Page 9 of Alien's Heart
She had a hand pressed to her chest. Her eyes held a cold, calculating look. Ruthless.
Intriguing.
She appeared to be mentally running a risk analysis. Nox considered himself delightful company, but he was dangerous company. He knew she would find him lacking. Too great a risk for too little reward.
Still, he enjoyed watching her mind work. This shrewd, scheming female was infinitely more interesting than the exhausted farmer from the agency’s dossier.
Her head gave the tiniest of shakes.
There it was, the obvious conclusion.
Nox released the male. He dropped to the floor, landing on his tail. He scrambled away, shouting threats that he could not possibly deliver.
“You do not want me here. I’ll leave you be,” Nox said.
“Wait,” she said. “Could I interest you in a job?”
Ruth
This was obviously a bad idea, but a small part of her questioned that assumption. A few minutes ago, she was ready to form a partnership with a stranger sent by the matchmaker. Did it matter which stranger showed up?
“What sort of job did you have in mind? Got fields to plow, widow?” He lightly touched her shoulder, his tail swaying behind him from side to side.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, that simple touch kept her in place. It could have something to do with his tawny eyes bearing down on her, burning with…well, she couldn’t say what he felt but whatever it was, it inspired longing in her. He was the first person to touch her in ages, and Ruth wanted more.
Such a bad idea.The man was a walking red flag.
Ruth cleared her throat. “First, that joke is unoriginal. Second, you let him go before he could apologize.”
A grin spread across Not-Distinction’s face. Unlike the earlier, slimy grin, this one felt real and deeply amused. “You are surprisingly ruthless, Dr. Ruth Washington.”
She softened when he said her name with her title, which was ridiculous. She never insisted that people call her doctor. When she had worked in an academic setting and a student called her doctor, she kept looking for the real professor. She said, “Well, he spat. It’s unhygienic.”
“Unforgivable. Is that the job? Enforcing hygiene standards?”
The dry delivery and subtle humor put Ruth at ease. “Let me buy you a drink and I’ll explain what I’m looking for.”
The transportation hub had a few vendor stands selling drinks and food for hungry travelers. She ordered two kavas from a stall and found an out-of-the-way bench. Not-Distinction accepted the hot beverage and drank it black while she added an alarming amount of sugar to hers.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He hesitated briefly, then said, “Nox.”
“Nox what?”
“Just Nox.”
“Right. That doesn’t sound dodgy. You’re not going to murder me, are you?” she asked.
His ears twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Do not project your human naming conventions on me. A singular name is acceptable.”
“You did not answer the question,” she said.
“Murder is not my intention.”
“You have to tell me if you’re planning to murder me.”
“I do not believe that is the protocol for planning a murder.” He took a mouthful of the kava, humming with pleasure at the taste. “I have yet to murder anyone and do not plan to start.”
