Alien and the Wedding Planner - Page 12

“We’re in crisis. We can’t spare fuel to send you back home.”

If she were a cartoon character, steam would have been shooting from her ears by now. “You people are nuts!” She wheeled around and strode to the farthest corner of the room toward a window. It was actually a viewport. And that thing was blocked.

Alana rapped against the glass. “Open it.”

Hesitantly, Ice murmured something to Rain. The woman cast her a genuinely concerned look before pressing some buttons on the wall panel. A second later, the shade in the viewport slowly faded, revealing a scene she didn’t expect: a clear view of the blue Earth, floating in the sea of blackness.

Alana took a step backward as if the view offended her terribly. Her mind raced. Her heartbeat pounded against her

No, this can’t be true. This isn’t happening. Aliens aren’t real. This whole mess is nothing but a hallucination. No, no, no. Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, save me!

She staggered and had to lean on the wall to prevent her from crumpling to the floor.

“Alana,” Ice stepped toward her. “You’re upset.”

“Well, duh. How very observant of you, Sherlock.” Even a village idiot couldn’t miss her sarcasm this time. Her knees weakened as she was overwhelmed by the urge to curl up somewhere and forget this insane reality.

Ice took her hands and held her steadily.

“I want to go home,” she whispered.

He slowly nodded. “I know. And I’m sorry, but we’re not taking you back. Not yet, at least. So please, let me explain why. Why don’t we get something to drink and eat first? It’s way past your lunchtime. You must be famished.”

He sounded and looked so sincere, she felt like he really cared about her. Their gaze locked. She was momentarily mesmerized by his eyes. Up close and personal, they were more light grey than ice blue with flecks of silver on the irises. She was stunned by how gorgeous he looked. Soulful eyes. Perfect nose. High cheekbones. Dimple that flanked his almost-smiling lips.

There was one quick second where she was tempted to reach up and kiss him on the lips. Nuts, she tore her eyes off him, utterly bewildered. I’m supposed to be scared of him. This guy is a freaking alien! Alien! “Is that…” Alana swallowed hard. “Is this the way you really look? I thought aliens are little gray people with big eyes.”

He was somewhat puzzled for a moment. Then he chuckled. “I’ve learned that the humans have misconceptions about extra-terrestrial beings. This is our true form. And no—we are not reptilian creatures in disguise either.”

His words were so reassuring, she felt at ease. Alana lowered her guard, grinning along with him. “So, there’s no scales underneath your skin?”

“No. Touch it, if you don’t believe me.” Ice captured Alana’s fingers and placed her hands on his face.

Alana halted her breath. There was a spark the moment their skin touched. She felt his cheeks. The stubble on his jaw and his chin. His neck. He shaved just like any other man she knew. Only, no man she’d ever met was this gorgeous.

Suddenly, Alana was curious what he would look like underneath his uniform. She knew he had a nice figure from the suit he wore when she first met him in her shop. And the slim fit of his uniform didn’t hide the outline of his body, either. Still, her imagination ran wild. Would the flesh underneath that fabric feel as firm as it looked?

Unconsciously, she dragged her hand over his pectoral. She could feel his heartbeat there. Thumping. Just like a human. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ at her new discovery. He noticed it. He smiled and placed his large hand over hers, pressing it deeper into his chest as if he wanted her to know that he was no different than her. That he posed no danger.

“You feel so hot,” she remarked. “I mean, your skin.” Okay, you’re insanely hot too but there’s no way I’m going to tell you that.

“Our normal body temperature is approximately one hundred and six degrees Fahrenheit, borrowing your measurement system. Or forty-one point one one one degrees in Celsius. Or three hundred fourteen point two hundred sixty one degree in Kelvin.”

“Fahrenheit. In the US, we use Fahrenheit.”

His smile widened, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. Normal teeth. No fangs or anything. Jesus Christ, he could be a toothpaste model with that dazzling smile.

“See? I know you can enlighten us with the precious information we desperately seek. My instinct was right, and normally, I don’t act on instinct alone. I’m glad I did this time.”

“So, going home isn’t really a choice at this point, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Bummer. Just so you know, I’m not a fan of anal probes either. So, if you’re thinking of it, I swear I’m not going to talk. Ever. No matter how bad you torture me.”

She didn’t expect him to laugh, but he did.

“Another misconception,” he noted. “No. We won’t do that to you. I promise.”

Tags: Lizzie Lynn Lee Science Fiction
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