The Courtship (Sherbrooke Brides 5)

“I know this man,” Kao said, still looking every inch the warrior bent on a rampage. “He has a careless mouth.”

“He was just being Terran.” Which was becoming a universal synonym for “bigoted idiot,” I thought sadly.

The Jorenian’s tense frame relaxed. “There are many differences between our people,” he said, smoothing his palm over my cheek. “Do you regret being associated with me?”

“No.” Until that moment I hadn’t given a lot of thought to certain aspects of our relationship. Still, I wasn’t ashamed of being involved with him. “I don’t care what anyone says about us.”

“I can never be Terran, Healer.”

We belonged to two different species. So what? “I’ll never be Jorenian.” I shrugged. “Springfield is a jerk, Terra is welcome to him.”

“Tell me what is in your heart.”

I looked up into his strong, beautiful face. How could I even describe how I felt? When I was with Kao, everything else in my life seemed to fade away. I was deeply involved with a blue-skinned alien man, and I didn’t even know how that had happened. It had only recently occurred to me that it had.

There were problems, I reminded myself. “Tell me, how many times have we been together in the past two weeks?”

“Let me think,” he said, pretending not to know. Jorenians had incredible recall. “Four?”

“Five times, and you know it. Twice I had to leave you because of an emergency at the facility.”

“I do not expect you to sacrifice healing for me,” he reassured me. “As I recall, once I had to leave your company because of an unexpected change in the flight schedule.”

“There will be more emergencies,” I said.

“We both of us have occupations that demand much of our time.”

His open, confident manner had me blurting out, “You want more than just my time, Kao Torin.”

One blue finger traced the line between my brows. “Yes. I do.”

“Okay.” I took a gulp of air. “So do I.”

“Are you certain?”

“Not exactly.” His keen eyes made me grimace. “What if we can’t fulfill—if I can’t—” I made a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know what the term is in your culture. In mine, it is ‘relationship.’ What if we can’t make this work? What if my job demands more of my time than you’d like? What if—”

“Wha

t if seems to preface most of your worries,” Kao broke in calmly. “I can present similar concerns. What if I am permanently consigned to an intersector flight run? What if I am injured in a shuttle crash? What if I am exposed to HydroTyrannial Radiation and turn a disagreeable shade of yellow-green?”

I made a disgusted sound and turned away to stare at the jewel-rich darkness above me.

“Forgive me.” Kao gently pulled me back against his large frame. Even in my aggravation, my body responded to the proximity of his. He was big, warm, and alive. His palms began a gentle stroking motion over my shoulders. It gave me a sense of being sheltered, cherished.

It also made sweat bead along my hairline.

“On my world, there is a philosophy we learn as children: The path may change swiftly. Live in the now.” Kao’s hand moved down the untidy cable of my braid. “There are no guarantees in existence, Cherijo. Not even if you had Chosen—if you had a relationship with another Terran.”

Another Terran. Who? Someone like Duncan Reever? Now there was a distinct impossibility. “So we take a chance on the future?”

“We take the now. Tomorrow—that will come.”

“I know how serious it is for a Jorenian to Choose,” I told him. “It means forever.”

His hands stilled. “You have been educating yourself on my culture.”

“Your HouseClans were founded on the ritual of Choice.” I turned to face him, feeling panicky now. “If you Choose me, you’re stuck with me, for life. That’s a long time, Kao. Then there’s the other minor problem with getting bonded. Like packing up everything and moving to Joren.”