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He bent his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Her lips parted on a soft sigh, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips to explore the warm, sweet heat of her mouth.

She kissed him back eagerly, her hands sliding up his chest to twine around his neck. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her small frame as her body pressed against the hard planes of his. Her scent surrounded him, intoxicatingly sweet, and he wanted nothing more than to taste every inch of her.

CHAPTER NINE

Kara was lost in the kiss when Thraxar suddenly pulled back, staring down at her face with an unreadable expression before he took a step back.

“I apologize,” he said gruffly. “I did not mean to… take advantage of the situation.”

“Take advantage?” She blinked, then shook her head. “You didn’t. I wanted that.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice low. “As a distraction from your troubles? An escape from the uncertainty of your future?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her eyes searching his face. “But maybe it’s just you. You make me feel safe in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. And I’m… attracted to you.”

“You do not know me,” he said. “I have done things in the past that you would find abhorrent.”

“I doubt that,” she said, but he shook his head.

“I told you I was a mercenary. I have fought and killed.”

“Have you ever killed an innocent person?”

“Of course not,” he growled, and she smiled.

“Then I do not find your former profession as abhorrent as you seem to think. Do you want me to leave?”

She expected him to say yes, but he shook his head. She returned to the couch and patted the space next to her. After another long pause he joined her and they sipped their drinks in silence.

“And you?” he asked finally. “Before the asteroid, what was your life?”

“Ordinary. I worked long shifts at a hospital. Came home to Rory. We had a small apartment in a decent neighborhood. Nothing special, but it was ours. Our neighbor was an older woman who took care of Rory while I worked. She was wonderful. I wonder what she thinks happened to us.” The memory of their former life felt distant now, like something she’d read about rather than lived. “Once the Vedeckians took us, I was only focused on survival.”

“You did more than survive. You protected your son in a place designed to destroy such bonds.”

She shrugged, uncomfortable with his admiration. “What choice did I have?”

“Many would have broken. You did not.”

“The way you talk about yourself. Like you’re just… a trader. Nothing special.” She gestured with her glass. “But you fought pirates to deliver medicine. You knocked out that guard to protect us. You’re risking your ship and your freedom to help complete strangers.”

“These are not exceptional actions. They are merely correct ones.”

“In my experience, doing the right thing when it costs you something is pretty exceptional.”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable with her assessment. “You credit me with more virtue than I possess.”

“I doubt that.” She finished her drink, feeling the pleasant warmth of the alcohol spreading through her limbs. “But I’velearned to trust my judgment about people. It’s kept Rory and me alive this long.”

Thraxar fell silent, his expression unreadable. Kara found herself studying him again—the strong line of his jaw, the alert, intelligent eyes, the careful way he held himself, as if constantly aware of his size and strength. She wondered how long it had been since anyone had touched him with kindness rather than violence.

The thought created an ache in her chest that had nothing to do with physical attraction and everything to do with recognition. She knew what it was to be alone, to hold yourself apart from others because connection meant vulnerability.

“It’s getting late,” she said finally, setting down her empty glass. “I should check on Rory.”

Thraxar nodded, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. “Of course. Thank you for the conversation. It has been… most pleasant.”

“It has.” She stood as well, suddenly aware of how close they were in the small lounge area. His height made her feel small in a way that wasn’t threatening, just… different. “And thank you for the drink. And for listening.”