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Makenna seemed to like it. She sighed contentedly and nuzzled her cheek against his chest again, relaxing in his arms as though she felt that she had found a safe haven.

Bard wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, with the petite, curvy little female cradled in his lap. He stroked her hair and her back through the thin nightshirt and hummed the lullaby until her breathing became slow and steady. Then, as gently as he could, he slipped her back under the covers.

Thinking she was asleep, he was about to leave when she reached for him, putting one small hand on his arm to stop him.

“Bard not leave Makenna,” she said, her voice sleepy but also pleading. “Not leave alone. Not.”

“Well, hell, baby girl…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He really shouldn’t slide under the covers and lay down beside her, he told himself. But she was upset and afraid in a strange place and he didn’t want to be woken by screams again. And besides, it would only be until she actually went to sleep, then he could slip out and go back to his own bed…right?

“Bard stay?” she asked, interrupting his internal debate. She looked up at him, her eyes pools of pleading in the dim room. “Bard stay with Makenna?”

“All right,” Bard said, finally making a decision. “But only for a little while, baby girl—until you fall back asleep.”

With a sigh, he slid under the covers, laying on his back and making sure to keep to his side of the bed.

But that apparently wasn’t good enough for Makenna. She rolled over and snuggled against him at once, insinuating her soft, curvy body under his left arm and molding herself to his side. Then she sighed contentedly and rubbed her cheek against his chest, inhaling deeply, as though she liked the way he smelled.

As it happened, Bard liked the way she smelled too—a little too much, he thought. There was a scent about her like a female in heat and in fact, parts of her body did seem to be extra warm. He could feel the tight points of her nipples against his side and they were definitely warmer than the rest of her. He frowned—was that normal for her kind of humanoid?

Of course, there was no way to ask—not even if he’d had perfect command of her language, which he certainly did not. What could he do, say—“Hey, why are your nipples getting hot?”

Bard snorted to himself. Yeah, that would go over really well. Nothing creepy about asking a woman he had only met earlier that night about her nipples.

You shouldn’t be thinking about her nipples at all, he lectured himself. Just try to relax and wait until she goes to sleep. Then you can slip out and go back to your own bed.

And, trying to ignore the ripe, curvy female body pressed against his own, he closed his eyes and attempted to think of something else—anything else at all.

13

She felt so wonderfully warm and safe with Bard’s muscular arm around her and his big body pressed to hers, Makenna thought sleepily. He had been so kind and comforting after that terrible nightmare she’d had, cradling her and humming to her. She liked the sound of his deep, rumbling voice as he hummed. But she liked being pressed against him as he held her even more.

He smells so good, she thought, inhaling deeply again. Some dark, masculine spice that reminded her of walking through a forest at night, for some reason. She took another deep breath, rubbing her cheek against his broad, bare chest. The fur on his chest tickled her cheek a bit but she didn’t mind—in fact, she really liked it. A hairy chest was a very masculine feature in her culture and a man wasn’t really considered a man unless he had some hair on his chest.

He’s certainly much more manly than Prentor ever was, she thought drowsily, remembering the farmer her brother had wanted her to marry. I’m so glad I waited for him—waited for the right man to help me through my ripening.

Speaking of her ripening, every deep breath she took of Bard’s spicy scent seemed to be accelerating it. She could feel her nipples and her pussy throbbing and aching with need. Feeling restless, she shifted against the big body, trying to get more comfortable. She wished she could ask Bard to help her, but he had seemed unwilling to do that earlier and she was afraid if she asked him again, he might leave her alone in the big bed, in the dark and not come back.

Go to sleep, she told herself. It’s late, you can worry about all of this in the morning.

But sleep wouldn’t come and Makenna felt more and more restless. She could feel her ripening accelerating and she knew it was probably because she was lying so close to the man her body had chosen. She could almost hear that little voice whispering to her, He’s the one! Touch him…let him touch you! You need his hands on you—you need skin contact with him—your ripening demands it!

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