Page 39 of An Alien for Her Heart

Squaring my shoulders, I remind myself of why I’m here. For peace. I signed up for the Initiative for peace…and this is turning into chaos.

Heading outside, I close the door behind me as I march toward the barn. That’s when I hear the undeniable hum of a machine. I halt, turning slowly as I try to figure out where the sound is coming from. Following my ears, they lead me around the cottage and toward the field. I don’t need my ears to help me now because I can see. I can see the light reflect off the iridescent scales of the alien riding a massive machine across my field.

I’m dumbstruck as I draw closer.

Half my field has been cleared, great bales of hay rolled and stacked in the center. I can just see the heads of several oogas who are hiding in what’s left of the tall grass, probably scared by the noise. My gaze shifts from them and my mouth falls open as I watch Varek clear a large swathe before he spins the machine in my direction, cutting another line as he heads my way.

The moment my gaze shifts upward, I know he’s seen me. Even from the distance, those intense eyes eat me up. There’s noreason for it—I’m damn well over whatever made me weak—but my cheeks heat anyway.

The sun’s rays reflect off his scales like he’s signed a contract with the star, the warm glow lighting him up in all the right places, casting shadows across the muscles in his chest, highlighting the contour of his jaw, his prominent brow. I don’t know where to look, where to focus. My eyes rove over him even though I’m telling myself I should look away. Because, damn it, purple really is my favorite color.

I watch as he cuts the line he’s working on before turning the machine and heading the other way. His back turned to me now, I get a moment to breathe. Goodness, this is going to be harder than I thought. Going to bed the night before, I’d convinced myself that by morning, whatever had come over me—over him—would have washed away and we’d have both come to our senses. Turns out I’m wrong. The machine hums, bumping along, its large wheels rolling over the ground and leaving flat earth in its wake. It’s like a huge lawn mower with serrated teeth at the front, each row grabbing the tall grass while some other mechanism turns them into square bales that are left behind.

It looks vaguely familiar. The serrated teeth I’d seen leaning on the back wall of the barn. The arms that set the bales down I recognize as parts I’d seen lying behind the cottage. And I soon realize the machine itself is one I thought was out of service, parked just inside the gate within another small outbuilding.

He put the pieces together in a way I could have never known to do on my own. I watch as he turns the machine once more, heading down the row in my direction. My breath hitches, and I wait for him to complete the row he’s mowing before spinning the machine in the other direction again. He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps coming down the line.

I blink, my heart stuttering somewhat as he comes closer. Thank God the rumble of the machine drowns out any othersound, because I’m pretty sure I’m screaming loud enough inside for it to be audible.

The machine slows down, the powerful engine vibrating as Varek comes to a stop.

As he leans back in the seat of the machine, one muscular arm draped casually over the steering wheel, his gaze eats me up. Shifting from my face down the loose tunic I’m wearing as a blouse then down to the dark pants I’ve pulled on this morning.

I’m completely modest. Completely covered. And yet, my skin heats under his roving gaze as if I’m dressed in nothing but my underwear.

But he isn’t the only one that’s looking. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I’m looking too. That despite myself, my gaze shifts over him as he sits so casually, so relaxed as if he’s meant to be there. As if this is just any other morning, a routine that isn’t out of place in our daily lives.

He looks like something out of a fantasy. A warrior god plucked straight from the pages of a romance novel. The sight of him, so strong and capable and undeniably masculine, sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the morning chill. I push back against it and it remains still. My body betrays me as something within me lights up, pushing back against that barrier I’m so desperately trying to hold in place.

Varek’s gaze meets mine, and even from this distance, I can feel the heat of his gaze. It’s intense, almost predatory, and yet there’s a softness there, too. A tenderness that makes my heart warm in a way I thought I’d forgotten how to feel.

He shifts in his seat, the movement making the muscles in his chest and arms flex beneath his taut, gleaming skin. Doesn’t he wear clothes? Shirts I mean. It’s distracting and I force myself to blink in an effort to pull myself away. But the effect is hypnotic, and I find myself staring, my mouth going dry as I try to remember how to breathe.

This is ridiculous, Catherine. It really is.

I’m a grown woman, one who was the top of her game back on Earth, not some starry-eyed teenager. I shouldn’t be getting weak in the knees over a bit of eye candy, no matter how incredibly attractive that eye candy might be. And especially because I have rules! Rules I’ve set for myself to follow. Morals I’m set to abide by.

But as Varek continues to watch me, his lips curving into a smile that’s equal parts promise and invitation, I can’t deny the effect he has on me. The way my pulse races and my stomach flutters, the heat that pools low in my belly and spreads through my veins like wildfire.

It’s scary. This…feeling. I haven’t allowed myself to even contemplate the possibility of desire, of want. Perhaps that’s why the force of simply his gaze is so staggering, almost frightening in its intensity.

He tilts his head, his smile widening into an almost rakish grin. “Good dawn, Catherine,” he calls out, his deep voice carrying easily over the purr of the machine. “I trust your rest was well?”

There’s a knowing glint in his eye, a hint of mischief that tells me he’s well aware of the effect he’s having on me. And damn him, but it only makes him more attractive.

I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I did, thank you,” I manage, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “And you? I see you’ve been busy.” Even though we haven’t even discussed what this contract is between us. Somehow, my tongue doesn’t move to bring that up.

Varek chuckles, the sound low and rich and far too seductive for my peace of mind. “Hard work is the best way to start the sol,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine. “I couldn’t rest, knowing there was so much to be done.”

The implication is clear, the subtext unmistakable. He’s not just talking about the field, and we both know it.

I swallow hard, my fingers curling into fists at my sides as I fight the urge to close the distance between us. To reach out and touch him, to see if his skin is still as warm and smooth as it looks.

But I can’t. Iwon’t. Not when I know that this, whatever it is, can only lead to heartache.

So instead, I force a smile, hoping it looks more convincing than it feels. “Well, I appreciate your help, Varek. Truly. But you don’t have to do all this. I’m sure you have more important things to attend to.”

He frowns, his brow furrowing in a way that shouldn’t be nearly as endearing as it is. “There is nothing more important than ensuring your comfort and happiness, Catherine. Surely you must know that by now.”

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