Page 5 of Unexpected Alien Prince

I pull on his legs and he turns so I can see the wound. On his back there are angry round welts that look for all the world like sucker marks. There are four of them and inside of each one it looks like something bit him, tearing at the flesh. Bile rises in my throat as I stare at the wounds each of which is leaking dark blue blood.

“This will hurt,” I murmur.

He grunts and I don’t give him any more warning before pouring peroxide over the wounds. It bubbles on contact as he hisses in pain. I grab a washcloth and soak it with the last of the peroxide using it to clean all around the wounds.

I bind each one individually with gauze pads and tape. He needs a doctor who can do stitches but this should at least slow the bleeding. Finishing the last one I sit back on my haunchesstaring at the bandages. I can’t bring myself to look at him. If I look into his eyes I’ll lose myself. I know it.

He hooks a hand behind my neck and gently pulls me closer. I feel like I should resist, but I don’t. He rests his head on top of mine and kisses through my hair. We sit for a long time like this. Silent, too many words to say so instead we say nothing.

“You left me,” I say, choking on the words as all the emotions surge at once. Tears slip free. I can’t hold them back.

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

I sob, trying to keep it down, but this is all too much. He’s back, all these years later, and though I’ve dreamed of this day, I never in all my life dreamed it would be like this.

“Why?”

“There’s so much…” he trails off.

His hand slides around my head to cup my chin. He lifts my face until I’m staring up at him and meeting his bright eyes. And he kisses me.

5

ADELLA

Igive myself over to the kiss. This kiss. I’ve dreamed of it so, so many times. Daydreams, sleeping dreams, fantasies and ingloriously vain hope. When we kiss it is unlike anything I’ve ever known before or since.

It’s so much more than a kiss. It’s a connection. An understanding. A knowing. Really there aren’t words that describe it and nothing since has ever been able to replace it or even come close. Our lips move together and I run my hands through his gorgeous, long, supple white hair. Over the hard muscles of his shoulders.

No. He left me. I’m not doing this. It’s not this easy.

I jerk away, pushing him back. Shaking my head I hold up a hand between us. He looks appropriately chastised. Just the way I’d imagined he would in the fantasies I’d imagined of this moment.

“No, you left,” I say, rising. “It’s not this easy.”

He frowns and nods his head.

“You are right, of course, my pari,” he says softly.

My heart leaps at the word. It’s the pet name he gave me. I’d never heard the word before he said it, but I’d looked it up after he was gone. It meant beauty, or face of an angel, depending who you believed. It always made me feel special and damn it if it doesn’t still have the same warm tingling effect.

I back out of the bathroom knowing that if I continue standing this close to him we’ll end up in bed without further explanation. He has that effect on me. I look at him and I want him. I want to be as close to him as possible then figure out a way to be even closer.

“Come on,” I say, turning my back on him and returning to the living room. “It’s time you explain what in the hell is going on.”

He obediently follows. It’s one of the things that I always loved about him. We had such an easy switching of roles together. At times I would be the dominant one and he would meekly obey but then other times he was and I obeyed.

I pointedly sit in the single chair in the living room, leaving him the love seat. Before he left we’d always cuddle there together, but now is not the time for that. He looks from me to the loveseat with a clear look of disappointment. He purses his lips and subtly nods before taking the open seat with a grimace and a groan of pain.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he says, raising his empty hands between us then dropping them to his lap. His eyes bore into me, searching for something, understanding or forgiveness maybe.

“You think?”

A fleeting smile dances over his lips. He always loved it when I was sarcastic.

“There’s my pari,” he whispers. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to but… things happened too fast.”

“Too fast?” I ask, incredulously. “We were together for two years. How is that fast?”

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