Scowling, he turned away.
This….helpfulness went on for the whole day.
And it was irritating. So much so, he found himself hardly working and spying on her instead.
When she wasn’t talking to the animals and giving them “cuddles” and “rubs,” she was feeding them or cleaning their enclosures.
She was all around his Sanctuary, so much so he swore even the robots cutting the fields stopped to notice her.
And Grot, Grot who usually spent his time roaming the fields, was by her side the entire time, loving the name “doggo”—which she seemed intent on calling him.
It irked him and he didn’t know why.
And even though a part of him was impressed with her hard work and dedication—just a tiny part of him, like maybe just a few cells—he couldn’t help but scowl anyway.
He knew she’d said she intended on helping out, he just hadn’t expected her to actually lift a finger.
He lived on a Sanctuary with dirty animals, not a tourist resort. It wasn’t the type of place a female, or anyone really, would pick for employment or enjoyment.
Which female enjoyed getting dirty and sweaty in the hot sun?
None.
Well…at least, that’s what he’d thought.
Talking about sweaty, Riv ducked behind a wall as the human appeared from around the corner of a building.
Her tunic was stuck to her chest because of her own sweat and it only outlined parts of her that he shouldn’t see.
Phek it.
The tunic curved around those large teats on her chest, outlining them with such precision, he didn’t know if he should be delighted or horrified by the fact that he couldn’t stop staring.
Frowning, he willed his eyes away and headed to his hovercar. It was parked far away from the main lodge and far away from her.
Far, far away.
It needed tuning or something.
By the time evening came, nothing had changed.
Unwanted thoughts of his unwanted guest were still plaguing his mind and he forced himself to keep tuning the hover vehicle long into the dark-cycle.
When he finally slid from underneath the air-compression engine, his back ached from being in one position for so long.
Rubbing the tendons in his shoulders, he headed into the dwelling.
She should be asleep by now. That meant there would be no chitchatting. No big brown eyes. No urge to be amicable.
Sure enough, when he entered the main room, she was nowhere to be seen, but the smell of flowers filled the entire room as if she’d gone and writhed naked against every free surface.
Riv inhaled deeply.
He was about to walk past the table when he spotted it—a bowl of rai and braised meat.
He stopped breathing.
She’d cooked again, for him?
After working all day?
Something within him cracked.
He didn’t know if he should sit and eat or walk away and leave it there. Surely the latter would push her further away. Taking any of her kindness was surely equivalent to encouraging bad behaviour.
It was like training an animal not to do a certain action but rewarding it when it did anyway.
Scratching the back of his neck, he glared at the meal.
Two home-cooked meals in such a short time. This didn’t feel like his house. It felt like he’d walked unwittingly into another dimension where his other self had things better.
“That’s yours.” The female appeared at the doorway to the corridor, her voice a bit raspy with sleep.
Riv swallowed hard.
“Tried to keep it warm but didn’t want to keep using the stove. Don’t know if it’s gas you use or what. I didn’t want to waste it. Should be okay to eat but I can warm it for you, if you like.”
She walked forward, wobbling a bit, obviously exhausted, and reached for the bowl.
As she did, her flowery scent attacked his nostrils with a new, strong wave.
For some reason, it pissed him off; it pissed him off well and truly, but not in the usual way.
He wasn’t pissed at her. He was suddenly pissed at himself.
Grasping her arm, he stopped her from walking past him, and she stumbled against him instead, her chest pressing into his side.
That wasn’t the right move, for now he could feel every phekking contour of her figure. Her softness. Her curves. Her phekking teats.
“Why are you doing this?” he snarled, very aware that he sounded furious but the range of his vocal cords were not his concern.
She was confusing him, making him…think about things. Making him want things he shouldn’t.
“Doing what?”
Innocent brown eyes looked up at him as the human blinked.
“Human—”
“Lauren. My name is Lauren. Please stop calling me ‘human,’” she mocked his tone, her eyes rolling back into her head as she did.
Riv paused.
That wasn’t what he sounded like.
He didn’t sound like that at all.
“It makes me feel…like a dog or something,” she continued before glancing at Grot, who’d padded in behind her. “Sorry, doggo, no offense.”
Riv glared at her.
His anger seemed to be having no effect on her and that only made him more pissed.
Beings bent to his will from his pure ferocity and this human was ignoring the fact his fangs were bared right above her.
Forcing her against him some more so she had to tilt her head and look up at him, he growled into her face. “Stop.”
La-rehn blinked, her brown gaze moving over his face slowly only to land on his lips.
It was then he realized he wasn’t wearing his messhi and they were close, close enough for her breath to brush over his skin.
“Stop what?” Her voice was breathless.
Phek.
Stop being so…he didn’t know what.
Releasing her suddenly, he stormed into the corridor on the way to his room. Leaning against the wall, he ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath.
Phek the favor he owed Geblit. The Torian needed to come get his human.
Pulling out his sat phone, he punched in Geblit’s ping code. It took three tries before Geblit finally answered.
“Geblit.”
“Riv. H-how great to hear from you.”
“Spare me the phekking formalities. I’m bringing the human to you tomorrow.”
“What? No. You can’t do that!”
“You’re
