Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1 (3 page)

But he didn’t kiss her.

Instead he gently rubbed his nose up one side of hers, tilted his face then rubbed down the other side, all the while making that soft, rumbly purr that sent heat curling through her belly.

He drew back to look at her, his blue eyes darkened with desire. She tried to reach for him and found her wrist still restrained.

She blinked, struggling to think against the insistent throbbing at her center. 

Right. Escape from the alien.

“Maybe,” she began faintly, “you could take the cuff off now?”

He leaned forward, rumbling again, and this time he nuzzled her neck.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, letting her head fall back as his mouth brushed over her skin and that rumbling went right through her to vibrate her clit.

He was either
very
clean-shaven or didn’t grow hair on his face because he didn’t have any stubble at all. The softness of his hair brushed her cheek and jaw as he bent against her and before she knew it her free hand was on his shoulder, urging him closer. The muscle under her palm was rock solid, his body fever hot as if his body temperature were naturally much higher than hers.

His large hand went to the curve of her waist to pull her agains
t him. He brushed her nose lightly up one side and down the other then, his eyes half-closed, lowered his head to nuzzle, his nose pressed to her skin as he breathed in and a fine tremble ran through his body. His hand came up to her breast and the feel of those long fingers brushing her nipple made her breath catch.

The reaction drew his attention and he pulled away to focus his fevered gaze there, the rumble coming from deeper in his broad chest. He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her peak, watching her response. Jenna’s mouth parted in a groan at the sensation and when he bent to nuzzle her again she tried to catch his mouth in a kiss.

He jerked back and his rumbling stopped instantly.

His shocked stare at her parted lips made her face go hot and she shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clicked.

His ridged brow creased and he moved further away to regard her with puzzled, alien eyes.

Jenna trembled, shaken by how fast and powerfully he’d roused her. If he hadn’t stopped when he did she would have been pulling him down on top of her.

He studied her for a moment and then reached back into the bag and took out the meat stuff again. He broke off another piece and offered it to her.

Jenna turned her face away. “Uh, no, thanks. I’m good.”

He pushed it at her and growled.

“No, really,” she said, trying to evade the morsel that he held to her mouth. “I don’t want any more.”

He gave a frustrated snarl, trying feed her.

“Goddamn it!
I’m not hungry!”

“
Grrrreeee
,” he growled.

She blinked.
Did he just talk?

His gaze held hers, his luminescent blue eyes intent as if he were waiting for something.

Or waiting for her to
do
something.

Jenna wet her lips. “Hungry.”

He watched her mouth as she formed the word then growled, “
Huunnngggreeee
.”

“Right.
Not
hungry.”

“
Gnootteeehuunngreee
.”

She searched his face then glanced at the cuff around her wrist. She held his gaze and pulled on it. “Let me go.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes searching her face.

“Let me go, okay?”

He tilted his head. “
Gooookaaayyy?
”

She nodded and pulled on the cuff again. “Let me go. Please?”

With a glance at the restraint, he resealed the package and tucked it back into the pack. He leaned in close, his hand reaching around her, and in the next instant the cuff released. Jenna immediately pulled free to rub her wrist with her other hand. Her wrist didn’t hurt but the air against her flesh felt odd, as if her skin had been wrapped in a bandage too long or something.

As he slipped the cuffs into his pack he caught sight of her rubbing at her skin and frowned. He took her hand in both of his, examining her wrist. Just his light touch as he turned her hand this way and that, his thumbs probing the bones and tendons of her wrist,
had her breath quickening.

Jenna eased her hand out of his grip and scooted back. He didn’t grab at her or roar or anything so after a moment she risked moving further across the bed.

As soon as she got to the other side she stood, fingering her bird charm necklace, the wood floor freezing cold under her bare feet. The alien watched but he didn’t look angry or threatening and those wicked fangs of his didn’t make an appearance either.

She didn’t see her socks but spied her sheepskin boots near the closet door. She kept her eyes on the alien and eased over that way. Balancing on one foot then the other, she pulled her boots on.

That action got him to his feet; his body angled toward her but he didn’t block the door or rush her. He just stood there, watching her with his brilliant eyes.

Jenna took drew a slow, steadying breath.
Okay, now that we’re all friendly like, let’s see how far I can take this. Maybe I can just walk right the hell out of here.

Her mouth dry and anticipating an attack any second, Jenna glanced toward the bedroom door and took a shaky step forward.

The alien’s fangs flashed and he whirled that way, quivering tension clear in every muscle of his body. His arm came up and it was so clear a signal for her to hold position that, startled, she stopped where she was. He crept forward with his catlike movements to the doorway, looking this way and that. He sniffed at the air, his hand on the weapon at his hip.

After a few moments his stance eased and he looked back at her quizzically.

It took her a second to figure it out.

He thinks there’s something in the cabin scaring me.

She swallowed hard.
Does he really not know it’s him?

She grabbed her jacket off the bedroom chair as she went by and pulled it on. With slow—hopefully nonthreatening—movements she went past him into the living room and he followed her. Between the light from the bedroom and the fire she could see fine. But she knew this place so well she could have moved around in pitch-blackness.

What she
couldn’t
do was remember where she’d left her fucking car keys.

She patted the pockets of her jacket just to be sure but of course they weren’t there. The alien eyed her but he didn’t seem to consider what she was doing a threat. Her phone was still out in the woods somewhere, but between the dark and the snow she was never going to find it tonight to call for help. Even if she managed to get past him and outdoors, he moved like quicksilver. She’d never outrun him. 

And that meant her only chance was to make it to the SUV. 

Her bag was on the coffee table. He seemed fascinated by her every move as she headed to the table and picked up her purse. She kept her eyes on him as she dug her hand through her bag but he simply watched as she rifled around. She was getting ready to dump the contents out on the table when a flash of metal caught her eye.

Her car keys were right there.

On his gun belt.

Swallowing hard, she put her bag down and took a step toward him.

“Hey.” She forced a smile and gestured at his belt. “Think maybe I could get my keys back?”

He blinked. Then in a flash of almost-human squared off white teeth and
definitely
-not-human fangs he smiled back.

His grin was charming, sexy, and utterly terrifying.

Caught between the endearment of it and stomach-twisting fear, Jenna’s smile froze.

His grin faded and he gave a soft, inquisitive growl.

She tried to focus on taking those slow, even breaths she’d learned in yoga class as she moved closer.

It wasn’t helping much.

“My keys?” she asked, her voice high-pitched with fear, near enough now she felt the warmth radiating off his body. She stretched her hand out, slowly reaching for his gun belt. “I’m just going to take my keys back, okay?”

You stunned me or something and you cuffed me but maybe you weren’t trying to hurt me. Maybe you won’t now.

She hooked her finger through the key ring and raised her eyes to meet his glowing gaze.

I really, really hope you won’t—

With a sudden flash of fangs, the alien gave an ear-splitting roar.

Three

Jenna jumped back with a petrified squeak.

“Okay,” she managed after a few moments when he didn’t tear her head off, her whole body quaking. “Okay, not so much into giving back the keys right now.”

The alien’s black brows came together but he looked more surprised and puzzled than angry. He leaned down, searching her eyes, then he made a soft, soothing growl that almost made her forget she was terrified of him.

She swallowed hard.
Well, now what the hell do I do?

Heavy flakes pattered against the windowpanes. It was a January night in the Smoky Mountains and her cell was somewhere out there in the snow. Even if she managed to elude a creature who moved like lightning, even if she made it outdoors, she would be trading a warm, stocked cabin with an alien who didn’t seem inclined to hurt her—as long as she didn’t touch her keys apparently—for the virtual guarantee of getting lost in the dark and freezing to death outside.

And that left her with two choices: get the car keys sometime tonight or wait for daylight to make a run for it.

Either way, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.

“All righty, then,” she muttered, pushing her hair behind her ears. “Don’t know about you but I missed supper.”

She also really,
really
needed to pee.

Pulling off the down jacket, she headed for the coat tree by the front door.  He followed, probably intending to block her escape if she’d had a mind for it as she hung her coat on one of the hooks.

She flipped the living room lights’ switch and his startled glance took in the space, then came back to rest on her.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, heading in that direction.

He was immediately at her heels. She turned in the bathroom doorway and held her hand up to stop him.

“I’ll be right out,” she promised, still holding her hand up to him in the “stay” position, but he caught the door with the palm of his hand before she could close it. She pushed a little harder. Then harder still, digging her heels into the bathroom’s wood floor.

It was like trying to move a boulder with a toothpick.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” she cried. “Will you let me pee already?”

Startled by her outburst, he let go and she slammed the door in his face then threw the lock. She had her jeans down and her butt on the seat in an instant. She rubbed her forehead against the headache coming on and closed her eyes in relief as she let her stream go.

The bathroom door burst open with enough force to bounce back off the wall behind it and Jenna let out a startled scream, her knees clutching together, bending over herself protectively.

The door’s busted lock swung back and forth against the doorjamb as he took in her position with sharp, alien eyes.

Then he sniffed.

Understanding lit his face and he gave what sounded suspiciously like a growled chuckle. Still knock-kneed and bent over to cover herself, Jenna narrowed her gaze at him.

“Do you mind?” she gritted out.

He didn’t appear to mind at all and ducking his head through the doorway walked right into the wood-paneled bathroom, examining the space with interest.

“Damn it, get
out
!” Jenna gave as stern a point as she could while sitting on the toilet with her jeans and panties around her calves. “I’m not kidding!
Out!
”

For certain he
understood she wanted him gone. He just wasn’t interested in going.

Jenna glared but clearly it was pee with him here or nothing.

“I don’t believe this,” she mumbled and, dropping her burning face in her hand, chose the former.

She was too embarrassed to meet his eye as she grabbed a handful of toilet paper. She yanked her panties and jeans up quick, not missing how he tilted his head, trying to get a look at her.  

She flushed the toilet and, angry enough now not to be afraid, shoved past him to the sink. He watched that too, standing right behind her to look over her shoulder as she turned the handles, cutting on the water to wash her hands.

Unexpectedly his arms went around her, his big body warm against her back. He put his hands under the faucet with hers, spreading his fingers in the water.

Jenna hesitated, clutching the bar of honeysuckle soap. She glanced at him in the reflection as he took the soap from her, surprise showing on his face at the slipperiness of it. He rubbed it between his hands as she’d done, inhaling the scent, looking delighted at the resulting bubbles.

He met her gaze briefly in the mirror then put the soap down and caught her hands between his large, warm ones. Taking his time, his expression intent as if it were the most serious of things, he gently washed one of her hands then the other. He rinsed her hands with that same absorbed focus, the careful handling and utter tenderness of it making her throat tighten.

In her whole life no man had ever touched her like this—as if she were the most precious thing in the world and he was overwhelmed at simply being allowed to.

“Thank you,” she murmured thickly, surprised to find she had to blink tears away.

She grabbed the towel hung next to the sink and dried her hands. Her cheeks warmed under that vivid alien gaze as she dried both of his too.

He was standing very close, searching her face, looking as if he were trying to memorize every curve and line.

Jenna ventured a shy smile and with a glimmer of fangs he smiled back, not as broadly this time, like he was afraid of frightening her with his grin as he had before.

God, he smells amazing.

“Okay,” she muttered, twisting around to hang the towel up. “Maybe need to refocus here.”

When she turned back he was still regarding her with the same intent interest. It was so tempting to grab that big hand of his, pull him back into her bedroom, and find out just what she needed to do to get him rumbling again . . .

“I’m hungry,” she blurted. “What about you? You hungry?”

He didn’t answer, of course, and he didn’t move either. She had to shimmy past him to leave and he felt like solid warm muscle against her. He followed her into the kitchen, ducking his head through the doorway, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor in those boots of his. She hadn’t even started packing in here, intending to do it last. The fridge and cabinets were still full.

She opened the fridge, leaning against the side of the door as she scanned the contents.

What do you serve a seven-foot-tall alien for dinner?

“Whatever the hell he wants,” she said under her breath.

Well, he’d fed her meat earlier so obviously he ate that.

“How about breakfast for dinner?” she asked, not expecting an answer, and grabbed a package of bacon and the carton of eggs from the fridge. “I make a great cheese omelet.”

Jenna pulled the rest of the ingredients and started the cast iron pan heating for the bacon. She’d cook that first, then do the omelets in the bacon grease, country-style.  She got the bread loaded into the toaster so she could drop them when the omelets were almost done. 

As soon as she started the bacon frying the alien’s sniffer went crazy.

He stood right beside her, his electric blue eyes dancing between her and the sizzling bacon with such hopeful eagerness that Jenna couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry,” she assured as she turned the strips. “I’m making plenty for both of us.”

When the bacon was crisp she put the slices on paper towels to absorb the extra grease. As soon as it was cool enough to handle she gave him a slice.

He crushed the strip into his mouth in one bite, already reaching for the next. With four bites he finished off all the bacon she’d cooked.

“Wow,” she managed. “I guess it’s a good thing I have another whole package.”

Of the next twelve slices of bacon she fried up she managed to snag only one but the look on his face was such pure bliss it was hard to complain.

“I guess they don’t have cholesterol on your planet,” she said, watching him lick the bacon grease from his fingers, rumbling in satisfaction.

At his size, he dwarfed the kitchen’s battered old table and chairs and the fork looked almost comically small in his hand. He had some trouble copying how she cut her food with the edge of the fork so she grabbed a knife and cut his omelet into more manageable, bite-sized pieces for him. He wolfed down everything she’d given him with appreciative rumbles and she wound up giving him a third of her food to polish off as well.

Toast with butter and strawberry jam slathered on top brought him to a whole new level of happiness. Orange juice became a quick favorite too and he decimated half the Tropicana jug, pouring glass after glass for himself.

When he’d finished everything he sat back, looking at her with warm eyes.

“You know what?” Jenna gave him a quick smile. “I have an idea.”

Her grandfather hadn’t had much appetite in his last days and she hadn’t had the heart for baking since, but she could still make Pap’s favorite double-fudge chocolate chip brownies in her sleep.  She pulled the ingredients and had the
mise en place
put together in minutes. The alien watched as she cracked eggs and measured cocoa and sugar. He stood at her side as she mixed, watching as she smoothed the batter into the pan.

She slid the pan into the oven and he stuck his hand inside before she could shut the door.

“Oh, careful,” she cried, grabbing his wrist to pull his hand out. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

He watched her mouth as she spoke like he was trying to catch her words and gave a soft huff when she stopped.

The alien busied himself exploring the kitchen as she washed up. He opened and closed drawers, touching everything he could get his hands on, holding this or that up to the light to get a better look.

Glancing at him as she worked, she wondered if his vision was different than hers. Certainly he seemed to have a much better sense of smell; his eyes were alight with interest and he was sniffing at the oven long before she could smell the brownies at all.  The timer went off just as she was finished wiping up the counter and he caught her wrist as she opened the oven door to take the pan out.

“It’s okay,” she assured, showing him she was going to use an oven mitt to protect her hand.

He hesitated then relaxed his grip, trailing his fingers along her palm as she pulled her hand away.

He inhaled deeply as she took the brownies out.

“We have to let them cool,” she warned, waving him back. Jenna wasn’t sure why she kept talking. It wasn’t like he could understand her. It just made her feel more comfortable around him.

I shouldn’t be comfortable. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. He shot me! He handcuffed me to the bed. He’s a fucking alien, for God’s sake!

But she
was
enjoying this. Enjoying watching his face light up with each new taste, seeing his intent interest in every little thing she did, touching and examining things with the openhearted curiosity of a child.

“I gotta throw another log on the fire,” she muttered, pushing past him into the living room.