"Not wise. I'm not trustworthy," he cautioned, sending a wave of apprehension and curiosity over her.

Their exchange was curtailed as Mira returned, the battlesuit draped over her shoulder."Oh Nykyrian," she said in startled alarm. "I didn't know you were here."

Kiara noted Mira's obvious discomfort.

"I'll wait outside," he said, moving to the door.

Mira's frown followed him.

As soon as he was gone, Kiara drew the bed veil to one side and stepped from the bed.

Her toes curled away from the chilly floor. "You don't like him?" she asked.

Mira jumped as if she had stepped on her foot. "No," she said in a rush. "It's not that. It's just . . . He's just ... a little odd, I guess." Mira handed her the suit.

Kiara admitted there was something about him that unsettled her as well. "Who is he?"

"Nykyrian ..." Mira paused, her brows knitted. "I have forgotten his last name, very few ever use it. He has a dislike for it."

"How peculiar."

"Yes it is." Mira leaned closer and whispered, "He's a renegade League Assassin."

Kiara's heart stilled. "I didn't think the League allowed their assassins to leave."

Mira shook her head gravely. "They don't. Nykyrian's the only one to ever leave who managed to live beyond a week. I've heard it whispered he was some kind of decorated hero."

Kiara frowned. A hero? "Why did he leave?"

Mira shook her head. "No one knows for sure. He keeps to himself, almost never speaks even when spoken to." Mira sighed. "Actually, most people around here tend to avoid him because he's hybrid."

Kiara's frown deepened. "Hybrid what?"

"Half human, half Andarion."

"How odd.""Hmmm," Mira mumbled. "I'm sure you'll be fine alone with him. He's the best scout the OMG has."

Kiara digested Mira's gossip as she toyed with the sleeve of her battlesuit. "He doesn't kill anymore?"

"No, at least not to my knowledge." Mira held her hand out to Kiara. "Enough gossip.

It's been a great pleasure meeting you, Miss Biardi. I wish you success with your new show."

Smiling, Kiara took Mira's warm, velvety hand and gave a short, smart shake. "It's been an honor to meet you, Mira. Thank you for your kindness. If you ever want to come to the new show, just give me a call and I'll leave you a pass at the door."

"Thank you. I just might do that." Mira's eyes were bright with friendship as she took her leave.

Quickly, Kiara exchanged her gown for the black battlesuit. After she finished lacing the front, she opened the door and entered the corridor to meet her escort. Nykyrian pushed himself away from the far wall.

Kiara blushed as she realized how disheveled she appeared to him. She glanced down at the suit. Obviously designed for a man, it trailed to the ground and fit her like a large sack. Heaven only knew what her face looked like after the way Chenz had played Griball with it.

Her dance promoters would definitely abandon her if they ever glimpsed her in such a state. How many times had they told her she was an image and her image must always be preserved.

Well, it couldn't be helped.

Recovering her lost vanity with a shake of her head, she looked back at her escort.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice reverberating in her mind, scorching her with its rich, refined tone.

Kiara licked her lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss a dangerous assassin.

She had heard many tales about the League's most prized soldiers. They were a free lot, trained to kill political targets and jealously protected as the League's most valuablecommodity. Kiara wondered what kind of man could defy the nefarious League that protected and intimidated all governments with its military power. Even her own father, who had more courage than most, refused to disobey a League directive.

For a moment, she thought Nykyrian might answer her unconscious summons for a kiss.

Then the most incredible thing happened, he moved away.

Kiara frowned in confusion, her cheeks warming from his rejection.

Nykyrian paused a few feet away from her. "Don't just stand there," he chided. "You need to get home. Your father was very worried."

"You called him?" Kiara asked, shocked he would be so considerate.

"Rachol did," he said before continuing down the hallway.

Kiara was miffed by his easy dismissal of her. She had to struggle to keep up with his long strides which rapidly took him down the corridor to a large, landing bay.

Nykyrian led her to a black fighter in the far left corner. They passed several people, but no one spoke a greeting to Nykyrian. Kiara thought about Mira's words. No wonder the man was distant.

He released the cockpit hatch by pressing a button on the side of the craft then placed his hands around her waist to lift her up to the ladder. The heat of his strong hands through the material of her suit, thrilled her. The gentle pressure massaged her skin, and stole her breath.

Stop it, she told herself, he's not the first man to hold you. A small smile curved her lips.

No he wasn't, but he was definitely one of the most intriguing.

Finally gaining a modicum of control over her tumultuous emotions, Kiara climbed to the top. She paused in confusion.

She looked down to where Nykyrian stood on the ground, oblivious to her.

Uncertainty filled her as she glanced back at the one seat inside the fighter. Was this the correct ship? Where was she supposed to sit, his lap? Warmth rushed through her at the thought.

"Sit forward on the seat," Nykyrian instructed from below as he finally noticed herhesitation.

She did as ordered.

From her seated position, Kiara saw someone come forward with two helmets and a computer log. Nykyrian quickly signed the log, grabbed the helmets and joined her.

Trying to distract herself from the warm body squeezing in behind her, she studied the ship's controls. The main panel reminded her of a museum piece. She hadn't noticed how old this craft was.

Nykyrian must have noticed her interest, because he said quietly, "It's a Bertraud Trebuchet Fighter."

"I thought they quit making them years ago and the only one to survive was sold to Nemesis."

"We're good friends," he said in a strange tone that made her wonder if they were lovers.

Before she could ask him another question, he placed a helmet over her head. Kiara could feel his arms moving behind her and realized he was removing his glasses.

Curious, she tried to turn around.

"Don't!" he snapped.

Kiara stiffened.

Her agitation melted as his strong arms came around her to flip the switches in front of her.

With a deafening roar, the engines fired, then settled down to a soft whir. In the crackling distortion filling her ears, she heard the controller's voice through the intercom in her helmet.

She leaned back. Nykyrian's body jerked at the unexpected contact. A wicked smile curved Kiara's lips. Well, he wasn't quite as oblivious to her as he pretended.

Nykyrian was instantly inflamed by her body pressed against his own. God, he was an idiot! Why didn't he think to borrow Jayne's double-seated fighter? Could he make it to Gouran without his hormones taking over his common sense?He forced his thoughts from the soft body molded against his and gave full attention to the directive for launch.

The G-force brought her body solidly against his, increasing his discomfort. And his arousal. His hand trembled as he clutched the throttle.

Nykyrian was tempted to abort the launch and avail himself of the woman in his lap.

Instead, he availed himself of his famed iron-will.

Within minutes, they cleared the orbit.

Kiara watched as the murky gray planet shrank out of sight. For some inexplicable reason, she felt safe in this stranger's arms. Common sense told her he was a trained military assassin and she should be very much afraid, but her heart discounted her fears.

For some insane reason, she didn't think he would ever hurt her.

Shifting in the seat, she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Sit still," he ordered, his voice hard.

His tone irked her. "What do you expect with me crammed in front of you?" she asked.

"I expect you to sit still."

With a harrumph, Kiara leaned back. Her ire melted as his heart thumped heavily against her shoulder. She became aware of his body heat, of the strong masculine scent of leather and musk. She wanted this man more than she had ever wanted anything.

Kiara sighed, knowing he was beyond her abilities to claim.

Nykyrian felt Kiara relax against him. He knew he should apologize for his curtness. But apologies were not something he had ever concerned himself with. Besides, it was just as well she not like him. There was no hope for anything between them. He reminded himself he had chosen his life carefully, but never had that decision weighed so heavily upon his mind.

They remained silent the rest of the long journey.

Kiara was ecstatic as her world came into view. She heard Nykyrian's deep voice speaking her native Gourish flawlessly, explaining his business to the controller.The controller's voice cracked as he gave them coordinates.

Kiara blinked, unable to believe her eyes as an air squadron surrounded them. The ships were not a welcoming party, they were military fighters, fully armed and ready to fire.

Nykyrian's arms tightened in expectation. Her heart pounded. What if one of her father's soldiers panicked and fired for no reason? Though the pilots were carefully trained, mistakes happened and she didn't want to be included in a statistics book. "Release the fighters!" she snapped.

"Kiara?" her father's relieved voice burst through her headset. "Angel, are you all right?"

"Papa, please," she begged before a misfire happened. "He is here only to return me.

Call your troops off."

Silence greeted her for a few seconds. Finally, her father sighed and recalled his soldiers to base.

Nykyrian's arms relaxed around her as the fighters dropped away.

It took several minutes to reach the main landing bay. The huge glass and masonry structure welcomed Kiara. Never had she experienced such a happy homecoming. The capitol city hummed with activity as they lowered their altitude.

Nykyrian executed a smooth landing inside the bay.

After releasing the canopy, he unbuckled Kiara from her seat. She removed her helmet and turned to face him. She raised a questioning eyebrow as she noted he made no moves to remove his own gear. "Will you not join us for awhile?"

Looking over the side of his fighter, he noted the large gathering of her father's troops.

He shook his head. "They look nervous," he said dryly.

Kiara handed him the helmet. "I can never thank you enough for what you've done."

"My pleasure. I live to transport beautiful women."

Kiara thought he was teasing, but his voice never changed. "You are a mystery," she whispered, entranced by him. "Why don't you come to my opening performance tonight?

I'll leave you a couple of passes."He sighed. "No, thank you. You should refrain from performing until the people trying to kill you are found and terminated."

She disregarded his advice. She was home now and everything would be fine.

Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed the side of his helmet. "Thanks again," she said, then dropped over the side of his ship.

Once her feet touched the ground, she ran to her father's outstretched arms. Her heart was light now that she was safe and returned.

Tiarun had dark, drawn circles under his eyes and he regarded her face with a deep, forbidding frown, tracing the outline of her swollen cheek. Kiara gave him a tight hug.

"It doesn't hurt," she assured him.

"The OMG told me they killed the ones responsible."

Kiara trembled at the reminder. "They did."

Tiarun squeezed her to the point she feared her ribs would crack. "You shall have an armed guard in the future. I don't know what possessed the OMG to return you unharmed. But I thank God you're safe."