Page 22 of Shielded Heart

“Careful? Me?” Arcanthus scoffed. “I’ll be safe becauseyouare coming with me.”

Drakkal’s darkening expression only made Arcanthus’s grin stretch wider.

“You will have the honor of being my driver tomorrow, azhera,” Arc said.

Nostrils flaring and fur bristling, Drakkal asked through bared fangs, “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?”

“You have, but we both know it’s not true.” Arcanthus turned back to the screens on his desk. “Now get out. I have work to do, and you’re distracting me.”

Five

Samantha was a nervous wreck as she waited outside her apartment building. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tucked her hair behind her ears only to shake it free a moment later, and fiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves. She couldn’t stop fidgeting. Her eyes scanned her surroundings in a ceaseless search for Alkorin. Was he coming in a hovercar, or was he walking? What if she somehow missed him? What if he missed her?

She’d received a message on her holocom twelve minutes ago—Be there in fifteen, little terran—and her stomach had been fluttering ever since.

No, not just since the message. I’ve felt like this since I talked to him last night.

She couldn’t quite believe their conversation had been real—couldn’t believe that she’d taken active part in it. He’d flirted with her, and Sam…she’d flirted right back. His holographic image had been delectable, to say the least. If he’d been with her in the flesh, she feared she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.

Dream of me, he’d told her.

And oh, how she’d dreamed of him. His words had triggered something powerful in her subconscious; she’d dreamed of him sliding his metal hands up her legs and over her naked body, caressing and teasing her flesh, coaxing moans from her lips. She’d dreamed of his mouth brushing over hers. And in her dream, she’d welcomed him, opening her legs to take him into her body.

She’d woken with a start, her skin hot and sweaty, her sex pulsing and wet. A need unlike anything she’d ever felt throbbed at her core. The details of her dream had faded quickly—she couldn’t even draw to mind what his body had looked like without his clothing—but she could stillfeelthe aftereffects of his ethereal touch.

What am I doing? This is crazy.

She’d only just met Alkorin, barely knew anything about him, yet she was in danger of placing herself in the same position she’d sought to escape by leaving Earth.

No, he’s different. He’s not like James. He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…

But hecould. Anyone could. She would never have guessed what James was capable of—what he woulddo—in the beginning.

She already knew Alkorin was capable of violence. She’d seen him in action—he’d taken out four aliens within seconds of their attack, a couple of whom had heavier builds than him. And he’d been smiling and joking as things escalated, like he was completely unconcerned with the prospect of facing four hostile gang members at once.

As if it were a game to him.

They deserved it, though. He didn’t fight without reason. He wasprotectingme.

Samantha turned her head to the left, scanning the street nearby.

Someone grabbed the front of her shirt and spun her to the right. She gasped, lifting her gaze to meet her assailant’s eyes as she grasped the hand clutching her shirt with both of hers.

The eyes she found herself staring into were unsurprisingly, terrifyingly familiar.

Rakkob leaned down until his nose was only centimeters away from Sam’s. “I could have shown you a good time, terranji’tas, but you chose to dishonor me instead. So now I’lltakemy pleasure from this weak little body of yours.”

You are mine. You exist only for my pleasure. Weak. Worthless. You’re nothing.

Sam’s blood turned to ice.

Rakkob tugged her toward the apartment building’s entrance.

She scratched at his arm and dug her nails into his hand, leaning back to force her heels against the concrete. “No!”

Something—someone—darted past her; she caught only a flash of crimson cloth and long, dark locks before the newcomer grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of Rakkob’s head.

Alkorin!

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