Heat flushed her cheeks. A sparkle to her eyes added an intense shine to her complexion as if she was borderline weepy. Her behavior mortified Molly, and the mirror in her cabin didn't lie. She tossed more clothes into a crate and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her hands falling to her hips. Her pebbled nipples rubbing against her shirt was her fault. This irritated her, a reminder of how stupid she had been. How could she face Anzar again without dying of embarrassment at his feet?

"What am I going to do?" she asked her cabin.

"With regards to?" MARC's voice grated her today, female or male, it didn't matter.

"I wasn't talking to you," she said, glaring at the bulkhead.

"I do not see why you do not choose him. All probables indicate he is the best mate for you."

"I don't see why your speech patterns now mimic his. Let's just accept that your probables can't explain or anticipate everything."

"Choose him already. Your hormones are off the charts," MARC said, sounding more like his usual self.

"I can't, MARC. What if he doesn't love me? Ever? Wouldn't that trap me in a marriage from hell? It would tear me to pieces to live like that. As it destroyed my father. My mother never loved him, or us. She took the first shuttle off-world soon after Cam turned one."

"I can't advise on matters of the heart. Chemically speaking, his hormones are off the charts too." MARC's tone remained unchanged.

What had she expected? Commiseration from a robot?

"Yeah, right. Base my decision on your anatomical analysis of an unknown species. So wise," she said with a little resentment seeping into her voice.

"Your sarcasm is inappropriate."

"Bite me." She tossed in a few data tablets containing her libraries; books she had reread over the many years when she had run cargo. "I'm done here. It's depressing come to think of it. The packing up of my own life took less time than Amy's. Anything else I need?"

"Foodstuffs, a few more crates, spare parts for the pod and raptor. Don't forget about deep storage."

"Argh, deep storage." She ran a hand over her face, fending off exhaustion as her mind struggled to remember what they had stored. "We should have enough to send the pod with the first load. It might've been better had the Jasmine exploded."

"It might still if the Vargosh decide to fire first and ask questions later."

"True. I'll send the important crates first, y'know, the coffee, chocolate, clothes, battery banks, and toiletries. Oh, that reminds me. Start thinking of ways we can replicate a jungle-version of a hot shower. I don't want to have to use the waterfall for the rest of my life."

"What? Now I work miracles? How about indoor plumbing? I have no plans for the foreseeable future."

"And you say my sarcasm is inappropriate? Welcome back, buddy." Molly wasn't going to admit she had missed her verbal sparring with the damned computer. That would give him way too much leverage.

"What do you think of Chieftain Soran?" MARC asked in a 'conversational' tone.

"Drop dead gorgeous. His smile dazzles. Men like him tend to go for Amy, so I found myself at a loss, not knowing how to respond to such blatant admiration. He would have smiled like that at any woman, so it wasn't me in particular. He is desperate, but I don't trust his attraction."

"Your hormones spiked once," MARC said.

"Enough about my hormones. Attraction isn't all chemicals." Molly tossed her spare boots into the crate. She didn't have any of those death-stilts Amy preferred and had often lectured her friend on the merits of self-preservation.

"We shall see. I expect a 'You were right, oh-awesome-MARC'."

"Deal." Molly chuckled. She pulled a chair closer and climbed onto it, interested to see if she had stored anything in the upper cupboards. She doubted it but was determined to be thorough. Come to think of it, why did she have to have everything packed within a day? Where would the Jasmine be going? She voiced as much to MARC.

"I suppose it's in case the Vargosh blow it up. You'd cry sweet tears when burned coffee permeated the air."

"How poetic but true." She sighed, and on her tiptoes, reached for the last cupboard. The chair teetered. Her heart lurched into her throat, but she managed to balance it again with her fingers trembling at the close call. She reached for the last cupboard again.

"Molly!" Anzar boomed, surprising her and the chair. Its metal leg crumpled 'in fright' and sent her flying. She screamed as she fell backward, her head connecting with the table's edge just as his arms wrapped around her. Agony lanced through her, and she would swear it was worse than her last concussion. It felt like a million shards of ice spread from her scalp to her neck.

"Am I bleeding?" She searched for the lump and winced when she located it. Anzar had yet to put her down, his arms seemed to tighten around her, but the stinging distracted her from knowing for sure.

"Foolish female," he said, his voice hoarse.

Molly glanced at him, only now noticing the mixture of fear, anger, and concern in his tense expression.

"I was fine until you called my name. How'd you get in anyway?" she grumbled, nestling into his embrace.

"MARC said it was an emergency."

"I called him when you almost fell the first time," MARC said, his calm voice calm irritating her.

"You couldn't have said something yourself?" Molly glared at the bulkhead again. Why did she have the silly MARC in the first place? All it did was drive her crazy, pulsing anger, and frustration along her nerve endings.

"You would've ignored me, Molly."

She muttered under her breath, but MARC had the right of it. She would have brushed his warnings aside. Her eyes met Anzar's, sensing his gaze fixed on her. It was his fault she had fallen, but under the circumstances, she could be grateful he had come to her rescue. The bump could've been worse had she continued her journey to the floor.

"Planning on releasing me anytime soon?" she teased.

He grunted and lowered her legs until her feet touched the floor. He kept her close as his fingers burrowed through her hair. But when he brushed her lump, a moan tore from her with an accompanying wince.

"Status, MARC?"

"Just a lump, with no concussion."

"See, I'm fine," Molly said, resting her hand on his chest.

His heart thumped against her palm, its beat fast and erratic. Had she scared him? Or was it from the exertion of catching her? His fingers feathered down her cheek and caught her chin raising her eyes to meet his gaze. The pupils of his eyes swirled, brown flecks appearing for a second before his focus traveled along her nose to her lips to linger there.

Did he want a thank-you kiss for his unnecessary heroics? His heart leaped against her palm as the silence extended, and the air between them thickened. Molly couldn't breathe, and her heart pounded a rhythm to rival his. He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers.

At the unexpectedness of it, she gasped, raising her other hand to grip his waist as her knees quivered. He brushed his lips back and forth across hers, their breathing mingling. He shuddered, and his disjointed breath warmed her lips and chin.

"The taste of you lures me, Molly," he said, soft enough for her to doubt her hearing. He dropped both hands to her hips and tugged her closer to him. He rubbed his palms along her lower back and around to crush her against him.

"I'm fine, Anzar. I promise. I didn't mean to startle you." She didn't use the word 'scare' lest she offend him. Nibbling on her lip, she cuddled into his heat, nuzzling her cheek across his chest. Molly drew in a deep breath, inhaling the baked scent of him, savoring this moment. She gave in to the temptation and slipped her arms around his back, as best she could.

"Chieftain, I have the kagra," Mesu's voice echoed in the room.

Anzar stilled and lowered his fingers to grip her hips again. Something hard brushed her lower abdomen, but it could be a dagger. Her heart had leaped at the thought that he sported an erection. She huffed, silently chastising herself for her foolish hope.

"No more climbing," Anzar said, his voice stern. "MARC call me if she ignores my instruction."

"Yes, Chieftain." MARC's speech patterns had once again reverted to 'barbarian'.

Molly sighed. "Traitor!" she mouthed.

Anzar pressed his lips to hers for a long moment. The act was hot and intimate with all thoughts of reprimanding MARC for switching sides swept from her mind.

She stared at the closed door with her fingers pressed to her tingling lips. Attacked on all fronts, how was she supposed to survive another day against his seductive wiles? She could almost believe this attraction wasn't just from her side and that Anzar wanted to mate her. Molly's lips curled into a smile under her fingertips, and for the first time, courage flooded her. She would ask him, and if he didn't want her, she would mourn her broken heart then leave with Soran.