it with great delicacy, just as he had treated her the previous night. The memory washed over her again, and she felt her body respond, but she refused to acknowledge the sensation.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked belatedly.
“What is that?”
“This is shatam. It is made from the fruit of the jimsa tree.”
Somehow she suspected that it was more than just fruit juice, but what the hell. After everything she had been through, she deserved a drink.
“Sure. I’ll try it.”
He poured a small quantity of the bright purple liquid into another glass and brought it to her. She took a cautious sip. Mmm. Definitely alcoholic, but it had a pleasant fruity aftertaste that counteracted the bite of the alcohol.
“This is very good.”
“I am quite fond of it as well.” He frowned and sat down beside her with his own glass. “You will not be able to experience it on Hothrest.”
“You don’t have jimsa trees?”
“They do not grow in our climate, and Hothians choose not to import any products from other worlds.”
“Why not?”
“We—they—have a great respect for our history and our customs. They have chosen to avoid any outside influence. Except for technology,” he added dryly. “Our monitoring systems and weaponry are completely up-to-date.”
“Didn’t you say that hand-to-hand combat was the only true combat?” She took another sip of her drink, feeling a warm glow stealing through her veins.
“Are you using my own words against me?” He grinned at her, and despite the rather intimidating display of fangs, it was surprisingly attractive.
“Just pointing out the flaw in your argument.”
“And you are quite right. Neither technology nor off-world weapons are permitted within the caves that are our ancestral homes.” The smile left his face as he stared off into the distance. “I made the mistake of trying to encourage them to have more interaction with the rest of the Empire.”
“Why was that a mistake?”
“Because someone died.”
Despite the abrupt answer, she could hear the pain in his voice. Her normal caution tempered by the alcohol, she leaned over to put her hand on his, but the drink seemed to have affected her coordination as well as her compassion, and she tumbled forward into his arms.
He caught her and settled her into his lap. She briefly considered protesting, but his chest was firm and silky beneath her cheek, and the big arms around her felt protective rather than confining. With a faint sigh, she snuggled closer, taking comfort in the musky scent that she already associated with him. She was vaguely aware that his cock stiffened beneath her and that her own body started to respond, but she was too sleepy to worry about either his arousal or her own. Her fingers tightened in his fur as she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Nine
Baralt looked down at the small female asleep in his arms and was once again filled with a mixture of lust and unexpected contentment. The thin cloth of his kiltar did little to conceal her lush curves—curves he remembered only too well. His kotra pressed uncomfortably against his sheath, but he would not take advantage of her trust. She felt so right nestled against him.
This is only temporary, he reminded himself. He would get her off the planet and safely to Hothrest. Once they knew that Relkhei was not actively pursuing her, she would be free to make other plans. The thought made his chest ache.
After leaving Hothrest, he had assumed he would never find a mate. Even on Hothrest, his prospects had been doubtful. Their females were few, and he had been too rash and too outspoken. The Elders of his tribe kept their precious daughters away from him. At the time, he had not considered it a loss, and he had accepted that he would spend his life alone. For the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have someone in his life. He already knew he would miss this female when she was gone.
He would have to decide what his future path would be as well. He didn’t anticipate remaining on Hothrest—that ice bridge had collapsed long ago. Neither did he wish to return to fighting, but what else was he good for?
The thought of fighting reminded him that he needed to make arrangements to complete his contracted number of matches over the coming week. Ignoring his unusual melancholy at the thought of the future, he carried his female into the bedroom and tucked her beneath the covers. She murmured something as he put her down,