk, tasteless jokes, and when that failed, simply being ignored.