Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster

would have disappeared down inside some dark spy dungeon, never to be seen again. And no one would have missed her. No one knew what she was working on. Even Jessica, sweet as her friend was, wouldn’t stand a chance of ever finding Isabella if that happened.
“No. We will not be returning to the base.”
“What do you mean, no?” Pulling into an alley, she turned the car’s lights off again but left the engine running, the parking brake locked so they wouldn’t go anywhere until she was good and ready. The sword, Storm Caller, had stopped glowing, although the semiliquid state seemed to be a permanent condition. She had no idea why she could still see it, but she itched to touch the alien weapon. See if it was warm or cold.
The spiral marking near Falden’s temple looked like he really liked diamonds and had decided to embed a few of them in his skin. Normal, right? Totally normal. At least it had stopped glowing. She sighed.
Too bad. He’d looked super sexy with the glowing tattoo. Like, lick-him-up-and-down hot. Or maybe that was the adrenaline talking. Her hands shook from it; her heart raced. She’d been shot at twice, and then she’d outrun a gunman in a car chase on a major freeway with an alien and a glowing sword next to her.
Not exactly a normal Friday night, even for her.
“You have been seen with me. They know where the base is located. Everyone knows. It will not be safe to return there tonight.”
Well, hell. He sounded adamant. And she couldn’t lose him now. “Well, I guess you can sleep on my sofa.”
“No. You will not return to your residence. They will have identified you by now.”
“No, they won’t. Trust me.” She’d been too careful. Fake name. Fake identity. Fake hair. Glasses with plain glass lenses. She’d even made a point of doing her makeup in a way that changed the shape of her face. God bless contour pallets and YouTube videos. Even she didn’t recognize herself when she looked in the mirror.
He turned to face her, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking back. When he lifted one hand to remove the glasses from her face, she let him do it. Why? No idea. It was like staring into his icy blue eyes paralyzed her or wiped her mind of all good sense.
Gently he folded the frames and placed them in the cupholder before returning his attention to her face. “Isabella Serrano, if you think a wig and a pair of black glasses are going to hide your true beauty from the world, you are not as intelligent as I had hoped.”
He’d just called her beautiful. And stupid. And her hands were still shaking.
And he knew who she was. He knew her real name. He’d called her Isabella when he’d told the others to watch over Jessica, and when he’d told her to start the car. He had known her name before he met with her.
“Where did you hear that name?” She leaned closer, the challenge he presented too tempting to ignore. Maybe he only thought he knew who she was. Maybe it was just a suspicion. She wasn’t going to confirm it for him.
He leaned in so close the heat of his lips brushed hers, his whispered words doing nothing to cool her flushed skin. “You, Isabella Serrano, are an investigator and a journalist. You have tried to sneak onto the Caldorian base no less than three times. Your work is respected, and you have sold your writings to dozens of publications all over the world. And for some unknown reason, you have become deeply involved with some very unsavory people.”
Oh shit. He did know. And his lips were closer than ever, so close hers would nearly brush against him if she answered. Which, of course, she did. “I am not a criminal. I am looking for answers.”
“Tell me your questions. Perhaps I can help.”
Well, no lie, she was tempted. That face. That body. Those eyes, eyes that looked at her like she was the only important thing on the entire planet. No man had ever looked at her with such focused intensity. Would that look, that focus, carry over into bed?
Sheesh. She was losing it. “Get a grip, Serrano.”
“Talking to yourself? Talk to me. I am right here.”
“No offence, John”—she made sure to emphasize his fake name— “but I don’t know you. I don't trust you. And your people are keeping secrets, not telling the truth.”
“And you?” Ignoring the spreading pain in his back from where he’d been shot, he reached for her hair, touched the false red strands. “You tell me what you were doing in that place. Tell me who you were planning to meet and why. Tell me why you have been so desperate to contact Commander Sevron, why you tried to sneak onto the Caldorian base.”
“No.”
“No?”
She didn’t answer because that would require moving her lips, which would make her want more contact, and she was quite sure she would be kissing him and not able to stop. Why did this guy have to be so…so…
Silence was her response until he looked at her as if he were confused. At the base of his neck, his pulse raced. His gaze remained locked on hers in an unnatural and intimate way she could not escape. Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling on the edge of losing control. She should hate him. Should be afraid. Nothing about her reaction to him made sense. But she had a job to do, and he’d just wrecked her night and possibly cost her weeks of work setting up that meeting. Weeks. Of. Work. She’d have to start from scratch, blame the Caldorians’ interference tonight on her contact’s sloppy communications. Feign anger at her contact at the alien black market, find out how both Commander Falden and his men ended up at that bar, at that time, looking for her.
And where were the buyers she was actually supposed to