Page 8 of Stealing the Star Stone

Arell stepped back, her gaze fixed on them. When he reached for a pot, Nova smacked his hand. His knuckles stung, but he settled in his seat, content to wait.

Arell cackled, grabbed his hand, and massaged it. “That’s righ’. Gotta wait f’it to stew.” She patted him then waddled off.

“That’s it?” he whispered. “No mini-lecture on the origins of tea, what flavors to expect like cinnamon or blackberry—”

Nova snorted. “This isn’t a wine tasting.” She froze then hummed. “Now that’s a good idea. Tarnis has to have vineyards, right?” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “I never researched that possibility.”

“Why would you?” he asked.

“Oh, just good to have a general knowledge of our galaxy.”

He scowled. “You need to lie better.”

She huffed and poured the tea. “This one’s granadilla.” She pushed the cup and saucer toward him then cradled her cup for a deep inhale.

He did the same, admitting he liked the earthy fruity fragrance. A tentative sip coated his mouth with flavors he hadn’t anticipated. The bitterness was there, but the heat of the tea, the subtle granadilla…

“And?” she asked.

“It’s good.” And he meant it. Enthusiasm to try the next one gripped him, but when she savored another sip, he realized he couldn’t down his tea to pour from the other pot.

Instead, he swiveled in his seat and scanned the menu. Fruit teas held some appeal, their flavors mitigating the bitterness. Well, he assumed. After all, this was his first try at drinking tea. He skimmed over rose, hibiscus, lavender, butterfly pea… Lady Grey? He sliced a glance at Nova.

He caught Arell’s attention with a wave. “Milady, I’d like to order a pot of Lady Grey and mango passionfruit.”

She beamed and disappeared into the back room. When he faced forward, Nova was smirking at him over the rim of her cup.

“What?” he asked before he took a gulp of tea.

“Charmer. You just proved pretty people have an easier life.”

“And you’re not…pretty?” He arched a brow, blaming his warm cheeks on granadilla-scented steam.

“Apparently not,” she mumbled, downed her tea, then reached for the next pot. Gone was her earlier teasing. He’d hit a nerve.

She waved the pot, waiting for him to finish his tea. He hurried to do so while wracking his brain for a safe topic. Even better would be something that would bring back her smile.

This tea, though floral and sweet, was like the taste of a woman’s perfumed skin. He grimaced.

“Y’donna like?” Arell asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“I prefer the granadilla.”

She shoved aside the jasmine and fetched another cup. With a surprising grace, she poured the mango passionfruit, her fingers not once trembling until she set the pot down.

He cradled the cup and took a sip, his gaze on her. A hum slipped free.

She beamed and scampered off.

When she was out of earshot, he leaned across the table to whisper, “Where did she come from?”

What he wanted to ask was why hadn’t Nova warned him?

Why would she?

That thought stiffened his spine and made him realize he had far to go to woo this woman. And why he bothered, he couldn’t say. Perhaps because if she did like him, it wasn’t because of his fame, fortune, and sex appeal. Her affection would be genuine.

His breath seized in his lungs. If she liked him, it would be for the man he was.

“I wonder,” he started, “what this artefact looks like.” Safe enough subject and sure to spark a response from her. “Metal with engravings and glowing blue?”

She grinned. “Probably.”

“Wanna take a peek?”

“And risk getting spotted?” She eyed him, her cup in one hand as she flicked the other. “The security should be tight. You might have to charm your way in.”

“We can ask. If it’s a no, then we’ll pick apples or strawberries.”

She placed her cup onto the saucer, the fragrance of Lady Grey reaching him. “If you get swarmed by your fans, I’m leaving you. No one pays me enough to save your ass.”

He studied her, not sure if she was serious, especially after her efforts to get him off Auralis. “Ten minutes. And I’m the client. You’re supposed to be doing what I want to do. Nowhere did I sign up for fruit-picking of any sort.”

She scowled, huffed hard enough to flare her nostrils, then grumbled, “Fine. We’ll go see this silly idol.”

Seeing as he’d won that battle, he could be gracious. “I don’t want to pour another cup; may I?” He gestured to hers.

With an extended index finger, she nudged her saucer over, the tea barely rippling.

“What do you think of the décor?” he asked, cradling her cup and rotating it slowly, hoping she wouldn’t realize what he was up to. It was creepy as all hell, but he ached to place his lips where hers had been a moment ago.

She held his gaze, thwarting him. “I like it. Way better than outside, to be honest.”

He gave up and took a sip. The fragrance was floral and citrusy, promising a double whammy of flavor, and yet it was far too bitter for him.

“Not to your liking?” she asked, taking back the cup.

“If I could add honey, maybe…”

She scoffed. “Spoken like a rich man.”

He butt-hopped across the seat to rise. Time to end this. As far as he was concerned, nothing beat water.

“Didya likey?” Arell asked, her expression hopeful.

He swiped his wrist over the paypoint. “This was the best tea I ever tasted.” Which wasn’t a lie, per say.

Nova snorted into her cup as she finished her tea.

He didn’t spare her a glance, not wanting to draw Arell’s attention to her. “Do you know where the Invenire Gallery is?”

“O’course.” She snatched his hand and pulled him out of the shop. With a shaking finger, she pointed to elevator doors. “Take that t’planet. Gal’ry in welcomin’ center.”

He caught her fingers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then left the blushing woman to hurry Nova.

His attempts to charm her had been harder than he’d expected.

As much as he liked her spitting at him with anger in her eyes, every smile from her was a victory.

He wanted her swinging from fury to laughter and back.

Keep them on their toes , his aunt said.

“Are you done?” he asked, clicking his fingers at Nova.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and just like that, the spitfire was back.

He grinned. “Or do you need me to haul your ass out of here?”

She brushed past him, anger in her stride.

He winked at Arell and trailed Nova, content to watch her storm ahead.

“Hope you’re not afraid of heights?” she crooned, gesturing to the elevator doors when they opened.

“Not at—all.” The elevator pod was nothing but a glass cylinder in a tube. The view was spectacular until they shot down at a speed that should have plastered his ass to the pod’s roof.

“Sky elevator,” she sang, her beaming smile unpleasant to observe.

Tea roiled in his gut, threatening to spill. He splayed his hand on his stomach and prayed for a miracle.

“Parido Meadows,” she said, tapping the holographic map while space whizzed past at a nauseating blur. “We could find out if they’ll let us pick fruit or herbs—anything organic.” She bounced on her toes, not the slightest bit deterred by their current situation.

He bent over, his face cold, and tea-flavored bile coated the back of his tongue.

“Here.” She held out a vomit bag like that was being helpful.

He straightened to glare at her. In that moment, hatred bubbled up and burned his tongue. “You can be nicer. After all, I just paid for your tea addiction.”

She laughed. “Bowl a girl over with extravagance, Thorne.”

Peace seized his chest. There had to be something wrong with him if he’d missed her snapping his last name at him.

“Jewelry or flowers would be thrown at my face. No, there’ll be no gifts for a cranky pilot until she can behave herself.”

She huffed and threw the vomit bag at him. “Why don’t you hold your breath?” She flashed him a saccharine smile. “Please. I insist.” Folding her arms across her chest, she offered him her back as the scenery whizzed past.

He did the same, more so to hide his smile.