Looking for love on all the wrong planets…

When Brooklyn Carter flees from an abusive ex, a friend suggests the perfect bodyguard—an honest-to-goodness alien. Ajax is built like a tank, willing to do the job in exchange for a green card marriage, and best of all, he can’t and won’t touch her. His genetic modifications give him super strength, which means he carefully avoids all contact with fragile humans. But once they start spending time together, Brooklyn begins to wonder what it would be like if he could touch her. Now all she can think about is exactly that… and how to trade safety for the courage to go after what she wants.

Instead of my impassioned speech removing barriers, his face closes in and he manages to look even more miserable than he did a minute ago. “No deserve Brooklyn. Too strong. Many problems.”

Oh, man. He means every word too. I can tell. “That’s so not true.”

But then I falter. What am I doing? He’s right—this is a very difficult line to walk when I’m pretty gun shy in the first place and he’s already broken my arm once today. Maybe I should give it a rest and wait until I’m in a better place.

Except no one has ever told me they don’t deserve me. Like I’m special and he’s not good enough. That’s total crap, but the pure agony in his voice runs through my head on an endless loop. You don’t say something like that to a woman you think of as your employer.

And a woman trying to be brave doesn’t let it go.

“Just tell me this,” I say. “What if we can find a way to fix the problems? Will you at least admit that you want to try?”

Slowly, he nods, his gaze on me, dark and full of something delicious. “Yes.”

“Good,” I say and I’m shocked at how shaky my voice is. “Hold out your arms like this.”

I demonstrate a spread-eagle stance and he does it, his expression intrigued. Without taking time to think through what I’m doing, I operate on instinct alone and step into his body, wrapping my arms around his torso.

Ajax jerks as we align and lowers his arms in response, but quickly flings them back up and away from me. That’s perfect. My ear rests against his chest and the thumps beyond the wall of flesh and bone must be his heart. It’s erratic and loud and the sound of it thrills through me.

“See, this is okay, right?” I murmur.

Rumbly sounds that must be his answer vibrate through my cheek but it’s not English and I don’t bother to ask for a translation because I’m too busy running my palms along his back. Good God, the man’s muscles feel like granite under my fingertips. He’s got so many fascinating contours that I might spend an hour here and never learn everything about my husband’s body.

I want to learn. I try to be shocked at how much this is turning me on, but I fail spectacularly. I’m completely free to do whatever I please with a man and it’s heady to have that much control. The hot arrows shooting through me make me a lot braver than I was expecting. Enough that I draw back a little and slide my palms up the contours of his chest until I’m standing on my tiptoes so I can cup his jaw.

It’s smooth. Warm. He watches me, his gaze going dark with pleasure as I feather a thumb over his lips. Call me brazen, but I can’t help it.

“Will you let me kiss you?” I ask huskily and thank you God he can’t possibly see the blush I know is heating up my cheeks. “I can’t reach unless you bend down.”

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