“Computer?” I followed up. “Why are you saying I am not Dax’s mate?”
What is wrong with me?
Moments ago, I had been determined to convince Dax that I was not his mate. Now all I wanted to know what why the computer said I wasn’t.
Ugh. This alien catman is making me insane.
I pushed against his chest and wiggled out of his grasp. He let me go, his expression abstracted as he moved to the console at the front of the room and began tapping in information—trying, I assumed, to figure out why the computer had suddenly announced that I was not his mate.
Chapter Twelve
Dax
“What the flark do you mean, she’s not my mate?” I demanded again.
“The recent malfunctions in my data core led to a misidentification of your potential mate.” Somehow, the computer’s voice sounded even more neutral than usual. I leaned over and pulled Nora close again, drawing in the scent of her hair.
Everything about her screamed at me that she belonged to me. She was mine.
My inner beast snarled in agreement.
“What does that mean, that I was misidentified?” Nora asked.
I noted that she didn’t try to wriggle away again.
“The Earth female with you at the moment of our arrival is Commander Dax’s actual mate.”
“I knew it,” Nora muttered. “Of course it was the skinny blonde. It’s always the skinny ones.”
“The other one?” My voice rose in something between astonishment and horror. “That one was too thin. She would never be able to carry a Drovekzian offspring.”
Nora slapped my arms away from her. “Carry your offspring? Is that your only criterion?”
I decided it would probably be best if I did not tell her I had considered taking them both as mates.
My inner cat chuffed in amused agreement.
“The possibility of healthy offspring with Nora Marlin is 83.7%. That is a 10% lower reproductive rate than would be possible with your true mate.”
I’ll take those odds.
Nora continued her line of questioning doggedly. “What other criteria are you using to choose a mate?”
“I did not think you even wanted to be here,” I pointed out.
“I didn’t.” She spun away from me, her fluffy white drapery flaring out, then settling back down around her ankles as she stood with her back to me, arms crossed over her chest, her body language a clear dismissal.
But I did not intend to accept that dismissal. Slowly, I walked around her, and tilted her chin up with my knuckle. She blinked rapidly, but one tear escaped her brimming eyes.
“If you don’t want to be my mate, why does the thought of rejection make you cry?” Gently, I wiped the tear away from her cheek.
Nora jerked her chin out of my hand. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not sad. I’m just… angry.” She made an inarticulate noise and stamped her foot. “I am so damn tired of losing everything. This has been a horrible day at the end of a terrible week, and I am ready for it to be over.”
“Horrible day?” I didn’t want to make my mate cry. And no matter what the computer said, she was my mate.
I waited, hoping she would tell me everything. Soon enough, my patience was rewarded.
“I lost my job,” she muttered. “I basically got jilted at the altar.” Her voice rose. “I can’t move back into my old apartment. And then I got kidnapped by a green freaking tiger alien and taken off into space and attacked by some horrific rhinoceros space-monsters.” Her words began to run together toward the end, culminating in a great, shuddering sob.
With a wail, she threw herself into my arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Nora
I didn’t intend to start crying—and I certainly had no plans of throwing myself into Dax’s arms if I did.
Yet I found myself sobbing as he wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair comfortingly. He murmured soft alien words that weren’t automatically translated for me.
When my weeping storm subsided, I pulled away from him, glancing around for something to wipe my tears. In the end, I shrugged and lifted the top layer of chiffon in my skirt.
This wedding dress is trashed, anyway. Whatever.
Dax took me over to one of the oversized seats at the console, then sat down in another chair across from me. He leaned forward, keeping my hands in his. Next to his, my fingers looked like they belonged to a child’s hand.
“Would you like me to take you back to your planet?” he asked solemnly, his giant green eyes staring to mine intently.
I was shocked into silence. Was this gorgeous, infuriating, giant tiger-man alien really asking me what I wanted? He struck me as more domineering than that—but his tone suggested he meant it.
Pausing for a long, silent moment, I considered my options. When I finally spoke, my words came out haltingly. “I don’t have anything there.”
“Would you like to come with me?”
“The computer said we weren’t a match,” I reminded him.
Dax laughed. “If you choose to become my mate, we have more than an eighty-three percent chance of having a child together.” He shrugged. “That is a higher reproductive rate than any mate I could find on my planet. And should we decide to have offspring, our scientists could help us ensure that any children were strong and healthy.”
This is insane, Nora. It would be the reboundiest of all rebound relationships ever in the history of … well, of everything ever.
And yet… part of me wanted to go with him.
I had not been exaggerating when I said I had nothing left. William had convinced me to get rid of practically all my old friends. They didn’t fit in, he had said.
Of course, he ignored the fact that I didn’t fit in, either—more than once, I wondered why he chose me at all. It was no wonder our relationship ended like it did.
All of those issues also applied to this strange cat shifter alien who was now
