by Anna Argent
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No. The skin is tight, but there’s no pain.”
Her response was one of pleasure then? He couldn’t bring himself to ask her. “Are you hungry?”
The change of topic seemed to jar her. She blinked rapidly and turned toward him as if that might help her decipher his words. “What?”
“I’m starving. The truck’s windshield won’t be fixed until businesses open in the morning, but I could order a pizza.”
“Pizza?”
He nodded. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I doubt you want to take a ride in the cold with no windshield when you’re only half dressed.”
He was acutely aware that the only thing covering her under his drooping flannel shirt was a pair of boxers that were loose enough to come off with only the slightest tug.
Maybe that’s what he should do. They were already on the bed where his weight wouldn’t hurt her when he climbed on top. He could ease her back, slide those clothes off, part her thighs and take her, slow and easy. Her mind would follow where her body led, and he knew without a doubt that he could convince that sweet body to trust him enough to let him in. He’d take his time. Make her want it as much as he did.
Oh yeah. Best plan ever.
Radek wouldn’t be back for hours. Talan would have plenty of time to make her feel good, bind her to him, lay the groundwork for trust that would reach beyond sex once they were out of bed.
She would let him fuck her. He’d almost done so against the bathroom wall. A little shift or rip of fabric and they’d both have been bare, her thighs open, her hot sex stretching to take all of him.
He’d barely stopped before. If he hadn’t, he’d be inside her right now, stroking deep, making her come for him, filling her with his own release…
And then he remembered. This was the second time he’d nearly made the same mistake and forgotten reality.
He didn’t dare trust human birth control to work on her, even if she was taking any. And he didn’t carry condoms because he never bedded human women. When he’d come here to do his job, he’d simply turned his cock off. Until now. It was definitely wide awake now.
Contraception was his responsibility—one he was not going to forget or fail.
He’d already swallowed the dose of meds while she’d showered, but it wouldn’t render him infertile for a few more hours. Until then, his penis would stay in his pants. Maybe even longer.
It took the space of three deep breaths before he was once again able to speak. “Tell me about the riddle.”
“I’m not sure I should.”
So skeptical. Her father had done a good job training her not to trust strangers, and as inconvenient as it was, Talan was grateful for the lessons. They’d kept her safe long enough for him to find her.
He put some distance between them, but didn’t stop touching her. His fingers stroked over her palm, hoping to soothe away some of the tension vibrating through her. “Maybe I can help.”
“I don’t know if it’s going to make any more sense to you than it does to me.”
“You won’t know until you try.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for months. I’ve torn the house apart—and the shop. The riddle doesn’t make any more sense to me now than it did the day my father died.”
“Then what do you have to lose by sharing it with me?” He slipped his hand beneath her damp hair and cupped the back of her neck. It was a sensitive area. A vital area. He could inflict untold damage with so little pressure here. Paralyze her. Kill her, even.
Instinctively, she had to know that. Animals—humans and Loriahans included—knew to protect their vulnerable areas, and Zoe’s slender neck was definitely vulnerable.
He exerted the faintest pressure against the tight muscles lining her spine, rubbing little circles along her skin. She was stiff at first, but after a few moments, she gave into his touch and bent her head forward slightly, exposing the area to his touch. The move was barely perceptible, but he’d been waiting for it—watching for it—and she hadn’t failed to please him.
Talan grinned inwardly, knowing that his efforts to tame away her skepticism were working. Whether she realized it intellectually or not, she was putting herself in his care, giving over just a little sliver of control and trust. It was a small step, but an important one.
He rewarded her with a little more pressure mixed with a gliding stroke along her nape. Each move showed him more of what she liked, and he followed her lead, giving her as much pleasure as he could with such a simple touch.
“Tell me,” he coaxed.
She groaned, and her shoulders relaxed downward. Her head tilted, making her hair slide out of his way.
“Tell me, Zoe.”
She let out a little sigh, but he couldn’t tell if it was one of pleasure or defeat. “The key is in balance.”
“What?”
“That’s what he told me. The key is in balance.”
She was right. It didn’t make any sense. “Are you sure you heard him right?”
“Positive. He made me repeat it back to him several times.”
“What do you think it means?”
She shrugged, and he could feel the movement travel through the muscles under his fingers. “When I was a kid, he used to make me hunt for my birthday presents. He’d give me a clue, then send me off to search for what it meant. The game was always the same. The initial clue would lead me to another, which led to another, until I found the prize.”
“And this time?”
She shook her head and her soft hair swayed over the back of his hand. “I can’t even find a place to start. I’ve looked. Believe me. I’ve torn apart every scale in the house and the shop. I’ve searched through every book that might even vaguely have something to do with balance. I even scoured his yoga videos thinking there might be something there.”
“And you found nothing,” he guessed.
“Right. Big, fat nothing.”
While she’d spoken, tension had coiled in her neck and shoulders. Talan did what he could to rub it away, but she was strung so tightly he worried he’d hurt her.
“Tell me about your father. Maybe something about him will make the riddle clear.”
“Like what?”
“What did he do? What did he enjoy? What were his quirks?”
She frowned in thought for a second, then a faint smile hovered at the corners of her lush mouth. “He had trouble adjusting to the culture here at first. I remember when I was little that someone asked him what our last name was. He either didn’t understand the question or he didn’t get the concept, because from then on, I was Zoe Last.”
“So he was a literal man. That’s important to know. It might help with the riddle.”
Her face brightened. “Maybe.”
“What else can you tell me?”
“He felt stressed out a lot. That’s why he loved his yoga.”
“That’s all about balance. And it’s made up of poses, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe one of those poses has meaning.”
“You mean like the key will be hidden under a downward-facing dog?” she asked, her brows cocked with skepticism.
“I don’t suppose you have any of those corny garden statues of a dog with his ass in the air, do you?”
“No. And neither should anyone else. But I see what you mean.” She looked around the room. “Where is my purse?”
Talan wasn’t sure. “In the truck maybe. Why?”
“My phone’s in it. Can you search yours for names of poses?”
He did as she asked, and handed her his phone so she could scroll through them.
Within seconds, he felt her focus shift away from him. It was amazing to watch her work. He swore he could see thoughts flicker across her features as she ran through possible options. As engrossed as she was, he could stare openly, without fear of being caught.
Her dark eyes reflected the blue light of the screen and glittere
d with intelligence. Her slender finger slid across the device, moving with unerring precision.
He remembered all too well how her hands had felt gliding over his chest, how her eyes had darkened as she’d stared at his body. Being the focus of all her attention had been nearly too intense, like staring into the sun. And yet there was nothing he wanted more than to have her look at him like that again.
She didn’t know that Builders weren’t supposed to want warriors. If she had, she never would have kissed him like she had.
She’d go back to Loriah and meet another Builder who shared her intelligence and interests. They’d work together, live together. Eventually, they’d have children together. Smart Builder children who could further their work, carrying it from one generation to the next.
Talan would be forgotten. A lapse in judgment she’d made before she knew better.
He wanted to pretend the idea didn’t bother him. He’d been nothing but a mistake to a lot of women over the years, and it had never bothered him before. Permanence wasn’t his goal. He didn’t want to bring children into a world torn apart by war. He didn’t want to love anyone—not when so many were being killed by the Raide every day. Like everyone else, he’d already lost enough. Too much.
So why did it bother him to think about Zoe settling down with some scrawny Builder who would suit her?
He was too possessive of her, despite his having no right to be. He’d found other Imonite women here and kept them safe until he could send them home. He’d never before felt this same pull of attraction. He’d done his job, never forgetting that his connection to these people was temporary. Fleeting.
Even when the empress had been found here—even when she had healed him, bringing him back from the brink of death—he’d known that she wasn’t his. He’d cared for her. He’d seen how beautiful she was both inside and out, but he’d never felt like she… belonged to him.
Zoe was different. In the short time he’d known her, she’d woven herself around him. He didn’t want her out of arm’s reach.
He tried to tell himself that it was simply his duty to protect her that made him want to cling, but there was more to it than that. He didn’t have to touch her to know she was safe. And he sure as hell didn’t need to lay her down and claim her body as his own personal territory.
Even now he was touching her, stroking her back. He hadn’t realized he’d been petting her. He shouldn’t have been touching her at all, and yet he couldn’t keep his hands off.
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, but he couldn’t think of a single reason strong enough to make himself stop. Every stroke of his hand loosened Zoe’s tension a tiny bit, easing away the subtle strain vibrating along her skin. As she relaxed, so did he.
She looked up at him, disappointment clear in her eyes. “This isn’t it.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. All he could think about was how he wanted to massage away the pucker between her brows, or maybe kiss her until she forgot all about whatever was bothering her. “What isn’t it?”
“None of these yoga poses strike any chords. But maybe you’re right about the looser connection.”
The riddle. Right.
Talan dragged his concentration back to the matter at hand. “Tell me more about your father. Maybe it will help.”
A flicker of sadness tightened her mouth. Talan reached to smooth it away, but stopped himself before he could. If he touched her lips, he’d want to kiss them. And if he did that, he didn’t trust that he’d stop before he’d gone too far.
Instead, he clasped his hands together and scooted back until she was out of reach.
“He could fix anything,” she said. “It didn’t matter how badly broken or damaged it was. He used to say that he could repair anything that didn’t grow.” She leaned back against the headboard and crossed her legs.
Her bare knees stuck out, pale and smooth, tempting him to touch. They were just knees, but apparently Zoe’s knees still had the ability to make him break out in a sweat.
“What else?”
“He was an artist too. He loved mosaics, and would make entire landscapes out of bits of whatever he found lying around. My favorite one is on the wall of my bedroom he did when I was a little girl. It took him months to finish it.” She bowed her head, but not before he saw a sheen of tears fill her eyes.
To hell with keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to sit on his hands while she suffered simply because he couldn’t control his desire. For her, he’d find a way to control himself.
Talan took her hand in his. She didn’t resist, and a little thrill raced through him at the knowledge that she was growing used to his touch. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shrugged. Her hair hid her face. “I can’t take it with me.”
“What?”
“The mosaic. All the little pieces of him in the house. When I’m at home or at work, I can’t look anywhere that hasn’t been touched by him. If I leave this world…”
He understood now. She still grieved for her father and knew she would be leaving behind all the things that reminded her of him.
Talan knew grief. Every Loriahan did. It was a way of life for them, but it hadn’t been her way of life. If he left her here, she would eventually heal and move on with her life. But on Loriah… death was everywhere.
He pulled her against his chest. She came without a fight, clinging to him. The scent of motel shampoo filled his nose, and hovering just beneath that was something that was fundamentally her.
He felt her hot tears soak through his shirt, but said nothing. If she wanted to cry, he wouldn’t mock her for it. She wasn’t supposed to be hard and emotionally distant like the warriors he knew. She was born to create, and she couldn’t do that without feeling everything, even the bad things.
Talan’s own parents had been Builders like her—talented, brilliant and filled with irrational feelings that did them no good. He remembered how devastated they’d been when they learned he had no skill, when he’d been shipped off to train with the other warriors.
Big, clumsy hands. A lack of feeling and creativity. Intelligent, but not nearly intelligent enough to carry on his parents’ work. He hadn’t been born right. An aberration. A destroyer in the middle of a family of creators.
He’d disappointed everyone, but he would not disappoint Zoe. He’d find a way to bring something of her father’s through the window, even if he had to cut away an entire wall and haul it to Loriah piece by piece. He wouldn’t leave her alone to grieve without even the memory of the man who’d raised her. As soon as she was back among her own kind, she was going to need every advantage she could find. Comfort on Loriah was scarce in the midst of war.
Zoe sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m such a drag.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything else if it upsets you.”
He felt her head shift as she shook it. “No, it’s okay. We need to find the treasure, or data sphere, or whatever it is. If that means I need to suck it up and put on my big girl panties, then that’s what I’ll do.”
The mention of panties reminded him all too keenly that she wasn’t wearing any. He’d watched her lay hers out to dry over the vents of the heater.
It was sad how his mind went there first, imagining her soft mound bare under his boxers. He knew he’d never again be able to wear the garment without thinking about how her naked skin had been where his was.
As his erection swelled, he knew he’d never wear those boxers again, not without walking around hard and aching. Not exactly what a warrior wanted in a pair of underwear.
“Did your father do any other kind of art?” asked Talan, in an effort to distract himself.
“He dabbled in lots of things. Painting, sculpture. I suppose he could have hidden something in one of his clay pieces.”
“We’ll look there first, then.” He glossed past that, not wanting her to think about how they would have to smash them open to look inside. “What about t
ravel? Were there any places he used to go—maybe someplace you didn’t go with him? He could have a clue tucked away there.”
She shifted until her ear was flat against his chest. She didn’t seem to be anxious to put distance between them, and he was content to hold her for as long as she liked.
“We went to a few places—mostly museums—but he never went anywhere without me, like he was afraid something might happen to me when he was gone. I suppose he could have taken trips when I was in school, but he had the shop to run.”
“What about hidden rooms? A basement lab that he kept to himself?”
“Nothing like that that I know of.” She went still. She hadn’t moved, but her utter lack of movement told him something had occurred to her.
She sat up in a rush, her eyes bright with excitement. “I remember something. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I remember him telling me that some puzzles could not be solved until the time was right, that sometimes we had to be in the right place at the right time with the right person to understand them.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, at the time, I was crushing on this boy who didn’t notice I existed. I wanted to know what it was about me that made me invisible to him. I thought Dad’s response was his way of telling me that I needed to be older to understand. He was always saying things like that, and getting totally freaked out whenever I talked about boys.”
Talan was a little freaked out himself just hearing about it. If she’d created ties to this world—a husband, and possibly even children—she wouldn’t have wanted to go back. And he could see how her father would frown on her dating men from an alien race, no matter how similar they appeared to be, especially knowing she might one day be forced to leave.
“I still don’t get it,” he said. “How does that help with your riddle?”
“My dad taught me a lot about the world I was born on, but there were certain things he held back.”
“Like?”
“I know we left because of the war. I know my mother was killed by the invaders because she knew things they wanted to know. Those are big things. Scary things. Things a parent might hold back from a child.”