The quiet swish of the door opening behind us alerts me to Rovos’ arrival.
His steps are too quiet for me to hear, but there is no mistaking his heat at my back. Seconds stretch into minutes, and I wonder if he wants me to turn and look at him.
I don’t. I can’t. I’m barely holding it together as it is. I know the moment I see his face—that goddamn handsome face of his—I’ll turn into a sobbing puddle, begging him to let me stay.
I refuse to do that.
So I take a deep breath and stand tall. “Are we doing this?”
With no warning, Rovos grabs my upper arm, and I squeak in surprise when he spins me around to face him. His glittering eyes meet mine briefly, and then he kneels in front of me. The sight of his enormous body kneeling at my feet makes my heart stutter and my stomach clench. Before I can stop him, Rovos grabs the front of my cloak and wrenches the sides apart.
“Hey!” I shout indignantly. “What are you doing?”
His eyes prowl over my body. Clenching my teeth, I bite back the moan that wants to escape when I feel his feather-light touch against my thigh. It’s not hard to imagine his hand sliding higher, his fingers curling, dragging them up the inside of my leg to cup the place that throbs for him. Instead, I hear rending fabric as he pulls the outside seam of my pants apart, creating a gaping hole in the wide leg.
I open my mouth to admonish him, but the words die on my lips when he buckles a holster to my thigh. Once it’s secured, he arranges the pant leg around it so it’s hidden.
Even kneeling, Rovos is nearly as tall as I am. Neither of us move while we take in the sight of each other. His eyes are on mine, and I don’t miss the flecks of gold woven through his lush green irises. He hasn’t been this close to me since… since that night on the bridge. A blush creeps into my cheeks as I remember the things he did to me. How he made me feel. I realize this is probably the last time I’ll ever see him.
“Thank you,” I quietly tell him. “For everything.”
My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip, and I catch him focusing his attention there as his own tongue darts out to brush across his full lower lip. He’s close enough that I only need to lean forward. Just a little, so I do, brushing my lips against his. It’s a light touch. Fleeting.
Rovos sucks in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t pull back, so I lean in a little farther, letting my lips linger against his. His eyes are wide and watching me. So I do it again, this time slowly dragging my lips across his before pressing a light kiss to his bottom lip.
“What do you call this?” he asks when I pull back.
“A kiss.”
“Kees,” he mumbles before closing the distance between us. His hand cups the back of my head, and this time it’s his lips that claim mine, his arm that slides around my waist, pulling me against his hard chest as his mouth moves over mine.
It’s only supposed to be a quick kiss. Athank youkiss. A goodbye kiss. But when I flick my tongue across the seam of his lips, he growls low. The vibration rumbles through his chest, and I melt against him. He angles his head and opens for me, plunging inside until our tongues duel and teeth nip.
I’m out of breath and flushed when he pulls back. His eyes are glowing golden rings, and I’d bet money that if I slipped my hand over the front of his pants, he’d be hard as stone for me. Instead, I step back, and he sits back on his heels, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
When he stands up, he’s holding a wicked sharp knife out to me.
I reach out to take it, and he twirls it in his hand before handing it to me, hilt first. I’m surprised at how good the grip feels in my palm.
“Just in case,” he rumbles. Taking hold of my hand, he turns my wrist so the smooth edge of the knife points up, and the serrated side is facing down. “If you have to use this, aim for the belly. You’ll do the most damage and hopefully give yourself time to get away.”
He steps closer and, still holding my hand with the knife, shows me where to aim and puncture on his body. “Stab in. Thrust up, then rip the blade down and out.”
He shows me the move over and over until I can repeat it to his satisfaction.
“Are you sure about this, Rovos?” Igid asks what I’m thinking.
He nods and turns away.
“Rovos, wait,” I say as I grab his hand. “Before we do this, I want you to promise me something.”
He turns back to face me and nods as his fingers curl around mine.
“I want you to promise that you’ll keep an eye on the Xar’ads, so they don’t go back to my planet. Also, if you hear about any other humans being trafficked, promise me you’ll help them.”
“I promise,” he whispers, bowing his head.
“Okay.” I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders. “Thank you.”
