“Would you be one of them, Hope?”
She brushed her hands briskly against her jeans. “I’m not afraid of you anymore, if that’s what you mean. And I bet—if you gave them the chance—other women wouldn’t be either. If you showed yourselves openly and gave them a chance to get to know you.”
“We cannot,” he growled. “As much as we would prefer to. Our nature as warriors is to act with integrity but for our warships to suddenly appear in orbit around your planet would destabilize your world. Politically, economically, socially . . . The repercussions to humans would be devastating.”
He was right. Panic would grip the planet, governments would either declare martial law or fall; there would be riots, violence—
“But the g’hir would get what they wanted,” she said hoarsely and crossed her arms, leaning back against the corridor wall. “You don’t care what the taken women might want. Why should you care what happens to a whole planet of humans?”
His brilliant eyes widened. “You think we do not care? That I do not? My people are not brutes; we are not monsters. We know how precious this chance is. If pairings between humans and g’hir are truly viable, then your kind are our hope, our future.”
Her face went hot. “That’s what you meant. Why you said it was perfect that my name is Hope.”
“Yes,” he rumbled. “For you are mine.”
She glanced away. “What do you mean ‘truly viable’ anyway? You said you already knew we were compatible.”
“Jenna and Ra’kur were able to matebond. She is carrying the first g’hir-human child. We believe other human females are also capable of this but we do not truly know. It is possible that she is unique in this.”
“Wait—” Hope straightened. “Jenna’s pregnant? With a half-g’hir baby?”
“Do you see?” he asked, his tone low, urgent. “That is why we must always act to safeguard your kind, no matter the cost to us. If the All Mother so blesses us, the next generation of g’hir young will be half-human.”
“Oh my God . . .” she whispered.
“That is why we cannot simply come to your world in great numbers. The location of your planet is our greatest secret. We must preserve this secrecy or we will be forced to conquer your planet quickly to protect it.”
“Conquer it to protect it? Oh, come on! That doesn’t even make any fucking—” she broke off.
R’har’s glowing eyes were grim, his jaw tight.
“Oh, yes it does,” she murmured. “If the Zerar would infect your people with a plague that killed billions of women in order to destroy you, what would they do to the species that could save the g’hir? If the Zerar could bring horrors like that to your people when you’re so much more advanced than we are, we wouldn’t have a chance in hell. But reproducing with humans isn’t saving your species,” she pointed out. “It’s making a new one.”
“No, it is not. The g’hir are a hybrid species.”
“A hybrid species?” Hope’s brow creased. “What does that mean?”
“My kind—all of the g’hir—carry human DNA.”
“Human—?” She shook her head. “How is that possible?”
“The only explanation is that at some point, long ago, our species—g’hir and human—successfully interbred.”
“Wait, so we aren’t the first—I mean, Jenna isn’t? But if all g’hir carry human DNA it would have happened tens of thousands of years ago! Somehow a human and a g’hir—” Hope ran her hands through her hair. “But there wasn’t the Scourge back then. Why would they . . .?”
“Perhaps my ancestors felt our kind lacked sufficient stubbornness.”
“But if—” She broke off as he gave a g’hir’s huffing chuckle. “Oh, funny, R’har. I mean really, just hilarious. So you don’t have human DNA?”
He shrugged, still grinning. “All g’hir have human DNA, to varying degrees. But clearly I do not have enough to master your humor.”
“Do you know if you personally do or not?”
His smile faded.
“Oh, hell, what am I thinking?” She shook her head. “Of course you do! You said the competition was fierce, that they chose you because you fought well but also”—she indicated the spaceship around them—“because you know this vessel and can fix it if you needed to. But the other reason, maybe the real reason, they chose you is because you have more human DNA than the average g’hir.” Hope’s throat tightened. “And that means you’re more likely to make a half-human baby, right?”
“I do wish you to bear my young,” he rumbled quietly. “I long for our children as I longed to find you—a mate to protect, a mate to share my life with . . .” His glowing eyes searched her face, his expression guarded. “Are you angry?”
“Disappointed, really. I mean here I thought you wanted me as your own personal sex slave.” Hope gave a shrug. “So it’s kind of a letdown to know you just want me as breeding stock.”
“You are not angry, my Hope.” His brow furrowed and his hand came up to cup her cheek. “You are hurt.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, stepping back out of his caress. “None of this matters to me anyway. And I’m not ‘your Hope.’ You’re taking me home, remember?”
He went very still. “I have not forgotten my promise to you.”
“Good. ’Cause I’m not gonna forget it either, R’har.”
Seven
Water was too precious on a spaceship to be used for washing, R’har explained as he showed her what served as the ship’s bathing facilities: a “shower” that used a sonic frequency to clean skin and hair. After he’d left her in privacy, Hope stripped down and approached the thing with some trepidation. She tensed as she engaged the cleanse cycle as he’d showed her, praying all those hypersonic waves wouldn’t have any unexpected—and unpleasant—effects on human-style cavity fillings.
She’s always loved hot showers and wasn’t sure she was going to like getting “blasted” clean but the sonic proved remarkably relaxing. Her shoulders relaxed as warm light poured over her body, the sonic shower bathing the room in soothing red and orange tones as it cleaned her. The waves that moved over her body massaged her tired muscles and left her skin tingly clean when the cycle ended.
She had nothing with her except the jeans, T-shirt, sweater, and hiking boots she’d been wearing when R’har kidnapped her—not even her bag. While showing her the bathroom closets, R’har explained that his clan, the Yir, had filled them with g’hir style clothing intended to please his new mate.
As he opened cabinet after cabinet of clothing for her inspection it brought home to Hope that there was a whole family, a whole clan, back on Hir right now eagerly anticipating her arrival. And, from the lengths the Yir clan had gone to just clothing-wise, they had some high hopes for their new clansister.
If they even like me . . .
Hope firmly pushed aside both the thought and the butterflies in her stomach. It didn’t matter what this alien tribe thought, if they liked her or not, if they wanted her there or not. She wasn’t staying.
But since his clan obviously had no idea who he’d be bringing back, the dresses—fine, elaborately embroidered things—came in different sizes and the majority of the designs would be suitable to different body types well. Among the selections there were also a few long tunics, with close-fit trousers meant to be worn beneath. Hope, at five-eleven, discovered that like the g’hir males, g’hir women must be tall since all this clothing would be a bit long on her.
Browsing through the selections after her shower, Hope was relieved to find a number of nightgowns included. She picked the least sexy one.
Which wasn’t saying much, since all these had probably been chosen with the g’hir idea of a honeymoon in mind. The fabric was silky, the color a pale blue and the length being too long meant it also plunged too deeply at the bodice. Otherwise it fit fairly well.
The sonic shower left her hair clean and already dry. Checking the mirror, Hope was surprised to discover that,
unlike the usual frizzies she was left with after washing her hair, the sonic shower had coaxed her fiery curls into pretty ringlets.
Despite her two “naps” earlier her eyelids were feeling heavy and Hope yawned as she headed into the bedroom.
She stopped short, her fatigue gone in an instant.
R’har stood by the bed, still in his leather warrior’s clothing. He looked up when she came in and his eyes widened a bit when he saw her. His glance quickly went over her, taking in her hair, the plunging nightgown, and the abundance of lightly freckled skin she was now showing.
“Hi. I didn’t expect—” Her cheeks warm, Hope’s hand automatically went to smooth her hair. She caught herself mid-movement, remembering that for once her hair didn’t need taming. “You surprised me.”
“You are . . .” He cleared his throat. “Did you find everything you needed?”
“Yeah. I even figured out the toothbrush. I think it’s intended for fangs so my teeth feel extra clean.”
“Good,” he said, his glance flickering over her again.
Clearly he was too distracted to realize his answer didn’t really fit what she’d said at all and she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a giggle.
He also didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands or where to look or what to say.
Hope wasn’t a beauty, never had been. Too tall, red-haired, and freckled, she had only been able to stake a claim to “cute” until she’d hit eleven and then somehow managed to stumble right into “awkward” seemingly overnight.
She was the nice one, the smart one, the reliable one. Not the heartbreaker or the pretty one but when she took a step toward R’har she couldn’t help but notice that his breath sped up.
And then her ring caught the light, bringing back all the hurt and heartache and that confidence wisped away like mist under strong sunlight.
Her step faltered. “We should probably get some sleep.”
“The ship has cycled to night settings,” he agreed. “We have seven hours before the day cycle begins.”
“Oh.” Hope shifted her weight. “Humans sleep for around eight hours,” she said, just to fill the awkward silence. “I sleep a little more than that usually. I guess g’hir sleep less?”
“The setting allows the ship to conserve power. You may sleep longer, if you wish. But yes, I—most g’hir—usually sleep about seven hours.”
“Well, I’m a fairly heavy sleeper,” she said with a wave. “So you sure don’t need to worry about waking me if you want to start work early.”
He gave a human-style nod and then she remembered how back at the cabin he’d been quiet enough that he hadn’t woken her at all, even standing at her bedside.
He took a step toward her. “The g’hir have marriage but we do not have ‘engagement’—at least not in the way humans seem to use the word.” He indicated her ring. “That jewel clearly has great meaning but I do not understand its purpose in human bonding rituals.”
“Oh, uh . . .” she stammered, very aware of him, of how little space lay between them now, the warm, luscious cinnamon scent of him so inviting she found herself instinctively leaning in even closer. “Well, ‘engagement’ really just means a promise to marry.” She held her hand out to show him. “A man gives a woman a ring, like this one, to show he’s serious about going through with it. It also lets everyone know that she’s taken.”
“Is there a ritual for the ring’s removal?” He glanced at the diamond. “Now that the marriage will not occur?”
Her throat tightened. “Yeah, with all the wedding traditions and trends and crap, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? You know, I have a stack of books at home on weddings—Emily Post, Miss Manners, Martha Stewart, you name it. I mean I read everything so this wedding, this marriage, would be perfect. And I—” Hope found herself twisting the ring on her finger. “I just skipped—maybe just ignored really— everything about what to do if the wedding gets called off. Who’s supposed to call the caterer, tell the guests . . . me, I guess, but I—I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do with the fucking ring. I mean, he ended it, so do I give it back or keep it? Offer to buy it or what? Every time I look at this thing I think of everything I’ll never . . .” She swallowed hard. “I’ll never have, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.” She gave a choked laugh. “If this were a country song, I would have already thrown it into a muddy river or my dog would have swallowed it or something but I can’t even get myself to take the damned thing off.”
“Even though the male who gifted this to you has broken his promise to marry?” R’har’s glowing eyes met hers. “And bonded with another female?”
Hope looked down at ring, her vision blurring with tears as the diamond sparkled on, optimistic as ever.
“Yeah,” she said thickly. “God, I have lousy taste in men. I choose jerks. Liars. Cheaters. The Hope MacGowan curse.”
“You need fear no longer.” R’har’s glowing eyes met hers. “For it was I who chose you.”
Hope gave a short, humorless laugh. “You mean from all the other women wandering around that mountain?”
“I was on your world for many days. I scouted throughout the settlement seeking a mate. I observed many females but none called to me like you did.”
“You went to the town?” Hope exclaimed. “Are you nuts? You could have been seen!”
“I am a g’hir warrior.” He gave a careless shrug. “I was armed.”
“Armed?” she cried. “Against an entire town of rednecks? You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed!”
He gave a faint smile. “You are outraged, indignant that I could have been harmed.”
“Well, of course! But—” Hope broke off, blinking.
Man, he looked sweet, his glowing eyes alight, his full mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at her . . .
“Look, I’m sorry, R’har. I know why you came to Earth, I even get why you stole me off my planet, and I don’t want to hurt you but it’s just—” She wet her lips. “I’m done with relationships. I’m better off on my own.”
R’har took another step toward her, closing the last bit of distance between them so she could feel the warmth of his body. He took her hand in his and raised it, moving it this way and that as he studied the ring.
“A fine jewel.” In a quick, deft move he slipped it from her finger and held it up to the light to examine it closer. “Very fine.”
In the next instant he popped open a storage cubby over the bed and tossed the ring inside.
“Hey!” she cried, yanked out of her shock as he activated the seal on the cubby door. “That’s—! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“It is a handsome bauble.” He regarded her mildly. “I have decided to steal it.”
Hope shook her head a little. “What?”
“Steal it,” he said with a shrug. “I have, as you say, stolen you. I see no reason not to steal that jewel as well.”
She glanced at the cubby he’d tossed the ring into. “And what if Brian wants it back? He probably will, you know. Believe me, the man is cheapskate. A lying, cheating, snake of a cheapskate.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Boy, can I pick ’em.”
“If this male wants back what I have taken—” R’har smiled, his fangs sharp and dangerous in this light. “He is welcome to come ask me for it.”
The idea of Brian trying to face down this huge alien warrior for anything was so ludicrous that Hope suddenly burst out laughing.
R’har grinned down at her, his glowing eyes warm with humor, his large hand still cradling hers.
Looking at her now bare hand and just having the ring off, not having to see it there, not to have wear that symbol of heartache, to have it just gone, was such a blessed relief she felt like she could finally breathe again.
“Thank you, R’har,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “That was really . . . nice.”
“I did not think to impress you by turning thief.” His thumb lightly t
raced the back of her hand. “I have a great deal to learn about human females.”
Determined or not, exactly what she could teach him instantly came to mind and she dropped her gaze. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her warmed cheeks.
He let go of her and turned to hit some keys on a control panel near the door, then sat briefly to pull off his boots.
Or maybe he had noticed, because in the next moment he stood, already undoing the fastenings of his shirt.
“Uh, R’har?” Hope cleared her throat. “What are you doing?”
“The night cycle has begun.” His shirt slid off his shoulders, to reveal a tan sculpted chest and stomach. “It is time to go to bed.”
“Wait . . . You mean both of us . . . in here? Together?”
Tossing his shirt aside he gave a short, huffing g’hir’s chuckle, as if her question was silly in the extreme.
“I don’t think . . . I mean, since I’m going home and all, that’s probably—R’har, would you please stop taking your clothes off for a second!”
He paused with raised eyebrows, his hand at the fastening of his half-undone trousers.
“I really—” she began, incredibly proud she managed to keep her gaze at eye-level. “I really don’t think we should sleep here together.”
In response he unfastened his trousers and stepped out of them, leaving him in nothing but dark blue undershorts.
Very form-fitting undershorts . . .
He sat on the bed, stretching out his long, tanned legs, and leaned back on his hands to regard her. “Are we going to fuck now?”
“What?” she managed.
“Because if we are going to fuck now then you should get into bed with me,” he said reasonably. “But if we are not going to fuck now,” he continued with a shrug of his huge shoulders, “then there is no reason you should not sleep here beside me.”
It was a perfectly logical argument, really . . .
Hope cleared her throat again. “I’ll sleep in the common room.”
He gave a g’hir’s snort of disbelief. “I do not think you will be comfortable there.”
Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 Page 7
