Page 14 of Rescued By the Luxirian

I heard the truth in my own voice. Because oddly enough, even though I’d heard stories about aliens trafficking human females, even though I carried around a small dagger and mace in my satchel even on Wero, even though I was aware ofallthe dangers there were as a single female living alone on a busy colony…I stilltrustedhim.

I…wasn’t afraid. I might have been at first. But there was something inherently calming about him. And it wasn’t just the way he purred.

There was something else. An undercurrent of mutual understanding between us.

It was refreshing.

And yes, I was extremely disappointed that I might miss my appointment at the fertility clinic, an appointment that had been nearly impossible to secure. But there werepeopleout there—who were probably terrified or hurt—who might not have been as lucky as me after the wreck.

I had a domed roof over my head, a belly that was filled with the juiciest steak I think I’d ever had, and a hot Luxirian maleto ogle. Life could be worse. Much, much worse. Especially if he hadn’t found me in the middle of the jungle in that life pod.

Going forward, I vowed that I would remember that. So maybe I wouldn’t be pregnant within the week. Maybe the hefty deposit I’d made for the appointment would go up in smoke.

At least, I wasalive.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, pointing down to the steak he’d made me, seasoned in something smoky and spicy. “I can’t eat all of this.”

“You can’t?” he asked, frowning down at the plate. Like he’d expected me to be able to eat a slab of meat the size of my head. Luxirians’ appetites were, no doubt, enormous. But that didn’t mean that humans’ were up to their level.

I huffed out a laugh that had him cocking his head. “No.”

He shrugged. “I’ll eat what you don’t. Don’t worry, female.”

“So, uh,” I started, waving my fork in the air, a strange one with six prongs, though the sixth was cut in half, “how is this going to work?”

His brow furrowed. He leaned back against the opposite counter, crossing his arms over his less-gleamy chest. Still, it made the muscles bulge…and I’m sure my eyes were doing something similar as I stared.

Who could blame me?

“How iswhatgoing to work?”

“Well, I’m here for at least a week, right?” I asked. “I don’t want to assume that I’ll be staying with you, taking up your space, eating your food, you know?” He scowled and I hurriedly said, “I just mean that I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. I can…I can pay you for the week. Like rent! And um?—”

“Lyra,” came the sharp, tight bark.

I bit my lip, my spine going ramrod straight, the word making the words die in my throat. “Yes?”

Andwhydid that authoritative little snap make my belly go all fluttery? Especially when it wasmyname?

“No payments,” he ordered. The words were stern enough that I wouldn’t even think about arguing. “You will stay here. You can have my bed. I have plenty of food stored in my cellar. And I have plenty of space, so how much do you think you’ll truly take up?”

I blinked.

Well, when he put it like that…

“I can’t take your bed,” I said quietly. My eyes caught on the living room. “I can sleep there.”

“Nix,” he rasped.

“But—”

“Nix.”

“It looks perfectly comfortable!” I argued.

“Nix.”

My lips parted and then closed. His body language was unyielding.

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