Page 69 of Escape Velocity

Chapter Fifteen

“I don’t think that’s a welcoming committee,” Max muttered without turning his head because he wasn’t going to give these guys a chance to get the drop on him.

“It depends on what you mean by welcome,” Rafe answered in the same barely audible voice.

Coming here had sounded like a good idea when they’d talked about it. That was before they’d been greeted by an armed contingent that outnumbered them almost five to one.

“You got a reason for being here?” one of the men called out in a challenging voice.

Before Max could answer, Amber pushed her way between the two men and stepped in front of them.

Max made a grab for her, but she was too fast for him as she took several steps away from the ship, her hips swaying seductively.

Kahlad, now what?

She stood tall, her lithe body commanding the attention of every guy in the clearing as she executed a sexy little dance.

As she moved her hips and arms, she began to sing what might have been a love song in the high clear voice that had captivated him the first time he’d heard it.

Max quickly saw that she was an excellent performer, snapping her fingers in rhythm to her voice, executing a captivating dance to the music she was making.

Like everyone else, he watched transfixed, and as the words registered in his brain, he struggled to keep his jaw from dropping open in astonishment. She wasn’t singing a love song. The words were about wearing apparel—about the shirts and pants and dresses they had brought.

She was telling the watching men that they had come bearing comfortable and beautiful clothing that everybody would want. She went through the sales spiel, then repeated it a second time, making the melody a bit more elaborate.

When the song came to an end, she lifted her arms in a flourish, bent a little at the waist, and slid one foot in front of the other.

Long seconds of absolute silence passed, and Max wasn’t sure of what would happen next. Then the man who had first spoken stepped forward. He was carrying a beamer, but he had lowered it, with the business end facing the ground.

“We keep our distance from outsiders,” he said. His voice was stiff, but his eyes traveled over Amber as he said, “But your chere just did a star turn.”

“Yeah,” Max answered.

“She shares other talents?”

Max wasn’t sure how he had planned to answer, but he heard himself say, “Her other talents are for me. She’s my wife.”

Amber whirled toward him, her eyes wide, and he knew his words had been the last thing she had expected to hear. But he had seen the swamp rats’ reaction to her performance. If they thought she might be a loose woman aiming to pick up some extra credits on the side, he wanted to make it very clear that she wasn’t for rent. He drew her close and explained, “She loves the chance to brag about our merchandise in her unique way.”

“Quite unique. Does she know more songs?”

“Many,” Max answered, squeezing her arm and hoping she wasn’t going to jump into the conversation.

“You trained her bon,” the spokesman said.

When Amber stiffened, Max answered quickly, “I didn’t train her. She has natural talent.”

Rafe interjected a comment designed to steer them back to business.

“She’s wearing a sample of the clothing we’ve brought.”

The man reached toward her skirt, but Max pulled Amber back. “Your women may want to examine the fabric of this dress and some of the others, but I do not allow strange men to touch my wife.”

“No harm meant.”

“No offense taken,” Max answered. “I’m Maxwell Cassidy. And my wife is Amber.”

Rafe stepped forward. “And I’m Brad Cambridge.”

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