I’m cooking the meat when Ivy opens the door, peeking out at me. She has wrapped a fur around herself after her bath, and I attempt to wrench my eyes away from the drop of water that winds down her neck and into her cleavage.
“Do you have something I can wear?” she asks. “These pajamas are rags.”
I slide the meat onto plates and nod, getting to my feet. Within moments I’ve found a shirt that she will be able to wear until I can return her to Rakiz. She sends me a grateful smile as I hand the shirt to her, and I wait for her by the fire.
“This looks delicious,” she says as I hand her a plate.
I nod, and we eat in silence while I carefully keep my eyes off her bare legs.
“Why were your clothes so torn?” I ask finally. Her pants were little more than scraps of material, rising well above her knees.
“I thought it would help the others find us,” she says, her mouth twisting. “But I’m guessing they didn’t look.” She raises her eyes to mine. “Thank you for helping me,” she says, her voice low.
If I were an honorable male, I would tell this female that her friends did look for her. That one of them is now a tribe queen who convinced her mate to bargain with me to find her. But still I am unwilling to admit to this female that she is just another assignment. That her safety means another favor owed to me by one of the tribe kings on this planet.
This female believes that I am honorable. I find myself unable to destroy her illusions of me so quickly.
“Mmm, this is good,” she says, and I ignore the burst of pride that her words cause. A female can sneak under a male’s defenses before he is even aware of it, with her sweet words and soft skin. I’ve seen this happen before.
If a male is not careful, he will find himself forever changed by the female in question, without ever being truly conscious of how it happened.
“Man of few words, huh?”
I raise my head and catch the amusement in her eyes, the hint of a smirk playing around her mouth.
“I…apologize. I am unused to conversation.”
Her eyes soften, and I have to look away.
“That wasn’t a dig. I think most of us fantasize about escaping to a remote cabin at some point in our lives.”
I nod and take another bite, not at all surprised when the female continues talking.
“You mentioned someone who will send more warriors to help us. How do you know him?”
“He is a tribe king.”
“A tribe king?”
“He rules over other Braxians. They live together in a camp.”
I raise my head, and she’s gazing at me curiously, obviously waiting for me to continue. I shift, and this time, I can’t control my wince as the pain almost blinds me.
“We can talk later,” she says. “That arm needs to be in a sling. I can help with that. I’ve got some training.”
I nod. Truthfully, I know the bone needs to be stabilized. I get to my feet.
“I will bathe first.”
Ivy
I’m a red-blooded woman.
And most red-blooded women would agree: the sound of Vrex splashing in water is a special kind of torture.
I’ve never been attracted to the cute guys. To the white-collar guys with soft hands and pretty mouths. Vrex, with his huge body and “don’t fuck with me” attitude is about as far from one of those guys as I can get.
That’s not to mean that I’m going to do anything about it.
Just that I’m tempted.
Real tempted.
Vrex opens the door, and I swallow with an audible gulp. I can’t help it. My mouth practically waters at the sight of him with his shirt off. He has the strangest blue-green pattern on his skin, across his shoulders and the top of his chest. I open my mouth to ask him about it, but my gaze is caught by the pendant hanging from a long string tied around his neck. It catches the light, the gold practically glowing in the flicker from the fire.
“That’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“It was my mother’s. She made jewelry.”
“You got your talent from her.”
His chest is a work of art. His shoulders are huge, and I unashamedly let my eyes trail over his pecs, his eight-pack, and down to the V that points to the promised land.
He’s wrapped a fur around his waist, and his arm is awkwardly held in front of him. His eyes heat as I meet them, and I feel a bolt of triumph. The robot is affected by me.
He’s also looking even paler, pain clear on his face.
Wow, Ivy, way to perv on the injured guy.
I jump to my feet, gesturing for him to sit down. He complies, and I carefully attempt to avoid glancing down at where the fur has parted.
Jeez. Bruce and I occasionally watch rugby at his favorite Irish pub. He watches for the sport, while I unashamedly watch for the men. And Vrex has just revealed a set of huge thighs more impressive than any rugby player’s.
I move into his bedroom and hunt through his chest until I find a piece of cloth that will work as a sling.
“Do you have any painkillers?”
Vrex frowns at me. “Painkillers?” he repeats in English, although the word comes out slurred as he attempts to speak my language.
“Something you can take to make it less painful?”
He shakes his head.
“Jeez,” I mutter. “I’m starting to feel a whole lot of gratitude for the stuff I left behind on Earth.”
“Earth?”
“That’s the name of my planet,” I say, stepping forward to slide the makeshift sling beneath his elbow.
He nods, his jaw hardening as I gently wrap the material around his elbow in an attempt to provide some support.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it hurts.”
Another sharp nod.
I carefully move
