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NEO
T he enchanting sound of the orchestra tuning their strings filled the courtyard along with the soft evening breeze, the tantalizing scent of lotus flowers, the hum of the night creatures. Neo adjusted the collar of his shirt. He’d never grown accustomed to the finery. As a man of action, he preferred clothing that would not limit him should the night turn devastating.
Ambient sounds of the party hummed in his thoughts, and with a practiced eye he watched the guests gather in gilded masks and feathered finery, noticing every detail: quiet touches, furtive looks. Each guest was recognized; there were no intruders, at least not yet. A crowd would gather, indulging in delectable foods and dazzling drinks. It was the ideal night to slip away into the shadows. Would she take the bait?
Neo strode with surety up to the room where she was preparing and knocked on the door. “Are you ready?”
A sigh, followed by a reluctant response. “If I must be.”
His heart squeezed, and for a moment the shape of his sister flashed before him, holding a dagger and threatening what might happen should he give in to his emotions. Pushing the uneasy thought away, he let the door swing open.
Zula stood on the other side, fully transformed into a beautiful woman worthy of the kingdom. Each day he’d noticed the change in her, the rogue thief fading under the spell the palace wrought. She’d been given a simple gown made of silk, dyed peacock blue, the one color that hinted at her profession. Although it wasn’t custom-made for her, it clung to her curves, accentuating her womanly form .
Noticing his gaze, she held up a gold mask and twirled it. “I’ve never been to a masquerade. Isn’t there dancing? I can’t dance with my sprain, and I’m not sure what shoes to wear.”
“Slippers,” Neo murmured, feeling momentarily lightheaded. Curling his hands together, he pinched his wrist, forcing himself to stay in control.
“Slippers,” Zula repeated, giving him a wry smile. “Is that the fashion of the palace?”
Neo shrugged and held out his hand for her mask. “I wouldn’t know. Will you allow me?”
Zula handed him the mask and turned. “Where is yours?” she asked as he fitted it around her face and began tying it gently.
Her hair was enchanting, and he wanted to bury his face in it, take her in his arms and taste her. It took him three tries to finish tying the knot with his trembling fingers.
She turned, touching the edges of the mask that lay against her sloped cheekbones. “Who am I now?” she asked playfully .
Neo’s voice went hoarse. “Zula. I’d recognize you anywhere.”
“Will others?” Concern laced her tone, even though she attempted to sound nonchalant. She slid past him, out of the room.
Neo held out his arm. “Trust me.”
He moved slowly to accommodate her limp. While there were many fine healers in the palace, his mother had advised against treating her. She believed Zula would attempt to escape during the masquerade. Why heal her and make it any easier?
The upper and lower balconies were filled with guests, the patio given over to the dancers. Blue hues of darkness washed over the palace. Torches flared, palm trees danced, and far above them, the twinkle of white stars paid homage to the night.
Taking advantage of the moment, Neo pulled Zula close, into a dance. Not like the dancers on the patio, but with her hands resting on his arms, swaying from side to side, letting the ethereal rhythm of the remarkable evening fill them.
“Why am I here?” Zula asked .
Firelight flickered, highlighting her golden-brown skin, her bare lips full and kissable. Neo realized he was afraid of himself, afraid of what he might do with the woman of his dreams willingly in his arms.
“Because you’re my prisoner,” he teased.
She squeezed his arm. “Aside from that. I expected to be imprisoned, yet here I am being treated like a guest.”
“Perhaps you are. In all honesty, this wasn’t my idea, but I’m glad that you’re here. You look beautiful tonight, different, and by being here, I hope you get a glimpse of what life could be like on the right side of the law.”
Zula laughed, but there was a slight bitterness to it. “You’re offering me a masked life of dancing in the dark. It would become rather dull, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you not enjoy the music?”
“I do. The musicians are very skilled, but you’re avoiding my question.”
“Admittedly, I’m concerned about how you’ll react. I know a bit about you, your past, and we’re not so different. There’s one thing that compels both of us and it’s a drive to achieve. You do so by stealing and I do so by bringing people to justice. What if we joined forces? What if we worked together to experience the thrill of the chase?”
A sudden stillness came over her, and he paused, hating that he couldn’t see her eyes clearly enough to gauge her reaction.
“You’re asking me to give up who I am to become the version you want me to be? A partner? There can be no partnership with you. You’re a prince, a sheriff, everything I’m not.”
“Those are just titles, don’t you see? You’re good at hunting, at finding, at evading capture. Those are skills. Why not use them to benefit yourself and the kingdom?”
“Because I don’t work for anyone other than myself. I decide what heists I want to do, who to work with. Besides, this is all for nothing, because I need my ukulele. It’s the magic within it that makes everything possible.”
“Whether you work for thieves or for the crown, you’re still working for someone. Does it have to be on the wrong side of the law? Is it the danger you find most attractive?”
“The crown would never pay me what thieves can.”
“Then what do you want, Zula? You admitted you want a purpose, that money, wealth, treasure are hollow. What is it you’re so desperate for?”
“To live life on my own terms, to have the freedom to come and go without looking over my shoulder.”
“If that’s what you want, you’re in the wrong career. You always have to look over your shoulder because of the bounty on your head.”
Zula pulled back. “This was my last heist. At least for a while. With you and your men closing in, and that ridiculous bounty, I thought it best that I lie low for a time.”
Neo stared at her in surprise, at a loss for words.
She crossed her arms. “My share of the purse was enough to last me for a long time, but if I entertain any thought where you and I are forced to work together, there’s no rest. I’m at the beck and call of the crown, and that’s its own kind of prison, being told what to do and when to do it. So no, you and I aren’t alike, because at least I have the luxury to choose, while you’re a prince, a sheriff. You can’t choose.”
Neo stepped forward, backing her against the bamboo wall. “I have a choice,” he countered, keeping his voice low.
His heart pounded in his chest, but for once his hands were steady as he rested one on her hip. Sliding his other hand up her throat, he cupped her cheek, the tips of his fingers stroking the base of her neck, feeling the soft wisps of hair. It was like something came over him, and all his longing, his pent-up emotions spilled out of himself as he kissed her.
She tasted like a rush of sugar, sweet and enticing, addictive. Her fists tightened on his shirt; her mouth moved under his.
He was so surprised he almost broke the kiss.
She was kissing him back, furiously, deeply, her breaths short, fast. An unexpected hunger lay there, and just minutes before, they’d been arguing. It was still unresolved, but he didn’t care, couldn’t have cared if he tried. He couldn’t think of anything else, just the desire rolling through him, like a wave breaking free of a dam.