His iridescent eyes declared him to be Rb'qarmshi. And Glennora was sure this glorious specimen before her--taller and more broadly formed than any Rb'qarmshi warrior she had ever seen--outclassed them all. He literally stole her breath away, left her gasping in instant awe and lust.
The male towered over her, his head not clearing the ceiling. Her neck arched as her head tilted, her disbelieving gaze tracking up and up his imposing body, over long, firm legs, lingering on the junction of powerful thighs that nestled a masculine bulge graphically molded by constricting jeans. Her gaze skimmed across the broad chest straining the material of a tight black T-shirt, then roved over a face covered by darkly tanned skin that stretched without wrinkle over a pair of blade-sharp cheekbones. His lips were wide and square, the bottom one fuller than the top, and his eyelashes and brows were thick and heavy, dark as a moonless night.
Stunned by the visual feast before her, she lifted her awed gaze again to the man's golden bronze eyes, finding them as alien as her own when not disguised by the hated contacts ... and hotly returning her frank perusal with a heated male stare that reminded her she was covered only by a skimpy towel.
She clutched the terry wrap against her chest with nervous fingers, accidentally scraping the rough material across her jutting nipples. In spite of her recent orgasm, need sparked along her nerve endings, and she fought an involuntary shiver as prickling, tingling sensations rushed over her greedy flesh. In the strained stillness of the room, she became acutely aware of the man's pointed attention, felt his stare zeroing in on her stiffening crests.
She twitched her towel higher, her dry throat working to swallow the lump of lust threatening to choke her. Against her will, her gaze flicked down toward--then quickly away from--the stranger's jean-covered groin, where the thickening evidence of his maleness proved the sexual interest she was feeling to be mutual.
For an endless moment, she basked in a fantasy world where this huge male found her attractive, perhaps as attractive as she was finding him. Then her euphoria was shattered as she abruptly realized there was a mature male standing in her bedroom.
An uninvited, very big man, who had invaded her private space ... and she had no way of knowing if he was friend or foe.
Backing away from the intruder, she assumed her haughty look--the one Lori called her "royal princess expression." Her voice not quite steady, she asked, "How dare you violate my privacy and enter my chambers without permission?"
Her question seemed to go right over the man's head. She wasn't even sure he had heard her. He was too busy growling something in his dark, husky voice, his eyelids slowly closing as his nostrils flared, chest rising on a deeply inhaled breath.
Good Lord! Was he sniffing at her?
He continued to speak, and she found herself ensorcelled by the sheer loveliness of the sounds pouring from that beautiful mouth. Even his gruff, masculine tone could not detract from the splendor of the otherworldly cadence of--
A momentary panic dumped ice water upon her enchantment with the liquid, musical language pouring from the stranger. Her mouth tightened as she shook off her unusual bemusement, her eyes angrily narrowing at his daring affront.
"Hey! My father's edicts expressly forbid our language--Rb'qarmli--to be spoken anywhere but on the colony world, and his commands have the force of law, binding on all loyal Rb'qarmshi. Who are you, and how dare you insult and dishonor your chyya by ignoring his laws?"
The man's mobile lips stretched into a slight smile while his eyes twinkled. His coloring was very like hers. Dark hair and softly glowing tangerine eyes proclaimed a possibly distant blood connection. A flushed heat warmed her cheeks when she noted his gaze riveted on her mouth. The heat moved lower, brushing her nipples and pussy with a tingling warmth when he licked his lips. His broad tongue smoothed over his full bottom lip, then made the reverse journey on the curved highway of his top lip.
She experienced an almost uncontrollable urge to feel those intriguing lips crushing her own ... a burning desire to taste more than his damp lips. There were, literally, miles of skin she could explore and sample, given more time than she had available now.
She gave her head a quick, thought-clearing shake and sternly reined in her lust. She strove to keep her outward stance toward him cold, as frigid as Ron had often accused her of being, though she wagered this male could heat her quickly enough if she gave him leave.
"Forgive, princess, the unavoidable intrusion of your privacy." The male's stiffly formal phrasing sounded as if he struggled with an unfamiliar language. "Assured be, I mean to Chyya Glenbrevchanka no disrespect. Your father, lady, is not my sovereign. His edicts are not my rule." He frowned. "Do you speak no Rb'qarmli at all?"
She shook her head. "Nope, I was a baby when my mother's shuttle crashed on Earth..." Nnora's words slowed and stopped. Her eyes narrowed as she realized something. "But then, you would know that if you came from my father."
The stranger made a disapproving noise and his frown deepened, darkening his handsome face when he heard her nonchalant statement. "That is a ... shame, yet fixable. You will learn quickly. We have medicines that will assist. Until then, I continue to say words in this planet's barbaric tongue. You would understand my words of greeting to you?"
She was sure her expressive face informed her uninvited visitor how unhappy his choice of words made her. She didn't much care for the way he disparaged her adoptive planet, not to mention his matter-of-fact assumption that she would be learning the language just to converse with him. Not living likely!
"Well, don't make me wait all day," she snapped irritably. "If you have something to say, spit it out."
Even before his brows drew together in a look of reprimand, she modified her words, appalled at her rudeness. She'd been taught better. Just a few years ago, Mom Brewster would have served her a dose of manners applied to her backside with a long wooden spoon.
"Forgive me. Yes, I would like to understand what you said to me." It wasn't the thought of her adopted mother's swift discipline that had her scrambling to apologize. Even as she heard her placating words, she marveled that a disapproving look from this man had her changing her attitude, striving to please him.
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