“He belongs to the people of my province. My grandmother has the ability to commune with the spirit who protects our people.”
“With the spirits?”
“Pere’seiunat came to her in a dream and revealed his warrior essence to her. That’s when she knew what image to place on my spirit mantle.”
“Well, it’s wonderful,” I slurred, appreciating the heat beginning to radiate through my body. The alcohol was kicking in.
“I figured you’d be able to handle this situation better if you were relaxed.”
“Okeydokey.” I sighed, feeling carefree. I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Mission accomplished.”
His lips curled, and his eyes warmed as brief humor crossed his face. “I can see that.”
A surge of tenderness twisted my insides again, but this time I didn’t cringe from it. What I wanted to do was thank him for taking care of me, since he always seemed to be rescuing me from something or other, and then I wanted to assure him that I didn’t usually lead such an exciting life, and that I wasn’t typically this much of a pain in the ass.
What I actually said though was “You’re really super nice.” A hiccup snuck up on me. Belatedly, I covered my mouth, with wide eyes and a giggle.
“Taylor...” It was like he couldn’t stop himself. He gave me a crooked grin, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
But I didn’t know what to do with that. What would Cynthia do?
“I think I gave you too much durma.”
“No, really.” I hiccuped again and frowned at myself for interrupting before continuing. “This is not the alcohol talking (hiccup). Well, maybe it is a little, but really. You act like such a tough guy all the time, with your tough-guy look (hiccup) and your tough-guy muscles and your tough-guy motorcycle, but I’ve (hiccup) got your number.”
His eyes had become riveted on me. They turned slumberous. “You do?” He set both boots flat and leaned forward. “What’s my number?”
For a moment I was mesmerized by his beautiful eyes staring into mine and forgot what I’d been talking about. Hiccup. “Number?”
He reached for my hips and pulled me halfway across the couch toward him, blanket and all, until our faces were inches apart. My heart pounded with excitement at his ability to physically manipulate me. “You said that you had my number.”
“I do?” Did I have his phone number? It was hard to think when I couldn’t tear myself away from his green eyes. “I didn’t mean his phone number,” I mumbled to myself, still caught in his gaze. Hiccup. That’s right. I was starting to figure him out. “I do have your number. You are actually a...do-gooder...a...a Good Samaritan under all that tough-guy stuff. You needed to save someone, and for some reason, I seem to need saving a frickin’ lot these days.” Hiccup.
“You don’t make it easy,” he said gruffly, turning serious, and I knew he was remembering what had happened to me earlier. He gently picked up a lock of curling golden-brown hair where it had escaped my faux updo.
“I don’t?” I got goose bumps from his light, fleeting, inadvertent touches against my skin.
“You’re a frustratingly stubborn woman.” The growl came back to his voice, and I liked it. I could almost feel myself purring.
“I am?”
“Good thing I know one or two of your kind.” His eyes were following the movement of his fingers.
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.” He leaned closer. In that growly, sexy voice he said, “Open your mind to me, lin’de.”
“Why?”
“I need to see you.”
“Why?”
“You make me crazy,” he ground out in a rough whisper.
“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked breathlessly.
“Count on it.”
Wicked heat, swirling desire and naughty thoughts came tumbling through my mental barriers, winding around us deliciously as Ryder’s lips hovered just a hairsbreadth from mine. I could feel his warmth. I could smell his masculine scent, a scent that was making me wanton.
The anticipation built a fever.
His lips lightly brushed mine once...twice...scorching me with each touch, driving heat to private places, but I needed so much more. Ryder, please.
What do you want? The husky sound of his voice wove through my mind. He’d dropped his walls to whisper intimately into my mind.
I want your lips.
His lips took mine fiercely; searing pleasure sizzled through my veins. It was hot. It was wild. With a muffled cry, I grabbed handfuls of his thick black hair, holding him to me where I wanted him most. I nibbled his delicious bottom lip as I’d been dying to do, and he groaned roughly, crushing my breasts to his chest more forcefully as he lowered us both to the sofa. The feel of his weight on me was delectable, his hand squeezing my hip and waist. It was working its way to my breast, and I silently encouraged him. My nipples were hard and aching.
Yes! Feels so good...
Can’t get enough... His rough voice threaded through and around me, lingering.
He ran his tongue over the seam of my lips, parting them then plunging, tasting dark and delicious. His tongue tangled with mine, ramping up the need that was quickly getting away from us.
He pulled back abruptly, his breathing harsh, as he looked at me hungrily, the rough-hewn lines and planes of his face beautifully masculine and imperfect.
“Ryder—” I tried to pull him back down.
“Not like this, lin’de,” he said darkly, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of my head.
“Why stop?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I am not.” My inner sex kitten was glaring at him through my eyes, feeling thwarted. Hiccup. Okay. Maybe I was a little toasted.
“This will happen.” He spoke the vow as he looked into my eyes heavily. “Now be a good girl and turn on your side. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”
I knew he was trying to do the right thing, but honestly, did he really have to be such a Boy Scout?
“Okay, fine. Tell me about this place,” I said with a sigh of exasperation. I turned to face away from him as he slid behind my back to spoon me (so glad it was a deep sofa) with his arm curled over my rib cage. I could feel his hot, hard arousal tucked against my bottom, and I wiggled against it for good measure. He hissed in my ear, staying my hips with one of his heavy hands.
I grinned secretly.
“Be good.” He nipped my earlobe and kissed it.
“You’re not playing fair.”
He ignored that.
“I’m one of the people of the north. We called our federation Sunan, which means seven. It’s made up of seven provinces, and the one we’re in is Milak, named for the ancestor who first led his group of followers to this land.”
“What’s your daily language?”
“Most of us learn English now. We’ve been partners of trade with nations on Earth for several hundred years, but for the last hundred or so, we’ve relied heavily on the U.S. There were numbers of wars over the course of time, which made trade a challenge in other parts of your world. Your nation has been consistently unchanged for the greater length of time in more recent history.”
“That’s crazy. Why doesn’t anyone know about you?”
“We don’t exactly have green skin or extra limbs.” He gave me a squeeze. “We’re very careful. A number of us have worked successfully on Earth for years. We have businesses established, connections, trade routes. A few of the Sunan who work in trade prefer to live solely on Earth, and there are a few from Earth who have come to live with us. Scientists, mostly. Scholars. Most people on your planet can’t know about us. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”