Page 9 of Her Alien Soldier
The Bellarian nodded. “I could be. And it’s smart not to trust. But it also wouldn’t hurt to take my advice. The human seems to like you. She’d help you without much complaint, I think.”
“Perhaps.”
The Bellarian looked around, sighed, then turned back to Xarek.
“I am Andethor, Bellari Intelligence Officer, First Class,” the Bellarian said in an almost indecipherable voice, his hand covering his mouth as if he was yawning.
Xarek paused for a moment, then nodded. And said nothing.
Andethor grinned, then took a drink. “Keep your secrets, Altarian. But take my advice, too. Be less conspicuous in your vigil.” With that, Andethor tapped on the bar, nodded at Xarek, and walked toward the stage, where the rest of his band was assembling.
Xarek frowned, then took a long drink of his ale. It was not the worst idea, he could admit that. He was rather conspicuous. He supposed he could always just say he enjoyed the ale. And he would. And mention his injury and the need to recover, even though he hated to do so.
It felt like weakness.
As far as using Maggie in that way… while his body fairly roared in approval at the idea of having her perched on his lap, pressed against him, his head warned that it was a terrible idea. He’d never want to let her go. He would want far more than for it to be an act.
He would be distracted from his mission.
And the idea of holding another woman on his lap was as distasteful to him at this point as eating raw Telaarian sea fungus.
The band started playing, and he blew out a breath. He could pretend he was here to drink and enjoy music. It was a start.
Chapter Four
Maggie sat on the window seat in her quarters, still comfortably dressed in her soft pajamas, sipping tea from one of the antique porcelain cups she’d brought with her from Earth, a paper copy of Tolkein’s “The Two Towers” in her lap.
She couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. She’d torn through “Fellowship of the Ring” in a couple of days. She took a break from reading to take a sip of her tea and look out the window. The vastness of space greeted her. The stars shone, and every once in a while a ship would streak past, arriving or departing from Asterion Station.
She’d heard others from Earth say that it made them feel lonely, to look out at all of that emptiness. She never felt that way. It wasn’t empty. It was beautiful. On Earth it was easy to feel like the only people in existence, but living here, it was very clear that humans were not alone. It made her happy.
Of course, thinking of other races made her think of Xarek. It didn’t take much to bring the big, serious, grumpy, powerful Altarian to mind lately. He was almost always there. And she was trying very hard to get him not to be. This was… different. She’d had her share of flings with good looking males who’d come through. A few hours or a night of fun, and then a fond farewell when they left. He… was different. She had a sneaking suspicion that when he left, she’d miss him. She’d remember his name, the way he smelled, the sight of those almost-smiles when she amused him.
Missing someone, that empty, needy, lost feeling… that was the worst.
She was just lifting her cup to her lips when the alert toned that someone was outside her quarters. She set her cup down and got up, frowning a little. Maintenance was early. They were supposed to be there later to fix one of the lights in her sleeping area.
She pressed the button to open the doors and nearly groaned. Xarek was there, broad form filling the doorway, almost as if she’d summoned him with her thoughts.
He was about to speak when he almost seemed to freeze, his gaze darting hungrily to her body before he forced it back up to her eyes. All it took was that one hungry glance. She could feel her nipples harden beneath the pink silk top. This was her favorite pajama set. Pink, long sleeved, comfortable top, loose flowy pants. Not sexy in the least, but he’d looked at her, for a moment at least, like she’d answered the door naked.
“Xarek? Is everything all right?” she asked, moving aside and gesturing for him to come inside, even though every instinct screamed at her to keep him out in the corridor.
He hesitated, then walked through the doorway, the doors whooshing shut behind him, and her quarters felt even smaller than usual.
“Maggie. I am sorry to bother you on your day off. I should have just used my communicator to speak with you, but… things can be monitored and I–”
“It’s all right. Would you like to sit down?”
He nodded and she led him back to the window seat, moving her book to the low table in front of the seat so he could sit beside her. He waited until she was seated, then sat down, looking around.
She followed his gaze. She’d made this place her own over her years on Asterion Station. She had a weakness for auction portals where she could get antique and vintage things from Earth, along with interesting items from other planets. Her quarters had the same bright white walls as most of the rest of the station, but she’d laid soft, cozy rugs on the floor, and in addition to the window seat there was a cozy upholstered chair with a stained glass standing lamp beside it. Her reading nook, she liked to call it. Her bed, which was opposite the sitting area, was heaped with cozy blankets and a few soft pillows. She’d arranged art in wood frames on some of the display ledges built into the walls, and her ever-growing collection of books filled the built-in shelving nooks near the window seat.
“This place feels like you,” he said after a moment.
“And what does that feel like?” she asked curiously.
She got one of those tiny, almost-smiles as he continued to look around.
