Page 13 of Alien Mine

“It won’t help—”

“You will tell me, woman.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Now listen here, Dyuvad. You’re not my boss.”

He stalked toward her, closing the distance between them, and enunciated his words carefully so there would be no misunderstandings. “I am your family’s protector, Rachel Athena Hunter.”

She held up a hand, warding him off. “I’m a woman full grown and perfectly capable of seeing to my family’s protection, thank you.”

He pinned her against the counter, his hands braced one on either side of her hips, and leaned down, nose to nose with her. “I have no doubt of your fierceness, but fierceness alone will not stop these men. Do not set yourself against me on this.”

“I…” Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her breaths shallowed. “Um. What were we talking about again?”

He smiled, satisfied to his bones with her response. A woman yielded to her man’s judgment on matters of security, as he yielded to hers in other ways. Rachel wasn’t his, true, but their temporary living situation was close enough to matings among the Pruxnæ to work in the same way. She managed his activities on her farm, and in return, he afforded her the strength of his body, in whatever form she needed.

It would work perfectly.

He eased upright and leaned his hips into hers. “You were acquiescing.”

She blinked, clearing the dreamy expression from her features. “No, I was—”

“Acquiescing,” he said firmly, and kissed her before she could disagree. Shemmmdagainst his mouth and softened, warming to the slow meld of his flesh with hers, and something hot and needy flared to life within him. He reined it in, forcinghimself to gentle his touch, to grip the counter and not her hips, to savor and taste, not devour.

The temptation was there to tease her into opening for him, to ease his hand under her shirt and touch her bare skin with his. To push her faster and harder than he’d ever pushed a woman before, and possibly push his skittish landlady right out of his arms, and him right out of her life.

He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, and their sharp breaths mingled in the space between their mouths. There was no rush to know her, no hurry. They had time to learn each other, later, after everyone was safe and Rachel learned to trust him.

“Tell me what you know about Miguel,” he whispered.

Her laugh was husky and soft, and her fingers a welcome heat against his bare stomach. “I think better when you’re not so close.”

He straightened away from her, giving her the reprieve she needed. For now. “Better?”

She placed both hands flat on his stomach and shoved gently. “No, Dyuvad. Honestly. I need more than a foot of space unless you want to go hungry.”

“Two feet and no more,” he teased, though he had only a vague idea how much space a foot was compared to Galactic Standard measurements. “Talk quickly, woman. Your daughters will awaken soon and there is much work to be done.”

“A woman’s work,” she muttered, and retrieved a rectangular box from a cupboard. “Cold cereal this morning, and that’s what you get for crowding me.”

He grinned. Crowding wasn’t the word he would’ve used, but he let it go. Rachel could have her space as long as he got the information he needed. Later, though, he was going to kiss her again, and she would kiss him back and feed the passion blossoming between them.

Rachel thought about that kiss all day long. Her lips were stilltingling when she went out to milk the goats and see to their feed. Georgette about got away from her, too, would’ve if Dyuvad hadn’t come whistling along behind her, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Maybe she could’ve forgotten it if he’d been fully dressed. Apparently, that would’ve been too much to ask. He’d buttoned his jeans and gone shirtless. Hadn’t even bothered to tie his boots up or anything before he’d sauntered out, but that wasn’t what held her attention. His chest was a mile wide if it was an inch, all smooth skin and delicious tan over hard muscles, and his stomach was lean as a washboard. She’d had her fingers on that stomach, felt it tighten and crease every time Dyuvad brushed his mouth along hers.

And that tattoo. It’d changed colors during their kiss, from solid black to muted shades of reds and golds. She’d wanted nothing more than to run her hands over it or maybe her mouth. Still did, truth be told.

Rachel sucked in a breath and put her back to that temptation. A body could only take so much. Nigh on three years was a long time for a woman to do without, even a woman who believed sex should be confined to the marital bed.

Figuratively speaking.

Rachel came to a lot of hard truths that day. For one, those tattoos weren’t the only temptation she faced. Dyuvad had broken off that kiss about three shakes before her mind could drift around to the idea of him taking her right there against the counter. She thought about it later, though, way more than a God fearing woman oughta, that was for sure. What would it have felt like for him hoist her onto the counter with those big hands of his and wedge himself between her thighs?

She finished her goat chores with her sex tingling and her nipples budded into tight nubs, and moved on to weeding the vegetable garden protected by the highest, most goat-proof fence she and Fate had been able to cobble together. Truth was, she wanted Dyuvad to do it again, and it didn’t shame her a’tall. Why should it? She was a grown woman, unattached save for her kidsand Fate, and Dyuvad was a grown man. A good one, she suspected, in spite of his high-handedness.

And that was all the introspection she could handle for one day.

She attacked the weeds with a vengeance, pouring out her newly discovered sexual frustration on a row of unsuspecting corn, beans, and squash she’d interplanted. Dyuvad and the girls stayed out of her way, occupying themselves with who knew what. Rachel tuned one ear to the low rumble of Dyuvad’s accented English and the girls’ bright chatter, and settled herself in for a good morning’s work.

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