Chapter 7
ALETTA
Aletta rolled over in the huge bed, tugging the blankets around her. Sleep was elusive.
After Gark’s promise to help her find Dylan, she’d been ready to take on the universe. She thought they’d be pursuing Dylan’s abductors in a matter of hours.
In hindsight, that had been incredibly naive.
Space was huge. Fucking massive.
In the three days since she’d been on this ship, she’d learned exactly nothing about Dylan’s whereabouts.
Aletta pursed her lips as she drummed her fingers against the firm mattress. Today would be different. Today, she would find out something.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and dug her toes into the colorful, thick pile rug that had appeared beside the bed the second day she’d been on the ship.
It was so soft and far more luxurious than anything she’d ever owned.
Browns and pinks clashed with purples and greens, but it worked.
She tilted her head as she traced the intricate pattern with her eyes.
It was so beautiful she felt bad standing on it.
Only one person could have put it there.
She’d learned that space was cold. It took a lot of energy to keep the ship warm, so it made sense to keep it as cool as the occupants could tolerate. So she didn’t dawdle on her way to the bathroom, the floor chilly under her feet.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror, frowning at the dark circles under her blue eyes. At least the scrapes and bruises she’d accumulated in her flight from the Xakul—she’d learned that’s what the species called themselves—had mostly healed.
She tugged at her earlobe with one hand and pulled her hair out of the way with the other to check the incision where her translator had been inserted.
She ran a finger over the nearly invisible scar, in awe of how quickly the alien technology had healed her.
If they’d had technology like this on Earth, then maybe her dad would still be alive. Her mom, too.
But there was no point worrying about a past she couldn’t change.
Aletta dropped her hair back into place and stepped into the shower, turning on the water. There was only a set amount of water for showers, so she washed quickly, dried herself on one of the huge, fluffy towels that had been placed in a stack on the bed, and toweled off her hair.
She’d been wearing a pair of oversized track pants and a tee that had to be Gark’s, but yesterday he’d shown her how to use the on-board laundry, so today she had her own clothes to wear.
Aletta tugged on her underwear, jeans, shirt, and jacket, then pulled a comb through her hair, feeling a little more herself than she had since she’d arrived on The Lady.
She hurried out of the room, heading to the mess, finding it empty.
Aletta wasn’t sure if she was pleased or annoyed.
She huffed, placing a cup under the drinks dispenser and hitting the combination of buttons she’d memorized to make coffee.
As the machine hummed, she closed her eyes, leaning back against the counter and gripping the edge in her hands on either side of her hips.
She’d tried to ask Gark more questions, but he’d been avoiding her. When they were in the same space, he wrinkled his nose up like she stank, which she knew she didn’t, and then made an excuse to leave.
It was so frustrating. He’d promised to help find Dylan, but was blowing hot and cold. After spilling his guts about his family, and her doing the same, he had pulled back.
She’d had a moment where she thought he might be different and not like the guys back home. But he’d done exactly what they had; he’d pulled back as soon as he found out how important Dylan was to her.
If Aletta were honest, their relationship was less big-sister, little-sister and more mother-daughter. Not something most guys wanted to get saddled with.
She sighed. It wasn’t a surprise, not really. If nobody was going to help her, she’d just do it herself. That’s what her life had always been like, so why would it change now?
When the quiet chime of the door opening broke the silence, Aletta opened her eyes.
Gark stepped into the mess, a tablet in one hand, staring at it.
His brows were knitted in concentration.
There were dark shadows under his eyes, purple ones that gave him a gaunt look, if a guy as muscular as him could be called gaunt.
His hair was mussed, and his clothes rumpled as if he’d slept in them.
He looked up with a jerk before she’d had a chance to greet him. How had he known she was here? She hadn’t moved or made a sound since the door opened. It was uncanny.
Her eyes narrowed. “Good morning, Gark.” She smiled sweetly as he glanced over his shoulder as the door slid shut behind him.
Hah! He was stuck with her now. Either that or risk being extremely rude to his guest.
“Coffee?” She asked, holding out the cup she’d just made herself. She could always make another.
He frowned, clearly conflicted. He looked back at the door.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
His head snapped back to her, purple eyes widening at her statement. “It’s not that." He sighed. He walked across the room and took the cup from her hands with obvious reluctance. He looked into it and sniffed.
“It’s not poisoned,” Aletta scoffed, turning back to the machine to make her own cup.
Gark took his coffee and slid into a booth—the one she’d sat in the first day—and went back to his tablet, which gave Aletta unobstructed time to observe him while her own drink brewed.
Dark hair cropped short, long lashes hiding what she knew to be the most intensely purple eyes—not that she’d seen anyone with purple eyes before. And the spots.
Down one side of his face and neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt, were spots similar to a leopard she’d once seen in a zoo. The markings—because they weren’t a tattoo, that much she’d worked out—were slightly darker than his bronzed skin. Like a birthmark, but not?
It was annoying how attractive he was. If only he were a little less—
“Have you finished staring?”
She jerked, flushing as her eyes met his. “Uhh—“
Thankfully, the door to the mess opened with a chime, revealing Arik, the mechanic. He took one step into the room, saw Aletta, and with a wild look in his eyes—that couldn’t be terror? How could he be afraid of her?—turned on his heel and walked straight back out again.
Scratch Arik off the list for her to talk to today, then.
Aletta sighed, picking up her now full cup of coffee and sliding into the seat opposite Gark. Well, sliding wasn’t quite the right word. More like hoisted herself with a little hop onto the seat built for seven-foot-tall giants, not women who were five feet something.
He looked back down at his tablet, brows furrowed, and Aletta dismissed once more.
She took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes and enjoying the taste of the brown liquid.
No milk on this ship. When she’d asked for it, or something similar, she’d gotten confused looks.
Jarden had launched into a horrified rant about stealing the milk destined for the babies of another species.
She’d never thought about it like that before.
So black coffee, it was.
There was a lot she hadn’t thought about before.
Aliens, for one thing. If she’d ever thought about them, it was as little green men or conspiracy theorist rambles to be dismissed and ridiculed.
Not a hot, muscular, bronzed adonis with attractive scowls who could handle a woman like her as if she weighed nothing.
She watched Gark as she sipped her coffee.
“Apparently not,” Gark said as he looked up from his tablet.
“Not what?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You are still staring.”
She forced herself to keep meeting his eyes. “You said you’d help me find Dylan, but it’s been days, and you’re avoiding me. What’s going on?”
To her credit, she had tried to be patient; she really did. She’d sat on this ship for three days being nice and asking questions that nobody had answered. If you got more bees with honey than vinegar, she sure as shit had gotten nothing with honey.
“You think I’m avoiding you?” Gark placed the tablet down on the table with a click.
The intensity in his gaze was unnerving, and she looked away. “You screw up your face whenever you see me. You leave rooms as soon as you can, without being a complete asshole.”
He snorted, and she turned back to look at him. A lock of hair had flipped down over his forehead, and she longed to push it back. She pushed her mug to one side and clasped her hands together on top of the table.
“Gark, I’m grateful for your help—”
“Grateful. You’re grateful?” He scoffed. “That’s what you feel?”
It was so hard to know what was going on behind those purple eyes. From what he’d told her, he must have spent a long time hiding his Gnaggarian side and trying to be the stoic Taurean that he thought his grandfather would admire.
Aletta knew a thing or two about trying to fit in. And it never worked out the way you hoped.
“Yes, of course. I would be dead if it weren’t for you. Of course I’m thankful.”
Gark shook his head and pushed himself out of the booth, dumping the coffee into the recycler.
“The coffee wasn’t that bad.” Aletta tried to joke, but he just stood gripping the edges of the bench, head bowed between broad shoulders.
The fabric of his ship suit stretched over his back, came in at his trim waist, and did absolutely phenomenal things to his ass.
You’re not here to ogle the guy’s butt.
Aletta wriggled out of the booth with a grunt.
“The coffee was fine.” His voice sounded choked.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.” She walked slowly toward him.
Gark turned his head, lilac eyes flashing. “I’m a liar?” He practically growled the words, and Aletta’s lady parts lit up like fireworks.
“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’. She was playing with fire now, and she knew it. “You’re a liar.” She sipped her coffee like she didn’t have a care in the world, though her heart was pounding in her chest.
Gark smiled grimly. “I’d rather you think I’m a liar than put you in danger.”
In danger? Aletta snorted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a big girl, Gark. I can look after myself.”
She ignored the little voice that told her she was the one who was lying now. He’d rescued her from being eaten by giant bugs. Twice. He’d fed and clothed her and kept her safe.
“We’ll be docking at a space station tomorrow. I have a job to do there.”
A space station? Aletta’s mind whirled. Was he going to toss her off the ship? What if someone on the station had seen Dylan? What if Dylan was there?
She straightened and opened her mouth, but Gark held out a hand.
“Before you ask, no. Don’t leave the ship. It’s too dangerous.”
Aletta scowled. “I need to find Dylan. That’s all that matters to me.”
Gark closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between a huge thumb and forefinger. “Is it so hard to imagine I just want to keep you safe?”
She snorted. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his expression nonplussed.
She poked her tongue out at him, her frustration removing her ability to find the right words.
“What was that for?”
Aletta smirked, thinking quickly. “Oh, on Earth, it’s a way to say thank you.”
His lips twisted. “Really.”
“Oh, absolutely.” She would take her petty revenge any way she could. “It’s extremely respectful.”
“Somehow I doubt that very much.” A muscle near Gark’s eye twitched, and he screwed up his nose.
“That! That look! Do humans stink or something?”
She looked down at where his hand gripped the edge of the bench. How had they gotten so close? Her hand was resting next to his. So close that if she reached out with her little finger, they’d touch. If he spread his fingers wide, his hand was the size of a dinner plate. A big dinner plate.
What would it feel like to have those hands hold her? Not because she was in danger and he’d tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder—she knew what that felt like—but what would it feel like to have him touch her like she was something precious?
One of his fingers twitched, and she looked up, starting at how close their faces were.
“You don’t stink,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that had her nipples tightening into stiff peaks.
He bent down, his face close to her neck, and he took a deep breath.
Aletta froze, eyes wide. He was huge. Muscled, scarred, and a bit of a grump at times. And he was sniffing her like she was the most exquisite wine.
He groaned, and the sound shot to her core. She shifted on her feet.
What the hell was he doing to her?
“Aletta, you smell like everything that’s right in the universe. Like the first ray of sunshine after a month of rain. You smell like—” he cut himself off, pulling back slightly so they were staring into each other’s eyes.
“I smell like what?” She had to know. Nobody had ever said such beautiful things to her before.
“You smell like home.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
And then he lowered his face slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She stopped breathing, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers.
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath on her face, and tilted her head up slightly.
She waited.
One second. Two seconds. Nothing.
Aletta’s eyes snapped open, and she grabbed Gark by the back of the neck, tugging him down so their lips clashed together.
Gark’s restraint snapped, and he lifted her onto the counter, tugging her legs apart and stepping between them. His lips parted hers, their tongues tangling.
She was lost. The warmth of his body next to hers. The spicy scent of whatever he wore had him smelling like the most delicious thing she’d ever smelled.
Time had no meaning. She groaned, head falling backward as he trailed his lips down the length of her throat. Then he nipped at her neck, sending shivers over her skin.
“Oh!” She gasped, and he pulled back with a jerk.
He wiped a hand over his face, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Shouldn’t have what? I kissed you.” Aletta jumped down from the bench, landing with knees bent. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do this, Gark.”
He took a step back. “You don’t understand. I can’t… You don’t know… I have to go.”
And then he turned and left, leaving Aletta more confused than ever.