by Anna Zaires
Her heart jumping into her throat, Emily took a step back, staring at him. As illogical as it was, she felt branded by his touch, her skin tingling where he had touched her. He was looking at her too, his eyes gleaming with some strange emotion. For the first time, Emily noticed that his irises were not dark brown as she’d initially thought—they were black.
Feeling completely off-balance, Emily did what she had always done during difficult times in her life.
She put on her cheerful mask.
“Okay,” she said brightly. “Let’s eat and chat.”
* * *
Amused by the girl’s sudden enthusiasm for the meal, Zaron led her to the kitchen.
He was glad he’d had the opportunity to touch her in a casual, non-sexual manner. It was important to get her accustomed to his touch. In many ways, seducing Emily would be like domesticating a wild creature. He needed to approach her slowly and gain her trust. She needed to believe he wouldn’t hurt her; otherwise, she would panic at the first hint of sexual intent on his part.
The good thing was that she was aware of him. It was the primitive female awareness of a healthy, attractive male. She might’ve been startled by his touch, but she had also been subtly aroused. It had been there in the slight dilation of her pupils and the rapid increase of her heartbeat. Her feminine scent had strengthened, too. If Zaron had touched the delicate folds between her thighs, he would’ve undoubtedly found her warm and slick, her body instinctively preparing itself for the mating act.
His people had discovered their sexual compatibility with Homo sapiens a long time ago. Although their species’ DNA was different enough that no interbreeding was possible, the efforts of the Elders had ensured that humans would be quite similar to the Krinar in terms of their outward appearance and body structure. Nobody knew why the Elders had chosen to do it that way, but the end result was a species that many Krinar found quite desirable as bed partners—especially given the aphrodisiac qualities of human blood.
And this particular human was more desirable than most, Zaron thought, watching as Emily stared in wide-eyed shock at the table and chairs in the kitchen. Like the couch in the living room, they were held in place by a force field of sorts, giving the impression that they were hovering in the air. To a typical twenty-first-century human, such technology had to seem rather magical—although most humans were now enlightened enough not to attribute everything to the supernatural.
Zaron was still debating how much he should tell the girl. Over the past two days, while he’d been taking care of her, he had thought about the possibility of revealing nothing—of pretending to be human. He had even considered taking her back to the bridge and leaving her there before she regained consciousness. Let her attribute her survival to a miracle or her fall to a dream, whatever was easier for her mind to accept. He had hesitated, however, his growing lust for her battling with his desire to avoid a potentially tricky situation—and then she had woken up, a couple of hours earlier than he’d expected.
Now he had a wary, confused human on his hands—a human who was regarding him with a frustrated look in her clear aquamarine eyes.
“Let me guess,” she said, waving toward the table. “More force-field technology?”
Zaron’s amusement deepened at the thinly veiled sarcasm in the girl’s question. “Yes, exactly,” he said, walking over to sit down on one of the floating chairs. The intelligent material immediately adjusted itself to his body, assessing his posture in order to provide the most comfortable sitting experience possible.
“You want me to sit on that?” Her voice rose. “On a board that floats in thin air?”
“You won’t fall, I promise,” Zaron said, stifling his urge to smile as the girl approached the table with all the enthusiasm of someone about to be tried for murder. “It’s quite nice, in fact.”
“Uh-huh,” she muttered, cautiously lowering herself onto the seat. Then her eyes widened. She must’ve felt the chair moving as it adjusted to her. Within seconds, she was sitting with her back fully supported, looking quite shocked.
This time Zaron couldn’t suppress a chuckle. He hadn’t expected to be enjoying this part, but he was. Introducing this little human to his world might be pleasurable in more ways than one, he thought, watching as she twisted around trying to see the back of her chair. Of course, the intelligent chair twisted with her, the back disappearing just as Emily tried to study it.
When she turned back to face him, the look on her face was indescribable. “Seriously, what is this stuff?” she demanded, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Where am I?”
Zaron laughed softly. “You’re in my house, Emily,” he said, patiently repeating the information he’d already given her. “And this stuff is my furniture.”
“What kind of furniture does that? The thing moved. It disappeared on me.”
“Yes, it did,” Zaron agreed. “It’s designed to shape itself to your body in order to provide the most comfort. When you turned around, it was no longer comfortable for you, so it adjusted itself.”
“Right, of course.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her temples with a pained expression on her face.
Immediately concerned, Zaron reached across the table and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” Humans were unbelievably frail, their bodies weak and prone to all kinds of maladies that were utterly alien to his people. Headaches, for instance. Zaron had never suffered from one except for a few brief moments after a head injury, but he knew it was a common affliction among Emily’s species.
At his touch, she jerked back, her eyes flying open. “Of course,” she said with that same false brightness. “I’m just peachy.” When Zaron continued looking at her doubtfully, she added, “No, seriously, I’m fine. I’m pretty sure I fell a couple of hundred feet, but I’m totally fine.”
Zaron chose to ignore the last part of her statement. “All right,” he said, leaning back. “But if you do have a headache, let me know. I can fix it for you.”
She drew in a slow, deep breath, drawing his gaze to the soft swell of her breasts. “Fix it how?” she asked, and Zaron forced himself to refocus on her face.
Now wasn’t the time to give in to this attraction.
“Did you heal me before?” she persisted when Zaron didn’t respond right away. “How is it that I’m perfectly okay after falling that far?” Her eyes widened as though some thought had occurred to her. “Wait a minute, what day is it? Was I in a coma or something?”
“No, you weren’t in a coma,” Zaron said, understanding her concern. “Today is Thursday, June 6th.”
“So I was out for two days.”
Zaron nodded. “Yes, precisely.” He was getting hungry, and he was certain the girl had to be, too. Explanations could wait. Switching to Krinar, he swiftly ordered a salad for them.
Emily frowned at him. “What did you just say?”
“I requested some food for us,” Zaron explained. “I’m afraid my house is not programmed to respond to commands in English.”
“Uh-huh.” She was looking at him like he was insane. “But your house is programmed to respond to commands in whatever language that was?”
“The language in question is Krinar,” Zaron said, finally reaching a decision. He could continue keeping the girl in the dark, but that wasn’t really necessary. Given how much she had seen already, he wouldn’t be able to let her go anyway—and she would learn the truth soon enough.
“Krinar?” She looked confused as she repeated the word with a faint American accent. “What part of the world is that?”
“Krinar is the language spoken on Krina,” Zaron said softly, watching Emily’s face. “My home planet.”
Chapter Six
Emily stared at the gorgeous man in front of her, unable to believe her ears. “Wait… what? Did you just say your home planet?”
He nodded, his face calm. “Yes, Emily. I know it goes against what your society accepts as the truth right
now. If you choose not to believe me, that’s fine. You wanted to understand why you’re alive and why my house seems strange to you, and I’m providing you with an explanation. If it’s not one you want to hear, you’re more than welcome to believe something else.”
Emily swallowed, her heart starting to beat faster. He didn’t look like he was joking. He was watching her with those dark eyes, and there was no trace of laughter on his face.
He was either insane, or she had fallen down that rabbit hole after all.
“Are you seriously telling me you’re an alien?”
“From your perspective, I suppose I am,” he said thoughtfully. “I prefer the term Krinar, however.”
“An alien? As in, an extraterrestrial being?” Emily could not believe those words were coming out of her mouth. This had to be an unusually vivid dream. It simply had to be. That was the only reasonable explanation for this whole chain of events. She must have dreamed everything—including the fall off the bridge—and was currently lying asleep in her hotel room.
“Yes,” he answered patiently. “I’m from Krina, not Earth, so that makes me an extraterrestrial as far as you’re concerned.”
Okay, it was official. Emily was dreaming. How else could she be sitting on a floating chair across a floating table from a man who was too beautiful to be real?
Or too beautiful to be human, a small voice whispered at the back of her mind, sending a chill down her spine.
“Okay,” she said slowly, “let’s suppose for a second it’s true. If you’re from a different planet, then how did you get here and how can you possibly look human?” Let the dream man answer that, she thought. There had to be limits to her mind’s ability to make up rational-sounding explanations during sleep. At any moment, Emily would wake up and wonder how she could’ve possibly dreamed something so strange.
To her dismay, her question seemed to amuse the man. “As you can probably guess, I arrived on a ship,” he said, his sensuous lips curving in a slight smile. “A spaceship, if you will. As to how I look human, that’s the wrong question, Emily. I don’t look human.” He paused, watching her intently. “It’s you who resembles a Krinar.”
Emily opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that, but at that moment, the wall to her right opened, and a bowl filled with something colorful floated out. Reaching the table, it landed in front of Emily. A second bowl immediately followed, landing on the table in front of Zaron.
Emily stared at the table, fighting the urge to rub her eyes. A dream, she told herself. It’s just a dream.
The bowls were filled with what appeared to be a salad—an unusual mixture of fruits and vegetables covered with a light green dressing. In the middle of each bowl, there was a strange utensil that resembled miniature tongs.
Cautiously picking up the utensil, Emily poked a piece of tomato with it. “That doesn’t look very alien,” she said, giving Zaron a dubious look.
“It’s not. These are all Earth plants at this point—like this Citrus sinensis.” Lifting a piece of orange with his own utensil, he put the fruit into his mouth and began to eat with obvious enjoyment.
Emily stared at him. “Right, okay. So you can eat our food?”
He swallowed and nodded. “Sure. Some of it is quite good, actually,” he said, then resumed eating with gusto.
Still holding the utensil, Emily watched him for a few seconds. She felt like the rabbit hole was expanding all around her, sucking her in even deeper. Why wasn’t she waking up? In general, was it normal for someone in a dream to know that they were in a dream and yet be unable to wake up?
Not knowing what else to do, she began eating the salad. The crisp flavors exploded on her tongue, the combination of zesty vegetables and sweet fruits unusual but delicious. The dressing was both tangy and rich. Emily couldn’t remember ever eating anything quite like that before. She liked salads, and this was one of the best she’d ever had.
This dream was far, far too realistic.
Swallowing the bite she’d been chewing, Emily put down her utensil. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” she asked quietly, looking at Zaron.
“Did you think you were?” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that why you’ve been so calm? I was wondering about that. Everything I know about your kind suggests that your reaction should’ve been far more extreme.”
Emily felt like having that “far more extreme” reaction right now.
Slowly rising to her feet, she stepped away from the table, staring at Zaron. She could hear the rapid thudding of her own heartbeat, and her breathing was fast and shallow. It felt like there was not enough air in the room.
If this was truly happening—if her mind was not playing a cruel trick on her—there was no way to explain what she’d seen without venturing into the realm of the improbable.
“Can you prove it?” Her voice was low and shaky. “Can you prove to me that you’re from another planet?”
He leaned back in his chair, a half-smile playing on his lips. “How would you like me to prove it to you, Emily? Isn’t it enough that you’re alive and well when you should’ve died from your injuries? Do you know of any human medicine that can heal severe wounds like that?”
Emily moistened her lips. “How badly was I hurt?” The words came out in a barely audible whisper. She pictured the bridge and the big rocks below, and her stomach twisted. For the first time, the fact that she was alive truly dawned on her.
She was alive… when by all rights she should’ve been dead.
“You had multiple bone fractures, as well as severe damage to your internal organs,” Zaron said, pushing a thick lock of hair off his forehead. “Your spine was broken as well.”
Feeling like a steel band was squeezing her ribcage, Emily fought to draw in air. She remembered it now—that brief, awful moment when her body slammed into the rocks. She remembered wishing for instant death and experiencing agony instead.
Her eyes burning, she lifted her arms, studying them as if she’d never seen them before. Her skin was smooth and pale, completely unblemished. There was no trace of injury of any kind, not even a bruise or a scrape.
She was alive.
She. Was. Alive.
As that realization sank in, Emily began to shake. She could’ve died. She should’ve died. She had been certain that she would die.
And if it hadn’t been for the man sitting at the table, she would have.
Lifting her eyes, she saw him gazing at her with that same coolly amused expression. “You saved me…” Her voice was thin with shock. “You saved my life.”
He nodded, rising smoothly to his feet. “Yes,” he said, approaching her with predatory grace. “I did.” Stopping less than a foot away from her, he raised his hand and lightly brushed the back of his fingers against the side of her jaw.
Emily drew in a startled breath, stunned by the unexpectedly proprietary caress. His nearness was overwhelming, adding to her inner turmoil. Her skin tingled from his touch, and she felt hot chills going down her spine, her entire body trembling from shock.
The man who had just touched her—the man who had saved her life—was claiming to be from another planet.
Her heart pounding heavily, Emily took a step back. “Why did you save me?” she whispered, staring up at him. “What do you want from me?”
“You don’t have to be afraid, Emily.” His voice was gentle, soothing, but she again got that disquieting impression of a big cat toying with its prey. “I won’t harm you.”
She swallowed thickly, taking another step back. She wasn’t sure if she believed him—if she believed any of it. How could there be humanoid aliens? The idea was right up there with Bigfoot and mermaids. A secret government lab facility was a far more plausible scenario, except it couldn’t explain how Emily could’ve healed so quickly from her fall. That kind of medical technology would not have remained secret for long.
She had no choice but to allow for the possibility that he was telling the truth, and if that was the case, then
she was in the presence of an actual, real-life extraterrestrial.
An extraterrestrial who had saved her life.
A being from another planet who was watching her like a hungry lion watches a gazelle.
Chapter Seven
Zaron watched as Emily slowly backed away from him, her eyes huge in her pale face. He could see the fine trembling in her limbs, and the urge to pull her to him, to hold her, was so strong he could barely control it. The brief caress earlier had only whetted his appetite.
He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, to feel the satiny texture of her skin. He wanted to tear off her clothes and spread her thighs wide, holding her open as he thrust into her. He wanted to cradle her against him and fuck her like a savage… and then slice his teeth across the tender skin of her throat and taste the hot, coppery richness of her blood.
His mouth watered at the thought.
“Why did you say I look like a Krinar?” Her hesitant question interrupted his musings, penetrating the haze of lust that seemed to envelop his brain in her presence. She had stopped on the other side of the room and was watching him warily. She felt safer with some space between them, he realized; she didn’t know how easy it would be for him to clear that distance with a single leap. “As opposed to you looking human, I mean?” she clarified.
Taking a steadying breath, Zaron forced himself to remain still and give her the space she needed. It was natural for her to be frightened and overwhelmed; after all, humans didn’t know about the Krinar yet.
“Because we are the original intelligent species,” he said, answering her question. “Your kind was created in our image, not the other way around.”
The girl’s tongue flicked over her lips in a nervous gesture that sent a bolt of heat straight to Zaron’s groin. “In your image? What are you talking about?”
