He grunted, set his hand on the door above my head, leaned in so he was even closer now.
This close I could see the fathomless darkness of his eyes. The scar on his face, the whiskers on his strong jaw. I could breathe in his scent.
“I shall be patient with you, but I will not wait months or years to make you mine.”
“Um… yeah.” I sounded like an idiot, but what did one say to an Atlan who wanted to claim you? “Wait.” I set my hand on his chest. The heat of him seeped through the fabric of his shirt. He was hard against my palm, and I felt his steady heartbeat. “What about the show? I mean, you’ve got to pick one of the contestants.”
His free hand touched my hair again, as if he’d never seen it that color before. Maybe he hadn’t.
“The bachelor has yet to be chosen. I am one of five Atlans here. Obviously the male chosen will not be me.”
I exhaled, pleased to know that he wasn’t telling me I belonged to him while planning to go back upstairs and have twenty-four gorgeous women flirt and try to get in his pants.
“I’m not having sex with you.” The words fell from my mouth without thinking.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “While I know you are wet for me, I will not take what is not freely given.”
Oh. My. God. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. And desire.
“It is my job to make you see we are perfect for each other. It is my job to make you beg for my cock.”
My panties had just gone up in flames. His deep voice, those words, they were hard to fight.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, ducking under his arm.
“Where?” He turned to face me. Now he blocked the door, and I became nervous.
“Home. I’ve had a long day.”
“I will come with you.”
I wanted to say yes, because he seemed nice. He was hot. Attentive. But I was not having sex with an Atlan within ten minutes of laying eyes on him. I remembered what had happened with Wulf and Olivia. He’d claimed her in a dressing room, up against the door. While the cameras had been on the other side of it and captured nothing, it had been obvious to everyone in the world what they were up to. On live TV.
I wasn’t into a quickie pickup. I wasn’t into a one-night stand. While I believed him, I’d been burned and put into danger in the past.
I had to be smart. He had to prove himself to me.
“No. I need time. As I said, get to know each other. If you want me as you say, then we’ll… date.”
I couldn’t see taking an eight-foot Atlan to dinner at my favorite restaurant. There was no way he could be anything but conspicuous.
He studied me, then nodded. “Very well. I shall ensure you arrive at your quarters safely.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You are mine, Quinn McCaffrey. I protect what is mine.”
He stepped to the side, allowing me to leave the room. I didn’t say anything more, just nodded my head and left, although I knew he followed.
* * *
“You walked away? Are you insane?” Ellen asked. I pulled my cell away from my ear. I’d made it home, showered, and changed into my new silk pajamas, cute ones with the embroidered flower detail on the lapels that were perfect for the hot Florida nights. Then I’d grabbed a glass of wine before she called.
“Of course I walked away. I know nothing about the guy. What was I supposed to do?” I countered, sticking the bottle back into the fridge. I padded barefoot across the tile floor into the living room and looked out at twinkling lights that were blurry through the rain. I’d been right in my on-air report, and if the data was correct, the storm would blow over in an hour or so.
When I’d been a national meteorologist, I’d been well compensated. Here in Miami, I’d chosen a small but well-appointed home in a quiet neighborhood that backed to the water. One side of the house had floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the view, which could be opened to let in the warm air and gentle breeze. I often did so during the day, but at night I was still paranoid and afraid of someone getting to me. I always felt exposed, even through the glass, so I went to the button on the wall and the blinds lowered all around the room.
“Like I said,” she replied. “Climb that tall drink of water.”
I laughed. “I don’t pick up strange men.”
“He’s not strange, nor is he a man.”
I rolled my eyes at her reminder. “Whatever.”
“We were supposed to go down to the Bachelor Beast floor together.”
“I didn’t summon the guy,” I reminded her. “He interrupted the live broadcast.”
“I know! It was so romantic!”
“You’re insane,” I countered. “Where were you? The makeup room was empty.”
“In the coffee shop in the lobby waiting for your segment to finish. So now what?”
I dropped onto my sectional, grabbed a chenille blanket, and tossed it over my feet. “What do you mean?”
“He said on TV that you were his mate. He’s not going away. What are you going to do about him?”
I sighed. “You know very well I don’t like guys chasing after me.” I shivered, pulled the blanket up a little higher.
“Bahre’s not a stalker, he’s an alien.” She softened her voice, all teasing gone. “Not all guys are bad, girlfriend.”
“I know, but I have a horrible track record. I collect lunatics like others collect glass figurines or shot glasses.” I frowned. “I’m trying to get past it. I am.”
“He’s a good guy. A warlord, for Pete’s sake. He wouldn’t have gotten to where he is today, and I don’t mean Earth, by being an asshole. He’s going to be on you like
