A moment later the door opened and she stood there smiling, with legs apart and hands on her hips. But he hardly had time to react to the skimpiness of her halter and skirt.
"Now," she urged as she sprang up on her toes and kissed him full on the lips, "like a chaser make! To the races we're off!"
With that, she whirled and went streaking through the next room.
He surveyed his surroundings. It was an ordinary bedroom with conventional furnishings—perhaps a bit crude even for a culture without any space technology. But, then, it didn't seem uncharacteristic, considering the circumstances.
Recognizing the contrast between this guest house and the manor, he frowned as he started off in search of the girl. A worrisome suspicion dogged his thoughts—there had to be sense to Riva and her father and this sumptuous estate, natives who made sport of chasing skimmer craft and voluptuous women when they weren't otherwise indiscreetly occupied. But what?
In the kitchen, he discovered Riva's shapely leg protruding from behind a cabinet. He suspected the exposure was not as accidental as she wanted him to believe. He was certain of that when, as he seized her ankle, she crawled out laughing.
Now she stood before him, unsmiling and impatient, and her slender arms reached out for his shoulders.
"Riva, this is serious!" He forced her hands down again. "I'm in trouble. I need help."
"It's to help you I've been trying all along."