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face heated as she remembered the spanking. She’d been terrified at first, but he hadn’t hurt her, not really. The masterful way his hands had rubbed her bottom in between the light smacks drove her wild. The unexpected waves of pleasure only grew as she surrendered, ceasing her struggles. She wouldn’t resist the next time.
    The last Earth woman I was intimate with on the Kall homeworld said it reminded her of what humans call b-s-d-m.
    You mean BDSM?
    Last night’s conversation sprung into her mind and she couldn’t help but smile a secret smile as Merokk guided her outside the tent into the cool evening for a breath of fresh air. Fiona’s only escape from work and the 24/7 care of her mother had been in books, and her taste in books veered toward the erotic side. She’d read a few BDSM romances in her day. Okay, more than a few.
    “We’re leaving now,” he whispered into her ear. His eyes burned with desire, and his hand gripped her forearm possessively.
    “You just told your friends we’d be back in a few minutes,” Fiona replied, worried they would be breaking some kind of Kall social etiquette she wasn’t familiar with.
    “I’m your husband.” He nipped her ear, and she drew in a quick breath. “I say we leave now.” His tone remained teasing but firm, and Fiona practically melted at his feet. His deep voice had her mesmerized and ready to agree to anything.
    “Yes, sir,” she said breathily, gazing up at the former Kall warrior she now called husband.
    He pressed a button on his shirtsleeve and his ship appeared, hovering across the lawn. Fiona gazed at its brilliant lights in wonder. “Our house will be ready soon, but until then I prefer to stay on my ship. It’s been my home these past six months,” he said.
    These past six months . His words pierced and twisted deep like a dull knife in her stomach. The war. The bloodshed. If he and his fellow Kall warriors hadn’t come to Earth in their ships, Fiona would be at home with her mother in New York, probably watching Jeopardy! right about now. Her hometown was gone though, blown to bits—or so she’d heard. Her friends were either dead or scattered. And Fiona was about to take the phrase sleeping with the enemy to a whole new level.
    Wishing she’d consumed more champagne, she let Merokk lead her toward his ship. He’d done horrible things, and for her sanity’s sake she needed to forget, if only for a few hours. Being touched by him would be torture if she couldn’t. She hoped last night hadn’t been an anomaly. She’d enjoyed his touch then and fervently hoped the carnal desires he stirred within her would stamp out all doubt. Spending the past few hours with him during the wedding celebration hadn’t been so bad. She’d genuinely enjoyed Merokk’s company, but she worried perhaps it was a result of becoming swept up in the cheery atmosphere.
    The boarding steps of the Wannok descended with a hum, and Merokk motioned for her to walk ahead of him. This was it. Her palms began to sweat, and she fisted them into her white wrap. Vaguely, she mused that she felt like a convicted criminal on her way to meet her death. Her nerves were on overdrive, and it was all she could do not to trip up the steps. How the hell would she make it to the bedroom without freaking out?
    Merokk brushed up behind her at the top of the stairs and called out a command in his own tongue, a deeply guttural string of vocabulary Fiona doubted she would ever be able to understand. Thank goodness Betsy Carson hadn’t learned Kall, or she would’ve been screwed. Well, more screwed than she already was.
    She turned and watched as the steps folded up into the ship, molding to the walls as the door sealed them inside. The corridor walls were a deep, welcoming red, and the floor and ceiling were a practical shade of gray that reminded Fiona of the silky curtains from her grandmother’s living room. She wondered what their house would look like. Would it be warm or