“I think you know how I feel about you, the admiration and respect…”

He stopped.

“No, damn it. I won’t dance around it any longer.” In spite of that, his next words seemed completely irrelevant. He gestured to the bed, to the embroidered image. “The Andrus symbol, the Rose and the Dragon. It’s the custom to call the head of security the Dragon—maybe I mentioned that. Did I? I can’t remember—and his lady the Rose. Unfortunately for this Dragon, his Rose is a Terran one, and…”

He stopped, grimacing with irritation before smiling sheepishly.

“Damn it, I’m doing it again. I… Oh, to hell with it. Miranda, Ik leif jou...and that’s it, in plain unadorned Gataen.”

For good measure, he repeated it again. In English. “My little Earthling, I…love…you!”

What could she say?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Miranda stood on tiptoe, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. When she could trust her voice, she stepped back to whisper, a little shakily, “It took you long enough to admit it. I was beginning to think I’d have to say it for you.”

“I’ve never had a mistress, Miranda. I don’t believe in that.” Now that he’d made his confession, Kit plowed on with determination. “I’ve always been a marriage or nothing man, but now I’m faced with something I can’t change. We can’t get married—you know that—and that’s not what I want for you. That’s never what I want for you, but…”

In that moment he looked so distressed, so dear, she smiled as he struggled to speak. The Master of the House of Andrus, its brave Dragon, was at a loss for words. Prudently, Miranda stayed silent.

“…I love you so much I’m willing to give up what I hold as a most serious moral ethic and ask you: will you stay with me, live with me, be my wife in everything but name?”

“Oh, Kit...” She didn’t get a chance to say more, as he put his arms around her and pulled her against him.

“Enough talk. It’s time to do something I’ve wanted to do from the moment I met you. You can give me your answer later.” He lifted her off the floor. “Pretend you’re back on the Frail, little Terran. You’ve just discovered you’ve been abducted by aliens.”

A hand went to the neck of her dress, toying with the fastenings.

“…and this big, bad alien wants to perform a probe…with your complete cooperation.”

Somehow, they undressed each other, a happy confused tumble of flying garments punctuated with more hugs and numerous kisses.

Kit tossed his gun over his shoulder. Shoes and boots landed in a chair. The bloody shirt joined dusty trousers on the floor, Miranda’s dress floating gracefully through the air to cover them…

...and then they were in Kit’s bed, his cool, golden body pressed against hers as she’d always wanted it to be, and he kissed her again. More of those rough kisses leaving her breathless but wanting the next. Expecting it to be the same and surprised to find it suddenly gentle, almost timid, before becoming a surge of opening mouths and tongues pressing in exploration.

Cool fingers trailed down her throat, teasing her skin. Miranda shivered and clung to him, clasping her arms around him and pressing her face against his chest, nuzzling into the thick, dark hair.

That made him give a short, quick laugh dying into a groan as her hands traveled downward. Her fingers grasped between muscular thighs through a tangle of crisp curls. He was aroused, rampant, and…alien.

Miranda hesitated, hands jerking away. Kit managed a soft laugh as he put a hand under her chin and tilted her head so she looked directly into his eyes.

“I told you I’m human, Miranda. Doesn’t this prove it?” He nodded downward, taking her hand and placing it on the thick shaft rising between them. “Gods, woman, I want you so very, very much.”

Her hands encircled and hesitated. His whisper urged her not to stop, and she began to stroke, caress, tease. Abruptly, his cold skin burned, blood rushing through it, the first warmth she’d felt in him.

Kit’s own hands weren’t idle.

One touched her breast, fingers tightening with long-unsatisfied desire. Miranda felt a flood of heat through her own body.

She wanted it to go on forever, didn’t want him to stop. With an impatient cry, Kit pressed her onto the pillows and settled himself against her.

There was only one moment of hesitation. His green eyes looked into her blue ones, earnest and loving. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

She nodded, afraid to speak. Did that matter? Would it keep what she so desperately wanted from happening?

“I swear, it’ll be the only time I’ll ever cause you pain.” Wrapping his arms around her, Kit thrust his body violently against hers.

Her cry was buried in his shoulder. Then, they were joined, and Kit kissed her again, licking away the tears on her cheeks. As she sobbed out her happiness, Miranda’s body arched to meet his.

The night and everything that had happened—all the fear, the hatred, the destruction—dissolved in a shattering mass of sensation and longing.