Dangerously Yours: 2 (Loving Dangerously) by A.M. Griffin

closet door.
    When is he going to send Moira to comb my hair? She raked her fingers through the tangled mess of waves that spilled over her shoulders. Realizing it was no use, she stopped.
    She had scrubbed her face clean of makeup, preferring her natural skin instead. If Moira were here she would have promptly covered Sa’Mya’s face in the expensive makeup that made her resemble a concubine rather than a princess.
    Sa’Mya looked at her naked and exposed thighs. She turned to the side for further inspection and noticed the bottom of the shirt stopped midway on her butt cheeks.
    This isn’t going to work.
    The slightest movement would reveal her most intimate details.
    She wouldn’t mind wearing the comfortable garment if she were at home, in her private quarters where visitors were few and far between. But she wasn’t at home. She was trapped with an ignorant male. And thinking about the episode this morning, she quickly decided that she wouldn’t give him even a glimpse of her royal flesh. She pulled at the material, trying to stretch it past her butt.
    The material stretched slightly but not by much. She needed bottoms. She rummaged through the closet and grabbed a pair of loose-fitting pants. She held them up to her legs. Too long. With a flick of the wrist, she dropped those and grabbed the next pair—drab gray, yuck . She let the pants slip from her fingertips.
    Sa’Mya sifted through the rest of the garments.
    Cheap…inferior material…this color makes me nauseous.
    The Loconuist should have invaded Earth for no other reason than crimes against fashion.
    This wouldn’t do at all. No matter what the captain’s plans were, she needed her clothes.
    Sa’Mya went to the communication panel. The open-channel button was so tempting. The captain had already yelled at her once, she wouldn’t call for him again. She punched every other button besides that one. “Moira? Nebin? Yazmine?” she called with each try.
    “What,” Kane bellowed from the intercom as she finished the second row.
    I didn’t want him. “I’m ready for my clothes. Send Moira to attend to me.” She released the button but quickly selected it again. “Please,” she added.
    “What? Do you need help? Ryan isn’t here to translate.”
    “Argh. Clothes, you ignorant son of a Trnornin slime worm. Clothes,” she yelled.
    “I can’t understand you, but if you have an emergency press the button twice.”
    Sa’Mya did as he instructed.
    “If I come all the way there and it’s not an emergency, I will send you out the air lock. Now press the button twice if you have an emergency.”
    She reached for the button but pulled her hand away. “You are such a Hkerian toad.”
    “I thought so. Now do whatever princesses do until I return. I know you can’t be missing me already.” He laughed, hard and throaty, before the line went dead.
    With a slew of curses, she slumped on the bed.
    Who does he think he’s messing with? I’m Princess Sa’Mya of Laconia. Soon to be queen. Oh, right. He doesn’t know.
    Sa’Mya threw an arm across her face and groaned.
    * * * * *
     
    Kane sat back in his chair and chuckled. He couldn’t understand her but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she had cussed him out. She couldn’t comb her own hair or dress herself but she could cuss. The thought amused him.
    She had a temper on her, that was for sure. He couldn’t blame her aides for going buck wild the first chance they got. They were probably overjoyed to be away from the selfish and self-absorbed princess. He had every intention of allowing her the aides and trunks of clothes.
    After I bring her to heel.
    He imagined her now, sitting on his bed, arms crossed over her voluptuous breasts, light-red pouting lips contrasting against radiant skin. Even with knots in her hair, he remembered the silky strands running through his fingers. Kane flexed his hands.
    Anna. He grabbed his armrest.
    I won’t, no, can’t soil her memory. Anna, my