Page 5 of Her Alien Soldier
She wrapped up the orders that were waiting and handed them over to the servers, apologizing to each for the wait. Toa one, they waved her off and some even laughed. “No one’s dying. It’s fine,” one of the Cendilax waiters said, chuckling as he walked away.
She double-checked to make sure no more orders had come in, poured another beer and shot for the Tilesian businessman near the other end of the bar, then made her way back to Xarek.
Xarek. She liked it. His name suited him. Strong, abrupt.
He was watching her, she realized, and her stomach did a weird little flip-flop as she stood in front of him. “So?” she asked.
“Second question first: I was the choice because I am injured and unable to fulfill my duties.”
She looked him over, and when he realized what she was looking for, he gestured irritably to a spot on his chest, just above his heart. “Here. I am mostly recovered, but not enough to be of use.”
“Of use how?”
“You know my people are at war, yes?” he murmured, and she thought, then slowly nodded.
“I think I’ve heard something to that effect, yeah. Things that aren’t happening in this quadrant don’t get brought up much around here,” she added apologetically.
“I noticed,” he said, and she wasn’t sure what he thought of that. “Well, our war continues. And I’m a commander for one of our elite squadrons. While most of our people fight from the air, in ship-to-ship combat or attacking targets on the enemy planet, my squadron infiltrates the planet itself. Direct combat, sabotage, assassinations.”
“Oh…” she murmured, studying him closer. She nearly snarled in irritation when she was called away again. She held afinger up for him to wait and went to take care of her orders, her mind swimming with what he was telling her.
How annoying was it that her first instinct was to beg him not to go back?
She handed the drinks over with a smile, said goodbye to one of the regulars, then went back to him again. She looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
His gaze found hers and held it, and heat pooled low in her belly. It was like looking into a storm. Intense, definitely more than a little dangerous.
And she wanted it.
“Should I tell you more?” he asked quietly, and she nodded, not breaking eye contact.
“Since I am still recovering from my wounds, I am unable to fight as my squadron needs me to. I would be a liability on a mission. Slower, not as strong as I was before I was injured,” he said, and she could hear the sharp, angry rumble, very different from the way his voice had rumbled earlier when he’d teased her.
“I’m sorry,” she offered.
“It is hardly your fault, Maggie the bartender. But I thank you,” he said, taking a drink of ale and looking away for a moment. His gaze found hers again, and she swallowed.
“But how does the Paraxian fit into all of this?” she asked.
“He claims to have information that will help our efforts. If it is what he claims, we may finally be able to end this war. Perhaps my people will know peace and live without being exterminated as nothing more than insects.”
“That definitely explains why you’re so determined,” she said quietly, and he nodded, then gestured with a tilt of his head, drawing her attention to a server who was waiting for her.
She went to fill the next several orders, grateful for the distraction. He was… intense. Every word, every meeting of their eyes, drew her to him even more. She’d never been the kind to get swept up. But she could see how easily it could happen with the big serious alien.
And he’d be leaving, to go back to war in a place so far from here very few knew anything about it. When she went back to him, her mind was full of questions.
“How long does it take you to travel here? Even with our quadrant’s best technology, it would take years to get to where your planet is.”
“Our ships are fast. Ridiculously so. There is a complex system of natural conduits throughout the universe. Our scientists were able to study it, experiment. Learn how to use it effectively.” He thinks. “I am trying to figure out how to explain it. It takes very little time to get here. About one sleep cycle.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
“That is something I rarely do, Maggie the bartender.”
She smiled. “I wish you’d just call me Maggie.”
His gaze found hers again, held it. It was almost a physical thing, that sensation of being held by him. And she had the feeling he knew it.
