Dragon's Fated Mate: A SciFi Alien Second Chance Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 18) by Miranda Martin

Author:Miranda Martin [Martin, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

10

ANNABEL

Why did I say yes? I’m insane. I can’t do this. I’ve got nothing to wear, for one.

Ugh, what does it matter what I wear? I’m not interested. I’m not. He put me on the spot, that’s what it was. Everyone was looking at us. Here I am trying to find my place in this new world order, and he springs this on me!

Is he nuts? Am I?

My sleeping quarters look like a hurricane hit them. I’ve tossed my meager belongings all over the place as I’ve tried to decide on what to wear interspersed with decisions to tell him I’m not going. Collapsing on to the makeshift chair in the corner, I stare at the mess.

Nothing. I’ve got nothing to wear. Unfortunately, the clothes that survived the crash have long since been worn to nothing. Everything I do have is threadbare, tattered, and or stained beyond any hope of actually being clean. Sooner rather than later I’m going to be down to wearing furs that we harvest from the damn beasts.

Do they have clothes production in the City? I hadn’t even thought to ask. They might, actually. It’s not like I have a clue how to make clothes. You go to the store, you buy them. That’s how you get clothes. I know someone had to make them, but that wasn’t my problem on the ship. It wasn’t my job to do.

A soft, pinkish shirt rests on top of a pile next to the small pallet I call a bed. I grab it off the floor and hold it up for inspection. It’s not too bad. There’s a dark stain on the back-left side that I’ve never been able to get out. Bivo blood, if I recall correctly. Okay, well this is the best I’ve got.

What am I worried about? This isn’t a date. I’m only doing this to say thank you for helping us get here. That’s it. Nothing more. I’m sure he’s not worrying about what to wear. Zmaj males have it easy, they only wear loose pants that all look the same. His entire choice is do I wear my brown pants or my brown pants! It’s not fair.

And it’s not a date. Nope. No how. This is not a date. I’m not going to notice his overly defined abs or the bulging muscles of his arms. Or the fullness of his lips and the deep color of his eyes. My stomach tightens, aching, and I’m acutely aware of the void between my legs that hasn’t been filled in so awfully long.

If the Zmaj were different. If they believed in one-night stands, then maybe this would be more than not-a-date. They don’t. I know this for a fact, and I’m not going there because of it. I’m not going to commit myself or get a Zmaj stuck to me because I have an itch to scratch.

I run a hand over my stomach that’s not nearly as flat as it used to be. I’m not fat, we

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