“And Hope.” Jenna sat across from her. “She and R’har are expecting a baby now.”
Summer’s brow creased. “Who the hell is Hope?”
“My friend.” Jenna waved it away. “You don’t know her.”
“How many of us are there here?” Summer demanded. “How many women?”
“You’re the third.”
“But there’s going to be more?”
Jenna closed her eyes briefly. “Yes.”
“Did you—” She didn’t want to ask this, she really didn’t. “Have you been helping them, Jenna? Helping the g’hir do this to us?”
“Once they knew about me,” Jenna said roughly, “there was no stopping them. When Ra’kur brought me here, when they knew there were females that were compatible—”
“Jenna,” Summer broke in. “You’ve got to help me! Help me get home!”
Jenna hesitated. “What’s happening here is very delicate, Summer. The clanfather has already denied you sanctuary and—”
“I meant what I said about Mirak! He told me I would be staying with Ar’ar no matter what I decide.”
Jenna’s mouth tightened. “Oh, I believe you. I know what kind of man Mirak is.”
“Then let me stay here! If not sanctuary, maybe as your guest—”
“You could . . . if the Choosing Day had passed.” She shook her head. “Think of it as a human honeymoon. You wouldn’t up and go to a girlfriend’s house in the middle of it.”
“Please.” Summer clasped Jenna’s hand. “I need your help! I need to get home!”
Jenna wet her lips, her chocolate eyes hesitant, and Summer’s hopes rose.
Then Jenna shook her head. “Try to understand, the Erah have no way to keep you in our territory—not without facing a very bloody clan war.” Jenna squeezed her hand as she delivered the devastating words. “Legally you have to wait until your Choosing Day.”
Summer’s throat tightened. Jenna wouldn’t—or maybe couldn’t—help her.
She was on her own here.
But she hadn’t seen Jenna since before she’d taken up with Dean, Jenna had been so busy with her bakery, with her grandfather’s illness—
She doesn’t know about Emma. She can’t or she would have asked about my baby right off . . .
And I’m sure as fuck not going to risk telling her now.
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.” Summer pulled her hand out of Jenna’s grasp and stood wearily. “Look, I took a bath in the river a few hours ago but I sure wouldn’t mind splashing water on my face and some clean clothes.”
“Oh, I knew that dress would match your eyes,” Jenna said from her place in the living room as Summer came out to join her. She was seated, her baby in her arms, nursing. “Turn around. Let me see.”
Sighing inwardly, Summer held out the skirt of the sky blue dress and turned so her friend could see the back of the floor-length gown. She had brushed her hair smooth and Jenna had found delicate little crystal decorated silk slippers for her too.
“What about jewelry?” Jenna offered.
“No jewelry, thanks.” Who was she supposed to be dressing up for anyway? To be marched back to the Betari enclosure for a life sentence?
“But you have to have some!” Jenna protested.
Summer folded her arms. “Hey, have you seen my friend Jenna anywhere? You know, the girl who wore denim overalls all summer for years?”
“Go back into my dressing room,” Jenna insisted. “Open the top drawer and take the dark blue jewelry set. There’s a necklace, bracelets, earrings—put them all on and let me see.”
“Jenna—”
“Let me see, for heaven’s sake!”
“Fine,” Summer muttered, stomping out of the living area and heading through Jenna’s suite to her dressing room. Pulling just the top drawer open revealed jewels to rival those she’d taken from the Betari, jewels that remained, still wrapped, in the pack she’d left in the corner of this room when she’d come in to change.
Not that she wanted to wear the Betari jewels any more than she wanted to wear Jenna’s . . .
“Happy?” Summer asked as she rejoined Jenna in the living room. She held her arms out, the bracelets sparkling in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the balcony, the necklace heavy with jewels around her neck.
“What about the earrings?”
“Marie Antoinette wore smaller earrings! Those things weigh a ton and I really don’t need my ears hurting on top of everything.”
“Well, I guess that’ll have to do then,” Jenna sighed.
“Well, thanks,” Summer grumbled. “I’m having a great day too.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Jenna stood, holding her baby with one hand as she closed her top with the other. “You look wonderful.”
Watching her, Summer couldn’t help but smile a little. “Ah, Mommy dexterity. You could probably breastfeed, swing a hula hoop on your left foot, and recite the—”
Just then Jenna’s infant daughter—Anna—looked her way and Summer broke off.
She was a gorgeous baby, with cherubic fat cheeks, pink little mouth, and chubby fists; her barely rippled forehead made her look cute rather than beastly.
Emma’s eyes were blue too.
But Anna’s glowed the same vibrant shade as her g’hir father’s—and Ke’lar’s.
“I think she’s beautiful,” Jenna said sharply.
“She is,” Summer said hoarsely. “She really is, Jenna.”
The sincerity in her voice seemed to soften her friend again but caught her attention too.
“You two were alone for days,” Jenna said bluntly. “Did something happen between you and Ke’lar?”
“No.” Summer met her gaze squarely. “Nothing.”
Jenna’s brown eyes narrowed. “Summer Mills, you are worst liar in three counties.”
Summer gave a short laugh. “And now this quadrant of the galaxy.”
Jenna chuckled too then her smile faded. “Ke’lar . . . the way he looked at you I thought—”
Summer’s throat tightened. “Then we were both wrong.” She looked at her friend, at the tender way she held her baby. “So . . . you really love him? Ra’kur?”
“Yes,” Jenna said fiercely. “I do.”
“Then I’m happy for you.”
She meant it too.
Jenna wet her lips. “Summer, listen, I know what you think but Ra’kur—”
Whatever her friend wanted her to know about her g’hir mate was cut off by a sharp knock. Before Jenna could even respond, Ar’ar was opening the door and stepping inside.
Annoyance flashed over her friend’s face at the rudeness, at the unapologetic intrusion.
But hey, that’s a g’hir for you . . .
The four Betari warriors, Ar’ar’s clanbrothers, still stood guard outside Jenna’s quarters and they exchanged a look with Ar’ar as he shut the door behind him in silent assurance that they wouldn’t be going anywhere.
“Ar’ar,” Jenna said, shifting the baby to her hip, her tone pleasant as if he hadn’t just barged into her quarters without invitation. “We were just about to go downstairs.”
“This is your daughter?” Ar’ar asked, his eyes fixed on the child as he approached.
“Yes,” Jenna said, proud as any momma would be.
“May the All Mother bless us too with a child so healthy, so lovely,” Ar’ar growled fervently. He glanced at Summer then addressed Jenna again. “And may She bless you with many more offspring.”
“Thank you,” Jenna said formally.
“The feast will begin soon,” he said. “I have come to escort my mate to your hall.”
“Thank goodness,” Jenna said cheerfully. “I am starving, y’all! Back home we have something called pancakes. Usually they’re eaten for breakfast—first meal, that is—and so I was thinking for the morning—”
“We are grateful for your hospitality”—Ar’ar’s glance flicked to Summer—“but we will not remain the night.
I am eager to take my mate home.”
“Oh,” Jenna murmured then brightened. “Well, we should get downstairs then.”
“I will speak with my mate first,” Ar’ar said firmly. “Alone.”
Jenna looked like she was scrambling for some excuse but this wasn’t Jenna’s battle, it was hers.
“Go ahead,” Summer said, swallowing back her own trepidation. “I’ll see you in a couple minutes.”
Jenna hesitated. “Just a couple, okay?” She looked at Ar’ar. “It’s the human custom that no one begins the meal until everyone is assembled.” She gave him a tight smile. “Now, don’t you keep us waiting, you hear?”
“I’ll let you know if I see any Yankees coming to burn the place,” Summer promised, with a wry look toward the balcony and the alien forest beyond.
Despite the joke, Jenna sent her a worried look, pausing at the ornate door to shift the baby’s weight onto her hip. Summer sent her friend a confident smile she wasn’t feeling at all and Jenna gave a nod, then shut the door behind her.
But now she was alone with Ar’ar.
And from the molten yellow gaze that fixed on her, that wasn’t a good thing.
Seventeen
“I searched for you,” Ar’ar growled, his fangs showing. “For days I searched and I feared for you.”
Summer lifted her chin. “I find that a little hard to believe.”
“That I searched for you?” he demanded, outraged. “I crossed and re-crossed our territory a dozen times seeking you!”
“That you were worried about me. If you cared about me, you’d care about what I want.”
“You are my mate. You are my responsibility!”
“I am not anyone’s responsibility—I’m not anyone’s period—except my own.”
His jaw worked for a moment. “You slipped from our bed in the middle of the night—”
“Your bed,” she corrected. “My bed is back on Earth, remember?”
His nostrils flared. “I was a fool to trust you. A fool to believe you might come to care for me.”
Yeah, that’s going around.
“I have tried to be a good mate to you. To make you happy,” he continued.
Summer folded her arms. “What part of ripping me out of my life and holding me prisoner on an alien planet do you think would make me all holly-jolly, anyway?”
Ar’ar, all seven feet of solid warrior muscle, glowered down at her. “My capture was intended to honor you, a tribute to your beauty. I tried to keep you safe within the enclosure you will someday rule as clanmother. I sought you day and night when you vanished, fearful of your safety. I have gifted you all I have and you spurn my offerings at every opportunity!”
Somewhere in those narrowed glowing eyes she saw the hurt—the deep hurt—that she’d caused him.
“But I don’t want to be here, Ar’ar,” she said, her tone softening a little. “I don’t want to be your mate.”
“Then that is what I must address . . .” he murmured, stepping a little closer, the softest of rumble-purrs starting in his chest as he pulled her against him.
Summer’s mouth parted as his purr sent waves of pleasure through her.
“Wait . . .” she got out as he gently cupped her cheek. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done long before this.” His rumble-purr deepened as he bent his head, brushing his nose up one side of hers and down the other. “What is it called again? The kiss?”
His mouth touched hers, lightly, experimentally. His purr kept her frozen in place, fearful if she did move it would only be to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer.
He breathed in deeply. “I can scent your arousal. Shall I be gentle with you? Or would you have me put your back to the wall? Hold you open while my cock pleasures you?”
Summer squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it.”
“Why?” he rumbled. “I know speaking of it has roused you more.”
His fingers traced her back and buttocks and she shivered at the sensations it brought.
I have to distract him or I’m really not going to want to stop!
“You really want to do this here?” she gasped. “At the Erah’s clanhouse?”
“Perhaps we both do,” he rumbled, his cock hard against her belly, as his fangs brushed the sensitive skin of her throat.
“I think you’re enjoying this,” Summer got out. “Enjoying playing with me.”
“I am not playing,” Ar’ar murmured tightly, his soft rumble-purr fading enough for Summer to catch her breath, for her head to clear a little.
“We have a responsibility to our clan, Summer, and it is long past time we were mate-bound.” He caught her chin to brush another light kiss against her mouth, his amber eyes burning as he let her go. “I promise, tonight, when we return to our enclosure, to our bed, we will both find pleasure . . .”
Summer pushed her hair away from her flushed face with a shaking hand and took a moment to steady herself against the balcony wall. The suns had nearly set, the Brothers turning the sky magnificent shades of pink and orange and golden yellow.
Ar’ar must have turned up the heat on that rumble-purr of his somehow because she sure didn’t remember having this much trouble controlling herself last time he’d tried to seduce her.
She turned her burning face toward the evening breeze, grateful that Ar’ar had left her alone in Jenna’s quarters; thankful he was allowing her these few spare minutes to compose herself here in the twilight.
And Ar’ar was as eager for it as he’d made her. He seemed just as out of sorts as she felt when he left so he probably needed time to cool off as much as she did.
Unfortunately, he’d had it together enough to leave the guards outside the door.
Credit where credit was due: he was absolutely smoking hot. ’Course her problem with Ar’ar had never been his body, and if her experience with Ke’lar was any indication of typical g’hir male prowess, Ar’ar was going to see to it she had a long night—many long nights—of amazing sex ahead of her.
Man, and you know your life is fucked up when that’s a bad thing . . .
She didn’t love Ar’ar, probably never could, but she sensed somewhere in that muscled chest he had a true and loving heart. In another life—before Emma—she, like Jenna, might have found some happiness here. Maybe not with Ar’ar but with—
Summer gripped the balcony railing. Ke’lar, like Dean, had run out on her just when she’d needed him most.
Emma was only three, so very, very little, and her early memories would be hazy.
And if I never get back to Earth—
Summer put her palm to her forehead, trying to think, trying to draw on a bit more of Paw-Paw’s heritage, summon just one more crazy-like-a-fox plan.
The little blaster was still in her pack but she wouldn’t stand a chance against four warriors. Even if she killed them—and she didn’t think she could—she wouldn’t get far.
Jenna’s quarters were only three floors up but there were no decorative carvings within reach to aid her escape. The old tie-the-bed-sheets-together thing wouldn’t work; the next balcony was about thirty feet down and desperate didn’t mean fucking suicidal.
Ar’ar wasn’t going let her out of his sight unguarded again—that was for sure. Having seen how gorgeous Jenna’s half-human half-g’hir daughter was, the deep longing in his amber eyes was undeniable. She didn’t have to be told how determined Ar’ar was now to have a baby of his—their—own.
Her eyes stung.
Dear God, Emma’s going to forget me. Will anyone ever even show her pictures of me—of her and me together? Will she ever know how much her momma loved her?
Half of Brittle Bridge thought Jenna McNally was dead and rotting in the woods, the other half thought she’d just met some guy and took off, leaving her and Pap’s half-packed house to rot.
Was that what people back home would think about her too? What would people say to Emma? What would her daughter believe as she grew
up without a mother?
Summer swallowed hard, looking out over the alien landscape, out to the vast green forests into which Ke’lar had vanished.
Will she think I just took off and forgot about her? Left for some man or fell to drinking and drugs? Will she hate me?
Or will my baby spend her whole life thinking I’m dead even if nobody knows it for sure?
And who would take care of Emma, who would raise her? Dean sure as hell would do a crappy job of parenting—if he even took it on. Summer doubted very much that he would.
After all, he wasn’t—had never been—the responsible type.
Dean’s momma, Marthe, loved Emma, always sending her little things, dresses she’d sewn for the child herself, toys and ribbons for her hair. Despite her heartache, Summer smiled faintly, remembering how Emma hated having anything in her hair. Summer could scarcely get her to keep the ribbons in long enough to take a picture to email to Marthe.
Summer’s smile faded. Marthe was struggling with a list of health problems a mile long. She might love her granddaughter but she might not have the strength—or the time—to raise her.
Uncle Lester was kindly to them, her and Emma both, always had been, but he’d never married and had no kids of his own. She could hardly see him jumping up to raise a grandniece, either.
He just walked away! Ke’lar just left me with Ar’ar and left Emma alone!
Her fingers clenched. She couldn’t think about him now; she could cry a river for her broken heart when she knew Emma was safe.
When she’d first seen Jenna she’d instantly thought the two of them could escape together, but Jenna was happy here—or maybe just brainwashed into thinking she was. Her friend might help her, or she might be too afraid, but either way Summer was going to get herself home.
A whole room full of people were waiting for her downstairs and she’d give almost anything to hide here in Jenna’s rooms. But if she didn’t go down soon Ar’ar would probably just come back up and get her.
She was a little surprised he hadn’t already.
Summer drew a deep breath and let go of the balcony wall. Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward the door of Jenna’s quarters, toward the guards who would be her new constant companions.
Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 Page 15