WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series Alana Khan (i like reading TXT) 📖

I nod, still dumbstruck by the electricity of his touch. When he tugs me toward the exit, I almost pull back. Is he going to yank me toward his cabin with no more preliminaries than this? But I don’t resist. I follow.

Instead of heading to the dorm wing, though, I follow him to the end of a different hallway. Grace brought me here once. I loved it, but never took the time to return. She called it the solarium. It’s a bullet-shaped room with windows on all sides except the wall with the doorway from which we enter. Even the roof is clear and reminds us we’re floating among the stars themselves.

The apprehension I’d experienced when I thought he was dragging me to his room disappears. Every nervous cell in my body stands down. It’s silent in here, made even more so when he turns off all the lights. The room is only illuminated by the red of the running lights on the rear exterior of the ship.

We still haven’t spoken one substantive word in over a month. He leads me to a comfy couch at the back of the room. We sit side by side and gaze out at the stars.

“Beautiful,” I say on a sigh.

“I like it here,” he responds.

At times I feel his gaze on me, but mostly we just watch the black velvet canvas strewn with diamonds. That’s what it seems like to me. The stars twinkle like gemstones. There’s a blue and purple nebula off to our right reminding us just how vast the universe is.

Reaching over, he uses one finger to lift my chin and tip my head toward him. I don’t understand how, but in this dim light, his golden eyes swirl with an otherworldly glow.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, cocking his head in the manner I find so adorable.

“I never—” I protest, but cut myself off. I didn’t set honesty as my intention earlier, but I should have. “I know I acted mad, Bayne, but it was driven by shame.”

“I’ve spoken with several females on board. I never breathed a word you would consider private, but I asked about the situation in general. They all agreed it would be hard to tolerate. Maddie said it would be like having a suitor read your diary before a first date. I had no idea what a diary or a first date was but she said it would put the female at a distinct disadvantage. I apologize.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong.” I cup his cheek with my palm as I inspect him. Prominent cheekbones, furred pelt, canines that peek out when he says certain letters, and those gorgeous eyes.

“Do you really believe that?” he asks, penetrating me with his gaze.

“Now I do. It took me a while.”

“I’ve learned a lot since we talked last.” He mirrors me, his calloused palm on my cheek. I hold his hand close to me so he can’t slip away.

“Like what”

“A little cooking, baking, and music-making. A moment of star-charting—I will not make a habit of that, I found it a terrible combination of difficult and boring. A lot of fighting. Weapons, shooting, and swordplay. When to attack, when to retreat. What arms work best for what type of adversary. Many other things. I had a lot to catch up on.”

“Yes, you did. Do you feel you’ve caught up?”

“No. Not nearly. But I’m certain I will. One thing I never learned the answer to, though.”

“What’s that?”

By the heated look on his face, I know this is going to be important. I also know I stepped into a trap.

“After how many hoaras is it not considered rude to ask a female to have sex?” 

My gaze has never left his, but I try to pierce deeper, as if things are written there that hold all the answers.

That’s when he does it. He hits me with a thousand-watt smile. It gives me all the information I need. He was serious! But he’s tempered it with humor. He’s right, he has learned a lot in the last month.

“I’ll need a computer,” I tell him seriously, then give him my own megawatt smile. “There are some high-level calculations I’ll need to make. And,” I pet his cheek again, “I’d really have to like the guy.”

“So tell me, Willa. What would a guy have to do for you to really like him?”

“Well,” I tip my head and look up at the ceiling, “he’d have to take me to a solarium.”

“Yes?”

“And he’d have to look at me with affection.”

“Yes?”

“And he’d have to tell me about his life . . . over time of course, not all at once.”

“Yes?”

“And he’d dance with me.”

“So have I taken you to a solarium?”

“Yes.”

“And do I look at you with affection?”

“Oh yes. I see that now.” I lean a bit closer, part my lips, and silently will him to kiss me.

“And could I make a date with you to tell you about my life? There’s not much to tell, though. I remember almost nothing.” His gaze flashes to the floor for a moment.

“I’d like to make a date with you,” I say, making sure I fan him with my breath, a gentle reminder that my lips are parted and I’m waiting for our first kiss.

“And can I ask you to dance, Willa?”

Perhaps I’ll have to make the first move for the kiss. I think I made the poor guy wary.

“I’d love to dance with you, Bayne.”

He stands with a powerful grace I’ve noticed many times from afar and he pulls me from my seat. I thought he’d escort me back to the dining room where there are other people, and, more importantly, music. But he pulls me