It takes the lady-like crashing of her spaceship for stubborn Molly to find love.
Attacked and forced to crash on a barbarian planet, Molly must come to terms with never leaving this world and allowing the chieftain to have his way with her, all whi...
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"Ready?" he asked, sliding his fingers down her back to grip her hips as he lifted her to her feet. He wished he could keep her close to him, that her pursuers would arrive soon. He wanted her claimed, he wanted her as his mate and this waiting didn't ease the tension between his shoulders.
Molly led him along the passages that would take them to the destination she had in mind. The strange shape of the tunnel was wide and tall enough to handle him, just. He touched the cool surface, wondering how it was made and from what type of rock. Everything about her life and her Jasmine was beyond his ability to understand.
She was a star traveler, something he couldn't fathom. Yet here she was, in front of him, full of life and more beautiful that he could express. Mother had blessed him, that is if Molly chose him.
"We need a plan." He lowered his hand when she spoke, as if she had caught him doing something he shouldn't. He had not felt like that since he was a child. "They're cunning with no respect for life." She paused before descending another ladder, meeting his gaze in the darkened passage.
What was she talking about? He blinked at her. "The Vargosh?"
"They hunt children for sport, Anzar. We must shoot to kill. They cannot be bargained with, nor captured. My thinking is this; your males distract them while we sneak in. I plug MARC in to assess their ship, communications, cargo...everything."
He touched her elbow, forcing her to breathe. "And when my males kill them, will you leave me, Molly?"
"Huh?" She frowned. "No...no, I can't. Only a Vargosh can fly their ships. Their DNA is coded into the levers, access panels, navigations systems." She smiled, brushing her fingers across his forearm as she had done that first night in the tree. "Besides, where would I go? You have my best friend pinned under a horny warrior."
Anzar's brow furrowed. Grax didn't have horns, only the warriors in the far south were known to grow horns out of their skulls. "Horny?" He stared at her upturned face before climbing down the ladder.
"Oh, yes!" She laughed. "I don't see her coming out of their tent for a while."
"Grax does not have horns, female," he growled as his booted feet hit the grated floor.
"It means aroused, sexually excited," she said with pink staining her cheeks again. She licked her lips as her gaze traveled the width of his chest. The soft look in her eyes spiked his heartrate. How she affected him with such potency, he still didn't understand.
"From inside their system, MARC can send the ship into outer space and blow it the hell up. Well, that's the hope. If not, we'll have to find a Vargosh and use his hand." She shrugged. "I just want to make sure they don't have innocent cargo. Vargosh I can kill, and not feel any remorse. Prisoners? No, I don't need that on my conscience. Doable, MARC?"
Anzar grunted, having understood half of what she had said.
"Yes, though the crucial part is the distraction. We need to start on their weapons training ASAP."
