She can hear the tap of his staff and the uneven cadence of his hurried steps as he limped toward her. Mara squeezed her eyes shut with a grimace, trying to steady herself. Then she spat in the sani one more time.
Gripping the sides of the sani, Mara pushed herself to her feet. Her head swam and she put a hand out against the wall to get her balance. Pulling the stall door open she preemptively said, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” Luke’s expression pinched. “You’re white as a bleached sheet.”
Colored lights winked through the lacy translucent groves of arches and windows of the Guest House suite, twinkling as if they danced to the snatches of music that filtered in. The notes seemed to soar, faint and playful, floating above her head among the vaulted ceiling’s pendant luma baskets.
Humming softly and absently to the familiar tune, Mara went to her tiptoes. Without lifting her eyes from the datapad in her hand, she slid a foot out in front of her and drifted into a series of effortlessly elegant dance steps. The gathering of the Ithorian star herds had made the Force as thick as treacle here and she fell into its rock and sway with unthinking ease. The emerald vine-silk of her gown billowed around her legs as she twirled in a half-pirouette.
Affection and desire washed over her awareness in a cascading wave and she flushed with it, going breathless and pink in an instant as her body responded. Her head came up as she finished the spin, all her senses irrepressibly drawn to the archway that separated the room from the shadowy entry alcove.
Luke leaned one shoulder against the column there, a besotted half smile on his face. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Skulking, Skywalker?” Mara tossed the datapad onto a nearby table.
“Admiring,” he corrected, pushing off the doorway to cross the distance between them. “You know I love when you dance.”
“Hmm,” Mara agreed, tipping her face up to let him kiss her. His arms closed around her, warm and solid, and his mouth claimed hers hungrily. She let herself sink into the feeling as she lifted her arms up around his neck. She’d missed this. Missed him.
Apparently, she thought with amusement, he’d missed her, too, because his strong, work-roughened fingers wasted no time sliding under the thin straps at her shoulders. A decisive tug and they were slipping down her arms, her gown whispering to the floor. Luke’s hands swept in long, possessive strokes over bare skin leaving crackling heat and tingling desire in their wake.
“Are you done for the night?” The words were a murmur against his lips.
“With everything but you.” Luke curved his hands around her thighs and boosted her up.
