Bonnie remembered that he said he’d been the slave of other slaves, and apparently at least some of them had been female. If it was during that time that he’d developed his dislike of women, Bonnie thought it odd that he liked children any more than he liked their mothers. She reminded herself that it was hard not to like babies—they have the knack of bringing out the nurturing instincts in just about everyone.
“That was where you learned to deliver babies then?”
He nodded, his purring never ceasing.
“Well,” Bonnie said briskly, “you’re very good at it! You should think more about what Vladen said. We could use someone like you around here to help with other births.”
As soon as she’d said it, Bonnie wished she hadn’t, because Lynx looked positively stricken at the mere mention of the idea.
“Okay, then, maybe not,” she went on smoothly. “Look, you can rock Ulla anytime you like. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.” Which she seemed to be doing right then; utterly content and completely relaxed in his arms.
In his arms. Bonnie knew what that felt like, too, and began to envy her daughter.
Putting those painful thoughts firmly aside, she got to her feet, noting that the sun was beginning to set. “I’ll just go get dinner started,” she said hastily. “You can play with Ulla while I’m cooking.”
Lynx nodded and closed his eyes again, his face taking on an expression of serenity the likes of which Bonnie had never seen. No, he doesn’t want me to stay here with him. I am the farthest thing from his mind. He only wants to hold my child.
When Lynx had seen Bonnie lying there, fast asleep, his first impulse was to lie down beside her and take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t think anymore— until he couldn’t think anymore—and show her how sorry he was that they couldn’t be together. He wanted to look down into her deep blue eyes and see his own desire reflected there; watch her expression as he gave her everything he had to give. He thought back to the time when mating with a woman could truly take him away to a better place, one where nothing bad had ever happened to him or to his world. But he couldn’t do that, so he did the next best thing.
And with his eyes closed and Shaulla in his arms, Lynx could pretend again. Pretend that all the horrors of his past had never taken place, and that he was sitting in the shade while the sun set and his child slept. It was another of his dreams. His mind flowed outward, touching the sky, the clouds, the grass, and the trees. He was at peace with a baby in his arms. Even in his former life, it was one of the few times he’d ever been left alone, because no mother wanted to disturb him while he purred and rocked her crying child to sleep, and neither had Bonnie. He was safe for now.
Chapter 10
THE MORE TIME BONNIE SPENT WITH ULLA, THE MORE she began to understand why Sylor had left when he did. If he’d had second thoughts about starting a family, then leaving before Bonnie even looked pregnant had probably been his best move. It would be so much harder to leave after your child was born and you had gazed into her eyes.
The bond between mother and child was strong, and Bonnie could now understand why her own mother hadn’t wanted her to leave Earth to begin a new life on Terra Minor. Bonnie didn’t want Ulla out of her sight, let alone living on another planet.
The bond between father and child must have counted for something, too, because even though Lynx wasn’t her father, he went to a lot of trouble to see that Ulla was comfortable.
The first thing he did was build a cradle for her to nap in while they worked in the garden. The cradle was about waist-high with a roof over it to keep the sun out of her eyes—she wouldn’t have gotten wet if it rained, either. Then he began carving toys for her; highly polished wooden toys, with not a splinter or a rough spot on them anywhere. He was quick on his feet, too. She had only to whimper before he was right there to see what the trouble was, and he could change a diaper three times faster than Bonnie could. Plus, he could wrap her up in a neat little bundle, while Bonnie's efforts always seemed to leave a foot sticking out.
He began taking care of Bonnie, too. He would bring her water, telling her that she needed to drink more fluids, or tell her to rest when even Bonnie knew she had worked too long and was getting tired. Bonnie suspected it was just to help her produce more milk to nurture his little darling, but fortunately, he never put it that way.
Vladen came by when Ulla was about two weeks old and proclaimed that all was well with both mother and child. “Thought you might have some trouble with those forehead ridges during the delivery,” he remarked. “But it looks as though you did just fine.”
“Do you mean to tell me you were concerned about that?” Bonnie said ominously.
“Just a thought, my dear,” he said soothingly. “Nothing to worry about—as you can readily see! Won’t have any trouble at all with the next one!”
“There won’t be a next one,” she said.
“Oh?” he said, nonplussed. “I would have thought…” His voice trailed off suggestively, obviously referring to Lynx.
“No,” Bonnie said firmly. “There will be no more.”
“But, Cat and Leo can cross with—”
“What they can do has nothing to do with me and Lynx,” she said, cutting him off before he could finish. Things were bad enough as it was; hearing all the details of what she’d been missing would only make it worse.
“But Zetithians are—”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about them—from Jack or Tisana or anyone else,” Bonnie said evenly, “but this one is different. He likes the baby just fine, but he doesn’t like women at all.”
Vladen obviously didn’t believe her. “Perhaps his nose is congested,” he muttered, idly rubbing his jaw ridges. “I have treatments for that.”
“Trust me, his nose works just fine!” Bonnie said, rapidly becoming exasperated. “And don’t you dare say a word to him about it!”
“A bit sore on that subject, are we?” Vladen observed, his raised brow pushing his bristly blond hair even farther back on his high forehead.
Bonnie blew out a pent-up breath and glared at him. “For once, Doctor,” she said firmly, “it's none of your business.”
He chuckled knowingly. “Of course it isn’t. Don’t know what I’m talking about, either, do I?” Then his expression changed abruptly. “But perhaps it isn’t his nose that's the problem. Perhaps it's you.”
“Me?” she repeated in disbelief. “What's wrong with me?”
“Well, Sylor did you a very nasty turn by leaving you like that,” he said, casually picking up Ulla to set her on his knee. “Perhaps you’ve been taking it out on that Zetithian boy.”
“He isn’t a boy, Vladen!” Bonnie reminded him.
“Don’t change the subject, Bonnie!” Vladen scolded. “All men are not like Sylor! Remember that!”
“No, some of them are like you,” she said with a wry smile. “Irritating, overbearing—”
“And wonderfully wise,” he finished for her, switching on his scanner to check Ulla. “Perfect child,” he said. “Sometimes that Vessonian-Terran mix makes for a weak heart, but she's ticking along just fine.”
“Weak heart?” Bonnie exclaimed, feeling her own skip a few beats. “Weak heart? You’re telling me that now?”
“Well, I’ve checked her right along,” he reminded Bonnie, “and her heart was always normal, but until a child is born, you never really know, do you?”
She stood there gaping at him for a long moment before she was even able to speak. “No, I suppose you don’t,” she said. “But couldn’t you have at least warned me about all of this?”
“And had you worried sick the whole time?” he said with a smile. “Not worth the stress, my dear. I do my best to avoid putting unnecessary fears into the heads of pregnant women. Believe me, they find enough things to worry about on their own!” Vladen stood up, handing Ulla back to Bonnie. “Well, then,” he said briskly. “Must be off! Take good care of them.”
“Th
em?” she echoed.
“The baby and the Zetithian,” he replied. “Though I believe he requires even more care than the child.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said wistfully. “Lynx doesn’t seem to need much of anything. All I do is feed him.”
Vladen looked so smug, Bonnie considered it a wonder his jaw ridges didn’t pop right through his skin. “I doubt that,” he said. “He's one of the neediest men I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, he might be needy,” Bonnie grumbled, “but he sure doesn’t act like it! He never asks for anything, and most of what I’ve given him, he doesn’t seem to want.”
“Yes, well, some women are more needy than they’re willing to admit, too,” Vladen said mysteriously.
“Oh, I’m sure they are,” Bonnie agreed in an effort to shut him up. “And I’m sure you think I’m one of them. But I’m also sure you have other patients waiting for you, so I won’t keep you.”
“Any eggs available?” he asked on the way out. “And some of that white squash with the scalloped edges?”
“Sure,” she said wearily. “Got plenty of both. Help yourself to anything you like—on the house.”
“That would make it seem as though you were paying me for my services!” he said indignantly, clearly affronted by the suggestion. “Which you know very well I cannot do! I will pay for what I get from you!”
Bonnie chuckled in spite of herself. “I suppose the advice was free too?”
“Well, yes—yes, of course it was!” he sputtered.
Bonnie sighed, pulling some eggs out of the fridge. “I guess you get what you pay for.”
And in Bonnie's opinion, it was lousy advice, because it was obvious to her that Lynx didn’t need her or anything she could do for him. He didn’t need anything but his precious solitude and the chance to rock Shaulla—and something to eat once in a while.
She was beginning to not only need him again, but want him and crave him. When she looked at Lynx, all she could think about was kissing those lips, running her fingers through his curls, and holding his purring body close to her own. She was jealous of Shaulla, because she got to do those things. Not the way Bonnie would have, perhaps, but Bonnie had seen Ulla grasp his hair in her tiny fists, and he held her so closely. Bonnie would never get the chance unless she charged Lynx a hug or a kiss before she let him hold Ulla, and she wasn’t even sure she could get it then.
Lynx knew what she was feeling, too. Bonnie was feeding the enocks one morning while he gathered the eggs, and something in the way he moved triggered her emotions. Within moments, his head went up and his nostrils flared. There it was again, he thought; her desire. Lynx breathed in the scent and waited for a response from his body, but none came. His lips hardened into a thin line as he turned away from her.
Bonnie saw his reaction and wanted to run away and hide—which is essentially what she did. Throwing the remainder of the feed at the birds, she turned and left so quickly, she nearly tripped over Kipper on the way back to the house.
Bonnie knew there was nothing she could do to make herself more attractive to him, either; the usual feminine wiles were useless on a man who disliked women. And besides, she didn’t just want him to make love to her— she wanted him to love her.
Late one night, Bonnie was up feeding Ulla. Before she went back to bed, she went out to the kitchen for a drink, not bothering to turn on a light, for the moonlight lit her way quite well. If the moon hadn’t been shining so brightly, Bonnie doubted that she’d have looked out, but when she did, she saw him.
Lynx was standing by the well pump, completely nude, though Bonnie only saw him from the rear. If she’d been jealous of her daughter before, Bonnie was now jealous of the moon, for its light caressed the contours of his perfect body in the same way she would have liked to touch him with her fingertips. Her only consolation as she watched the droplets of water fall from his skin was that she could stand there and watch, secure in her home, and know that he couldn’t catch the scent of her desire wafting toward him with the evening breeze.
As Lynx leaned over to wash his hair, Bonnie was sure she would climax just from the sight of him. All of it was appealing to her on the most basic, elemental level and beyond. The line of his spine as it disappeared into his sculpted buttocks. The way his neck seemed to flow so perfectly into his broad shoulders. And his legs; tapered, muscular, and strong. Bonnie took that vision back to bed, dreaming of him; of the way he would feel, the way he would taste, the way he would touch her. She tried to remember how his body felt pressed tightly against her own while she had been in labor with Shaulla. It was the only memory she had, and she clung to it in desperation. Bonnie tried to imagine more, but kept coming back to what Jack had said about Cat. Did all Zetithians possess the same attributes? Could the fluids he secreted really induce orgasms? She’d never heard of a species that could do such things—and she’d heard quite a few tall tales! Sylor certainly had no remarkable abilities in that respect; making love with him had been no different than having sex with a human male. But Bonnie wasn’t asking Lynx for that. She only wanted him to hold her and purr the way he had before. She didn’t need orgasms to make her love him or want him. He was what made her want him, not some chemical reaction.
Then again, perhaps it was all chemical—or hormonal—and, given a couple of long, miserable years, it would all go away. Then she could look at his naked body in the moonlight and not care. In the meantime, charging him a hug or a kiss for holding Shaulla was sounding better all the time.
“Lynx,” Bonnie whispered to the darkness. “You’re a torment to me. Go away and leave me just like all the others have—and, please, do it soon, before I do something stupid.”
Lynx stood up tall and shook the excess water from his hair. Glancing down at his penis where it hung from its nest of curling hair, he remembered a time when even cold water couldn’t douse his need to mate. He hadn’t understood why Bonnie had shut him out after Ulla was born. Holding a woman again had felt so good to him, and even watching the child emerge hadn’t been quite as painful as it had been with the others, because he already knew there was no chance that this child could be his own. Still, he always held his breath at that moment when it might still be possible…
Beautiful mother and beautiful child. Lynx knew a moment of jealousy and hatred toward Bonnie's old boyfriend. Sylor should never have left her; a man who would abandon his own child was no better than a common criminal.
But if he had not left, I would not be here. Lynx pondered that for a while, thinking that it might have been easier. He might have gotten a job somewhere else—or been sent offworld—perhaps even back to Paemay. He didn’t want to go there—too many bad memories were associated with that planet—but he’d worked and saved to pay his passage before; he could do it again.
Still, this was a nice world to live on; the climate was favorable, the shed he lived in was spacious and quiet, and the work was hard, but simple. If only there had been no females nearby, it would have been perfect.
But was that really true? There had been a time when Lynx loved women—all women, no matter their age or form or personality. He might not have understood their minds, but he loved their smiles, their laughter, and their songs. But that had been on Zetith. Women there were so indifferent to males—until you enticed one enough to become your mate, he reminded himself. Then it was lifelong and everlasting. It saddened him to think that they were all gone and had been gone for many years now. His mother, his sisters—all of them dead; all of those beautiful females, and their wonderful planet nothing but dust.
Nothing could bring them back again. He couldn’t even mate with a human female the way his old friends had done in an effort to save the Zetithian race from total extinction. He was one of the last of his kind—and there was nothing he could do to perpetuate his line. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the moonlight reflected in the windows of Bonnie's home. No, there was nothing to be done; not even with a woman who desired him.
&nb
sp; Chapter 11
DESPITE BONNIE'S WISH, LYNX NOT ONLY DIDN’T LEAVE, he didn’t even mention the possibility. Bonnie didn’t suggest it, either, just in case he might want to take Ulla with him when he left. He loved Ulla. It was evident every time he looked at her or touched her.
Bonnie resumed the rhythm of her life, taking back some of the chores that Lynx had assumed over the past few weeks in a futile attempt to get him out of her mind. Salan came by a few times and tried flirting with Lynx again—though after what he’d said to her when they first met, Bonnie was surprised she would even want speak to him—and received no more encouragement than she had before, though he was a bit more tactful. There weren’t very many eligible bachelors in that locale, and though Lynx was an attractive creature, Bonnie wondered how anyone could be masochistic enough for another try once they’d been so flatly rejected, though it hadn’t stopped Bonnie from wanting him, either. In an effort to cheer Salan up after a particularly disappointing visit, Bonnie confided to her that Lynx didn’t like women in general, but doubted that it helped very much. Even though Bonnie knew how she felt, it was amusing and somehow comforting to sit back and watch Salan's thwarted attempts at seduction.
Another bright spot was a visit from Zuannis. She didn’t get out that way very often, and when she called ahead, Bonnie knew she was in for some much needed entertainment.
After properly praising Shaulla to the skies, Zuannis had plenty of news to relay.
“And now,” she began, with the air of one about to tell a tale of epic proportions, “the story of last week's market day—which you missed.”
“Salan hinted at something when she was here last,” Bonnie said, eager to hear more. “Something about Hatul?”
“Ah, yes,” Zuannis said, laughing. “He went too far.”
“Gerna left him?” Bonnie gasped.
“In a manner of speaking,” Zuannis replied, her smile brimming with mischief. “She won’t speak to him.”
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