But if push came to shove, the Knights would obey Falden, not the Caldorian king.
Isabella gave him her most professional smile as she prompted, “And I promise I won’t take anything. Say it.”
“You have nothing I need, Isabella,” he hedged. Damn, the woman was stubborn.
Well, that stung, she thought, but he was also borderline delirious, his eyes glazed with pain. “Just promise me, Falden. Say it. I promise I won’t take anything.”
“I give you my oath of honor as a L…warrior that I won’t take anything that belongs to you without your permission. Nor will I turn you over to your human authorities.”
Falden kept his gaze steady as she inspected him for long seconds, judging him, weighing his sincerity or maybe the slipup he’d almost made. He’d nearly sworn an oath as a Lumerian Knight, his most sacred oath. An oath that would reveal to a stranger what he’d spent two thousand years hiding from everyone and everything in the known universe to protect his people. His vision had started going in and out. Perhaps that would account for his slip of the tongue.
Or perhaps it was vanilla and oranges and soft, tempting curves. His resolve certainly hadn’t lasted long against her. With her hot pussy clamping down on his fingers, her hands in his hair, her voice begging for more, he’d fallen into her trap like a young man barely in control of his cock, not an ancient warrior, a Lumerian Knight who’d fought and survived more wars than he could remember. What was wrong with him?
“Okay. This is probably a mistake, but okay.” She put her hands back on the steering wheel and ignored the fact that they were shaking. “Stay with me, Falden. Don’t faint.”
“Warriors do not faint,” he corrected her. Funny, he didn’t remember her being so bossy. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in his blood, his shirt and trousers soaked. “But perhaps you should drive at maximum speed.”
The car gunned forward, and Falden closed his eyes, uncaring where she took him. He trusted her not to take him to his enemies. She would not be on base, not be a threat to his Knights or the Caldorians he protected. For now, that was good enough. When she took a hard left turn, his side slammed into the door and he didn’t bother sitting back up. The effort required didn’t seem worth the fight.
“Falden?”
Her voice sounded oddly distant, as if through a heavy fog. He liked her voice. The sound of it. The way the feminine tones soothed him to his very soul. “My Bella,” he whispered as the lights faded and everything went black.
Isabella tapped Falden. “Hey, big guy. Open your eyes. We’re almost there and you’re too big for me to carry up the stairs.”
Reluctant to obey, he did only because of the worry in her voice. He sounded more strained than he intended. “All will be well. Do not fear for me. I am not so easily killed.”
“Easy for you to say. What do you weigh, anyway? Two-twenty?”
“I do not know this term. What is two-twenty?”
“Two hundred and twenty pounds?”
That made him chuckle in spite of his pain. “No.” Fully armored, he weighed nearly three hundred, but he didn’t tell her that. He could walk. Besides, he wasn’t wearing full armor. And he’d been shot on this backward little planet by a native human with an ancient weapon. Metal bullets. Pathetic. He would be the laughingstock of the Knights for this. Stupid mistake.
Like touching her. Foolish. Wanting a repeat? For that desire, insanity was a better word.
No. He wouldn’t think about her skin. Or her oranges-and-vanilla scent. Or the way her breath had tasted mingled with his, as if they were one being.
Isabella parked and ran around to the passenger side of the car to open his door. His skin looked pale, his gaze unfocused when he finally opened his eyes to look at her. “Come on, big guy. We have to get you inside.” She held out her arms and tried to lift him out of the car, or at least help. But he was heavy. Shit. Way too heavy. “I can’t lift you.”
“You are female,” he slurred, trying to explain through the fog in his brain that of course she couldn’t lift him. He was twice her size. For some reason the words just wouldn’t come out properly.
“Mmm hmm,” she agreed. “That’s right. I’m a female. Glad you noticed. Now help me out.”
“You are soft, not strong.”
Raising a brow, she tried to figure out if that was meant to be an insult or a compliment. “Come on, L warrior. Get up. Get. Up!” She shouted the last, and he swung his legs out the door and heaved himself up. She stared at the hand he’d had buried between her legs that now gripped the edge of the car’s roof in a white-knuckled hold. He was bleeding, probably dying, and here she was drooling over him like a lovestruck teenager. She snorted in self-disgust as she squeezed behind him to retrieve the coolest looking sword she’d ever seen from the floorboard of the car.
Falden looked around blearily. “You have my sword.”
“Yep. Got it right here.” No way she was leaving that piece of art in the car. She wanted to take a much, much closer look at that beauty. And she had a feeling she would have plenty of time to do just that while Falden slept and healed himself.
Stepping up under his shoulder, she helped guide him even though she couldn’t manage much of his weight. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to a hospital?”
“Yes. If I need assistance, I can contact my Kni—men at any time.”
“Nymen? That’s a new one. You mean the two hotties who took Jessica?”
“They run an average temperature, but yes.”
Seeing an opportunity to gain information, Isabella plowed ahead with questions as she helped him to the elevator. She’d parked his car inside the structure’s parking garage. Hopefully no one would come looking for it as she didn’t have a private garage. What she did have was a studio loft in a very notorious section of town, and a reputation for a fat wallet and a dislike for bullshit. From anyone. As a result, the people she wanted knew where to find her, and the rest of the criminal element in this section of town left her alone to conduct her business.
“How many nymen are there?” And what was that designation? An alien military thing? The Caldorians didn’t use that term, she was sure of it. At least not publicly.
Falden leaned down as the elevator took them to the top floor of the four-story building. “You are asking questions again.” His lips touched her ear, his hot breath reminding her all too much of the orgasms he’d just given her in the car. “I liked it better when you were moaning my name. Perhaps we should try that again instead.”
“Maybe you should just answer me.”
He scoffed. “Pleasuring you would be preferable.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. He slumped against the wall as she unlocked the heavy metal door to her loft with trembling fingers. Bringing anyone here was a huge risk. Bringing a Caldorian here was downright suicidal. The windows were barred, inside and out, with thick wrought-iron security grills. The metal door was several inches thick, as was the frame surrounding it. The investment in security was the only thing that allowed her to sleep at night.
Glancing up to check that the lens of the security camera still pointed where it should, she swung the door open and immediately placed her palm against the interior scanner to turn off the alarm.
Falden slipped in behind her, swaying on his feet. “This is not your home.”
“No. This is a safe house I own under a shell corporation. No one knows about it. We should be safe here.” She closed and locked the door behind him before reactivating her security system. The outside hallway appeared on a small screen near the door, and she glanced there, out of habit, to make sure no one had followed.
Out there, looking half-starved and cheerful as ever, the young man she’d taken under her wing a couple years ago gave her the all-clear signal and walked out of the camera’s line of sight. Matthew was about twelve. His dad was an alcoholic who never kept a job more than a couple months. His mom was in prison, and the money Isabella gave Matthew e
very week kept food in his belly without him needing to steal or sell drugs. She’d never allowed him inside her safe house, but he had her cell number and she answered when he called. She’d taken him out to eat, bought school supplies and clothes, spent time, tried to help him see the possibilities for a better future.
It appeared to be working. He’d brought her his last semester’s report card from school and beamed with pride because he’d passed every class.
She’d taken him out for ice cream, and he’d eaten himself sick while she laughed at him.
Baby steps. That’s how one started a new life. Baby steps.
Speaking of, Falden leaned against the wall, trying to clear his head and sound reasonably intelligent. He knew his words weren’t coming out as he intended, and he wanted to respond so that she would know he was a man who listened. Cared.
The room spun crazily as he watched her secure her domicile. “A shell corporation? You collect shells and sell them to others?” The odd, earthly sea creatures did create some very beautiful shell designs, but he’d never known of any human who created a company dedicated to them. But then, he didn’t interact with humans much, other than Sasha and now Juliette.
Isabella pursed her lips to hold back a grin at his lack of understanding. What did she expect? He was an alien. Dangerous. Hot. Sexy. But still an alien. She was not about to explain to him that a shell corporation was merely a term used for a company that hid the activities of another company, essentially providing a screen of anonymity. That would open up more questions from him that she couldn’t afford to answer. “Never mind. Now take off your shirt. I need to look at you. Stop the bleeding.”
“I need you to dig out the bullet. Can’t heal while it’s still in there.”
“Great.” Isabella squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, the thought of pulling a bullet out of his flesh slightly nauseating her.
He looked at Isabella with growing admiration. One word. That was her only response to his statement. She didn’t argue or try to talk him out of it. Nor did she deny that she could dig in his flesh to remove the foreign object. This female grew more fascinating by the moment.
“Stop staring at me and take off your shirt,” she ordered, determined not to stare, no matter how much she wanted to.
Falden pulled the human clothing off over his head, holding back a moan of pain as the blood-soaked fabric pulled at the damaged flesh of his back. Isabella walked away from him and flipped on a light. He sank down to sit on one of two small chairs at a table he assumed she used for meals. A small bed was shoved into the corner, the sheets mussed as if she’d rolled out of them and not bothered to straighten them behind her. He wondered if the sheets still held the lingering scent of vanilla and oranges.
The security camera screen remained empty of visitors, and he relaxed a bit more. She was obviously serious about security here, and he was willing to trust her. For now.
He turned to inspect the other half of the room and froze. Shelves were stacked, back to back, filling nearly half of the small space. And on those shelves? Caldorian goods. Medicine. Sexual devices. Gadgets and tools not yet made available to humanity. Technology only available on the black market.
Illegal for humans to own. But no weapons. Nothing deadly. Nothing that could kill. Had she been keeping Caldorian weapons, he would have had to break his oath to her and take them for her own safety. The Vilitos were not the only species willing to commit murder to acquire such weapons. He’d learned that humans could be every bit as evil and deadly.
“Where did you get these things? Possession of these items is against human laws.”
“Oh, trust me, I know. You remember your promise?” She was in the corner opposite him, lifting a bowl, towels and other items onto a strange metal tray.
“I gave my oath.” Rising to his feet, he moved forward to inspect her collection, mounting fear for her safety paramount in his mind. “Other humans would kill you for these things. This is dangerous.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, a determined glint in her eye. “They can try.”
Fuck. Quickly looking over shelves, he needed to make sure she only had Caldorian goods, not anything from his people. His inspection nearly complete, relief crept up on him until he saw two familiar jars on the top shelf. Maju paste and maju water.
Both full.
Fuck.
He lifted the maju water off the shelf, opened the jar and gulped greedily at the healing liquid.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
“This is maju water. It will help me heal.”
“Do you know how much that’s worth?” she hissed.
She was angry now, her gaze narrowed in a way that made him want to bend her over one of these shelves and fill her with his cock from behind, pump into her until she promised to stay away from all things Caldorian, Lumerian. Alien. All things but him. “I will replace it.”
She raised a brow but sighed in acceptance. “Fine.” She moved forward, took the half-empty bottle from his hand and put it back on the shelf. He looked up.
“I will need the paste as well. Rubbing the paste over the wound will assist the flesh in healing.”
“You going to replace that, too?”
“Yes. But I will apply the paste. You are human. You are not to touch it,” he commanded.
“All right. Fine.” She reached up and lifted the cylinder holding the maju paste from the shelf. “You still need the bullet out, right?”
“Yes. If it is not removed, my body will heal around the metal and I will require surgery later.”
She walked to the small bed and pointed. “Lie down then.”
Obediently he did as she requested, reaching for a pillow. It smelled of oranges and vanilla. Smelled of…her. Delicious.
She settled her medical items around him and tried not to stare. This was not the time to admire his body. This was serious. She had to be doctor-like. Impartial. Clinical. He wasn’t that sexy anyway.
Yeah, right.
“This is going to hurt.”
“Proceed. I will not cry out.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant, not at all. At the same time, she was a bit relieved. The last thing she needed was someone around here calling the police because she had a screaming man in her studio apartment in the middle of the night. Although, in this neighborhood, screams weren’t all that uncommon.
Isabella took a moment to think about what she was going to do. Perform surgery on an alien she’d brought to her super-secret safe house. Not even Jessica knew about this place, and yet Isabella had not hesitated in waltzing Falden right through the front door. What was she thinking? That kiss must have totally addled her brains. Definitely not how she’d envisioned the evening.
Tucking a towel under his side to catch the…liquids, she took a deep breath. “This is going to hurt.”
“I am ready, Isabella. You will not hurt me.”
“That’s what you think.” She took a few more deep, calming breaths, then poured a bit of hydrogen peroxide into the wound, expecting him to cry out. He did not move. Not an inch. Not a single twitch of muscle.
She dipped the end of her largest pair of tweezers in rubbing alcohol and covered her hands with the liquid as well. “Ready.”
“You smell good, Bella,” he murmured. “Everything in here smells like you. Vanilla. Oranges. Very exotic.”
Isabella snorted. Only he would think vanilla and oranges were exotic. Still, she was pleased that he liked the way she smelled. Her heart melted just a little. Maybe he wasn’t such an ass after all.
She watched him grin into her pillow like he was drunk. Maybe that maju water had gone straight to his head. Maybe it had a pain-killing effect. She didn’t know. All she knew was that small bottle had cost her a fortune and the man who’d sold it to her said it would heal literally anything short of the dead. Can’t bring anything back to life. That’s what he’d said, anyway. But she hadn’t really believed him about the miracle water’s healing properties.
Of course, she hadn’t tried any either.
“I’m going to dig for the bullet now.”
His response was noncommittal, barely a sound of acknowledgment. Shaking her head, she held the wound open with two fingers of her left hand and went digging with the oversize tweezers in her right.
He was unconscious when she finally got the bullet out of his back. Dead to the world, unaware of everything she was doing to him. Which meant he didn’t see her hands shaking or hear her sigh of relief or see the tears that sneaked down her cheeks when it was over. She hated blood. Like, puke-up-her-guts, gag-for-hours hated. But he’d needed her, and she’d held on, dug that bullet out of him so now he could heal.
She gathered her supplies, rubbed the blood from his skin with a wet cloth soaked in hydrogen peroxide and carried the small cookie tray she’d been using as a medical tray back to the tiny kitchen. She washed up quickly. When she turned around to look for bandages in the bathroom, she saw the jar of maju paste.
“Almost forgot.” He’d said the paste would help the injured flesh heal on the outside. And since he was asleep and the bullet was on his back, she was going to have to rub the paste into his skin for him.
He’d said not to touch it, but it wasn’t like he could do it. And that bullet hole looked nasty. She’d heard on the street that the paste healed all kinds of wounds, so it couldn’t be bad. Right? She had talked to several people, humans, who had used the paste themselves and raved about how amazing it was. So why hadn’t he wanted her to touch it? That seemed overly cautious. Paranoid.
“Whatever.” His wound was open, and it would get infected. She didn’t have stitches or staples or even butterfly bandages to try to close it. So the paste was really her only option.
Seeing him stretched out on her bed, the wound open but not bleeding, she could imagine what he might look like fully naked. Healthy. The lines of his muscles bulging as he held himself up over her, slowly sliding inside her wet core, covering her body with heat and man and hot, sweaty sex.
Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster (Lumerian Knights Book 3) Page 8
