Alien dragon shifter Syenite “Syen” Pyroxene stared at the glittering human female standing before him.

Was this a dream?

Her ample chest spilled from her tight pink velveteen blouse cinched with a matching corset. A short, purple skirt hugged her grippable thighs. Sparkly green and gold powder dusted her eyelids and cheeks in dramatic swirls. Cheerful blue hair streaked with feminine pink and powerful violet caressed her shoulders.

No, she was not a dream.

She was a goddess.

All colors and sparkles and curves. Extra large curves. He had never imagined such a woman could exist and now she was standing before him and asking for his company.

Had his translator malfunctioned?

“I’d buy you a drink,” she bargained, a hopeful smile still spreading her luscious pink lips.

His translator had been accurate.

His jaw dropped. “Your date?”

“Yeah.” She waved over her shoulder in the direction of the front door. “Mine kind of had a last-minute thing.”

“He had to wash his hair.”

“You saw that.” Her smile fled. She covered her butterfly-lined eyes. “It’s what I get for accepting an invitation from a dude off a website.”

What the hell is wrong with your hair? The pot-bellied male had snapped at her just outside the bar while Syen had been passing by. There’s not enough beer in the world. No way.

“He was concerned about your hair.”

“Oh my god, you heard that too?” She shuddered. “Let’s pretend it never happened. If you’re alone like me then why not share a few drinks together?”

Why not?

Well…

“It doesn’t have to last forever. Just an hour or two.” She hugged an elbow to her side. “It’s lonely spending a birthday alone.”

Ah. He understood now.

She was not interested in him as a male.

His heart squeezed.

This glittering, dreamy goddess deigned to offer a few hours of her company because it was her special celebration day. She had come up to him, one of the rare dragon shifters on her planet, to make a memory.

This was likely his only opportunity to spend any time with such a dramatically decorated female.

He had to take this chance.

“Excuse me.” Syen touched the black noise-canceling earbud in his left ear. “Boss.”

“Approach.”

Syen pushed off the dingy column and wove through the crowds to powerful dragon shifter Sard Carnelian.

Massive shoulders crammed into a pink button-up shirt with a white undershirt. Huge thighs filled the largest pair of jeans. Aristocratic silver ingots punctured his face and filled his teeth, and silver flecked his bald head.

He nursed a cherry cola at one of the tables. His heavyweight bulk and aristocratic bearing kept the nearest humans away, making Syen’s job as his bodyguard significantly easier.

“Sir,” Syen said softly.

Sard Carnelian sipped his drink. “Seen our artist?”

“Not yet.”

The heavyweight male rested his soda on the table. “What is it?”

“There is a woman. A female. She has asked me to spend time as her ‘birthday date.’”

“Now? You’re on duty.”

Syen remained silent.

Frowning, his boss looked over Syen’s shoulder. “The blonde?”

He shook his head.

“Brunette?”

“No.”

“Other brunette? The one with the purple streak? Black hair? Shaved head?” It was frequently easier to describe Earth’s females by their hair because they wore their hair so differently. “Shaved head with the bomber jacket?”

“That is a male.”

His boss grunted. “Some are hard to tell.”

He acknowledged that the males and females on this planet did select non-traditional clothing. “She is the female with the purple, blue, and pink hair.”

His boss’s jaw went slack. “She’s here alone?”

“Her previous date suffered a nervous breakdown. He babbled about her hair and the limited amount of beer in the world before leaving her here alone.”

His boss’s expression softened. A female as attractively shaped and colored as Eva would cause any male to go crazy guarding her. Everyone would wish for her as his mate. No wonder the stress had exceeded his tolerance.

And she had asked for Syen as a replacement. A second miracle.

He would make her glad to have chosen him.

Sard’s eyes narrowed. “Does she know…?”

His gut clenched.

No, she did not know he was unworthy. Once, he could have offered her an elevated position on Draconis, the adoration of the planet, and the grandeur of his estate. Riches and privileges. Pure aristocracy dominated his bloodline.

Once.

“…about your eyes?”

His hand went to his opaque tactical glasses. Despite the riches and privileges, his hideous ugliness had been present even as a full-blooded aristocrat. “I will remain shielded.”

“She will be angry when she discovers the truth.”

“Our time is limited to two hours.”

Sard’s eyes narrowed as he divined Syen’s true hope. She might never discover his eyes. He finally turned his big shoulder away. “Keep me in your field of vision.”

His heart soared. “Sir.”

“Go.”

Syen turned on his heel. His black business jacket flared, revealing more of the black shirt beneath, and he strode swiftly to where he had left his female.

She’d turned away and was scanning the bar crowd.

Searching for another replacement already?

She slurped the last of her drink as she caught sight of him at her elbow and choked.

Coughing and gasping, she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’re back! I thought you’d made a fast escape.”

Escape? “I had to requests permission from my boss.”

She sniffed and dabbed. “Boss?”

He pointed.

Her moist eyes widened. “That’s your—? He, uh, he looks… What did you say your job was?”

“Bodyguard.”

Her head whipped around. “Here? For him? Are you expecting trouble?”

No. Their nearest rivals did not frequent this bar. “We are expecting an artist.”

“Artist? Like a tattoo artist?”

“Silver.”

She looked confused.

Sard was looking for new button and accessory designs. “He owns Carnelian Clothiers.”

“Clothes?” She blinked rapidly, then shrugged. “Sure. Okay. Why not?”

“Why not what?”

She waved off the question. “Did he say yes? How about that drink!”

“What would you like?”

“That’s my question! I offered to buy you a drink.”

“Please allow me this small privilege.”

“But you don’t have to.”

He did not have to. Providing her with a food or drink he had hunted was the most basic offering from a male to the female he wished to treasure. Whether on Draconis or on Earth, the act was the same.

If she would allow it.

He waited.

“Um. Did you really want to?”

“It would be my greatest pleasure.”

Her smile softened. She glanced down at her nearly empty glass. “Another one of these would be good, I guess.”

“Wait here.”

He wove through the crowd to the bar, always keeping both his female and Sard in his angle of vision, and shouldered to the counter.

At the counter to his left, a young male was supplicating a haughty woman. “Come on. Ask your boss for a break. Let’s go outside and—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Look. I’m not your girlfriend, okay? Last week was just a hook up.” She tossed her hair and moved down the counter to Syen. “What can I get you?”

The male looked after her with sadness.

Syen’s chest tightened in empathy. His brother had worn the same sad expression when his ex-wife had rejected him.

Then, she’d gone on a rampage and destroyed their estate.

“Hon?” the woman prompted.

Syen placed his order and the haughty female returned with two glasses. She took his black, unlimited credit card with both hands as though afraid she would drop it.

He carried the drinks to his female. Ironically, the drinks illustrated their differences. One, a swirled multi-color confection of light. The other, plain dark cola.

His female hugged her elbows while she stood near the pillar. She had waited.

He swallowed his nervous-happy apprehension.

Earth females did not belch fire but there were still many ways they could cause injury. In Syen’s case, the easiest would simply be refusing his offering of a drink, hanging her head in disgust, and walking away.

He held out the colorful offering.

She brightened and reached for the cocktail. “Thank you!”

She accepted his offering.

Her grateful smile washed over him like a bright ray of sunshine. His mouth went dry. He couldn’t speak. He sipped his cola.

She pointed through the crowd. “I think there’s a table.” Turning, she started for it.

The feminine sway of her wide hips accented the curve of her derriere. Beneath the skirt, her long legs were decorated with lacy lavender dragons.

Destiny.

No, no. Dragons were popular mythological figures. She might have acquired these tights before the last five years when very real Draconis spaceships suddenly appeared over Earth’s startlingly blue skies.

The standing table she targeted was being approached by a rowdy group of young human males. His tactical glasses printed their approach vector and calculated they would reach the table before his female.

Syen cut between bar patrons and slipped in front of her so he reached the table at the same time as the males. He put his hand on the slim wood as the first one reached it. The young male started to protest, still laughing, and the group spread out to appear larger.

He lightened the opacity of his black shades.

Their eyes widened and they stopped laughing.

“It’s yours, dude,” the closest one said and backed off. The others moved away, silent.

He darkened the opacity again.

His female moved around his elbow and set her drink on the table beside him. “Well, that was nice. Getting a table around here is usually impossible.”

“Nice,” he echoed and savored another wave of her sparkling smile.

“Thanks again for this.” She stepped on an overturned cup beneath the table. “Oh!”

Her tall black wedges wobbled and her ankle rolled. She fell sideways into him.

He gripped her elbow.

She leaned her full weight against him, nearly collapsing in his arms.

He cushioned her like a precious gem.

Her gentle back curved, inviting his caress. Breasts pillowed his forearm under textured pink velveteen. He wanted to stroke it, first the soft way, and then rough-soft the opposite direction.

Her sparkly skin beneath the velveteen would be even softer.

His cock twitched.

She straightened and stepped out of his arms. “Oh my god. I am so sorry!”

She was sorry.

He let her go. She was sorry to be in his arms. “The fault is mine.”

“Yours?” She looked at him like he was crazy.

“I grabbed you.”

“Oh. No. Thank you.” She lifted one black leather wedge. “I’m not used to wearing these heels.”

“They are not well-fitted to your foot type.”

“Understatement of the year. I was trying to make at least one part of me sensible.”

“Sensible?”

“Not sparkly.”

“Why?”

She blinked at focused on him. “Really?”

“Yes.” She was sparkly as a jewel. Her clothes sparkled and so did her hair. No dragon back on Draconis would believe such vivid colors and styles were possible. Until they had landed on Earth, they wore only functional fabrics in dull colors. Now that Sard Carnelian had introduced the richness of non-shifter, human designs, the dragons realized they were missing much and couldn’t get enough.

“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’m fine.”

“Yes.” Her fabric choices, her color designs, and her stylistic choices were of high quality. “You are very fine.”

She snorted. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her eyes fixed on him. Accented with the sparkly green and blue powders and fringed with thick, curved lashes, her irises were the color and clarity of brown diamonds. Diamonds threaded with reddish-bronze veins of cinnabar.

Her lips parted in surprise. Their lush shape was emphasized by hot pink gloss. “You’re serious.”

“Always.”

She tilted her head. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

“It’s my first time at this bar.”

“Then that’s why. Thanks again for being my date and sorry about what you saw before. I’m not usually so pathetic.”

Of course she was not. And she did not have to apologize to him. He was the last male a female like her would choose. No wonder she felt helplessly sad.

Her eyes roved lower down his form.

He forced himself not to stiffen.

Did his fallen status cling to him like a foul odor? He wore business clothes and had not changed into appropriate bar attire. Did she evaluate his too-formal suit — and the slender, narrow-chested body beneath — and find him wanting?

She glanced into his cup. “What are you having?”

“Cherry cola.”

“You don’t drink?”

“It is a needless expense.”

She reddened and studied her fluffy glass. “Well, sometimes it is needed. Like after a long week and a sudden disappointment. Although tonight’s starting to pick up.”

Oh. She thought he judged her choices.

Curse his stupidity. He socialized rarely. Now his lack of practice injured the female he only wished to worship.

“Needless for me,” he clarified. “I cannot become drunk from alcohol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am always serious.”

“So you said. And you never drink?”

“Other liquids are less expensive and equally effective at slaking thirst.”

Dragons didn’t experience human symptoms after drinking alcohol. A fifth of vodka caused slight heartburn. Fizzy sodas were smooth, sparkling, and much preferred.

“Too bad.” She shrugged and sipped her glass of horned-horse-expelled-gas. “Because this is delicious.”

A tiny muscle eased the tense band constricting his heart. She approved of his offering. The first step in any mating dance.

Not that they were mating. He only wished to pretend they were. For as long as possible. “Good.”

The music changed to a new song, and the sound blared. His earbuds adjusted to the higher volume.

“So, hey. I just realized we never introduced ourselves.” She had to shout to be heard. “My name is Evalina. Well, actually my friends call me Eva.”

So noted.

“What’s your name?”

“Syen.”

“Simon?”

He removed one of his noise-interpreting earbuds. Music assaulted his ear. He handed the bud to her. “Wear this.”

“What is it?” She put it into her right ear without waiting for his answer. Her face changed. “Whoah! The music’s so clear but I can suddenly hear…and I’m shouting again, aren’t I?” She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry. What was your name?”

He lowered his mouth to her right ear. “Syen.”

She shivered. “Syen. Is that right?”

It was more than right. Hot pink lips teased his name. He wanted her mouthing it over and over as she moaned her way to a shattering orgasm.

He nodded and sipped his cola.

She touched the earbud. “You didn’t buy this at the campus bookstore, did you?”

He shook his head.

“So why are you wearing sunglasses inside? Are they special too?”

He nodded.

“Can I see?”

He hesitated. If he took them off, she would see his eyes.

Her stunning diamond-cinnabar irises focused on him attentively.

He shook his head.

“Oh.” She laughed awkwardly. “Sorry for asking. Do you work for a technology company? Wait, no. You already said.”

“Clothier,” he repeated.

Her gaze traced the line of his tailored black suit. It was one of the first products Carnelian Clothiers had imported to Draconis.

Evalina leaned toward him again. Her ankles wobbled. She grabbed his forearm for balance. “Do you or your boss have any spare shoes? I made the mistake of trying to buy ‘normal’ ones only they were out of my size.”

“No.” He liked her hand on him. “My boss did not bring clothes. He is trying to sign a jewelry artist.”

She craned her neck to see Sard again.

Syen shifted closer to block her from his boss’s view. Not that Sard was a danger. But the protective urge to hide Evalina, an attractive female, from his much worthier, more dominant boss was something Syen did not want to analyze.

She looked at his crowding with surprise.

He tried to divert her attention. “Are you alone?”

“No, my friends are down there.” She pointed to the bobbing dance floor. “We come here to unwind almost every weekend. It’s convenient. We all love to dance.”

“You too?”

“Nah.” She waved him off. “I look like an elephant having a seizure. So, you know.”

No. He didn’t know. “Is that a compliment?”

“Not exactly.” She knocked the last drops of her second drink into her mouth.

He couldn’t understand. “An elephant is nothing like you.”

“I’m big.”

He shook his head.

“I am.” She looked up — and up, and up. Her lips curved into a familiar smile. “Don’t shake your head. You’re huge.”

How kind of her to say so. He threw back his shoulders. “My brothers are all much larger.”

They had the powerful barrel chest female dragons preferred. That was why his ex-sister-in-law had selected his eldest brother to be her husband.

Although, Syen’s flaws were more hidden in human form. Dragon differences disappeared.

“Well, anyway. Close your eyes, picture me as an animal, and it’s not too hard to get to ‘elephant.’ Sadly.”

Was this a test? Her rainbow hair only reminded him of one animal. “You are an exotic bird. A swangali with artful plumage.”

She blinked and softened. Her hand touched her chest next to her heart. “You’re so sweet.”

Was he?

He wanted that beautiful smile on her face every moment of every day.

The music changed.

Her smile faded. “I used to dance to this song.”

He studied the floor.

Dancing was intimate. Couples simulated mating with their arms around each other and their waists pressed together, front-to-front or front-to-back.

From a tactical perspective, it was dangerous. He could lose his concentration.

And she could reject him.

She stared at the bobbing couples longingly.

He could not stop himself from asking. “Would you like to dance?”