Page 143 of Tamed By Her Touch

And before Clair could protest, he scooped her up in his massive arms and carried her down the corridor.

She snuggled against him, laying her head on one massive shoulder like a tired child and closed her eyes. He smelled so good and she felt so safe in his arms.

It was too bad she couldn’t stay there.

23

KAELUS

Kaelus carried Clair back to their suite wrapped in the soft silver cloth from the massage chamber, acutely aware of every warm, yielding inch of her nestled against him.

Her head rested on his shoulder, her curly hair tickling the side of his throat, and one small hand lay loosely against his chest as though she trusted him completely to take care of her.

The knowledge should have pleased him—instead, it made guilt twist like a blade in his gut. He could still feel the wetness of her tears beneath his fingertip, and he couldn’t stop wondering if he had caused them.

She had told him that he hadn’t hurt her—had insisted that she was only emotional because of the intensity of what they had done, but Kaelus wasn’t certain he believed her. Clair had been happy after her climax—soft and glowing and smiling up at him—and then he had opened his foolish mouth and told her he wished she was really his. Soon after that, the tears had come.

It didn’t take a brilliant scientist to establish the cause and effect of her sorrow.

You went too far, whispered a little voice in his head.

The thought had been tormenting him from the moment he saw that tear on her cheek. He had gone far beyond what their mission required—far beyond what two coworkers ought to do with each other, no matter what absurd customs their hosts expected them to imitate.

It didn’t matter that Clair had consented to everything. It didn’t matter that she had opened herself for him willingly or that she had clutched his hair and cried his name while he pleasured her. It didn’t even matter that tasting her had been one of the most profoundly erotic experiences of his life.

None of that changed the simple fact that Clair had spent years with a male who had damaged her confidence and then betrayed her, and she had told Kaelus plainly that she wanted nothing more to do with males afterward. He should have respected that declaration instead of letting his own selfish longing convince him that her desire in the moment meant she wanted something more.

And the worst part was that he did want more—gods, how he wanted it.

He wanted to carry her like this every night—not because some alien custom required it, but because she belonged in his arms. He wanted to listen to her chatter about plants while he made her coffee in the morning. He wanted to argue with her over lab safety and move everything she needed down from the upper shelves even though she complained about him treating her like a child.

He wanted to feed her when she became so absorbed in her work that she forgot to eat. He wanted her bright dresses and her ridiculous Southern endearments and her laughter filling his quarters until his austere, orderly existence no longer resembled anything it had been before she entered it.

And yes, he wanted her soft, curvy body too—wanted it with an intensity that bordered on madness—but that was almost the smallest part of it now.

Kaelus tightened his arms around her unconsciously and Clair sighed and snuggled closer.

That simple gesture of trust made his heart fist in his chest.

Mine, whispered the primitive part of him. MINE!

But she wasn’t and she could never be.

The door to their suite opened at his approach, and Kaelus carried her inside. Clair stirred against him as the door closed behind them, lifting her head from his shoulder.

“You can put me down now,” she murmured sleepily. “I can walk.”

“I know,” Kaelus murmured. But he didn’t put her down.

Instead, he carried her straight through the sleeping chamber and into the bathing room, where the large oval bathing pool was recessed into the floor.

He remembered rushing in here that morning after hearing her cry out, terrified that she had injured herself, only to discover that the shower had startled her with a blast of cold water.

At the time, seeing her naked and covered in fragrant cleansing foam had nearly destroyed what little self-control he possessed. Now, strangely, he felt none of the frantic sexual urgency that had possessed him then. He was simply aware that Clair was exhausted, covered in massage oil, and needed to be cared for.

“Time for a bath,” he rumbled.

Clair gave him a faint smile.