He caught her and settled her into his lap. She briefly considered protesting, but his chest was firm and silky beneath her cheek, and the big arms around her felt protective rather than confining. With a faint sigh, she snuggled closer, taking comfort in the musky scent that she already associated with him. She was vaguely aware that his cock stiffened beneath her and that her own body started to respond, but she was too sleepy to worry about either his arousal or her own. Her fingers tightened in his fur as she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Nine
Baralt looked down at the small female asleep in his arms and was once again filled with a mixture of lust and unexpected contentment. The thin cloth of his kiltar did little to conceal her lush curves—curves he remembered only too well. His kotra pressed uncomfortably against his sheath, but he would not take advantage of her trust. She felt so right nestled against him.
This is only temporary, he reminded himself. He would get her off the planet and safely to Hothrest. Once they knew that Relkhei was not actively pursuing her, she would be free to make other plans. The thought made his chest ache.
After leaving Hothrest, he had assumed he would never find a mate. Even on Hothrest, his prospects had been doubtful. Their females were few, and he had been too rash and too outspoken. The Elders of his tribe kept their precious daughters away from him. At the time, he had not considered it a loss, and he had accepted that he would spend his life alone. For the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have someone in his life. He already knew he would miss this female when she was gone.
He would have to decide what his future path would be as well. He didn’t anticipate remaining on Hothrest—that ice bridge had collapsed long ago. Neither did he wish to return to fighting, but what else was he good for?
The thought of fighting reminded him that he needed to make arrangements to complete his contracted number of matches over the coming week. Ignoring his unusual melancholy at the thought of the future, he carried his female into the bedroom and tucked her beneath the covers. She murmured something as he put her down, and her hand clung to him, but then she sighed and settled down. Foolishly, he stood there watching her sleep. If he was reluctant to leave her now, how much worse was it going to be when she was no longer his to protect? Shaking his head, he forced himself to return to the living room to start setting up the fights.
“I don’t understand,” Mehexip complained the next day as he scurried along at Baralt’s side. “Why did you have me set up this fight? And the one later in the week? They are low-ranking fighters. Your fee for the match is barely above the minimum payment.”
“Are you concerned that your percentage is too small?” He turned to confront the smaller male directly.
“No, no, not at all.” Mehexip paled at the anger in Baralt’s voice, turning a sickly shade of yellow. “It is just that we—you—have spent a lot of time building up your reputation, and these fights will do nothing to enhance it.” He looked around nervously, then lowered his voice. “There are rumors that you are no longer…capable.”
Baralt snorted and resumed the walk to the arena. What would Mehexip think if he knew Baralt was also scheduling late-night matches with some of the slave fighters? Of course, it was entirely possible that he would find out. The fight pit really was a hotbed of gossip. While he was not overly concerned about Mehexip’s reaction, he hoped he could keep everything quiet until it was time to leave.
“I assure you that my fighting skills are undamaged,” he growled even though it was not entirely true. The damage he had done to his knee in the death match continued to bother him.
“Of course,” Mehexip said hastily. “I didn’t mean that I had doubts. It’s just that I have heard other people speculate.”
“Let them speculate.”
“Whatever you say. But we could take advantage of the rumors. A small bet, perhaps?”
“You know that I don’t gamble on my fights.”
Mehexip ducked his head in acknowledgment but not before Baralt saw the speculation in the other male’s eyes. Oh well. He supposed he couldn’t begrudge his agent his last chance to make money off Baralt.
The tunnel brightened as the sunlight reflecting off the sands of the arena poured through the open doors. He could hear the noise of the crowd and smell the lingering traces of blood and death. This was all so familiar to him now. What would it be like to return to the icy cold and the barren landscape of Hothrest? Even after all these years, part of him still longed for the silence of the snowy mountains. But for now, he had a fight to win, and he pushed aside his memories and stepped into the arena.
Izzie paced nervously. It was ridiculous to be worried about Baralt. She had seen him fight, and she couldn’t imagine anyone capable of defeating him. And yet she hated knowing that he had gone to fight a match for her sake—a match that he had chosen to fight simply so that he could escort her off this terrible planet.
The door alarm sounded, and she jumped. No one had visited them since Relkhei had left except for an odious little alien who had come to escort Baralt to the fight. He had eyed her in a way that had made her feel unclean until Baralt had noticed and ordered him not to look at her. He really was a sweetheart.
After her second nap the previous day, they had spent the rest of the time
