Wulf turned around, ignored Chet entirely and made his way in my direction again.
“Turn the cameras!” the producer hissed.
The one nearest me swung about, and I was about to jump out of the way of its path when Wulf stopped it with his palm. The cameraman retreated to safety, and with one push Wulf toppled the huge machine onto its side. The crash reverberated through the set, but all I heard was a second, “Mine,” coming from Wulf’s lips. The producer screamed at the other cameras to get the shot as Wulf stopped directly before me and… sniffed.
I looked up. Way up. My head was tilted so far back my chin was facing him more than my eyes. My mouth hung open.
“Um… hi.”
“Mate.”
“Uh… no. No, no. No,” I stuttered.
“Mine.”
Taking another deep breath, he growled. Men with handheld cameras surrounded us, absorbing in everything. What was I wearing? God, I had on my white T-shirt with the word sassy in sequins across my chest. It was almost laundry day, and I wore a skirt I’d found in the back of my closet. My hair was up in a sloppy bun, and while I did makeup for a living, I wore none. Holy crap, I was on live TV around the world.
I couldn’t think of that now. An Atlan warlord was looming over me, breathing hard and saying mine.
“Genevieve or Willow are lovely choices for a mate. You should pick one of them,” I said, my voice shaky.
“No. You. Mate.”
My eyes widened and I stared. You could have heard a pin drop on the set… and Wulf’s ragged breathing.
“Me?” I set a hand on my chest, and his gaze dropped. Kept moving down, all the way to my feet, then back up to my face. His gaze was focused, unblinking.
“You.”
“This is a new twist, ladies and gentleman,” Chet stage-whispered. “It appears our Atlan beast has surprised everyone and chosen his mate. But she’s not a contestant. She is an employee of the studio production team, a makeup artist, if I am correct?” He looked to the producer for confirmation, and I wanted to slap the idiot.
“We know nothing about her, folks. Is she married? Does she have children? A boyfriend?” The last was said with a conspiratorial chuckle. “Our big Atlan beast wouldn’t be too pleased with that turn of events, would he?”
Wulf turned his head in Chet’s direction, glared until Chet lost his cheeky smile, then looked around at the crowd of very interested people.
Before I could even blink, Wulf scooped me up in his arms as if I really was his bride, and walked off. Yup, walked right past the backstage people, past Chet Bosworth, who was saying something frantically, and to the door that led to the backstage area.
“Wait. I… you…”
“Mine. Mate. You.”
I shook my head, but all I could think about was how strong he was, the feel of his muscles as he held me against him. How big he was. How far off the ground he held me. How hot his chest was, like he had a… fever.
Oh my God. This alien giant thought I was his mate.
My body wasn’t arguing. Reality, however, wasn’t going to play nice. I could not be mated to an alien. Could. Not. No matter how magnificent he was.
This simply was not going to work.
3
Olivia
The second the door of his makeshift dressing room slammed closed behind him, Wulf turned and pressed my back against it. He shifted me as if I weighed less than a feather so our eyes were level. He stared and stared.
I stared right back because he was inches away. All perfect, frantic alien and I was in his arms. Caught by his dark gaze.
“Mine.”
His eyes said he was deadly serious, and no matter what the handful of working brain cells I had left said to me, I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. I had never had a man, any man, look at me like he was now.
Like I was beautiful. Perfect. Desired.
Jeez, I really was in over my head here. Things had gone a little crazy in the past two minutes.
“You should… you should probably put me down so I can get back to work.” Not that I had been working, but what was I supposed to say? I had felt almost sorry for him while I’d been watching him prepare to go onstage, but now I didn’t know what to think. Maybe he had gone crazy, because he seemed to be choosing me over the two pageant-queen hotties.
His eyes narrowed, but I wasn’t scared. Surprised, definitely. No, stunned. Holy crap. But not scared. “Really. I should go. I am going to get fired.”
“No. Stay. Mine.” The beast inside him was having none of it as he used one leg to prop me up—that hard thigh right between my legs and pressing against my center—as he moved those large hands to my sides. Every touch made me burn, like he was contagious, like this mating fever he had was infecting me.
One of his hands slid along the outer edge of my breast and down my side to cup my ass. I groaned, my eyes closing before I could stop myself. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone, and not one lover had ever touched me like this. Like I was soft and vulnerable and precious. “You should stop. You made a mistake. I’m no one.”
“Mate. Mine.”
My eyes flew open, realizing he was saying the same thing over and over. He wasn’t romantic. This wasn’t candlelight and roses. This was intense. This was possessiveness to the extreme. He’d practically kidnapped me. Damned if that fact didn’t make me all hot and melty. But I was a realist. This… obsession his beast seemed to have in me was wrong. Maybe it was my shampoo, a scent that was drawing him that his real mate had. “I’m… not.”
I kinda wanted to be, ’cause what girl didn’t want this kind of attention?
My resistance made him growl, and I felt the vibrations move from his chest and into mine.
“Name.” It wasn’t a question but a demand, and I’d heard enough about these Atlan beasts on the gossip sites to know he couldn’t really say full sentences, not while his beast was in control. Maybe the special translation brain chip I’d heard everyone in space got was broken. I clearly remembered Chet stating in the first episode that Wulf had been chosen as the first bachelor beast because of his ability to speak English. He could understand it fluently because of the processor he had in his head, but it didn’t give him the ability to speak very well. He had to know the language to do that. He was no dummy. Chet talked everyone up to make the show more fanciful and exotic, but I had no idea how to speak Atlan and I wasn’t savvy enough to take a class and be able to go to the planet and be a contestant on a reality show.
God, I’d never thought of that before, how hard it must be for him to be here. Now, with his beast all focused and growly and a little crazy? No wonder he was monosyllabic.
I licked my lips, and his piercing gaze followed the action. This close, I saw how dark his eyes were, how strong his jaw, the stark line of his nose, strong brow. Every inch of him was… more. As if human guys were wimps.
“I’m Olivia. Olivia Mercier.” I thought of Genevieve and Willow. The episodes all showed them talking and Wulf listening. I’d thought him quiet. Introverted. How had the two finalists gotten to know him when he’d rarely spoken?
“You have mate?”