“Unusual name for a guy,” she grunted, seemingly unperturbed by his block as she went for the other side. “Unless it’s really something machoistic and arrogant and this thing in my head changed the meaning in Terran.”
He chuckled at that. “No… it’s the same word in Terran.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? What the fuck would an alien like you know about Terran?” she snapped and launched herself into an attack.
It was a good one, forcing him to twist and turn to block the barrage of blows she rained down on his defenses, so he didn’t speak for a few minutes as she worked on him.
“Quite finished?” he asked when she broke away. “And I know a fair bit about Terrans.”
He stepped closer, dropping his voice so only she could hear. “Your sister sent me.”
The reaction was not quite what he expected. Her lips compressed, her eyes shuttering.
“I don’t have a sister.” Then she punched him in the jaw.
He rocked back on his heels, pain flaring through his face. He hadn’t seen the blow coming, a rare feat for anyone facing off against him. His jaw clenched, the pain fading as he took a step forward.
“Stay away from me, you asshole,” she snarled and lashed out again.
This time he didn’t let her hit him. He caught her fist dead in the palm of his hand, savoring the way her eyes widened and the look of surprise on her beautiful face as his hand enveloped hers.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you a lady shouldn’t hit people?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She snorted at his statement. He didn’t blame her. It was ridiculous given where they were.
“One. My mom was the one who taught me to punch and two… hellllllooo,” she drawled sarcastically, motioning around them. “Did you forget where the fuck we are?”
“Don’t swear,” he snapped as she yanked her hand away and backed off. He circled her like the predator he was. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like the curses that fell from her pretty lips. “It doesn’t become you.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” she demanded, circling him with more wariness now. Good, she should realize he was a dangerous predator and afford him more respect. He could snap her fragile little body like a twig. He wouldn’t, but he could.
He ignored her question in favor of asking one of his own. “You didn’t give me your name.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
Was that it? Was she seriously not going to answer him? He growled again, launching an attack of his own to test her defenses. They were rock solid, each blow blocked or evaded with a grace that impressed him. Someone, somewhere, had taught this female how to fight. And fight well. Anger speared through him that she’d had to, that someone had put her into a position where she could be hurt and she’d had to defend herself.
“Well?” he demanded, breaking off and circling again. It was like a dance between them—a deadly, lethal dance but one that exhilarated him all the same.
“Well, what?” She arched an eyebrow, looking as calmly and unruffled as the society females who watched the fighters from their private boxes and reveled in the blood and sweat on the heat of the sands below them as they fanned themselves and drank champagne in air-conditioned luxury.
“Are you going to tell me your name?”
“No.”
Another growl escaped him. “You need to learn respect… among other things.”
“You can’t teach me anything,” she shot back.
The words were a little breathless as he feinted to the left but attacked from the right, forcing her to back up rapidly. If she did, he could pin her against the wall and find out what she felt like pressed up against—no, he was not going to do that. He didn’t want to find out what Marika’s snippy sister felt like pressed breast to hips against him. Not at all.
He didn’t get the chance. Instead of backing up, she twisted and slipped under his arm, circling around behind him. He nodded in acknowledgment. It was a slick move. He’d have to watch her more carefully.
“I was offering out of kindness. You need to learn how to survive in this place,” he argued. “I can help with that.”
Her snarl was immediate. “Fuck you.”
His laugh was sharp, little more than a bark of amusement. “Do you really think I want a spikey argumentative female like you in my bed? You’d probably stab me or something.”
She gasped, fire in her eyes. “I wasn’t offering!”
“Good,” he rumbled, settling back into a circling pattern. He’d worked out her defenses were solid but she was playing it safe, so he didn’t know what her attack strategies were. He needed to piss her off more and get her to go on the offensive.
“I prefer my females quiet and graceful. You are neither.”
“Good! I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on the fucking planet! Zad, we’re done here,” she announced and then stalked off.
Beauty watched her back in utter surprise for a long moment and then laughed. No female in the pits had ever walked away from him before. He should be blazing mad and have a guard bring her back to him, but all he could do was watch her stalk away and admire the perfect curves of her ass.
Because that’s all he would ever do—admire her from afar. She was too prickly, too spikey and altogether not what he was looking for in a mate.
Even if she was the most perfect female he’d ever seen, and his cock was hard in his pants just at being around her. That was just a purely physiological reaction because he hadn’t been with a woman in… Yeah, far too long.
He turned to stalk off the sands, heading toward his own cell. He’d go down to the T3 cells and see if any of them were interested in warming his bed tonight. Take the edge off with meaningless sex.
Then tomorrow he’d be back on form. Absolutely back on form.
Nat didn’t see the inside of her cell or manage to speak to Zad until later that night. No sooner had she stormed off from the irritating alien than the guards had closed in on them all. Pissed off at having to break up a real fight on the other side of the practice arena, none of them had been allowed to speak for the rest of the day. The hours since had been taken up with endless rounds of circuit training from hell until finally, she’d been allowed to shower—a feat that sounded far more luxurious than it actually was. The showers were nothing more than a section of corridor with punctured water pipes running across the ceiling that allowed tepid water to rain down on her. She’d stayed there as long as she could with a crowd of other women, all trying to scrub the sweat, dirt and blood from their battered bodies before they were herded out and issued new clothes.
“What the fuck was that about earlier?” Zad demanded as Nat was shoved back into the cell by a guard, clutching her prize, a blanket she’d managed to grab in the stores before they’d all gone, tightly to her chest.
“What do you mean?” she asked, glaring at the guard as he slammed the cell door shut behind her. She’d learned not to turn her back on most of them in case she got shocked again. They seemed to find it funny, especially after she’d threatened to shove one up where the sun didn’t shine.