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My gaze probes hers as I wish for the thousandth time she had a functioning translator. It’s my fondest wish she could hear my heartfelt apology.

I scoot closer and touch her cheek with exquisite softness. She doesn’t understand my words, perhaps she can comprehend my touch, the look in my eyes.

I gather her in my arms and pull her onto my lap, ignoring the pain when I accidentally drag her across my wound. I just hold her tight and croon.

When she pulls back to examine my face, I try to explain with the few Earth words I know.

“Lumina. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

I rock us both side to side. “Sorry. Sorry. Zorriss shamispah .”

Does she understand me? I kiss her neck, her cheek, her nose, her forehead.

I try to make the kisses as nonsexual as I can.

I don’t want her to think this is about coupling.

I want her to know this is about my change of heart and my sincerest apologies.

These aren’t the desperate, sensual, provocative kisses we usually share. They’re sweet. Caring.

I grab her chin between my thumb and fingers and tip her head so she can look into my eyes. Perhaps she can read my expression. I command my features to display kindness and compassion and so much contrition.

“Your generosity humbles me. I was so harsh to you and you never failed to be kind. How can I ever repay you? How can I ever apologize enough?”

“Are you apologizing?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Sorry.” I nod emphatically.

“For being mean?”

I nod, never veering my gaze from hers.

“You misunderstood something?”

I nod.

“It’s cleared up now?”

“Yes, Lumina. Yes.”

Her muscles slacken and she leans her head on my shoulder.

“I don’t think I even admitted to myself how hard these last days were on me. You were so mean,” her voice sounds so sad.

I was. How can she bear to even look at me?

“Zoriss sorry.”

Tears spill from her eyes. Perhaps she’s allowing herself to release the emotions she’s held inside since the first time I told her how despicable she was.

I put one finger under the lovely point of her chin, tip her head toward me, and lick her tears from her cheeks, just as I did our first night together.

“Sorry,” I say in a soft, heartfelt whisper.

I’m the stupidest male in the galaxy. Here I’ve been in enforced intimacy with a beautiful female whose fondest dream was to save enough money to legally mate a willing Draalian male.

She so clearly wanted me. She’s obviously a good person who risked her safety to drag me from the capsule and haul me back to shelter.

She could have hiked out of this canyon days ago, but she didn’t. To help me. I was too weak to get my own water from the river. She shared her food with me.

And how did I repay her kindness? How many times did I call her despicable? How many ways did I try to communicate how little I valued her? And how many times did I take advantage of how generously she shared her body heat with me, despite knowing how much I disliked her?

And allowing me to sheath myself in her?

How many times did she allow me inside the private warmth of her body?

And how many times did I thank her? I don’t know the answer to any of those questions, except the last. The answer to that is none.

I never let her know how much I valued her generosity.

How spectacular it was to be allowed to bring her pleasure.

“Thank you, Lumina. Thank you a thousand times. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me I promise I will make this up to you.”

Look at her. This female who has every right to hate me is looking at me with trust.

“I haven’t earned your trust, pretty human, but I will. I swear I will do whatever is in my power to make up for every hurtful word and glance.”

I stand, feeling stronger now that things are cleared between us.

Reaching out my hand, I say, “Let’s get to your vehicle. I want you to get a translator so you can hear every word of the apology I owe you.”

“You’re ready?” she asks.

I nod.

“You don’t hate me anymore?”

“Sorry,” I say in her language, hoping the earnest expression on my face conveys my sincerity.

She retrieves her gloves from where she laid them on her pack, then embarks up the ravine. It’s so steep at this point we have to cling to the side of the wall, grasping shrubs so we don’t tumble down.

I don’t even see what caused it, but all of a sudden Lumina topples past me with a sharp cry of fright and lands in a crumpled heap twenty feet below me. When I see her lifeless body, my heart squeezes in my chest.

I scramble after her, my knees pistoning, taking the impact so I can race faster. Is she dead? She’s not moving. Placing my fingers on her carotid, I feel a pulse, but she’s unconscious.

My energy was flagging. I was close to torpor before we began the ascent, and could feel myself weakening as the climb progressed. But clearing things up between us gives me strength. And now, knowing she needs me, I’m energized.

My hands skim along her limbs as I check to see what’s broken. Nothing, although she must have hit her head.

I carefully lift her and heave her over my shoulder. She makes a little moan, but I don’t have time to soothe her. I scramble at my fastest speed to traverse the rough terrain.

One hand clutches her legs to my torso, the other grasps anything I can hold onto as I pull myself up the steep canyon. Even though I’m low on energy, I spare what little I have to talk to her.

“I’m going to get you help, Lumina. How can I ever repay you for your sweetness and generosity? I’ll do anything I can to show you how repentant I am for the way I treated you. Just wake up.”

I slip, losing my foothold and sliding at least ten feet back down. All I can think of as time slows and I experience every bump and jolt is how not to lose my hold on the female in my arms and how to protect her if I fall.

I come to a skidding stop, still on my feet, and immediately charge upward again.

“I’m going to make all of this up to you,” I vow.

When I’m only a few feet from the top, I have to use both hands to pull myself up as I balance her on my shoulder. Eventually, I’m standing on flat ground, gasping for breath, swaying with fatigue, Lumina held in both my arms.

There are three vehicles in the lot. I don’t know which is hers. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to operate it or where to take her.

I’ve been in battle against our enemies before—many times—yet I’ve never experienced panic. But I’m panicking now. My heart pounds and fear circles in my belly. Lumina needs immediate medical attention and I’m powerless to make that happen.

She called this a wilderness area. What if these vehicles are abandoned, or if their owners are going to be hiking in the canyon for another week?

It’s obvious Lumina has a concussion but I don’t see any signs of civilization from here, and odds aren’t good that I could carry her very far. Torpor and exhaustion are setting in.

I hear gravel crunching behind me and whip around to see what danger is hurtling at us now. It’s a female in hiking gear, a large brown canine on a leash by her side. The female’s eyes and mouth open in fear as she looks at me.

I know I look odd in my blue cape and rag shoes. Lumina, comatose in my arms, probably doesn’t give this female confidence, either.

“Help,” I say, assuming she won’t understand me, but hoping she hears the desperation in my voice.

“Hiking injury?” She doesn’t approach, but doesn’t run from me, either.

“Lumina fell. She must have hit her head.” Does this female understand me?

“Hurry. Climb in my vehicle and I’ll rush you to the hospital.”

If I was alone, I would debate with myself about trusting this Earther. Except for Lumina, I still believe all Earth females only want my cock and my sperm. But I force those worries down and follow her. Lumina needs help.

The back seat is like a bench, so I gently set her on it, then slide in and place her head on my lap. I only now realize that my cocks are hanging out. No wonder the female is as leery of me as I am of her.

“I’m Skye, this is Poochie,” she says as she starts the vehicle. “I’ll get you to the nearest hospital.”

I take in the scenery as I watch it fly by. From what I’ve seen of it, Earth is a pretty planet. I just don’t trust its inhabitants.

It feels like an eternity before we arrive. Skye comm’d ahead, and there are two hover-stretchers waiting for us at the hospital doors.

After thanking Skye, I tell the staffers I don’t need a stretcher when they approach the vehicle.

“Honey,” an older female with blazing red hair says, “if you could see yourself right now, you wouldn’t argue. You look like death warmed over. Get on the stretcher. It’s not a request.”

Her hand is on her hip and she looks to be all business. For some reason, I don’t get the impression she means me any harm. I do what she says after I watch them gently ease Lumina onto her own stretcher.

When they rush us in two different directions, my anxiety rises.

“Don’t worry, honey. We’re going to take care of her. You both get your own team. You’re stuck with me. You’re my first Draalian, but I’ve studied up. How long since you basked?”

“This morning, but not for long.”

“You climbed up from the river in the canyon? How long were you there?”

“Six days.”

“You eat regularly?”

I shake my head. “We were low on food. I crash-landed. Lumina rescued me.”

They transfer me onto a heated bed, then cover me with a thin heated silver blanket that wraps me in a cocoon of warmth. For the first time since I landed on this forsaken planet, I’m not cold. I only realize now that a moment ago I actually moaned in pleasure.

They ask for our demographic information. I tell them I’m too new to Earth to know much more than my own name.

As two staff wash me, I resent their proximity as the smell of their arousal blooms on the air. Their bodies may be interested, but their hands are all business. While they’re performing their duties, the red-haired doctor examines my wound.