Octavia followed the driver into the elevator. The doors swished closed, and the elevator propelled upward to the top floor of the ugly building. When the doors slid open again, she followed the driver into another nondescript hallway and all the way to the end.

The driver flicked a few buttons on a holographic computer pad next to a door. A second later, there was a soft beep, click, and the door opened. Octavia felt her heart slam hard against her chest. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The driver stayed in the doorway, and she turned to him with a frown. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“I have no business entering the grand architect’s quarters. Good luck, human female.”

The driver put his hand on his heart and bowed slightly. Octavia turned back toward the empty room. The furnishings were simple geometric shapes. Everything was white. White walls, white furniture, white floors. The only variation was the view outside the window.

“Hello?” she said, peering into the room. There was no one there. Had her snobby “mate” decided to make a run for it?

“Yes,” came a response from a room off to the side.

Joss Noro walked in and stared her down. Octavia’s mouth dropped open. He was so amazingly good looking, she almost couldn’t breathe. His full lips pressed into a tight line and his almond shaped, wide brown eyes narrowed over his chiseled cheekbones.

He had a shock of white-blond hair that hung down to his impossibly broad shoulders. This guy wasn’t a military type, he was an architect, but he was built like a bull.

His nostrils flared as he stared at her. Octavia felt like a matador in the ring with an angry animal. She took a step back, feeling like bait. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she tried to get a hold of herself.

Octavia’s entire nervous system seemed to come to full attention, sending sparks of fear and desire from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

“Octavia Reynolds?” he asked.

“Yes,” she stammered. “You’re Joss Noro. The so-called Grand Architect of Draconia?” It was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling. Why was he so damned hot?

This is going to be harder than I thought.

“I am.”

He didn’t say anything else or make a single move. Octavia reached out to the back of a strange looking chair and gripped the foamy material. Surprised at the texture and the way it gave under her hand, she pulled her grip away.

The momentary distraction only made her heart leap higher when she met his gaze again. Why was she so overwhelmed? She’d come here for a reason, and she didn’t intend to let the opportunity pass her by just because this asshole was the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

“So… You’re the idiot who is in charge of designing the reconstruction of New York City?”

“Idiot,” he said, seeming to chew on the world like a bite of rancid meat.

“You think humans can live in these boring ass buildings with no streets, no transportation, no parks. You plan to build over the one last good place in the city. Yes. I think you’re an idiot.”

“Who are you to judge me, simple-minded human?”

“Simple-minded? Ha! You have no idea what I’ve been through and I’m still here. I only entered the stupid lottery for a chance to give you a piece of my mind!”

“A piece of your mind? I have no wish to be given a piece of your simple mind. It would not serve me or this process. I have no wish to be mated with a backward, underdeveloped human female. If I could reverse the mating impulse, I would send you on your way.”

Octavia looked down at her body on impulse. Underdeveloped? Was he talking about her tits or her mind? Even after starving for two months, she still had her curves. He must be talking about her mind. Which was a way worse insult than her tits.

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her bosom. If he didn’t want a mate, fine. She’d leave, right after she told him exactly what she thought of his idiotic designs.

“Your blueprints are completely wrong. You clearly have no understanding of what humans need.”

“These are standard Draconian colonial constructions.”

“You designed spaces for Draconian colonists. Not humans on their own planet.”

“Your kind is less developed than mine. Our designs should be perfectly suitable for you. You are, in fact, living in filth and squalor.”

“Even the men on the mating armada understood humans better than you. Why did you get the job reconstructing our planet?”

“I am the highest level architect on Draconia. Draconians have respect for our experts. Unlike simple-minded humans like you. I was sent specifically by the president himself.”

“Well, your president doesn’t know what he’s doing if he thinks you are qualified to reconstruct Earth. You’re going to make it into some kind of industrial dystopia. Humans can’t live like that. We need variety. Culture. Trees. Recreational opportunities. Community. You’ve given us rows and rows of nondescript buildings with zero variety and no opportunity for communal socialization.”

“You simply need housing, food, and water to survive. I am providing you that. What you do with it after that is up to you.”

“But you are creating an infrastructure that will not allow us to build the kind of communities we need to thrive.”

“Human. I grow tired of your voice.”

“Screw you. I’m out of here. I’m going to tell my friends back at the refugee camp that Draconians don’t care. We’ll just move off this island and go build a real community somewhere else.”

She turned to go, and he crossed the space between them in a split second. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. That same smug look etched his face as he sniffed the air.

“You can’t leave,” he growled.

She tried to yank her arm away, but he held tight. “You’re an asshole, and I refuse to mate with you.”

He bared his teeth at that, showing his sharp canines. “The feeling is mutual. But my mating impulse has begun. I have no choice but to claim you, or I will lose my mind.”

“You’ve already lost your mind if you think I’m going to let you touch me.” Even as she said the word, her body screamed for his touch.

“I will do more than touch you.”

“Is this how all Draconians treat their women? I was under the impression that you guys were super giving or was that all propaganda?” Her words were hard but they began to quiver at the end of her statement.

His fingers dug into her flesh, and she began to panic. Would he hurt her? Force himself on her? All she’d wanted to do was convince him to build a city that would suit human needs instead of something that looked like a massive jail. He wouldn’t listen to reason, which was bad enough. Now she was afraid he might hurt her.

“You aren’t a Draconian,” he said smugly.

His grip finally loosened, and she rubbed her arm where he’d held her.

“That’s for damn sure.”

“I never wanted a human mate. But here we are. We must make the best of a bad situation.”

“Oh, now you’re all hearts and rainbows. Why are you such a jerk?”

“I had no intention of taking a human bride. But it has been decreed that all males enter the lottery. Now I’m stuck with…you.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so disgusting. You’re no prize either.”

She felt a tear start to well in the corner of her eye. She would not let this guy see her cry. No freaking way.

Octavia took a deep breath and blinked away the tear. If she had to stay with this guy and let him mate with her, she was going to do her damnedest to change his mind about the reconstruction of her city and world.

“So. This is your first project on Earth?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes.”

“Why this design?”

“This is standard for colony planets. It saves resources and consolidates space.”

He was treating her home like some unpopulated colony on some far off moon or something.

She had to deal with this more delicately. Obviously, Draconians could be pig-headed and single-minded in their focus. If she was going to make him see reason, she’d have to go about it in more subtle way.

“How does this whole mating thing work, anyway? I just entered the lottery a few hours ago. Haven’t been doing much research on your mating rituals.”

“It is my very limited understanding that humans are far too small to be claimed immediately. Your body must be opened slowly so that you can accommodate our substantial size.”

Octavia almost choked when he said that. So, the whole size thing was an issue. She glanced down at his package. It twitched under his skintight uniform. She bit her lip and averted her gaze, trying to look at something else, anything else, besides his shlong. Her mind went fuzzy, but she tried to focus.

“How do you ‘open’ a woman to accommodate your size?” She looked back into his eyes. They were narrow slits and his nostrils flared angrily as he stared directly at her.

“Our semen is an aphrodisiac. The pheromones will cause the body to become more elastic at a genetic level.”

Octavia mouthed the words “genetic level,” trying to comprehend what that meant.

“Your semen changes a woman’s genes?”

“Precisely.”

“That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. How exactly do you accomplish that?”

“I must spill on your bare skin.”

“Wha…? That’s just… I wouldn’t have taken you for a kinky freak.”

“I am not a kinky freak. I am the Grand Architect of Draconia.”

“Okay, Grand Architect. How do you propose to get your semen on my skin?”

Octavia’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. The idea of letting this guy do such a dirty, dirty thing to her was not completely unpleasant, no matter what a jerk ass he happened to be.

There was something about him that was deeply appealing. He was so damn sexy. So big and masculine. It was like her body wanted to jump up and start humping him against her better judgement.

She felt herself grow slick and wet between her legs. She bit her lip, imagining just how he might come on her body. The visual made it even worse. Her nipples tightened painfully and she took a step back.

“To accomplish something of this nature, we should both be naked. We should proceed with all haste to the bedroom to begin the process.”

“Eh… I don’t know about that. How about you buy me dinner first,” she said sarcastically. She didn’t really care about that kind of thing. It was just something to say to buy her some time.

No matter how much her body betrayed her, she still couldn’t just get freaky with a snobby asshole she’d just met.

If she had to be mated with this guy, she at least could retain some kind of self-respect. That meant no coming on her tits until she was damn good and ready.