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When Aklan arrived at her office a few minutes later, Sonja had herself well in hand.

Or thought she did until the closed the door behind him and he leveled that hungry stare on the pulse fluttering in her throat. Heat pooled between her thighs. Oh, that look held such promise, days and days of promise.

She crossed her legs under her desk, which only made the throbbing sensation worse, and pasted a professional smile on her mouth. “Hey. Thanks for coming by.”

“I am at your disposal, pjora-la .” His voice held a soft chide and a hint of the hunger bleeding into his gaze. “You wished to see me?”

“I did. Mr. Nicholson asked me to go over the cultural brief you gave us when you arrived.”

Aklan glanced around the room, no doubt taking in the bare concrete block walls, the battered desk, the empty metal bookshelves at her back. Like her quarters, her office was miniscule, barely wide enough to hold the desk, let alone the two chairs and shelving. It was private, though, one of only two such offices made available to Mike’s staff. The others had been consigned to the conference room stretching between her office and Mike’s. Unfortunately, the only entrance to the private offices was through that conference room. Anywhere else, that setup would’ve made zero sense, but in Area 51, it was par for the course.

Aklan’s gaze settled on her again. “Very well. Shall we begin?”

“Of course. Have a seat, please.” She gestured to the chair across from her, waited for him to sit, then opened the file containing a paper copy of the document the Xeruvians had given them along with other pertinent items. “Do you have a picture of your planet? We’ve not been able to capture close-up images of an extrasolar planet yet.”

“If it pleases you, we can add an exchange of astronomical data to the negotiations.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“As for Zephyria, if I may?” He lifted his left hand and rolled it over, displaying the device on his wrist.

Her expression softened into a smile. “You don’t have to ask permission to approach me, Aklan. I thought we cleared that up.”

“My understanding of human culture is that personal time and work time remain separate.”

Observant bugger, wasn’t he?

She gestured him over to her side of the desk and swiveled her chair toward him. He rose and slid between the wall and her desk, then knelt beside her, his right arm draped over her shoulders, his left wrist hovering in front of her. His scent and warmth hit her at once, nearly overwhelming her. She was acutely aware of his fingers splayed across her shoulder, of his thigh brushing her shin, of the lethal tip of one horn positioned only inches from her temple. Even kneeling, he towered over her, making her feel petite by comparison. He surrounded her, curving around her protectively, sheltering her from…what? Her office’s industrial blandness? The barely audible chatter of her colleagues in the outer room?

Amused, she turned a smile on him, only to find his face inches from her own. The world faded until it included only this. His touch, his strength, the desire swirling between them.

“ Pjora-la ,” he said, his voice a breathy growl. “I have dreamed of having you here.”

“Aklan,” she responded, her own voice a bare whisper.

Unable to resist, she traced her fingers across the strong line of his jaw. His skin was smooth under her fingertips, tougher than a human’s, yet remarkably warm and silky. He turned his face into her hand, flicked the tip of his tongue along her palm, sparking the most delicious feeling inside her.

“What does it feel like?” she murmured. “The mating thing.”

“The mating instinct?”

“Yes.”

“It is…everything. When our eyes met for the first time, I knew you were meant for me, and I for you, with a certainty born in my soul.” He nuzzled her palm, his eyes still closed, as if he were savoring her touch. “Instinct is the beginning, the catalyst. Instinct guides us to the one best suited for us, the one who will give our children the best chance of survival.”

When he said children , a low heat throbbed through her, and for a moment she felt him moving above her, moving in her. Filling her with his seed.

Growing heavy with child, his hand cupping her rounded stomach gently, protectively.

“You feel it, too.”

His voice startled her out of the reverie, and her gaze flew to his. His eyes were open now, assessing her with that feral heat. Tell me true , that look said, and she was helpless to deny him.

“I feel something,” she admitted.

“Then you must know what the instinct demands of us.”

She shook her head. “Only what you’ve told me.”

“Say it,” he demanded roughly. “Say what must be done.”

“R-run,” she stuttered. “Let you chase me.”

“Until you are mine. Say it!”

She gasped. “Aklan!”

His hands tugged her against him, one at her waist, the other pressing insistently against her back. “Say it, pjora-la ! Give me this much.”

“Until I’m—” She swallowed hard, afraid to speak the words. Afraid that if she said them out loud, she would be lost to him, forever, when she already felt so much. “I can’t.”

“ Pjora-la ,” he crooned, his forehead touching hers. “Do you know why I could not accept your challenge?”

She shook her head once.

“If I had faced you there, in an honor duel, it would have been the same as chasing you. When I defeated you, and I would conquer you,” he growled fiercely, “I would have marked you as a mate marks his beloved, and forced you to do the same to me. I would have taken you then and there, fallen upon you as an animal would, stripped you of every hesitation, every doubt. I need this, pjora-la . My beloved. I need to touch you, to feel you moving under me, to bring you into my home, to worship and protect you.

“And yet even now, I find myself unwilling to bend you to my will. It is not our way, pjora-la . You must believe me. Our mates must come first. Male or female, warrior or wife, such makes no difference. We are driven to place our mate’s needs above our own. I need you, pjora-la , more than I have ever needed anyone, but you—you are human. Your needs remain a mystery to me. And so, I must master the instinct urging me to claim you now in every way possible, so that you may have time to come to me in your own way, for only when you find certainty may my own soul be fulfilled.”

“Aklan,” she breathed, blinking back the tears pricking her eyes. “What doubts can I have when you say things like that?”

“As many as humans can imagine, I daresay.”

She laughed at the wry rejoinder, laughed because he made her feel dizzy and safe and cherished. He had spoken so eloquently of needs and respect that she could find no words to share what was in her heart, to tell him that humans had the same needs: to love and to be loved, to respect their partner and be respected in turn, to find that precarious balance between two halves of the greater whole.

Humans and Xeruvians were not so different after all.

The words lodged in her throat, refusing to be spoken, and so she found a way to show him instead.

“Kiss me,” she said, and didn’t wait for him to comply, simply tilted her head and crossed the few inches remaining between them. His lips were warm against hers, pliant, the touch so electric, she felt it in every cell of her being. She flicked her tongue against the seam of his mouth, then he opened for her and took control, devouring her, demanding. Conquering.

If this is heaven , she thought dimly, I never want it to end .

Aklan broke the kiss abruptly and touched his forehead to hers, his breaths surprisingly even. “Someone is coming.”

The door opened, startling Sonja so much she would’ve fallen off the edge of her chair if not for Aklan’s firm grip. She turned wide eyes on Missy, who stood framed in the doorway, glancing between the two of them.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Missy said.

Sonja managed a weak disbelieving snort and muttered, “I doubt it.”

“You wished to speak to Sonja?” Aklan said, no trace of desire or need or conquering in his voice.

“Yes, but it can wait. Catch me when you’re done.”

Missy winked coyly and left.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Sonja sagged against Aklan. “She’s going to tease me mercilessly about getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar.”

His brow furrowed. “If your hand were in the cookie jar, I would not have been able to stop.”

Sonja’s eyes widened and she choked on her next breath. “I don’t even know what to do with that.”

“Do not fret. I have read many books on the subject of human sexuality and will gladly direct you.”

She reared back long enough to study his expression, caught the mischief in his gaze, and grinned. He was making a joke. By golly, he’d finally gotten the hang of human humor.

“ You ,” she breathed, then dissolved into post-kissing giggles. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Yes, you do, beloved.”

Then he kissed her again and proved himself right.