Caid: Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides #3 (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Cara Bristol

  The spiky-haired, tattooed, and pierced bartender sighed. “Are there any more like him?”

  Fortunately for the world and womankind, there was only the one. I pushed my glass toward her. “Fill ’er up.”

  “I thought you set a two-drink maximum.”

  Who was she—my mother? “For them. Not me.” I’d exceeded the limit a couple of drinks ago. I jerked my head at the glass, and the room dipped a little. Maybe I did need to slow down. This would be last one.

  The bartender poured me more champagne, and I drank and watched Caid charm the panties off his dates.

  Chapter Four

  Caid

  Ding! Ding! Ding!

  Oh, thank the Fates!

  The timer went off, and, relieved my ordeal had ended, I gave my first genuine smile of the evening.

  “Okay, l-ladies!” Jessie waved from the bar. “That’s it for…tonight. I want to thank you soooo much for coming. The woman Caid chooses as his date s-s-selection will be notified.” Her voice wobbled oddly, and her words seemed slurred. “For the rest of you, the Intergalactic Dating Agency will find you a match, so don’t worry. Your Mr. Right is out there! I hope you all had a fun evening. Don’t forget to get your parking validated!”

  She wound up her arm and then pointed at me. “Caid, you s-s-stick around. I need to talk to you.”

  Relief evaporated. Jessie would demand my choice. What was I going to do? I didn’t desire any of these females. I was mired in a dilemma: if I didn’t pick one, Jessie would lose her job, and I’d never see her again. If I picked a female, not only would I be stuck with someone I didn’t like, my contact with Jessie would end anyway. I faced a no-win situation unless I could get Jessie to realize we were meant to be together.

  A server moved among the tables, collecting used glasses while giving me sidelong glances. My former dates swarmed around me.

  “It was so nice seeing you again, Caid.”

  “I had a great time chatting.”

  “I enjoyed our conversation.”

  “Call me…” Kylie? Kyla—I glanced at her name tag—Kaylie, handed me a cocktail napkin with a number printed on it. My pockets were stuffed with napkins.

  I smiled and tried to be polite, but I hoped I never had to see any of them again. There was nothing wrong with them; all would make suitable mates. Any man on Dakon would give his left horn for any of them. Except me. I set my sights on the beautiful blue-eyed, orange-haired one who’d ignored me all evening. No one else would do.

  I’d faked an interest in these females to spur my female to call a halt to this mixer. I thought maybe if she believed I desired somebody else, she would realize she wanted me. It hadn’t worked; she still insisted I pick somebody.

  Jessie positioned herself by the exit. “Thank you for coming,” she told each female as she left.

  The drink maker who’d been leering at me wiped her bar, stowed her rag, and sauntered over. “I’m Evie,” she said. “If none of these women pan out for you, give me a call…” She tucked her cocktail napkin with a number written on it into the pocket of my tunic and dragged a fingertip across my chest. “See you, handsome.” She strolled away.

  I exhaled in relief. I felt like I’d been dodging hailstones. Having so many females focus on me when all I desired was the attention of a round, prickly, orange-haired beauty was discomfiting. Finally, the last female exited the room. I exhaled a sigh of relief, and then my horns began to throb as Jessie stumbled toward me.

  “So, who’s it going to be? Iliana? Kaylie? Celine? LaTisha? Which one did you like the most?”

  “Uh…um…” I’d known she’d expected me to pick tonight, but I thought I’d have a little time. I raked a hand through my hair. How would I get out of this? Why had the Fates placed me in this position? They’d clearly intended Jessie to be mine…yet had failed to soften her heart.

  She swayed on her feet and blinked as she struggled to focus. I suspected she was a little inebriated; she’d downed quite a few of those tall glasses of sparkling liquid. She hiccupped. “Well?” she demanded.

  “Uh…”

  She held up her hand. “No, wait—before you give me your answer, I want to know one…one thing.”

  “All right.” I would take any reprieve.

  She lowered her lashes, and with a toss of her head, smiled at me, sending a kick of heat straight to my loins. “If I said you had a beau-beautiful body, w-would you hold it against me?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  “You would?” Her smile broadened, so big and wide, it was like the sun beaming through the clouds after a storm. I thought my chest would explode. She’d never looked at me like that before. “That’s so s-s-sweet.” Just as quickly, the sun retreated, and her expression darkened. “But you don’t mean it—nobody does.”

  “I do.”

  She twisted around, scanned the vacant room. “Where’s the bartender? I think I need another glass of champagne.”

  “The drink maker left,” I said. A fortunate thing for her and for me, but for different reasons. Jessie didn’t need another alcoholic beverage, and the bartender’s intense stare caused me to fear she would pounce at any moment.

  Jessie pivoted, lost her balance, and stumbled. I caught her around the waist and pulled her close, breathing in a scent of flowers, a warm sweetness all her own, and a touch of alcohol.

  She peered up at me. “You have the brownest eyes. And the cutest horns. Make them twitch,” she ordered.

  I had no more control over my horns than I did my manhood, but both throbbed automatically at her nearness.

  She giggled. “Do it again.”

  My horns were hers to command. They pulsed again.

  She laughed and wiggled, bumping the study guide. “Is that a book in your pocket—or are you glad to see me?”

  My horns and my manhood reacted to the enticement in her gaze. “It is a book, but I am always glad to see you.”

  “A book? Really?” The cutest frown knit her brows. “Like, with pages?” She toyed with a fastening on my tunic.

  “Yes.” I hoped she wouldn’t ask me what kind; I would be embarrassed to admit I needed a study guide to woo her.

  “Nobody reads paper books anymore. They’re all electronic now. Where did you find that?”

  “At an antique store.” I’d happened upon the Terran store while exploring New Los Angeles one day and found a corner of the tiny hut stacked with books. On Dakon, we recorded our knowledge, history, and stories in large kel-hide-covered parchment tomes. The familiar smell of paper, leather, and dust made me feel at home, and I’d often gone to the antique store to browse when I felt homesick. Seeing the stacks and stacks of books had been my impetus to learn the written English language. And then, one day, I’d had the good fortune to stumble upon the study guide.

  The fastening popped free on my shirt. Jessie cocked her head. “Wait a minute…you can read?”

  “I’m learning.”

  She slipped her hand inside my tunic, and for the first time ever, she touched me, skin to skin. I caught my breath. Her gaze met mine. Her eyes, so startlingly blue, were also slightly bloodshot from the alcohol she’d imbibed. Still beautiful. Still striking. “You really are an attractive man. In the historical romances I read, they would call you a handsome devil or a rogue. You are, aren’t you?”

  “Handsome or a rogue?” I joked. On Dakon, I was average-looking. Nothing special in any regard. The attention from women on this planet had been unsettling, to say the least.

  “Both.” She smoothed her hand over my chest. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on your rockin’ bod for the longest time…”

  Her words and touch heated my blood, causing my horns and manhood to throb with desire, but did she mean what she was saying, or had alcohol loosened her tongue and inhibitions? I longed for her to touch me, to be close, but it had to be because she desired it, and not because of inebriation. I grabbed her wrist and held it still. My other hand rested on her waist.
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  Her expression clouded, and she sighed. “I need to get your answer about which woman you want.”

  Her sweet words, her teasing smile, her touch—her affection had been motivated by the fermented beverage she’d been drinking. Or perhaps she’d been cajoling me to give her the answer she sought. How much longer could I continue like this? What else could I do to convince her we were meant to be together? My heart yearned for her, and the Fates had matched us. Couldn’t she see that? Didn’t she like me at all? Well, all right. If I had to give her an answer, then an answer she’d get—

  “I choose—” None of them. I couldn’t bond with just any female. It had to be Jessie or no one. If I couldn’t have her, then I would spend my days alone. For as long as I remained unattached, a chance existed…

  She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Not tonight. Tell me tomorrow.”

  Then why did she ask? But I was happy to avoid her anger and delay, telling her I wasn’t going to let her match me with any female.

  * * * *

  “Whoopsie!” Jessie tumbled into the passenger seat of her vehicle. She hiccupped. “You can drive, can’t you? Because I can’t.” She pressed her thumb and index finger close together. “I’ve had the tiniest little bit too much to drink.”

  “A little bit, huh?”

  “Yeah, just a little bit.” She squinted. “What was it I asked you?”

  “If I could drive.” I buckled her in. So close, her champagne-scented breath caressed my face. If I turned my head, we could mesh mouths, but when we shared our first kiss, I needed the assurance she was aware of it, meant it, wanted it.

  “Oh—yeah. Can you?”

  “Yes.” Along with reading, I’d enrolled in driving lessons and had gotten my license a month ago.

  “Oh, good. ’Cause it would be a bummer if we crashed.”

  I followed the exit arrows; luckily, I could read because if not for the signs, we never would have made it out of the garage. There were a dozen twists and turns. I paid for the parking with my debit ID card and veered onto the almost-vacant street. In the two-plus hours the interminably slow mixer had taken, and the fast hour afterward that Jessie had giggled and cuddled up to me, traffic had cleared.

  I steered her car down the road, making all the lights, and then realized I didn’t know where she lived. “Where is your hut?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “Jessie?” I looked at her.

  She’d fallen asleep, her head against the window, her bosom rising and falling gently. Her pale skin glowed under the streetlights, dots sprinkling over her nose and cheeks like brown sugar. I wondered if they’d taste as sweet. I reached out and smoothed the hair away from her face. The curls mimicked her personality—fiery, tempestuous, yet seductive, playful, soft. She had a temper, but I’d also seen gentleness, vulnerability. I suspected she used anger to hide those other qualities. Was she warming toward me as her unexpected, provocative behavior suggested? Or had alcohol commanded her actions?

  The mixer had bestowed me with a few more hours of my mate’s company, and I wasn’t ready for the night to end yet. If I woke her and drove her to her hut, this might be the last time I saw her.

  I managed to time it so I got all green lights, and soon I arrived outside the gate where I lived. I punched my code into the kiosk, the scrolling metal fencing rolled back, and I drove into my camp, called ORANGEWOOD LUXURY TOWNHOMES, where the huts came attached in groups of four: two connected side by side with two more on top. A communal area provided tables, metal barbecues for outdoor cooking, and a large pool of water reserved for swimming only, not bathing, as I’d been informed by my condo association. A third and final notice had warned me I had to wear special clothing at all times when using the pool.

  My personal hut came with a designated parking space, which, until now, I hadn’t used because I didn’t own a vehicle. I pulled Jessie’s into it and shut off the engine.

  She was still fast asleep, appearing so comfortable and peaceful, I hated to disturb her. I exited and cracked the passenger door open, holding her up so she wouldn’t fall out. “Wake up, Jessie. We’re home.”

  She snorted, but she continued to sleep. I eased the door shut and sprinted up the stairs to my hut, unlocked it, switched on a few lights, and raced back to the vehicle.

  After hooking her bag over my shoulder, I undid her seat restraints and lifted her out of the car. She murmured but didn’t wake as I kicked the door shut and climbed the stairs to my hut. In my sleeping chamber, I placed Jessie on the bed; in its expanse, she looked tiny. She was tiny. The largest Terran bed they made still wasn’t long enough to prevent my feet from dangling over the end, but Jessie took up hardly any space at all.

  I slipped her spiked shoes off her feet. Indentations and blisters marred her skin where the straps had dug in and rubbed. I tossed her footwear aside; I had no idea why she would wear such unsuitable shoes. I considered trying to remove her clothing so she could rest better, but she was already asleep, and I feared jostling would wake her, so I left her clothing on and pulled the top covering over her. I stowed my study guide in the drawer—relieved she hadn’t asked any more questions about it—and extinguished the lights. After stripping off my clothing, I crawled into bed beside my mate.

  Tomorrow, Jessie would demand an answer. Tomorrow would bring temper and heartache. But, tonight belonged to me, a small consolation gift from the Fates. If I never got more than this one night, it would have to be enough.

  With her warmth and scent wafting around me, filling me with peace, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Jessie

  Something fuzzy had crawled into my mouth and died. My head pounded, my stomach churned, and a heavy weight pressed across my chest. Tree limb? Had there been an accident? Could we have crashed into a tree? I had a vague recollection of Caid promising he could drive.

  Caid?

  My eyes flew open to dusky morning light filtering through closed blinds over a window that had moved to a different wall of my bedroom. The door to the hall had been relocated, and the bed was positioned wrong, too.

  This wasn’t my apartment!

  The weight across my chest was a male forearm, the hand cupping my boob.

  Oh. My. God.

  Slowly, I turned my head on the pillow. Caid lay on his side, so close his breath puffed against my face. His devilish, dancing eyes were closed in slumber. Stubble darkened his jaw, giving him an even more rakish appearance. As I stared, his eyelids flickered, and his horns twitched. Was he dreaming how to further complicate my life?

  No, I’d accomplished that on my own.

  Memories tumbled forward…too much champagne…me giggling and flirting with Caid…and then, as if I’d torn a page from his book, I’d uttered the words…“If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” I stifled a groan of embarrassment. How could I have said that?

  I recalled his reply: “Absolutely.”

  And…here I was. Obviously, he’d taken my drunken blathering as a serious invitation.

  I kind of remembered staggering to my car and Caid buckling me into the passenger seat, and then…nothing. I had no recollection of how I’d gotten here or what had transpired after getting into the car.

  The sheet, twisted around his waist, revealed his bare torso, and I had a hunch the nakedness continued below the covers.

  Oh god. Was I nude, too? What the hell had I done? Had I slept with Caid? My body didn’t feel any different. If we’d had hot, wild monkey sex, wouldn’t I know it? Unless it was a quickie—or I’d passed out in the middle of it. Why couldn’t I remember?

  I couldn’t move my left arm because it was pinned between me and Caid, and his left still gripped my boob. With my free right hand, I eased back the covers and peeked underneath. My dress scrunched around my hips, but I was still wearing it. Underwear still intact.

  So. We hadn’t had sex.

  I should
feel relieved, not disappointed. Nothing irreversible had happened—not unless somebody from the agency found out we’d spent the night together. I didn’t need to check the Intergalactic Dating Agency Employee Manual to realize waking up in a client’s bed would count as fraternization and would result in my instant dismissal, regardless of whether anything had happened.

  I had to get out of here. Pronto.

  Caid’s eyelids had stopped moving, and his horns had stopped twitching. His chest rose and fell with easy breaths. My gaze locked on his full, velvety lips. How quickly he smiled, employed his supernova grin to coax and manipulate. He was a charmer, a flirt, a heartbreaker. Limited as my experience with men was, I liked to think I wasn’t so gullible to be taken in by a dimple or a cheesy pickup line. Last night had pretty much destroyed that illusion. A few drinks had dissolved my willpower and good sense, and I’d thrown myself at him like all the others.

  But he’d caught me.

  In sleep, his hand tightened around my breast and squeezed. My traitorous nipple hardened. The other one perked up as well. Gotta get out of here. Holding my breath, I lifted his wrist until I could wiggle out from under it and off the bed. Gently, I set his hand on the mattress and released a silent sigh of relief. I’d never played limbo with a guy’s arm before.

  Then again, I’d never awakened in a man’s bed without recollection of how I’d gotten there. A night of firsts. And lasts. I couldn’t permit anything like this to happen again. Caid was a client. Off-limits.

  I snagged my purse and car keys from the dresser, but my shoes had vanished. His clothing from the night before—a sports coat, white shirt, khakis, shoes covered the floor in a scattered array. Typical messy bachelor. But hot—not so typical. The crisp white shirt had set off his dark skin and ruggedly masculine alien features. The shirt wasn’t so crisp anymore. It lay in a rumpled heap. Peeking out from under a sleeve was the heel of a sling-back pump.