Chapter Seven
Belle thought if she really had regained her composure--and her marbles--she would have had enough sense not to go to a gathering.
She felt their gazes, though, almost the moment she went into the commissary tent and got in line.
The urge to retreat immediately hit her as soon as she noticed people staring at her and whispering to one another. She would have done so, too, except she was basically trapped by the crowd before she realized she was the main topic of conversation.
Which, she realized, she would’ve expected if she wasn’t an idiot or not so wrapped up in her experience and how she’d felt and what she’d noticed that she failed to consider the ‘human factor’.
In a small community like theirs, gossip was the primary form of entertainment.
After fucking.
Which she actually didn’t take part in but knew anyway because the next most favorite thing was rehashing-critiquing the sex with anyone that would listen.
It didn’t help her feelings when Connor joined her in the line--pushed his way in between her and the man behind her.
She didn’t actually look at him, but she knew it was him.
Uneasiness flickered through her when it dawned on her that she’d retreated before he could call her to account earlier and hidden in the hab.
“You need to steer clear of Marcy,” he said after they’d shuffled forward a few steps.
Belle whipped a shocked look up and behind her, meeting his gaze. Resentment wasn’t far behind that. Her lips tightened as she faced forward again. “What am I supposed to do? Run when I see her coming?” she asked tightly.
“Just … don’t go out of your way to talk to her,” he said tightly.
Belle’s anger rose another notch. “You’re as crazy as she is,” she growled, stepping out of line and turning to go. “There’s no escaping any damned body when I’m stuck in this … place. Stay away from me and maybe she’ll leave me the fuck alone.”
He caught her arm, dragging her to a halt and Belle sent him a look that was a mixture of fear and anger. Well, anger inspired by the accusation and the spurt of fear that followed voicing her unvarnished opinion.
“Stay and eat,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.
“Thanks. I’ve lost my appetite.” She pulled her arm free and began pushing her way toward the exit.
He followed her.
She couldn’t believe he followed her!
And she was trapped! She couldn’t run.
“Why didn’t you tell that freaky blue bastard to take a hike?” he asked tightly when he’d fallen into step beside her.
As if she’d invited him to take a walk with her!
She jolted to a halt and stared up at him, struggling with the question. “That’s why you summoned me to talk to him?” she asked finally. “You expected me to … be ugly to him? Right there in front of everybody? Embarrass him?”
His lips tightened. “He asked. I summoned you. I damned sure hadn’t expected what did happen or I wouldn’t have.”
Abruptly, Belle felt like crying.
She didn’t have a clue of why, just that she did.
“You don’t know me,” she responded finally, swallowing with an effort against the lump in her throat.
“And I don’t want to know you. Marcy isn’t the first psycho that targeted me because she thought I might be competition.
You attract crazy girlfriends in swarms and I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked for somebody I don’t even want! ”
That time when she tried to snatch her arm free of his grip, he tightened his hold and caught her other arm, snatching her up against his length. “That isn’t what you told me while ago,” he said coolly.
Belle gaped up at him blankly.
Because she’d totally forgotten what she said the minute the words left her mouth.
Contrary to what she’d expected, his touch was gentle, coaxing.
He dipped his head towards hers, captured her lips, and sucked lightly.
A heady, intoxicating heat flowed through her the very moment her body detected his scent and essence.
Her heart thundered in her ears while he nibbled at her lips, pierced the boundary of her lips and stroked his tongue along hers in a restless caress that touched off harder sparks of fire in her blood.
It took a supreme effort to gather her wits when he lifted his head at last and stared down at her, his expression harsh with need. “I want you. And I don’t believe you’re indifferent to me.”
It surely didn’t help her feelings that he seemed to have noticed the effect he had on her.
“Well,” she said when she managed to gather a little of her wits, “practice makes perfect, I’m sure.
I appreciate the offer of a sample, but I don’t actually need to get fucked … over. Or fucked up. Or just fucked.”
He released her abruptly, struggling with his temper.
That unnerved her.
“You’re right. You don’t know me.” He hesitated for a long moment. “But you will.”
Belle stared after him when he left, headed back toward the commissary, thoroughly rattled by the ‘promise/threat’ although she did her best to just dismiss it on the grounds that it was just that he was pissed off and didn’t mean a thing.
Her stomach growled.
She wasn’t even almost tempted to follow him and get food, though.
Instead, she turned and surveyed the campground and finally crossed it toward the far back corner … as far away from everyone as she could get and at least somewhat hidden/private.
Hopefully, the bitch, Marcy, was inside and not watching her or she’d get her ass kicked, probably, instead of the peace of solitude she was hoping for.
* * * *
Connor tried to tell himself that the sick feeling roiling in his belly was fury--because he knew, knew Belle was going to pick the fucking alien.
It didn’t help that he also knew, or at least suspected, that it was his own damned fault.
He had fucked up.
Because he’d kept his distance when he shouldn’t have--when it could have made a difference.
He thought he’d always meant to have her--certainly from the time she’d begun to bud into a mature adult.
The problem was that he’d been aware of her from birth.
Because he’d had no other close match--let alone perfect.
He’d entered the change, though, when she was still in diapers and he had zero interest in her or any future that might include her.
That changed, not surprisingly, when she began to look like a woman.
He was more interested in recreation, however, than anything that smacked of responsibility and beyond that, she was still a child and it made him uncomfortable even considering her as a woman.
The biggest mistake he’d made was in believing none of the other males would look at her as a woman either.
He’d been so preoccupied with his own concerns, mostly, as she’d pointed out, chasing pussy, that it was too late to prevent what happened to her before he discovered two of her ‘matches’ were stalking her and they weren’t inclined to wait or particularly care whether she was agreeable or not.
She’d tried to fight them off.
He wouldn’t have even known about it--because they covered it up--except that they weren’t certain she would survive and she was his primary. They were required to notify him.
That had been years ago and it still made him sick with helpless fury whenever he thought about it.
She’d been treated afterward. The AI had ‘patched’ her memories with something less traumatic.
Supposedly she didn’t actually remember the assault as it had happened, but she wasn’t the same regardless.
She looked at any male that even attempted to approach her as if he was a monster.
Including him.
Not the fucking weird motherfucker with blue skin, wings, and fucking horns!
He was still smarting over that indigestible fact and Belle’s reaction to his overtures when it suddenly hit him that she’d reared up on her hind legs and given him hell.
A faint smile curled his lips.
She wasn’t indifferent and she wasn’t afraid of him.
It wasn’t victory.
But it was a hell of a lot closer than he’d thought he was.
* * * *
Belle had scarcely settled in the spot she’d picked when she heard a noise she didn’t entirely identify and whipped a sharp look around.
She was just in time see Ryne haul himself up to the top of the wall and then over.
A second alien man followed him.
She was on her feet before they landed, looking wildly around to see if they’d been spotted by anybody and if they had colony security bearing down on them. “Oh my god!” she gasped. “I’m going to be in so much trouble!”
Several emotions flickered across Ryne’s features--both of their faces--and Belle wondered if they’d heard and understood what she’d said or if it was just a reaction to her alarmed behavior.
Both of them glanced around and then moved closer. “Hab hungry?” Ryne asked quietly, extending a blob of some sort of maybe bread-like something toward her. “You no eat wid oddurs.”
Belle hesitated, knowing she shouldn’t do anything at all to encourage them to linger. But she was hungry and it was an offering, and she didn’t want to insult him.
“Thanks,” she responded in a jittery voice. “I am hungry and I really appreciate you thinking about me, but you guys should go before there’s trouble …. Please?”
She was positive she saw a flicker of anger that time, but he merely jerked his head at his companion in a silent communication.
Nodding, the second man leapt straight up, caught the edge of the top of the wall and then pulled himself up without any sign of strain--except something like a zillion bulging-flexing muscles--and swung himself up and over the wall like a gymnast.
Ryne lightly brushed her cheek with one long finger, dragging her attention back to him. “Talk next time go out. Yes?”
Dismay flickered through Belle, but she smiled at him with an effort.
She thought for a moment that he meant to drag her up for a kiss.
She felt amazingly let down when he didn’t.
Instead, he turned as his companion had, leapt up to grasp the top of the wall and went over it with another show of stunning muscle strength that just did something deeply disturbing to her--made her feel more jittery even than his sudden appearance had.
It was purely beautiful to watch that display of strength, grace, and coordination.
And yet, she found it disconcerting to find herself drawn to him in any way.
Because, she realized, she was drawn to him and she couldn’t convince herself that it was purely scientific curiosity because he was an intelligent alien species.
That was just amazing.
Yet another unsettling experience in what was rapidly growing from a puddle into a lake.
* * * *
Belle jolted to a halt as she entered the commissary.
Connor was seated at a table eating and Marcy was seated directly across from him.
She yielded to the instant compulsion to retreat, finding herself outside again before her brain had even functioned at a conscious level.
When she’d gotten outside, though, and managed to fight down the panic attack threatening to take hold of her, anger rose to supplant it.
She was hungry, damn it!
She was going to starve to death trying to avoid …
people she didn’t want to see! She was going to have to think of another way to steer clear of potential unpleasantness, she decided.
Breathing slowly and deeply to calm herself, she’d just turned to head back in when Connor stepped out, glanced around, and headed directly toward her.
Doubt froze her to the spot.
Because she was convinced his appearance had nothing to do with her right up until he stopped in front of her and grasped her arm. Without a word, he turned and marched her back inside.
As if she meant to fight him about eating!
Then he walked her right up to the front of the line and stood watching until the server had made a plate for her. Taking it even as she reached for it, he walked her back to the table he’d been sitting at, planted the plate on the table and ‘helped’ her into a seat.
Lifting one arm to hide her face behind her hand--because every-fucking-body was glaring daggers at her because she’d broken in line--including the bitch across from her, Marcy--she took her fork and struggled to eat.
Every bite she took dropped into her stomach like she was swallowing rocks.
Maybe it was pure paranoia, but she felt like half the damned people in the place were talking about her.
Which really wasn’t that much of a stretch.
Connor had put a target on her back just by doing what he had and nobody was going to blame him for the fact that she got bumped to the head of the line.
That would be her … manipulating him into fucking over everybody else.
It really sucked to be in the middle of such a small community.
Of course, it was the only community she’d ever known, but everybody studied Earth history and she knew Earth had been overpopulated and there’d been mega-cities when they’d left.
There had been apartment complexes that had a larger population than the Artemis and they weren’t cooped up together their entire lives so that everybody knew everybody and pretty much their entire life history.
She wondered if it was like that for the natives.
She frowned at that thought, though, realizing there hadn’t been anything found but ancient ruins, or at least old, when the surveys were done.
That was why nobody had been expecting living, breathing primitives to show up.
Were they just … wanderers?