The Abduction (8 page)

“So that’s why you guys are bo
rn with stripes. Now it makes sense.” Samantha laughed, leaning her elbows on the table. “And the purring…”

Rikis
t’s fingers stopped on their slow slide across the table toward Samantha’s hand. “Krissik purred for you?”

“Yeah… don’t you ever—”

“I can’t.”

Samantha sat up straight. “What… why not?”

He shrugged. “At least not anymore. Like the stripes, it’s something we grow out of.”

“That’s too bad.” She smirked. “I have to admit it’s absolutely adorable.
A sound like that shouldn’t be possible coming from a human mouth.”

“Not quite human.”
Rikist smiled, his eyes creasing at their corners. He tilted his head to one side, considering her. “Does knowing more give you a better perspective on our culture?”

“About who you are as a people? Yes.”

“Good.” He drummed his fingers on the table and then stretched, his legs extending under the table until they brushed against Samantha’s. He hesitated in surprise and lowered his arms, but kept his legs extended against hers.

“Are you… feeling more comfortable at all?”

Samantha lowered her eyes. She shifted in her chair, causing her legs to rub against Rikist’s. Out of the corner of her eye she noted his stare, and the goose bumps on his skin in response to her touch. She fought to keep her face neutral against the sudden lump in her throat and shrugged.

“
Does it matter?”

Rikist sighed, and
then shook his head and snatched up her hand. He squeezed gently, his face earnest. “I… my brother wants you to be happy. He
is
trying. He just… needs a little time to adjust as well. This is new for him, too.”

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat at the
warmth in his touch. “The difference is that I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

He nodded slowly. “I know being here is hard. And that it’s a shock being in such a strange place with—” he twisted their hands so that she could inspect his clawed fingers around hers, “a different people. But if you give him a chance you would see we’re not really so different.”

Samantha guffawed. Unconsciously she moved her fingers against his, until they intertwined. She glanced up into his amber eyes, and felt the heat in his gaze. She smirked.

“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”

Rikist blinked, confused. “What?”

That made her laugh. “It’s a show, back home, about a guy who… never mind. You don’t have TV—”

“We have the monitor.” He motioned with his free hand toward the living room.

“For news.
I can’t believe you guys invented planet jumping but haven’t realized the meaning of simple entertainment. Like movies or fiction books. I mean, you guys don’t even have sugar for crying out loud. It’s funny how much I’ve been craving chocolate since it’s now out of reach.”

Rikist averted his eyes
and gently slid his hand free of hers. A wide yawn bared his sharp fangs. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles and pulled at the collar of his shirt. His skin held a fine sheen of sweat, and his eyes began to take on a glassy look as they roamed down to stop on her chest. Samantha cleared her throat and stood, crossing her arms over her breasts.

“You look like the pain meds are kicking in.”
Samantha picked up her plate. “You should probably go back to bed as soon as you finish.”

Rikist shook himself
as if to clear his head of an image and nodded, a blush creeping up his neck. “I think you’re right.”

Samantha
turned from the table and carried her dishes to the sink. She surprised herself with the sudden feeling of sadness at the idea of his leaving. She realized she was truly enjoying his company, especially after the last few days.

Days?
She thought.
Who am I kidding? It’s been almost a year since I’ve been this at ease with a guy…

“Are you sure you don’t want any more?”
she asked, almost pleading.

Rikist pushed his half-eaten plate toward the center of the table.
He looked guilty about something. “No, I’m not hungry.”

“You said you were starving.”

He glared at her. “I lost my appetite.”

Samantha
stared at him, taken aback by his sudden change in temperament. “You’re an ass.”

“Thought I was a dick?”

“That too.”

“
Ass and dick.” He forced a smile at her. “I’ll be sure to let my brother know your preferences.”

“I…” Samantha’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
So much for his pleasurable company.
“Eat shit.”

Rikist threw his head back and
let out a mirthless laugh. He pointed to his plate. “So that’s what this is called.”

Samantha shook her head and began filling the sink with water.
Her hands shook. “I don’t know how your bother puts up with you.”

“My
little brother could do to learn a few things from me.”

“Like what?”

“Like how to pull the stick out of his ass and bed you already.”

Samantha whirled around
with fire in her eyes only to see Rikist standing only a few inches away. She bit back a yip of surprised, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Screw you.”

“No,” Rikist said slowly. “That’s what you’re supposed to be doing to my brother.”

“Why are you being such a jerk? I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.” She squared her shoulders and tried to stand tall, though he towered over her by almost two feet. “One minute we’re talking and seemingly connecting… and the next you’re in a bad mood like someone spit in your lunch.”

He looked down at his hand—the one she had held—and made a fist. “
We… Listen, it’s not appropriate behavior to—”

“
Behavior? You’re complaining about my behavior?”

Rikist set his jaw.

Samantha turned back to the sink and ran the hot water; something to keep her from having to look at the beast standing before her.

“
I have done nothing but try to keep a straight face and not break down in hysterics after being beamed up to some God-forsaken planet against my will, be told I’m supposed to help populate a feline race…” She slammed a bowl down into the sink, splashing water on the floor.

“
That is not what I—”

“A
nd then be stuck in an apartment with an invalid asshole! So you could give me a bit of a break about
my behavior!
”

“Look.” He held out his free hand as he shifted his weight on the crutch. “
I know what you’re going through, and I’m…” He forced the next words out in English. “I am sorry I am not being more com… compass—uh… I understand. Sorry, I don’t remember some words…”

Samantha wiped at her eyes, her chin trembling. “How could you
possibly understand?” She sucked in her breath. “You’re this strong, decorated soldier-beast who fights, and kills… How could you possibly know what it feels like to be helpless? To feel…”

“Trapped?
” Rikist finished, his head down.

Samantha
stared up at him through a veil of tears. She nodded slowly.

Rikist
lifted his eyes and gazed at her from behind a few locks of hair that had fallen forward, his jaw tight and brow knotted. He stayed silent for a moment, his face torn. He looked about to say something, then clamped his mouth shut and straightened with effort, gripping the crutch. He dipped his head toward her and then limped toward the hall.

“Where are you going?” Samantha asked, wiping her nose.

“Leaving you alone,” he said softly.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve upset you.” He let out a frustrated growl. “I have been stuck on a ship full of soldiers for too long and I don’t remember how to act civil like a normal person.”

“You…” Samantha sighed
, watching him struggle to keep his footing. “You don’t have to go.”

“
Actually I do.”

“Really, Rikist. Please stay.”

Rikist guffawed. “You are crazy. You can flip on a—”

He turned to look at her, and his crutch
slipped on a small puddle of suds. He gasped as he fell forward, reaching out with his free hand to catch his fall. He fell on his wounded side with a thud. The crutch caught against the metal frame of his leg brace, trapping his arm.

“Ah… fuck.”

Samantha stepped forward to help, then covered her mouth with one hand and pressed her lips together.

Rikist growled and struggled to roll over to his back
, his face pained and frustrated. “It’s not funny.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”
A snort escaped, and Samantha closed her eyes tightly. Her shoulders bounced as she fought to keep silent.

Rikist glared at her. He
freed the crutch, shifted his grip on the end and swung it across the floor to hook behind Samantha’s heels and pulled.

Samantha yipped as she fell back, landing hard on her butt and falling back against his chest. She glared sideways at him, and then elbowed him in the stomach. Rikist doubled over,
chuckling, and she punched him in the shoulder before getting to her knees.

“
Asshole,” she muttered.

“
Why do you constantly refer to body parts?”

“You stink.” She pushed on his shoulder as leverage to
get to her knees. “When’s the last time you showered?”

“
I do, don’t I?” Rikist snorted and shook his head, his eyes twinkling with humor. “I could use help with a sponge bath.”

Samantha fought back a grin. “More like a tub of bleach.”

Rikist smirked and winked at her. “Feel better?”

She thought about it. “A little.”

“Mind helping me up?” Rikist held out one hand.

Samantha
glanced between the clawed hand and Rikist’s anticipating face, and then used both hands to grab his forearm and hefted him to his feet. He swayed and leaned into her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she pressed her body against his to hold him steady. Beneath the scent of sweat and medication rolled an exotic undertone of spices and sandalwood, and she breathed in deeply before tilting her head back.

He smells so good I just want to roll around all over him…

Rikist steadied himself and his hand lowered, resting at the small of her back. He looked down at her and their eyes met. His nostrils flared as he smelled her neck, and a low rumble began deep in his chest.

Samantha swallowed.
It was hard to think. “W-what… what were you trying to tell me, before…”

Rikist
closed his eyes. “Hmm?”

“About inappropriate behavior?”

Rikist’s hand gently pulled her closer, pressing their hips together, as his head dipped lower until their noses brushed and his loose hair fell against her flushed cheek.

Samantha put a hand on his chest to maintain a few inches of distance. His heart raced under her palm, and it set something off deep in her belly, slowly turning her knees to jelly. She
trembled, her own pulse in her throat, as she started to rise on tiptoe.

Wait… what am I
doing?

“Rik…
” she whispered, barely audible. “Rikist.”

Rikist froze, not even daring to breathe, as his eyes snapped open and he stared at Samantha from only an inch away. After a moment he straightened and shook his head, his face a mixture of surprise and regret.

“Samantha…” Rikist swallowed, a deep blush set in his neck and cheeks. “I…”

“Are you OK?” Samantha said quickly. “Can you stand on your own?”

He hesitated, and then nodded, a little too fast.

Samantha waited, watching him flounder. The look on his face told wonders about how he
felt at the moment, so she didn’t push it.

At least I’m not the only one completely freaked out about what just happened.

“Can… can you help me sit?” Rikist did not look her way. “I’ll wait for Krissik before going to bed. I don’t trust making it all the way to the room.”

Samantha swallowed her heart back down, and nodded. Silently, she helped him
to the couch and pulled the coffee table closer and helped him prop up his leg.

Rikist closed his eyes,
pain etched on his face, and he pressed down on his upper thigh though the brace, just above his knee.

Samantha retreated to the kitchen and pulled
out the ice bags and a bottle from the refrigerator, popped the top, and sat on the couch beside Rikist. She set the ice packs on his leg, and then handed him the beer.