“Then stay.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Stay with me.” Her jawline. “Let me love you properly.” The sensitive spot just below her ear that always made her gasp.
“Rhyx…”
“Say yes.”
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Her hands had found their way to his chest, pressing flat against the scales that covered his heart. He could feel her pulse thrumming through her fingertips, racing in counterpoint to his own.
Then she surged up onto her toes and kissed him—hard, deep, with all the desperation and longing they’d been fighting since she arrived.
“Yes,” she breathed against his lips. “Yes, I’ll stay. God help me, yes.”
Rhyx smiled into the kiss, already lifting her off her feet and carrying her towards the bed of moss where he’d been dreaming of her return.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. But tonight, she was here. Tonight, she was his.
And tonight was all that mattered.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The argument she’d been dreading never materialized.
Alina had spent half the night—the half not occupied with far more pleasant activities—mentally rehearsing her explanation. She’d prepared logical points about why Rhyx couldn’t come with her, why approaching the cyborgs required a delicate touch, why his presence would terrify anyone she spoke to before she could explain.
Instead, when she’d outlined her plan in the pale morning light, Rhyx had simply nodded.
“I will follow,” he said. “At a distance. You won’t see me.”
“Rhyx, I really don’t think?—”
“You go to ask for help from beings who may be connected to what I am.” His blue eyes—those impossible, slitted pupils that should have been terrifying but only made her heart race—held hers steadily. “If they are dangerous, I will be there. If they are not, you can signal me.”
“Signal you how?”
A hint of a smile curved his lips. “I will know.”
She wanted to argue. Every rational part of her brain screamed that bringing a seven-foot golden alien anywhere near other people was a catastrophically bad idea. But there was something in his expression—a quiet certainty, an absolute refusal to let her face potential danger alone—that made the words die in her throat.
He’s learning, she realized. Learning when to push and when to compromise.
“Fine,” she heard herself say. “But you stay hidden until I give you a sign. And for the love of everything holy, put on some pants.”
The look of genuine confusion that crossed his face at that last request had almost made her late.
Now, as her rover bounced across the rocky terrain towards Jeb and Mattie’s claim, Alina found herself glancing at the side mirrors more often than strictly necessary. She couldn’t see Rhyx—he’d been true to his word about that—but knowing he was out there somewhere, following her, made the tightness in her chest ease slightly.
You’re bringing an unknown alien species to meet a cyborg, the scientist part of her brain pointed out. This could go very, very wrong.
The other part of her brain—the part that had spent the night tangled up with said alien species—told the scientist to shut up.
Jeb and Mattie’s claim sat in a shallow valley between two red-rock ridges, their habitat dome a silver bubble against the rust-colored landscape. Unlike the larger research stations,independent claims like this one were modest affairs: a living quarters, a processing facility for whatever minerals the claim holder was mining, and the inevitable tangle of solar panels and communication arrays that kept everything running.
Mattie had been a miner’s daughter back on Earth, or so Cass had told her. One of the rough-and-tumble types who’d grown up knowing the feel of rock dust in her lungs and the weight of a pickaxe in her hands. She’d come to Mars to get away from a bad situation—Cass had been vague on the details—and had somehow ended up claimed by a cyborg who’d been working security for one of the mining corporations.
Claimed. Alina turned the word over in her mind. It was what the cyborgs called their mating bonds, and until a few weeks ago, she’d found it vaguely unsettling. Now, with the memory of Rhyx’s voice growling mine against her skin, she understood it in a way she hadn’t before.
The rover crunched to a halt outside the habitat’s main airlock. Alina took a breath, checked her reflection in the rearview mirror—professional, Falkner, try to look professional—and climbed out.
The airlock cycled open before she could reach for the comm panel.
