Page 31 of Shielded Heart

“Is this why you wanted me to come up to your apartment?” Arcanthus asked.

She looked contrite, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yes. Though…I would like it if you came in.”

Even if she’d had an ulterior motive, Arcanthus viewed this as a victory—shewantedhim to come inside. And he didn’t mind her looking to him for protection; he felt a certain pride in it, a deep-seated satisfaction that could only be explained by his instinctual recognition of her as his mate. Samantha was a timid female, but she was learning to trust him.

How will that trust hold when she finds out you’ve been dishonest with her,Alkorin?

He batted aside the pang of guilt caused by that thought. Now wasn’t the time to consider such matters; he wanted to experience this with his full attention.

“Good,” he said. “I’ve already invited myself, regardless, so it doesn’t matter if you want me to come in or not.”

Samantha laughed and hurried down the hallway to her door—directly across from Rakkob’s—where she lifted her arm to the chip scanner. The door slid open; she stepped through.

Arcanthus followed her into the apartment and swept his gaze over the small space. The room was about seven meters long and five across, containing everything she’d need—a bed in one corner, a kitchen in the opposite corner, and a living space in between with a small couch, a table and two chairs, and a desk against one wall. There were two doors on the right wall—he assumed one led to a bathroom and the other to a storage space.

The furnishings were simple, and, like the building’s hallways, the room was devoid of décor. Apart from the coat draped over one of the chairs, a small pile of clothes on the floor, and the utensils in the sink, there was no evidence of anyone living here.

Samantha closed the door and hurried ahead of him. “Um, make yourself at home,” she said as she bent to retrieve a shirt from the floor. When she rose, she pushed a nearby scrap of white fabric under the couch with the toe of her shoe. “I…wasn’t expecting you to come, and I haven’t had a chance to bring my laundry down, but…”

She shrugged and swept her hands to the side, smiling nervously. “Ta-da?”

Arcanthus’s eyes lingered on the spot beneath the sofa where she’d hidden the white fabric; he’d only had a brief glimpse of it, but he had an idea of what it was. His blood heated further.

Oh, my delicate flower…what am I going to do with you?

What am I going to dotoyou?

“No judgment from me, Samantha,” he said. “This ranks rather high compared to some of the places I’ve lived.” He walked to the couch, stopped directly in front of her, and sat down with his tail angled to the side and draped over the armrest.

“I don’t have much to offer, but would you like sometea?” she asked.

“Yes, if only to find out what it is.”

“Oh! It’s something I brought with me from Earth. My grandmother used to drink it and shared it with me when I was a kid, so I guess I just kind of grew up on it. It’s made with dried herbs steeped in hot water.”

“It sounds interesting, at the very least. I would love to try some.”

She turned, stepped into the kitchen area, and reached up to open a cabinet and retrieve something from within. Her movement lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing the luscious curve of her ass through her pants—the ass he’d been gifted the briefest glimpse of during their call the night before. He stared hungrily at what he could not yet have; as wonderful as this day had been, it seemed he was intent on torturing himself throughout it.

Well, what’s a little more torture going to hurt?

While her back was turned, he shifted his tail, guiding it under the couch. It slithered beneath a piece of cloth, and he curled its tip to hook the fabric. He kept his central eye on Samantha and dipped the other two to his lap as he withdrew his prize, depositing it in his waiting hands.

A white pair of panties.

Herpanties.

Arcanthus grinned, and for a few seconds, had to restrain himself; he had the overwhelming urge to raise the panties to his face and inhale her scent—herintimatescent—but that was too risky. He forced his lower eyes back to her as he folded the cloth, slipped it into his robe, and tucked it beneath the leather strap securing his loincloth in place.

She turned her face to look at him.

He stretched one arm along the back of the couch and lifted a leg, settling his ankle atop his knee. “Everything going all right over there, little terran?”

“Yes.” She picked up two cups and approached Arc, offering him one—along with a smile. “It’s a little hot.”

“I’ve never been bothered by a little heat,” he replied as he accepted the drink.

She averted her gaze, took her cup in both hands, and brought it up to her face, holding it just beneath her nose. Her nostrils flared with a soft inhalation.

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