Page 25 of Challenged

He’s really an alien.

Gently, so gently, he takes my arms, moving my hands away from his head. His fingers are warm where they close around my wrists, my pulse beating hard beneath them. The amusement is gone from his expression, replaced by a softness that’s almost tender.

“Nhi Angie,” he says, his voice low, a little rough at the edges.

I can hear the roar of my blood in my ears. Suddenly, it’s like I’m looking at him through the wrong end of a telescope, his face distant from mine, even as I feel the soft brush of his breath against my cheek. Black crowds in at the edges of my vision.

By the time I recognise the sensation, it’s too late. My knees give way beneath me, and I topple into unconsciousness.

When I come to, I’m lying on the floor in the shower room, my head throbbing. I groan as I sit up, massaging my temples. It takes me a moment to remember the sequence of events that lead to me passing out on the floor, but when I do, I look round in a panic, half expecting the naked alien to be leering over me, preparing to do something unspeakable.

Instead, he’s sat on one of the benches at the edge of the room, dry and dressed in natural looking clothing. Brown trousers that appear to be made from an animal skin, and a vest that hides his chiselled physique, but not completely. The neckline is loose enough to give a tantalising glimpse as he leans forward, grinning at me.

“I hope now that I am dressed you no longer find me so overwhelming that it causes you to lose consciousness,” he says.

All my fear is instantly replaced by anger.

I scowl at him. “That’s not what it was.”

He leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest as he raises his brows at me, everything in his manner suggesting he doesn’t believe me. I blush hot red, anger and embarrassment mingling. My outrage is hampered by the fact that he looks devilishly handsome slouched back like that, his trousers stretching tight over impressive thighs, his grin wide enough to reveal those fangs again. It doesn’t seem to matter to my libido that he’s green, that his tail is flicking about behind him.

That he’s an alien.

The truth of that comes over me in waves - easy to forget for a moment, then smacking into me with a force that knocks my breath out. I wonder if I’m in danger of passing out again, but the edges of my vision remain crisp.

They weren’t lying to me. I’m on an alien planet.

Which means the rest of it - the cryostasis part - must also be true. I have been frozen in a basement, forgotten about, for nineteen years.

Baxter really did make me pay.

Only the thought that he’d be in his sixties now, probably with a middle age spread and thinning hair, makes me feel any better about it.

“I’ve been abducted, frozen for nineteen years and abandoned on an alien planet, and you think a little nudity wasthe thing to tip me into unconsciousness?” I say, my voice sharp. “You aren’t that impressive.”

I don’t like how this tastes like a lie.

His smile doesn’t shift. “You accept the truth of that now, then? Your failed attempt to wash away the colour of my skin has convinced you we are not painted?”

My blush deepens. “Yes. Clearly you aren’t… painted.”

The strange way he put this draws my attention to the fact that he’s speaking my language. When Liv had Shemza come over, they gave the impression that he only spoke a few words, and yet this guy is fluent.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” I demand, irritated that he let me panic myself into unconsciousness rather than telling me to sit down.

“You were told by Liv and the others that-”

“No, I mean, why didn’t you speak to me before? Instead of just growling at me like a wild animal.”

He chuckles. “There are many ways I can be wild, linasha. You might find you like some of them.”

Heat licks up my spine and I could curse my body for responding to his obvious attempt to get under my skin.

“My name isn’t ‘linasha’, it’s Angie.”

“I know,” he says, yellow eyes boring into me, stoking the heat he’s already sparked.

Then he shifts, and the intensity of the moment snaps. His next smile is more casual, friendly. The change is so abrupt it unsettles me almost as much as his flirtation.

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