Page 5 of Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster

Falden’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he combed his stinging hand through his hair in frustration. He was absolutely sure she’d just slapped him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember if that was supposed to be a good sign or a bad one, according to the list.

Isabella continued to stare with large, innocent doe eyes until the waiter arrived with two ice waters and two glasses of Scotch, which, had he asked, she would have told him she preferred her Scotch served neat. And really, she hadn’t planned on drinking at all.

As the waiter positioned their drinks, she took the opportunity to look around him, glancing toward her friend, Jessica, who still sat at the bar. Their gazes locked, and Jessica motioned in an odd way with her chin, moving her gaze to the side and behind her “date” to one of the booths. There, seated in plain sight, were two more smoking-hot alien males, dressed identically to him in black pants, designer shoes and tight black mock turtlenecks that stretched across impressively muscled chests.

Jeez. Why did all Caldorians have to come in just one flavor? Super-hot? She’d seen enough aliens on around their base and on the news to know their warriors were sexy as sin. But John—no way that was his real name—was entirely next level sexy. She didn’t do one-night stands, not since her early college days. But this one? Temptation had a new posterchild. Too bad he was such an ass.

The thought forced her to hide a grin behind a small cough. She could just hear her friend, Jessica now, ‘You don’t need him to talk, girlfriend.’

Isabella settled her hand in her lap as the waiter cleared his throat, his gaze anywhere but on her. Shit. This was really going to make her angry. Even the waiter was buying into the man-in-charge bullshit.

Shifting from foot to foot nervously, the waiter asked her male companion, “Are you ready to order? We have a delicious menu. Would you like me to go over the chef’s specials?”

Isabella opened her mouth to say yes, she would love to hear the specials, when an ultra-deep, sexy voice filled the silence. “I’ll have the filet, rare. Nothing on the side. The lady will have the spinach salad with vinaigrette dressing. Earth women watch their weight.”

The waiter glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with her, clearly apprehensive if the hands twisting around and around one another at his waist were any indication.

Why argue? This wasn’t a real date. She smiled through clenched teeth at the waiter, her head churning with anger, not so much for him but for the man sitting next to her. She really wanted to brain him with her purse. “The salad will be fine. Right next to the blackened salmon.”

“Very good.” The waiter took the menus that neither had opened and scurried away like the hounds of hell were after him. Isabella lifted her glass of Scotch whiskey in silent salute and took a sip before looking at her “date” again.

And God, did she look. He was too perfect to be real. At least on the outside. Usually big men sacrificed speed for strength. If she had to guess, she would say he was an exception. Everything about him screamed predator. Dangerous. Powerful. A true alpha male. He oozed confidence. Authority. She’d never known icy blue could burn so hot, but the heat in his eyes set her on fire. Every feminine cell in her body was screaming that she needed to have hot, sweaty sex with him. Lots of it. Needed him to fill her again and again. Mark her. Make her his. But her brain screamed just as loudly against it. She couldn’t get around the asshole factor. Which was high.

He watched her with an intensity that made her nervous. “Thank you, Isabella, for agreeing to go out with me.”

That was it. He obviously didn’t know the code words. He knew herreal name.So, who the hell was he and how had he known she would be here? “My pleasure, truly.” She didn’t even choke on the lie.

“And I thank you for your punctuality. I do not tolerate tardiness,” he added, completely ignoring her name correction.

Well, well, well. Asshole was back.

“I also insist on paying for our purchases this evening, as I asked you to meet with me.”

Paying for our purchases? Purchases she was not allowed to choose for herself? Really generous, this one. Honestly, he sounded like he was reading from a script. A really bad one.

And he was wrong. Dead wrong. She was the one who had set up this meeting, and not with him.

So what had happened to her real contact? And who was this guy?

Curiosity spinning out of control, she settled in to find out what she could. They were in public, he was sexy, and he was obviously after something. Maybe this was the lead she needed, a clue sitting across from her smelling like a sex god. She’d done worse for a story. And she’d do whatever it took to find her missing friend.

At least she wouldn’t have to pay for the stupid salad. She hated salad. As she’d insisted since she was a child, much to her mother’s disappointment, she was not a rabbit.

He seemed perturbed by her lack of response. “I am being very generous.”

She nearly choked on her next two words. “Of course, John. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She knew that wasn’t his real name, but she had nothing else to call him.

“Of course you do.” Falden’s expression was impossible to read, leaving her at a complete loss as to what to say. What a weirdo.

Tapping her shoe on the hardwood floor, she took a sip of water, swallowed the fire from the liquor still burning its way down her throat to her stomach, and forced as natural a smile as she could manage onto her face. Her decision was made. She needed to turn this anonymous “drop” into something more.

She wanted him to take her back to the base with him. This could be her only chance to find out what had happened to Sevron. She needed to change her tactics. Draw him in. Make him like her. Want her. Images of him naked, touching her, filling her, raced through her mind before she could stop them. He’d ordered her drink. Her food. Would he be the type to order her around in bed? Take command of her body? He was so big. Strong. He could spread her open and work on her for hours. A frisson of heat uncoiled deep inside her. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do on the base?”

Falden watched Isabella take another drink of water, his eyes glued to her lower lip as it clung slightly to the glass before she set it down. His imagination went into overdrive thinking about what her mouth, her hands, her body would feel like as he took her. He wanted to kiss her. Touch her soft skin. Pound his hard shaft deep into her core again and again until she was begging for the release only he could give her. He wanted to hear her scream his name as he pushed her over the edge of control. Planted his hot seed deep in her belly. She was so much smaller than he was. He would have to make sure she was ready for someone of his massive size. Prepare her with his hands. His mouth. Without conscious thought he mirrored her actions, lifting the glass he’d been holding and taking a long, slow drink before answering her question. “Work.”

Isabella nodded as if his response didn’t make her want to throw something at him. His expression was unreadable. Only his eyes burned with inner fire. What was he thinking? He still hadn’t said the correct phrase. Was he toying with her, making her think the deal was still on while all along figuring out where to hide her body after he killed her? What was wrong with her, fantasizing about this guy? So he was hot. So he looked like he could make her every erotic fantasy come true. She only had to think of her ex to remember just how deceiving looks could be. She needed to stay focused. He was not making her job any easier with one syllable responses.Man of many words.Work.Ha. A real poet, this one. Sheesh.

Lifting her hand, she signaled the waiter with her empty glass that she’d like another. This was going to be a long, long night if he didn’t start talking. Hopefully he’d open up soon. She was a reporter. She knew how to get people talking, even the stubborn ones. And he’d obviously crashed her party for a reason.

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