Nate's Fated Mate: Aliens In Kilts, Abduction 2

by Donna McDonald

  “Angus and Erin are making trouble as usual. Bri and Sheena do seem to have a calming effect on them. I hope their ownership gets approved. The latest thing is that the matchmakers have applied to talk to the Guardians. I have my hands full here.”

  “Yes, John told me about Sheena’s ownership request just before it passed over my desk. I sent it on for Guardian approval.”

  “Thank you for that,” Nate said sincerely, watching his mother nod.

  “Nathaniel?”

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “Don’t turn into your father or me. I never wanted that for you. I still don’t. And I’m glad Sheena is staying. You two—well, you two have something special that most never find in their lives. None of our advancements on New Earth have helped us have stronger relationships. Do what you have to. Don’t lose her.”

  There had a been a time when such a statement would have meant the world to him, but he simply wasn’t that trusting anymore. Maybe his mother wasn’t lying, but how could he ever be sure?

  “Sheena is staying for the clones. I may just be someone to pass her time with while she’s here,” Nate said, smiling softly as he waited for her answer.

  His mother snorted. “Don’t turn into a stupid male about this. This is the time to be smart. If Dr. MacNamara’s request is granted, and I’m assuming it will be, Sheena will be able to take the new matchmakers with her if she ever leaves the airship. That is not an acceptable situation for the AAS program. She’s still in love with you. I’m fairly sure of it. Use that leverage to keep her there.”

  And that revelation of thought, Nate decided, was the real truth he’d been so unwilling to see before Sheena showed up. This wasn’t about him or Sheena being together and happy again. It was about the Provost maintaining control of all the changes that were happening.

  Nate could see going forward, he was going to be lying to his mother as much as she had ever lied to him. Maybe in a hundred years, they’d be even.

  “I hope you’re right, Mother. I hope Sheena does love me. She stayed away a century last time.”

  “Grovel a little, son. It won’t kill you. Women like to see a man on his knees.”

  He started to make a crude joke about men liking women that way as well just to see the look on his mother’s face, but Nate laughed instead. Angus was obviously having a negative effect on his sensibilities.

  “I love you, Mother. Are you going to be okay as a divorced woman?”

  “Of course, I am. I would never lie to you about something like that. Duty calls though. Let’s talk again soon. Keep me posted on your remarriage. I’d like to attend the ceremony. Being a MacNamara, I’m sure Sheena will want a big showy one.”

  Nate shook his head slowly in disbelief after the screen faded to black.

  A knock on his door drew his attention. “Enter,” he called, and saw Angus poke in his head.

  “If yer not busy Admiral, I have something for ya. But ya need to take a walk with me to see it.”

  Nate rose from his seat, shelving thoughts of his Mother’s vulnerability and Sheena’s success at convincing his father to do what she wanted. Both were equally alarming and messed with his peace of mind.

  Fortunately, the one thing Angus was always good for was in providing a distraction.

  “A perfect fit, sir, if I do say so,” Evan declared.

  Matthew draped the sash over the Admiral’s naked chest. “Who else could say so, Evan? No one else has your impeccable sense of style.”

  “I adore you, Matthew” Evan said.

  “And I you. Now he’s finished. What do you think?”

  Nate rolled his eyes as both master clothiers stepped back to admire how he looked.

  “I think manscaping is fine for special occasions, but I for one am very glad the Admiral is still au naturel from the waist down. The black combat boots really bring out the sheen of the dark hair on his legs.”

  “They do, Evan. They really do.”

  When Matthew turned him toward the mirror, Nate laughed at what he saw. He’d never looked more ridiculous in his life.

  Angus stepped up behind him and glared. “I put ya in my family’s plaid and ya laugh at it? Yer an unfeeling, heartless bastard of a man, Admiral Tiberius. I don’t know what my sweet Sheena sees in ya.”

  Nate’s gaze fell to the brightly colored fabric now wrapped around Angus’s girth. Angus even had a fuzzy white bag on chains hanging down the front. He had no idea what purpose it served except to make the man look more ridiculous.

  “I’m bare chested and wearing a skirt. Everything manly about me is swinging loose under it. Why do you get a fucking white shirt and I don’t, Angus? I’m all but naked.”

  “Because I’m doing ya a fecking favor—not that ya can appreciate it. And just so ya know, I’m having Evan and Matthew here make kilts for all the lads. There’s no use trying to stop me. I’ve made up my mind. Not even Erin can talk me out of it.”

  “All the lads? What lads?” Nate asked.

  “Why are ya being dense today? The aliens,” Angus said loudly, rolling his eyes. “We’re going to be holding the highland games of my fecking grandfather’s day and now we can be properly dressed for them. I’m going to have to thank John personally for sending the kilt makers. Maybe he can come to dinner at the castle sometime. There has to be some furniture there sized for normal people. I’ll put Carleton to work on it when they go home.”

  Nate’s chin dropped at all of Angus’s ramblings, but the one he’d heard loudest flabbergasted him. “You’re intending to dress the aliens in kilts? Angus, you’ve lost your fucking mind. The aliens are nearly all warriors on the planets they hail from. They’re not going to want to wear a man skirt.”

  Ignoring him, Angus looked at the kilt makers. “Pay no mind to the Admiral’s lack of vision and his poor understanding of what makes a real man. Fine work on the kilts, fellas. I’ll bring ya some ale before ya have to make Darcone’s. His growling won’t seem so bad after a couple drinks. But I advise ya to just take measurements while under the influence because yer fecking seams won’t be sewn straight until ya sober back up.”

  Watching the kilt makers’s heads bobbling on their necks, Nate wondered when he’d lost control of… well, everything.

  “Come on, eegit. Let’s go see the women. Yer the type who always has to be convinced the hard way. I’m tired of talking.”

  “You? Tired of talking? That would be a fucking first,” Nate said tersely. “And I could have you thrown into a holding cell for your disrespect to me.”

  “And I’d be out of it faster than ya could blink yer eyes. The lads know who has their best interests at heart.”

  Nate didn’t bother disagreeing. He wasn’t in the mood to lose this particular argument.

  Darcone stopped at the entrance to the women’s common area, a place he almost never entered. Nate knew it was because Darcone understood all too well that his appearance frightened them. He felt sorry for the alien, always had. Brianna MacNamara was the only female who didn’t seem intimidated. He’d sort of hoped… but no, he wouldn’t go there. That was crazy stuff and he liked to think reuniting with Sheena hadn’t robbed him of all his faculties.

  Angus walked into the area and all the women clapped and catcalled. Angus grinned and yelled something that had the women all giggling.

  “Admiral, get yer reluctant arse in here. I want to show ya off. Sheena’s been visiting with Erin this afternoon and is waiting to see ya.”

  Sighing with mortification, Nate jerked at the strange noise Darcone made. “Are you laughing at me?” he demanded.

  “Much to learn, you have. Chin up.”

  “You’ve barely spoken to me in a hundred years. Now you’re giving me advice? Why didn’t you just volunteer to be a matchmaker? Then I wouldn’t have to put up with Angus.”

  “Stupid, I am not,” Darcone said, holding open the door. “Go. Grab man stick. Easy to find now.”

  The alien pointed at the kilt and showed Nate
all his pointed teeth.

  “You and Angus both need to accept that I still run this fucking airship. I go when I want to go. And I don’t have to dress like an idiot for the general population’s fucking amusement. I look ridiculous in this fucking… kilt.”

  Their heads turned at the sound of a woman’s strong voice. It was impossible not to hear her or listen when she spoke.

  “I thought you said Nate was coming with you.”

  “He’s afraid to come in here, Sheena. I think he’s uncomfortable with his manliness on display. There’s no hiding it in a kilt,” Angus said from within.

  “Shut up, wind bag. I am not afraid. I’m embarrassed, you irritating bastard,” Nate said through gritted teeth.

  Sheena’s laughter told him she’d heard his snide comments. Angus making him feel foolish in front of the woman he loved was more than Nate could handle. He narrowed his eyes, lifted his chin, and walked inside. A female murmur of admiration echoed all around him. Women made comments and whispered that he was the Admiral.

  Angus bumped his arm as he passed by him. “Are ya getting it yet?”

  “Shut up, Angus,” Nate said, but without any venom this time. It took all his concentration to keep his face from flushing from all the very interested gazes turned his way. Why did that slang slinging bastard always have to be right?

  Sheena stared at him for what seemed like hours before turning her head to the smiling women. “Back off, ladies. The Admiral’s already taken.”

  “I am?” Nate said stupidly.

  “Aren’t you?” Sheena demanded.

  Erratic breathing over her claim swelled the sash against his recently resurrected pectoral muscles. He could suddenly hear his own unsteady breath because every female in the room was holding hers and waiting for the next words he spoke.

  He hadn’t felt this kind of pressure from any alien encounter. Hell, he hadn’t felt it dealing with either of his controlling parents. This woman indeed owned him. It was the one thing he was never going to be able to lie about, even if he got good at lying one day.

  “Yes, I’m yours, Sheena MacNamara, for better or worse or both. I’ve always been yours. I never want not to be yours again. Will you marry me and be my wife until we die?” Nate asked, walking close.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair of you to be asking me such a question in front of all these women who don’t have anyone of their own?”

  “I’m working on that… or rather Angus and Erin are,” Nate said in his defense.

  “Come on, Sheena. Ya can’t be blood of my blood and not fall for a man who looks that good in a fecking kilt, especially when ya know what’s under it is yers for the taking,” Erin teased, poking Sheena in the back. Her gaze went over her kin’s head. “Ya cut a fine figure in a kilt, Nate. There must be a majestic Celt somewhere in yer ancestry.”

  “Thank you, Erin. Tomorrow you’ll have to tell me what that means. I can’t think well enough at the moment to guess.”

  “Why? Has the blood left yer head and travelled south, Admiral? Ya might want to add a sporran to yer ensemble. It sort of holds ya down in moments like this. Or do ya also think it’s unmanly to wear a purse with yer skirt?”

  “One day I swear I’m going to kick your ass,” Nate promised to the sound of Angus’s laughter.

  “Well, ya know where to find me when ya feel ready. Until then, I’ll just be helping Erin match up all yer aliens with proper brides.”

  Until a man heard fifty women giggling over an old blow-hard making bad jokes at his expense, Nate didn’t think that man could sincerely understand what true humility was. He was getting a daily dose lately.

  “You do look good. Erin is right about that.” Sheena smiled, reached out, and ran her fingers under the edges of his sash. There was no one like him. No one. Looking for another hundred years wasn’t going to change that fact. “Marrying you again can only be asking for more trouble, but I guess a smart woman would focus on the benefits, like the one rising under that kilt you’re wearing.”

  “No need for jealousy today. It won’t be rising too far in this crowd, but you are a very smart woman—hopefully smart enough to know how deeply and sincerely I love you,” Nate said, cupping her cheek with a hand.

  “Yes, I am a smart woman… and I do know,” Sheena said clearly, lifting her gaze from Nate’s kilt to his eyes. “So yes, Nathaniel Tiberius, Admiral of the Alien Abduction Services airship. I bow to my fate today. I will marry you again. I will be your wife. ”

  The clapping and squealing in the room was deafening, but Nate barely heard it over his own laughter when Sheena stepped into his arms and hungrily put her lips on his.

  — The End —

  Coming Soon

  SHADES OF DARCONE

  Note From the Author

  Hi. I hope you enjoyed reading Nate’s Fated Mate.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them.

  You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!

  ~ Donna McDonald

  Follow this link to see more books in the Aliens In Kilts series.

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  Next Up In The Series

  More About The Aliens In Kilts Series

  As I’ve confessed before, Science Fiction Romance is my guilty author secret. I love reading it and I love writing it. There is nothing better for me than a hot romance happening in the middle of non-stop action and adventure somewhere in space or on a different planet. This is what happens to romance authors who grew up watching Star Trek and Lost in Space.

  In the past year or two, I’ve gotten a lot of requests to write “alien abduction” romances, and I know what readers wanted from me, but that’s just not what I ended up doing in these stories. My warped sense of humor won out.

  Aliens In Kilts is spoofy, and silly, and yes, I’m making fun of alien abductions, as well as every other SciFi trope out there. Sorry Whovians, Trekkies, those who have the Force strong within them. My Irish hero and heroine have no idea about any of that. They are ground up technophobes from the 1950s who are trying as hard as they can to catch up.

  I can’t really fully explain the humor in these books, but if like movies like Galaxy Quest, Spaceballs, or more recently Guardians of the Galaxy, then you’re probably going to like this series. I’m writing more of them so I hope someone out there has a sense of humor like mine. I would love for this series to live long and prosper.

  Excerpt: Peyton 313

  Cyborgs: Mankind Redefined, Book 1

  Chapter One

  “Dr. Winters, how can you refuse this kind of money? Chancellor Li and I approved Norton’s offer of twenty million solely because you are the last original cyborg creator. More is simply not a possibility. Now if it’s the lead scientist position you crave, perhaps that can be discussed as an additional incentive for your return.”

  Kyra tried her best not to react too negatively to the giants glaring at her through her monstrous living room com. Jackson had abandoned the seldom used device during their divorce many years ago. She was only using it for the conference call so the UCN chancellors would see her relaxing on her sofa instead of staring intensely at her lab console.

  She could handle the pressure they were exerting on her to return to Norton because she had no intention of going back. But it was not fun to face down several frowning impatient men whose every frustrated expression was being projected directly into her wide-eyed retinas. Luckily her far beyond Mensa level brain discarded her rising nervousness as it reminded her there was no reason to be intimidated by an optical illusion. She had met all the chancellors many times. Most of them were much shorter than her five foot ten inch height.

  “Gentlemen, I am deeply
honored you have taken the time to contact me this morning. But however inconceivable it might be for Norton or the UCN, my retirement has nothing to do with money. My plan is to find a more satisfying use of my skills. As you know my specialty has always been military cybernetics, but the final war has been over for almost a decade. There is no research being done at Norton right now that suits my desire to better the world we live in. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am morally opposed to installing the behavior modification system in children.”

  Kyra watched as Chancellor Owens fought not to roll his eyes at her adamant statement. He was a thoroughly detestable man, and she didn’t understand how someone like him had managed to become the UCN’s head chancellor.

  “Yes. We are all aware. Fortunately, there are other cyber scientists willing to lend their talents to that specific project. If Norton has nothing that interests you at the moment, perhaps a paid consultancy would suit you more than a permanent position. I’m sure the personal loss of not one, but two costly Cyber Husbands over the last seven years, has been traumatic for you. And we are all aware that Jackson left you no choice but to deal with his own death recently. What I’m trying to say is that we understand this may be a time in your life where it’s natural you would be doing a lot of... self-reflection.”

  Kyra watched Chancellor Owens shrug his shoulders after his speech and look away. She had no logical reason to dislike him other than he always gave her the creeps. And she doubted he ever reflected on anything outside of his bank account for long.

  “The consideration of the UCN council for my personal losses is greatly appreciated, but I assure you I am doing just fine. My relationship to Jackson was over long before his death occurred and brought me back into the picture temporarily. And as the submitted reports on my Cyber Husband’s unfortunate deaths indicated, both of them came to me with undiagnosed mental health problems. Their losses merely taught me to be a smarter consumer about spending my money.”