Page 10 of Rescued by the Alien Bull Rider (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #6)

ZOHRO

I watched to make sure Jolene made it safely inside before I went looking for Wyn. My wounds weren’t actively bleeding, and I could no longer hear the genka hurling itself at the fencing, so I’d bandage them later. Right now, I wanted to retrieve Jolene’s things and get Wyn settled for the night.

I walked in a daze, the past rushing up against the present and curdling bitterly. Jolene’s story and my sister Meryn’s fate were so similar as to seem almost cruelly staged. Like a punishment for my past failings.

Both Jolene and Meryn had been impregnated and subsequently abandoned by putrid and unworthy scoundrels.

Fifteen cycles and spans of stars between them, but somehow both my Zabrian sister and the human woman I was now engaged to had come to end up at the same place.

Males without honour, it seemed, were facets of all worlds.

Or, at least, of my old world. And Jolene’s.

Fifteen cycles…

By the empire, Meryn’s son would now be older than I was when I was convicted and exiled.

But the similarities between Jolene and Meryn ended with the pregnancy and abandonment.

They were strikingly different women. Meryn was like our father – reserved.

An enormously skilled surgeon; kind in a quiet, sturdy sort of way; deeply introspective and intensely thoughtful.

She did not speak without careful consideration of every word and she did not show emotion easily.

The happiest I ever saw her was early in her courtship with Xander.

The only times I ever saw sorrow in her were when our father died.

And when Xander left her.

But Jolene…

My hide warmed at the mere thought of her.

The simple sound of her name in my head was enough to make my gut swoop, then tighten.

Where Meryn had always been a calming influence in my world, Jolene was like a bolt of pure, ecstatic sensation.

Words fell happily out of her mouth like she’d never run out of them.

She smiled endlessly, as if it cost her nothing.

Surprise, fear, and worry all showed themselves freely on her face, as if it had never occurred to her to hide any of them from me.

I would not marry her as some kind of twisted alleviation of my guilt – providing a familial life for her when I could not do so for Meryn. I wanted her because I wanted her. I’d wanted her before I knew her fate had so closely mirrored my sister’s.

And I still wanted her after.

I’d probably still want her even if she’d murdered someone.

My spine tightened. My breath scraped my throat.

Blast!

She had not come here through the official channels. She’d had no idea who Tasha was when I’d mentioned her. Did she know about my conviction?

Likely not, I realized sourly. Otherwise she would not have brought up the subject of marriage to me so swiftly. Not with her child’s safety at stake. The other human women who’d agreed to marry their convict husbands didn’t have a baby in their belly they were responsible for.

I spotted Wyn and stalked towards her, trying to decide how, exactly, I was going to tell Jolene that the man she’d just agreed to marry was a convicted murderer.

I did plan to tell her, whether I found the words or not, immediately upon my return to the house.

It was not my fault she was asleep when I arrived.

I considered waking her when I found her.

But the sight of her lying so peacefully – and prettily – in my bed was so arresting that, instead, I merely stood in my room and stared at her.

It was rather bold of her, I thought, to have stripped down the way she had and crawled into the bed without me even being here.

Up until this moment, it had been my bed alone.

I’d never even had anyone else inside this room. Until now.

Jolene lay on her side, her hair fanning out across my pillow. The quilt was pulled up to her chin, but one bare arm was uncovered. It led up to a similarly naked shoulder, drawing my eye to her neck. I saw no straps, no edges of clothing at all.

Nude?

I nearly fell over at the thought.

Blaming my suddenly swimming brain firmly on the blow to the head I’d taken earlier and the blood loss (no matter how slight), I returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning and dressing my wounds.

Two of the gashes on my chest required sutures, which I completed with swift competence despite the injuries to my dominant hand.

Those wounds on my palm I merely wrapped in clean bandages.

Then, I cleaned myself with cold water, and I combed my hair and scrubbed my fangs.

When I was finished, I stood naked and damp in the kitchen, strangely rooted to the spot.

It was my bedroom, I reasoned. And my bed. I had every right to go and join Jolene in there, especially as there were no other beds, and she’d claimed the only one without even bothering to ask. Since it was the only bed, she must have known I would come and sleep there at some point, too.

But what if she didn’t realize it was the only bed? What if she thought I was some generous, obnoxiously social sort of Zabrian who invited friends to stay with him sometimes. The sort of man who’d need a guest bedroom, for the empire’s sake!

She did not yet know that I did not have any friends. Not anymore. Not after my father died and I was cut off from Meryn forever.

But, somehow, I did have a wife. Or, a woman who would become my wife soon. If she still wanted me after she found out what I was. What I’d done.

I must tell her now.

If she knew about my past, she might not agree to sleep so unguardedly beneath my roof.

She might ask to leave immediately.

Not that such a thing would be possible. It would take some time for the warden to get here, and she’d already refused to ride his slicer due to her condition, which I now surmised was her pregnancy.

Soundlessly, I returned to the bedroom.

Jolene had shifted in her sleep. She now lay upon her back. Beneath the quilt I could see the taut, round swell of her abdomen, something I had not noticed in her bulky clothing before. I frowned, recalling something I’d read in the short section on human pregnancy in the book Tasha wrote.

“You cannot sleep upon your back,” I said, striding to the edge of the bed. Jolene did not heed me. Her only reply was a bizarre snort of sound that had no right to be as disarmingly cute as it was.

“You are putting yourself and your fetus at risk due to reduced blood flow,” I informed her sternly. Still, she did not wake. Nor did she roll over.

I would have to do it myself.

Which would involve touching her body. Without her clothing.

And without her permission.

Lust and shame fanned flames high inside me. I attempted to douse them by reminding myself that, no matter the outcome of my life, I was still a doctor. If her health was in danger, then I had a duty to fix it. Surely there could be nothing perverse in that!

I leaned closer and watched with lurid fascination as the moonlight coming through the window made my shadow stretch over her.

My throat tightened, and my groin heated, as I watched my shadow and wondered what it might feel like to do such a thing with my real body. To feel her soft human heat beneath me.

As long as she isn’t lying flat on her back!

I slipped the fingers of my left hand beneath her right shoulder, freezing for a moment at the feeling of her bare skin against mine.

Incredibly warm. Indescribably soft. Scattered, just as her face was, with tiny splotches of human melanin that I had the sudden, bizarre urge to trace with my tips of my fingers.

Followed by my tongue.

Roll her over and be done with it.

I did so, exerting pressure at her shoulder until she moved onto her left side. But as soon as I removed my hand, the blasted female rolled right back.

“What the blazes are you doing?” I asked her irritably. “As a medical professional, I cannot abide this. And as your…”

As her what? Not her husband yet. Maybe not her husband ever, once she woke up and learned the truth.

“I am a convicted murderer, you know,” I growled as I once again rolled her over and she once again, infuriatingly, rolled back. But even that statement could not convince her sleeping form to listen to me.

At least now no one can say I didn’t tell her…

Even if she wasn’t exactly awake to hear it.

This was not working. Every time I let go of Jolene, like a restless shuldu suddenly released from its stall, she just rolled right back to where she’d been before. Which not only was a health risk, but it also meant she was taking up almost the entire blasted bed.

I need something to keep her in place. Something to prop against her back as she lays on her side…

I did not have any extra pillows that would be sturdy enough. And there wouldn’t be much room in the bed left for me if I put something big and heavy enough to hold her in place.

Which left…

Me.

I flushed with a feverish combination of agitation and desire at the idea of using my own body as a wall behind hers. I’d have to be pressed right up against her to keep her from rolling over again. Her back would be pressed all along my front. My cock-

I nearly tripped over my own tail in my haste to move away from the bed. All at once, my shaft was rigid, so suddenly swollen that it nearly hurt. My cocktail writhed, needing to curl, to claim.

I stared down at my wayward genitals, trying to menace them back into submission with little success.

As I left the room in search of other solutions, it began to truly hit me that having a human wife – a heavily pregnant one, at that – was going to be far more inconvenient than I’d anticipated.

Which was really saying something. Because I’d already anticipated astronomical levels of inconvenience. And so far, Jolene had surpassed all my grimmest imaginings.

But she’d also smiled at me.

And somehow, empire help me, I had a feeling that might make it all worthwhile.