Page 23 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

I lower my hand just enough to glare at him, careful to keep my eyes fixed firmly on his face. “No, but let me know next time you decide to get naked.”

He shrugs. “You’re free to look away.”

“Iamlooking away!” I snap. But I’m not.

He grunts. “Humans,” he mutters, shaking his head as he turns back to the stream.

I huff out a breath. My cheeks are still burning. I force my gaze downward to my boots, pretending they’re the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen in my life.

The sloshing of water fills the air, mingling with the hum of the jungle. It should be soothing, but instead, it heightens my awareness of him. Of the fact that a naked warrior is just a few feet away. I grit my teeth and try to block out the thought.

I glance at Dania for a distraction, but she’s contentedly grazing nearby as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. Of courseshe’sunfazed. She’s just an animal, blissfully oblivious to my discomfort.

I shouldn’t look, but my eyes have other ideas. Vrok’s back is to me again as he scrubs at a spot on his shoulder, the muscles in his back flexing with each movement. My eyes drop lower of their own accord, trailing over his exposed skin.

Heat creeps up my neck, and my core clenches in a way that I stubbornly refuse to examine. Before I can tear my gaze away, he shifts, turning slightly to cup water in his hands. He splashes it over his chest, the droplets catching the light as they trail down his skin. The angle gives me a clear view of his side profile silhouetted in the glow from the jungle. Sharp jaw, high cheekbone, and that impossibly broad, ridged chest leading straight down to?—

I snap my gaze away so fast my neck twinges.

“So, how much further do we have to go?” I blurt out, my voice coming out high and breathless.

Vrok pauses, and I risk a glance at him. He’s turned his head slightly, his silver eyes flicking to mine with an unreadable expression.

“Before we get to where Lily is,” I add quickly, locking my eyes on his face and not letting them stray a single inch downward. Not even a millimeter.

He straightens slowly, water cascading in shimmering rivulets down his body, catching in the ridges and grooves of his skin. The stream laps at his knees as he moves toward the bank.

“We’ll reach the anurois’ nesting grounds tomorrow if we don’t encounter any more trouble.”

I nod, swallowing hard as I force my attention to his words and not the way water droplets cling to his skin.

“Good. I’d like to see her again sooner rather than later,” I manage, folding my arms across my chest in an attempt to compose myself.

Vrok’s sharp gaze lingers on me as if I’m some mystery he’s trying to solve. It sends a ripple of unease through me, but not the bad kind. More like the kind that pulls at something deep inside me.

Then he looks away, crouching to pick up the strip of cloth he left near the water’s edge. He wraps the loincloth around his waist before picking up the various weapons he left on the bank and donning them with practiced ease.

When he straightens, he strides toward me, closing the distance with that same deliberate confidence he exudes in everything. Like a predator on the prowl. My pulse quickens, and my fingers twist in the fabric of my dress when he stops a few steps away to rifle through his satchel before pulling out a waterskin and a bag of trail rations.

“You need to eat,” he says before extending the bag of trail rations toward me.

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. Gone is the clipped edge from earlier. Instead, his voice is softer, almost gentle, as he eyes me.

“I’m fine,” I start, but my stomach betrays me with a growl that seems to echo around us.

His brow ridge rises, and his lips flatten with irritation. “You won’t help your cousin if you collapse from hunger.”

I take the offered bag with a muttered thanks, peeling it open to find the trail rations the girls and I have nicknamed trail mix. Really, it’s a mixture of dried dicro strips, seeds, and dried bilb berries. The sweet purple berries grow nearly everywhere on Laedirissae and surprisingly taste like a mix of cherries and vanilla.

Vrok takes a seat on a nearby rock and uncorks the waterskin, taking a long drink before passing it to me without a word.

We settle into an easy rhythm, passing the rations and waterskin back and forth. The silence between us isn’t exactly comfortable, but it isn’t tense either. Like we’re both waiting to see who blinks first.

I nibble on a handful of berries, chewing slowly, but my gaze drifts back to him.

He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, and his silver eyes are scanning the jungle. Even at rest, he’s so alert it makes my shoulders tense just watching him. And I wonder for the umpteenth time if he ever relaxes. Or hell, even smiles.

Every so often, his gaze flicks to me before skittering back to the trees. It’s as if he’s studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. When he finally speaks, his voice is a deep, gravelly rumble that breaks through the silence that has fallen over us.

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