Page 12 of The Marriage Bargain

“I’ll…I’m going to go get you bedding,” I mumbled. “You’ll have to sleep on the couch, like we discussed earlier. I’ll be right back.”

He said nothing while I practically ran from the living room and his glowing golden eyes. Out in the hallway, which was dark with the lights off, I dropped my forehead against the wall and squeeze my eyelids tightly shut.

“Get. A. Grip.” I whispered to myself. “Get a freaking grip, Delle.”

CHAPTER 8

CAIDE

I stood there watching the human woman dart around the corner into the darkened corridor. My mind followed her, questioning her strange actions and reactions. One moment, she was fierce, snapping at me like she feared nothing and wanted me to know she wasn’t intimidated by me. The next, she blushed scarlet if I stood too close, or went speechless when I touched her. She fascinated me. Absolutely fascinated me.

Her strange responses made me want to provoke her more, test her further. There was nothing calm and austere and deliberate about her, that was for certain. There was nothing submissive and tractable about her, either. Nothing about her that I was familiar with, either from the standpoint of the females on my home planet or the human men who labored under me on my work crew.

The house had gone silent with her disappearance. I kept expecting to hear drawers or cupboards opening as she fetched bedding, but I heard nothing. Several long seconds passed, underscored by the quiet, almost imperceptible ticking of the timepiece on my wrist. What was she doing? Hiding from me?

The notion gave me pause. Surely, I hadn’t upset her that badly. Knowing that perhaps I had was enough to strike a chord of guilt, something I was unused to feeling. I’d never felt guilty about coming to another planet and working to rebuild it, even if we rebuilt it with Asterion preferences rather than human. After all, the humans had destroyed their home, hadn’t they? I’d never felt guilty about assuming leadership over human work crews, about directing them in what I wanted them to do rather than seeing if they had advice or suggestions. I’d never felt particularly guilty about any of my interactions here on Earth. Until now. I truly hadn’t meant to upset this human female, if I had. Merely to provoke her a little. Tease her. Toy with her. Not harm her. I would never harm her. I wasn’t that sort of male. The sort who took what he wanted from a female with callous disregard to her wants or feelings.

The way we Asterions have taken from the humans with utter disregard to them, a treacherous voice spoke into my mind. Hastily, I silenced it.

The humans needed us.

I refused to argue the point. They had needed us, needed the Asterions and the Interstellar Coalition. Perhaps some of the invading races could have been gentler with the Earthlings, but the Asterions weren’t violent. We’d simply assumed control by default, and the humans had followed.

As your father’s family assumed control of you by default, even while refusing to acknowledge you.

No.

It wasn’t at all the same.

Was it?

I found myself growing frustrated with the unintentional parallels my conscience kept providing. I hadn’t visited my friend’s home to be lectured by my own conscience, and I refused to feel guilt when I’d done nothing wrong. If the human female, Delle, was upset, that was her weakness, not my fault.

Was it not?

Nevertheless, I found myself listening carefully until I finally heard movement, the opening and shutting of drawers and cabinets. Then footsteps. She came around the corner, her arms loaded with blankets and a pillow. I noticed she avoided my gaze as she scurried past me, dumping the pile unceremoniously on the couch.

“Here ya go. Do you know how to make a bed?”

I couldn’t discern if she meant the question seriously or as an insult.

“I have lived alone since arriving on Earth,” I replied. “Yes, I know how to make a bed. And how to cook. And clean. And launder my own clothing. I have no servants, Delle.”

I could have had servants, perhaps, had I remained at home as my father’s lackey, living as his servant in his shadows, but I hadn’t wanted that life then and I didn’t want it now.

I said none of this to her. She straightened and turned to face me.

“Good for you,” she remarked. Again, I couldn’t tell in what spirit her words were intended, for she followed them up with, “I’m going to bed, then. If you get hungry, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Good night.”

She was gone before I could reply, leaving me alone in my friend’s living room with a pile of bedding on the couch. I shook my head over the strange series of coincidences that had led me to this moment, but chose not to delve too deeply into it. Within a few minutes, I had created a place to sleep. I lay down, sighed out a breath, and attempted to get comfortable. My mind wouldn’t stop sprinting, wouldn’t stop replaying the entire evening, from the minute I’d first entered my friend’s home and seen his sister-in-law to now, wondering if she was already asleep or lying there wakeful, like me. Picturing her in her bed did nothing to relax me. I shouldn’t have been able to summon mental images of her as easily as I did, but I was having a hard time not imagining her lying in a bed, and me lying there next to her.

Why was that so easy to imagine?

The mere thought made my body ache.

You’ve gone too long without a female.

This was true, but it didn’t explain my attraction to this particular human female. Probably it was that backside, round and full and inviting.

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