She released a shaky breath and squared her shoulders against her self-appointed task. "Where are my gloves?" she mumbled, trying to blink her thoughts into focus.

"On the wall where you usually hang them."

"Argh, can't you just babysit them and leave me alone?" She snatched the gloves off the magnetic band and slapped them across her palm.

"The same?" MARC asked to which she grunted.

Ancient music called 'rock' blasted the cargo bay, and she sighed, letting the rhythms vibrate through her. She slipped her gloves on and powered them up. The energy pulsing through them activated the Illonion steel, and the crates became as light as a feather.

Invigorated by the fast pace of the music, she sorted through the closest crates. She sang along, not pausing when she sliced her inner forearm on a crate's sharp edge. Injuries were common. She scanned the wound with the med-sensor while singing about being born in a specific place. Weird subject matter, but it had a catchy tune. The laceration stopped bleeding, the stinging lessened but didn't leave completely, not yet. Blood stained her white shirt, and she shrugged. The laundry closet would take care of it, so she continued to sing and sort crates.

She danced around the cargo bay, swinging her backside, and twirling on the spot, satisfied that she had reduced half the number of crates she needed to transport. One crate held med-sensors, one held cocoa plant seeds. That had been an impulse buy and would pay off now. Amy had complained at the expense, but Molly had insisted. They might crash land and never see chocolate again. She wished she had thought of coffee, as well. One crate held the weapons, one held their spare toiletries. Buying it in bulk was cheaper, and since they had the space, the purchases made sense.

"...loves my baby!" she sang, swaying her backside as she lowered another crate.

"Molly!" Anzar roared, surprising her, and she squeaked, jumping back to slam into him. His arm looped around her waist to steady her, his fingers splaying out on her lower stomach shooting fireworks to burn in her core.

She shuddered even as she melted against him. "Sorry, Anzar, I didn't hear you."

"I am aware of this." He frowned. "You did not respond to the band."

"The music's loud." And at that moment, MARC switched it off, so she was yelling for no reason. She gritted her teeth, tossing a glare at the ceiling. Anzar glowered at her, though, as if she had ignored him on purpose. "Look how much I did?" She gestured to the stacked crates, delighted with her progress. In truth, she wanted to distract him from any forth-coming lecture he felt inclined to share.

"You are wounded." He scowled, spinning her to gather her arm in his hands. His touch was hot, his fingers sending goosebumps across her skin.

"It happens. I ran the med-sensor over it. Should be gone in a day or two. Are you done for the day? How did they do, MARC?"

"They're fast learners. A few more hours and the distraction will be complete."

"Excellent! Dinner time?" Molly smiled at Anzar. "I'm starving! And then I'll pack Amy's cabin." She lifted a half-crate, which would fit in their narrow passages and hoped it was large enough to carry all of Amy's things. She carried it to the mess hall, checking to see if Anzar followed. He did, but he didn't look pleased. In fact, he looked pissed off.

She grimaced as she lowered the crate and tugged off her gloves, tossing them inside the crate before using the sterilization spray to clean her hands. She opened the freezer and chose from the various frozen dishes she had. Spreading out fourteen, she gestured to the males to pick one.

Tazo knocked the frozen-solid block on the metallic table, and she hid a smile at his horrified expression. Popping Anzar's into the microwave meant she needed to wait the two minutes under his vigilant gaze. She looked everywhere but at him, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she listened to the males argue the merits between their weapons of choice. At the 'bing', she pulled out the meal, handed Anzar a spork and held out her hand for the next male's meal, taking the time to show them all how to work the microwave.

"Do yours next," Anzar said.

With an exaggerated sigh, she slid in her chicken parmigiana and waited. Her stomach growled when she dipped her spork in, breaking the surface. A rich aroma rose to tantalize her and she moaned. She sat on the bench next to Anzar and dug her spork in, taking the required second to blow on her loaded spork before popping it into her mouth.

Halfway through the meal, she jumped up and spread out various flavors of sodas. Their delight at the fizzy flavors brought a smile to her lips, which she hid by dipping her chin down. Laughing at their reactions to simple things wouldn't go over well with their male egos. The sugar and caffeine would delight even the most hardened warrior. She tossed her packaging and soda container into the recycler and her spork into the dishwasher.

"Ready the elly," she said slipping on her gloves and grabbing the crate.

"Elevator readied," MARC intoned.

"Wait," Anzar called, mimicking her regarding the clean-up process post-meal.

With a start, she realized how they must watch her, unsure as to her world. She should explain things more, just to ease their transition. Tomorrow, she would start then.

"Sweet slumber," she called to the males before leading Anzar along a wider passage and into the elevator. It required a massive amount of power to run which is why she preferred to climb the decks. But carrying Illonion crates made that difficult.

They stepped out onto their passage, and she headed straight for Amy's door. MARC opened it for her without her having to ask which had her grumbling under her breath even though she appreciated it. Amy's unmade bed was the first thing she noticed. Yup, it had been that kind of morning. Setting the crate on the floor by the bed, she tugged off the gloves, tossing them on the kitchen counter to make the bed.

"Sit," she said to Anzar. Not waiting to see if he did, she went through Amy's cupboards, tossing things into the crate willy-nilly. Holy crap, Amy had a shit ton of lingerie. She held up a negligee and chuckled before tossing it into the crate.

"What is this?" Anzar scooped the negligee out of the crate. The black silk garment looked delicate in his hands.

"Female kemtoch." Molly grinned as she opened the next cupboard.

"Do you wear this?"

She paused to face Anzar, the awe in his voice drawing her focus. He rubbed the silk along his cheek, his fingers testing the softness of the fabric. She was torn between smiling at his obvious enthrallment and the unreasonable burn of envy as he held another woman's negligee to his face.

"Nothing like that. I have other kinds of kemtoch." She shrugged, turning back to the cupboard to hide her heated cheeks. When she said others, she meant silk or leather bustiers that Amy had gifted her with. She hadn't had an occasion to wear them yet. Judging by his delight, she had better pack them. Perhaps her mate would love to see her in it? If not, she could gift it to a Sunkhu female.

She giggled as she found a stack of chocolate bars, tossing Amy's private stash into the crate. The sneaky woman! But Molly understood. A woman in outer space without chocolate was an unpredictable and volatile force to avoid. She shot glances at Anzar wondering why he was so quiet. He had sprawled diagonally across Amy's bed, lying on his side. His riveted gaze trailed her around the room. His intense focus had a shiver streaking down her spine. She swallowed a gasp, her nipples tightening under his heated regard.

"Why so quiet?" she asked, hoping to distract him. "How do you like my world so far?"

"I prefer mine. I'm looking forward to returning home."

What was not to like? She had hot showers and indoor plumbing. She had coffee, for now. "Why?"

"The Vargosh will be dead, and you will be mated." He lowered his voice, sounding deliciously sinful to her sensitive ears.

"My mating? But, I haven't made a decision yet. I was hoping this trip would show me more of your males. They still seem distant and um, disinterested." She threw clothes into the crate. "I'm smiling more so I'm not sure that was the issue."

"I've noticed." He rumbled. "Your smile is beautiful."

At his unexpected compliment, fresh heat splashed her cheeks, and she flicked a dismissive hand as if to nullify her body's humming response to his words. "Not beautiful enough. Your males were friendly on the hike to the pod. I thought that was a good sign."

"They are good males."

"Yes, but I don't want to trap them in a loveless mating. No one deserves to live in such a hell." Her father's tears when her mother left, holding her sisters well they sobbed were events she didn't want to live through again. Her husband or mate had to love her, he just had to.

"Loveless?" he echoed, his eyes tilting as he smiled.

Fear cinched her chest like a vise. What if their culture was loveless? No, it couldn't be, not with the way Meera and Narro looked at each other. "You do have love, right?"

"Love follows, temaar. Your mate will love you, this I vow."

"In my world, the love comes first, then the mating. I have to make a choice based on hope, Anzar." Despite the mask she showed the world, she wasn't strong enough to have a man trample on her heart.

"And faith that Mother knows best."

"Faith is hard, Anzar. I mean, you and I get on well. I like that. I'm just not finding the same connection with your males. We might have to go to another village if this mating is a must."

His expression darkened, then he grumbled before saying, "I don't want to. To take you to a village is to never see you again, Molly. This displeases me."

She didn't like that either. "We can't visit?"

"The distances between the villages are great. Your mate would not appreciate you seeing me."

Then she wouldn't choose. "Tough. You're my friend. I'll see whom I damn well please."

"And if it hurts him here?" Anzar thumped his chest where she assumed his heart rested.

"Of course I'd listen, but if he loved me, he'd trust me. It would hurt not to see you again, Anzar. Argh! I hate this. I go from no lovers to this...a husband...a mate! It's insane."

"Amy is happy."

"Amy is used to many lovers. Me, not so much." Could she choose him? Everything within in her wanted to. She should just come out and ask him, but fear slithered between her bravado, weakening it.

"You're innocent?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. She had to strain to hear him.

"No, just not as skilled as Amy. I'm not preferred. Didn't I mention this?" She frowned, trying to recall if she had told him that men just didn't like her.

"You did, on Elkarra, but Molly, you are perfect. Any male would be blessed to have you as his mate."

"Really?" She smiled at him, unable to stop his sweet words from drenching her arid heart. "You're not just saying that because I'm the only unmated female you know?"

He frowned. "I do not lie, temaar."

At his words, she tossed Amy's clothes—clutched in her hands—into the crate and tackled Anzar on the bed. Sprawled on top of him, she pressed kisses to his laughing mouth, her fingers curling over his bare shoulders. His chest vibrated with his chuckles, broadening her smile.

"Thank you, Anzar. I was worried." She rested her cheek onto his chest, allowing the steady thrum of his heartbeat to fill her with the blessed warmth of contentment.

"Silly female, you could choose grumpy Mesu, and he would worship you." He slid his hands down her back to grasp her hips. His heated touch seared her as if she was naked. Her body brushed his in all the right places, her pelvis riding something hard. Holy crap! Anzar was mesmerizing, he saturated her senses, her thoughts, spun her on a whirlpool of need. She wanted to kiss him, to slip her tongue in his mouth and kiss him. No more thank-you kisses!

She needed him, hot, hard with his hands and mouth on her bare skin. Heat exploded through her body, coiling molten need from her chest to her core. Her skin tingled as she drowned in his dark eyes. Humor had faded, and his focus intensified. He slid his hands up her back as if he needed to keep her there.

"Anzar?" Was that her voice? All sensual and needy?

"Molly?" he mimicked, his lips curling into one of his heart-stopping smiles.

"Thank you for trusting me. For helping me defeat the Vargosh. I don't know what I'd do without you." She pulled away to look at him. "I mean, you could've called me mad, disbelieved everything I told you, but you didn't."

"I've seen your pod, temaar. I saw what your weapon could do. Your garments are strange, and you speak a language I've never encountered on Elkarra." He sat up too, tracing a fingertip along her cheek. "If you'd lied, it would've been revealed soon enough."

So, he hadn't trusted her on faith? In a way, she was disappointed, sadness staining an otherwise perfect day.

"Shall we call it a night then?" Molly asked, desperate for a cold shower. She needed to take control of her body. Her emotions swung like a pendulum, one side had her thinking Anzar was her friend, and the other side demanded she choose him. He raised a quizzical brow and she smiled. "It means go to sleep."

"Yes, I have questions I'd like to ask MARC." Anzar rolled off the bed and rose, pausing to peer at her.

"Oh?" Curiosity pounded at her, but his pinched lips told her he wouldn't be forthcoming. "I'll collect you for breakfast?"

"Yes." He gazed at her for the longest moment, and his fingers trembled as he brushed a curl off her forehead. "Sweet slumber, temaar."

Molly stared for ages at the door after he had left her. The silence in her room echoed the loneliness tugging on her heart. Soon she would choose a mate, and she hoped he would fill the aching void in her chest that seemed to disappear whenever Anzar was near.

"You're not falling in love with him, Molly!" she said, jumping up to continue packing. She threw the clothes and other mementoes into the crate with too much force, then crumpled to the floor on a heart-wrenching sob.

Yes, she was falling in love with him.