Page 29 of Claimed By the Alien Warlord

“Toobig,” I counter, striding toward the garage. I yank a tarp off a gunmetal gray Range Rover. “We’ll take this.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh, now we’re talking.”

She climbs into the passenger seat, but as soon as we hit the winding road to Mirror Lake, she’s leaning forward, gripping the dashboard. “Faster,” she urges, her voice full of mischief.

I glance at her, the corners of my mouth twitching. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Damn right. Come on, Gary Irons, billionaire speed demon. Show me what this beauty can do.”

I press the accelerator, the engine roaring as we hug the curves. Her laughter fills the cabin, wild and carefree. I can’t help but think how magnificent she is—unafraid, bold, completely alive.

When we reach the lake, we pull up to a boat rental shop. The owner, a grizzled man with a suspicious glare, takes one look at me and scowls. “We’re closed.”

Reily steps in front of me, flashing her most charming smile. “Hey, Jimmy. Listen, I’m trying to show Mr. Irons here what he’s going to destroy if he builds that dam. Give us a chance to change his mind, huh?”

Jimmy’s eyes narrow, but he relents. “Fine. But it’ll cost you.”

I pull out my wallet, tossing twice the rental fee on the counter without a word. Jimmy pockets the cash with a grunt, gesturing toward a decent-sized fishing boat.

Reily takes the helm, guiding us out onto the water with practiced ease. “See? You’re already learning something.”

“How to overpay for a boat?” I grumble, sinking into the seat beside her.

She laughs, shoving my shoulder. “No, dummy. How to appreciate what’s right in front of you.”

We anchor near a quiet spot, and she hands me a fishing rod. “Here. Let’s see if you can catch something.”

I frown, examining the contraption. “I just sit here? And wait?”

“Yep. It’s called patience. You should try it sometime.”

I glare at her, but she’s already casting her line, her focus on the water. The silence is… peaceful. Uncomfortably so. I’m used to action, todoing. But here, with her, it’s different.

After a while, she points to the shoreline. “Look at that. See those families? The kids playing? The people kayaking? That’s what you’re going to take away, Gary. All of it.”

I shift, uneasy. “The dam isn’t about destroying. It’s about rebuilding. Coldwater needs jobs, stability?—”

“And this is the only way to do it?” She turns to me, her eyes piercing. “Come on, Mr. Billionaire Genius. Surely you can come up with something better.”

Her fingers brush my chest, trailing lightly over my shirt. My breath catches, and I look down at her, resisting the urge to pull her into my lap.

She bats her eyelashes, her voice softening. “You’re smart. You’re powerful. You don’t have to do this. Please, Gary.”

Her use of my human name sends a jolt through me. I exhale, defeated. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She grins, victorious. “And yet, here you are.”

I reach out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

Her smile widens, and she leans into my touch. “Knew you’d see it my way.”

I groan, shaking my head. “You’re going to be the death of me, Reily Dawson.”

“Maybe,” she says, her voice light. “But you’ll die happy.”

I can’t argue with that.

The tug on the line snaps me out of my thoughts. I reel in the bluegill, its scales glinting in the sunlight. It’s a small thing, barely worth the effort, but Reily’s grin makes it feel like a victory.

---