The light of her power swamped them all, even at this distance, behind the noise of all the dancers. She was intense, brilliant, streaming luminescence. Her energy completely blotted out the physical form beneath it.
So much energy.
She was unimaginably strong. Mal had never seen anything like it. The information he’d been given barely scratched the surface of what she was.
She had spotted him, he realized, blinking through the radiance. She put down her drink and began to weave her way gracefully through the dancers to greet him as he released the sight spell.
Even as normal sight returned, Mal could still sense the power shimmering from her. She was so potent that it sizzled all the air around her; people retreated from her path without recognizing it.
Of course she is that powerful, Mal’s dragon said, his voice rich with desire. A mate of ours would be no less.
This complicated everything.
Chapter 2
Scarlet let herself enjoy the evening without reservation or regret.
The event hall was filled with light and laughter and music. Everything felt simply perfect.
The people she cared about most were all here, safe in the resort she had built to shelter them, and the future stretched out optimistically before her.
She had friends so close she considered them family, security at last... she even had a cat. Scarlet accidentally smiled fondly to think of Tyrant, and the middle-aged guest she was dancing with stumbled and went pale.
She tempered her smile and guided him back into the steps of the dance, careful not to draw him too close.
He was still glad when the music ended and Scarlet politely left him at the bar with a nod to Tex.
She mingled with the others, inquiring about their satisfaction with the accommodations, the food, the entertainment, and she was delighted by their genuine praise. Chef proved himself worth every penny, all over again, and Scarlet was pleased to coax stories of good service from several of the guests. She mentally filed stories to pass on in praise of the spa and the housekeeping.
She felt the new arrival just a moment before he arrived at the far door but took a moment to conclude her conversation with an elderly woman who was giggling with her about Breck’s attentions during meals. “Such a nice young man,” the woman said.
“He is,” Scarlet agreed with a chuckle. Finding a mate hadn’t stopped Breck from flirting outrageously, even if it meant less now than it ever had. “I’m sure he has saved a dance for you and I will send him over to collect on that in very short order,” she promised. “If you will excuse me?”
The newcomer was tall and broad-shouldered, very appropriately dressed in a fine, tailored suit with just a touch of gold embroidery at the wrist. Dragon shifter, Scarlet remembered from the guest list, which made sense given the unscheduled arrival and the extravagant clothing. Mal Moore, her memory provided.
He was also, she thought wryly, rather stunningly good looking and it did unsettling things to her belly when he smiled confidently at her approach.
Down girl, she reminded herself. He was a guest. This was just a standard business meeting.
“Mr. Moore,” she greeted with a hand extended politely. “Welcome to Shifting Sands Resort.”
He stepped forward to take her hand and they ended up standing rather closer than she had intended. He didn’t shake her hand, only held it in his strong fingers and looked down on her with an expression that might have been wonder in his warm brown eyes.
“Mal,” he said. “You can call me Mal.”
Scarlet tipped her head in acknowledgment. “Mal. My name is...”
“Scarlet. Scarlet Stanson.”
The sound of her name from his mouth sent a shiver down her back and his hand, still holding hers, was terribly distracting. “Yes,” she said, trying to regain her hand and her composure. She met handsome men all the time and managed to keep herself in control; she wasn’t sure why this one should be any different.
“May I have this dance?”
In timing that was either terrible or utterly perfect, the band had just launched into a new song and Scarlet couldn’t find—and didn’t want to find—an excuse to say no. “Certainly,” she said politely, and to her shock, he pulled her into a close dance position rather than open, one hand possessively at her waist, the other clasping hers.
She had to tip her chin up unexpectedly far to keep locked to his gaze and she was baffled that he didn’t seem the slightest bit uncomfortable meeting her eyes.
For a few phrases of music, he led her effortlessly through the steps and Scarlet had to resist the urge to close her eyes and simply float blissfully in his strong arms. Her partners were usually more cautious with her, careful and afraid. He guided her out into a flashy spin and back in again.