Sunlight

by Amanda Ashley

  “Lainey…” He drew her into his arms again, his face buried in her hair. “I know, cominza,” he murmured. “I know.”

  “If you know, then how can you even think of leaving?”

  “Because I love you. Those men who had me, they won’t stop looking. I wasn’t the first Xanthian they’d captured, Lainey. There was a Xanthian skeleton in their laboratory. They’re conducting the kind of experiments you once accused my people of doing.”

  And that was another reason he had to go back, he thought bleakly. He had to warn his people that the people of Earth knew of their existence.

  “Is there nothing I can say to make you stay?”

  “I must go.” He put his forefinger under her chin and tilted her head up. “But I’ll come back if I can, Lainey. I promise.”

  “Do you have to contact your people right away?”

  Micah shook his head. He had planned to stay another day or two. He knew now it would take at least that long just to say goodbye.

  Later that afternoon they went for a walk. Hand in hand, they climbed a narrow winding path that led through a forest of tall trees, their footsteps muffled by a thick bed of pine needles.

  It was beautiful, Micah thought. The sky was a clear, bright blue, so different from the sky at home. Colorful birds flitted from tree to tree, filling the air with their cheerful melodies. Lainey pointed out chipmunks and squirrels, told him the names of the different kinds of birds. They paused to watch a deer grazing on a patch of grass in a shady glen.

  They’d been walking about an hour when they came to a small mountain meadow fragrant with clover and wildflowers.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?” Lainey asked.

  “Yes. Almost as pretty as you.”

  “Oh, Micah…” Blinking back a tear, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. She’d known him such a short time and yet she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him.

  “Don’t think of it now,” he urged.

  With a nod, she sniffed back her tears. “There’s a small lake over there. Do you know how to swim?”

  “Like a fish.”

  The water was cold, but Lainey hardly noticed. Wrapped in Micah’s arms, feeling his wet skin against her own, she was conscious of nothing else. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, reveling in the latent power she felt there. He kissed her cheeks, her neck, the curve of her breast, and heat suffused her, making her forget the cold water, making her forget everything but Micah.

  She let her gaze move over his face, memorizing each feature, let her fingertips trail across his chest. She smiled as she felt the hard evidence of his desire press against her belly, and then his hands were doing their own exploring, filling her with a bittersweet pain.

  She had never made love in the water before. It was a unique experience, slick flesh sliding against slick flesh, their bodies buoyant in the water. It was primal, the ancient, eternal mating of male and female, life renewing itself. Almost, it was like being reborn.

  Spent, they stretched out on the grass, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and let the sun bake them dry.

  “The sunlight doesn’t seem to bother you anymore,” Lainey remarked.

  “I think I must be getting acclimated to Earth’s environment,” Micah replied.

  He lifted his arm and studied it a moment. The faint blue glow that had shadowed his skin had disappeared. Except for his ears, and the webbing on his hands, he looked much like any other human male.

  He picked up Lainey’s hand and pressed his own against it, palm to palm, noting how similar they were, and how different.

  Lainey folded her fingers over his. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” she whispered.

  She placed his hand on her belly and covered it with her own, wishing she could bear a child, wishing she could feel Micah’s seed growing within her womb.

  “I wish I could stay.” He kissed her gently. “I want to stay.”

  “I know.” She turned onto her side, her head propped on one hand while she traced figure eights on the broad expanse of his chest.

  His skin was firm beneath her fingertips, warm from the kiss of the sun. For a moment, she thought of destroying the transmitter, of smashing it into a million tiny pieces so he’d never be able to contact his people, never be able to leave her, but even as she thought of it, she knew she would never do such a thing.

  Couldn’t do it. He was an honorable man. And a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. She didn’t know where she’d heard that phrase but she suddenly realized it was true. And on the heels of that bit of wisdom came the memory of a line she’d heard in the movie, Parenthood. Women have choices, Steve Martin’s character had said to his wife, men have responsibilities.

  At the time, the seemingly male chauvinistic remark had made her want to throw up. Now she wanted to cry.

  Giving herself a mental shake, Lainey forced the thought that Micah was leaving out of her mind, determined to enjoy whatever time they had left.

  “You’re very handsome, you know,” she remarked, draping her arm across his waist. “Are all the men on Xanthia as good-looking as you are?”

  Micah shrugged, inwardly pleased that she found him attractive. “To quote one of your people, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Our people are no different than yours. Some are more appealing than others. Some are tall, some short, some are thin, some are not.”

  He lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “But none of us has hair so black as yours, or skin so fair.” His fingertip grazed her cheek. “No one has eyes so dark and lovely, or lips so soft.”

  His lips trailed featherlight kisses over her eyes and nose and mouth. “I will never forget you, Lainey St. John, nor will I ever join with another woman.”

  His words touched her heart and imprinted themselves on her soul.

  “No, Micah…” Lainey placed her hand over his mouth to stifle the protest she saw in his eyes. “I want you to join with Adana,” she said, and meant it, though it killed her to say the words. “I want you to be a father, to give Adana the child you can’t give me.”

  He took her hand from his mouth.“No!” He looked at her in horror. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “Because I can’t give you a child, and I don’t want you to miss out on the opportunity to be a father. You said you could see your child if you wanted to. Maybe you can change things where you come from, make your people realize what they’re missing by cutting themselves off from their children. And if not, you’ll still have a child, someone who’ll be a part of you.”

  “Lainey…” He turned on his side so they were face to face. Unable to find the words to express what he was feeling, he folded her into his arms and held her close, knowing he would never forget her, that he would never forget this day.

  It was near dusk when they made their way back to the cabin.

  Micah sat in the kitchen, watching while Lainey prepared dinner, and again found himself wondering how he could bring himself to leave her. It had been so easy to fall in love with her, so easy to adapt to her way of life. In spite of all the violence of her world, the pollution, the poverty, there was an excitement that was missing on Xanthia.

  He watched her peel a potato and realized he had never seen a woman prepare a meal until he came here. On Xanthia, he had always eaten in restaurants where the cooking and the serving was done by androids.

  Sitting there, watching Lainey cook for him, appealed to some deep, primal emotion he didn’t quite understand. She hummed softly as she stood at the stove and the sound of her voice wound around his heart, binding him to her in ways he didn’t fully comprehend.

  She smiled at him as she set the table, a bittersweet smile that made it difficult to swallow. He wished suddenly that the transmitter had been destroyed in the crash so that he would truly be stranded here, so that he’d have no choice but to stay, to spend his life here, with Lai
ney.

  Dinner was a quiet meal. Lainey ate automatically, hardly aware of what she was eating. Micah was leaving. That single thought overshadowed everything else.

  When they were finished, Micah helped her clear the table, then wiped the dishes while she washed.

  When the last pot had been scrubbed, she stood at the sink, watching the water go down the drain. She could hear Micah moving around behind her, the clink of silverware as he put it in the drawer. It was such an ordinary thing, doing the dishes together, something any married couple might do. Such an ordinary thing, it brought tears to her eyes.

  Micah stood behind her, noting the slump of her shoulders. Without conscious thought, he probed her mind. She was crying silent tears, her heart filled with sadness and despair.

  Whispering her name, he slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him. Holding her close, he bent his head and pressed his lips to her hair.

  “Don’t weep, Lainey,” he murmured. “Please don’t weep.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He took a deep breath. There was always a chance his people wouldn’t make any more journeys to Earth. Three of the last five spacecraft that had been sent here hadn’t returned. His ship would make four. Perhaps the rulers of Xanthia would realize it was no longer safe to venture into Earth’s atmosphere.

  He’d been here over two months now. Surely Pergith would have given up any hope of finding him alive and gone home…

  He was making excuses, grabbing at any plausible reason that would absolve him of guilt, that would make it all right for him to stay. He knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

  And he couldn’t leave her. Maybe she was right. Maybe no one would find them here.

  Micah let his breath out in a long sigh of defeat. Right or wrong, he couldn’t leave Lainey, not now. He would stay as long as it seemed safe, as long as his being there didn’t put her life in danger.

  “Lainey?”

  She sniffed. “What?”

  “If I stay, will you stop weeping?”

  “Stay?” She spun around in his arms, her luminous brown eyes searching his. “Do you mean it?”

  Micah nodded. “I’ll stay so long as it seems safe.”

  “Oh, Micah!” Standing on tiptoe, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him again.

  And at that moment, he knew he had made the right decision.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So,” Lainey said, “what do you want to do today?”

  Micah glanced up, his gaze meeting hers across the table. “Whatever you wish.”

  “We could pack a picnic lunch and go fishing at the lake. Have you ever been fishing?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’ll go. If you want to.”

  “Ah, Lainey, don’t you know I’d go anywhere with you?”

  “Oh, Micah.” He’d done it again, she thought, caught her completely off guard with a few simple words that went straight to her heart.

  She gazed into his eyes, those incredible silver-blue eyes, and knew there would never, ever be another man in her life. Even if Micah decided to go back home, she knew she would never love again, not like this.

  No words were needed between them. She rose to her feet at the same time he did, snuggled against him as he swung her up into his arms and carried her back to the bed they had vacated only a short time ago.

  He quickly peeled off her robe and nightgown, shucked his jeans, and then they were in each other’s arms, pledging their love, their fidelity, their devotion, with each shared kiss.

  * * * * *

  Lainey sat on the grassy bank beside Micah, wondering when she’d ever felt so happy, so content. It had taken only moments to show him how to bait a hook and cast his line into the water. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when he caught the first fish, a beautiful, fat rainbow trout.

  He had looked at the wriggling fish with interest, removed the hook from its mouth, and tossed it back into the lake.

  “Hey!” Lainey had exclaimed. “That was supposed to be dinner.”

  But Micah had only shrugged. “It was too pretty to eat,” he’d said by way of explanation.

  He had caught three fish since then, and had thrown every one back.

  And because it seemed like too nice a day to kill anything, even something as tasty as a trout, Lainey had tossed back the fish she caught, too.

  “I need to go to town and call my folks,” she remarked after a while. “They’ll be worried.”

  Micah nodded. It still amazed him, the closeness that Lainey shared with her parents. It was a kind of love he had never known, would never know. He wished fleetingly that Lainey could have a child, his child, so that he might experience being a father, but even as the thought crossed his mind, he wondered what kind of father he would make. One learned by observing others, and he had no point of reference for fatherhood.

  It was late afternoon when they returned to the cabin. Lainey stood in the kitchen, perusing the contents of the old refrigerator.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Micah, who was lounging in the doorway, one ankle crossed over the other, his arms folded over his chest.

  “Well,” she said, one hand resting on her hip, “since we don’t seem to have any fish for dinner, how would you feel about bacon and eggs?”

  “Anything you want to fix is fine with me, you know that.”

  “Micah, you’ve got to stop acting like you’re a guest in my house. If you’d rather have something else, say so.”

  “Lainey…”

  She gazed up at him, feeling angry and confused without knowing why. He was so tall, so devastatingly handsome, and yet that wasn’t what drew her to him. He was strong yet gentle, wise yet innocent. He’d come into her life and turned it upside down in the space of a few short weeks. How would she fill the empty spot in her heart when he was gone? And he would go, sooner or later, he would have to go back and she’d be left with nothing but memories and a broken heart.

  “Lainey, what’s wrong?”

  “I want you to be happy here,” she replied curtly. “I want you to feel like you belong. You don’t have to agree with everything I say, or do everything I want to do.”

  Micah stared at her, confused by her irrational behavior. “Lainey, you’re angry with me and I don’t understand why.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  He lifted one brow inquisitively.“Aren’t you?”

  “No.” She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m not angry, Micah. I’m just so afraid…” She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry, not to beg. “I’m just so afraid of losing you.”

  Not knowing what to say, Micah crossed the floor and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t promise her forever, not when there was a chance that Red Hair might find him, not when Pergith might still be out there searching for him. If Pergith found him, he’d have to go back.

  Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He couldn’t promise her forever, he could only offer her one day at a time, and hope that it was enough.

  “I’m sorry,” Lainey said, her voice muffled against his chest. “I don’t know what got into me. Too much sun, maybe.”

  “Too much of me, maybe?”

  “No! I guess I’m just afraid that what we have won’t last.” Lainey placed her hand over his heart. “When I married Drew, I thought it would be forever, that we’d have children and live happily ever after…” She shrugged. “But it didn’t last. He wanted a son and when I couldn’t give him one, he found someone who could.”

  The tears were coming faster now and she couldn’t stop them. She’d thought she’d gotten over the hurt long ago, but now it spilled out in a torrent and she found herself saying things she hadn’t even realized she’d been keeping bottled up until now.

  “He said I was only half a woman, that I was just a pretty package that was empty inside. And he was right! Oh, why don’t you just leave me alone?”

 
She twisted out of his arms and gazed up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Why don’t you just go home and join with Adana! She’ll probably give you a hundred sons!”

  “Lainey, stop it! I love you. Just you. I don’t need a son, don’t you understand that? It’s you I want. You I need. Just you.” Gently, he drew her back into his embrace. “Only you.” He kissed her cheek. “Always and forever, only you.”

  She shook her head, afraid to believe.

  “Lainey, please believe me. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else, and I never will.”

  She looked up at him, wanting to believe, needing desperately to believe, and yet so afraid.

  Micah gazed deep into her eyes, feeling her love, her fear of being hurt again, and prayed that she could get past her old hurts, her old fears, and accept the love in his heart.

  Tenderly, he cupped her tear-stained face in his palms, his thumbs wiping away the last drops of moisture.

  “If I tell you I don’t want eggs for dinner,” he said, very seriously, “will you believe I love you?”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Oh, Micah, can you forgive me for being such a fool?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you. I’ll always love you. Believe that if you believe nothing else.”

  “Oh, Micah.” She stared up at him, basking in the warmth of his gaze. He was nothing like Drew. Drew had been shallow, selfish, arrogant, everything Micah was not.

  Micah took her hands in his, uncertain how to say what he wanted to say.

  “Lainey, I…would you…could I be your husband?”

  “Husband? You mean get married? You want to marry me?”

  “Yes. I want to belong to you. I want you to belong to me.”

  He’d done it again, she thought, completely floored her. What could she say but yes?

  “When?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” Lainey chewed on the inside of her lower lip. They’d have to go someplace that didn’t require blood tests, she thought. Las Vegas, maybe, or Tijuana.

  They discussed it over dinner, deciding they would go to Vegas when it seemed safe.