Page 14 of Tamed By the Alien Warlord
“Ican’t believe I’m falling for a pirate,” I mutter to my reflection.
The mirror on the dressing module is smeared with someone else’s old blood, but it reflects enough of me to see the problem. The Companion outfit barely covers anything. I look like a space courtesan from a cheap holodrama, all lace trim and cleavage. My thighs are bare. My arms are bare. Even my neck looks scandalous—and the Reaper collar clashes spectacularly with the jeweled necklace they want me to wear.
“What would Professor Seldin say?” I add, adjusting my top for the fifth time. “Probably, ‘At least get a good quote before he rips your shirt off.’”
Behind me, Lanz growls.
“You’ll wear something else.”
“No,” I counter, not turning. “This is what Companions wear.”
He steps into the doorway, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe.
“You’re not going into Earth First’s fortress looking like a pleasure pet.”
“Oh, but that’s the whole point, Captain Gritjaw,” I say, finally spinning to face him. “Dr. Nakamura ordered aCompanion bride. Not a bodyguard. Not a spy. A soft-voiced, big-eyed distraction in six-inch heels.”
He stalks toward me, hands clenching. “He’ll touch you.”
“I’ll slap him.”
“He’ll expect things.”
“Then he’ll be disappointed.”
His eyes burn molten. “You’re mine.”
“Temporarily leased,” I shoot back, tilting my chin. “And this is the price for your information. If I find Jasmine, we both win.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Then strike the match, big guy.”
That stops him.
Just for a second.
Then he moves.
His hand slams against the wall beside my head, his towering form caging me in. The air crackles between us, thick and sparking. My collar pulses, the leash clipped to it still dangling from our earlier mission, half-forgotten until now. My heart beats like a war drum.
But I don’t run.
Because part of mewantshim to lose this argument.
Wants him to forget all the mission plans and rules and take what he’s been holding back for too damn long.
“You’re not scared,” he says, voice dark silk threaded with threat.
“I am,” I whisper. “But not of Nakamura.”
His pupils dilate, swallowing the molten gold of his eyes. The growl he gives isn’t human. It’sReaper. And it vibrates straight through my bones.
He grabs my hips, claws digging in just enough to make me gasp.
And then we’re kissing.
Stars above, it’s like getting hit by a meteor made of sin. His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and brutal, fangs teasing the edges of danger. His tongue is wicked, claiming me, tasting the defiance right out of my mouth. He kisses like he wants to erase every other kiss I’ve ever had.
