H’ZIM

HOW THE ALIENS WERE WON

HONEY PHILLIPS

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

Kara stood at the window of her room, looking out at the dusty main street below. The setting sun was bathing everything in shades of rose gold, giving the two-story buildings lining each side of the street a magical glow. Beyond them she could just make out the ridge of the mountains rising in the distance. The town looked so calm and peaceful, exactly what she’d hoped to find, and yet…

Before she could delve further into the reason for her doubts she spotted Lucas Trask striding down the street, his dark hair slicked back and a smug look on his face. She knew that look all too well—the one that said he was convinced he was going to get what he wanted. Her hands tightened on the window sill before she stood a quick step back from the glass, but she kept a wary eye on him as he paused outside the boarding house.

He scanned the facade as if searching for something—or someone—and her heart skipped a beat. Did he know she was here? She ducked behind the tattered lace curtain, eyeing his calculating expression. What did he want now? Was this another attempt to cajole her into his bed? She’d hoped he’d given up, but she should have known he wasn’t the type to give up easily.

He stepped up on the wooden sidewalk, out of her view, but his disappearance was immediately followed by a hard, peremptory knock on the door below. She instinctively crossed to her own door, checking the warped doorknob to reassure herself it was still locked. While she’d done her best to make it clear she wasn’t interested, Lucas didn’t take no for an answer. The memory of his condescending smile and grasping hands still made her skin crawl.

Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as she strained to hear the muffled conversation from downstairs. The words “thief” and “stole” drifted up, and her heart sank. His voice dripped with malice, and she was afraid she knew exactly what he was trying to do. The boarding house’s old floors creaked beneath her feet as she crept out onto the landing, listening to the exchange between Lucas and her landlady, Mrs. Hargrove.

“…a valuable family heirloom,” he was saying, his tone full of righteous indignation. “I specifically remember Kara admiring it at the gathering last week. She must have seen an opportunity and—”

Her face flashed hot with anger, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she peered down at the two people in the front hall. Mrs. Hargrove was a kind older woman, but would she believe Lucas’s lies? The landlady’s expression, usually warm and welcoming, had turned uncertain, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Trask,” Mrs. Hargrove said, her voice hesitant. “Miss Dalton has always been a respectable boarder… but if you’re certain—”

“Respectable?” Lucas gave a cold, mirthless laugh. “You don’t know the girl, Mrs. Hargrove. She’s been trouble since the day she arrived in Wainwright. Mark my words, she’ll bring ruin to this town if you don’t keep a close eye on her.”

Her nails dug into her palms as she fought the urge to storm downstairs and confront him. She was afraid that confronting him would only play into his hands, giving him exactly the reaction he was angling for. But oh, how she wanted to defend herself, to shout her innocence to the rooftops.

Instead, she crept back to her room, the gentle creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet like a sigh of resignation. The dimly lit space seemed to close in around her, the shadows like dark tentacles reaching out to snatch her last thread of hope.

As she slumped onto the bed, her eyes darted around the small room. She’d tried to make it her sanctuary, the home she so desperately wanted, but the bunch of wildflowers in a jar on the small table and the colorful patchwork quilt on the narrow bed weren’t enough to overcome the general air of fading grandeur. The once-pretty wallpaper was beginning to peel, and the flowered carpet on the floor was faded and worn. At least Mrs. Hargrove kept it spotlessly clean.

How fitting that such a sad little room should be all she had to show for her hopes of a new start in Wainwright. Not that she’d expected luxury—she knew the small town wasn’t exactly prosperous—but she’d at least hoped for friendship. Instead, she’d encountered a distinct reserve whenever she’d approached the other women in town. At first she’d put it down to the fact that she’d only arrived in town two months ago. But after Lucas started pursuing her, she was afraid that he’d spread his poison throughout the town, and now it looked like he would finally succeed in chasing her away.

Her gaze drifted to the small worn trunk in the corner, its weathered surface a testament to the countless times it had been lugged from one place to another. Her eyes stung as memories flooded her mind—the series of foster homes after her parents died, each more inhospitable than the last, where she’d been shuffled from one temporary family to another like a pawn in a game of mercy. The jobs that paid just enough to survive, but never enough to thrive. The endless uncertainty that had dogged her every step.

And yet, despite it all, she had managed to maintain hope, a belief that somewhere out there was a place where she would belong. She’d desperately hoped that Wainwright would be that place, a chance to leave the past behind and forge a new path. But now, with Lucas’s accusations hanging over her, that chance was slipping through her fingers.

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks—crying wasn’t going to solve anything—and kneeled in front of the trunk, her fingers finding comfort in the familiar contours. A few precious belongings were nestled inside—a faded photograph of her parents, a tattered diary, a silver locket given to her by a kind-hearted teacher. Tokens of a few brief happy moments, of the kind of life she’d never really known but had always longed for.

The sound of Mrs. Hargrove’s hesitant voice broke the spell, and she forced her mind back to the present. What would the landlady do? Would she believe Lucas’s lies? Kara had always done her best to be polite and friendly—and to pay her rent on time—but she was still a stranger in town and Lucas had a lot of influence.

I can’t take that chance. I have to get out of town.

She couldn’t carry the trunk for any distance. She would have to leave it behind. Fighting back the urge to cry, she pulled out her worn leather satchel instead and started throwing things into it. Her hands threatened to tremble as she cinched the leather straps tight, then closed the trunk, the familiar creak of the old wood a bitter reminder of all she was leaving behind. The faint scent of lavender wafted up, transporting her back to the comfort of her childhood blankets, but there was no time for nostalgia now.

Taking a deep breath, she slung the satchel over her shoulder and opened the window that overlooked the alley. Outside, the wooden siding creaked beneath her fingers as she cautiously climbed down. She’d climbed down these walls before, escaping into the night when the loneliness became too much to bear.

As she descended, Lucas’s muffled voice drifted from the hallway, his words indistinguishable but his anger palpable. Mrs. Hargrove’s hesitant responses were lost beneath his strident voice, but she didn’t linger to eavesdrop. She made her way quickly down the alley, the cool evening air enveloping her like a shroud.

Wainwright was a small town—only a few streets lay between her and the open countryside. The streets were mainly residential, the lights already on inside the houses as families gathered for their evening meals. She should be grateful that no one was around to spot her flight through the gathering dusk. Instead, she cast them an envious glance, swallowing hard against the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her.

There was no point in regretting what might have been. She needed to focus on staying one step ahead of Lucas. The sun disappeared below the horizon as she reached the outskirts of town and the surrounding countryside swallowed her whole. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare, her eyes fixed on the horizon as she fled Wainwright and Lucas’s poisonous accusations. The only sound was the soft crunch of her boots on the dry grass, a counterpoint to the pounding of her heart.

When she reached the tree line, she paused, panting, and listened to the night. The distant chirp of some night insect, the rustle of leaves—no sound of pursuit. Not yet, at least. She wasn’t sure how far he was prepared to go, but she’d learned long ago not to underestimate a vindictive man.

The first of Cresca’s two moons began to rise, allowing her enough light to see her way. Taking a deep breath, she started walking again, the weight of her satchel bumping against her hip. She was determined to get as far away from Wainwright as possible before morning.

By the time the sun rose, she was exhausted, her feet aching from the hours spent stumbling over rocks despite the moonlight. Her legs trembled from the strain, her arms tight and sore from gripping the satchel strap. The land had been opening up for some time, the trees disappearing and replaced by wide stretches of what appeared to have been farmland at one time. The open ground made her uneasy and she headed for a small patch of woods instead.

As she pushed through the thick underbrush between the trees, an old farmhouse materialized before her, its weathered wooden boards seeming to sag beneath the weight of years. She paused at the edge of the clearing, but the house was clearly abandoned, the roof sagging and the porch cluttered with leaves and branches. She hesitated, then her leaden legs stumbled towards the crooked porch.

She dropped her satchel on the creaking planks, the sound echoing through the morning stillness like a gunshot as she studied the house. The once-white paint had long since peeled, revealing the grey wood beneath, like the skin of some ancient, diseased creature.

The front door hung askew, its hinges worn, creaking softly in the gentle morning breeze. Her hand closed around the rusty door handle, the metal still reassuringly solid despite the rust, and managed to wrestle the door open. The air inside was stale and musty, but the space was also dry and sheltered—a refuge, no matter how temporary.

Her footsteps echoed off the worn wooden floors as she explored. The living room was a jumble of old furniture, some pieces overturned, others propped against the walls as if their owners had simply vanished in mid-stride. On one wall a stone fireplace yawned like an empty mouth, a rusty grate hanging crookedly within.

She discovered a dusty old armchair, its upholstery frayed and worn, and dropped into it, ignoring the cloud of dust as her exhaustion-cramped muscles relaxed into its worn contours. For a moment she simply sat, her eyes closed, the silence oddly comforting.

As her breathing steadied she studied the room, taking in the stains where photographs had once adorned the walls and the faded floral curtains that hung like limp flags. This was someone’s past, abandoned, forgotten—like her own. The thought created a fragile sense of solidarity, of kinship with the unknown former occupants of this forsaken place.

The stillness of the abandoned farmhouse seeped into her bones as she sat, calming the turbulent muddle of her thoughts, her tired brain slowly grasping the reality of her situation. She was alone, truly alone, for the first time in her life. No foster parents, no landlords, no employer—and no Lucas Trasks looming over her shoulder, waiting to pounce.

But as she sat in the silence, something within her began to shift. The weight of her past, the accumulated burdens of her foster homes and dead-end jobs, started to lift, ever so slightly. It was as if this abandoned farmhouse, with its air of neglect and decay, was somehow releasing her from the grip of her own despair.

Finally she stood, her joints creaking in protest, and wandered into the kitchen. The air was stale here too and the faucet didn’t work, but there was a rusty old pump next to the sink as well, its wooden handle worn smooth from use. She worked the handle and a moment later water came rushing out, the sound unexpectedly loud in the surrounding silence. She drank thirstily, then splashed water over her face, the cool liquid cleansing her parched skin and washing away the grime of her journey.

Water dripped from her chin as she straightened, her eyes roving over the kitchen. An old wooden table, scarred and gouged, dominated the center of the room. She ran her fingers over the marks, feeling an inexplicable connection to the unknown people who’d laughed, argued, and loved around this very table. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt a spark of belonging—fragile perhaps, but real.

CHAPTER 2

H’zim’s massive frame lurched forward as the flyer came to a bumpy landing, jolting him out of his brooding. His brother S’kal shot him a concerned glance, but he ignored him. He didn’t want to be here. He’d had every intention of remaining in Port Cantor until he’d taken his revenge against everyone responsible for his false imprisonment. Instead, he’d let S’kal talk him into coming here.

His brother seemed to think that getting away from the city meant he would leave the memories of the past three years behind. He was wrong. They still lingered, festering like an open wound. He’d finally agreed to accompany S’kal because he could plot just as easily at a more remote location—and perhaps, just a little, because of the worry in his brother’s eyes. Even though he’d barely spoken a word to S’kal while he was in prison, his brother had visited him anyway.

The flyer had landed in a clearing in front of a dilapidated farmhouse, its wooden boards weathered to a soft gray. He looked beyond the house to the overgrown fields and the sagging barn and shook his head. The farm was one of a cluster of farms that had been acquired by a previous owner who had been more interested in expanding his holdings than actually putting the land to use.

Commander Temel, the leader of the squad to which he and his brother had been assigned during the war, had purchased the property with the intention of providing homes for warriors still struggling with the aftermath of that long, terrible war. Restoring the farm to working order would be a formidable challenge—if he’d had any intention of doing so. He intended to use his time making plans for his return to Port Cantor.

S’kal climbed out of the flyer, his shoulders tense, and gave him an unhappy look.

“H’zim, are you sure you want to live out here? My mate and I would be happy to share our home with you. Or you could at least take one of the farms closer to the main house so you wouldn’t be alone.”

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together.

“I want to be alone. That was my condition for accompanying you.”

He’d not only chosen the most remote farm available, he’d also made his brother promise not to visit him—mostly because he didn’t want his brother mixed up in his schemes. The fact that his brother was now happily mated was another reason. Although he was genuinely happy for his brother, he couldn’t stand the thought of being constantly reminded with what he could never have.

His brother’s face twisted in a mixture of frustration and concern.

“I only want to help. You’re still hurting—”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice cracking across the clearing like thunder. “Just leave me be.”

Something flashed across S’kal’s face that he couldn’t read, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into the flyer and handed H’zim the bags of supplies they’d purchased in Port Cantor.

“If you change your mind, turn left on the track in front of the farm, then right when you reach the larger road. The main farm is about a mile and a half down that road. Temel and his mate live in the big farmhouse. Evie and I live in the converted cider mill in the orchard beyond it.”

Not only a mate, but a home, a community… Even though he’d fought with their squad, he’d never fit in as well as S’kal had done. The reminder only firmed his determination to remain alone.

He took the bags, clenching his fist around them.

“I won’t change my mind.”

S’kal sighed, then turned and climbed back onto the flyer. He hesitated in the door opening for a moment, then shot a look back over his shoulder, a hint of a smile on his face.

“You know I’ll be back to check on you the second the month is up.”

The month’s isolation had also been part of their agreement. He probably should have insisted on a longer period, but he knew his brother would have balked at the notion—and to be fair, a part of him also wanted to see his brother. He dipped his head in acknowledgment, S’kal took his seat in the flyer, sketched a wave, and departed.

He watched the flyer as it disappeared over the trees, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Even though he’d been the one who had insisted on the restrictions, he felt unexpectedly abandoned. The silence felt oppressive, weighing on him like a physical force. He took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs with the scent of fertile soil and growing things.

The scent was foreign and familiar all at once, reminding him of the endless work of planting crops on the small holding his family had leased. He’d hated it then—and the idea still didn’t appeal to him—but perhaps the physical work involved in cultivating the land would provide a distraction. The irony didn’t escape him. The lease on their family’s land had ended with his parents’ deaths, and he and S’kal had joined the Alliance forces, looking for adventure and a passage off world. And now he was a farmer once again.

As he looked at the empty sky where his brother had vanished, another pang of regret pricked at his chest, but he resolutely pushed it aside. He couldn’t afford to feel, not yet. The wounds of his past still ached, making it hard to be around his brother, around anyone. He turned his back on the memory of S’kal’s concerned face and focused on his new surroundings.

The clearing surrounding the rundown house was a choked tangle of weeds and wildflowers, but he could see the potential to make it into an attractive homeplace. The overgrown fields beyond also showed the promise of future prosperity. The distant mountains had a rugged beauty that soothed his battered soul. The only sounds were the soft sigh of the breeze and the distant chirp of a bird. He took another breath and let the silence settle around him, no longer oppressive but peaceful—a soothing contrast to the cacophony of his memories.

He circled the house, studying every nook and cranny. Despite the neglect it had suffered, it confirmed his opinion that it could be restored. He could work with this, make it his own…

No. He was not staying here. S’kal thought that time away from the city would help him heal. He knew better, but he intended to use the time to determine the best way to get his revenge on those responsible for his unjustified prison stint.

His gaze strayed to the distant mountains again as he walked up onto the porch and dropped his bags. As he leaned against a crooked post, he thought of all the years he’d spent fighting alongside the other members of the squad. He’d always chafed at rules, especially the stupid ones that seemed designed to get them all killed. More than once his rebellious streak had landed him in trouble, but he’d do whatever it took to get the job done, even if it meant bending—or breaking—the rules.

After the war he’d thought he’d left that recklessness behind, but even though the war had ended, the shadows lingered over all of them. None of them had had an easy time settling into civilian life. He knew that was why Temel had eventually come up with the plan to take over the farms and provide a place where they could find peace, but it had come too late for him.

His restlessness had led him into trouble—and into the arms of the female who had betrayed him. He’d never made the mistake of thinking there was anything permanent between them, but he’d trusted her and she’d used that trust to set him up, landing him in a Port Cantor prison cell. He’d spent months in that cell, replaying every moment, every conversation, wondering how he could have been so stupid. Eventually he had decided that she had probably been little more than a pawn—a suspicion that had been confirmed by his early release.

His skin crawled at the memory but he pushed it aside, determined to concentrate on the present. But the past refused to let him go, the need for revenge burning like a fire in his belly. They had taken everything from him—his freedom, his reputation, his brother’s trust. Now it was time for them to pay the price.

“That’s what I need,” he muttered to himself. “Revenge. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He pushed open the creaky door, expecting to find the interior of the farmhouse as bad as the exterior. Ragged curtains covered the front windows, but despite the dimness he could see that the inside was in far better shape. The wooden floors had been scrubbed clean and the minimal furniture was worn but tidy, its surface free of dust.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the unexpected neatness. His brother had said the farm had been abandoned for some time, left to rot. But this… this looked like someone had been taking care of the place. Could S’kal have had it cleaned in preparation for his arrival? He considered, then discarded the idea. Not only had S’kal not had time to arrange it, why wouldn’t he have said something? And why wouldn’t whoever had cleaned the place also have cleared away the blown leaves and branches on the porch and opened the curtains?

He tensed as the faint sound of singing drifted into the room, a soft, melodious voice that seemed to be coming from the back of the house. He padded silently in that direction, through a kitchen that was equally clean and tidy to a closed door at the far end. His hand closed around the doorknob, hesitating for a moment before he turned it.

Curtains also covered the bathroom window, and the singing filled his head as his eyes adjusted to the dim light within. A woman sat in the tub, her red hair piled high on her head, her eyes closed as she sang. Steam rose from the water, carrying the scent of soap and cleanliness and a delicious underlying sweetness that had to come from her.

His gaze snagged on her curves, his mind stuttering as he took in the sight of that lush flesh, flushed and glowing from the warmth of the water. For a moment he forgot to breathe. S’kal had obviously been wrong when he said the farmhouse was abandoned. There was a woman, a human woman, sitting in his tub.

As he stood there, frozen in surprise, his mind kicked back into gear and suspicion crawled up his spine, his gut twisting with unease. What was she doing here, and how did she end up in his house? Had she been sent to betray him too? The thought stung, a familiar pain blooming in his chest. He’d thought he was done with that kind of treachery, but it seemed he was wrong.

His jaw clenched as he took a step forward.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Her eyes flew open, huge and brown and startled. For a moment they just stared at each other, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the tub. Then her face went pale and she sat up, water sloshing around her as she threw her arm over her chest—which only enhanced the already luscious swell of her breasts.

His gaze followed the movement, focusing on those tempting curves before he jerked his attention back to her face.

“Get out of my house,” he growled.

He expected her to cower away from him. Instead, her eyes flashed as she lifted her chin, a spark of defiance in their depths.

“I was here first.”

CHAPTER 3

As Kara sank deeper into the warm water, she let out a contented sigh. Usually she settled for a quick wash with a basin of warm water by the stove, but once a week or so she took the trouble to heat up the multiple pails of water required to fill the tub for a proper bath. The warmth soaked into her tired muscles as she relaxed.

Surviving out here on her own for the past few months had been a challenge, but she’d managed. Getting the house clean and tidy again hadn’t required any great skill, but the variety of jobs and foster homes she’d had in the past meant she also had a number of other useful skills. She knew how to light a woodstove and how to sew, how to set a snare and how to fish. She knew how to cook, although her supplies were limited at best.

Fortunately, as spring had turned into summer she’d been able to forage for food in the surrounding woods and fields. She’d even found the descendants of vegetables planted by the previous owner and carefully cultivated them, although she’d been equally careful to leave a screen of weeds in place.

Even though she’d never seen anyone approach the farmhouse, she’d made every effort to keep her presence a secret. She kept all of the curtains closed, even though she longed to throw them open to the sun, and didn’t make any changes to the exterior of the building. Despite that, she’d turned this abandoned farmhouse into a cozy refuge. It was a fragile existence, but it was hers, and for the first time in many years, she felt as if she had a home.

But despite everything she’d managed to accomplish, she couldn’t escape the loneliness. She missed the comfort of human connection, the ease of shared laughter and conversation. She’d even resorted to spying on the other farms. Several of them were occupied by alien males—an unusual sight outside of Port Cantor and a few of the larger cities—but they went about their business the same as any human. And several of them had human wives.

What would that be like, she wondered. To have one of those big males treating her so protectively?

Given that her experience with human males had been less than satisfactory, the idea of an alien husband seemed even less promising, but the couples had seemed happy enough. She liked watching them, but she’d been discovered once by a small boy who’d decided she must be a fairy. She’d gone along with it, enjoying his excitement, and had given him one of the coins from the small stash she’d brought with her, smiling as he danced away.

But the encounter had made her realize how easily she could be discovered and she’d reluctantly stopped visiting the other farms. Now she had only herself for company. During the day it wasn’t bad, but in the stillness of the evening, the only sounds were the soft whirr of insects and the creaks of the old house, and it was a heavy silence.

Suddenly conscious of the quiet surrounding her now, she began to sing softly, a song her mother used to sing to her. Leaning back against the side of the tub, she closed her eyes and let herself recall those distant happy memories. She didn’t realize she was no longer alone until a harsh voice growled at her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Her eyes snapped open, the song dying on her lips as she took in the towering figure looming in the doorway. A huge green-skinned alien, his massive frame filled the entire space, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath catch. A scar cut across his cheek beneath his eye and more criss crossed his arms—his huge muscular arms—like a topographic map of battles fought and won. She should be terrified, and she was, but there was also an odd flutter in her chest, a spark of attraction that she couldn’t explain.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as his gaze narrowed, his voice like thunder in the small room.

“Get out of my house.”

His words dripped with hostility, and her heart raced but she refused to let him intimidate her. This was her home now, her sanctuary. She wouldn’t let this stranger chase her away without a fight. She started to sit up straighter and belatedly remembered that she was naked, automatically trying to cover her breasts even though her arm didn’t provide much of a shield.

“I was here first.”

“I don’t give a fuck. It’s my house.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said, somehow managing to keep her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands. “I thought it was abandoned.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes seemed to bore deeper into hers.

“Now you know. So leave.”

“I’m not ready to leave,” she said stubbornly, lifting her chin.

He didn’t move but somehow his presence seemed to grow, seeming to suck all of the air from the room. Her throat grew tight as she struggled to draw breath.

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you to go.”

The threat was clear but she refused to back down, even as she shrank against the back of the tub, the water cooling against her skin.

“Or what? Are you going to h-hurt me?”

Despite her best efforts, her voice trembled and his frown grew even darker.

“No.” He stepped into the room, his head almost brushing the ceiling. “But I’ll still make you leave.”

She fought to keep from shrinking back any farther, refusing to show weakness. Her skin prickled with unease at the anger in his voice. There was so much rage beneath his surface control, a volcano waiting to erupt. But she refused to back down, her determination to stay in her sanctuary—her home—driving her forward.

“I’m not ready to go, and unless you intend to drag me out, I’m staying.”

“You’re not staying here.” His face remained impassive, his expression unyielding, but he hesitated, his gaze sweeping down over her body. “But get dressed before you leave.”

Her breath caught as an inexplicable wave of heat washed over her in response to that hungry look. Admittedly it had been a long time—a very long time—but there was no way she could be attracted to this huge angry alien. Could she?

Before she could decide he was gone, shutting the bathroom door behind him hard enough to make it rattle in its frame. Her heart sank, her stomach twisting with anxiety. She had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to—she would be back in the exact same place she’d been in when she fled Wainwright.

No. This farmhouse was her only refuge, her last chance at starting anew. She couldn’t let him chase her away, not now, not ever. She wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t let him bully her out of her new home.

A surge of defiance coursed through her veins as she stood, the water in the tub rippling with her movement. She climbed out of the tub, then dried off as quickly and thoroughly as she could with the one towel she’d found. As she began to dress, her hands shaking slightly, she strained to hear any sound from the kitchen or the rooms beyond. Nothing, but the air was thick with tension.

She finished dressing, then groaned as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She’d found an assortment of discarded clothes in the attic but none of them had been a particularly good fit. The shirt she was wearing had clearly been designed for someone without her generous curves, and the button across her chest was strained to the limit. The pants were equally tight and she suspected they’d been intended for a teenage boy.

The outfit was far more revealing than she would have liked. But then again, he’s already had the chance to see her in far less. She shrugged and tried to think of a way to convince him to let her stay. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and went to join him in the kitchen.

The windows in the kitchen had not been covered so she’d left them that way and sunlight streamed into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, she found him at the kitchen table. He looked even larger in the light and more intimidating, frowning down at a huge pile of supplies.

Why was he frowning? She would have given her eye teeth to have had even a tenth of those supplies. She did a quick survey, her mouth watering, and landed on a container of tea.

“Oh, you have tea! I can make us a cup.”

His scowl didn’t waver as he looked over at her, but she saw his eyes flash down to the generous amount of cleavage displayed by the too small shirt.

“I don’t want tea.”

Ignoring him, she began rummaging through the cupboards to find the old teapot and a couple of cracked mugs. Despite his denial, he made no attempt to stop her. Interesting. She decided to act as if he’d already agreed to let her stay and gave him a sunny smile.

“Oh, don’t be silly! A nice cup of tea can brighten up anyone’s day.”

When he didn’t respond, she chattered on, her words spilling out in a cheerful stream as she boiled water and poured it over the tea leaves. His glower intensified, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity, but as long as he wasn’t physically trying to stop her, she could ignore his displeasure. She poured two cups and placed his in front of him.

“No milk, I’m afraid,” she said, giving him another smile which he didn’t return.

They sat in silence for a moment before she could no longer resist asking.

“I’m Kara, by the way. What’s your name?”

He scowled at her, not responding, but she waited patiently, sipping her tea. His expression didn’t soften, but he did eventually take a sip of the tea and she beamed, taking it as a small victory.

“One of my foster mothers always said that a nice cup of tea was the remedy for most ills.”

Mrs. Martin had been a kindhearted woman, but not kindhearted enough to overlook the fact that her husband had noticed Kara’s rapidly developing body. She’d apologized to Kara, but she’d still sent her away. Yet another home she’d lost. She wasn’t going to lose this one too.

“It’s amazing how it can calm the nerves,” she said cheerfully. “And—”

He interrupted her, his tone firm. “I don’t care about the tea, Kara. You need to leave.”

Her heart sank as she studied that implacable face, but she had to keep trying.

“Please,” she said, her voice laced with desperation, “let me stay. I’ll do chores, keep the house clean, help with the farm work. I’ll earn my keep.”

His expression didn’t soften, but his eyes seemed to bore deeper into hers, as if searching for something.

“Why are you here?” he growled.

“I have nowhere else to go.”

She was sure he could hear the truth in her words, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Why not?”

Should she tell him? Could she tell him? What if he insisted on hauling her off to Wainwright and handing her over to the law? She took a deep breath, weighing the risks. Maybe, just maybe, she could trust this gruff, imposing alien.

“I was accused of a crime I didn’t commit.”

He didn’t say anything, but the massive fist around his mug tightened.

“A man named Lucas Trask accused me of theft to force me into his bed. He was angry because I’d rejected him, but I’m not a thief.”

For a moment she thought his face softened, but then he leaned back, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

“That’s not my concern.”

Her desperation grew. She had to make him understand.

“Please, listen to me. I have nowhere else to go. I have no friends, no f-family. My mother died when I was still a child and since then I’ve never belonged anywhere. But here, in this house, I feel safe. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can breathe.”

His gaze faltered, his eyes darting away from hers, and she thought—prayed—that she’d seen a glimmer of something else, something almost like understanding.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Let me stay. I’ll work hard, I’ll help with the farm… I’ll do anything.”

An oppressive silence followed, heavy with uncertainty. Then H’zim’s massive frame seemed to sag, his shoulders dropping in a gesture of reluctant surrender.

“Fine,” he growled. “You can stay. But on my terms.”

CHAPTER 4

“What terms?” Kara asked cautiously.

H’zim’s stomach twisted with regret as he gazed at the pretty woman sipping tea across from him. She was even more attractive in the sunlit kitchen, her red hair catching sparks of fire and an appealing sprinkle of freckles across her creamy skin. Even though she was now dressed, the memory of those delectable curves was imprinted on his mind.

He was already sure he’d made a mistake by agreeing to let her stay, but he’d been swayed not only by the pleading look in those big brown eyes, but by his sympathy for her situation—a situation that in a minor way mirrored his own. But that moment of weakness meant that now he had a human living in his home. A very desirable human.

“Don’t ask me any questions,” he growled, trying to sound as menacing as possible. “If I give you an order, do as you’re told. And stay the hell out of my way.”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded obediently. He scowled, not wanting to admit that her quick submission only made him more wary.

He rose from the creaky chair, towering over the sturdy table.

“I’ll be out in the fields most days. Our paths should rarely cross.”

She nodded again, but her gaze had turned speculative. What was going on behind that pretty face?

I don’t care, he told himself.

As he turned to leave, his gaze snagged on the small, tidy kitchen. The neat interior of the farmhouse was a far cry from the rundown exterior. Did her luscious exterior conceal similar secrets? How has she survived alone on this remote, abandoned farm?

A spark of curiosity ignited within him, but he immediately snuffed it out, reminding himself of the countless times he’d been burned by trusting others. He had work to do, like untangling the overgrown fields and repairing the dilapidated barn. His focus needed to stay on those tasks, not on the mysterious, freckled woman now sharing his space.

He stalked out of the kitchen, leaving her to her tea and her secrets. As he strode out into the bright morning sunlight, he couldn’t shake the sensation that he’d just let a tiny, insidious seed take root in his life. And he had no idea how to stop it from growing.

The barn, like the rest of the farm, was rundown and dilapidated, but he’d rather face the physical labor than the turmoil in his mind. He was hefting a rusty plowshare, scrutinizing the worn metal, when the sound of footsteps behind him made him tense. He instinctively reached for the knife at his belt as he dropped the plowshare and turned around.

But it was only Kara, her long red hair tied back in a ponytail, a determined look on her face.

“You didn’t tell me what you wanted me to do. I meant what I said about earning my keep,” she added earnestly. “Are there any specific chores that I can help with?”

He frowned at her, surprised by the question. He hadn’t taken her offer seriously. In his experience most females expected a male to provide for them. No one had offered to help him in return in a long time.

“What makes you think you can be of any real assistance?” he growled, the words coming out harsher than he intended.

Her chin rose, defiance sparkling in those big brown eyes.

“I’ve done farm work before. I would have done more work outside if I hadn’t… if I hadn’t been trying to remain hidden.”

“You certainly succeeded,” he admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t know that anyone else was here.”

She beamed at him.

“Thank you. I’m glad it worked. But now that you’re here, maybe I can take care of some of the things I couldn’t do before? Anyone who comes by will expect the place to be occupied.”

He snorted, a dry, humorless sound.

“No one is going to come by.” He considered her for a moment. Not many people were as eager to take on work as she seemed to be—at least not without an ulterior motive. He shrugged, curious to see what she would do. “But I suppose you could start with that.”

She flashed him a quick smile, then returned to the house, emerging a moment later with a broom and set to work cleaning off the porch. He found himself watching her instead of completing his inventory of the barn, his gaze lingering on the way her body moved beneath the worn clothing. Despite her lush figure, she was a tiny thing, but her determination reminded him of his own stubbornness.

He’d chosen solitude, intending to use the time to nurse his wounds and plot his revenge. But as he watched her work on the house they were now sharing, he felt a pang of… not exactly enjoyment, but perhaps a sense of comfort.

No. He didn’t need comfort. He needed space, silence, and his own bitter company. But he continued to watch her as she moved gracefully around the porch, as if she were dancing rather than cleaning, her ponytail bobbing with each movement.

This is what S’kal has now, he thought—a mate to share his home and work beside him. What he would never have. Even if he could bring himself to trust another female, what decent female would want an ex-convict, and ex-warrior? He automatically found himself reaching for the thick braid that had once fallen down across his shoulder, a symbol of his strength and prowess. He’d cut it off the day they’d pronounced his sentence and thrown him into a cell, using a sharpened edge on one of the rusted bars to painfully hack off the thick length.

The act had been a rejection of the code that had failed him, that had allowed him to be wrongly accused and imprisoned. An acknowledgment that he was no longer an honorable warrior. His thumb slid back and forth across the scar beneath his eye, one of the many he’d acquired during that long and terrible war. He’d always been reckless, impatient with rules and restrictions, and yet he’d believed that there was an underlying order to the world, a system of justice. He’d been wrong.

The familiar ache of resentment and anger threatened to erupt, but he forced himself to return to his task, doing his best to ignore Kara’s movements. He wasn’t entirely successful, but once she disappeared into the house again, he could devote all of his attention to his survey.

By the time the sun was low on the horizon, he’d finished with the contents of the barn and the two small outbuildings, and had done a quick assessment of the fields nearest the house. The period lying fallow had been good for the soil—it would provide an excellent harvest.

Not that I will be here to see it.

But S’kal could probably make use of it, he decided. There was no harm in beginning the process of clearing the land, perhaps even planting a minimal crop. He’d also started clearing the irrigation ditches, finding an unexpected satisfaction in both the physical labor and the results—a clear indication of progress.

He was covered in dirt by the time he headed back to the house and his back ached a little from the unfamiliar activities, despite the warrior exercises he’d performed in his cell every day. A farmer requires different muscles, he thought, and yet there was a certain satisfaction to the tiredness that came from hard, productive work.

As he stretched to relieve the ache, he caught a flash of reflected light from the nearby hills. He automatically reached for his knife as he studied the area, but the flash didn’t reoccur. Could he have imagined that brief spark? Perhaps the sun had simply reflected off of a shiny rock.

Or perhaps I’m being watched.

It seemed unlikely, but his skin prickled with apprehension as he took another look at the hills. Everything was as peaceful as it had been before, but he couldn’t dismiss the idea entirely as he made his way back to the house, entering through the kitchen door. Kara was standing by the stove, stirring something with a very appetizing odor. Her face was flushed from the heat, a few tendrils that had escaped her ponytail curling damply around her face, but she looked over and smiled at him.

Fuck. There was that unwanted feeling again—a feeling of comfort, of homecoming. He immediately disguised it by giving her a fierce scowl.

“You cooked dinner.”

“It’s just some stew. I hope you—”

“Using my supplies.”

“Just a little,” she said quickly. “I did use some of the dried meat, but I also used the edible fungi I foraged and I picked some of the vegetables I’ve been growing. Which reminds me—I assume you have no objection if I clear away more of the vegetation surrounding the plants?”

He shook his head abruptly, still watching her standing by the stove, his stomach growling in anticipation. But instead of sitting down he remained standing, his arms crossed, his face set in a scowl. She gave him a wary look and changed the subject.

“I have some water heating on the back of the stove if you’d like to wash up before we eat.” She cocked her head doubtfully when he didn’t respond. “Was I not supposed to do that either?”

“It’s not necessary to use the stove to heat water anymore. I got the water pump working,” he said gruffly. “The plumbing system is functional now.”

Her face lit up.

“That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He didn’t return the smile. He didn’t want to encourage her, to have her think that allowing her to stay was anything more than a reluctant favor. Once he figured out what to do with her, he wouldn’t have to engage in small talk or idle chitchat. He would be alone to eat, to sleep, to work, to plot.

Which is what I want, he told himself firmly as he went to the sink to wash. The water dripped down onto his shirt and he stripped it off impatiently, sluicing more water over his arms and chest. When he turned around, he saw her eyes widen at the sight of his bare torso, her cheeks reddening as she hastily looked away.

Despite her embarrassment, he’d seen a quick flash of interest in her eyes before she turned away. It shouldn’t matter to him at all, especially given his decision to avoid any further entanglement with females, but that appreciative look soothed some intrinsically male part of him.

“Here,” she said, handing him a towel with her eyes still averted.

He grunted an acknowledgment as he dried off. He reached for his shirt then decided it was too dirty to put back on. It certainly wasn’t because he enjoyed seeing her dart glances at his naked chest, that pretty pink still staining her cheeks.

“I suppose I might as well try this stew,” he said grumpily as he sat down at the table.

His attempt to sound dismissive was immediately foiled by his stomach grumbling, and she laughed. The merry sound filling the kitchen made his chest ache. How long had it been since he’d heard such simple, genuine amusement?

“Well, if you’re sure you can manage to choke it down…”

Her voice was teasing as she put a huge bowl of stew in front of him, but he refused to respond. He picked up his spoon to take a cautious bite, then almost groaned with pleasure. The food in the prison had been essentially tasteless and he’d had to force himself to eat, knowing it was important to keep up his strength. In the hectic rush between his release and his arrival on the ranch, he hadn’t had time for more than a few protein bars.

They hadn’t prepared him for real food, rich and warm and delicious. He devoured the entire bowl in minutes, then looked up to see Kara smiling at him from across the table.

“I guess it wasn’t too bad after all.”

“I had to eat quickly in prison,” he said defensively, then swore under his breath. He hadn’t meant to tell her anything about himself—and especially not that.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t back away.

“Prison?”

He almost didn’t respond, but now that he’d let it slip, there was no point in trying to hide the truth.

“I’ve spent the last three years in the Port Cantor jail.”

She tilted her head, watching him, and he realized he was running his finger down his scar again.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

She nodded. “All right. Is that why you changed your mind about letting me stay? Because you know what it feels like to be accused of something you haven’t done?”

“What makes you think I didn’t do it?” he growled.

“Call it woman’s intuition.” She shrugged and rose to her feet, reaching for his bowl. “Do you want some more?”

Taking his silence for assent, she carried the bowl over to the stove, leaving him staring after her. That was it? No tears, no demands for information? Or even worse, insidious little attempts to worm the information from him. Instead, she just returned to the table and handed him another generous portion of stew before returning to her own bowl. Her barely touched bowl.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he demanded, suddenly suspicious.

“I want to make sure there’s enough for you first, since I did use some of your supplies.”

An unfamiliar feeling of guilt swept over him. He’d lashed out at her because of his own unwelcome feelings, not because he actually minded sharing his supplies with her. He’d been raised to put his female’s needs first, and although that had led to his downfall, the instinct remained. He growled in annoyance as he pushed her bowl closer to her.

“Eat.”

She gave him a startled look, then smiled and took a spoonful of the stew.

“Thank you.”

Unnerved by her gratitude, he quickly shoveled in a few large mouthfuls, focusing on the meal. But even though his taste buds were delighted—even more now that he was eating more slowly—he couldn’t quite extinguish the faint flame of discomfort.

This was ridiculous. She is not my female, he reminded himself. She’s just a trespasser on my land. It didn’t help. He continued to watch her as she ate, determined to make sure she finished the bowl. Unfortunately, watching the spoon disappear between those pretty pink lips, watching her swallow and lick her lips, had an entirely inappropriate effect on his anatomy. His long neglected cock stirred, pushing uncomfortably against his pants.

Fuck. That was the last thing he needed. As soon as she finished her bowl he jumped to his feet.

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“Yes,” he said and stomped off.

He didn’t really think so, although he automatically checked the surrounding hills for any sign of life. Nothing. No scent of smoke or flicker of firelight from a distant campfire. It must have been a trick of the light after all. He still did a quick patrol around the outside of the house, but he knew it wasn’t because he was worried about intruders. He’d just had to leave the warmth and comfort of the kitchen, the unexpected intimacy of sharing a meal with his female—a female—in the quiet kitchen.

As he turned the corner of the house, he noticed the now spotless porch. It still needed to have the loose boards nailed back in place and it could have used a good coat of paint, but she’d removed all the debris and swept and mopped. He’d been too distracted by watching her luscious little body to realize just how hard she’d been working.

Even in the gathering dusk he could see that the old curtains had been removed inside the house and the windows cleaned. The warm glow of lamplight from the kitchen at the back of the house, called to him like a homing beacon. He had his foot on the lowest step before he scowled and resumed his patrol.

The surrounding woods were quiet and still, with only the faint swish of leaves in the gentle evening breeze or the occasional rustle of some small animal in the undergrowth. The stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky—the first time he’d been able to see them in years. Even before his incarceration he hadn’t wanted to look at them, hadn’t wanted to be reminded of the terrible things that occurred amongst them.

Somehow over the past few years that horror had faded enough that he could appreciate the serenity they represented, arching over the small farmhouse like a diamond-studded blanket. Fuck, now he was getting poetic. Damn female.

He resumed his patrol, his face set in a fierce scowl, but when he finally returned to the kitchen, Kara only looked up and smiled. The kitchen was once again neat and tidy, and she was bent over a length of yellow fabric, hemming it with quick neat stitches.

“It’s so nice to be able to have a light burning at night. I was always afraid to chance it in case someone saw it.”

“You sat in the darkness?”

The way he had sat in his prison cell after the lights went out, alone with his anger. A shadow crossed her face before she shook her head.

“I usually just went to bed. Living off the land is surprisingly exhausting.”

“A farm is hard work as well,” he warned. “We should go to bed.”

CHAPTER 5

Kara’s breath caught at H’zim’s announcement. Although she was sure—mostly sure—that he’d meant it innocuously, her mind immediately conjured up the image of his big body rising over her, gripping her hips as he thrust—

Her cheeks burned as she quickly returned her attention to the dress she was hemming. The last thing she needed was to develop an unwanted attraction to the big male—although she suspected it was too late. Her initial interest had only grown throughout the day as she watched him work, surrounded by an indefinable air of isolation. And when he stripped off his shirt to reveal acres of muscles… The scars that marred the smooth green skin made her heart ache for him, but they did nothing to detract from his rugged attractiveness.

He’d filled the kitchen with his presence, the air practically crackling with tension. Even the idea of sleeping under the same roof as him had sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine. And now here they were.

“I changed the sheets on the bed for you,” she said a little too breathlessly. “They’re kind of worn, but they’re clean.”

Even with her gaze firmly pinned on her sewing, she could feel him frowning at her.

“For me? Why?”

“There’s, umm, only one bed in the house. The other bedroom was empty except for an old armoire. Whoever moved out of here must have done so in a hurry—they left such an odd assortment of stuff behind. Although I’m grateful they did. I’ve been able to use a lot of it. But like I said, only one bed.”

Her rush of words stumbled to a halt and she finally peeked up at him from under her lashes. His face was a frozen mask but those dark eyes blazed with emotion. She gulped nervously, but she wasn’t exactly afraid. If he’d intended to hurt her, he’d had plenty of opportunities already.

No, she wasn’t afraid—she was… aroused. The thought of spending the night in his arms sent a delicious shiver through her and her nipples tightened, the friction of her shift suddenly feeling like the most intimate caress. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I thought I’d just curl up on one of the chairs in the living room,” she hurried on. “Or if you don’t want me to stay in the house, I could sleep in the barn. I think there’s enough hay to—”

“No,” he snapped, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “You will remain in the house.”

He studied her silently for another moment, and she thought she saw a flicker of something else in his gaze, something almost like…longing. But it vanished before she could be certain.

“The chair will do,” he said finally.

She nodded hastily, relieved that she wouldn’t have to venture into the dark, musty barn alone, and he stalked off into the bathroom. She quickly finished the seam she was hemming, then slipped into the bedroom to retrieve the oversized shirt she’d been using as a nightgown, along with a moth-eaten shawl to use as a blanket.

Then she took her turn in the bathroom, and when she emerged the kitchen was silent and empty. A peek around the corner revealed that the living room was empty as well so she turned off the lamp and went to pick a chair. Neither of them was particularly comfortable, but she decided on the taller wingback so she could rest her head against the back.

As she settled into the creaky armchair, she listened to the creaks and groans of the old house, her ears straining to pick up any sound that might indicate what H’zim was doing. Her mind refused to settle, her thoughts a jumble of uncertainty and unwilling attraction. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was walking a tightrope, with H’zim keeping the tightrope aloft.

The door to the bedroom suddenly flew open and H’zim reappeared, his massive frame looming in the doorway.

“You can have the bed,” he growled, his dark eyes fixed on her.

Alone?

Her heart skipped a beat as she shook her head.

“No, it’s your house. I couldn’t—”

He cut her off with a curt gesture.

“You’re welcome to it.”

“I don’t feel right about taking your bed.” She hesitated. “How about we alternate? You can have the first night since I’m already settled here.”

He looked at her, his expression unreadable, but she could feel the heat in his gaze. Her heart was pounding but her nipples had tightened again.

Finally he nodded, a curt jerk of his head.

“Fine.”

With that, he vanished into the bedroom, leaving her alone in her chair once more. A breath she didn’t know she was holding escaped as she listened to him move about in the bedroom. She’d felt as if she was waiting for… something. But what, she didn’t know.

She leaned back against the chair, trying to force herself to relax, but she was acutely aware of H’zim’s presence in the bedroom. Eventually his movements stilled and she could hear his slow, heavy breathing. There was something comforting about the sound, but it also served as a reminder that this was not her house. Her position here was as tenuous as it had been in all of her foster homes.

She’d been avoiding thinking about the future, content to live in the present, turning the little farmhouse into a home and pretending that her problems would magically disappear. But she couldn’t stay here forever, not with H’zim’s presence and her own uncertain status. He could decide at any moment that she had to leave and she had no way of stopping him.

I need a plan.

Despite that, her heart ached as her gaze drifted about the darkened room. Even in the dim light of the first moon, she could see the changes she’d made, her efforts to create a home, a sanctuary. She didn’t want to leave.

And what was she going to do once she did? What if Lucas had reported her to the sheriff and they were looking for her? Even if he hadn’t, she still only had the clothes in which she’d arrived and a couple of coins. As many times as she’d moved before, she’s always had a plan and some kind of resources. She’d never started with nothing.

Anxiety threatened to overcome her as horrible possibilities tumbled through her head, but she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths until she was calm again.

Think this through, she ordered herself. If she couldn’t stay on the farm, she needed to find a job—preferably a long way from Wainwright. The thought that she would also be a long way from H’zim flitted through her mind but she did her best to ignore it.

Perhaps she could barter work for a position on one of the trading caravans. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, although the thought of another series of menial jobs made her cringe. But she didn’t see another alternative, certainly not until she’d had a chance to hoard enough credits to give her more options.

The possibilities swirled in her head until her eyes felt gritty and tired, her mind foggy. She needed to sleep, but her brain refused to shut off. Eventually sheer exhaustion started to win out. Her eyelids drooped as her body began to relax, her breathing slowing.

In her half asleep state, her thoughts returned to H’zim. What secrets were locked behind those dark, brooding eyes? Her mind began to wander down a different path, wondering what it would take to make the gruff, imposing alien relax and smile. And what would it be like to touch him, perhaps even to kiss him? She imagined his massive hands cupping her face, gentle despite their strength, his touch sending shivers down her spine. The fantasies were silly, ridiculous, and yet she let herself enjoy them as she finally started to drift off to sleep.

She was vaguely aware of the creaks and groans of the old house, the sound of her own soft breathing, but it was H’zim’s sudden cry that jolted her awake. He let out a loud, anguished shout, the sound ripping through the silence and she bolted upright, her heart pounding as she peered into the darkness. But the room was still quiet and empty.

He cried out again and she rushed into the bedroom, her heart still racing. He was thrashing back and forth on the bed, his dark eyes screwed shut as if trying to block out some horror. She’d never seen anyone caught so intensely in a nightmare before.

“H’zim, wake up,” she said gently, grabbing his hand.

He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. His face was slick with sweat, his chest heaving as if he were running a marathon. She tried again, more urgently this time.

“Wake up, H’zim! You’re dreaming!” She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to shake him awake, but it was like trying to shake a statue and he remained trapped in his own private hell. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

Suddenly his eyes flew open, his gaze locking onto hers with a feral intensity. He snatched her down next to him, then rolled over her, pinning her to the bed with his massive body, his hands grasping her wrists like iron manacles. Her breath caught in her throat as he loomed over her, his face twisted in a snarl. An unseeing snarl.

He was staring down at her but she didn’t think he was actually seeing her at all. Then, in a voice that sent shivers down her spine, he growled, “Why did you betray me, Ayyla?”

CHAPTER 6

H’zim’s eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as if he’d run for miles. The darkness of the room seemed to swirl around him, a vortex of memories he’d rather forget. A battle on Vizal where he’d been trapped by enemy fire for three endless days. The damp, cold cell in Port Cantor, the stench of mold and despair clinging to him like a shroud, echoing his hopelessness. The moment when he’d realized Ayyla’s betrayal.

There was a female beneath him, her eyes wide with fear, and he growled with satisfaction. He could make her pay at last. He pinned her down, his hands like vises on her arms. Ayyla’s treacherous face hovered in front of him laughing as she walked away, leaving him in the grip of Port Cantor’s law officers.

“No,” he growled, his voice raw, as if the words had been torn from his throat.

But the body beneath his was lush and soft, not Ayyla’s sleek frame, and the scent filling his head was light and sweet, not the heavy musk that Ayyla preferred. For a moment he didn’t recognize the female, fury and panic still coursing through his veins, but Kara’s face finally came into focus, her eyes wide and shocked. For a moment he was disoriented, unsure where he was or how she’d gotten there. The farmhouse, yes, that was it. He’d found her here, and now she was staring at him as if he was some kind of monster.

His gaze raked her face, searching for… what? Deceit? Betrayal? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his past. As the fog in his mind finally lifted, he relaxed his grip, releasing her. She sat up, rubbing her arms, her eyes still wary.

“H’zim?” Her voice sounded shaky.

Guilt swept over him and he sat back, scrubbing his face with a callused hand. Despite his guilt, the memory of Ayyla’s treachery still lingered. He could hear the buzz of the market, smell the scent of spices and fried food, feel the grip of the officers’ hands on his arms. His vision began to blur as the memories rushed over him again. The pain, the anger, the helplessness.

Ayyla’s name echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his foolishness, his failure. No. Not again. He wouldn’t fall for it again.

Suddenly Kara’s hands were on his face, her fingers tracing the lines of his scar. Her touch was gentle, but the impact of her touch rocketed through him, snapping him back to the present.

“H’zim,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Safe? He wasn’t safe. He was trapped, forever trapped in this cycle of anger and shame, but Kara’s touch helped bring him back to the present. When their eyes met, he didn’t see fear or anger—he saw understanding. As if she knew that he hadn’t been in control, that the nightmare had taken over, and that she was willing to weather the storm with him.

For a moment they just sat there, the only sound the heavy breathing that still racked his chest. Without thinking, he reached out and touched her face the way she’d touched his, his thumbs tracing the smooth freckled curves of her cheeks. Her eyes never left his, calm and… accepting. Why was there so much comfort in that?

Unable to find the words, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers. He intended it as no more than a brief touch, a thank you for her understanding. But as soon as their lips touched, something within him sparked to life. Desire flared in his stomach, low and hot, his body hardening in response.

He deepened the kiss, taking possession of her mouth and claiming her with fierce hunger. He savored the honey of her lips and she trembled against him, but her lips parted willingly, inviting more. He could lose himself in the softness of her body, the sweetness of her kiss…

No. An alarm sounded in his head and he jerked back. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim room, her lips damp and swollen. The urge to reach for her again almost overwhelmed him, but he couldn’t let his guard down, not now, not ever.

Especially not with a female. The memory of Ayyla’s treachery still festered in his mind. He couldn’t trust Kara, no matter how gentle her touch or how comforting her presence. He couldn’t allow himself to trust her.

He rose quickly to his feet, his fingers curling into fists as he took a step away from the bed. His breathing was ragged again, his chest heaving with the effort of containing his emotions. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to stay focused, had to keep his eyes on the prize—revenge.

“You take the bed,” he growled, his voice rougher than he intended. He didn’t look at Kara, couldn’t bear to see confusion or hurt in her eyes. “I’ll sleep outside.”

Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room and out of the house into the darkness of the night. He didn’t stop until he reached the barn, his feet carrying him on autopilot as his mind replayed the kiss, the touch, the feeling of comfort that had almost undone him.

He leaned against the open doorframe, his eyes fixed on the stars above as he tried to calm his breathing. His heart was still racing with a confusing mixture of fear and desire. He couldn’t let it happen again—he wouldn’t let it happen again. Revenge was his only goal, and he would see it through, no matter what.

Although his heart rate and his breathing eventually quieted, he knew that sleep was not an option. Instead, he prowled the farm’s perimeter. At first he strode rapidly, as if he could outrun the memories that haunted him. But as the night wore on, the silence of the countryside began to seep into his bones, calming the turmoil inside him. Although he couldn’t entirely shake off the feeling of vulnerability that had crept up on him with Kara’s touch, his mind cleared enough for him to consider the future—not only his future, but hers.

By the time the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he’d reached a decision. He would stay long enough to get the farm started again, to ensure she had a chance to build a life here. It might delay his plans a little but they had waited this long—they could wait a little longer.

As the sun rose higher, casting a golden glow over the neglected fields, he started cataloging the tasks that needed to be done. Most of it could be accomplished with nothing more than hard work, but he might need to make a trip to town for additional supplies as well.

Nodding decisively, he strode back to the farmhouse, his footsteps quiet on the dewy grass. He’d get the farm in order, and then he’d leave, leaving Kara to her new life. The thought should have brought him solace, but instead a pang of something he couldn’t quite identify echoed through his chest.

The feeling only intensified when he pushed open the door and saw her standing by the stove again, preparing food. She looked up when he entered and smiled cheerfully.

“Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Her composure took him aback, as did the warmth in her eyes. Why was she not outraged at his sudden departure the previous night? Why wasn’t she demanding answers and apologies?

His throat constricted as he nodded, trying to clear the lump that had formed.

“Thanks. I’ll wash up.”

He strode to the sink, his movements mechanical as he scrubbed his hands and face. The cool water helped clear his head, reminding him of the path he’d chosen. He couldn’t afford to get tangled up in emotions, not now, not ever. He had a job to do—get the farm running, and then leave.

“I used some more of your supplies,” she said as she came to join him at the table. “Are you going to be upset about it?”

“No. I was just… annoyed yesterday. It would be foolish not to use them.”

“Good.”

When she smiled and slid a plate in front of him, his stomach growled in anticipation, but his heart ached with a different kind of hunger. He wished…he wished he could have this life, this sense of belonging, with Kara by his side.

But wishes were for the weak. Get the farm running, and then leave. That was his mantra now. Leave, before he got too comfortable. Before he got too attached. He ignored the uneasy suspicion that it was already too late.

CHAPTER 7

Kara stared after H’zim as he fled into the night, still shocked by the rapid turn of events from his nightmare to his kiss to his sudden departure. A low pulse of arousal continued to throb through her body and she pressed her hands to her cheeks, embarrassed by the speed and intensity of her response. She’d forgotten everything except the pleasure of his kiss and the feel of his hard body against hers. And he’d been the one to end it.

I wouldn’t have stopped him if he wanted more. I wanted more.

The knowledge was both embarrassing—after all, she barely knew him—and oddly intoxicating. That flare of passion had made her feel alive and sensual, a welcome change from her usual mundane struggle to survive. And I do know him, she thought as she climbed out of bed. The unexpected kindness behind the gruff facade and the glimpses of vulnerability, of pain and of a loneliness that echoed her own.

Was the woman he’d mentioned responsible for that pain? Ayyla? Her lip curled with distaste, and perhaps the slightest hint of jealousy. He’d seemed so overcome, so devastated, that she hadn’t been able to resist touching him, reaching out to offer comfort. She hadn’t intended it as anything more, but as soon as their lips met, desire had rushed over her so quickly she felt dizzy. He’d awoken something in her that she hadn’t known existed.

From the hunger in his kiss, it had hit him the same way. Or had it? Maybe he had kissed Ayyla the same way. The pang of jealousy returned, along with an all too familiar feeling of abandonment. The silence of the farmhouse seemed to close in around her and the room suddenly felt cold and empty. She shivered, rubbing her arms, and absentmindedly began to straighten the tangled sheets.

Should I go and look for him? She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d seen a glimpse of the real H’zim beneath the gruff exterior. And that glimpse had left her wanting more.

Restless and undecided she paced around the room, her fingers occasionally going to her mouth, to the lips still tingling from his kiss. Her mind refused to settle down, and with a sigh she wandered over to the window, gazing out into the night. The second moon had yet to rise and the darkness outside seemed to swallow everything, leaving only the faint outline of the barn and the surrounding trees. She stared at the barn, wondering if he was inside, wondering if he was sleeping, unaffected by their encounter.

And then she saw him standing by the barn, his massive silhouette barely distinguishable from the darkness as he stood unmoving in the night, like a sentry watching over her. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, alone and awake because of her. But at the same time, the knowledge that he was keeping watch brought her a strange sense of peace.

Once again she considered going to him but the stiffness in his posture argued that he would not welcome her approach. Instead, she stood there watching him, her fingertips pressed lightly against the glass. The darkness seemed to recede, and for a moment it was just the two of them, connected by an invisible thread.

Her breathing gradually slowed, the tension in her body seeping away, replaced by a sense of security, of being protected. She finally turned and made her way back to the bed. For the first time that night, she felt as if she could sleep.

She woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. A new day. She smiled and stretched before climbing out of bed. Last night’s events still lingered in her mind, but she decided to act as if nothing had happened. She had a feeling that any other option would make H’zim run again.

She dressed quickly, wishing she had more options, but the old pair of men’s pants were comfortable enough, if a little snug, and the faded blouse a practical solution. The kitchen was empty and she hesitated, then shrugged and dug into his supplies again, giving a delighted exclamation when she found a bag of coffee. The kitchen was soon filled with the scent of the cooking and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, making her stomach growl with anticipation.

The kitchen door swung open, and H’zim strode in, huge and green and gorgeous despite the forbidding scowl on his face. Her heart skipped a beat, her decision to pretend that nothing had happened suddenly faltering.

“Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready,” she said cheerfully, even though she was sure she was blushing.

He grunted a response and went to wash up at the kitchen sink. Unfortunately, he didn’t remove his shirt this time. Although his scowl remained, he seemed to be in a better mood. He even approved of her using the supplies.

He ate as hungrily as he had the night before, and she was surprised by how much satisfaction that gave her. She sipped on her coffee and watched him eat, enjoying the quiet warmth of the sunlit kitchen.

“I didn’t know powdered eggs could taste this good,” he said when he finished and pushed his plate away.

“Real eggs would have been better, but they turned out okay.”

“Do you know how to care for chickens?”

“Yes, why?”

“Just thinking about what the farm needs in the future.”

Her heart skipped another beat. Did that mean he saw her as part of that future?

“So what are your plans for today?” she asked, trying to sound casual despite the tangled emotions swirling inside her.

“I’ll be working on getting the farm in shape. I’ve made a list of things to be done.”

“Can I help with anything on your list? Like I told you yesterday, I do have some experience with farming.”

Something flickered across his face—surprise, or gratitude?—before it was replaced by his usual scowl.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice gruff.

“I want to. I’ve never been very good at taking it easy.”

“What did you do here before I came along?”

The question sounded cynical, but he actually seemed to be interested. She shrugged.

“I mainly concentrated on finding food—foraging, checking my traps, fishing. I usually did a little weeding although I was afraid to do too much in case it was noticeable. Plus the usual cooking and cleaning and laundry. Lately I’ve been trying to hunt down canning jars and lids so I can preserve food.”

“For the winter,” he said slowly.

It wasn’t a question, but she nodded.

“I was hoping no one would find me and I’d be able to stay here.”

Another expression flashed across his face, and this time she was sure it was regret. Was he going to throw her out? He hadn’t promised she could stay for long. Her pulse raced nervously as she waited for him to respond but he returned to her earlier question.

“I noticed the garden needed more weeding. Why don’t you do that and then join me in the pasture? I want to repair the fence, and it would go faster with two people.”

He was clearly reluctant to admit the last part, but she beamed and leaned forward eagerly.

“I’d love to. Are you going to get a cow too? We could have fresh milk and butter and cheese and—”

He held up his hand but the hint of a smile softened that hard face.

“Fence first. Then we can make other plans.”

Had he realized he’d said we? She wasn’t sure, but she still smiled happily as she went to wash the dishes.

Contentment filled Kara as she trudged back to the farmhouse late that afternoon, her boots kicking up small clouds of dirt behind her. The day had been long, but fulfilling. In many ways it hadn’t been that different from her usual routine, but working with someone else changed everything. He was still gruff and mostly silent, but he didn’t seem to mind her cheerful chatter.

Being able to work openly was also a relief, and she gave the neatly cleared kitchen garden a satisfied look. She was sure it was an illusion but the plants already looked happier and healthier. H’zim had also discovered wild grain growing amongst the weeds in the fields and they’d made a preliminary start on cultivating that as well. The physical labor had left her muscles sore, but her spirits lifted.

She’d never imagined she’d find such satisfaction in farm work, but being part of bringing this forgotten land back to life was deeply rewarding. H’zim, despite his gruff demeanor, had proven to be a capable teacher, surprising her with the extent of his knowledge. When she asked, he told her that he had been brought up on a farm but that was the extent of the information he was willing to share.

It’s going to take time, she reminded herself, but the thought that she would have that time had her smiling happily as she approached the farmhouse. There was something different about the back door and it took her a moment for her startled brain to recognize it. There was a note pinned to the door. With a knife.

Her heart started to race as she came to an abrupt halt, unease creeping up her spine. Where had that come from? She hadn’t noticed anyone else, even though they’d been outside most of the day. If someone wanted to talk to H’zim, he should have been easy enough to spot.

What if the message is for me? What if it’s from Lucas?

Her racing heart started to pound so loudly it almost drowned out all other sound. Had he found her? Was this his way of taunting her, of letting her know she couldn’t escape him? She was afraid to even touch the note, as if the message itself were a venomous snake that might strike if disturbed.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her spin around, her breath catching in a sob as H’zim strode towards her, reassuringly huge and powerful.

“Look,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He frowned, his gaze flicking to the note before returning to hers.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, his tone neutral.

“I don’t know. I think it might be from Lucas,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I didn’t think he could find me here, but what if he has?”

His face darkened as he strode past her, plucking the knife out of the door with terrifying ease before scanning the note.

“It’s not from Lucas,” he said, his voice low and rough. A strange mixture of emotions danced across his features. “It’s for me.”

A wave of relief washed over her and tears suddenly pricked her eyes. The tension and fear that had slowly eased over the past few months came crashing down, leaving her vulnerable and raw. A tear escaped and then another, and before she knew it, she was sobbing.

Then H’zim was there, pulling her close as she sobbed against his chest. The comforting gesture made her sob harder but she clung to him, her hands fisted in his shirt as he gently stroked her back. When her sobs finally died away to a few last shuddering breaths, she looked up at him, trying to smile.

“I’m sorry. I don’t usually—”

He kissed her. Hard, urgent, and possessive, his mouth taking command of hers. She melted against him as the world spun around her, but he steadied her with his touch even as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire on her skin. His hard body dwarfed hers, but she had never felt more alive.

He cupped her bottom, yanking her tighter against him, the massive bar of erection throbbing against her stomach. The heat between her legs was unbearable, and she squirmed eagerly, trying to get closer. Then he pulled away, his breath coming in harsh pants as he looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering with lust and—something she couldn’t quite define. She opened her mouth but he shook his head.

“Don’t apologize again. Do you understand?”

She stared up at him, confused, until the meaning of his words sank in.

“Oh, you mean about crying? I’m not usually one of those women who cries at the drop of a hat but it’s just…”

She hesitated, embarrassed.

“What?” he growled softly.

“I’m just so happy it’s not Lucas, that’s all. I was so afraid I’d have to run again.”

“You don’t need to run anymore.”

He sounded so firm, so confident. She wanted to believe him, but her hopes had been shattered so many times in the past. She managed another shaky smile and gestured at the note.

“What does it say?”

He hesitated, then showed it to her. The message was written in large, clear block letters.

YOUR DEBT HAS COME DUE

CHAPTER 8

“Your debt? What debt?”

Kara gave H’zim a confused look, and he began to pace restlessly, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to wrestle his emotions under control. His intention to keep his distance hadn’t even lasted a day, but he hadn’t been able to resist comforting her. He shouldn’t have held her soft, trembling body in his arms. He shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much or found the fact that she had turned to him so satisfying.

Perhaps it had been that trust, or perhaps it had been that brave attempt at a smile when she looked up at him, that had led to him kissing her. A kiss that had escalated even more rapidly than the one the previous night. Even now his cock throbbed painfully, the memory of her soft flesh filling his hands making him hunger for more. Thank the gods he’d at least mustered the control to pull away before he did something incredibly stupid—like bend her over the porch steps until she was sobbing again, but from pleasure this time.

His cock jerked at the thought but he forced his attention back to her question, staring down at the note still in his hand. He’d known this day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to come so quickly. And he hadn’t expected it to be here on the farm. His muscles tensed as his head snapped up to scan the horizon. The scene was as peaceful as it had been the day before, but now he was even more convinced that he was being watched.

Kara was looking at him uncertainly, her face still pale.

“I made a bargain,” he said harshly. “This is a reminder that I will have to pay.”

Her eyes widened.

“Who are you indebted to? A loan shark?”

He barked out a laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“This wasn’t that kind of bargain.” A loan shark would have been much less of a problem.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, putting her hand on his arm and giving him a worried look.

He looked down and their eyes met. For a moment they stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Her touch sent a surge of longing through him, but he finally shook his head and turned away.

“I don’t know.”

He spun on his heel and strode off, leaving her standing alone on the porch. His boots crunched on the dry grass as he headed away from the farmhouse. He couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that had consumed him in that prison cell.

Memories flooded his mind like a dam breaking. He remembered the man who had come to see him in his cell. That in itself was unusual—all official visits were conducted in the visiting rooms—and argued a considerable degree of influence. He was a big man, at least for a human, and carried himself with the confidence of a fighter.

The stranger had studied H’zim’s face with a calculating gaze as he told him that his imprisonment had been arranged by another male, a male who held a grudge against H’zim. His words only confirmed what H’zim already knew, but perhaps he had other answers as well.

“What’s his name?” he growled, his anger simmering just below the surface.

The man smiled, a cold, cruel smile.

“Let’s just say he’s not happy about losing a large sum of money to you. And even less happy about Ayyla leaving him for you.”

His gut twisted with anger and shame. He had been so blind, so trusting. Ayyla had played him like a fool, using him to get back at her former lover.

“Why are you telling me this? Has she confessed?”

“She’s dead, H’zim. And the one who set you up will never confess.”

“Dead?” The knowledge made him reel. He’d been so busy plotting his revenge against her, he’d never considered the possibility that she might be permanently beyond his reach. And somewhere beneath the shock was a whisper of regret, regret for what she had seemed to be, for the relationship he had believed they could have. “What happened to her?”

The stranger shrugged.

“She pushed him one too many times and he’d had enough. A fitting end, no doubt.”

“Then why are you here?” he spat, the words bitter on his tongue. “Why even tell me if she’s dead and can’t help me?”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference if she were alive. You’re still guilty in the eyes of the law.” The man regarded him thoughtfully. “But there may be an alternative.”

Anger and disappointment still simmered in his chest, but the stranger’s words caught his attention.

“An alternative?” he repeated skeptically.

The stranger shrugged again, his expression unreadable. “I can arrange for you to be freed.”

Freedom. It was all he had thought about since his imprisonment. But at what cost? He knew better than to trust strangers, especially ones who appeared out of nowhere.

“What do you want in return?”

The stranger smiled, a cold, calculating smile.

“I don’t want anything, but my employer has a small request. Nothing much—just a favor to be called in at a later time.”

His instincts screamed at him to refuse. He knew he would regret it, but desperation clawed at his belly, whispering the promise of freedom in his ear. Freedom from the dark cell and the endless nights.

What kind of favor would be worth the price of his freedom? Almost anything, he decided.

“Fine,” he growled. “I agree.”

The stranger nodded, his eyes glinting with triumph.

“A wise decision. I’ll make the arrangements.” The stranger turned to leave, then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Just remember that these arrangements can be undone just as easily.”

He stared after the man as he left, dread twisting his stomach. “A favor to be called in later.” He knew that sooner or later, the stranger would come to collect.

And now he’s here, he thought, returning to the present. He’d reached the end of his land and he stopped, blindly scanning the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the hills, but his mind was still consumed by the past, by the memories he couldn’t shake.

After the stranger had left, his emotions had finally settled enough for him to work out who had been behind his arrest—Bextor, a relatively smalltime gambler but one who had a lot of connections. H’zim had been plotting his revenge ever since, determined to make it as slow as painful as his three years in jail had been.

First his agreement to return to the farm with S’kal had delayed it, then his decision to set up the farm for Kara, and now this still unknown favor. The anonymous message was almost worse than knowing the price, leaving it open to too much speculation, but perhaps that had been the stranger’s intention. Was he somewhere in those hills even now, watching the turmoil he had caused?

He’d been an excellent tracker once. Perhaps I should go after him…

He dismissed the idea almost immediately. The search could take days, even assuming the stranger was still there, and he didn’t want to leave Kara alone and unprotected. Kara. He turned to look back at the farmhouse just as a light came on, a comforting glow against the dusk. The beacon of her presence drew him like a magnet, and he started back across the fields.

Since there was nothing he could do but wait, he would use the time to make as much progress as he could on the farm. In case I don’t return, a voice whispered, but he refused to listen. Right now was all that mattered.

CHAPTER 9

Kara sighed as she watched H’zim stalk away. She’d hoped he would open up to her, tell her more about this mysterious debt, but it seemed he was determined to keep her in the dark. He kept walking, heading for the distant hills, and she had to fight off the urge to go after him, to ask him not to abandon her.

Don’t be silly, she told herself. He’s just walking, not leaving me. But she knew he would eventually—it was just a matter of when. Refusing to dwell on that possibility, she went into the house, washed her face, and began her supper preparations.

H’zim returned a short time later, his face set in a stern expression, and took over the task of chopping the vegetables she picked, handling the knife with slightly terrifying ease. He didn’t seem inclined to break the silence, but she did her best, talking about the garden and some ideas she had for expanding it.

He didn’t respond to her cheerful chatter, and she felt a sting of frustration, her earlier fear giving way to annoyance. She’d thought they’d made some progress, but he’d retreated behind his wall again.

By the time they sat down to eat, her appetite had disappeared.

“Can we talk about this?” she asked softly.

His gaze flicked to hers, then away.

“Not now, Kara,” he growled, his tone warning her off, and she gave him a frustrated glare.

“Is there anything you’re willing to talk about instead of sitting there like a huge brooding statue?”

His face relaxed the tiniest fraction.

“Huge?”

Despite her annoyance, her lips twitched and she shook her head.

“He speaks at last.”

His lips also twitched as he gave a half-shrug.

“I’ve been thinking we need more supplies.”

It wasn’t a topic she’d expected, but at least he was talking again.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Chickens, as I mentioned this morning. A cow and perhaps a calf. Also, I don’t think it’s too late to plant some more grain.”

“Probably not. And we could get some more vegetables as well—there’s plenty of time before the first frost.”

It wasn’t until after she spoke that she realized she’d said we. There had also been a tacit implication that she would be around for the winter. From the way those dark eyes studied her, she was sure he’d picked up on both of them. She waited, heart pounding, but he didn’t contradict her.

“There’s an old automated wagon in the barn,” he said instead. “Broken, of course, but I might be able to get it running.”

She gave him a doubtful look. Very little technology existed outside of Port Cantor, which meant that both knowledge and parts were hard to come by.

“Do you think so?”

“I’m good with my hands.”

It was a perfectly innocent remark but her gaze flashed down to those big hands, remembering the way they’d gripped her ass, and she knew she was blushing. What would those big strong hands feel like on her bare flesh?

Stop it, she ordered herself, and took a gulp of water. But she could still feel the heat in her cheeks, and a warm ache in her core. She forced herself to start eating again, trying not to focus on the strength of his presence, or how attractive he was, or the desire that still smoldered beneath the surface.

When she snuck a quick peek at him from under her lashes, his dark eyes glittered, but he only cleared his throat and started running down the list of additional supplies he planned to get. She recovered from her embarrassment enough to make several additional suggestions.

After they finished, he washed the dishes while she picked up her sewing again, trying not to be distracted by the sight of him moving easily around the kitchen. She half-expected him to disappear again once they’d been put away but he joined her at the table again.

He talked about the farm’s potential, and she found it easy to imagine the prosperous little farm he envisioned. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before and she wondered if it was a glimpse of the male he might have been under other circumstances. Her heart twisted as she realized how drawn she was to this enigmatic, brooding male. Why did she feel such an inexplicable connection to him, despite the almost palpable air of danger that surrounded him?

As her fingers moved deftly over the fabric, her curiosity got the better of her.

“How did you end up with this farm?” she asked quietly.

His jaw tensed and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he shrugged, his body relaxing.

“S’kal, my brother, brought me here,” he said, his deep voice low and even. “He knew I needed a place to…clear my head. Did you know this is part of a cluster of farms?”

“Yes,” she admitted cautiously.

“Commander Temel, the leader of our squad, heard about the property and decided it offered a chance to start over for all of us. S’kal said the main farm where most of them live is more prosperous, but many of the smaller farms are abandoned and in disrepair. I simply told him I’d take the one that was farthest away from everyone else.”

Her heart ached for him and perhaps that was what drove her to her own confession.

“I know about the main farm, although I didn’t realize this farm was part of the complex,” she admitted.

His gaze sharpened.

“What do you know?”

“Not much really, but I… I used to watch them occasionally.” Her cheeks were burning again and she hurried on. “I heard laughter one day when I was picking fungi and I was curious.”

And worried. It hadn’t sounded like anyone was searching for her, but she’d crept closer to make sure.

“There was this big golden alien with a woman and a baby. They were laughing and they looked so happy that I couldn’t help watching them.”

At least until the laughter turned to kisses—and more—and she’d had to hurry away. The memory made her blush intensify, but H’zim only looked amused.

“That sounds like Naffon. He’s the youngest member of our squad and a pain in the ass most of the time.” His face softened for a moment. “But I’m glad he found a mate and he’s happy again. He had a hard time after his brother was killed in the war.”

“You knew about them?”

He shrugged.

“S’kal told me about him, about all of them, when he came to visit me.” His mouth twisted in a half-smile. “He kept coming back, even though I rarely spoke to him.”

“Why not?”

She didn’t think he was going to answer her, but he looked at her thoughtfully from across the table.

“It was easier to keep everything locked away. It was the only way I knew how to survive.”

“Is that why you didn’t join the other warriors on the farm?” she asked, her voice soft.

He looked away from her as he started rubbing his thumb over the scar on his cheek again.

“I didn’t think they’d accept me,” he muttered at last, his voice low.

“You mean because you were in jail? Surely they knew you were innocent?”

His eyes snapped back to hers, an odd look on his face.

“Maybe,” he admitted gruffly. “Or maybe I just wasn’t ready to be around others.”

Her heart ached and she reached out to him, putting her hand gently over his.

“You’re around me,” she said softly.

His eyes heated, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. For a moment they just stared at each other, the air thick with tension. Her pulse raced, her skin prickling with awareness.

“It’s time for bed,” she said abruptly, breaking the spell. Her voice sounded husky, even to her own ears.

H’zim’s gaze lingered on hers, his eyes burning with a fire that made her insides melt. Then he nodded, his face a mask once more.

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice rough. “Time for bed.”

CHAPTER 10

H’zim was acutely aware of Kara at his side as they walked towards the bedroom. Her body brushed lightly against his and he caught the tantalizing sweetness of her arousal, her body responding to his presence. His own desire stirred, a familiar throbbing ache that only made him more determined to resist.

He stopped at the bedroom door, gripping the frame as he turned to her.

“I’ll sleep in the barn again,” he said, trying his best not to sound regretful.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face before she masked it with a neutral expression.

“Okay,” she said.

Her voice was soft but there was a hint of challenge in it, and he had to turn away, not trusting himself to stay in the same room with her. The memory of their kiss still lingered on his lips, the taste of her on his tongue. But he couldn’t give in to his desires, not when he still had a score to settle with Bextor.

As he crossed the room, he could feel her watching him, her gaze like a gentle touch on his skin. His resolve faltered for a moment, but then he stiffened. No. He wouldn’t let her get to him, no matter how much his body craved her.

He grabbed a blanket and strode out into the night, the cool air a welcome respite from the heat building inside him. The barn loomed ahead, its darkness a refuge from the temptation that was Kara. Except it wasn’t a refuge. As he settled onto the hay, thoughts of her continued to haunt him—her softness, her sweetness, her bright smile and warm heart.

He did his best to push those thoughts aside, to focus. Get the farm running, and then leave. And then, at long last, have his revenge.

He was doing his best to concentrate on that goal when the barn door creaked open, and Kara stood in the doorway, her figure silhouetted against the moonlit sky.

“H’zim, it’s your turn to take the bed,” she said firmly.

“I’m fine here,” he said, trying to sound convincing.

She ignored him and took a step forward, her face determined.

“No, you’re not. You had a long day and you need a good night’s sleep. We agreed to alternate. It’s only fair that you take the bed.”

He sighed, his resolve weakening.

“I don’t want to argue about this.”

She didn’t back down.

“Then why are you being so stubborn? I’m just trying to be fair. And practical.”

Unable to think of a convincing argument, he simply shook his head and she threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Fine. If you’re so determined that I sleep in the bed, why don’t we just share it?”

Share the bed with her? Heat raced down his spine, and for a moment he forgot about his resolve, forgot about his revenge, and forgot about everything except the desire roaring through his body.

He opened his mouth to refuse, but somehow “yes” emerged instead.

“Good.”

She gave him a sunny smile and held out her hand as if she could actually pull him to his feet. The thought amused him and he found himself half-smiling as he rose. As soon as he did, she took his hand and let him back across the yard and into the bedroom, as if she were afraid he’d escape.

He sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the window and toed off his boots. After a moment’s hesitation, he also removed his shirt. That was as far as he was prepared to go, especially with his cock throbbing painfully against the tight confines of his pants.

She was also getting ready for bed and he quickly averted his eyes, trying not to notice the way her hair cascaded like a fiery river down her back. He focused on the wall, his eyes fixed on a small crack in the plaster, but his peripheral vision still caught glimpses of her movements. She seemed to be taking her time, her actions deliberate and slow, as if savoring the moment.

When she finally climbed into bed beside him, his body tensed, his muscles coiled like springs. He lay stiff and rigid, trying to maintain a safe distance between them, but she had no intention of maintaining that distance. She immediately snuggled against his side, her warmth seeping into his skin and her breasts rising and falling tormentingly with the gentle rhythm of her breath.

His heart raced as her hand brushed his chest before settling over his heart. He tried to shift away, to put a little distance between them, but she only snuggled closer, her body molding to his like the other piece of a puzzle. He lay there, frozen, his body a battleground of conflicting desires. Part of him wanted to push her away, to maintain the distance he’d so carefully constructed around himself, but another part of him yearned to hold her close, to let go of his doubts and kiss her, to explore that soft, delightful body.

She didn’t seem to suffer the same anxiety, her breathing quickly settling into the even rhythm of sleep. He remained locked in place, finally letting her soft breathing lull him into a state of uneasy vigilance.

The next thing he knew, morning sunlight was creeping into the room. For a moment he was disoriented, his mind foggy with sleep. Then he felt the soft warmth nestled against him, the lush ass cradling his aching cock. Kara. He’d wrapped himself around her as they slept, his arms holding her possessively. How the hell had that happened? He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, let alone hold her so close.

He hadn’t slept well in years, the memories of war etched into his brain like scars. Ayyla had refused to share a bed with him, citing his restless nights as the reason, although he now realized she simply hadn’t been interested.

Prison had only exacerbated his troubled nights. The solitude and the confinement had amplified the nightmares, making them more vivid, more real. His first few nights of freedom hadn’t stopped them, not in Port Cantor and not here. But with her in his arms he’d slept deeply and peacefully for the first time in years.

He tried to ease himself away but as soon as he shifted her eyes opened. She didn’t seem remotely bothered by the fact that he was clinging to her. Her lips curved into a sweet, sleepy smile and his resolve crumbled. He lowered his head and kissed her.

If the kiss last night had been fierce and possessive, this one was filled with tenderness. She yielded sweetly to his embrace, her lips parting beneath his. He explored her mouth slowly, thoroughly, as her hands came up to curve around his neck. He cupped her face, caressing that smooth freckled cheek, and let his hand drift down to explore the delicate line of her collarbone, and then lower still to the round fullness of her breast. His hand closed over her breast, the nipple a hard point against his palm, and she gasped softly into his mouth.

The sound sent a surge of heat down his spine and he pulled her closer, rolling on top of her so that she was pinned beneath him, his hips between hers. She didn’t object, arching against him. His cock was throbbing painfully, and he rocked against her, the friction against the thin barrier of their clothes sending sparks through his veins. For a moment he lost himself in the sweet, heady rush of desire.

Her nipple stiffened even more beneath his hand and he tugged it, rolling it between his fingers. She moaned, squirming against him, and her legs parted, her softness cradling his straining cock. He slid his hand down to her waist, then even farther, gripping the delicious fullness of her ass and pulling her tighter against him.

Fuck, she was perfect. Soft and sweet and willing. Willing… An icy shard of doubt trickled down his spine. Why was she so willing? He was nothing but a big scarred ex-convict. Had he completely misread her?

“Wait,” he growled, reluctantly lifting his lips from hers.

His body screamed at him to ignore his doubts and claim her, but he ignored the demand. His body had betrayed him before.

“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her red hair was tangled around her face and the top button of her shirt had come open to reveal the upper swell of her breasts. He’d never seen a more tempting sight, but his doubts had taken over.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded. “Do you feel sorry for me?”

“Feel sorry for you? Why would I feel sorry for you? I like you, H’zim.”

She put her hands on his face, brushing her thumb across his scarred cheek, but this time it wasn’t a comfort. It only reminded him of his shortcomings.

“I’m nothing special,” he growled, the self-loathing that had been his constant companion for so long rising to the surface.

“To me, you are.”

Her eyes glowed with such sincerity that for a moment his doubts faltered, but he was too afraid of being manipulated again to let himself believe her.

“Stop it,” he snarled. “Don’t try to play me.”

He rolled off of her and stalked out of the room, his fears propelling him away from her questioning gaze. He needed distance, needed to clear his head, needed to remind himself of his goals.

As he burst into the bright morning air, a measure of control returned. He took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs, and headed for the barn, towards the familiar comfort of hard work and discipline.

CHAPTER 11

Kara sighed as H’zim hastily retreated from the bedroom, his departure leaving her feeling bereft. Under other circumstances she would have been hurt, and truthfully she still was a little, but there had been so much torment in his eyes that she knew it wasn’t really about her. She understood that this was all new to him, that intimacy and trust were foreign concepts after being betrayed by that bitch Ayyla. Still, a pang of disappointment pricked at her heart.

Now what?

She liked him—a lot—and she certainly wanted him. Her body still throbbed with unfulfilled desire, her nipples stiff and aching and her swollen clit a heated pulse between her legs.

Maybe it’s just too soon.

They hadn’t been together for very long after all. Under other circumstances she might have felt guilty about that, but she had surprisingly few regrets. This proud, troubled warrior had already managed to work his way into her heart.

The morning light streaming through the window cast an optimistic glow over the room, and she decided to focus on the positives. She had a home, a chance to rebuild her life, and a fascinating companion who, despite his gruffness, had shown glimpses of kindness.

She threw off the covers and began to get ready for the day, her mind whirling with plans for the farm. There was still so much work to be done, and she was determined to prove herself useful. As she dressed, she hummed to herself, trying to shake off the lingering disappointment.

Time, she decided. He just needed more time to get used to being free, to learn to accept her affection. She would just have to be patient.

TEN DAYS LATER, the last thing Kara was feeling was patient. She’d tried to give H’zim space to work through whatever was going on in that thick head of his, but as the days turned into a week, and then another, her patience began to wear thin.

Their days together were long and productive, filled with the rhythm of farm work. The fences were mended, the wild grains coaxed into growing, and her garden was flourishing. The farm was slowly coming back to life, and she took a great deal of pride in their accomplishments.

But at night, as they lay in bed together, her frustration continued to grow. He’d initially tried to return to the barn, but she’d insisted that either he share the bed with her or she would join him in the barn. He’d agreed more readily than she expected, and that had given her hope—unfulfilled hope as it turned out.

He let her snuggle against him. He even kissed her, but as passionate as those kisses became, he always pulled away, leaving her in a state of constant, aching arousal. He acted as if he didn’t feel the same need, but each morning she woke up with him wrapped around her, his arms holding her close, his legs tangled with hers—and his cock a huge throbbing bar against her butt. It was as if his subconscious was trying to tell her something his conscious mind refused to acknowledge.

She sighed, running her hand down his chest in the dark. He was awake too, his body tense, his breathing slow and deliberate. She could feel his eyes on her, even in the darkness.

“Why do you do this?” she whispered. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

The silence stretched out between them, a heavy, palpable thing, and her heart ached with longing and frustration. She ran her hand up his chest and he groaned, grabbing it before she could touch his face.

“Don’t, Kara,” he growled, his voice anguished.

“Why not? Don’t you want me?”

“Fuck yes,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “But I am not a fit mate for you.”

His grip tightened and then he released her, releasing a long breath as he turned on his side so that his back was to her. She pressed herself against him, her body curving against his as she pressed tiny kisses to his back and shoulders.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said roughly.

“We don’t have to talk.” She let her hand slide down the hard ridges of his abdomen to the waistband of his pants. “I can show you.”

His hand stopped her before she could touch him.

“Enough,” he growled. “Go to sleep.”

He released her hand, his rejection stinging even though he was only inches away. She fell asleep with tears on her face.

The next morning she decided to try a new approach. She put on the yellow dress she’d sewn, the one that accentuated her curves and made her feel like a ray of sunshine, then brushed her hair until it shone before putting it up in the high ponytail she knew he liked.

“It’s time for a break,” she announced, breezing into the kitchen where he was brewing a pot of coffee. “We’re going fishing.”

His gaze snapped to hers, his eyes heating as he took in her dress. She waited breathlessly but he didn’t move from his position.

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of work to be done.” he said, his voice neutral.

“Oh, come on,” she coaxed, giving him a teasing smile. “It’ll be fun. There’s another old rod in the barn. And it’s not as if it would be a complete waste of time—we’ll be restocking our provisions.”

He gave her a skeptical look, but he finally nodded, and together they set out towards the nearby stream.

The sun shone brightly overhead, casting a warm glow over the landscape. Kara chattered merrily as they walked, teasing him about his lack of fishing skills and playfully nudging him with her elbow. He had little to say but his lips quirked with amusement and his body was almost relaxed for once.

As they reached the stream, she deliberately brushed against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she reached for the fishing rod. His eyes flashed to hers, his pupils dilating slightly before he looked away.

The day passed in a haze of laughter and gentle teasing. She caught several fish, but he caught even more, clearly pleased by his success. They were sitting on a grassy bank next to the stream as the shadows began to lengthen.

She’d found multiple opportunities throughout the day to touch him—brushing her lips against his ear, or trailing her fingers down his arm, watching as his eyes darkened with desire. She was also well aware that he’d had an almost constant erection.

Time to see if her plan had worked.

She leaned against him, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

“This is nice,” she sighed, snuggling closer.

“Yes,” he said, his voice almost a rumble in his chest as he put his arm around her.

She put her hand on his thigh, doing her best to make it seem like a casual move, then ran her hand gently back and forth over the hard muscles. With each stroke she came a little closer to the thick ridge of his erection. Her fingertips had just touched it, her heart pounding wildly, when his hand clamped down over hers.

She looked up to find him watching her, dark eyes glittering.

“You’re teasing me,” he growled.

He tried to pull her to her feet, but she twisted around and put her mouth against his. As soon as their lips touched, the kiss ignited, his mouth taking command of hers. He gripped her fiercely as he ravaged her mouth and she clung to him just as tightly.

Yes, she thought triumphantly as his hand closed over her breast, pinching her nipple as she gasped in pleasure. She moaned into his mouth as his hand tightened even more—and then he was gone, pulling back once again.

Her frustration finally boiled over.

“I’ve had enough of this,” she snapped, rising to her feet. “I’ve got better things to do than waste my time waiting for you to make up your damn mind.”

His face darkened, his eyes flashing.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Away from you.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

She flashed him a teasing smile, her heart racing with excitement.

“Watch me,” she said, then turned on her heel and ran.

He immediately took off after her, quickly gaining on her. She laughed, exhilaration filling her as she darted between the trees. She knew she couldn’t outrun him, but she was determined to make him work for it.

She weaved left, then right, her yellow dress fluttering behind her like a banner. H’zim’s roar of frustration echoed through the forest, making her giggle. She was having the time of her life, and she wasn’t about to let him catch her just yet.

CHAPTER 12

H’zim’s boots pounded over the mossy forest floor as he chased after Kara, his long strides eating up the distance between them. Although he was frustrated by his own weakness in allowing her to get under his skin, he was also amused by her sudden burst of independence—not to mention aroused by the tantalizing glimpses of her luscious yellow-clad form darting through the trees. The conflicting emotions warred within him, but his legs kept moving, driven by the urge to catch her.

As he gained on her, he found himself noticing the way her red hair flew behind her like a trail of fire and the way her laughter echoed through the air, infectious and carefree. Fuck, she was perfect. He’d been holding back, resisting the pull between them because he didn’t think it was fair to her to begin a relationship when he still intended to carry out his plan of revenge. But the more time he spent with her, the more he began to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he could return to her afterwards. That maybe he could find a way to reconcile his need for vengeance with his growing feelings for this vibrant, captivating human.

He cornered her in a small clearing, her back pressed against a huge boulder. She watched him warily, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye, and he felt his resolve weakening further.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

She gave him a slow, provocative smile.

“Oh, I think I am,” she said, her voice husky and challenging. “Unless you can catch me.”

She feinted right, then left, and although he matched her movements, she was fast enough to slip past him again.

Their laughter echoed through the trees, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds. For a moment he forgot about his past, forgot about his revenge, and simply enjoyed the thrill of the chase. The thrill of being alive.

He almost had her, his hands outstretched to grab her, when his foot slipped on a slick rock crossing the stream. He cursed as he landed on one knee, water soaking through his pant leg. By the time he regained his footing, she’d vanished into the trees.

Undeterred, he took off again, scanning the landscape for any sign of her. He reached the abandoned farm next to his, his eyes scouring the overgrown fields and dilapidated buildings. A faint rustling noise caught his attention, and he sprinted towards the barn, bursting through the doors with a loud bang.

Instead of Kara, a naked purple male crouched in front of a tiny fragile-looking blonde. He didn’t recognize the woman but the male was Kalpar, one of the members of his former squad.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.

He didn’t like them here so close to his land, especially with Kara alone and unprotected.

“Godsdammit, H’zim, you almost got a knife through your heart.”

“No, I didn’t,” he snapped. “You were too busy mating to pay attention.”

Kalpar’s voice turned low and dangerous.

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I was looking for—”

He decided it was none of Kalpar’s business and ordered them to leave. Kalpar immediately took offense and threatened to claim the abandoned farm. He didn’t really believe him, but he still hated the idea. And even though he trusted Kalpar as much as he trusted anyone other than his brother, he didn’t like the idea of another male so close to his unprotected female.

He ordered them to leave, then turned and strode out of the barn, his mind already racing ahead. He decided to retrace his steps, moving more slowly this time, his senses alert for any sign of her.

As he approached the stream where he’d lost her, he spotted a flash of yellow fabric disappearing into the trees. His heart kicked into high gear, and he took off after her, no longer tempering his speed, his determination to find her and keep her safe driving him on.

He kept his eyes fixed on the yellow dress fluttering ahead of him as he pursued her. His pulse pounded in his temples, his body coiled with tension. He’d had enough of chasing her, enough of denying himself the one thing he wanted most.

As he burst through a thick patch of underbrush, he spotted her, her back against a towering tree, her chest heaving with laughter. His vision narrowed, his focus solely on the spark of mischief in her eyes. He’d had enough of her teasing, enough of her games.

In two strides, he’d covered the distance between them, his arms wrapping around her like steel bands. Her eyes widened, her laughter dying on her lips as he pinned her against the tree, his mouth crashing down on hers.

His kiss was a force of nature, a torrent of pent-up desire and frustration. He claimed her mouth, demanded her surrender, and she gave it to him. Her hands fluttered against his chest, but he wouldn’t be deterred. He’d waited too long for this, denied himself for too long.

Her body arched against his, her fingers curling into his shirt and trying to pull him closer. He obliged, pressing her back against the tree as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed her body, urgent and demanding, and she urged him on with soft, eager cries.

As his lips moved to the soft skin of her neck, his fingers sought the hem of her dress, and he pushed it up, baring her thighs. He pushed his hand between her legs, seeking the soft, wet heat he found there, and her breath hitched as he ran a thick, demanding finger through her swollen folds.

Her gasp was music to his ears, her body trembling beneath his touch. His mouth never left hers as he stroked her, as he found the spot that made her entire body quiver against him. Keeping his thumb on that spot he found her small, sweet entrance, the slick wetness easing his way as he thrust his finger inside the narrow passage.

“H’zim!”

His name on her lips was like an erotic prayer, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t stop, stroking her mercilessly until she shuddered against him, her inner walls rippling around him as she came with a low, keening cry.

He didn’t stop, stroking her through another climax, and then another until her body was so limp he didn’t think she’d be able to stand on her own.

“Better?” he asked as he finally gentled his touch, and her eyelids fluttered open.

“Much better. I should have run from you a week ago.”

“I hope you don’t intend to do it again.”

“Not as long as you keep doing that.”

She gave him her usual sweet, mischievous smile and his heart did an odd little flip.

“It will be my pleasure,” he said solemnly, then scooped her up in his arms as she laughed.

He carried her back to the house, limp and satisfied in his arms. A soft smile played on her lips as she gazed up at him, and he couldn’t help but return the smile, his heart still racing from their encounter.

When they reached the house, he carried her straight to the bedroom, his strides long and purposeful. He placed her on her feet long enough to strip the yellow dress over her head, then lifted her onto the bed, his hands lingering on her skin as he settled her into the pillows. Her eyes drifted open as he paused to admire the creamy skin and the lush curves, her freckles like a map of pleasure. He traced a line from a spray on her chest to a cute little cluster on her stomach.

“I want to kiss every single one of those.”

Her laughter was low and throaty.

“That’s a tall order.”

“One I’m happy to undertake.”

He trailed his lips along her jaw and down her neck, then started working his way across her shoulders, dropping a kiss on each individual freckle. He continued his journey down her chest, nibbling his way across her skin as he lingered on her breasts, his lips tracing lazy circles around the taut dusky peaks.

She sighed happily, her hands weaving through his hair as he lavished her with attention. But when he moved even lower, she tensed, her eyes widening.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I should have done a week ago.”

She stared at him blankly until he parted her knees, pushing her legs apart to expose her glistening pink core.

“Oh,” she said faintly.

“Oh,” he agreed.

He lowered his head and let his tongue trace a leisurely path along her inner thigh, enjoying her soft, muffled moan of pleasure. As he kissed and licked and explored her sensitive skin, she arched her hips, silently urging him on.

It was a request he was happy to accommodate. He spread her knees even wider, exposing her swollen sex and the delicate pink nub just begging to be tasted. He lowered his head, taking his first exquisite taste of her, and she let out a long trembling sigh. He was only getting started.

He swirled his tongue over her delicate flesh, finding the rhythm that made her buck against his mouth and repeating it until she was gasping. He slid one big hand between her thighs, parting her gently. His lips closed over her clit as he worked one thick finger inside her, and then another, stretching her slowly as she whimpered.

“Please,” she moaned, her hips rocking against his hand.

Her husky plea drove him on. He growled, the sound vibrating against her heated flesh, and then he began to pump his fingers, his mouth relentlessly demanding until she cried out, her body shuddering helplessly.

He stayed between her legs, prolonging her orgasm until she was weak and breathless, her body flushed and languid. Only then did he rise, standing back to look at her. She was perfect, her face flushed, her red hair flowing across the pillow, her legs slightly parted to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her rosy center.

His cock surged with need but he ignored it, joining her on the bed and pulling her into his arms.

“I’m glad you caught me,” she said, her voice sleepy and content.

“I’m glad you ran.”

She laughed softly and then she was asleep in his arms. He settled her against him, then looked out into the night and smiled.

CHAPTER 13

Kara woke up to find H’zim’s head between her legs, licking slow, tantalizing circles around her clit. Her body was already quivering, and when he added a little gentle suction she flew headlong into a long, rolling climax. He gave her another long, slow lick, then raised his head and smiled at her.

“Good morning.”

The warmth and pleasure from his touch lingered, her body still humming from the aftershocks, and she reached for him. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers but then he rose to his feet, his massive frame towering over her.

She realized he was already dressed and gave him a confused look.

“Come back to bed,” she whispered, her voice husky from sleep and pleasure.

He shook his head, his eyes flashing with a mixture of desire and regret.

“I’m afraid not. I have work to do.”

“Work? What time is it?”

“It’s morning,” He smiled at her. “You slept all night.”

She sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist, and his eyes went immediately to her breasts but he didn’t come any closer. She didn’t remember falling asleep last night and she didn’t remember him getting out of bed, but the morning light was streaming through the windows.

“I brought you coffee,” he added, holding out a steaming mug.

She sighed happily as she took the mug from him, the aroma filling her senses. She took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her chest.

“Thank you.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss, and she could taste herself on his lips.

“Take it easy today, okay?” he whispered. “I have to get to work.”

She nodded, still feeling a little dazed as he turned and headed out the door. She watched him go, admiring the broad expanse of his back, the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt as he moved.

A sense of contentment washed over her as she took another sip of her coffee, feeling the caffeine start to kick in. She had never felt so…safe, so cared for, in her life. But something niggled at her and she eventually realized what was bothering her. He hadn’t let her touch him—not last night and not this morning.

She set her coffee down, her mind replaying the night before. He’d initiated every kiss, every caress, and when she’d tried to reciprocate, he’d pulled away. It was as if he was afraid of her touching him, of her getting too close.

And this morning… While she couldn’t argue that there was work to be done—there was always work to be done—she started to wonder if he was using it as an excuse. Was he still holding back?

As much as her body hummed with contentment and as much as she’d enjoyed his touch, lovemaking was supposed to be mutual. Lovemaking. Her breath caught in her throat as the realization swept over her. Oh no. She’d gone and fallen in love with the prickly impossible male.

And I have no idea how he feels.

She thought he cared for her—at least as much as he would allow himself to care—but she knew his past still had a grip on him. She’d noticed he never discussed the future except in the vaguest terms, and she had the uneasy feeling he intended to do something stupid.

She finished her coffee, savoring the last drops before setting the cup down, then climbed out of bed. She took a quick bath to wash away the lingering fatigue and stickiness from the night before, then pulled on her work clothes. As she did, she gave her yellow dress a fond smile. It had certainly been worth all those nights of sewing.

Now to find out what was going on in H’zim’s complicated brain.

She found him in the barn, tinkering with the mechanical wagon. As she approached, he manipulated the controls, and the machine came to life with a soft whirr. He looked up, catching her gaze, and a hint of a smile played on his lips.

“It works.”

“I can see that. But what’s holding it together? Fairy dust and magic?”

He smiled, his face relaxed, and she wondered if she’d been worrying about nothing.

“Perhaps. But now that it’s working, I’m going to town,” he added. “I can finally get those supplies we need.”

She’d known all along that that was his intention, but now that the moment had arrived a sudden wave of anxiety washed over her. Was he going to face danger? Was he really just going for supplies? Was he going to leave her behind?

The thought of being abandoned again made her heart race, and she grabbed for his arm.

“Wait, don’t go!”

He covered her hand with his, his touch gentle.

“I won’t be gone long, only as long as it takes to get everything we need. I’ll be back well before dusk.”

“Dusk?” she whispered. “You’re going to be gone all day.”

Tears welled in her eyes as fear and uncertainty threatened to overcome her. H’zim’s expression softened further, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be back, Kara,” he repeated, his voice low and soothing. “Trust me.”

“I… I do,” she whispered, and somehow she managed to smile.

With one last glance at her, he drove off down the road, leaving her standing alone by the barn. She had spent months here by herself but now that she had grown used to his company, the silence pressed in on her ominously.

Pull yourself together, she told herself. Find something to do to keep busy.

Unfortunately, none of her usual chores really distracted her. She was distractedly weeding her garden when she caught a glimpse of a large green figure approaching the barn out of the corner of her eye. He’s back! Relief swept over her so fast she felt dizzy, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she jumped to her feet.

She hadn’t heard the wagon. Had it broken down already? He isn’t going to be happy about that, she thought gaily as she rushed over to the barn.

“Did your fairy dust fail?” she teased as she approached.

The male in front of her turned around, and it took her a shocked moment to realize it wasn’t H’zim. A stranger, a very large and muscular stranger, was staring at her.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “Where is my brother?”

“B-brother? Are you S’kal?”

“Of course I am. Where’s H’zim?”

“He went to town.”

“Town?” S’kal frowned at her, clearly suspicious. “He said he wanted to be alone.”

“Things have changed,” she said helplessly.

S’kal stared at her a moment longer, and then he started to laugh.

“Apparently so.” He looked past her at the neat garden, and at the laundry hanging on the line and the fields they’d cleared, and shook his head. “You’ve done a lot of work.”

“We have,” she agreed, then belatedly remembered her manners. “I’m Kara. Would you like some coffee? Or tea? And I made a pie, but I was a little distracted so it’s browner than it was supposed to be.”

“I…” She suspected he’d been about to refuse, but his face softened as he looked at her. “All right. Do you know when H’zim will be back?”

“He said as soon as possible, but that it might take most of the day. The wagon doesn’t move very quickly.”

S’kal nodded thoughtfully as he followed her into the kitchen, watching as she poured coffee and cut two generous slices of pie.

“I suppose it might, depending on what he intends to get.” He shook his head again as he looked around the kitchen. “I didn’t expect this either. My brother was never very good at keeping things neat and tidy.”

She gave him an eager look, thrilled to learn more about H’zim, but first…

“Not that I mean to be rude, but why are you here? H’zim said you weren’t going to come visit him for a month.”

He sighed.

“This isn’t exactly a social call. I was worried because I heard he was chasing people away from the surrounding property and I was afraid that being out here alone might be getting to him.”

Oh. A giggle escaped as she remembered the previous afternoon. She’d been behind him at that point and she’d heard the interchange between the two males and seen H’zim stomp away just before she’d run into a tiny pretty woman by the well.

“That’s kind of my fault, I’m afraid. We were playing a game and he was a little frustrated. And maybe worried about me,” she added guiltily.

S’kal gave her a stunned look.

“A game? H’zim?”

She shrugged helplessly, not really sure how to explain, and he burst into laughter. She couldn’t resist smiling back but her heart ached a little. If only H’zim could laugh so easily.

“I think you’d better tell me everything,” S’kal said when he stopped laughing.

She nodded and went to refill the coffee pot.

“In that case, I think we’re going to need some more coffee.”

CHAPTER 14

H’zim guided the mechanical wagon through the dusty streets of Wainwright, his mind still on Kara’s worried expression as he drove away. He would have brought her with him, but he was worried about the charges Lucas Trask had threatened to bring. Was she wanted by the law? He brought the wagon to a halt outside the sheriff’s office and climbed down.

The deputy, a scrawny human with a nervous twitch, looked up at him warily.

“Morning, sir. What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for information on a woman named Kara Dalton. Has anyone filed charges against her?”

The deputy’s eyes darted to the side, and for a moment H’zim thought he saw a flicker of fear.

“Ah, yes… Kara. Let me check.”

The deputy vanished into a back room, leaving H’zim to wait. He tapped his scarred knuckles against the counter impatiently, a slow, deliberate rhythm that echoed the beat of his heart.

The deputy reappeared, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“It’s a little complicated,” he said anxiously. “Lucas Trask said he was going to file a complaint against her. Theft, he claimed.”

His jaw clenched, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“What’s the complicated part?”

“Mr. Trask never actually completed the paperwork. He said he didn’t need it anymore.” The deputy gave him a helpless look.

“So there’s no official complaint?”

“No, sir.”

Good. He would make sure it stayed that way.

He thanked the deputy and left, his heart considerably lighter. Next stop the store. Then he intended to find Lucas. He smiled grimly. He suspected he was going to enjoy that meeting a lot more than Lucas would.

He drove the wagon farther down the street, coming to a halt outside the general store, taking a quick look around before he climbed down. He found himself hoping that he wouldn’t run into any of the other members of his squad, especially S’kal. He didn’t want to explain his business to them, especially after his insistence on being left alone.

Strange. He hadn’t even thought about that when he’d left the farm earlier—he’d simply been focused on the next step in their improvements. So I can get the farm running and leave? The thought stopped him dead in his tracks.

I don’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave the farm, but even more importantly, he didn’t want to leave Kara. If he was worried about her when he was only going to be gone for a few hours, how much worse would it be if he were hundreds of miles away?

I don’t have to decide yet, he reminded himself, trying to ignore the rush of relief at the thought.

The store’s sign creaked in the gentle breeze, reading General Goods in faded letters. As he pushed open the door, a bell above it jingled to announce his arrival. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of soap and spices and coffee. Shelves upon shelves of goods stretched towards the ceiling, making even the cavernous space feel cramped. Several humans were already shopping but they only spared him a quick nervous glance. S’kal had told him that the town had become accustomed to aliens, and it appeared he was right.

A red-haired man was helping a female who was dithering over lengths of fabrics while the shopkeeper’s wife chatted to a human male at the counter, but the shopkeeper beckoned him over.

“Can I help you, sir?”

He nodded and approached the counter, listing off the supplies he needed: groceries, dry goods, and tools for the farm.

“I’ll also take some chickens if you’ve got them.” He looked over at the end of the counter where the female was still poring over bolts of cloth. “And a length of that fabric with the yellow flowers.”

“Yes, sir.”

The shopkeeper nodded enthusiastically, clearly pleased by the size of his order. As he bustled around putting it together, his wife came to join them but it was clear she was more interested in gossip than assistance. He let her pry the fact that he was living on the farm out of him, then ignored all of her other questions.

“No wife?” she asked, her eyes sparkling maliciously. “Seems like most of you aliens are hooked up with human women.”

“Hush, Miranda,” the shopkeeper ordered, but she ignored him.

“Not that I can entirely blame them. That man who was in here just now? He might be wealthy and good-looking but he makes my skin crawl. He was just bragging about setting his sights on that poor little scientist gal.” She tittered. “‘Course I doubt she gets many other offers, skinny and plain like she is.”

“Enough.” The shopkeeper’s voice was harsher this time. “Lucas is a good customer, and I don’t want no trouble.”

“Lucas?” he asked sharply. “The man who was just here?”

“That’s right. He’s a cattle broker, a wealthy one too.”

His wife sniffed disdainfully, but H’zim was already heading for the door.

“I’ll be right back. You can start loading the wagon.”

He strode rapidly down the wooden sidewalk, searching for the human. Lucas was a shade taller than most males so he should be easy enough to spot. Even so he might have missed him if it hadn’t been for the sharp exclamation from a narrow alley between two buildings.

Lucas was looming over a tall, slender female. Even though she was wearing spectacles, H’zim saw her eyes flash defiantly before she kneed Lucas swiftly and accurately in the groin. He doubled over, gasping out a curse.

“I hope that will teach you not to accost another woman,” she said coldly. “Did you know it only takes seven pounds of pressure to rip off an ear? Come near me again and you’ll lose both of them.”

The woman came towards him, her head held high, and he gave her a respectful nod. She returned it, her only reaction to the incident two spots of color high on her cheekbones.

He didn’t wait to see where she went. Instead, he strode down the alleyway, looming over Lucas. The human’s face was twisted in pain and anger, but H’zim didn’t care.

“Bitch,” Lucas spat, glaring after the woman. “She’s going to pay for that.”

“No, she’s not,” he growled. “You aren’t going to touch a hair on her head.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed, glaring up at him, and he pushed himself painfully to his feet.

“Do you know who I—”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m telling you to stay away from the women in this town, especially Kara Dalton.”

“You,” Lucas spat, his voice venomous. “You’re harboring her, aren’t you?”

He didn’t respond. He simply loomed ominously over Lucas, his massive frame casting a shadow over the human. Lucas tried to take a step back, his eyes darting towards the alleyway entrance, but H’zim’s hand shot out, grasping Lucas’s arm and pulling him back.

“We’re not done,” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

His grip on the man’s arm tightened as he leaned in, his face inches from the human’s.

“Leave Kara alone,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Leave every female in this town alone. You don’t belong here, and you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.”

Lucas’s eyes flashed with defiance, and he sneered up at H’zim.

“Or what? I’m not afraid of you, any of you. Damn interfering aliens.”

He didn’t bother to respond verbally. He simply pulled out a knife, the silver blade glinting in the dim alleyway, and pressed it against Lucas’s crotch, the point digging into the fabric of his pants.

Lucas’s eyes went wide, and he gulped, his face paling.

“You wouldn’t,” he stammered.

“Oh, but I would,” he said coldly. “You’re not worthy of being a man.”

Lucas’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for an escape, but there was none. He finally nodded, a jerky, frightened movement, and H’zim pulled the knife back. As he did he reversed the blade and slammed the hilt against Lucas’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. The man’s eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp, unconscious.

H’zim stood over him, his chest heaving with anger, his hand still clenched around the knife.

“Puny human,” he muttered, and turned to leave.

A short time later H’zim drove slowly out of town, satisfied with the day’s events. His business with Lucas was concluded, and he was bringing home the supplies they needed along with a small bonus—a cow and calf, tied behind the wagon. The gentle lowing of the cow and the calf’s playful bleats were a soothing accompaniment to the rhythmic creaking of the wagon’s metal frame.

He had to drive at a slower pace than usual to accommodate them, but he was confident he’d be back at the farm well before dark. The landscape rolled by, a gentle undulation of hills and fields, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers.

As he approached the crossroads with the trade route, he saw two men on horseback waiting at the intersection. They were trying to appear casual, but they watched intently as he approached. One was dressed in dusty leather, a rifle slung over his shoulder, while the other wore a faded denim jacket, a handgun holstered at his hip. His instincts prickled, but he slowed the wagon to a stop.

CHAPTER 15

H’zim waited impassively as the two men approached him, their faces weathered and worn, their gazes cold and calculating. Even the cow and calf quieted, as if they sensed his tension.

“You H’zim?” the one in leather asked, his voice low and rough.

He nodded, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his knife.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the other man said, his hand hovering near his gun. “You received the message, I take it?”

His jaw clenched as he thought back to the note pinned to the door.

“I did. What do you want?”

The man in leather smiled, a cold, mirthless smile.

“You know why we’re here. Your debt is due. And it’s time to pay up.”

“What’s the price?” he asked, his voice even.

The man in leather leaned forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Nothing terribly difficult—just a simple errand.”

“What do you want me to do?”

The man smiled, a cold, calculating smile.

“It’s simple enough. We have pinpointed an area on the farm that houses semiprecious stones—pretty but not particularly valuable. My employer just needs you to confirm their presence.”

He frowned at the other man, knowing it couldn’t be that simple.

“Why?” he asked, his hand tightening on the reins.

The man in denim snorted.

“It’s none of your damn business. But unless you obey, ending up back in jail will be the least of your worries.”

The memory of the dark, cramped cell he’d endured for so long washed over him, making his skin crawl. He wouldn’t go back there, not without a fight. But this wasn’t the time for it.

“What’s the location?” he demanded impatiently.

The man in leather pulled out a rough map, pointing to an area not too far from his own farm, alongside a stream that cut across that side of the property.

“Here. Check it out and then bring back a jewel to confirm you were there. Meet us back here at sunset tomorrow.”

“That isn’t enough time, not if you want me to avoid suspicion.”

The two men exchanged a glance, and then the one in leather nodded.

“Fine. Two days, but no more. And don’t think about trying to cross us. We’ll be watching you—you and that pretty little pet human of yours.”

His hand clenched on the control wheel, enraged at the implied threat against Kara, but he managed to keep his face expressionless as he nodded.

“I’ll be here in two days.”

“Good. We’ll be waiting for your confirmation.”

The two men rode away without another word, but he didn’t think they were going far. He started the wagon again and resumed his journey, turning over possible solutions. He needed a chance to think, to plan, and to come up with a strategy to get out of this mess.

As he turned into the farm’s driveway, he spotted a familiar figure standing by the barn. S’kal. Even though his brother had broken his promise not to come for a visit, a wave of relief washed over him at the sight of his brother.

He parked the wagon and jumped down, but before he could go to his brother, a small red-haired tornado barreled into him. As he wrapped his arms around Kara, she tilted her face up towards his, her lips soft and yielding as he kissed her.

He longed to linger there, to bask in the sensation of her soft curves, her lush breasts pressed against his chest, but S’kal cleared his throat pointedly, reminding him that they were not alone. With great reluctance, he pulled back, and she smiled up at him, her eyes damp but her face radiant.

“Thank God, you’re back. I was so worried.”

“There was nothing to worry about. Everything in town went very smoothly.”

Which was true enough as far as it went. He planned to tell her everything, but he wanted to talk to S’kal first. He looked over at his brother, giving him a level stare.

“I didn’t expect you for at least a month.”

S’kal shrugged. “I suppose you could say I’m here on official business.”

“They were worried you were going crazy because you were so mean to that man in the barn,” Kara said cheerfully.

“I wasn’t mean to Kalpar. I just told him to get the fuck away from my land.”

She raised an eyebrow and he sighed.

“I may have been a little… harsh, but you were out there on your own.”

She laughed and hugged him, then glanced from his face to S’kal’s.

“I have the distinct feeling that you need to talk. I’ll go and start on supper.”

“We’ll put the animals away, then bring in the rest of the supplies,” he promised.

She hugged him again, then danced away, pausing long enough to coo over the cow and calf and stroke their noses. He suddenly wished she were stroking him instead, but he needed to provide for her safety first.

“She’s right,” he said quietly to S’kal. “We need to talk.”

His brother’s expression immediately turned serious.

“What is it?”

“I never told you why I was released early,” he said softly as they led the cow and calf to their new home.

“I noticed you were remarkably vague about it, but I was too happy you were free to question it.”

“I made a deal with the devil. I agreed to perform an unspecified favor at a future date.”

A muscle in S’kal’s jaw ticked, but then he sighed.

“I suppose I can’t really blame you. I would probably have done anything to be free of that place as well.” S’kal gave him an all too perceptive glance. “I take it that favor has come due?”

He told S’kal about his conversation with the two men and his brother nodded. The news didn’t seem to come as a shock to him and H’zim frowned at him as they returned to the wagon for the chickens.

“You knew?”

“Not exactly. We knew Marshall was searching for something, but we didn’t know what until Kalpar returned.”

“Marshall? You don’t mean Marshall Thompson?”

Marshall was one of the biggest crime lords in Port Cantor, although he tried to conceal it behind the facade of a respectable businessman. If Marshall was behind this, he really had made a deal with the devil.

S’kal nodded grimly.

“We’ve just started putting the final pieces together. I think you need to come and talk to Temel and Tomlin.”

“Tomlin? What’s he got to do with it?”

He heard enough about the man’s talents from his brother over the years not to be entirely surprised, but Tomlin was only human after all.

“You can never be entirely sure with Tomlin,” S’kal said, grinning. “But he’s the one who put the pieces together about the jewels.”

“Does he know why they’re so important? Was the man wrong about them not being particularly valuable?”

“I don’t think so, but there’s definitely something going on. Please come to the main farm tomorrow—we all need to talk.”

He hesitated then nodded.

“All right.”

S’kal helped him carry the last load of tools into the barn, then nodded and clapped his shoulder.

“Good. Now please make my apologies to Kara, but I need to get home. Evie is pregnant and I don’t like to leave her alone for this long.”

S’kal dropped the news into the conversation so casually that it took a minute for it to penetrate.

“Pregnant? Your mate is pregnant?”

A broad smile crossed his brother’s face as he nodded.

“Congratulations,” he said sincerely. “I’m very happy for both of you. You didn’t waste any time, did you?” he added, grinning.

S’kal shook his head ruefully.

“None at all. The medic thinks Evie probably became pregnant the first time we were together. He warned me that the fertility restrictors the military gave us can lose their effectiveness over time.” S’kal gave him a curious look. “Which means that you and Kara…”

He shook his head, feeling an unexpected pang of regret.

“I had it renewed here on Cresca.”

He didn’t want to tell his brother that Ayyla had insisted. At the time he’d been offended that she hadn’t been willing to take his word for it, but now he could only be grateful.

“I see.” S’kal smiled at him as he led out his horse. “Then I suppose you and your mate can pick the right time to have it reversed.”

Mate.

The words rang in his ears as S’kal mounted and rode off. Of course Kara was his mate. How could he have been so blind to the fact for so long? Now it was time to claim her properly—but first he had to tell her the truth.

CHAPTER 16

Kara looked up from the stove and smiled happily when H’zim returned to the house. Her happiness was replaced by concern when she saw the look on his face. He looked tired and worried.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“S’kal sent his apologies but he couldn’t stay. He had to get home to his mate,” he said instead of answering her question.

“That’s all right. I’m happy to have you all to myself. But I still want to know what’s wrong.”

He seemed to be at a loss for words. After studying his face for a moment, she banked the stove and pushed all the pots to the back, then took his hand, leading him to the bedroom. He didn’t object, but she could feel the tension in his body, his palm stiff in hers.

“What is it?” she asked, as soon as they were inside the bedroom with the door closed. “You can tell me,” she added softly, squeezing his hand.

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, and finally met her gaze. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the struggle to reveal something he’d rather keep hidden.

“I was intercepted on the way home,” he said finally and her heart skipped a beat.

“But you’re all right? They didn’t hurt you?”

He shook his head impatiently but didn’t add anything.

“What did they want?”

“It’s about the note,” he said, his voice gruff.

“What about it?”

His eyes dropped, focusing on their entwined hands, but he didn’t answer her directly.

“I was supposed to serve three more years in jail, but not long before I came here a man showed up in my cell. He told me he could have me released. The only condition was that he would call on me for a favor in the future.” His eyes met hers, anguish in their depths. “I took the bargain, even though I had no idea what I would have to do. At that point I would have done anything to be free.”

She looked up at him for a minute, then shook her head.

“Nonsense,” she said briskly. “I don’t believe that at all.”

“You should,” he growled. “I was a desperate male.”

“You say anything. Would you kill someone?”

He hesitated, suddenly looking unsure.

“I wish I could say no, but perhaps.”

The very fact that he said perhaps argued against his assertion, but she pushed it a little further.

“Would you kill a woman?”

He gave her a horrified look.

“Of course not.”

“Not even Ayyla?”

He didn’t respond quite as quickly, but he eventually shook his head.

“No. I couldn’t have done that.”

“There, you see? You wouldn’t—you won’t—do anything they want. But what do they want? They don’t want you to kill someone, do they?” she added nervously, and a corner of his mouth actually rose.

“No. No killings. They want me to go to a stream here on the farm and dig out a jewel.”

“A valuable jewel?”

“Not especially.”

“Why do I think it’s not as innocuous as it sounds?”

“Because you are a very smart little female. The man behind all this is the worst kind of crime lord, the kind who pretends to be a respectable businessman. He had a motive and it can’t be a good one.” He hesitated. “I told S’kal. He wants me—us—to go to the main farm tomorrow and talk about it. They’ve had previous run-ins with his men.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” she said encouragingly. Even though he’d wanted to avoid everyone, she suspected it might do him good.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not disgusted by my lack of honor?”

“I don’t believe you’ve ever lacked honor, H’zim,” she said fiercely.

He stared at her, dark eyes burning.

“I need you,” he said, his voice low and rough, and her heart skipped a beat.

She didn’t need to ask what he meant; she knew. He needed her comfort, her support—her love.

Without a word, she reached out and began to undress him. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the scarred muscular chest beneath. He didn’t stop her, didn’t push her away. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, his eyes never leaving hers.

This was the first time he’d let her touch him, really touch him, and she took her time. His skin was warm, his muscles tense beneath her fingers. She could feel the coiled power in his body as she stroked her hands over his skin.

He shuddered as her hands trailed lower, exploring his abs, tracing the indentations of his waistband. His breath came in harsh pants, dark eyes glittering when she finally freed his erection, his cock springing free between them, thick and powerful and… not human. A series of ridges circled the shaft just below the head, with another series around the broad base.

Her breath caught as arousal shivered down her spine. Her clit throbbed a demanding pulse, but this was about him right now, not about her. She slid her hand up and down the thick, hard shaft, the skin silky beneath her fingers, enjoying the way he shivered at her touch. Liquid pearled around the three small openings on the wide head, and she impulsively leaned down and licked away the shining drops.

He shuddered again, and then his hands came up to cover hers. She started to panic, thinking he was retreating again, but when she looked up at him his eyes burned with dark, hungry fire.

“I need you now,” he said roughly, pulling her up and into his arms.

His mouth came down over hers, hot and demanding, and she met him eagerly as he backed her towards the bed, never releasing her mouth as he began to tear at her clothing. He stripped away her dress and underthings, but she only had a moment to appreciate his nakedness and the sleek, powerful lines of his body before he came down over her.

His cock pressed against her belly as he ravaged her mouth, his hands moving frantically over her body. He caressed her breasts, tugging urgently at her aching nipples, and she arched against him, her hips rising to meet his. He growled, the sound vibrating against her mouth, and then she felt the pressure against her core as he nudged her legs apart.

A long, low groan escaped her as the tip of his cock pushed against her entrance. Her body resisted at first but she was so hot and wet that he simply slid inside. He was so big, so impossibly thick, and she squirmed under him, trying to adjust to his size. He rocked his hips, working himself a little deeper with every thrust until she thought she might scream from the pleasure of it.

Her entire body felt flushed and tight as he continued to slowly, steadily work himself into her, inch by delicious inch.

“Yes,” she moaned. “I want all of you.”

She didn’t know if he’d understood her plea, but he finally gave her what she needed with one long, smooth stroke. The feel of those strange, exotic ridges stroking against her inner walls made her gasp and arch up against him, begging for more.

His breathing came in ragged pants as he braced himself above her, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Need to go slow,” he groaned.

She reached up, cupping his face with her hands and stroking her thumb across his scar.

“No,” she said fiercely, “Don’t hold back. I need all of you.”

He shuddered, his eyes closing for a brief second, then drew back, almost withdrawing, before slamming into her with a ferocity that sent a shockwave of pleasure through her body. She gasped and he did it again, then again, each plunge forcing her closer and closer to the edge.

He took her hands, pressing them to the mattress as he moved faster, harder. She groaned, the slide of those strange, erotic ridges against her sensitive flesh pushing her towards her release almost immediately.

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he claimed her with long, sure strokes, each one bumping against the edge of her orgasm. Her hips rose to meet him as her pussy fluttered and spasmed around him.

“Let go,” he whispered. “I’m with you.”

She came with a cry, her entire body shaking with the force of her orgasm. He growled, his hips pumping faster, harder, as he chased his own pleasure.

“You’re mine, Kara.” He pounded into her, his voice fierce. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Never,” she echoed. “I’ll never let you go. I love you.”

He gasped as her pussy clenched down on him, dragging his own release from him. His body tensed above her as he spilled his seed in long shuddering bursts, before collapsing down over her and wrapping her in his arms.

The moment stretched between them, timeless and perfect. She hugged him just as tightly, holding him close, and he buried his face in her hair with a sigh.

“I love you,” he whispered, and she felt his cock move within her again. “My beautiful, perfect mate.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks as she clung to him, unwilling to let him go.

He shifted, rolling onto his back and taking her with him. She sprawled across his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart against her cheek. His hand stroked her hair, soothing her, and she tried to stem the flow of tears.

“It will be all right, my love,” he murmured. “I’ll protect you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said, her voice choked. “It’s you. Those men…”

“They aren’t going to hurt me,” he said firmly.

There was enough conviction in his voice that she finally started to relax, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.

“Sleep now, Kara. I’m here.”

H’ZIM CRADLED Kara close as she slept, her words still echoing in his mind.

“She loves me,” he whispered into the dark room.

He still couldn’t believe it. This little human, with her bright smile and warm heart had somehow managed to breach the walls he’d built around himself. The anger and bitterness that had driven him for so long seemed to be melting away, replaced by a sense of calm.

As he gazed down at her peaceful face, contentment filled him for the first time in many, many years. It was as if the weight of his past, the burden of his revenge, had finally been lifted. He felt as if he could breathe again.

He also realized that his quest for vengeance had lost its appeal. The thought of leaving her side, of taking unnecessary risks, filled him with a sense of dread. He didn’t want to lose her, not now that he’d found her.

And it no longer seemed so important. As they’d worked together over the past few weeks, his hatred and bitterness had started to fade. They hadn’t disappeared, but they were no longer driving his life. His thoughts turned to the future instead, and for once, it didn’t seem so bleak. He imagined building a life with her here on the farm, laughing and arguing—and chasing each other through the woods, he thought with a smile.

The image of Kara, pregnant and radiant, flashed before his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. He’d never thought about having children before, but now the idea didn’t seem so impossible.

He’d been given a second chance. He didn’t have to be bound by his past anymore. He could choose a different path, one that led to happiness and fulfillment.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He had defined himself by his anger for so long, he wasn’t sure who he was without it. But as he looked down at her, he knew he was ready to find out.

The sound of her gentle breathing brought him back to the present, and he smiled, grateful for this little human who’d changed his life so profoundly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead, and whispered, “I love you too, Kara.”

CHAPTER 17

Kara bounced excitedly on the wagon seat next to H’zim as they headed to the main farmhouse the next morning. She’d watched these people from a distance, fascinated by their camaraderie and the sense that they were a family, no matter how different they were, and now she was about to meet them.

The summer sun cast a warm glow over the landscape as they came over a slight crest and the farm spread out in front of them, peaceful and prosperous-looking. Pastures filled with cattle mingled with fields heavy with grain. The big white farmhouse was at the center, like a mother hen watching over her chicks.

She glanced over at H’zim, curious about his reaction, but he was scowling again. Was he dreading this visit that much? She reached over and slid her hand into his. He squeezed it almost desperately, but some of the tension left his shoulders.

As they reached the wide drive in front of the farmhouse, the door opened and a pretty plump woman hurried out giving them a warm smile.

“I’m Ida, Temel’s wife. Welcome.”

Kara liked her immediately and smiled back.

“Thank you. We’re happy to be here.”

H’zim helped her down from the wagon, then tensed again as they turned towards the stairs. A second person had emerged—a big blue alien with towering horns and an indefinable air of command. She didn’t need Ida’s murmured introduction to know that he had to be Commander Temel.

“Commander,” H’zim said stiffly.

“Just Temel is fine,” Temel said calmly as he studied H’zim’s face. His eyes were far too discerning and she was glad he wasn’t focused on her. “How is the farm working out for you?”

“Fine.”

H’zim was still rigid with tension, and she jumped into the gap.

“We’re enjoying it very much. We’ll be able to harvest some grain this year and my garden is doing remarkably well.”

Temel turned that intimidating gaze on her, but he no longer looked quite so stern. Tired perhaps, but also kind, and she smiled at him.

“This is my mate, Kara,” H’zim said awkwardly. “Kara, this is Commander Temel.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Kara,” Temel said courteously and she echoed him.

A brief, awkward silence fell and then a small boy poked his head around the door, his eyes widening when he saw her.

“The fairy lady!” He came rushing down the steps and threw his arms around her waist. “I missed you,” he said indignantly.

“I missed you too, Tommy, but I was… needed somewhere else.”

“Are you here to tell me another story?” he demanded, and everyone laughed.

The tension eased, and even H’zim relaxed a little.

“Come into the kitchen,” Ida urged. “I just made some cookies.”

“Cookies!” Tommy yelled and charged off ahead of them.

More people waited in the kitchen. Ida introduced them as Kalpar and Constance. She immediately recognized the petite blonde from their brief encounter outside the barn next door, and Constance recognized her too.

“So you are real! I almost managed to convince myself I’d imagined the whole thing.”

“I’m definitely real,” she laughed.

Kalpar and H’zim were eyeing each other warily, but Kalpar finally sighed.

“You should have told me you were newly mated. I thought you were going mad.”

“Not entirely,” H’zim said calmly.

Kalpar stared at him for a moment, then laughed.

She watched as the two of them talked and realized that despite H’zim’s concerns, his bond with the other warriors was still intact.

S’kal joined them a few minutes later, accompanied by his very tiny wife. S’kal smiled down at her as he brought Evie over and introduced her. Evie grinned and gave her a quick, impulsive hug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered. “S’kal worries about H’zim so much.”

“I think things are getting better.”

“I know they are. I understand congratulations are in order.”

Evie beamed at her. “I’m so excited. What about you?”

She shook her head but couldn’t help a slight pang of envy. What would it be like to feel H’zim’s child growing inside her?

“If you decide to do that one day, just be prepared,” Evie warned her. “You think they’re over protective now? Just wait until you’re pregnant.”

As if in response to her words, S’kal came over to join them, picking Evie up and depositing her gently in one of the chairs around the big kitchen table.

“You need to stay off your feet.”

“Yes, sir,” Evie murmured, rolling her eyes at Kara, and she had to turn away to suppress a laugh.

As they all laughed and chatted, she felt a sense of belonging wash over her. These people, H’zim’s friends and family, were accepting her with open arms. She was no longer the stranger watching from the periphery of their lives.

Ida finally let out a sigh, breaking the spell of warmth and laughter.

“I suppose the two of you are here on business,” she said to Kara, her tone practical and no-nonsense. “Why don’t we get started on lunch while the boys go off to talk?”

She shot a quick glance at H’zim but he nodded and rose, all of the warriors following Temel out of the kitchen. Constance wandered towards the front of the house while Evie took Tommy outside to play.

She was a little disappointed that the moment of connection had been interrupted, but as she joined Ida at the kitchen counter, she was still grateful for this newfound sense of belonging. She began to help Ida chop vegetables, the rhythmic motion soothing her as they worked together in comfortable silence.

Finally Ida shot her a curious glance.

“Is it lonely for you, out there on that farm away from everyone else?”

“Actually, I love it.” She looked up from the carrots to find the other woman gazing at her sympathetically. “I’m not afraid of hard work, and the two of us have made good progress. The fields are cleared, the garden is planted, and the chicken coop is finished.”

Ida smiled at her, and Kara took a deep breath.

“But I was lonely, before H’zim arrived. I’d been… hiding out on that farm for several months.”

“On an abandoned farm? By yourself? Oh, you poor thing.”

Ida gave her a quick hug and she returned it, but she couldn’t relax completely until she’d told her the entire story.

“H’zim told me that he didn’t actually go through with it, but a man named Lucas Trask was going to accuse me of theft. He was trying to blackmail me into sleeping with him.”

Ida made a moue of disgust.

“I’ve run into him a few times in town. He’s never shown any particular interest in me, but he was definitely interested in my daughter Dora—or at least he was until her husband Naffon accompanied her to town. He had the sense to back off then. The man is a menace.”

“H’zim threatened to cut off his balls if he went after another woman.”

H’zim had told her about their encounter as they drove over to the farm and she’d thoroughly enjoyed picturing the scene. Ida’s eyes widened, and then she laughed.

“A suitable fate. Do you think he’ll listen?”

“I don’t know, but H’zim spoke to the shopkeeper and told him to send word if he heard about Lucas doing anything like that again. He thought the shopkeeper’s wife would know if there were any rumors about his behavior.”

Ida nodded a little ruefully. “Miranda Anderson is one of the biggest gossips in town—but it’s nice to think that might be helpful for once.” She reached out and put a gentle hand on Kara’s arm. “I wish you’d known to come to me. I would have helped you.”

Unexpected tears threatened to fill Kara’s eyes as she gave Ida a watery smile.

“Thank you. I felt so alone at the time.” She hesitated, then blurted out the rest of her story. “Because I was lonely, I used to watch the farm sometimes, watch all of you. I didn’t mean any harm, but everyone seemed so happy and it made me feel less lonely.”

The other woman didn’t seem disturbed by her confession, nodding slowly.

“I suspected as much when Tommy announced that you were the fairy. I’m sorry you were so alone.”

“I was for a long time, but now I have H’zim.”

“And us,” Ida said firmly. “We’re a family. A sometimes dirty one,” she added with a laugh as Evie returned with a very grubby Tommy. “If you’ll finish up the vegetables while I try to find the little boy underneath all that dirt, we’ll have everything ready to go by the time they finish their meeting.”

She nodded happily, feeling a thousand times lighter after her confession. A family—a somewhat odd family perhaps—but a family nonetheless. She only hoped that H’zim’s meeting was equally successful.

CHAPTER 18

H’zim followed the others into Temel’s office, his stomach churning with unease. It was a large comfortable room, with bookcase-lined walls and a large window overlooking the farm. A man dressed in black was standing by the large desk—tall for a human and lean rather than bulky, his face perfectly composed and expressionless. He had to be Tomlin.

S’kal confirmed his guess by greeting Tomlin as they all took their seats. Temel sat down behind the big desk and steepled his fingers, regarding him thoughtfully. That discerning gaze had always made him uncomfortable, and his usual reaction would have been to scowl at the other male. This time he did his best to keep his expression neutral.

“S’kal says you have some news for us, H’zim.”

He cleared his throat, automatically assuming a military position.

“Two men intercepted me on my way back from town. They want me to confirm the presence of a source of semiprecious stones on this land.” He paused, his gaze drifting to the floor. “In exchange for not sending me back to prison.”

The room fell silent, the only sound the creaking of the old wooden chairs. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, fearing he’d see judgment or worse, disappointment.

Temel broke the silence, his voice measured.

“What made them think you’d agree to this?”

He shrugged, feeling trapped.

“They threatened to send me back to jail if I didn’t comply. I originally… agreed to such a bargain in order to be set free. Not this specific arrangement,” he added quickly. “Just to a future request.”

Temel nodded thoughtfully, but he didn’t seem as appalled as he had feared.

“Did they say what they want with these stones?”

“No, other than assuring me that they were of no great value.”

Kalpar leaned forward.

“Is this what Marshall has been searching for all along?”

“Yes,” Tomlin said calmly.

He looked over at Temel and the commander pulled out a tray containing an elaborate necklace and tiara, both covered with glittering purple stones. Tomlin gestured at the jewelry, but H’zim noticed that he didn’t touch it.

“We call these stones morchev. It is correct to say that they are semi-precious. They have little intrinsic value. They are not even that uncommon although they are usually much smaller. Gems of this size are very rare, although still not of great wealth, and I suspect the ones on this land are larger still.”

“If they don’t have any great value, why is Marshall trying to locate the source?” Kalpar demanded impatiently.

“Because gems of this size, this age, have a unique… resonance,” Tomlin said slowly. “One that affects certain… psychic abilities.”

H’zim had the impression that the other male was choosing his words very carefully, but he appeared to be telling the truth.

“On their own they could be dangerous,” Tomlin continued. “But only to certain individuals and only at very close range.”

“And when they are not on their own?” Temel asked, and a flicker of expression crossed Tomlin’s face, the first tiny crack in his composure.

“I’m not sure how much any of you know about plebanium, but it is found within a substrate of a white clay-like substance. Again a substance of no particular value, but if it is processed into a dry powder and combined with the morchev… it results in a very dangerous type of weapon.”

“More than any other weapon?” Kalpar asked skeptically.

“Yes, because it is a psychic weapon, one that can control the behavior of others.”

A sudden appalled silence fell over the room.

“Mind control?”

Kalpar was still trying to sound doubtful, but H’zim heard the underlying worry in his voice.

“Yes, and with a large enough supply of both gems and substrate and a large enough weapon, it could extend over a wide area.”

“How wide?” Temel asked quietly.

“Enough to cover a good portion of Port Cantor, although as I said it would require a very large supply.”

“Like the one here on our property?” he asked grimly, and Tomlin nodded.

Muttered curses filled the room, and Kalpar shook his head.

“How the hell did Marshall find out about this?”

“Because that’s what he does.” Constance was standing in the doorway, her face pale but her voice remarkably composed. Kalpar immediately went to her side, wrapping a protective arm around her as she continued. “He obtains information from anywhere he can find it. He has an extensive library, both digital and physical, and a huge network of people bringing him pieces of information all the time, all of which are stored and analyzed.”

His brother frowned at Tomlin.

“How did you know about the effects, Tomlin?”

“My… family has stories about the morchev, although they have always been kept secret. I am embarrassed to admit that I did not connect the pieces until Lady Constance brought the jewelry here.”

“Do you really think Marshall is trying to develop a weapon to take over people’s minds?” he asked.

“Yes,” Constance said immediately, even though a tear trickled down her cheek. “He values control over almost everything else. Why else would he have been willing to marry me off simply to gain access to an expired plebanium mine? If he can develop a weapon of this type, he will use it.”

“Fuck. I should have killed him when I had the chance.” Kalpar gave his mate a hesitant look. “I’m afraid that—”

“No,” Tomlin interrupted, his voice so cold it sent a chill down H’zim’s spine. “That will be my pleasure. My apologies, Lady Constance,” he added.

Despite the polite expression of regret, he clearly didn’t intend to be swayed from his intentions. Constance nodded, her face even paler, and Kalpar gave a frustrated growl.

“Why did he need to send me to find out about the morchev?” H’zim asked, and Temel sighed.

“Because his previous efforts failed. We have a monitor in place around most of the farms—although it doesn’t yet extend as far as your farm, H’zim. We intercepted some early attempts, but at the time we didn’t realize their intentions. Then he tried sending someone to infiltrate the farm. It didn’t end well for them.”

“And that’s why he arranged to have me released?”

Temel nodded. “I assume so. He must have been confident that you would eventually show up here.”

“There might be others,” Constance said quietly. “He usually has a backup plan or three.”

“Perhaps, but I believe only one of us could be successful.”

And I was the one who could be corrupted, he thought bitterly.

“What do we do about the men who are waiting for H’zim’s response?” his brother demanded.

“I suggest that Lord H’zim give them one of the jewels from this necklace,” Tomlin said calmly.

“Won’t they be able to tell?”

“Eventually—but by then it will be too late. Marshall will be dead.”

The utter conviction in Tomlin’s voice sent a shiver down his spine, and Constance flinched. Kalpar growled again, but she put a restraining hand on his arm.

“It’s all right. I understand. We can’t let him do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If you will excuse me,” Tomlin said politely, and bowed. “I will go and prepare.”

The human left the room, moving as silently as any warrior, and he frowned after him.

“Do you really think—”

“We will leave you as well,” Kalpar interrupted, already guiding Constance out of the room. “We’ll be at home when… you have news.”

H’zim looked at his brother and Temel, then tried his question again.

“Do you really think Tomlin can eliminate Marshall?” He found it difficult to believe that a human could get past Marshall’s security.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

Temel and S’kal responded at the same time, both of them sounding equally certain, so he let it drop. Temel pried one of the stones out of the tiara and handed it to him. He took it cautiously but it didn’t seem any different to any other stone. He sighed and tucked it in his pocket.

“I’ll smear some mud on it tomorrow to make it look more genuine.” He hesitated, then looked over at S’kal. “I’d like to speak to the Commander alone.”

His brother nodded and rose.

“I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

S’kal dropped a brief hand on his shoulder and left the room, closing the doors behind him. He turned to find Temel regarding him thoughtfully.

“You were the one who arranged to purchase the farms,” he blurted out.

“Yes. Life in the city did not seem to be working out well for most of us. A friend of mine did something similar with a ranch in the mountains.”

“Are you willing to let me keep my farm permanently?”

Temel raised a brow.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We have had our… differences in the past.”

Fewer than with any of his previous superiors because he genuinely respected Temel, but they had occurred.

Temel shook his head, his horns catching the light.

“My goal was to provide new homes for any warriors who needed it—not just for the ones who agreed with me.” He shrugged. “It can be helpful to have someone willing to question orders. To a certain extent.”

“I take it you mean I pushed that boundary?”

“Indeed.” The commander’s stern face softened a little. “I am glad you have found someone to keep you grounded. Although I still believe very much in this project, I think in the end, it is our mates who truly help us heal.”

“I think so too.”

“Good. Then shall we join our mates?”

Temel smiled at him and rose, and he smiled back, grateful that his past anger and recklessness were not going to ruin his current happiness. And he intended to make damn sure that didn’t change going forward.

CHAPTER 19

Kara smiled happily as they headed back to the farm, as pleased to be going home as she had been to arrive. They had stayed to have lunch and were joined by several other warriors and their mates. One of them was a red-skinned male with horns and a tail who clearly had a prickly relationship with H’zim.

“Why don’t you get along with Borgaz?” she asked curiously.

“It’s complicated. I would—and did—trust him with my life in battle, but we tend to rub each other the wrong way everywhere else. It didn’t help that he is very loyal to Temel and I was… difficult.”

“You? Difficult?” she teased gently, pleased when he smiled. “I liked his wife Mary, so the two of you may just have to learn to get along.”

He groaned, but he didn’t raise any objections and she patted his knee approvingly.

They had also been joined by the golden-skinned alien whom she’d glimpsed once before. She did her best not to blush as she remembered what she had almost seen. The next time H’zim chased her through the woods, she’d have to make sure no one was watching—although it had been the last thing on her mind at the time. She’d been too busy enjoying herself. Perhaps after their current situation was resolved…

Her hand was still on his knee and she went from pats to teasingly little circles, loving the feel of those strong muscles quivering beneath her touch.

The third warrior was a reptilian male with golden scales and a tail. He had a cynical attitude and a slightly reserved expression, and she hadn’t been surprised to find out that he wasn’t part of the original squad. She was surprised to find that he had originally taken a contract job working for Marshall. The fact that everyone seemed willing to accept him helped further ease her fears about their own welcome.

It had been the kind of big chaotic family gathering she’d always wanted to be part of and she’d been shocked to realize that she actually missed the peace of their small house. She was quite sure that H’zim did as well, agreeing immediately when she quietly suggested it was time to go.

“I enjoyed lunch, but I’m glad we’re alone again,” she whispered, her fingers moving lightly up his inner thigh.

He put his hand firmly over hers, but he didn’t move it away.

“So am I, but I’d prefer to make it home in one piece. You’re distracting me.”

“Good.”

He laughed as they turned off on the road leading to their farm. She was telling him some of her plans for the fall harvest when he suddenly tensed.

“What is it?”

“We have company,” he said grimly.

Two men were waiting in front of their house, hard-faced cynical men. One of them leered at her in a way that made her skin crawl, but the other one was focused on H’zim. H’zim scowled at both of them.

“I said I would meet you tomorrow.”

“And we told you to keep your mouth shut. Why did you go up to the big house?”

“His brother’s wife is pregnant,” she said quickly. “We were having lunch to celebrate.”

The leader frowned at her while the other male sneered and spat on the ground.

“Fucking aliens taking our women.”

She stared at him, her stomach churning. His thoughts were written on his face. If he had his way, she’d be raped and probably killed and left to rot. The other one’s face was more unreadable, but his hand rested casually on a blaster.

“I’ll get you what you want,” H’zim growled. “Tomorrow.”

“I think you might need a little… incentive,” the leader said smoothly, the threat implicit in his words. “She comes with us.”

She gave a choked sob as H’zim snarled.

“You’re never going to lay a finger on her.”

Both of the men had their guns out now, pointed directly at the two of them. Her heart was thudding so hard that she felt sick. She was sure that H’zim was a match for either of them alone, but both?

“Get down.”

His whisper was barely audible as he shoved her down in front of him. She landed awkwardly behind the metal panel in front of the seat as he leaped out of the wagon. Terror streaked through her at the sound of gunshots, along with a muffled cry.

Oh, God. H’zim!

She peered around the edge of the wagon to see H’zim staggering, blood pouring from a wound in his upper arm, as he kicked a blaster to one side. The second man was lying on the ground, his head bent at an unnatural angle. The first man snarled and lunged towards H’zim, knife raised. H’zim grabbed his knife arm and the two of them grappled for control. She jumped to the ground, then darted out and snatched up the fallen blaster, waiting desperately for an opening.

They parted enough for her to fire, aiming for the man’s leg, but missing. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and when H’zim yanked the man back she fired again. This time she didn’t miss, catching the man in the stomach. Her stomach churned as blood gushed from the wound, but H’zim took advantage of the man’s shock, twisting his neck until a sharp crack echoed across the yard and the man’s body slid to the ground.

She dropped the weapon and ran to him, worried about the pallor of his face and the bloodstain spreading down his arm.

“Let’s get you inside,” she said urgently. “I have to stop that bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but he didn’t protest as she took him in the house and helped him off with his shirt, revealing the ugly red gash.

“It looks like the bullet just grazed you. I’m more concerned about the blood loss.”

She kept her tone brisk, but her hands were shaking as she searched for the medical supplies he’d brought from town. She almost dropped the bottle of antiseptic when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m all right, Kara,” he said softly. “You saved me.”

“No, you saved me,” she said fiercely, and then burst into tears.

He pulled her close and held her until the tears passed, murmuring soft, comforting words into her hair. Finally she drew in a shuddering breath and wiped away the tears.

“I think I better clean and dress your wounds before I lose my nerve,” she said.

He smiled at her, even though his face was tight with pain.

“I’m fine, love.”

She eyed the hole in his arm.

“Really?”

Urging him into a chair, she grabbed the medical supplies again.

“I’ll survive. Now tell me how you learned to shoot so well.”

“One of my foster homes was pretty isolated and my foster dad used to hunt. That’s where I learned to fish too, and set a snare.”

“What happened?”

He hissed out a breath as she wiped antiseptic over the wound.

“My foster parents already had three boys, but my foster mom wanted a girl as well. It was great at first. Different, but I liked being outside so much.”

“What happened?” he asked gently as she began to bandage the wound.

“I started to grow up. One day I had three older brothers. The next day I had three boys fighting over me. I had to leave.” The memory still ached a little, but she hadn’t tried to argue. She didn’t want to come between the three brothers. “I’m not sure which is worse. Being moved around as a kid when you don’t understand why, or being moved as a teenager when you know why but you can’t do anything about it.”

He waited until she finished tying off the bandage, then pulled her onto his lap.

“Your arm—”

“Is just fine. And I heal very quickly.” He nuzzled affectionately at her throat and her traitorous body reacted, even though she knew he was injured. He smiled and brushed his thumb across a stiff nipple. “You don’t have to move any more, love. You have a home.”

More tears threatened but she forced them back and managed a smile.

“I know. Now let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait to have your wicked way with me. Can you get the com unit out of my pocket?”

Despite his injury, his cock responded when she fumbled in his pocket, making it even harder to retrieve the small device.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to wait too,” he sighed before he opened a channel. “S’kal, I need some help getting rid of a couple of bodies.” He shook his head at the response. “No it’s not like old times.”

“H’zim was shot in the arm,” she said quickly into the com before he could end the call and heard an outraged exclamation from the other end.

He frowned at her as he moved the device out of reach.

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.” He listened for a moment, then sighed again. “Fine.”

“You shouldn’t have said anything,” he said as soon as he ended the call. “Now he’s going to fuss over me.”

“Don’t you think he would have noticed when he got here?”

“Maybe not.”

She smiled at his disgruntled tone, then rose.

“I think I’m going to make some cookies. I want to try out Ida’s recipe, and I suspect that moving bodies makes you hungry. Will you at least lie down until S’kal gets here?”

He refused, but eventually compromised on the big chair in the living room, and when she checked on him a little later he was asleep. She smiled at his peaceful face, and then she went to make cookies.

CHAPTER 20

“You owe me for this,” Kalpar grumbled as he threw the last shovelful of dirt over the grave.

He’d arrived with S’kal and the three of them had dragged the bodies into the woods and buried them—although the other two had done most of the work. As he’d predicted, S’kal fussed over his wounded arm, but it was already feeling much better.

“I do,” he said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be sure to call on you next time I need bodies buried.”

They all laughed, then Kalpar headed back through the woods, anxious to return to his mate. Constance was struggling with both the knowledge of what her father had planned and the fate he had in store for him, and Kalpar didn’t like leaving her alone for long.

He and S’kal followed more slowly through the darkening woods.

“I’d forgotten what this was like,” he said softly. “Being part of a team. Having people you can rely on.”

“We were always there for you.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.” He came to a halt and turned to face his brother. “But you were. You were always there for me. Thank you for not giving up on me. For continuing to visit me even when I was so locked in my own head I couldn’t talk.”

“Of course I came. You’re my brother. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

S’kal grinned at him affectionately and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go home, H’zim.”

Home. He smiled as he thought of Kara waiting for him in their house—a house that had become a home.

He paused as they emerged from the woods, looking across the fields to the farmhouse, the windows glowing warmly in the dusk. He’d realized today that the past would always be with him. He couldn’t turn his back on those years of bitterness and resentment, not entirely. But with her help he could learn to live with them.

“It’s a beautiful night,” S’kal said as they started across the fields.

The sky was clear and filled with stars, and the twin moons cast a silvery glow over the world.

“It is,” he said absently, and then a thought occurred to him. “If anything happens to me, will you take care of Kara for me?”

“Of course, you idiot. But nothing is going to happen to you.”

He ignored the obvious false reassurance. He wasn’t going to throw himself into danger, but he also knew that life could be unpredictable. He’d been lucky tonight. His wound might easily have been fatal and then she would have been left alone again. He trusted S’kal to make sure she still felt like part of a family.

They said goodbye outside the barn, and his brother rode off into the night while he returned to the farmhouse. Kara had fallen asleep in the big chair he’d occupied earlier, so beautiful in the lamplight that his chest ached. He thought again about the fact that he could have lost her and suddenly he needed her desperately.

He bent down and picked her up. His arm ached, but as long as he kept most of her weight on his uninjured arm he was fine.

Her eyes fluttered open as he placed her on the bed and she looked around in confusion.

“How did I get here? You didn’t carry me, did you?”

He shrugged and pulled off his shirt. As he’d hoped, the sight distracted her and she licked her lips before giving him an admonishing look.

“You shouldn’t have done that. What you need—”

“What I need is you, my love.”

He toed off his boots and shoved down his pants, his cock springing free between them. Her eyes went heavy with pleasure as she reached for him, but he made her wait while he helped her undress, kissing and caressing each inch of exposed skin.

As soon as he removed her blouse, he cupped her breasts, tracing his thumbs over the dark pink tips and listening to her whimper of need.

“H’zim, please,” she whispered, and he obeyed the urgent tug on his shoulders, closing his mouth over a tempting peak and sucking eagerly.

She clutched his head, crying out as he worked the hardened tip until she was writhing beneath him. His need increased at the sound, driving him on as he dipped his hand between her legs, seeking her hot little cunt. He groaned as his fingers slipped along the warm, wet folds, already swollen and ready. His little mate was as eager as he was.

He eased one finger inside her as he switched to her other breast, lavishing the same attention on it. His finger stroked her, feeling the needy little spasms against his touch. She was so close, but he didn’t want her to come yet.

Slowly he began to kiss his way down her body, ignoring her impatient hands as they tangled in his hair, and her whispered pleas. When he finally reached his destination, he looked up at her.

“Open your eyes, Kara. Look at me.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked down at him, her eyes unfocused for a moment before her gaze fixed on his. He held her eyes as he pressed another finger inside her and then leaned in, using his tongue to tease the swollen little bud of her clit. She gasped, but she kept her eyes on him as he drove her higher and higher, her hips jerking as he sucked and lapped.

The wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into her heated depths mixed with the sweetly erotic cries that he was dragging from her lips. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, but he kept going, watching as her release swept over her, her eyes still locked with his. She came with a wordless cry, her hips bucking wildly until she finally slumped back on the mattress, gasping for air.

He lifted his head, licking the sweetness from his lips, then prowled back up her body to kiss her. She sighed happily into his mouth as he kissed her, reaching up to curl her arms around his neck.

He thrust his aching cock along her slick folds, and she gave him a teasing look.

“I’m kind of tired,” she said, but she reached between them to run a teasing hand over his length and he growled.

He rolled over and pulled her on top of him. Her eyes widened as she realized what he intended and she wiggled a little as she settled over him, her hot, slick core pressed against his cock. He gave an involuntary groan, and she smiled down at him.

“Maybe I’m not that tired after all,” she purred.

She took his hands and put them on her hips as she began to rock against him. Her cheeks were flushed and her nipples were a dusky pink, and she looked so beautiful, so confident his heart ached as she leaned down and kissed him.

His body reacted immediately to the brush of her sweet little mouth and his cock pulsed, eager for the heat of her sheath. But she seemed content to continue playing, rocking against his cock until they were both desperate.

“Kara,” he growled in warning.

She smiled a little impishly but positioned herself over him and slowly began to lower her body. He’d meant to give her time to adjust to the size of him, but he couldn’t resist the delicious little cunt that was gripping him so tightly. He gave an instinctive upwards thrust and she moaned.

“Yes!”

He repeated the movement and she whimpered and nodded, encouraging him until he was slamming into her.

“Ride me,” he demanded, and she complied immediately, bouncing on his cock as they raced towards their finish.

Her needy moans surrounded him, the sweet scent of her arousal filling the air, and his cock throbbed inside her. She started to shake, and then she cried out his name as she came, her tight little channel spasming around him as she collapsed down over his chest.

He caught her in his arms and rolled her over, plunging into her welcoming warmth again and again until his own climax washed over him, stealing his breath away as he emptied inside her.

When he could breathe again, he looked down to find her smiling up at him, her face even more radiant than it had been a moment before.

“I love you, Kara.”

“I love you too,” she said.

And then she kissed him, and he knew that he had everything he could ever want right there in his arms.

CHAPTER 21

Once again they were driving towards the farmhouse, but Kara wasn’t bouncing this time and she gave H’zim a worried look.

“Do you think it’s bad news?”

“No, my love, I do not.”

A week had passed since their last visit, and Temel had finally received a message that Tomlin would be returning today. Although they didn’t know exactly when, they had decided they’d rather wait with the others.

There was no sign of a flyer as they approached the main house and she couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad about that. She also wasn’t sure why she had such a persistent sense of unease.

I’m just being foolish, she decided and snuggled a little closer to H’zim. He immediately put his arm around her. It was the arm he had injured but he didn’t even flinch. He had healed as quickly as he’d promised, although he reluctantly admitted that making love the same day he was shot might have been pushing it. But he’d assured her it was worth every ache the following day.

The main house was quieter than she expected. In addition to Ida and Temel only Kalpar and Constance were there, along with S’kal.

“Where’s Evie?” she asked.

“I asked her to stay home. I don’t want her to get upset.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Do you think there’s a reason to get upset?”

“No, but she has a soft heart. She likes Constance and Tomlin—especially since he took care of her while I was in the city with H’zim.”

She nodded, understanding but also relieved. They all went into the kitchen to wait, but tension filled the room.

“Enough of this,” Ida said, jumping to her feet. “I need a distraction. Let’s make some pies.”

She set S’kal and H’zim to work preparing fruit. Kara helped her make pastry while Constance made little decorative shapes. To her surprise Kalpar took over at the stove, making the first filling.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” she said.

“I enjoy it. And sometimes it’s the only way to have something cooked properly. Although Ida does quite well,” he added begrudgingly, but the other woman just shook her head and grinned at him.

The first batch of pies were in the oven when Temel came in. He’d been working in his office at the front of the house.

“He’s back.”

They all followed him back through the house and out onto the porch like a flock of sheep, watching as Tomlin climbed stiffly out of the flyer. He looked up at them and raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch.

“I see I have a welcoming committee.” It was his usual composed tone, and yet… it wasn’t.

Evie and S’kal exchanged a look, then S’kal went to meet him.

“Would you rather meet with Temel alone?”

“No. I only want to do this once.”

Tomlin followed S’kal up onto the porch and she suddenly realized he looked exhausted, no matter how much he tried to disguise it. She sat down on one of the small wicker couches that were scattered across the porch and tugged H’zim down next to her.

“Why don’t we all have a seat?”

Fortunately, they all followed her lead and after a tiny hesitation, Tomlin sat as well.

“Marshall is dead,” he said quietly. “I am sorry, Lady Constance.”

Constance nodded and gave him a shaky smile, and Kalpar put his arm around her.

“Thank you. I know you didn’t have a choice.”

Tomlin inclined his head, looking down at his hands.

“It is my understanding that the legal situation is complicated. It could be years before you receive your legacy.”

Constance’s mouth trembled.

“It doesn’t matter. I have everything I want right here.” She took Kalpar’s hand and rose. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to go home now.”

“Of course,” Ida said, jumping to her feet. “Come back through the kitchen and get one of these pies to take with you.”

Constance nodded and took a step towards the door, then turned back.

“Did… did he say anything before…?”

“No, my lady.”

She nodded again, and the three of them disappeared into the house.

“That is not exactly accurate,” Tomlin said after the door closed behind them. “He did have things to say, but he didn’t mention her.”

“He talked?” Temel asked.

“Yes.” A chill skated down her spine at the cold, implacable tone, and another flicker of expression crossed that usually impassive face. “He found out about the morchev here from Matthew Johnson.”

“The man who originally owned this place?” S’kal asked.

“Yes. Apparently he gambled away most of the money he received for this place and returned to Cresca. His luck was no better here and he owed a lot of money to one of Marshall’s gambling houses. He offered up a morchev ring as recompense and bragged about there being plenty more here. It was not enough to save him, but it was enough to catch Marshall’s attention.”

Temel frowned. “Do you think there is anyone else who is going to try again now that Marshall is dead?”

“No. He kept the project very secret. Only a few people knew and they were working on separate aspects. And even if they had the knowledge, few people have the same level of resources.”

“So we’re safe?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes. It’s all over.”

Then why didn’t he seem satisfied? S’kal was frowning at his friend and she suspected he was wondering the same thing.

“There are a few… loose ends to tie up,” Tomlin added. “I’m going to do that now.”

S’kal’s frown deepened.

“You’re leaving again? Don’t you want to rest first?”

“I can’t.” Another crack of emotion in that calm voice. “I have to leave immediately.”

“But you’ll be back, won’t you?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Temel was the first to recover from the shock.

“You will be missed, but you will always have a place here,” he said quietly, dropping a hand on Tomlin’s shoulder before he went inside.

Tomlin gave a slight but perceptible shudder.

“What the fuck is going on?” S’kal demanded. “You can’t just walk out on me—on us. You’re going to be the godfather to our child.”

A faint smile crossed Tomlin’s face.

“I do not want to miss that honor. I will return if I can.”

“If? You sound like you’re going to die.” S’kal’s impatience disappeared as he gave Tomlin a horrified look. “That isn’t it, is it? You aren’t dying?”

“N-no.”

Tomlin was a little too slow to respond, and S’kal looked even more upset.

“If that’s what’s happening, you should be here with your friends and your family.”

“I am very grateful for both, but this is something I must do on my own.” A tiny smile flickered across his face. “Or perhaps not entirely. But I promise I will return if I can.”

Tomlin rose to his feet, his movements even stiffer this time, and dipped his head.

“Goodbye, my… friends.”

S’kal extended his hand but Tomlin actually flinched away from it. As he did, his sleeve slid a small way up his arm and Kara caught a flash of blue.

“I am truly sorry, Lord S’kal, but I cannot,” Tomlin said, then walked away.

“Godsdammit,” S’kal swore as they watched the flyer take off once more. “Stubborn, impossible male.”

“Who has brought us peace at last,” H’zim said as he joined him at the railing. “I hope he can find the same.”

His brother sighed.

“So do I. I suppose I’d better go and tell Evie. She isn’t going to like it.”

“Do you want us to come?” she offered, but he shook his head and grinned.

“Nah. I know how to calm her down.”

She laughed and went over to H’zim as S’kal left.

“Do you really think we’re at peace?”

“Yes, love. Now let’s go home. I want to find the best way to calm you down.”

His dark eyes glittered and she laughed.

“But I’m not upset.”

“It’s always best to be prepared, don’t you think?”

She went up on her tiptoes and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

“I certainly do.”

EPILOGUE

Four months later…

H’ZIM SLIPPED OUT of the house, closing the door on the sound of the festivities, and took a deep breath of the frosty air. He knew Kara had seen him go, but she’d only smiled and turned back to Evie. The main farmhouse had been prepared for Christmas, the human winter holiday, and his brother’s mate was as excited as if she’d never celebrated a holiday before, dancing around and exclaiming over the food and the decorations and the presents while his brother watched fondly.

But as much as he appreciated feeling like a fully accepted member of his squad, the chaos was a little overwhelming sometimes. Right now he preferred being out here in the quiet, especially knowing that he would be welcome when he chose to return. Despite that, he was not altogether surprised when S’kal came out to join him a short while later.

“Checking up on me?” he asked dryly. “Or looking for some quiet?”

“Can’t it be both?”

He laughed.

“I suppose so. Everyone looks happy, don’t they?”

“They do. Even Borgaz has a smile on that ugly face of his.”

They both laughed again.

“And you? Are you happy, brother?”

“I am. The farm is prospering. I have a wonderful mate.”

“And the nightmares?”

He shrugged.

“Only once in a while. And Kara is always there to bring me out of them.”

He watched his mate through the window again. She was holding Naffon and Dora’s little girl, looking more beautiful than ever, and he was struck by a pang of longing so intense that it stole his breath away. They had discussed having a child and decided that they should wait until the farm was more established. It was a rational decision, but right now he didn’t want rational. Perhaps he should mention it to Kara again…

“I am truly glad,” S’kal said seriously. “We were all damaged in that damn war.”

“And yet we have all managed to find peace. Eventually.”

The door opened again and Kalpar stomped out.

“Naffon is annoying me,” he announced.

S’kal shook his head.

“If you didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t bother.”

Kalpar’s eyes narrowed.

“Really?”

“No,” they all said in unison.

The other warrior shook his head, then looked out over the fields.

“What are you planning to plant on your land next year? Maybe we could try something together. Work out a partnership. I enjoy working with the cattle, but it’s nice to have other options.”

He’d considered the idea as well.

“I would like that very much.”

“I think you should try grapes,” S’kal volunteered. “I’d like to expand into winemaking.”

“I like the idea, but I need to do some research first.”

“All right. Let’s meet in the new year.”

The one thing he did know about wine is that the vines could take years before producing a decent vintage. The thought made him smile. He’d refused to think about the future for so long and now he was contemplating plans that could take years to come to fruition.

The door opened again and Celenk came out to join them, breathing a sigh of relief.

“It’s much more peaceful out here.”

Kalpar scowled at him. “Well, it was.”

He shook his head, but he was used to their byplay. The two of them loved to argue.

Celenk started to respond but was interrupted by an annoyed chittering as Raja, the small kedji who had been riding in his shirt pocket, poked his nose out and encountered the cold air. Celenk laughed and tucked Raja into his hand.

“He does not approve of the cold.”

“I don’t blame him,” Kalpar agreed.

All of them were looking in through the kitchen windows now and he suspected they were all watching their mates. Celenk followed Lottie’s movements for a moment, then turned to them and smiled.

“Lottie is pregnant,” he announced, beaming proudly.

He joined in the congratulations, but the longing he’d felt earlier had only intensified. The sooner they talked about it, the better.

The kitchen door suddenly flew open and Evie came racing out.

“S’kal!”

His brother immediately went to her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong, little one? Is it the baby?”

“No, of course not. Everything’s fine. But guess who just came waltzing in through the front door?”

“I have no idea. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Evie rolled her eyes at him and tried to tug him back into the house. She looked rather like a flyer trying to tug a freighter, but S’kal let her pull him away.

“I’m fine, but come with me. Tomlin’s back.”

S’kal came to an abrupt halt, and all the males on the porch froze.

“He’s back?” S’kal asked slowly.

“Yes, and he’s not alone! Come on.”

S’kal hurried into the house with Evie, and Kalpar immediately followed.

“This will be difficult for Constance,” he muttered as he went.

Celenk started to follow them, then looked over at H’zim.

“Are you coming?”

“In a minute.”

He wasn’t quite ready to return to the chaos inside, especially since the murmur of voices had gotten louder. Celenk nodded and opened the door just as Kara approached from the other side. She smiled at Celenk but continued out onto the porch, coming over to wrap her arms around his waist, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. It was just… a lot. Sometimes it still seems impossible to believe that I’m really here and not back in that cell.”

“You’re here,” she said fiercely, tightening her arms around him.

He had to admit that the warm, soft weight of her body against his was a convincing argument.

“Thank the gods.”

She nestled against him with a contented sigh, then looked up again.

“You know, I was thinking about Christmas presents.”

“What about them?” he asked warily. He’d gotten suggestions from Evie and Ida, but the whole experience of exchanging presents was new to him.

“I never told you what I really wanted,” she whispered.

Fuck. What was it? Was it too late to get it for her?

“It might be a little late,” he said quickly. “But tell me what you want.”

She laughed.

“Oh, I know it will be late. About nine months late.”

He froze.

“You mean…”

“Yes. I don’t want to wait any longer. The farm’s doing well enough and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

He growled and kissed her, his mouth hard and hungry. When he finally raised his head, she gave a breathless laugh.

“I guess you like the idea.”

He pulled her harder against the thick ridge of his erection.

“Yes. Now.”

“But don’t you have to get it reversed—”

“Now,” he growled.

He’d get it reversed tomorrow, but he wanted this moment. Her eyes lit up, but then she slipped under his arm.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

She darted away, down the porch steps and out into the snowy field. He chased after her, his heart racing with excitement and his cock throbbing with desire. As always she didn’t make it easy for him to catch her. He was faster but she was astonishingly nimble, slipping away even when he thought he had her captured. He caught her at last, trapping her against the wall of the barn.

She looked up at him, breathless from laughter, but then the laughter disappeared, replaced by need. She was still panting and her eyes were heavy as she reached for him.

“H’zim… please…”

He pinned her against the barn and covered her mouth with his, devouring her as his hands ran possessively over her body. The thick layers of clothing frustrated him, and he tugged impatiently at them until her coat gaped open and he could slide his hands up under her shirt. The warmth of her skin was like a furnace and she moaned and arched against his hand as he found a plump nipple.

“I need you,” he growled. “Right here. Right now.”

She gasped and nodded.

He pushed her skirt up and ripped impatiently at her knitted tights. As soon as he reached her wet, swollen heat, he freed his erection, pulling her down over his cock in one swift motion. Fuck, she was tight. He usually took more time, allowing her to adjust to his size, but tonight he couldn’t. He was caught in a frenzy of pure, hot need. He kissed her again, his mouth hard and demanding as he thrust up into her, moving faster and harder as her body softened.

She urged him on with soft, wordless cries as heat engulfed them both and his cock grew even harder. She whimpered and he could feel her muscles squeezing him, driving him towards his own completion. He held off, waiting until he felt her quiver, until he felt the exquisite grip of her pleasure, and then he tumbled after her, his roar echoing across the fields as he emptied himself into her sweet body.

She slumped down over him, her head falling on his shoulder as she panted for breath. He cradled her gently in his arms as he recovered his own breath, his heart racing as it always did when he was with her.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely.

She raised her head and smiled up at him.

“I love you too.” She wiggled a little on his cock, then gave a soft gasp as she realized that he was still hard. “You really enjoyed chasing me, don’t you?”

He grinned.

“I do. But I love catching you even more. And I love filling you with my seed most of all.”

They both felt his cock jerk as the words, but he took a step back and lifted her off of him. Her skirts fell over the tattered remains of her tights and he was tempted to tear her clothes off, but instead he picked her up and carried her into the barn.

“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“I’m not finished and it’s warmer in here.”

“You know this is only practice,” she teased.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps the gods will smile on us.”

They did. Their daughter was born exactly nine months later.

TOMLIN’S CONTROL has finally been shattered! Find out what has happened to him in How the Aliens Were Won: Tomlin!

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Thank you so much for reading H’zim! I’ve been dying to tell his story since he first growled his way onto the page - and of course, Kara was there all along! It’s always a little bittersweet to come to the end of a series - although in this case, it’s not quite the end even though the issues facing the farm have been resolved! Tomlin is another character who came to life on the page and demanded that his story be told!

Whether you enjoyed the story or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon – reviews are one of the best ways to help other readers find my books!

As usual, I have to thank my readers for coming on these adventures with me - I couldn’t do it without you!

And, as always, a special thanks to my beta team – Janet S, Nancy V, and Kitty S. Your thoughts and comments are incredibly helpful!

Next up! Tomlin

Discipline. Restraint. Control.

Tomlin has been hiding his true nature his entire life, but cracks are beginning to show in his perfect facade. When he meets the beautiful, intelligent female who could destroy all his barriers he knows he should run, but he needs her help.

He needs her.

Click here to order Tomlin!

But first! A new adventure in the Treasured by the Alien series - A Miracle for the Alien Warrior!

Lauren’s decision to have a child on her own takes a terrifying turn when she’s abducted by aliens. Her attempt to escape leaves her trapped and about to give birth.

Krestar flees Cire in an attempt to find peace. Instead he finds a beautiful female from an unknown species, alone, pregnant, and desperate.

Has he finally found the family he’s always wanted, or will the challenges they face tear them apart?

A Miracle for the Alien Warrior is available on Amazon!

If you’d like to read about more about how the warriors ended up on the farm to begin with, check out You Got Alien Trouble! - Rosie and Harkan’s story!

You Got Alien Trouble! is available on Amazon!

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The audio version of You Got Alien Trouble! is also available for FREE on my direct store -

honeyphillips.myshopify.com!

OTHER TITLES

HOMESTEAD WORLDS

Seven Brides for Seven Alien Brothers

Artek

Benjar

Callum

Drakkar

Endark

Frantor

Gilmat

You Got Alien Trouble!

How the Aliens Were Won

Borgaz

Temel

Naffon

S’kal

Celenk

Kalpar

H’zim

Tomlin

Cosmic Fairy Tales

Jackie and the Giant

Blind Date with an Alien

Her Alien Farmhand

Cyborgs on Mars

High Plains Cyborg

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

A Fistful of Cyborg

A Few Cyborgs More

The Magnificent Cyborg

The Outlaw Cyborg

The Cyborg with No Name

Cyborg Rider

KAISARIAN EMPIRE

The Alien Abduction Series

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

Deb and the Demon

Ella and the Emperor

Faith and the Fighter

Greta and the Gargoyle

Hanna and the Hitman

Izzie and the Icebeast

Joan and the Juggernaut

Kate and the Kraken

Lily and the Lion

Mary and the Minotaur

Nancy and the Naga

Olivia and the Orc

Pandora and the Prisoner

Quinn and the Queller

Rita and the Raider

Sara and the Spymaster

Tammy and the Traitor

Unity and the Usurper

Folsom Planet Blues

Alien Most Wanted: Caged Beast

Alien Most Wanted: Prison Mate

Alien Most Wanted: Mastermind

Alien Most Wanted: Unchained

Stranded with an Alien

Sinta - A SciFi Holiday Tail

Cosmic Cinema

My Fair Alien

The Alien and I

Skruj

Horned Holidays

Krampus and the Crone

A Gift for Nicholas

A Kiss of Frost

Treasured by the Alien

Mama and the Alien Warrior

A Son for the Alien Warrior

Daughter of the Alien Warrior

A Family for the Alien Warrior

The Nanny and the Alien Warrior

A Home for the Alien Warrior

A Gift for the Alien Warrior

A Treasure for the Alien Warrior

Three Babies and the Alien Warrior

Sanctuary for the Alien Warrior

A Miracle for the Alien Warrior

Exposed to the Elements

The Naked Alien

The Bare Essentials

A Nude Attitude

The Buff Beast

The Strip Down

The Alien Invasion Series

Alien Selection

Alien Conquest

Alien Prisoner

Alien Breeder

Alien Alliance

Alien Hope

Alien Castaway

Alien Chief

Alien Ruler

COZY MONSTERS

Fairhaven Falls

Cupcakes for My Orc Enemy

Trouble for My Troll

Fireworks for My Dragon Boss

The Single Mom and the Orc

Mistletoe for My Minotaur

Valentine for My Vampire

Protected by the Orc

Gift for My Ghost

Monster Between the Sheets

Extra Virgin Gargoyle

Without a Stitch

Standalones

Hot Wolf in the City

Mated to the Swamp Monster

FANTASY

The Five Kingdoms

The Orc’s Hidden Bride

The Orc’s Stolen Bride

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Honey Phillips writes steamy science fiction stories about hot alien warriors and the human women they can’t resist. From abductions to invasions, the ride might be rough, but the end always satisfies.

Honey wrote and illustrated her first book at the tender age of five. Her writing has improved since then. Her drawing skills, unfortunately, have not. She loves writing, reading, traveling, cooking, and drinking champagne - not necessarily in that order.

Honey loves to hear from her wonderful readers! You can stalk her at any of the following locations…

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