Nate didn't bother disagreeing. He wasn't in the mood to lose this particular argument.
Darcone stopped at the entrance to the women's common area, a place he almost never entered. Nate knew it was because Darcone understood all too well that his appearance frightened them. He felt sorry for the alien, always had. Brianna MacNamara was the only female who didn't seem intimidated. He'd sort of hoped … but no, he wouldn't go there. That was crazy stuff and he liked to think reuniting with Sheena hadn't robbed him of all his faculties.
Angus walked into the area and all the women clapped and catcalled. Angus grinned and yelled something that had the women all giggling.
"Admiral, get yer reluctant arse in here. I want to show ya off. Sheena's been visiting with Erin this afternoon and is waiting to see ya."
Sighing with mortification, Nate jerked at the strange noise Darcone made. "Are you laughing at me?" he demanded.
"Much to learn, you have. Chin up."
"You've barely spoken to me in a hundred years. Now you're giving me advice? Why didn't you just volunteer to be a matchmaker? Then I wouldn't have to put up with Angus."
"Stupid, I am not," Darcone said, holding open the door. "Go. Grab man stick. Easy to find now."
The alien pointed at the kilt and showed Nate all his pointed teeth.
"You and Angus both need to accept that I still run this fucking airship. I go when I want to go. And I don't have to dress like an idiot for the general population's fucking amusement. I look ridiculous in this fucking … kilt."
Their heads turned at the sound of a woman's strong voice. It was impossible not to hear her or listen when she spoke.
"I thought you said Nate was coming with you."
"He's afraid to come in here, Sheena. I think he's uncomfortable with his manliness on display. There's no hiding it in a kilt," Angus said from within.
"Shut up, wind bag. I am not afraid. I'm embarrassed, you irritating bastard," Nate said through gritted teeth.
Sheena's laughter told him she'd heard his snide comments. Angus making him feel foolish in front of the woman he loved was more than Nate could handle. He narrowed his eyes, lifted his chin, and walked inside. A female murmur of admiration echoed all around him. Women made comments and whispered that he was the Admiral.
Angus bumped his arm as he passed by him. "Are ya getting it yet?"
"Shut up, Angus," Nate said, but without any venom this time. It took all his concentration to keep his face from flushing from all the very interested gazes turned his way. Why did that slang slinging bastard always have to be right?
Sheena stared at him for what seemed like hours before turning her head to the smiling women. "Back off, ladies. The Admiral's already taken."
"I am?" Nate said stupidly.
"Aren't you?" Sheena demanded.
Erratic breathing over her claim swelled the sash against his recently resurrected pectoral muscles. He could suddenly hear his own unsteady breath because every female in the room was holding hers and waiting for the next words he spoke.
He hadn't felt this kind of pressure from any alien encounter. Hell, he hadn't felt it dealing with either of his controlling parents. This woman indeed owned him. It was the one thing he was never going to be able to lie about, even if he got good at lying one day.
"Yes, I'm yours, Sheena MacNamara, for better or worse or both. I've always been yours. I never want not to be yours again. Will you marry me and be my wife until we die?" Nate asked, walking close.
"Don't you think it's a little unfair of you to be asking me such a question in front of all these women who don't have anyone of their own?"
"I'm working on that … or rather Angus and Erin are," Nate said in his defense.
"Come on, Sheena. Ya can't be blood of my blood and not fall for a man who looks that good in a fecking kilt, especially when ya know what's under it is yers for the taking," Erin teased, poking Sheena in the back. Her gaze went over her kin's head. "Ya cut a fine figure in a kilt, Nate. There must be a majestic Celt somewhere in yer ancestry."
"Thank you, Erin. Tomorrow you'll have to tell me what that means. I can't think well enough at the moment to guess."
"Why? Has the blood left yer head and travelled south, Admiral? Ya might want to add a sporran to yer ensemble. It sort of holds ya down in moments like this. Or do ya also think it's unmanly to wear a purse with yer skirt?"
"One day I swear I'm going to kick your ass," Nate promised to the sound of Angus's laughter.