The people around us cheer when the terrible man—their king?—speaks of stars and gods. If I were less terrified, I would have listened with fascination. Instead, I hold the hand of the man who inspected me like I were a cow and do what I can to stop myself from screaming.

I was promised a prince. He seems more like a frat boy, coming in with a cocky smile and the complete assurance that the world will wait on his pleasure. He says the words that make him mine. I hate everything about him, except for one small thing.

When he took my hand, he squeezed it gently. He is strong enough to break my hand without thinking of it, but instead, he is gentle. There is a brief moment when I look into his eyes, where it feels as if he’s pleading with me to stay quiet.

When I struck the man who first tried to undress me, the world slowed down. I had thought my time as an alien bride had finished before it started, and they would kill me for my insolence. I’m not going to push my luck twice in such short succession. I stay still as the people around us call their good wishes.

The King calls out. What was his name? Crucis? “Kiss her! Show her what an Arietan man does to an Earth woman!”

With an infuriating grin, the man I have just married swings me into his arms. I try to resist, but I can’t wriggle out of his grasp. He nearly pulls me off my feet as he bends over me.

His face is inches away from mine. For an instant, his face changes and he whispers into my ear.

“I’m sorry.”

He kisses me.

I wish he didn’t taste so good. I wish the warmth of his body didn’t call to something in mine. My first instinct, to fight him, falls away. Instead, I melt into his arms, clinging to him, opening my mouth to let his thrusting tongue inside. My body heats up, and I feel needy in a way I had never considered before.

I close my eyes and forget about the people staring at us. The only thing that matters right now is how he feels pressed up against me and how the heat between us is growing. I feel his body respond to mine in the most elemental male way possible.

I’m lost in him. Before I know it, he pulls back. The room snaps into sharp focus, and instead of pleasure, a humiliated blush rises up in my cheeks.

The king claps my new husband on the shoulder and smirks.

“Bed her well.” Thankfully, he turns away from us.

Rasulus does not release my hand as he pulls me out of the room, nodding and waving at the sycophants around us.

The guards have no trouble opening the door for him. In another moment, we are in the hallway. My escort is nowhere to be seen. Rasulus starts to tug me away. This time I dig in my heels, drawing him up short.

“You don’t have to drag me. I’m not a dog.”

He looks at me for a moment as if he’s not sure what I am. Finally, he nods.

“All right. Come with me.”

I think about running as fast as I can and getting out of the palace, maybe all the way back to the Callum Morris. I wonder if there’s a way for me to get back home.

I might have tried it, but I see my new husband staring at me. He’s tall, like all of his people are, dressed in a loose shirt, brocade jacket, tight trousers and tall boots that seem to be a uniform for the males. Underneath the clothes, I had felt powerful muscles. In the dim light, I can see a hunter’s gleam in his watchful eye.

Is he glowering at me?

I take a step closer to him. He reads my movement as assent and starts walking down the hall. Before he takes more than two paces, he turns around, as if he had just remembered something.

The motion is so sharp that I nearly walk into him. He looks down at me, where I have my arms crossed over my chest to hide my bare breasts as much as possible.

I wonder if I will see disgust or arousal in his eyes. Instead, I only detect compassion.

Rasulus removes his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders so deftly that his hands don’t touch my skin. I tug it closed around me. He nods in approval and starts walking down the corridor again.

As we walk, I think about the matchmaker who had promised me all of my dreams were going to come true. It feels like I am living in a nightmare instead. If I ever come across her again, I’m going to make her regret leading me to this palace.

Now that he’s away from the orgy and his brother, Rasulus seems different. He’s lost the drunken swagger I saw in the hall. He stands taller with an alert posture, looking more a soldier than a rogue. He catches me staring at him and changes before my eyes. Rasulus sags his shoulders and takes on a reeling gait. He is more than meets the eye, but I don’t need to know what he is to realize he is dangerous.

My body disagrees with my mind’s assessment. It reminds me of how good it felt to be in his arms, and how a single kiss had set me on fire. Even now, I want to take his hand again. I tell that part of me to shut up. I have more pressing things to think of than how good Rasulus Velorum feels.

The palace must be enormous. We take a long walk to a gilded set of double doors, where Rasulus passes his thumb over what looks like a ruby set into the center of it. The doors open obligingly. He nods for me to enter.

As the doors close behind us, I look around curiously. We are in a sunken space with a stone hearth at the center. There’s no outlet for smoke. Fist-sized stones glow at the center, providing smokeless light and warmth. The hearth is surrounded by a low couch piled high with cushions. It looks like the perfect place to curl up for a nap.

Immediately to my left is an indentation in the wall where a round white vase rests. It is full of beautiful blue blossoms. I think it will work well enough for what I need.

Rasulus turns to me. “I suppose you are—”

His words choke off in his throat when I grab the vase, dumping the water and the flowers out as I lift it over my head. The jacket slithers off my shoulders and falls to the floor. I can’t pull it up and hang onto my new weapon at the same time. The vase is heavy in my hands, and it feels good. It means even if I don’t win the fight, I can make someone regret messing with me.

Rasulus looks as if he’s trying to decide whether I’m serious or not. Gritting my teeth, I swing at him with the vase, making him take a step backward. I’m braced for him to assault me or try and take my improvised weapon away. Instead, he simply moves away, watching me carefully.

“All right, wife, you have my attention.”

He speaks calmly and evenly, his voice smooth, but for some reason, it makes me angrier. I scowl, looking away from him.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your wife.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” His tone is still infuriatingly polite. “You’re a girl from TerraMates, aren’t you?”

He makes me dull and prosaic. The matchmaker had spoken of romance and adventure. I imagined people suited for each other beyond a shadow of a doubt. I feel a red blush forms on my cheeks, and I take a tighter grip on the vase.

“TerraMates convinced me I should get on a damned ship and come to Arietus to meet a kindred spirit if that’s what you mean. It turns out she’s a liar, and I’m screwed.”

A shade of regret crosses his face. For a moment, it looks like he is going to reach for me, but he draws back.

“In Mrs. Lynch’s defense, we are likely suited for each other. We’re biologically compatible down to the last gene, and her tests for romantic and physical intimacy matching are without equal. We are probably soulmates.”

The way the words come out of his mouth makes me want to cry. They sound blunt and practical as if we’re talking about light fixtures or doctor’s appointments. What had I expected? For a moment, James’ cruel laughter rings in my ears again, but I shake it off. I cannot afford to get sidetracked.

“I think we have two very different ideas of what a soulmate is. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting the hell off this planet.”

“Really? How do you plan on doing that?”

My arms are getting tired holding up the vase, but I heft it up again to show him not to take me lightly.

“You are going to help me.”

“I am?” He sounds downright amused at my plight.

I grit my teeth. “Well, of course, you are,” I snap. “You don’t want me. You didn’t even know I was coming today. Everything was your brother’s doing.”

Rasulus has the grace to wince slightly.

“Yes. When Crucis gets an idea in his head, he must follow through. I was not aware TerraMates found you and sent you here.”

Hearing him confirm my worst suspicious makes my heart sank. “Thanks for clearing that up. I don’t want you, and you don’t want me.”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

“That you don’t want me.”

I sputter an outraged laugh. I take one hand off the vase to gesture around us.

“Why would I? You and your brother are perverse. My introduction to your people was an orgy. Everyone I saw who lives outside of the palace looks miserable!”

I see a number of emotions flicker across his face: rage, sorrow, and something else. They vanish immediately into the bland, foolish smile that makes me want to slap him.

“Well, that’s not what I felt when you were in my arms.”

Even if I were willing to try to forget that moment, it feels as if it has been branded into my mind. I draw in my breath at the reminder.

Rasulus lets his eyes slide down my body, taking in the way my breasts are heavy on my chest and the tremor of my soft belly. I’m aware of his regard in a way I wasn’t before. Earlier he was looking at me as either an amusement or a distraction. Now he is looking at me as a woman. I can’t tell which is more frightening.

“It doesn’t matter what I felt.”

“Of course, it does. If there is warmth for me, despite the terrible treatment you have received, TerraMates did something right. That means we’re drawn to each other, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose you might be right.”

“And perhaps it means you can put down the vase. Even if it’s only for a minute.”

I nearly laugh at the hopeful tone in his voice. I want to put down the vase, if only because holding it is beginning to make my arms ache.

“What happens if I do?”

“We talk. You tell me what happened to you and what you want. I look at you a little bit and try to talk you into my bed. Maybe you go, and I make you feel a greater pleasure than you have ever known.”

This time I do laugh, even if I don’t drop the vase.

“You have a pretty high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”

There’s the compassion again, an expression that turns up the corner of his mouth. It takes him from devastatingly handsome to something approaching sweet.

“You know nothing about me. You expected better than I am, and instead—well, I suppose we can start fixing some of that now. What’s your name?”

It’s such a normal question that I blink. “Perri.”

“Beautiful. Perri, I am Rasulus Alamaya Vir’danthus Velorum, second prince of Arietus, first of that name. I answer only to my brother Crucis the king. Everyone else answers to me. I swear I will not allow you to be harmed. I am not going to hurt you. As long as you are with me, I will never allow anyone else to harm you. I promise you one thing. You can trust me, Perri.”

The way he speaks echoes the vow he spoke in the hall. Something in me knows he means what he says. I start to lower the vase.

The problem is that the vase is massive. I have held it up for so long that my shoulders and upper arms have gone numb from trying to keep it in its position. The moment I move, my muscles start to buckle, and the vase slips from my fingers. It’s an exceedingly heavy piece of crockery, and it is sliding toward my head.

Moving faster than seems possible for a man his size, Rasulus appears by my side, catching the vase with one hand in a sure grip while the other hand comes down to wrap around my waist. Instead of toppling over in an attempt to secure the vase, I am pressed against Rasulus’ strong body again, my breasts pressed flat against his muscular chest.

“Rasulus!”

“I like the way you say my name.”

Before I can say anything, his mouth comes down over mine. This time the need is even more apparent than it was before. I bury my hands in his shirt, clinging to him as his tongue parts my lips and enters my mouth. I tilt my head back to give him better access. I am vividly aware of how suggestive the motion is, his tongue opening me and invading. His erect cock is pressed hard against my thigh. Shamelessly, I rub against him. There’s something about the way he feels that is just right to me. I can’t get enough of him.

I feel him set the vase down behind me. Then both of his arms are wrapped around me, holding me close as he ravages my mouth. Right behind his surprisingly soft lips are sharp teeth. When he pulls back to nip at my lower lip, I shiver.

“Beautiful little Earth girl, I will make you feel incredible.”

The words make me shiver and cling to him even harder. One hand comes down to fondle my ass and drifts to the front of my thigh. The skirt I’m wearing suddenly feels paper-thin as he palms my flesh. His hand feels so warm that the skirt might as well be nonexistent.

It isn’t until he pushes me down onto the couch by the hearth, the hems of my skirt pushing above my knees, that I come back to my senses.

What am I doing?

I’m falling down on my back, spreading my legs for a man that I met less than an hour ago. It’s humiliating, and I refuse to give myself over so easily.

I press my hand flat against his chest, painfully aware that if he doesn’t stop himself, I won’t be able to.

My only defense is one word. “No.” I put all of my force into it. In the dim light, I can see the hunger and need on his face.