Chapter 10

H'zim was acutely aware of Kara at his side as they walked towards the bedroom. Her body brushed lightly against his and he caught the tantalizing sweetness of her arousal, her body responding to his presence. His own desire stirred, a throbbing, familiar ache that only made him more determined to resist.

He stopped at the bedroom door, gripping the frame as he turned to her.

"I'll sleep in the barn again," he said, trying his best not to sound regretful.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face before she masked it with a neutral expression.

"Okay," she said.

Her voice was soft but there was a hint of challenge in it and he had to turn away, not trusting himself to stay in the same room with her. The memory of their kiss still lingered on his lips, the taste of her on his tongue. But he couldn't give in to his desires, not when he still had a score to settle with Bextor.

As he crossed the room, he could feel her watching him, her gaze like a gentle touch on his skin. His resolve faltered for a moment, but then he stiffened. No. He wouldn't let her get to him, no matter how much his body craved her.

He grabbed a blanket and strode out into the night, the cool air a welcome respite from the heat building inside him. The barn loomed ahead, its darkness a refuge from the temptation that was Kara. Except it wasn't a refuge. As he settled onto the hay, thoughts of her continued to haunt him - her softness, her sweetness, her bright smile and warm heart.

He did his best to push those thoughts aside, to focus. Get the farm running, and then leave. And then at long last, have his revenge.

He was doing his best to concentrate on that goal when the barn door creaked open, and Kara stood in the doorway, her figure silhouetted against the moonlit sky.

"H'zim, it's your turn to take the bed," she said firmly.

"I'm fine here," he said, trying to sound convincing.

She ignored him and took a step forward, her face determined.

"No, you're not. You had a long day and you need a good night's sleep. We agreed to alternate. It's only fair that you take the bed."

He sighed, his resolve weakening.

"I don't want to argue about this."

She didn't back down.

"Then why are you being so stubborn? I'm just trying to be fair. And practical."

Unable to think of a convincing argument, he simply shook his head and she threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Fine. If you're so determined that I sleep in the bed, why don't we just share it?"

Share the bed with her? Heat raced down his spine, and for a moment, he forgot about his resolve, forgot about his revenge, and forgot about everything except the desire roaring through his body.

He opened his mouth to refuse, but somehow, "yes" emerged instead.

"Good."

She gave him a sunny smile and held out her hand as if she could actually pull him to her feet. The thought amused him and he found himself half smiling as he rose. As soon as he did, she took his hand and let him back across the yard and into the bedroom, as if she were afraid he'd escape.

He sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the window and toed off his boots. After a moment's hesitation, he also removed his shirt. That was as far as he was prepared to go, especially with his cock throbbing painfully against the tight confines of his pants.

She was also getting ready for bed and he quickly averted his eyes, trying not to notice the way her hair cascaded like a fiery river down her back. He focused on the wall, his eyes fixed on a small crack in the plaster, but his peripheral vision still caught glimpses of her movements. She seemed to be taking her time, her actions deliberate and slow, as if savoring the moment.

When she finally climbed into bed beside him, his body tensed, his muscles coiled like springs. He lay stiff and rigid, trying to maintain a safe distance between them, but she had no intention of maintaining that distance. She immediately snuggled against his side, her warmth seeping into his skin, and her breasts rising and falling tormentingly with the gentle rhythm of her breath.

His heart raced as her hand brushed his chest before settling over his heart. He tried to shift away, to put a little distance between them but she only snuggled closer, her body molding to his like the other piece of a puzzle. He lay there, frozen, his body a battleground of conflicting desires. Part of him wanted to push her away, to maintain the distance he'd so carefully constructed around himself, but another part of him yearned to hold her close, to let go of his doubts and kiss her, to explore that soft, delightful body.

She didn't seem to suffer the same anxiety, her breathing quickly settling into the even rhythm of sleep. He remained locked in place, finally letting her soft breathing lull him into a state of uneasy vigilance.

The next thing he knew, morning sunlight was creeping into the room. For a moment, he was disoriented, his mind foggy with sleep. Then he felt the soft warmth nestled against him, the lush ass cradling his aching cock. Kara. He'd wrapped himself around her as they slept, his arms holding her possessively. How the hell had that happened? He hadn't meant to fall asleep, let alone hold her so close.

He hadn't slept well in years, the memories of war etched into his brain like scars. Ayyla had refused to share a bed with him, citing his restless nights as the reason, although he now realized she simply hadn't been interested.

Prison had only exacerbated his troubled nights. The solitude and the confinement had amplified the nightmares, making them more vivid, more real. His first few nights of freedom hadn't stopped them, not in Port Cantor and not here. But with her in his arms he'd slept deeply and peacefully for the first time in years.

He tried to ease himself away but as soon as he shifted her eyes opened. She didn't seem remotely bothered by the fact that he was clinging to her. Her lips curved into a sweet, sleepy smile and his resolve crumbled. He lowered his head and kissed her.

If the kiss last night had been fierce and possessive, this one was filled with tenderness. She yielded sweetly to his embrace, her lips parting beneath his. He explored her mouth slowly, thoroughly, as her hands came up to curve around his neck. He cupped her face, caressing that smooth freckled cheek, and let his hand drift down to explore the delicate line of her collarbone, and then lower still to the round fullness of her breast. His hand closed over her breast, the nipple a hard point against his palm, and she gasped softly into his mouth.

The sound sent a surge of heat down his spine and he pulled her closer, rolling on top of her so that she was pinned beneath him, his hips between hers. She didn't object, arching against him. His cock was throbbing painfully, and he rocked against her, the friction against the thin barrier of their clothes sending sparks through his veins. For a moment he lost himself in the sweet, heady rush of desire.

Her nipple stiffened even more beneath his hand and he tugged it, rolling it between his fingers. She moaned, squirming against him, and her legs parted, her softness cradling his straining cock. He slid his hand down to her waist, then even further, gripping the delicious fullness of her ass and pulling her tighter against him.

Fuck, she was perfect. Soft and sweet and willing. Willing… An icy shard of doubt trickled down his spine. Why was she so willing? He was nothing but a big scarred ex-convict. Had he completely misread her?

"Wait," he growled, reluctantly lifting his lips from hers.

His body screamed at him to ignore his doubts and claim her, but he ignored the demand. His body had betrayed him before.

"What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her red hair was tangled around her face and the top button of her shirt had come open to reveal the upper swell of her breasts. He'd never seen a more tempting sight but his doubts had taken over.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Feel sorry for you? Why would I feel sorry for you? I like you, H'zim."

She put her hands on his face, brushing her thumb across his scarred cheek but this time it wasn't a comfort. It only reminded him of his shortcomings.

"I'm nothing special," he growled, the self-loathing that had been his constant companion for so long rising to the surface.

"To me, you are."

Her eyes glowed with such sincerity that for a moment his doubts faltered, but he was too afraid of being manipulated again to let himself believe her.

"Stop it," he snarled. "Don't try to play me."

He rolled off of her and stalked out of the room, his fears propelling him away from her questioning gaze. He needed distance, needed to clear his head, needed to remind himself of his goals.

As he burst into the bright morning air, a measure of control returned. He took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs, and headed for the barn, towards the familiar comfort of hard work and discipline.