Page 8 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

I wasn’t even convinced that my pain was the source of my agitation. No, I seethed now because I’d have to return this pretty creature to Oaken. Or to the warden’s station, if she wanted to leave.

And…

I found I did not want to.

I had not experienced this when I’d finally seen Cherry, Darcy, and Magnolia for the first time. Nor had I been wracked with such a sudden, possessive jealousy when I’d first met Tasha, who had since become the warden’s wife. I’d been startled by their human beauty, and even more startled by the happiness I witnessed in their husbands. Seeing the otherhuman women in person had been the thing to finally convince me to participate in the bride program.

But I’d never wanted to keep another one of the men’s wives for myself. Until now.

Which was ridiculous.

Blame it on the head injury.

My head was going to hurt something awful come morning, blast it all. Even now, I moved as if through deep mud towards her. My steps were heavy, my brain water-logged, my pulse throbbing in my ripped hand and bleeding chest.

At least she is alright.

It was rather infuriating, that I could be so injured and barely care beyond relief that she was well. Another man’s wife, no less! I’d torn myself open protecting a female who’d made vows to idiotic Oaken, a fool so besotted with the idea of a human wife that he’d broken his own leg trying to get one.

I’d always sworn I would never be so pathetic as that.

I felt the blood pump from my body and grimly acknowledge that it appeared I’d already failed.

“Sorry,” the female said in a rush as I reached her. “I wasn’t sure which way to go. So I used a beacon on my comms tablet and…” Her eyes slid beyond my shoulder, settling briefly on the bull before coming back to me. “Obviously that didn’t go very well.”

What an obnoxiously lovely woman. I watched her mouth form words and found myself moved so entirely to distraction that I forgot my pain, forgot my anger, almost forgot that she was married to someone else.

Almost. But not quite.

“Where is Oaken?” the question sawed out of me. I rolled my neck and cracked my jaw, trying to clear some of the aching dimness from my head.

Her mouth puckered. Her slim brows drew together.

“Who’s Oaken?”

I tensed, drawing my head back down to regard her. “You are not Jaya?”

“Nope,” she replied. “Unless that’s your way of pronouncing Jolene. Which is my name.”

Jolene…

“Never heard of you.”

Her brows rose now. Then, she let out a startled little laugh.

“Well, that makes two of us. Because I’ve never heard of you, either.” When I did not reply right away, she cocked her head. “Got a name there, bull rider?”

She was smiling. Smiling atme. I could not remember the last time a female had done so. Probably Meryn, before my conviction.

But this woman’s smiles did not make me feel the way my sister’s smiles had. This smile made me feel like I’d lost half my brain tonight. Like I was stumbling, clueless as a young boy.

And I’dneverbeen clueless, even as a young boy.

“Zohro.”

I did not see how I owed this woman my name after I’d nearly gotten my hand ripped off and my teeth knocked out on her behalf. But that smile of hers told me that it could steal any secret from me. And when I gave her my name, her eyes warmed with pure delight. Delight that I wanted to lean towards, like a freezing man towards flame.

“Jolene Macdonald,” she said. She passed Wyn’s reins to me, then stuck out her right hand. I recognized the gesture from the book Tasha had written. I’d read it more than ten times over, begrudgingly at first, but then with something much more feverish, fervent. Maybe even obsessive.

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