Earth females were a mystery. I’d only met Natalie, Roark’s mate, and that had not helped me with my understanding of their minds when it came to choosing mates.
But Roark and Natalie had been matched through the Interstellar Brides Program. Perhaps that was why they seemed to move in and out of each other’s space seamlessly, as if they were one person. One soul.
I would never ask you to give up anything for me.
Never.
That was a gods damned long time.
Ignoring the ache spreading in my chest, I stroked her shoulder and placed a kiss on top of her head. “I must head south in the morning. I will be gone several weeks. I wanted you to know.”
“Okay.”
I knew that meant she understood and was not upset I would be leaving. That Earth slang I had picked up from her and Natalie over the two years since their initial arrival providing me the comprehension I required. But that one word of simple agreement also hurt.
My lips lingered in her hair, the dark softness a soothing balm against my skin. I could stay here, holding her, forever. But that was not to be my fate. I had to leave in the morning, a rise in illegal weapons trade on the southern coast required my attention. Roark had asked me to take care of it himself.
People were dying in the smaller cities, victims of territorial wars between smugglers’ factions. It had to be stopped.
A soldier would be easily identified and killed if he tried to enter the smugglers’ camp.
But a doctor? I’d be recruited. Taken to the inner circle. Trusted to treat their mates and children, heal their wounds.
They wouldn’t see me as a threat until it was too late.
It seemed no one expected much of me. Not the smugglers. And not the female who had fallen asleep in my arms.
My chest was wet beneath her eyes, a sign of more tears.
Even in that, I was not trusted. Miranda was hurting, yet she didn’t trust me with her truths. Her hurts. Only with her body. All I was to her was… okay.
When I returned from my next mission, I would do everything in my power to convince her that okay wasn’t enough. I wanted her to be mine. I wanted to hear a yes from her lips, not only when I brought her to orgasm, but when I asked her to be my mate, my partner in bed and out. And if that meant I had to tie her down and give her a thousand orgasms, break barriers down until she was a sobbing, sweaty, exhausted mess and that one word would be uttered again and again, I would.
She was mine. She simply did not know it yet.
3
Miranda, Personal Quarters, Xalia City, Five Weeks Later
* * *
“Okay, girlfriend, I brought the wine.”
Natalie held up a bottle of pale liquid and walked past me into my quarters. I’d sent her a comms message and she had appeared—thankfully not empty-handed—in less than an hour. With a newborn, a toddler and a very attentive mate, I was impressed she’d torn herself away so quickly.
The door to my quarters silently slid closed behind her, and I followed her into my small kitchen area. Thank god for BFFs, even on Trion. I couldn’t even imagine if I’d remained on Earth without her. Here, even on a planet we were growing accustomed to, we’d needed each other. Of course, she had hottie Roark. And little Noah, who wasn’t so dang little anymore, not with Roark’s genes in him. And then baby Talia. I grinned, thinking about how much trouble Roark was going to be in soon enough. She was only five weeks old and that little girl had her daddy wrapped around her little finger, just like her mama.
“The bottle’s a little different than on Earth, but the wine tastes the same,” Natalie continued, reaching for glasses and setting them on the counter. She was a mother of two, and she still looked amazing. She was everything I was not… tall. Blonde. Gorgeous.
I had mousy brown hair and unremarkable features. I wasn’t particularly beautiful, my nose was too long, my chin was too pointy, my left eye was slightly bigger than my right, and I’d never grown out of my gangly teenage phase. Laser surgery had taken care of my near-sightedness when I was just out of high school, but even without the glasses I’d worn most of my life, I still felt like a newborn colt trying to figure out how to walk on wobbly legs. I’d never had that whole confidence thing. Since Brax, I was better, but I was still me.
Plain old me.
“I don’t think one bottle is going to be enough.”
“That bad, huh?” Natalie tilted her head in that sympathetic girlfriend way and made a face. “Well, I know where the chef keeps his stash. I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Natalie held out a fist, her pinky the only finger sticking straight out. “Pinky swear?”