Page 28 of A Delicate Conquest

She set her drink down on the bench and opened her mouth to speak.

No words came out.

With nothing else left to do, she stared.

Is that… really him?

Mavrel had transformed from a slightly disgruntled, utilitarianly dressed alien tech guy into a High Elven Space Prince… or something like that.

Bea couldn’t believe the transformation. She couldn’t help but ogle him from head to toe.

His pearl-hued hair—almost the same shade as her braids, come to think of it—had been brushed and smoothed into lustrous lengths that cascaded past his shoulders. Bea had the sudden urge to run her fingers through it.

His elegantly pointed ears were adorned with piercings—three studs of increasing size on each side—glittering green gemstones in black metal settings. The stones looked a little like emeralds; only they were shot through with veins of brilliant amber that matched the color of his eyes.

Opulent robes were draped across his shoulders, which were broader than she’d realized. A shade of blue so deep it almost appeared black, and with bronze-embroidered borders, the robes extended to mid-calf. They were open at his chest, offering her a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted silver torso until it disappeared beneath a broad, wrapped silken belt.

Fitted, tapered trousers were tucked into knee-high boots, the effect both elegant and rakish.

Aside from High Elven Space Prince, his outfit was also giving Refined Space Pirate vibes.

Bea was thankful for the bench, because it hid her lower body and the fact that her knees were practically quivering.

He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“Hello, Bea,” he said softly as he walked toward her.

“Hi, Mavrel.” She barely managed a reply. “You look…amazing, you know?”

“As your escort to the event, I had to come up with something that doesyoujustice. If I look amazing, then you’re transcendent.”

His compliment hit her in the chest like a bolt of warm and invigorating energy. She hadn’t expected that from him atall.

It was as if the goalposts had suddenly shifted to a much higher plane, where anything was possible.

“I’m looking forward to your company, Mavrel.”

He smiled, revealing gleaming fangs. In an instant, the smile transformed his face from sharply elegant to warm—and still achingly handsome.

And yet, the fangs were an inescapable reminder of his otherworldliness.

As he drew nearer, she sensed a certain kind of tension around him—an aura of sorts, palpable and faintly dangerous.

He wanted her.

It wasn't just the logic of understanding the Mating Fever. It was something else. A certain feeling. She didn’t know how exactly, but she could tell.

She wassureof it.

The realization sent a jolt of delicious warmth through her. Desire flickered between her thighs.

Still smiling, Mavrel beckoned with a soft nod. “Come. Let’s go. I don’t normally enjoy these large events, but with you accompanying me, I’m sure it won’t be painful at all.”

“Hang on a sec.” Bea took a big sip from her glass—almost finishing the drink—and walked around the bar until she was standing right in front of him.

She looked down at her fluffy slippers. “What about my shoe? Or should I make a fashion statement and turn up in these?”

A look of mild horror crossed Mavrel’s features. “Absolutely not. You will be dressed as you had intended.”

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