Guardian Alien: a sci-fi alien romance (OtherWorldly Men Book 1) Read online

  “You’re alive,” she said. “That’s what’s important.” She steered him into the family room, where a newspaper from several days ago still sat on the coffee table next to several little balls of crumpled foil—evidence of devoured chocolate kisses and the addiction Evie bemoaned constantly.

  Jana turned a switch and the gas fireplace whooshed to life, bringing instant warmth. “Sit down, Cavin.” He sat heavily on the chaise portion of a leather sectional littered with pillows and cozy woolen blankets.

  Sadie hopped up on the couch next to him. By now, the growling had subsided to an occasional high-pitched gurgle that the dog probably intended to sound threatening.

  “Do you need help getting out of that armor, Cavin?” Good one, Jana. You’ve been looking for excuses to get him out of that space suit all night. Behave yourself.

  “I have this.” He reached for a compartment mounted on the outside of his thigh, withdrew a small tool about the size and shape of a little screwdriver.

  Uh-oh. “I hope you’re not planning to perform surgery. I give blood regularly, but if I watch it go into the collection bag, I get sick. And then there was the time I passed out after getting a flu shot…”

  “It’s a tool, not a scalpel. I’ll need it to remove the armor. Normally the AI in my suit would open the seams, but it’s been malfunctioning since the crash. I’ll have to do it manually.”

  Translated, it meant he was getting undressed. It was all the motivation she needed to keep from passing out.

  Cavin pulled off his gloves and used the tool he’d dug out of his pocket to unfasten the armor a little at a time. The outfit had no buttons, zippers or recognizable fasteners. “Jana, I could use your help getting out of these sleeves.”

  She perked up. I thought you’d never ask. She took hold of the sleeve so he could draw out his arm. “Pull,” she said, pressing a knee on the couch for leverage. She tossed one casing to the floor and then the other.

  His leg casings came off next, then the boots, and finally the torso armor was open. He spread the armor apart like a clamshell and removed it. Jana leaned forward in breathless anticipation. It was like watching the unwrapping of a Christmas present.

  Underneath the armor, he wore a black shirt made of soft, plush fabric. Like long underwear, it hugged his chest and broad shoulders. Now that he’d removed his boots, she was able to better guess his height. Maybe six feet one or two. He probably weighed in around two-ten or twenty and not an ounce looked to be anything but lean, hard muscle.

  Then she saw the blood.

  Wet, dark red, hard to discern against the black shirt. “You’re bleeding!”

  “Seeping, really.”

  “Seeping, bleeding, leaking, dripping, does it make a difference? You’re hurt.” She ran to the kitchen and returned with towels. “We’ve been running around all night. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “And what would that have done other than worry you? We couldn’t have stopped and done anything about it.” He lifted the T-shirt higher, revealing a flat belly, a fine set of abs, and a bloody bruise slashed through the center by a nasty laceration.

  “Ugh,” she said, feeling woozy.

  “The instrument panel almost gutted me when it shattered.”

  “Stop.” She held up both hands. Then her geeky curiosity rose to the surface. “Why isn’t your armor torn?”

  “It was at the time of impact. But it sealed over the wound to protect it, as it’s supposed to do.”

  He cleaned the wound using some ointment. Then he squeezed the contents of a different tube over the wound and massaged it in. Her stomach rolled. “You must have incredible pain tolerance.”

  “Not really. The armor injected enough painkillers to keep it under control.”

  Not magic, Jana thought, but almost as good.

  “But I am sore—” he winced “—on the inside.”

  “Internal injuries?” she asked weakly.

  “My biosigns didn’t show evidence of internal bleeding. But that was before I lost the artificial intelligence in my suit.” He pulled a handful of something out of his tool kit. Several silver squares sat in his palm, each no bigger than a ladybug. “Little robots. They’re mechanical. They don’t emit a signal or pulse that the REEF can detect.” He spilled them onto his stomach. “Good in a pinch, they’re programmed to stitch closed a wound.”

  The tiny robots crawled over to the laceration, making snail trails in the ointment. Nausea welled up in her throat and she had to avert her eyes. “Won’t it hurt?”

  “They excrete a painkiller as they go. It’s long-lasting, too. The ointment will speed the knitting of my skin. A couple of your Earth days and I’ll be healed.”

  With almost undetectable clicking noises, the little robots set to work stitching closed Cavin’s wound. Jana felt the blood roaring in her ears. The next thing she knew, Cavin had pulled her onto the couch next to him. He’d already stretched something that resembled skin over the ugly wound, hiding it. “Did I pass out?” she asked.

  “Almost. I see why you chose politics over medicine.”

  “Most people do at some point.”

  He laughed. Smiling, Jana let her head fall onto his shoulder. It reminded her of when they’d fallen to the ground exhausted and laughing after attempting to fly in tandem. Twenty-three years had meant nothing; she was as comfortable with him now as she was when she was nine. There were no words to describe his effect on her: a soul-deep contentment, a feeling of having arrived home whenever he took her in his arms. It seemed right somehow, having “Peter” back, as if with his reappearance something in her life had finally fallen into place.

  Was she crazy? If sheltering aliens, stealing cars, speeding, evading arrest and lying to law enforcement officers was “falling into place” then surely it was the wrong place!

  But she could enjoy being with him, couldn’t she? Until she figured out what to do about him. Jana pulled on the hem of his shirt to smooth it over the bandage. “When you healed me that night, the night you left, I thought it was magic.”

  “I let you think that. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Their eyes met, and her heart did its usual flip. “It still feels like magic, being with you,” she whispered shyly.

  His green gaze intensified so swiftly that it felt as though all the air had left the room. “Ah, Squee,” he whispered. His fingertip traced her hairline from her cheekbone down to her jaw. “So many nights, I thought of you. When I was still a boy, those thoughts were innocent. But as I grew older, and you grew into a woman in my mind, those thoughts became increasingly carnal.”

  Carnal…just the way he uttered the word should be illegal.

  “In my mind, I’ve made love to you so many times. Thought of you in my arms, in my bed…” He leaned closer, hesitated, then closed the rest of the distance between them. His thumb brushed across her lips, parting them, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he slipped his fingers into her hair and pulled her close, pressing his cheek to hers. His skin was hot, his beard sharp. A shudder ran through her and she imagined his entire body pressed against hers, skin to hot skin. “Sometimes you’d be with me on the ship, in my bunk, and sometimes we’d be outside.”

  His breath rushed past her ear and made her shiver. Thump, thump, thump went the drumbeat now centered distractingly in her crotch. “Where outside?” she breathed and felt his lips form a smile.

  “Where? Where do I start? Ah…there was a remote assignment once, on a world covered by the thickest of rain forests. The air was steamy, dense. Seductive. It felt painted on you, the air, on your skin. Everywhere it smelled of the plant life, the flowers. It was a long trek on foot to where we had to deploy. We walked all through the night into the day, and the day cycle on that world was very, very long. As the sun rose, I imagined you were there with me, our hair, our clothes, drenched by the rain…”

  He touched his lips to her ear. “I’d strip you, kiss the water from your skin, chasing streams of it wit
h my tongue, everywhere it went. Then I’d take you, up against a tree, your legs wrapped around me.”

  His hot, whispered words seared an image behind her eyes: a steamy jungle; Cavin, his pants down around his knees; her: naked in the warm soaking downpour, pressed against a slippery, wet palm tree, her thighs open, locked around him; he’d feel so hot compared to the rain, thrusting between her legs and bringing her to orgasm.

  Jana forgot how to breathe. The drums were pounding now, a wild, primitive beat. “I’ve never done it against a tree…” Heck, she’d never had sex outside, period. In rooms with windows wide-open, sure, and a few times with a sliding door open to a backyard pool, but that didn’t count. The men she’d chosen never would have suggested doing it out in the open or anywhere else she’d want to be with Cavin, which was anywhere and everywhere.

  “But it wouldn’t matter where I loved you,” he whispered hotly, stroking her hair and holding her close. “Inside, outside, it wouldn’t make a difference. Only how it felt being inside you, Jana. That’s all I’ve wanted to know. How you’d feel. How you’d respond to me….”

  She found his mouth and kissed him. Not soft, not tender—hungry. She couldn’t help it; she needed to feel him, to feel him now.

  It’s just a kiss, she thought as he held her face in his hands, his mouth wet and hot, exploring as their breaths came faster, uneven. Just a kiss. She lost herself in the sensation, losing herself in him, as if she’d never been able to completely do with anyone else. Magic.

  What was happening? She wasn’t supposed to be doing this!

  Jana moved her hands to his shoulders and gave a halfhearted push, but her mouth didn’t want to stop.

  “Gods,” she heard him mutter. “I swore on the gods.” He released her and fell back against the cushions.

  Jana slumped next to him. They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, dazed and on fire. “You did swear on the gods,” she said. “Little good it did.”

  “You started it.”

  “Ha. You were the one talking about rain. And trees!”

  “Talking, Jana. Talking is different from doing. You kissed me.”

  “You kissed me back,” she pointed out.

  “I sure as hell did.” She loved the way his speech was growing more and more colloquial. The program in his brain seemed to be improving over time. “But I’m not the one who feels the need to behave. You are. The only reason I am behaving is because I’m trying to respect your wishes and your reasons that I do so. It doesn’t mean that I like it.”

  “Who says I do?”

  “How much longer, Jana? How much longer until I can have you?”

  The husky, sexy way he said “have you” started up the drumbeat all over again. She wanted him to have her. She wanted him to have her every which way. She wanted him to have her now. She crossed her legs.

  All thoughts of interstellar armies and alien invasions went out the window with the dark glint in his eyes. Did he have any idea how sexy he was? Probably. She was sure he’d been with plenty of women over the years, but how did he ever escape getting hitched? “How did you avoid getting married, anyway? Or whatever your culture calls it when you hook up with one woman for life.”

  He shrugged. “My career kept me on the move and gone from home for six months out of every one of your years, sometimes longer, depending on the deployment. And I wasn’t looking for a wife. Maybe, if there had been someone…I might have considered it, but I never found her. I sought the company of women for sex, and vice versa. Sometimes, I’d stay with a lover for more than a few weeks or months, but rarely. If they’d been anything like you, it may have been more, but they weren’t.”

  She thought about the conversation she’d had with her grandfather at breakfast. “If I’d have found someone like you, I would have been married by now.”

  Cavin leaned toward her. “I’m glad you’re single.” His rumbly he said. His breath sent tingles spinning down her spine.

  “You might be glad I’m single, but my family isn’t. My Grandfather wants me to make a politically advantageous marriage.”

  “And you?” He watched her carefully.

  “And me?”

  “Is a politically advantageous marriage what you want, Jana?”

  Did it matter what she wanted, deep down? “My family is everything. I would never do anything to disappoint them. Or embarrass them.”

  Sadie made a weird whining snore and rolled onto her back. Her legs were sticking straight up. “She has the right idea. It’s nearly four. We’d better get to bed,” Jana said.

  Cavin stretched. “Where will we sleep?”

  “You’ll sleep in the guest room. I’ll show you.”

  Instantly awake, Sadie hopped off the couch and followed them to Evie’s extra downstairs bedroom. The walls were painted a creamy chocolate. There were caramel curtains and a whipped-cream-white down comforter dotted with round red pillows. Jana called it the ice-cream sundae room.

  With a tender expression, Cavin watched Jana as she readied the bed for him and found the toiletries he’d need. Finally, she leaned against the door frame as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He scratched a sleepy hand across his chest and looked too delicious for words.

  Sadie hopped up on the plush bed and in seconds had passed out again. “You’ll have company tonight,” Jana said. “Is that okay?”

  “It’s not who I’d prefer to wrap in my arms all night, but she’ll do.”

  In bed, if his hands are half as hot as his eyes, I might never want to climb out.

  “But, you are trying to resist me, so I’ll say no more,” he said, his tone edged with mischief. “Good night, Jana. Rest well.” He settled back on the mattress with a slight wince as he clasped his hands and slid them behind his head.

  His words might say “no” but every molecule in Jana’s body said “yes.” Only the promises she’d made kept her anchored to this side of sanity. Or was that celibacy?

  Not to mention her vow to stay under the radar, to keep her nose clean. What had happened with that? Half of her wanted to weep from the frustration of seeing all her good intentions go horribly awry. The other half wanted to beat Cavin to within an inch of his life for his part in making that happen.

  “Good night,” she said and limped away before she could change her mind about where she wanted to sleep.

  She trudged upstairs to Evie’s bedroom and without taking off her suit or pulling down the silk, crème brûlée comforter she fell face first into the huge downy bed and let it swallow her up.

  Peter was back. Her magical, exotic boy, sleeping downstairs in Evie’s spare bedroom. Everything she was today was because of him. And now it looked as if everything she’d become would also be because of him. For better or for worse.

  THE ASSASSIN MOVED from shadow to protective shadow as he searched for shelter for the night. His damaged invisibility sputtered, causing him to alternate between being visible and not. With or without the assistance of technology, he needed to remain unseen. He was an alien on this world, a stranger. A predator. He would not hesitate to disable any creature that came between him and his objective. And he knew how to do it without calling attention to who or, rather, what, he was.

  But now his focus was to get inside for the night.

  The street was an urban byway, not residential. The air smelled like fossil fuel and rotting garbage. In the distance, automobiles coursing along elevated roads made muffled roars. It was dark and his sight was obscured by the precipitation that had led to him losing a visual on the man he’d been assigned to track down and kill. A man with views on Coalition policy that apparently had troubled one or more individuals in the highest echelons of government. Reef hadn’t been expressly told this, but it was not difficult to infer. It was his job to read what was not written, to see what was not shown, to hear what was not said. The more he knew about his target, the better he could predict his behavior, which made for a more timely and efficient termination.

  Fa
r Star was probably a highly capable soldier resistant to cronyism, as well as an independent thinker; unfortunately, in the Coalition military, that was the fastest way to find yourself dead, usually on a battlefield with a plasma hole in the back of your head, or in a transport “accident.” But this particular soldier must have been seen as enough of a credible threat by the people who wanted him dead for them to take extra precautions to ensure it was accomplished. And they’d done that by hiring Reef.

  But it mattered not, Far Star’s personal history. Reef tracked, he found, he killed. It didn’t make a difference what sort of life his quarry had led before he ended it. Life itself meant little to Reef. One the other hand, a job well executed meant everything.

  But why his target had come here, to this backward, backwoods world, Reef had no idea. It made his task more difficult. Then again, it made the hunt more of a challenge. An easy kill was no fun. And so far this soldier had proved to be anything but easy. Reef was going to enjoy this assignment.

  A warehouse loomed ahead. Reef peered through a window. The optical implants on his retinas showed no infrared activity. Using an electromagnetic pulse, he disabled the security system—as well as all the computers, clocks and any machinery stored inside the building. Collateral damage was often necessary to keep him functional by assuring his safety.

  Status: secure.

  He used his laser knife to open the door and slipped inside. He found a back corner in the dark and hunkered down. It was quiet. He was alone. Different planet, same condition as always, he thought, and tried to keep feelings out of it. A REEF assassin was not programmed to feel lonely. But there was enough human in him to know he was cold and hungry. He turned up the temperature control on his armor, but it didn’t respond. It, too, had been damaged in the crash, along with his bioengineered link to his armor. It was the only reason that the soldier, his target, still lived tonight.

  Had Reef been in good working order, the soldier would have been dead, and Reef on his way out. Rather, he would have been calling for pickup. His ship was too damaged to fly. But it was what it was. Hundreds of missions and this was his first accident.