“Bebo? What the hell is a Bebo?” Liv demanded, still keeping her distance from the bright blue teddy bear which was eyeing her mistrustfully.
“Bebo’s his name. He’s a zicther—an animal native to my home world, Rageron.”
“Rageron?” Liv frowned, wondering why the name of his home planet evoked strange images in her head.
Baird nodded. “It’s a jungle planet with a helluva lot more scary animals than Bebo here.” He crouched down to scratch the little animal under its chin. Its large eyes closed and it made a sort of grunting purr as it submitted to his caress.
“A jungle planet,” Liv murmured. “Only instead of green, most of the vegetation is blue.”
“That’s right.” Baird looked up from where he was crouched on the floor, a startled expression on his chiseled features. “How did you know that?”
“I saw it in a dream.” Liv blushed and looked down. “One of the dreams we shared I think. I saw you…never mind.” She shook her head. “Anyway, that accounts for his bright blue fur. I still don’t understand why he tried to attack me though.”
“He tried to attack you?” Though he was clearly trying to keep the skepticism from his voice, Baird wasn’t succeeding too well.
“Well, he bared his teeth at me!” Liv said, irritated. Of course now that its master was home the little animal was acting like butter wouldn’t melt in its alien mouth. Its alien mouth filled with shark teeth, she reminded herself.
“That’s just a greeting stance. He probably did it because he was meeting you for the first time.” Baird rose and dusted blue feathery fur off his large hands. “I’m sorry if he scared you. He’s not dangerous though, just curious.”
“Curious enough to make me drop the milk carton and chase me down the hall?” Liv raised an eyebrow, still not buying the whole Bebo-is-such-a-good-boy routine.
“The what carton?” Baird shook his head. “Sorry, I thought I knew all of your language but sometimes the slang still throws me.”
“It’s not slang, it’s a drink,” Liv explained as Bebo shuffled off down the hall. Apparently she and Baird held no further interest for the little creature. “It comes from a cow and we drink it. That’s what I thought the white stuff in the kitchen, er, food-prep area was. Or that’s what it kind of looked like, anyway.”
“Oh, so that’s what happened to my fireflower juice. It’s a pretty potent alcoholic beverage you know.”
Liv sighed. “I sort of found that out the hard way. But I told you, it looked like milk which is about as far from alcohol as you can get on Earth.”
Baird looked confused. “But this milk…you said it comes from a cow? Isn’t that a large bovine animal with horns?”
Liv nodded. “Uh-huh. Farmers keep them—well, dairy farmers anyway. And they milk them, uh, squeeze the milk out of them, every day for humans to drink.”
Baird made a face. “So you’re sayin’ you drink liquid that’s been squeezed out of an animal?”
“When you say it like that it sounds terrible.” Liv frowned. “Don’t the Kindred have any domesticated animals?”
“None that I’d want to drink what came out when I squeezed it. Where do they squeeze the bovine to get this milk anyway? The horns?”
“Uh, no.” Liv sighed. “Actually I think it has this big bag between its, uh, its hind legs.”
“Between its legs? The squeezings come from between its legs?” Baird shook his head and then burst out laughing again. “Sorry, I’m sure the Kindred have some ways that seem strange to you but that…that’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Despite herself Liv felt the corners of her mouth twitching. His deep rumbling laugh was infectious and somehow everything she’d been through in the past hour seemed so silly now. Stumbling around in the dark, drinking hard liquor and thinking it was milk, being chased by what amounted to a toy poodle, at least from Baird’s point of view…Even the attack by the mat didn’t seem so bad now that she knew she’d just pressed the wrong buttons. And now, trying to explain where milk came from…Well, I supposed it does sound kind of disgusting, she admitted to herself. But still…
“Milk’s good for you,” she lectured, trying to keep from laughing.
“Good for you, huh?” He grinned. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“No, but it is.” Liv put her hands on her hips, forgetting about the ragged, gaping hole in her nighty. “It builds strong bones and shiny hair and…and…” She tried to think of something else.
“And smooth, soft skin?” The laughter was suddenly gone from Baird’s voice and there was a heat in his eyes that made Liv’s pulse start to race.
“Well…sure. I guess so.” She shrugged.
“Then you must have had a lot of it.” He took a step toward her and ran one fingertip down the column of her throat and over the upper curve of her breasts.
“Why would you say—oh!” Looking down Liv realized that she was on display, both breasts fully visible through the hole the Touch-U had torn in the black silk and lace of her nighty. Her nipples were hard from his gentle touch and her heart was pounding.
“I think it’s pretty clear why I’d say that,” Baird rumbled, giving her another heated look. “It’s because you have the softest, smoothest skin I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait to kiss every inch of it.”
“I…you…” Liv snatched the ragged remains of her nighty closed and took a step back. “I told you I’m not going to…to give in to you.”
“We’ll see.” Baird’s eyes were still hot and his voice was soft and deep. “Why don’t you relax in the other room while I make our late-day meal? I got ingredients for your favorite dish.”
“You…how do you know what my favorite thing to eat is?” Liv asked, taking another step back. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she had to get away from his hot gaze and his big, muscular body if she didn’t want to end up rolling around on the bed with him again.
The corner of Baird’s full mouth quirked up. “I know the same way you know that the jungles on my home world are blue. Because I’ve been watching you for the last six months while we dream-shared.”
“I don’t…I can’t think about this right now.” Liv shook her head. “I’ll see you at dinner. Uh, I mean late-day meal. Okay?”
“Suit yourself, Lilenta,” Baird’s eyes were still hot but there was something in them that worried Liv more than his obvious lust for her. When she looked into those amber depths she saw…patience. The big warrior was actually prepared to wait as long as it took to seduce her. Now that was scary. More scary than fanged blue teddy bears and molesting massage mats by far.
Baird shook his head as she ran off down the hallway. He had been going to suggest that she take a dip in the bathing pool but he supposed it was just as well to save that for after late-day meal and before they went to bed. That way maybe she’d be relaxed from soaking in the warm waters of the pool and would be willing to be close to him. He only wished he would be bathing with her but that wasn’t going to happen—not yet, anyway. After her earlier reaction to his kiss Olivia was now doubly wary. He was fairly sure that she was going to make him wait until she was legally obligated by the claiming contract they had signed to let him touch her.
It’s only a week away, he reminded himself but still the thought of not being able to caress her beautiful, lush body for so long made him restless and hungry. In the moment when she’d forgotten the hole in her gown he’d gotten to see her breasts for the first time. Round and full with tight pink nipples that looked made to be sucked, just the sight had him hard and wanting her. Wanting her so badly it hurt… Patience, he told himself sternly. His half-brother had gained some good insight into why Olivia was so reluctant to bond with him and he would be a fool to ignore Sylvan’s advice. Still, he burned for her. Ached for the touch and taste and scent of her skin. Longed to lose himself in her tight, hot, depths and hear her call his name as she came over and over…
Might as well stop d
reaming about something you’re probably going to have to wait a long time for, Baird lectured himself. Of course he’d already waited six months for his bride—one more month ought to be nothing. But now that he had her in his suite where he could see her and smell her sweet, delicate feminine fragrance each time he inhaled, every second they weren’t together seemed like an eternity.
Get a grip. You’re never going to win her over by pushing too hard. You tried that this afternoon and where did it get you? Nowhere fast. It was true and he knew it but still, it was hard to rein himself in when every cell in his body was demanding that he take her, that he bond her to him forever so that there was no chance of losing her.
The night before when he’d stood outside her house and watched her through her window everything had seemed so simple—claim her, take her up to the ship, and spend the next month making love to her, bonding her to him. Things were turning out to be a lot more complicated than he’d anticipated but while he was disappointed, he was still determined. Olivia was his—she’d given herself to him in spirit if not in body the moment they began to dream share six months before. It was just going to take him a little longer to convince her of that than he’d first thought, that was all.
Yeah, and in the mean time it looks like I’m gonna have blue balls for awhile. It wasn’t a pleasant thought but Baird knew every ounce of patience and every minute spent waiting for her would be worth it the moment she finally gave herself to him. The moment he thrust deep into her tight sheath and felt his mating fist expand to fill her for the first time, tying them together as they bonded for life.
Sighing he went back to the front entrance of the suite, which looked out onto the busy inner world of the Kindred ship. He’d dropped the large cardboard box filled with Olivia’s possessions and the bags of human food he’d gotten at the market here when he heard her scream. Hoping there was nothing breakable in the box, he moved it to one side and gathered the bags to take to the food-prep area.
First he cleaned up the spilled fireflower juice and then began unpacking the human food. It came in flimsy but tough containers made of the material humans called plastic and also in round metal cylinders with colorful labels on the sides that supposedly showed what the contents looked like. There was also some kind of red sauce in a hard clear jar. None of it looked very appetizing to Baird but being Kindred he was used to trying new foods.
The essence of genetic trade was immersing yourself in a new culture, learning the ways of a new people. Since he’d been captured by the Scourge and imprisoned in their Fathership only a few days after being reassigned to the Kindred ship orbiting Earth’s moon, he had a lot of catching up to do. Previously he and Sylvan had been stationed on Tranq Prime but there was really nothing to do there—the genetic trade had been completed long ago and Baird didn’t care for the cold, aloof people that inhabited the planet.
For Sylvan it was a different matter because his mother had been a native of Tranq. She had died when he was very young and their father had moved on to the next Kindred trade world, Rageron, and claimed Baird’s mother, a native of that planet, as his second bride. When she had also died, the victim of a senseless and brutal tribal war on the jungle planet, their father had left and resettled his small family on the third trade world of Twin Moons. There he took his third and final bride, a widow with two sons of her own to raise of the Twin Kindred kind.
Baird’s childhood had been filled with longing for a mother he barely remembered. According to his father she’d been a fiery beauty with a temper who had never backed down from anyone. Baird liked to think he’d inherited his determination from her.
Because their stepmother was busy raising her own sons, he and Sylvan had turned to each other for support and friendship and had grown much closer than anyone would believe two such different warriors could. Close enough that after Sylvan’s tragedy on Tranq Prime, Baird had agreed to go with his half-brother to join the new trade.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Earth had been besieged by the Scourge and the Kindred were ripe for another genetic trade. But the Scourge were putting up a much more determined fight than anyone had expected. Some among the Kindred speculated that they were after something here on the small blue and green planet. Something more specific than their usual planetary rape and destruction.
There was talk of a prophesy that the Scourge with their strange, twisted religion, believed would come to pass. Baird had heard whispers of it in the long, dreary, painful months he spent aboard their Fathership but he’d been too distracted by his own agony and the dreams he’d shared with Olivia to pay much attention. Now he wished he’d listened more carefully when his captors spoke in their ugly, hissing tongue. The Kindred High Council were convening to discuss what was going on and he was scheduled to appear before them soon.
Normally a warrior going through his bonding period would have been exempt from anything but spending time with his new bride but, as he had told Olivia earlier, they were in the middle of a war. Of course he would much rather have spent every spare minute with the woman he loved and hoped to keep with him forever but Baird couldn’t ignore his duty—no Kindred could.
With an effort he shook off the grim thoughts of war and duty and went back to preparing the late-day meal. He didn’t mind cooking—it was considered a necessary skill for a Kindred male who wanted to bond with his bride—but somehow things just weren’t looking quite right.
Baird didn’t understand. He’d followed all the instructions the clerk in the Earth brides section of the market had given him. First he’d taken the large round bread disk called a crust and spread it with the red sauce from the glass container. Next he poured the rubbery white shredded stuff from the colorful plastic bag over the sauce. To finish, he added human meats and produce from the metal cylinders. But the finished product didn’t look very much like what he’d observed Olivia eating when he’d watched her in his dreams. In fact, it looked terrible—like something he wouldn’t even feed Bebo. Not that the picky little zicther would eat anything but the special food that came pre-prepared from him all the way from Rageron.
Come to think of it, even Bebo’s special food looked better than the strange human dish Baird had attempted to prepare. Well maybe it just needs to be cooked. The clerk did say to serve it hot, he reasoned with himself. Handling it carefully, he slid the broad disk filled with toppings onto the wave’s bottom surface. Then, grasping a recessed handle above his head he pulled a long, square sheet of shiny tempered metal that was no thicker than a piece of paper out of the wall—the wave’s top. He positioned it exactly over the round crust and its colorful toppings and then took a step back.
“Cook medium,” he said in the same authoritative voice he used with the lights. Immediately ten thousand pinkish-red microfine rays were emitted from the undersurface of the thin shiny sheet of metal. Baird watched in surprise as the white rubbery shreds suddenly melted and began to bubble and drip off the sides of the crust in an oily ooze.
Disgusting! Did humans really like this stuff? And yet he knew from watching her dreams that it was Olivia’s favorite food—or one of them, anyway.
She was also fond of an after-meal sweet that was frozen and had to be rolled into a ball using a special scooping utensil. Another favorite was tiny raw pieces of sea dwelling animals wrapped in a white sticky substance made up of many tiny grains, but that had looked too complicated to Baird. The clerk had assured him than anyone could make the dish he’d bought ingredients for—he’d sworn that it was practically mistake proof. But looking at the oozing, dripping crust and unappetizing toppings, Baird wasn’t so sure that the whole thing wasn’t a big mistake.
He’d wanted to be romantic and impress his new bride by making her favorite dishes during the first week of their claiming period but maybe it would have been a better idea to take her out to an eatery instead. He knew of several aboard the ship that catered to different Earth cuisines. Others specialized in foods from the other three t
rade planets and the Kindred home world respectively. Maybe he should have taken her to one of those…
“Well, I take it dinner is served.”
Baird had been deep in thought and her voice behind him startled him. He turned to see his new bride looking considerably more self-composed though regrettably less exposed. Olivia was wearing the dark crimson shirt he’d taken off earlier and this time she’d taken care to fasten it. It was a little low in the neck and the sleeves fell well past her wrists while the bottom hem reached almost to her knees. She was standing with her arms crossed over her full breasts, watching what he was doing with interest.
“Yes, I just finished it.” Trying to quiet his misgivings, Baird motioned to his creation. “I made it just for you. Your favorite—pizza.”
Chapter Eleven
“Pizza?” Liv looked doubtfully at the thing he was pointing at. It looked like he’d taken a premade crust and dumped everything under the sun on it before baking it. She could see dribbles of sauce and he’d used plenty of cheese which was all right. But on top of that he’d layered chunks of canned salmon, green beans, corn, lima beans, and…Dear God, is that fruit cocktail?
Liv swallowed a sudden lump in her throat as she looked at the nauseating mess. Then she looked back up at Baird’s hopeful face and knew she couldn’t say a word. As irritating and arrogant as the big Kindred warrior was, he’d obviously tried hard and she just couldn’t bring herself to hurt his feelings.
“Are you hungry?” He gave her a hopeful smile.
“Uh…starved.” She tried to smile back but it wasn’t easy.
“Good. We’ll eat.” He escorted her to a small table in the far corner of the food-prep area—what Liv supposed was the Kindred version of a breakfast nook. The table had a round bench running all the way around it and Baird seated her courteously before going back to cut up the thing he’d claimed was a pizza. She sat at the plain grey metal table and reflected that it was obvious this furniture was made for people much larger than humans. The table top came up to her chest and that, combined with the fact that her legs were dangling a good three inches above the floor, made her feel like a little kid at the grown-up’s table.