Page 22 of Lost in Barbarian Space

Colm checked in with his men. The training he’d assigned for Kavon’s warriors had gone well.

“So, how was your mission to the meadows?”

Colm turned and saw a young warrior, Kian, grinning at him. “Fine.”

“I’ve seen the security agent you’re working with.” A look of appreciation crossed the man’s face. “I would trade you for the task in a heartbeat.”

An ugly feeling rose in Colm. “Have you finished work on those breathing exercises I left for you?”

The young warrior’s face cleared. “Uh…not yet, I was planning to⁠—”

“Finish them, Kian. I think you need to hone your control.” And your thoughts.

Colm headed off, planning to go to his rooms.

Instead, pulled by a force he didn’t seem to be able to fight, he found himself in the hallway leading to the security team’s training room.

He reached the doorway and paused. He sucked in a breath.

Honor’s discarded Institute uniform was draped over a chair. All she wore were tight, black leggings, and a tiny top that cupped her breasts and left her toned stomach bare.

She was working with her staff. Lunging, swinging it, moving like she was dancing.

She was gorgeous. He wanted her. Deep inside he felt a flicker, his nanami buzzing.

Today, she’d almost been hurt. The nanami felt like they were ebbing and flowing, pushing at him. He could have lost the chance to taste her because he hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t protected her.

He dragged in a deep breath.

She spotted him and paused. “Hi.”

He cleared his throat. “Don’t stop on my account.”

She nodded, and moved her staff again in a long swing above her head. She lunged to the side, dropping low, one leg bent under her and the other out straight. Then she pushed upward, swinging the staff again. He found her moves almost hypnotic.

Watching her for a few minutes, he felt the intensity inside him settle. Soothed by her fluid movements.

Suddenly, he disliked the distance between them. He crossed the mat on the floor, moving in behind her until only an inch separated their skin.

He felt her go still.

“Will you show me?” he asked.

“How to use the staff?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. He reached around her and wrapped his hands over hers on the staff. She moved and he followed, their bodies brushing together with each slow swing and step.

He scented her arousal and his own surged. He closed the inch between them, pressing his chest against her back. She went still again—like prey scenting a hunter closing in.

But this woman was no prey. She was a warrior in her own right.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her sweaty throat. “I can sense the blood rushing in you.”

She pulled in a shaky breath. “You know I’m attracted to you. There’s no point in me lying about it.” She shivered. “But I don’t think involvement with you is wise, and I’m not interested in a one-night stand. I’m told no woman shares your bed more than once.”

It was true. He could never risk feeling more for a woman, and the truth was, he’d never felt any desire to keep a woman longer.