TWELVE

THREE DAYS AND twelve psychics later, Katie and Jorlan had developed a routine.

Morning: jog, visit psychics.

Afternoon: work at the Victorian.

Evening: talk, watch television.

Twilight: sleep apart and fantasize.

Though his body and mind screamed that he at last tup her, that his time was quickly running out, Jorlan hadn’t kissed Katie, hadn’t touched her, or whispered erotic words to her. Nay, he was subtly, through pleasantries and courtesies, trying to win her love and convince her to wed him. So far, he had failed. In fact, his solicitous manner had had the opposite effect on Katie, and it seemed as if she retreated a bit more from him each day. The continued failure, both with Katie and with the psychics, was causing his desperation to grow.

Only ten days remained. Ten short days until the curse claimed him once more.

Could he afford to lose another day to her stubbornness? More and more he felt the coldness of stone running through his blood, trying to freeze him where he stood. He had to make Katie love him. Had to force her to fall by whatever means necessary. He couldn’t tolerate failure much longer. Soon. He had to win her soon.

But what could he try that he had not already tried?

He’d pursued her sexually, had made her jealous, had shared his past with her, had given her time, and when all of that failed, had pursued her friendship, trying to prove to her that he truly did care for her and desired her happiness. Yet, his efforts had gotten him nothing but lost time.

Curse her. Did she not understand the great honor he was paying her by offering to make her his temporary life-mate? Nay, she did not! With her “No, I will not wed you” and her “You must obey my rules,” the woman was quickly eradicating his legendary control. She should know him well enough by now to know that he would convince her to come with him, that she would give him her heart, and that she would belong to him for however long he wanted to keep her.

He would accept nothing less than absolute compliance from her.

If only this day did not seem destined for failure, as well.

After a minor accident involving Katie’s transportation and a stationary pole, six jaunts into nonmagical establishments and a bout of stomach sickness caused, Jorlan was sure, by a slab of greasy food Katie referred to as pizza, he was not in a good mood. Plus, the new clothing he wore—the item Katie called underwear—was nigh smashing his man parts.

“Well, that’s all of them,” Katie said, brushing her hands together once, twice.

They stood outside The Knowing Palm, a small building that supposedly housed one of the greatest male psychics ever to live. Ever to live in a delusional world of his own creation, mayhap. Birds soared high above him, circling and searching for food. The hot sun beat down. A soft wind danced about, carrying a gentle scent, like flowers and rain that reminded him of Katie.

“We’ve wasted our morning in one shop or another.” Katie shielded her eyes with her hand. “We’ve got work to do, so let’s head over to the Victorian. I’ll put together another list tonight. The Internet is sure to have more names, and we can visit one or two over the weekend. If they’re not too far,” she added.

He paid her speech no heed. “We have been to six places, katya, yet there were seven left on your list.”

Her gaze flicked away guiltily. “We’re not going to the seventh.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll take us four hours to get there and four hours to get back.”

“So?”

“So, that’s hell on the butt, and I’m not doing it.”

“I shall massage away any discomfort you acquire.”

She crossed her hands over her chest. “I have to work in order to live, Jorlan, because when I work, I make money and that money pays for my food and shelter. I’ve gotten behind since you entered my life. I’m not making that drive.”

He simply stared at her.

She bared her teeth in a scowl. “Contrary to what you might think, I do not speak to hear my own voice. I said we could visit more places over the weekend, and we will.”

“I do not wish to wait. I will take your transportation and drive myself.”

“No. No. No!” Katie fisted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. She wasn’t giving in on this and that was final. No way in hell did she want to take an eight-hour road trip. They’d been in and out of the car all morning, and besides that, she really did have to work.

But that isn’t why you don’t want to go. The truth danced within her mind, and Katie stiffened. She hadn’t wanted to visit any psychics today. And she more specifically didn’t want to visit this next one, not because of work or a sore butt, but because she feared success. If they found someone who could take Jorlan home, he’d leave her sooner rather than later.

Didn’t he realize that she wanted him to stay here with her a while longer?

No, he didn’t realize, because he was moving toward her with intent shining in his eyes. She backed up. He continued to advance. Then he was on her. Surprisingly, he didn’t haul her into the truck, and demand she drive him to Lubbock. He simply reached inside her beige short pockets—an innocent touch that caused fireworks to explode between her legs because it was the first touch he’d given her in three days, the jerk—and pulled out the truck ignition key.

Her body screamed find more keys! But she could tell by the irritated look etching Jorlan’s face that assaulting her person, pleasurably or otherwise, was not his intent. He turned away. “I will visit this location, and then I will return to you.”

In a flash she pictured him stranded on some isolated road, or worse, a populated town demanding everyone obey his every command. Someone would take offense, there would be a fight, Jorlan would win (he had a spatula, after all) and the other person would die. Then Jorlan would be hauled away to jail, where he would await trial. The government would find out that he was from another planet and all hell would break loose.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Katie raced behind him, swiped out her foot and tripped him. He crashed onto the hard ground, falling like a condemned home. She moved quickly, rushing to his hands and snatching the key. When she tried to dart out of reach, he latched on to her ankle. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her stomach and trying to suck in air.

Jorlan flipped her over, pried the key from her Kung Fu grip and smiled.

Smiled!

She used her hands to push herself upright and watched him practically skip to the truck.

“Wait!” She jolted after him, spitting gravel along the way. She latched on to his arm. “Let’s compromise about this.”

“I have been a warrior my entire life. I know nothing of compromise.”

With those ominous words ringing in her ears, he shook off her hold and strode to the driver’s side door of her truck. She hopped in front of the vehicle, arms splayed wide. “You compromised about the weapons, didn’t you? You compromised about sleeping on my floor instead of my bed.” She expected him to pick her up and carry her to the side of the road, effectively moving her out of his way.

He didn’t. He remained beside the open door. “If you are concerned about so long a drive,” he said, his tone deceptively soft, “we will not come back until the new dawning.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ve lost enough time because of you.”

“Then I will see you later.” He settled himself inside the cab.

“You don’t know which way to go.” Ha! That should stop him.

The corners of his lips rose in another smug smile. “You have used this map all these many days.” He held up the booklet in question. “Think you I cannot do the same?”

“You don’t know the names of the highways, and you can’t read my language. Besides that, I’ll turn you in to the police for stealing my car.”

He sighed. “Much do I regret the use of force, katya.”

His eyes were darkened, and she paused. “You haven’t used any force,” she said cautiously.

“But I am going to.”

Before she had time to blink, he was out of the car and closing the distance between them. With only minimal protest on her part, he scooped her up into his arms. She could have struggled or fought him harder, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Without a word, he dumped her into the passenger seat and settled himself behind the wheel.

“Now you will go with me,” he said confidently.

Katie made a grab for the key. He easily evaded her, then shoved the jagged metal into the ignition and started pushing pedals. Jerk. Stop. Jerk. Stop. A cold sweat broke over her, and she scooted to his side, trying to take control of the wheel.

He held fast.

If she saw one car, even one, headed toward them, she was going to shove Jorlan out the driver-side door—no matter how many injuries he would sustain. Or, maybe she’d press his carotid artery until he passed out. For now, they were alone on the road and she had time to gently make him rethink this.

“You’re giving me whiplash,” she shouted.

Unconcerned by her supposed pain, he continued on.

“Do you want to kill us both? If you keep this up, you’re going to. And you’re going to ruin my truck! This trip is ridiculous. We don’t even have a change of clothes. We’ll have to come back tonight and then my butt will really hurt and you’ll be sorry because I’ll take it out on you. I have too much work to do on the house. I’m on the clock, you big jackass, and you’re going to pay me for my time.”

“Are you trying to make me wish I’d cut off my ears and left them behind?” he growled, still not sparing her a glance.

“Yes!”

He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had long since turned white. The truck inched along the road, doing no more than five miles per hour.

“I could walk faster than this, grandpa.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and the beleaguered expression on his face was almost comical. “You will clamp your lips together, katya, or I will do it for you.”

“Then do it for me. I’m not shutting up. And know this. If you try and make me stay silent, there will be no one who can tell you that you’re going the wrong freaking way!” Before he could respond, she leaned forward and jerked the volume on the radio to full blast. Meredith Brooks belted out “Bitch.”

The word instantly hit home, and Katie cringed. He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted to go home. Jorlan must think she suffered from permanent PMS. Maybe that was why he hadn’t touched her these last few days. He was afraid she’d attack and kill him in his sleep. Sighing, she turned down the radio. “Pull over,” she told him.

“Nay.” The word emerged like the bark of a caged animal.

“Pull over. I’ll drive us there.”

His chin snapped around. He faced her hopefully. “You speak true?”

“Yes, damn it. Now pull over.”

He would have stopped right there in the middle of the road, so great was his relief. She pointed to the side. “Don’t stop here. Stop over there.” Once at a halt, they quickly switched places.

“You really owe me for this,” she muttered.

“I can very easily pay you once we arrive. I need only a bed and five minutes of your time.” The teasing sparkle was back in his eyes, and only then did she realize how much she’d missed it.

“Five minutes?”

“Nay. I have changed my mind.” His lips twitched. “I only need two.”

Katie shook her head and turned them in the right direction. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Aye. I know.”

And she liked him that way.

They drove in silence for about twenty miles, the soft hum of the radio the only noise. Katie felt Jorlan’s body heat, keeping her mind in the gutter. Perhaps she was, by nature, more sensual than she’d realized. Or perhaps she was simply carnally addicted to Jorlan, because her brain began to weave ribbons of fantasy through her mind. She saw it all so clearly. Jorlan would scoot closer beside her and trail his hand up her thigh, making her shiver and ache for more. His eyes would devour her as he whispered a provocation she could not ignore. I dare you to experience your ultimate pleasure, katya. And she would. Oh, she would. The hot tips of his fingers would push aside her panties and slip easily inside. He would stroke her then, first with leisurely slowness, like a deliberate brush of velvet across steel, then with eager swiftness.

Perhaps he would take his fingers from her and place them in his mouth, as if he couldn’t live another moment without knowing the taste of her.

“Katie?”

The voice was real, not part of her fantasy, and she jolted into awareness. “What!”

“Do you purposefully drive like this?”

“Oh, God!” Amid honks and flashing middle fingers, she jerked the truck off the median and into the proper lane. She took a moment to collect her wits, slow her breathing and control her shaking—shaking that had nothing to do with bad driving. Lord, she wanted to explore his body, wanted to allow him to explore hers. She wanted to feel the hard ripples of his muscles, the smooth silkiness of his skin.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to remain on the road. “I just can’t believe we’re doing this. Were you this impulsive at home?”

“Nay.” He offered no more information. “What is this place like we are going?”

“Pretty much the same as Dallas.” She had to keep him talking, had to keep herself distracted. “You know, you’ve told me about your family, but nothing really substantial about your world. What are the differences between Imperia and Earth, besides the fact that all of your women are slaves?”

He took exception to that. “Women are not slaves on Imperia. They are merely the responsibility of their men.”

She smiled at his set look. “There’s a difference?”

“Aye. A slave must obey his or her master at all times.” He emphasized male slave to the point that the word his echoed in her ears long after he’d spoken. “They have no rights of their own. Ever. But a woman under a man’s protection is allowed to voice her opinion.”

“As long as her opinion isn’t different from her man’s, right?”

“Not in public, nay.”

“Then there is no difference between a slave and a protected woman.”

He sat up straighter in his seat, a clear indication he didn’t like the direction of her thoughts. “Do you purposely misunderstand? A woman is respected. Revered, even. A slave is nothing more than a possession, to be discarded at will.”

“Discarded? Just what the hell does that mean?”

“Just that the slave may be given or sold to another. I did not say I applauded the practice. Just that ’tis the way it is done. You will be happy to know I am beginning to see that not all women should be or need be taken care of.”

Before she could reply to such a wonderful statement, the truck swirled and a loud “pop” rang out. Heart racing, Katie quickly pulled over to the side of the road.

“What is wrong?” Jorlan demanded.

“Flat tire, I think.”

That’s exactly what it was. A little less than forty minutes later, she had the tire changed. She could have done it in half the time if Jorlan had stayed inside the truck as she’d asked him to. But noooo. The barbarian had to stand over her shoulder, offering his opinion about everything!

“Are you sure that goes there?” he had asked. “I would put it here.”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you positive the truck will not flip over? That metal object is holding it at an incline. I would raise the truck from the middle.”

“I’m sure you would.”

“Are you turning the—”

“I’m sure! I’m sure! I’m sure!”

He began chanting something under his breath.

The flat tire exploded.

A strong blast of air and rubber sent her reeling backward. Jorlan loomed over her. He didn’t look concerned for her, though. No, he was frowning down at the slain tire as if it were deadly poison.

“What did you do?” Katie demanded, jumping to her feet. Her pulse had yet to slow.

“A spell,” he grudgingly admitted. “I’d hoped to help you.”

“For God’s sake, never help me again!”

“Not even to wipe the black soot from your face?”

“Not even then!” Her nerves were on edge when they got back on the road a short while later. She was dirty and sweaty and hungry. Worse, she was dismayed. Katie didn’t like that Jorlan had watched her do so unfeminine a task. What man desired a woman who could beat him at sports, change her own tire, and kick his ass in a fight? No one, that’s who. Plenty of men thought of her as “just one of the boys.” She didn’t want Jorlan to think of her that way, too, which was a bit contradictory, she supposed, since she wanted him to see her as independent and capable.

He was just so damn sexy, so masculine, and that masculinity needed a totally feminine counterpart. Her hands clenched. She’d just bet Jorlan preferred short, dark-haired women who wore dresses and lace and spoke with soft, angelic voices.

Everything she was not.

He didn’t want her anymore, she finally admitted. That he hadn’t touched her for three days was telling enough, but she’d continued to hope she was mistaken. If only he’d attempted to seduce her once in the last three days. Just once. She wouldn’t feel so…forgotten. Damn him, anyway. Somewhere out there was a man—besides Jorlan—who would accept who she was. This man would play basketball with her, take her to football games. And every moment they spent together, he would look at her as if she were the most beautiful, feminine creation God had ever produced. Not the way her brothers looked at her, but—

Oh, no! Her brothers. She almost groaned. Her family worried more than most, and she knew they would send out a search party if they discovered her truck gone all night long.

“Hand me the phone in the glove box,” she told Jorlan. Exasperation dripped from her tone.

“What is this glove box?”

She pointed.

“Ask nicely.”

They were back to that again, were they? Frowning, she dug the phone from the compartment herself and punched Erik’s private number. He was the most easygoing of the group, and would probably ask fewer questions.

He answered after the third ring. “James.”

“I’ll be in Lubbock for the night.” She didn’t waste any time.

“What for?” Erik replied.

“Just felt like getting out of town.” I’m becoming a compulsive liar, she thought darkly, and it’s all Jorlan’s fault.

“What for?” her brother asked again.

“I needed a break.”

“You going by yourself?”

“No.”

“Well? Who are you going with?”

She paused. Then offered simply, “Jorlan.” Before Erik could ask any more questions, she said, “Listen, I better go. Aren’t you always warning me about the dangers of driving while talking on the phone?”

“All right, all right. Hint taken.” His deep, rich chuckle rang in her ear. “Lubbock, you said?”

“Yeah.” An eighteen-wheeler whizzed beside them. The driver blew his horn and waved. Katie ignored him. “I’ll be fine, so no worries.”

“Put Jorlan on the phone for a minute.”

“I can barely hear you,” she said, then made static noises. “Must—be—” Grinning, she pressed End and the line went dead. Her grin only grew broader as she pictured Erik sputtering into his phone.

A short while later she realized they were running out of gas. Her smile sloped to a scowl. She blamed Jorlan for this newest development. If he hadn’t insisted on this trip, a trip she hadn’t planned or packed for, she would have been safely ensconced inside the Victorian, not worrying about low octane.

By the time they reached the nearest gas station, the truck was puttering on its last burst of energy. Glaring at Jorlan, she filled up the truck and tallied up another thirty-five-dollar expense. Katie strode inside, gathered up a few necessary items and approached the register. Jorlan owed her big-time for this, and he would pay—but not with cash.

A few minutes later, they were once again eating up the miles.

THE FOUR-HOUR TRIP TO Lubbock took them a little over seven, and the sun had long since set when they finally passed the Welcome sign. Katie’s rear end hurt, but surprisingly, her bad mood had evaporated. Being with Jorlan gave her a sense of joy that far surpassed any negative feelings.

Right now, raindrops were hurling themselves onto the truck, creating several rivers that pooled together at the bottom of the windshield. As she peered past the wipers making perfect arches on the glass and listened to the storm billow in every direction, she maneuvered the truck into a motel parking lot. Not long after, she and Jorlan were the temporary residents of room number 314.

“For dinner, let’s go to a restaurant. I’m sick of fast food,” she told him, heading back to the truck.

He fell into step beside her. “What of the psychic?”

“Closed. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

“With you ’tis always tomorrow.” He sighed.

They had dinner at Blue Waters, a nearby seafood restaurant. Jorlan devoured his crab cakes with unfettered delight. By the time they stepped inside their hotel room, the moon had crested and slowly dripped a golden glow onto night’s shadows.

The first thing Jorlan did was pick up the TV control and start pushing buttons. “What does this do?” he asked. In the next instant, images flooded the small black screen. Of course, her alien didn’t try to hack the television to bits as he had her answering machine. Why would he? Old reruns of Baywatch were playing—a boob marathon. Watching the show with an intense devotion that did the male species proud, he settled atop the bed, stomach down, elbows propped against his chin.

Before Katie could relax as well, a little girl’s screams of “That’s my hamburger” seeped through the walls. The high-pitched words were shouted over and over again, then combined with another, more annoying voice, this one shouting, “Mom, Carrie isn’t sharing.” Soon a sharp ache was pounding in Katie’s temples.

“I’m going out,” she said. It was either that or stomp next door with muzzles and a stun gun.

Jorlan didn’t spare her a glance. “I will go with you.” His tone lacked conviction.

“Are you sure you can tear yourself away?” she said dryly. “I’m going to Cahoots—a bar where people drink ‘lick her.’There’ll be loud music and rowdy people and no women in swimsuits.”

“You will not go to this place alone. I will go. Or—” Now he leveled a gaze at her, his eyes suddenly sparking with passion. “Or we could stay inside this chamber. In this bed.” He eased to his feet and slowly approached her. “I have tried to give you time, katya, but that has not worked for me. Why do I not show you all that you will miss do you not wed me?”

She didn’t retreat. No, she stepped closer as relief and happiness pounded through her. He still wanted her! And Lord, she still wanted him. Without another word, their lips met. On a moan, his tongue swept inside her mouth, hot and demanding. Jorlan cupped her breasts in his hands. Pure ecstasy rocked along her body.

“I want to see you,” he whispered. He tugged at the straps of her tank top.

“I want to see you, too.” She pulled his gray T-shirt from his jeans, and then…

“Mom! Carrie took my shoes.” The little girl’s voice once again penetrated the walls. “Give those back, butthead. Mom! Make her give me back my shoes.”

“Wait.” Breath ragged, Katie disengaged from Jorlan. Her first time was not going to be inside a rented room while the devil’s spawn played nearby. “We have to stop.”

Something dark glimmered in his eyes, eclipsing his passion. “If this is your way to punish me, katya, because I forced you to come here, you chose wisely.”

His words irritated her enough that she didn’t correct him. “If you’re a good boy for the rest of our trip, I’ll let you kiss me when we get home.” She meant it as a rebuke, but realized then that she wanted it to be an invitation.

“Let us go before I no longer care that you have said nay.” Movements clipped, body stiff, he adjusted his “weapons.”

Her nerve endings were still on fire, and if she didn’t leave soon, she was going to forget her reasons for ending their embrace. “Leave the spatula here, okay? Other people might not understand the reasons you carry it.”

Of course, he paid no attention to her warning and brought the stupid thing.

Cahoots was a large bar and club situated on the edge of town. Tumultuous rock music assaulted her ears as she and Jorlan stepped inside and meandered across thin, black carpet in search of a table. All around them, bodies gyrated to the fast-paced beat. Cigarette smoke created a thick, choking cloud that enveloped the dancers like a ghostly hand. Katie wanted to play pool, but all the tables were currently occupied.

Jorlan’s expression was pained and stoic, though he seemed a bit shocked by the intimate way couples were dancing. They settled inside a booth. Katie set the empty beer bottles onto the nook behind them, clearing the table surface. Then, with a sigh, she settled in her seat and simply absorbed the atmosphere.

“What do you think?” she shouted over the music a short time later.

His nose wrinkled. “’Tis…interesting.”

Her lips twitched, but she managed to subdue her grin. “Wanna drink?”

He gave a single shake of his head.

“Well, I do. I’ll be right back.” Katie worked her way to the bar. By the time she reached the shiny mahogany wood, Jorlan was beside her. Two bartenders were on duty, mixing drinks and popping beer caps. A woman stood off in the corner drying glasses; her bright orange nail polish gleamed from the overhead lighting. Her hair was a deep, rich purple. She had a cigarette clamped between her pink, glittery lips; her eyebrow was pierced, and she had a row of cowboy hat tattoos down her right arm.

Katie purchased rum-and-Coke for herself and a 7-Up for Jorlan, knowing he wanted nothing to do with “lick her” unless it involved a tub full of naked women. Her fingers tightened on the glass at the thought of him with other women. She practically shoved the drink at him. “Here.”

One of the male bartenders gave Jorlan a twice over, his eyes growing wide. “Hey, aren’t you—holy shit. I can’t believe this. Man, you’re like Mike Calman, the best lineman ever to play for the Wyoming Wranglers. Will you sign this for me?” He slid a napkin over the bar surface.

At the words Mike Calman several people turned and stared at Jorlan. An avid sports fan, Katie had watched Mike Calman lead his team to several major victories over the last two years, and she didn’t think Jorlan looked anything like the famed football star. Within moments, however, an entire group was surrounding him, asking him questions like, “Where’s your Super Bowl ring?” “Who’s going to replace Coach Garedy?” “Are you thinking of playing for the Cowboys?”

Katie had no idea how Jorlan answered, but whatever he said, the people were charmed. To those who bothered to spare her a glance, she tried to explain Jorlan wasn’t a professional football player, but her protests were laughed off. Finally, she’d had enough and she tugged on his arm. “Let’s go back to the table, Mikey.”

He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

She was just turning back to her table when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the purple-haired woman behind the bar approaching. Her eyes were filled with purpose, and not even her thick, spiky mascara could mask it.

“Anything I can help you with, sugar?” she asked Jorlan. “We don’t get many professional ballplayers in here, but I’m sure I can come up with something to keep you entertained.”

Liberated women were a nuisance, Katie decided. “Mr. Calman here just wants to relax. In private.”

The woman kept her attention on Jorlan as her gaze darkened with disappointment. Somehow, she was still able to convey hot, sexual interest. “You sure, sugar? I’m real good with…balls.”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked.

Katie stiffened. How dare he! She’d brought him to Lubbock out of the goodness of her heart. He owed her a little consideration. And coming on to a starstruck bartender was not her idea of consideration.

“I’m Rinnie, by the way, and a big fan. I swear on the Lone Star Flag that I’ve never seen a lineman with more power.” She squeezed his bicep for emphasis. “Do you mind if I show you off upstairs? The girls are gonna want to meet you.”

“I do not mind, nay.”

“I didn’t know you had an accent. It’s so cute.” Rinnie grinned, a wide grin that spread from ear to ear and revealed slightly crooked, yet utterly endearing front teeth. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to some people. Upstairs is for our VIPs and you, Mike Calman, are definitely VIP. Very Irresistibly Packaged.”

So upstairs they went, though from the frown Rinnie shot her, Katie knew she wasn’t welcome. Katie’s teeth ground together with every step. There was a crowd of people, an equal mix of men and women, situated in one large room, talking and laughing. The entire area looked more like a restaurant than a bar. Small, round tables were situated around a tantalizing buffet of enchiladas, rice, cheese sauce and chips. Katie’s mouth watered, but she made no move to eat. She was too busy guarding her VIP. Not that her death-ray glare was doing any good. Like a pack of bees, everything female swarmed around Jorlan as if he were a pot full of honey and they had to eat him or die.

Rinnie made the introductions. “Hey, everybody. I’m sure you know who this gorgeous man is, so I won’t bother introducing him. Just show him a real good time, you hear, so he’ll come back and visit us.” She leaned into Jorlan. “You let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I’ll just be downstairs.”

All of a sudden everyone wanted a piece of Mike Calman.

For the next hour, Jorlan talked and laughed with everyone but Katie, soaking up attention as if it was oxygen he needed for life support. Fuming, Katie plopped into a chair that was propped against the back wall. Every once in a while a brave man approached her and flirted, but her snappy retorts combined with the prepare-to-die glares Jorlan sent them caused each man to make a hasty retreat. Once she found herself alone again, Jorlan would turn back to whatever woman he was flirting with and ignore her.

She wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing. Teaching her a lesson, perhaps, for ending their kiss too soon? The moral being that if she didn’t snatch him up, someone else would? Oh, yes, that was exactly what he was doing, she realized as she looked, really looked into his eyes. They were glazed with hard-edged determination, not enjoyment. Lord, how many times had she watched her brothers do the same thing to their women?

Well, she could teach Jorlan a lesson. It was about time he learned that Katie James knew how to play the Dating Game! Unfortunately, she had run most of the men out of the room, so her choices were limited. She motioned a short, round man over with an I’m-very-limber smile.

He eagerly joined her.

Jorlan watched Katie interact with the newcomer; she smiled and laughed and acted as if she’d been lost in a desert for an entire span and the chubby man could provide her with water. Black fury surged within him so potently he craved the long, sharp length of his talon. He saw the man latch on to her shoulder—a man who would die if he didn’t remove the offending appendage immediately.

Katie said something to the marked-for-death man. Plump cheeks turning red, he huffily marched away.

Jorlan relaxed. Better. Much better. By her own doing, Katie belonged to him. She’d kissed him. Allowed him to sleep next to her bed. She’d even listened while he spoke of his family. No other man was allowed to touch this woman who was to be his life-mate and live.

Something brushed his jaw. He half turned his attention from Katie and frowned. The woman at his side was persistent, tracing her fingertip over his face. She’d offered him the use of her bed three times already, and had even slipped a key inside his pocket. He muttered something quick and impersonal in her direction, then once again went back to fully watching Katie. She was scowling, but she was alone.

Just then, someone thrust a beer bottle into Katie’s hand. She set aside her empty rum-and-Coke glass. She wasn’t thirsty, but as she continued to cast covert glances in Jorlan’s direction, she pictured herself in a boxing ring with each woman present and drank. Deeply. She’d never enjoyed the taste of beer, but before she realized what she’d done, she had consumed four bottles.

A waitress arrived with a tray of Jell-O shots and nachos. “In honor of Mike,” she said. Cheers circulated throughout the room and Katie found herself having one shot, then another without giving the nachos a second glance. Jorlan, she noticed, didn’t even sip his water. He was too busy watching her. Had he learned his lesson? Not quite well enough, was her guess. Arching one brow, she looked over at him and raised her glass in a silent salute, a salute that said bite me. A leggy brunette, who was wearing a short spandex skirt and minitop, playfully jumped onto his lap.

Who did he think he was, anyway? Only an hour ago he’d tried to get into her pants. Only three days ago—or was it four? — anyway, he’d asked her to marry him. She’d told him no. Big deal. That didn’t mean he had the right to flirt with other women.

Before she knew it, Katie had worked up a good steam.

She jackknifed to her feet and propelled over to the snuggly couple. She pointed to the woman with a shaky finger. When had her hands gotten shaky? “Look here,” she shouted. The noise level tapered to quiet. “The last woman who made a play for him ended up in the hospital.”

“Why?” the woman asked with a little, tinkering laugh. Obviously she thought Katie was joking. She flipped her main of glossy hair over her shoulder. “Did he lick her to death?”

Katie’s eyes narrowed. “No. I broke every bone in her body and ate her organs for breakfast.” She said it with a lethal seriousness thrummed with icy determination.

The brunette jumped up as though Jorlan had suddenly mutated into nuclear waste.

“Now let’s dance,” Katie commanded Jorlan.

A wicked gleam entered his eyes, and he stood, holding out his hand to her. She took it, glaring around her just in case someone decided to protest. Together she and Jorlan strode downstairs and stepped onto the dance floor. It seemed like he had to hold her up, though. In the short time she’d been upstairs, the lower level had somehow become tilted, and each time she moved, her head felt fuzzy.

“That was quite a display, warrior woman.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Aye.”

Well, at least he was truthful about it. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re too handsome, Jorlan. Do you know that?” Her lips clamped shut. Why had she admitted that aloud?

His husky chuckle reverberated against her chest. “Tell me more. Tell me what you like about me.”

For some reason, that sounded like such a good idea. “Well, you’re tall. I think that is sooo sexy.”

“Hmm. What else?”

“At the house that first night, when you were naked, I kept looking down and all I could think about was how big you were and how wonderful you would feel buried deep inside me.”

He stilled. His arms, which were wrapped around her waist, pulled her closer into his embrace. “’Tis very intriguing, that desire of yours.”

“Want me to tell you your bad qualities? They’re bad, very, very bad.” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You’re an alien.” She rose up and glared at him accusingly. “Why’d you have to be an alien?” Too heavy to hold up, her head plopped back onto his shoulder. She sighed, disappointment and need trickling from her lips in a steady stream.

He arched a brow. “What else is bad about me?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember.” Why was the room spinning? “I have a disease, you know?”

“Disease?” The word lashed from his lips with the force of a tornado. “Why did you not tell me before? Should we take you to a healer?” His eyes were the color of a starless night, both blue and black and almost surreal.

“A healer can’t help me.” Her fingers hooked onto the waist of his jeans. “My disease is fatal.”

“Whether you want to or no, you are going to my world, katya, and I will find you a healer.” His arms held her so tightly she was fast losing her breath. “I will listen not to your protests.”

“I know you’re just saying that ’cause you don’t want me to die before I fall in love with you. But what if I can’t? I mean, what if I’m incapable of loving a man? Did you ever think of that? I’m dying of First Date Syndrome, after all. Ever heard of it?”

“You are dying from First Date Syndrome?” he asked, incredulous.

“That’s right.”

He growled low in her ear. “Do not ever do that again, woman. I thought you were truly sick.”

“I am. I’m sick in the head. I’ve never made it past the first date. Maybe, if you were from here, I’d go on a second date with you. Maybe then I’d love you.” Gently stroking her hands up and down his back, she explained about some of the horrid evenings she’d endured. Once she thought he chuckled, but she knew she was mistaken. They were discussing something very serious here, something that affected her entire life. But her head was whirling uncontrollably, and she forgot what she wanted to tell him.

“Jorlan,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

And she did, sliding down into a liquor-soaked darkness.

SOMEHOW, AND JORLAN HAD no idea how, he managed to drive Katie to a nearby lodging without getting either of them killed. The transportation was not easy to manage, but neither was the snoring Katie. He had to pay for a new chamber with Katie’s green paper, since he could not recall where their first lodging was located.

As he carried her to their new room, Katie moaned sporadically. He blamed himself for her condition.

He had watched her consume the truth serum “lick her” yet had done nothing to stop her. Too much had he longed to question her, to discover the truth of her feelings for him. Only, she had fainted before he had the chance to delve too deeply.

He had learned some interesting facts, however.

The woman thought of him as her property. The knowledge was more potent than any healing concoction, and he smiled as he recalled the way she had threatened the dark-tressed woman. He had thought Maylyn loved him, but Maylyn had never been possessive of him. She had been content with what time he could give her, unconcerned if he spent time with another female.

Katie’s possessiveness was indeed a glorious sight. Watching her face down the brunette had caused need to smolder in his blood, and he’d wanted to strip Katie down and plunge deep inside her right there at the bar, while the music blared around them and the smoke billowed like a hidden alcove.

Such thoughts could do him no good now. The hour was late, and they had much to do on the morrow. Inside their small, private chamber, he stripped Katie of her clothing—except for the black material that guarded her feminine portal. Very pretty. The dark fabric against her pale skin was the most ethereal sight he’d ever beheld. As he gazed down at her, his breath heated in his lungs. Her breasts were the perfect size for his hands. Her waist dipped and flared in all the right places.

He’d once noticed freckles on her shoulders and wondered if she had any elsewhere. He now knew she did. Three perfect freckles dotted her stomach. The sight tantalized him, made his body harden all over. He wanted to curse, for he knew these twilight hours would offer him no release, only a sweet kind of torture.

Carefully he placed her in the bed. After stripping down to nothing except skin, he climbed in beside her.

He smiled the entire night.

IT WAS THE WARMEST PILLOW she had ever owned.

Katie snuggled deeper into the mattress, letting the pillow’s heat seep into her flesh. She skimmed her leg upward, found something hard and hot to prop her knee against, and sighed contentedly.

Jorlan’s clean, unique scent enveloped her, giving her a little taste of heaven. She felt so safe, so secure, and she never wanted to leave this warm refuge. Her head ached a bit, but other than that she felt absolutely wonderful.

Somewhere in her conscious mind, she heard a loud crack of thunder boom. Heard rain beat rhythmically against the window. Instead of luring her to sleep, the pitter-patter of rain helped clear the sleepy fog from her mind.

She stretched. Smiled. Stretched again. Hmm, such hard, delicious warmth…

She stilled.

Hard?

Delicious?

Katie’s eyes popped open. She was practically naked. Jorlan was completely naked. And they were in bed. Together.

And it was quite obvious his body liked the contact.

She debated whether to lie back down or run for cover. Finally, Katie scooted away. Just what had happened last night? She knew she and Jorlan hadn’t made love because her body felt the same. Still, there was something so intimate about waking in a man’s arms.

Her gaze caressed his sleeping form. Biting her lip, she tugged at the sheet, showing more and more—

“Good dawning.” Jorlan’s sexy voice rumbled through the cover of silence.

He was awake! Suddenly panicked, she jerked to her feet, taking the sheet with her—which left his nakedness in full view. She tried not to look; she really did. But wow! “What are you doing in my bed?” she demanded, more for the sake of her sanity than anything else.

Unfazed by the fact that his muscled glory was bared for her scrutiny, he watched her. His mouth curled up in a lazy smile. The kind of smile that always preceded trouble. “I am not in your bed. You are in mine.”

“How did I get here?” She searched the room and discovered totally foreign surroundings. “Where are we?”

“I could not find the place you picked, so I purchased us a chamber in this establishment.” Cozy as a kitten, he stretched, eyeing her through half-lowered lids. “Do you not recall?”

Yes, she remembered and suddenly wished she didn’t. With that memory came remembrance of the way she’d acted at the bar. She’d threatened a woman for him. She’d plastered herself against him on the dance floor. She’d admitted how sexy he was. Her cheeks warmed. She turned away. “I have to use the bathroom.”

Jorlan sat up. “I shall join you.”

“No, you won’t!” And with that, she slammed the bathroom door shut and clicked the lock in place. “You did not have my permission to sleep with me,” she shouted to the wooden barrier.

“I was protecting you,” he called.

She wasn’t that stupid. She knew what he’d been doing. Copping a feel, that’s what. Gazing into the mirror, she watched her lips lift in a smile. Then she sighed. If she wasn’t careful, that man was going to have her begging to go with him to his planet, even though he only wanted her on a temporary basis.

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