Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Y es, Tomlin thought, then immediately corrected himself. Even though his little scholar definitely needed someone to look after her, he wasn't that person. He couldn't be that person.

I shouldn't even be here. He knew he was hovering on the edge of control, but he had been able to control himself. Yes, the mating lines were showing, but there was no one else present to witness them, and she was already aware of his mixed heritage. If they didn't fade when he left her, they could be concealed under his clothing.

The thought of leaving her caused an almost physical ache, but he would have to leave. He couldn't take the chance of causing her any harm. He couldn't bring himself to answer her question out loud, afraid that the truth would spring out. Instead, he shook his head, and focused on preparing a meal for her.

Although the ingredients were not of the quality she deserved, he found the results acceptable, and she ate readily enough. When she was finished, she pushed back the plate and smiled at him.

"If you're trying to fatten me up, I should warn you that I have a very fast metabolism. It's extremely unlikely that I'll gain weight."

"Why would I wish you to gain weight?"

"Most men seem to prefer women with more curves."

"You are perfect exactly the way you are."

The words popped out before he could help himself. A faint tinge of pink rose to her cheeks as she shook her head.

"You don't need to worry about pandering to my ego. I accepted my plainness a long time ago." She shrugged. "And it doesn't really matter. My mind is what matters."

"Of course your intelligence is important, as is your spirit. But there is nothing lacking in your physical appearance. You have an elegant bone structure, and you move gracefully. Your hair is the warm color of leaves in the autumn. And your eyes are like dark molten amber, warm and inviting."

She looked so startled that he almost laughed, but then the pink in her cheeks intensified, and she dropped her lashes to conceal her eyes.

"You're very sweet."

"I'm not sweet."

The words came out harsher than he'd intended, and she looked up again, her eyes wide.

"That wasn't an insult."

"You assume that I am speaking falsehoods to pacify you. That is an insult."

Once again, their eyes met, and the pull between them was even stronger this time.

Claim her , his Krythian side demanded, but he ignored it.

"I'm willing to believe that you're speaking the truth as you see it." There was the faintest tremor in her voice. "But perhaps not everyone sees it the same way."

"Then they are fools."

Without waiting for a response, he removed her empty plate and set about restoring the kitchen to its previous pristine order. When he couldn't find anything else that needed to be done, he reluctantly returned to the table.

She was still sitting there, watching him thoughtfully. Although her perceptive gaze concerned him, there was something soothing about her silence. She didn't seem to feel the need for unnecessary conversation. A pleasant change from most humans.

"You never responded to my proposition," she said, as he sat down. "Are you willing to experiment with me?"

"I… cannot."

"What do you mean? You seem to be physically capable." Her eyes widened again. "Unless your race is like that all the time?"

She cast a curious glance towards his lap, and he found himself grateful that the table was between them and she couldn't see his cock respond.

"No, we are not like that all the time, and yes, I am physically capable. It is simply not possible."

Despite the finality in his tone, he was not surprised when she continued to question him.

"Is it for religious reasons? Have you taken a vow of some kind?"

He shook his head silently.

"Then I must admit I'm a little confused. You say you're attracted to me. There is no physical barrier, and you have not forsworn women. Are you afraid? I promise I won't do anything you don't like."

"There is nothing you could do that I would not enjoy," he said truthfully. "But you are the one who should be afraid. Don't you realize that my Krythian… impulses are very powerful?"

"I know. To my surprise, I find that rather intriguing."

"You don't understand. That strength means that I might inadvertently hurt you."

She tilted her head to one side, considering the matter, then smiled at him again.

"I don't believe you would."

"What makes you say that?"

"You were under the grip of your Krythian side when you walked in on me earlier, weren't you?"

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly.

"And you wanted me." The pink was back in her cheeks. "But you didn't do anything about it."

"You're correct, but it was difficult to restrain myself."

Could he tell her how close he had been to losing control?

"Nonetheless, you did restrain yourself," she said triumphantly. "I'm sure it would be fine."

The thoughtful expression crossed her face again as he fought the temptation to accept her offer, and then she smiled at him.

"But if you're really worried about it, we could try something similar to what we're doing with the morchev. You simply need to build up your resistance so that you know you can remain in control."

Keeping her eyes on his face, she slowly reached out, her hand hovering in the air over his.

"May I?" she asked softly.

All of the caution he had learned over the years told him to say no. Instead, he found himself nodding, and a moment later, those long, graceful fingers rested over his. He shuddered as the connection between them opened, her emotions flooding him.

Curiosity. Speculation. Desire. She wanted him. Wanted this.

Mate.

He snatched his hand away as the urge to claim her surged through him again. He fought to regain control, closing his eyes and taking long, slow breaths, but they only served to flood his senses with more of her delectable scent.

He clenched his fists, and the sudden, sharp sting of his nails against his palms helped him regain control. Something nagged at him, but he ignored it, focusing on the beats of his heart, his mantra, before finally opening his eyes. She was in the exact same position she had been in before, her hand still resting on the table in front of him, her eyes thoughtful.

"Is it always like that when you touch someone?"

"I rarely touch anyone. However, I have established practices over the years which usually allow me to retain control when it occurs. That is… difficult where you are concerned."

"Simply because I'm a woman?"

"That is part of the reason," he said truthfully, although it was far from the entire truth. "It is also because I have been exposed to a number of threats to my control recently." He hesitated, then admitted to another portion of the truth. "No one has ever affected me the way you do."

"I wonder why that is."

Because you're my mate.

Fortunately, he managed to prevent those words from escaping.

She bit her lip. "Is it painful when we touch?"

"Painful isn't exactly the correct term," he said dryly, and she smiled at him.

"Then we should try again."

"I think perhaps it would be better to wait."

"But you're still willing to try?"

Once again, he knew he should say no. But the possibility of being able to touch her and remain in control was too tempting to resist. He gave a quick nod, then rose.

"Now you should return to your bed, little scholar. That busy brain of yours needs rest."

"I suppose so. Hopefully, I'll be able to sleep now."

As she rose to her feet, he spotted the mark on her robe. A stain created when he'd broken his mug and spilled his tea. The mark was beneath her left hip, and he automatically reached for it, his hand hovering just above the fabric.

"I'm sorry about your robe. I will do my best to remove the stain."

"Thank you."

She hesitated, then moved a fraction closer. Close enough that his fingers rested lightly on her silk-covered thigh.

"Does this help? To have something between us?"

It actually did help a little. The rush of emotion was still there but it was muted enough by the fabric to make it easier to retain control.

He found himself stroking the soft silk, warm from the skin beneath. His hand slid up over her hip and she sighed softly and leaned into his touch. Emboldened by his success, he carefully slid his hand higher and cupped a small, perfect breast. She gasped, and the intoxicating fragrance of her arousal flooded his senses.

To his horror, his hand immediately tightened around the soft flesh as a possessive growl escaped.

He immediately forced himself to release her, pulling back so quickly that he almost stumbled - and he never lost his footing.

"I appear to have overestimated the effectiveness of the barrier."

Despite his attempt to sound normal the words came out as a harsh growl. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and her pretty lips parted.

"You didn't hurt me. You're still in control."

She spoke softly but with absolute certainty and reached for him again.

"I'm not," he growled and flung himself out of the kitchen and away from his impossibly tempting mate.

He didn't even bother to strip down as he headed for the door. Perhaps this time, he would succeed in exhausting himself to a point where he could regain some level of control. He took a deep breath of the cool evening air.

And then he ran.