Page 24 of Her Alien Soldier
He turned his head and caught her looking at him, giving her one of those small almost-smiles that had first made her heart skip.
She knew he was a man on a mission. Literally. But over the last few days he’d made her feel more and more sure that he had room in his life for her, and for the mission. She’d support him however he needed, and, someday, maybe he’d be able to fully relax.
The get-together lasted long into the night, only breaking up when Georgina started grumbling about having to work in the morning. By the time everyone was gone, Maggie was more than ready to climb into bed with Xarek and not come out. As if he seemed to sense it, he gave her one of his small smiles, picked her up, and carried her to bed.
She watched him as he slowly peeled her socks off, then her pants, sliding them off her hips and down her thighs.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting my darling one comfortable. The food was fantastic and that was the most fun I have had, other than the fun we have alone, in quite some time.”
She smiled, her heart doing a little stutter-step as he pulled her top off, lowering his face to hers to kiss her lips. She moanedsoftly, and he deepened the kiss, his mouth worshipping hers in a way that left her breathless, nearly weeping with how tender he was with her in moments like these.
The moment which was shattered when she heard Baris’s voice over her quarters’ comms. “Maggie. There is a Paraxian here. Might want to tell your Altarian friend.”
Xarek froze, and Maggie cleared her throat. In the next instant, he was gone, moving away from her without another word, grabbing his communicator off the nightstand as he left her quarters.
Chapter Eleven
Maggie lay in bed, just as he’d left her. Naked, her body still thrumming from his kisses, from the feel of his mouth on hers after the night they’d shared with her friends. She took a second to pull herself together, or try to, and then she forced herself out of bed, mechanically pulling on a pair of cozy, loose-fitting pants and a soft sweater.
She selected hot cocoa from the beverage station in her kitchen, then brought it to her reading chair. She took a deep breath, then brought the cup to her mouth, letting the soothing smell and taste of creamy hot chocolate do what it could to calm her frayed senses.
She felt like she’d been taken apart and left to put the jumbled pieces back together again.
Those warning bells she’d tried so hard to ignore, knowing they were true, smugly sat silent now. He’d never claimed to be anything other than what he was: a man on a mission, and that mission came first. She understood that.
And she’d still opened herself up to all of it. She hadn’t expected everything to be so intense. To trust him and willingly hand herself over to him.
She knew better. This wasn’t the kind of place for that. Everyone who didn’t work at the station was temporary. It was more like living in a huge hotel, watching people come and go as they went about their lives. And she loved that about working there, living there. She’d been smart, until now. She’d kept things casual and fun and light and it had worked.
But from the moment she’d looked at Xarek, there had been nothing casual or light about it, and she wanted to kick herself for being so foolish about him. If there’d been any doubt about his priorities—and there never had been, since he’d been up front about it—it was evident now. He’d left her, needy, aroused, ready to give him anything he wanted from her, without a backward glance or even a word of regret.
That last part… yeah, that pissed her off and hurt probably more than it should. Like she was nothing. That part wasn’t okay, no matter how important his mission was.
She took another deep breath and sipped her cocoa.
Well, that was that. She wasn’t going to be caught by surprise with her boobs hanging out again. And she sure the hell wasn’t going to pine over him when he left.
Screw that.
Xarek strode into the bar, the scent of Maggie still clinging to his skin, the taste of her kisses still on his tongue.
All he wanted was to get this done so he could get back to her.
His gaze searched the bar, and he spotted the Paraxian sitting to the side of the stage, where the accursed Tilesians were playing, loud, their lead singer wailing like a wounded animal.
He would never cease to be surprised by the appearance of the Paraxian people. With their reputation for the ability to cause technological destruction and get into places they had no business in, he always expected them to be diminutive, thin, wisps. But the Paraxians were built like warriors, just as much as his own people and the Bellarians were. This one had a warm tan complexion and stark white hair. He was dressed in plain, serviceable clothing that, Xarek assumed, had as many hidden pockets as his own.
As he approached, the Paraxian gave him a nod, then lifted the mug of ale he was holding to his mouth. “Well met,” he said as Xarek sat down.
“Likewise. You are late.”
The Paraxian smirked. “Good work takes time, Altarian.”
“And is the good work complete?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as he watched the Paraxian.
“It is indeed. Planetary defense will fall the instant one of your ships is in range, and a self-replicating virus will make it impossible for them to get those defenses back with any speed,” he said in a low voice, both males leaning forward now, resting their forearms on the table. “I recommend having your entire strike fleet arrive at the same time. A fast, devastating barrage will render them helpless for quite a while. Our quadrant can finally have peace,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment, almost as if he was praying.
