back on his heels, forcing him up onto the wet sand. “If you cannot sense the difference between a friendly test of strength and a bloody duel, you will never rise in the ranks.”
His chin jerked back and he stood ramrod straight. Rage contracted his features, but he quickly controlled it.
“I know you can observe your surroundings,” Ciran said. “You are an excellent patroller and swift to defend your friends. Take a deep breath.”
He inhaled through gritted teeth.
“Tell me how you know it is a friendly test of strength.”
“I do not,” he snarled.
“Then tell me how I know. What signs do I see? Recite them.”
The warrior glared at the wrestlers just like a recalcitrant trainee, even though he was a fully grown adult, but by degrees, his shoulders lowered and his brows lifted. “They do not seek their weapons. And Zoan did not crush Gailen as he could have.”
Nilun shared a few more observations. Gailen and Zoan stopped wrestling on their own and clambered out, sopping wet from the surf, clapping each other on the back.
“Practice honing these observations,” Ciran ordered. “Stop, observe, and then act.”
Nilun frowned. “If I hesitate, someone could get hurt.”
“If you do not hesitate, you will make a mistake.”
“But—”
“A mistake will hurt an innocent warrior. Do not let your fierce loyalty become your greatest flaw.”
He lowered his gaze, nodded, and at Ciran’s order, returned to his patrol.
Ciran mentally shuffled patrols to schedule Nilun with any warrior except Gailen. He needed a long time to cool.
Across the sand, Lotar nodded at Ciran in silent respect. The grim set of his gray-tattooed jaw conveyed just how much he had not wanted to lead these warriors alone.
At least one warrior was glad that Ciran had not already united with Dannika.
He did not think he was unobservant. But if Zoan was right, he must hone his observations of Dannika or he would rush to the wrong conclusion like Nilun.
She would reveal her secrets, and he would overcome every barrier until they united.
The future of Atlantis depended on it.
Chapter Three
Ciran just had to realize he was wrong.
Dannika slipped into a lavender caftan dress with an aqua scroll pattern down the front and along the split sleeves, then examined herself in the mirror.
Was this dress blockier than the gold maxi she’d just rejected? Or less flattering than the scoop-neck green wrap she’d tried on before that?
Dannika tugged at the bodice.
Maybe she should wear the green wrap. It was lower cut, and—
Ugh, no, she needed to get down to the beach and start filming.
Dannika resolutely closed the closet, then spread her make-up across the long bathroom counter. Hmm. Subdued daytime coverage, or dramatic film-ready flare? She tapped her smallest brush against her tub of iridescent green eyeshadow. That had been an impulse a few months ago. Funny she hadn’t realized how closely it matched Ciran’s tattoos…
She shoved it back into her makeup clutch, selected muted colors for a mature, natural look, and set about smoothing, shaping, and shading.
Yes, Ciran was like a dream and he made her want to take a shower—with him in it—every time he glanced her way. Virility seeped from his tattooed, ripped, capable pores. Any woman would fan herself after encountering him.
Dannika’s mission came first.
She would put on a good smile when she found him the kind of young woman he deserved.
Dannika practiced the smile.
Hmm. A little flat.
She dropped the false smile and examined her scalp.
Three gray hairs intermixed with her long locks. Forty years in and she now had three gray hairs.
She grouped them together so her hair would get the idea and sprout a fabulous single gray streak, grabbed her woven beach tote, and flounced out of her guest cottage.
“Miss Dannika!” The owner of the cottage, an affable black Jamaican in his fifties who’d emigrated years ago, lifted his portable receiver. “Your assistant called. Is there a problem with your cell phone?”
“Oh, thank you so much.” She embraced him. “I forgot to turn it on again.”
“Yes, I thought so.” He returned her hug with one big arm. “And don’t worry. The repairman is coming to fix your door. I heard the noise this morning when I fed the peahens.”
“That’s so kind. Please add it to the bill like the others. You’re so understanding.”
He surveyed the property. “They have brought my good friends some happiness. And I know how hard it is to understand the ways of a new land.”
“Don’t we all.” She hugged him again.
He patted her and ambled to the back garden.
She rummaged in her woven