Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster

over it and rolled him, using every ounce of strength and putting both her back and her legs into it, until he flopped over onto his back. Seemed it didn’t matter where she rubbed the paste, it worked. His wound had been closing more with each application to his face and neck. She assumed the rest of his skin could absorb it as well.
What if he had internal injuries? What if digging around in his shoulder had made it worse? What if losing all that blood was going to cause him some kind of brain damage? Or damage to his organs? Oxygen deprivation was serious.
Did these aliens even breathe oxygen? Did it matter? He was still unconscious. If he were healed, wouldn’t he be awake? At least talking to her? Blinking? Something?
Instead his bare chest was laid out like a feast for her senses. His breathing was rapid. Shallow. As if he were still in pain. She lifted one arm. Dropped it to the bed. It fell like a lead weight.
“Why do you have to be so freaking hot?” He was an alien. He was keeping secrets. Lying to her, lying to the entire planet. And yet he was still unconscious. Despite all the maju paste and the water he’d drunk, he had not healed all the way. He wasn’t sleeping. At least not any kind of sleep she’d ever seen before. She recognized knocked out cold when she saw it.
What if he needed more help to heal? She couldn’t exactly pour the water down his throat, but she could rub more paste on his skin. It had to soak in, right?
“Right.” It was a flimsy excuse and she knew it, but she was also scared. Much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want him to die here, in her bed. She didn’t want him to die at all. And if he was healed, shouldn’t he have woken up by now? She’d been staring at him for a solid ten minutes by now. How long did this stuff take to work?
“More paste, Falden. And if you don’t wake up soon, I’m taking you to the hospital. I don’t care what you said.”
Decision made, she took her time, using a generous portion of the paste, spreading it all over his chest and abdomen. Feeling very dangerous, she even dipped her hands under the waist of his pants—not far, just far enough to get to some new skin without being naughty.
Of course, her mind was wandering down naughty lane and had set up camp as her hands traced every curve and hollow, every hot muscle on his body. As she rubbed this alien goo all over him and made him glow.
When there was no bare skin left to cover and he still had not regained consciousness, she took off his shoes and socks, undid his belt, and gently pulled his pants down his legs and off. Dropping them to the floor, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at the black silk boxers covering him.
“Relieved. Right?”
Keep telling yourself that, girlfriend.
“Oh, shut up.” Isabella was more than accustomed to arguing with herself, so she told the naughty side of herself to go away as she rubbed his legs and feet with the paste. She also told that same naughty woman to stop being so giddy over the discovery that this particular alien did, indeed, appear to have all the necessary parts. “Damn. You’re huge everywhere.”
And he slept.
“Well, that’s all you're going to get.” There was no way—no freaking way—she was taking off the rest of his clothes. Not happening.
Rubbing the excess into her aching shoulders, she walked to the shelf and put the empty jar of paste back on top, next to the maju water. Too bad I used what was left. That paste feels incredible. Like tiny kisses all over my shoulders. Delicious.
She was exhausted. More than exhausted. She was worried, tired, stressed and had a bona fide alien in her sanctuary. An alien who had been shot, was now glowing from head to toe and would not wake up.
“Shit.” She looked at the clock. It was well past midnight.
Should she try to wake him? Take him to the hospital? She honestly wasn’t sure what to do.
Buying some time, she took a few minutes in the restroom to remove her wig and makeup, brush her teeth and take care of necessities, then walked back out to check on him one more time before she allowed herself some much needed sleep. He was still out cold. He glowed. But his color was better. His breathing was steady, not shallow. He looked younger, less intense. Less like a warrior and more like someone she could laugh with. Someone who didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
She slipped out of the dress that now felt like a scratchy, demon-derived torture device, every ounce of lace making her skin itch. Putting on a pair of boy shorts and a T-shirt, she walked over to a drawer and opened it to pull out a very human pair of handcuffs. She wanted his body. She didn’t think he was a threat. But sleeping in here with an alien, no matter how hot, was not something she was prepared to do. There was dangerous, and then there was too dangerous.
Leaving Falden to wake while she slept like a log was not an option. And she didn’t want him waking up, taking her stuff and disappearing, either. If she lost him, and her contact didn’t believe her when she told him she didn’t know anything about the shoot-out that had happened tonight, she’d be right back to square one.
And with the information she had about the black market—and potentially, a lead on who had taken Torrin—she refused to bang her head bloody against the brick wall of Caldorian security when she had a commander at her mercy. Falden was going to take her onto that base. He was going to get her to