Page 29 of Maid for the Alien Prince

“Who?”

“My father.”

“Was he good to you?”

Prince Rayaw’s eyes searched mine and he looked away. “The best. Who did you have to look after you?”

“My dad,” I said, not wanting to admit we had anything in common. “What happened to your mother?”

“She died from the Quissix flu.”

It had swept through many parts of the galaxy, I recalled. Being out in the sticks on a remote planet, we’d been spared the worst of it.

Death was not quick, nor was it painless.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

He nodded. “What happened to your mother?”

“She… didn’t. That is… Do we have to talk about this?”

“No. But we should take a seat.”

We sat on the end of the bed. The mattress seemed to bear down on us like a monster and I couldn’t stop glancing at it.

“It’s important we form a bond before we give ourselves.”

“You didn’t mention forming bonds,” I said. “I assumed it would be just…”

My eyes moved to the big bed, which seemed a whole lot smaller with him standing beside me.

“That comes later. First, we must get to know each other.”

“All right. So what happened to your previous Steyatt mate? I don’t believe you didn’t have one before stumbling upon me in the middle of the night.”

He looked at me levelly. “She turned out to be an assassin and tried to slit my throat.”

I blinked in surprise and looked him over, looking to see if there was any hint of a joke on his part. So far as I could tell, there was none. “That’s… not great.”

He nodded. “She managed to cut me a couple of times on my arms.” He reached for his sleeves. “Would you like to see?”

“That’s all right.”

Having him begin to take off his clothes could only lead to one conclusion.

He placed his hand on my bare knee—my skirt had slid halfway up my thigh and provided easy access. Shivers traveled the length of my body as his thumb gently stroked my skin.

The Ulsen were striking in appearance, with their huge, pointed horns and their squat noses pressed flat against their faces, and looked more like a bull back on Earth than anything else I could name.

His skin was blue, the color of a perfect summer sky, his frame lean, hard, and muscular. From a young age, I had been quite taken with them, and it had taken me some time to get used to their appearance. Now, I didn’t even double take.

Except for those golden eyes that glinted like a wolf’s in the midst of a hunt.

He turned to me. “Perhaps you could tell me about—”

“I would rather we just get on with it,” I interrupted again.

His look became hard. “Very well.”

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