Page 9 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

I ignored his hand and stared instead at Milo's ever-shrinking form, still draped over the hood.

Ben sighed, "Look, Milo will be able to take care of him—"

"He's unconscious," I pointed out between clenched teeth. "Don't you dare tell me can take care of himself."

"He was trained for this. He was always prepared to give his life for you, as are we."

I stared at him blankly. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Who were these guys? "Did my father hire you?"

"In a way," he said, waving his hands to show he was helpless in this matter. "Look, they will explain everything to you once we get you to Guatemala. In the meantime, let's just get along, okay?"

He grinned at me, stuck his hand out again. I took a long moment to make a point of staring from his face to his hand. He wasn't bad looking. His boyish charm and dimpled face could have been described as handsome even, and I would be lying had I said I wasn't a bit attracted to him, despite our situation. But the hormones I had discovered earlier were still running rampant through my body. Mixed with the heightened adrenaline, I felt as if I were sitting on a powder keg and didn't trust myself much.

With an exaggerated sigh, I finally took his hand and shook it. "For the record, I'm still mad at you though," I added for good measure.

"If it eases your mind, I promise I will send somebody to extract Milo."

"That would… ease my mind."

He pulled his lapel closer, grinned at me while flashing a set of bright white teeth, and spoke quietly into what I assumed to be a microphone.

"They will be on their way," he said when he was done rattling off a slew of numbers, which I assumed were Milo's coordinates.

I had no choice but to take his word for it. Besides, I had so many burning questions on my mind that poor Milo's fate took a back seat.

Ben had already made it clear he wouldn't be answering questions about Guatemala, so I decided to change track. "Will my parents be there? In Guatemala?"

"It will all be explained once we arrive." He avoided answering.

"What's with the gargoyles then? Are they aliens?" I tried again.

"It will all be explained once we arrive."

It was getting harder to hide my annoyance with him, but thankfully the helicopter banked, and I made out a small airport below. It was dipped in shadows from the humongous spaceship still hovering hundreds of feet up above New York's skyline, but it wasn't as dark here as it had been where Ben and his team had extracted me from earlier.

The tarmac looked busy, one of my father's sleek Gulfstreams already sat on a runway, while at least a good hundred people were being held back by armed men and women also clad in black. It didn't take a genius to figure out that those people were trying to get to their own jets, panicked and driven by the need to get out of New York. The question was: who were these people putting such effort into saving me? And why?

I mean, I knew my dad was rich, one of the richest men in the world, but so far, my parents hadn't shown much interest in me, besides throwing money at me. So why was there suddenly what seemed like an army ready to protect me?

I was willing to bet that some of those people down there were extremely wealthy as well, after all, Carlisle Airport had, after all, been built for the elite. The richest of the rich and occasional senators and governors. Come to think of it, the airport had been built by my father.

The chopper sat down close to the Gulfstream. "Come." Ben took my elbow, ushering me from my seat and nearly dragging me down the tarmac.

"I can walk, you know," I yelled, and because I had to yell so loudly, some of the snide tone in my voice got, unfortunately, lost.

He ignored me and dragged me all the way to the airstairs, where, the flight attendant, Iris, hovered at the top, wringing her hands.

"Up you go."

I glared at Ben, daring him to put his hands on my ass to shove me up the stairs.

"Welcome, Miss Vanderkamp," Iris greeted me, flustered, but pleasant as always.

Behind me, Ben's heavy steps shuddered the airstairs, followed by those of several men and women pointing ARs at the people still being held back.

"The pilot is ready, sir," Iris informed Ben.

"Good, let's get her buckled in and out of here."

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