by Tana Stone
“My, my,” Reina said, as she bustled up and took Katie’s arm. “Looks like we don’t need to worry about you two getting along.”
Zayn watched as Reina and Serge led Katie away, wondering why she’d decided to kiss him. He didn’t understand human females any better than any other type of female. Maybe they changed their minds quickly, or maybe that was a common way to say goodbye.
He touched a finger to his lip. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Chapter Twelve
Katie walked between the two aliens as they chattered away, but her mind was back with Zayn and that kiss. She put a hand to her lips, thinking they must be bruised. She knew she had nothing to complain about. She was the one who’d kissed him, after all. He’d just responded, but what a response.
Her body tingled as she thought back to how he’d reacted, his mouth ravishing hers. She was grateful for Reina’s grip on her elbow, since her legs still felt wobbly. She licked her lips and smiled. How had he tasted like doughnuts?
She’d never intended for it to be such a passionate kiss. Her plan had been to put on a good show for the two aliens who were escorting her. She needed to convince them she was all in with the tribute bride thing, if she was going to get the information she needed and get off the station.
As Reina prattled on beside her, Katie realized it had worked. Neither one of them doubted that she was into Zayn. Hell, even she believed it.
Her stomach dropped as they descended in the inclinator, and she clutched Reina for balance as they came to a stop at the promenade level and the doors swished open. It was another perfect day on the idealized space station: water burbled in the fountain, a slight breeze rustled the fabric awnings over the shop entrances, and the scent of coffee hung in the air.
Katie breathed in. “Is there a Starbucks, or am I imagining the smell of Sumatra?” Knowing how many Starbucks there were in LA, she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d put a franchise on an alien space station behind Saturn.
“Starbucks?” Reina twisted her hands. “I’m afraid not, but we do have a lovely shop next to the bridal salon that offers liquid stimulants.”
Serge tugged her forward. “There’s no time for that. We’re going to be late.”
Katie stopped in her tracks and folded her arms across her chest, staring down the shorter man.
He threw his hands in the air. “Have it your way, but don’t look at me when Monti and Randi give you the stink eye for being late.”
She quirked her lips to the side. “Stink eye?”
“His hobby is learning colorful Earth phrases from his brides,” Reina said.
“Come on,” Serge hurried forward. “Don’t just stand there like two bumps on a log.”
“I take it some of his brides have been from the South,” Katie said, as they followed him toward the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
The glass-fronted shop they entered looked remarkably like a coffee shop on Earth, with rich wood furniture and a long, slate counter. It smelled like a coffee shop, too, the delicious aroma perking Katie up just from the smell. Chalkboard signs hung overhead with drinks listed. As she looked up, designs swirled around the white lettering as if an invisible hand was drawing flowers and leaves along the border.
“Cool, isn’t it?” A strikingly pretty African-American woman asked, also staring up at the sign.
“Hey, Katie,” Mandy said, leaning over the other woman and giving Katie a finger wave. “This is Bridget. Another tribute bride.” She giggled. “Obviously.”
“Do you mind?” Serge asked. “We’re in a terrible rush.”
Bridget held up her hands. “Don’t let us stop you.” She dropped her voice as Serge strode forward. “We know how crazy Serge can get when he’s in full wedding planning mode.”
Mandy reached over and squeezed her arm. “If you need a break, let us know.”
Katie smiled, but wasn’t sure she’d completely forgiven Mandy for being the reason she was in this mess. Of course, if she got her story, it would end up being the best thing that had ever happened to her. That is, if she could also prove to the world she wasn’t insane.
“One thing you should know about the coffee here,” Bridget said. “It smells right and tastes right, but it’s not actually coffee.”
Katie felt her shoulders deflate. “What do you mean? What is it?”
“The Drexians have their own version,” Mandy said. “It’s supposed to be healthy and have a bunch of protein, so don’t be surprised when you aren’t hungry after one cup.”
“Unfortunately, it has a lot more calories than our coffee, so go easy unless you want Monti and Randi letting out your dress the day of the wedding,” Bridget added.
Katie frowned. Of course, there was a catch. Healthy, protein-packed coffee couldn’t be diet food. Not that she believed in diets.
A blonde entered the shop behind them, and the bell over the door tinkled. She had shoulder-length hair and wore almost no makeup. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mandy put an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “We were about to order without you, Trista.”
The lights in the shop surged brighter for a moment, then returned to normal, and she saw the three tribute brides exchange a glance.
“More glitches on the station?” Katie asked. “Zayn told me about it.”
Mandy grinned and whispered to Bridget and Trista, “Zayn is her match.”
“Yeah. We figured,” Bridget said.
“The glitches are nothing.” Mandy gave Bridget a withering look. “Dorn says it’s normal, since they’re having to repair all the damage and upgrade the station’s defenses.”
Bridget glanced outside the shop. “It’s happening more than it did right after the attack.”
Reina shushed them. “Let’s not talk about that, ladies. It’s bad luck.”
“What’s bad luck?” Serge asked, as he returned, holding a paper cup and handing it to Katie.
“Nothing,” all five women said.
Serge narrowed his eyes at them. “Why do I feel like I’m on the wrong side of a conspiracy?”
Katie took a drink of her mocha, swirling the dregs around the bottom of the cup to get one more decent sip.
“Enough of that.” Serge snatched the paper cup from her hands and pushed her to the round platform.
Katie gathered the tulle skirt in her arms and stepped up, holding her arms out, as the platform lifted off the ground and began turning in mid-air.
“I think I’m going to cry,” Reina said, watching Katie twirl in front of the three mirrors. Instrumental theme songs from 80s romcoms played in the background, but not loud enough to mask the Vexling’s sniffling.
Serge handed the blue-haired woman a hot-pink handkerchief. “Is this the one?”
Katie ran her fingers down the ivory lace column and glanced at her own reflection. After an hour of trying on wedding gowns, she’d returned to the first dress she’d put on—a form-fitting lace gown with long sleeves, a deep V-neckline, and a swish of a train. “It is pretty.”
She glimpsed the pile of rejected dresses through the open door of the dressing room. Mostly frilly confections with skirts that swallowed her, and shiny fabrics that made her eyes hurt, she’d suspected the aliens had raided a David’s Bridal sample sale. In the 80s. Not that she didn’t appreciate good vintage, but most of the dresses weren’t old enough to be vintage, or current enough to be stylish. The simple dress she had on was the only one that hadn’t made her cringe.
“Wait.” One of the dress designers rushed up holding a net veil over his head. “You won’t know until you see the full effect.”
He winked at her in the mirror, the gold eyeliner that matched his gold hair flashing in the light from the crystal chandelier. “No woman looks like a bride until she has the veil.”
“You’re forgetting the tiara, Randi,” the other dress designer said, the sparkling crown of rhinestones nearly as flashy as his silver
hair and bedazzled eyelashes.
The space station’s resident dress designers, Monti and Randi—both with an ‘i’ they’d told her—wore matching black Nehru jackets that reached their thighs and hadn’t seemed the least bit deterred when she’d rejected dress after dress.
“At least she’s not throwing things at us,” Monti had muttered under his breath to Serge when she’d wrinkled her nose at a ball gown with hearts embroidered on the hem.
The pink bubbly Serge had thrust into her hand had helped, and after a few sips, the dresses hadn’t seemed so bad. The buzz had made it harder for her to remember all the details though. Katie had to remind herself why she was going along with the ridiculous scheme. She needed to gather as much information as she could about the space station for her exposé.
She eyed the two aliens fussing over her. They definitely weren’t human, although from what she could gather, they weren’t Drexian, either. The station was filled with aliens with skin tones ranging from blue to green to purple and with curious features like tails, horns, and even tusks. And in the case of Monti and Randi, metallic hair.
She’d been able to determine that Drexians were all big, muscular guys who looked like they had the world’s most perfect bronze tan. And they had bumps down their spine that got hard when, well, when they got hard. Her skin warmed as she thought about Zayn standing shirtless on the balcony, the moonlight silhouetting his wide back and the bulges of his arms as he braced himself on the railing. She wondered what his bumps would feel like, and imagined brushing her fingers down his back.
“You’re as red as your hair, sweetie,” Monti said, narrowing his eyes at her. “I know it’s not the tiara that’s getting you all hot and bothered.”
Katie gave a small shake of her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, as he swept her hair back and pinned it up under the crown. Standing back, he crossed his arms and looked her up and down before smiling.
Reina choked back a sob and blew her nose into Serge’s handkerchief. “It’s perfect.”
Katie eyed herself in the mirror. She wasn’t so sure. The woman looking back at her seemed like a stranger, with her hair pulled up high beneath the sparkly tiara, and a long cascade of tulle spilling around her shoulders and down her back. The lace hugged her curves, and dipped low to reveal the swell of her cleavage. It made her feel sexier than she ever had before, but she’d never thought of herself as sexy. She wondered what Zayn would think if he saw her in the dress, then she pushed that thought out of her mind. She was here for a story, not to get married. Not really. If all went according to plan, she’d be long gone before the day rolled around when she’d have to wear this.
“Well?” Serge asked, waving away Reina and making a face as she tried to return his handkerchief to him.
“Sure,” Katie said with a shrug. “Let’s go with the dress, but not the tiara.”
Monti’s shoulders sagged, and Randi sighed. Before either of them could complain, Serge waved a hand over his head. “We’re done here.”
Reina bustled her back into the dressing room and out of the dress. As they were leaving the salon, Katie tried to catalog the details in her mind. Unfortunately, it looked like a typical high-end bridal salon on Earth. Plush, cream carpeting, racks of silk and satin dresses, an arrangement of fragrant, white lilies by the glass doors. Aside from the two designers, who would have stood out even in LA, and the levitating platform, there was little about the place that would make you think you were on an alien space station.
Katie reminded herself that was the whole point. They’d gone to a lot of trouble to create a place where Earth women would feel at home. As she stepped outside the shop and onto the shimmering cobblestones of the promenade square, she couldn’t help feeling that they’d accomplished their goal. Unless she looked up to the domed ceiling of the towering atrium that looked out into space, she could convince herself she was walking around Beverly Hills.
But I’m not, she reminded herself. I’m on an alien space station that no one knows about. Not yet, at least.
Serge took her by the elbow as he glanced down at a portable device that flashed a few unfamiliar symbols. “I was able to get us in to see the music specialist.”
“You’re going to love him,” Reina said, putting a hand to her throat. “He’s from your home.”
“Los Angeles?” Katie asked.
Serge shook his head. “Earth. I think he lived in some place you call Ten Easy.”
Katie looked down at Serge, his spiky purple hair unmoving as they hurried down the sidewalk. “Do you mean Tennessee? Like the state?”
“That’s what I said.” Serge didn’t slow as they dodged a blonde walking with a Vexling who looked a lot like Reina.
“I thought you only brought women from Earth up here,” Katie said.
“There have been select occasions when well-known Earthlings have wanted to escape their celebrity,” Serge said. “We bring them up here, and they can live out their lives in peace.”
“Are you telling me you have a station full of missing celebrities?” Katie’s paparazzi antennae pricked.
“There aren’t that many,” Reina said. “Just the ones who don’t mind being a part of the tribute bride program in some way.”
“So this guy is a celebrity? Was he a famous singer or DJ?” Katie asked, taking one step for every two of Serge’s.
Serge sucked in his breath. “DJ? Whatever you do, don’t call him a DJ.” He paused in front of a brick storefront with a pair of white columns. “We’re very lucky to have him, and he doesn’t do just any wedding.” He dropped his voice as if someone was listening. “And he isn’t getting any younger.”
“Then what do I call him?” Katie asked.
“He’s much more humble than you’d expect for one of your kings,” Reina said, her gray cheeks filling with color. “He’s quite charming.”
“King?” Katie said, feeling her pulse begin the quicken. It couldn’t be.
Serge rolled his large eyes and pointed a finger at Reina. “No simpering. You would have thought you were one of his hysterical groupies, the way you acted last time.”
Reina’s cheeks went from pink to red, and she frowned at Serge. As she wrapped her fingers around the brass doorknob, an alarm began wailing and blue lights flashed overhead.
Chapter Thirteen
Zayn heard the alarm and bolted upright, his head aching. He’d only crawled into bed after Katie had left with Serge and Reina to go on wedding appointments. It took a moment for everything to come back to him, and for him to remember that he wasn’t in an alien prison.
His heart pounded while he got his bearings, and he nearly fell out of the bed as he kicked off the sheets. He quickly scanned the room. Nothing burning or visibly malfunctioning. That was good. The wailing seemed to be coming from the hall, so he opened the door and sniffed. Again, no smoke. He noticed people emerging from other suites, so he went back inside and dug through the dresser drawers until he found a shirt that wasn’t intended for a human female.
Pulling it on, he left the suite and jogged down to the inclinator. If there was no fire, the station must be under attack, he thought. He felt the floor tremble as the lights blinked off and on, and a sharp pain jabbed into his temple. He clutched the side of his head, but the pain went away as quickly as it had appeared. The doctors had warned him he might experience residual pain from his torture.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he told himself as he stepped into the sleek inclinator car, drumming his fingers against his leg. The usual piped-in music and lavender uplighting was gone, no doubt a result of the power fluctuations.
Zayn hoped Katie was safe, although he couldn’t remember where they said she’d be going. Memories of the kiss she’d given him before she left made his cock swell, and he readjusted himself. He’d been surprised she’d kissed him, but even more surprised by his body’s reaction. He couldn’t blame his overpowering desire on being asleep
this time. Even if his mind knew he didn’t deserve her, his body clearly had different ideas. He fisted his hands. He’d just have to be stronger. He’d survived being tortured by the Kronock, hadn’t he?
He barely refrained from laughing out loud. He’d almost rather be back in a Kronock cell, than have to resist his tribute bride. He thought of her wavy, red hair spilling across the pillow and felt his chest tighten. Her body had been so soft and warm beneath his. Even though he knew he didn’t deserve her, he couldn’t help thinking of her as his to protect. The idea of her being in danger made his stomach tighten into a hard ball.
Think, he told himself. Where would she be? Dress shopping, that was it. He brushed a finger across the directional panel to send him to the promenade level and felt the compartment drop. Even though he hadn’t done more than glance at the centerpiece of the station, he knew the shops were there. He also knew that with its open, soaring ceiling, it would be most vulnerable to attacks.
When he reached the promenade level, he scanned the area for a flash of her hair. The shops appeared to be empty, and no one strolled by the fountain, although water still splashed down into the round pool from the stone figure. From what he’d seen of Serge, he felt sure Katie had been taken to a safe location. The station went dark and silent, then jerked as the lights came back on.
Zayn spun on his heel and returned to the inclinator. He wanted to get to the top level before the station lost power again, and held his breathe as he surged upward. Reaching the top, he exited and strode to the bridge without slowing, his eyes searching for the captain.
The man spotted him and exchanged a look with the Drexian he was huddled in conversation with before walking over to him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Zayn saluted the captain and the Drexian warrior who’d walked over with him. “What’s going on? Are we under attack?”
The captain turned to the other man. “The warrior who recently escaped the Kronock.”
“I know of your escape.” The uniformed warrior gave him a brisk chest salute even though Zayn was not in uniform. “Commander Dorn.”
