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Her eyes drooped as she hung limp in the net. She was so tired. And hungry. The adrenaline she’d been running on since the crash had worn off, and her entire body felt bruised and broken.
Plus, she really had to pee. Still pinned against the ship’s hull, she had the choice to hold it despite the cramping protest of her bladder or pee in her suit. Sure, the suit was designed to be peed in when necessary, the urine then recycled through a purifier and turned into potable water. But since she wasn’t currently hooked into the ship’s recycler, that meant she’d be sloshing around in her suit until she could manually empty it.
The quiet sound of feet sliding over sand startled her out of her uncomfortable doze. Her eyes snapped open. Please don’t let it be one of those rock monsters, here to do horrible things to me, she thought.
“Who’s there?” she whispered into the dark, then berated herself. These aliens didn’t speak English. She’d risked attracting unwanted attention for nothing.
With a sizzle and the smell of burning plastic, the net loosened. Hell, yes. She shifted, intent on pushing the sticky material away so she could breathe properly again.
“Hold still. I’ll have you out of here in a moment,” a deep voice said, the sound stroking over her spine and making her fingertips tingle. Or maybe that was circulation returning to her extremities.
Wait. How did I understand what he said? Her brow wrinkled. A translator or some other alien technology?
The last pieces of netting fell away, freeing her from her sticky prison. She coughed, and they both froze. Another welled up, and she tried to swallow it down. Faster than she could blink, the alien pulled her back against a hard chest, his arm a solid band around her stomach, and covered her mouth with a large hand. Butterflies swooped in her belly.
His chest wasn’t the only hard thing pressed up against her. I guess I have my confirmation this alien is male, she thought, biting back a jittery snicker. I mean, I might be wrong, but this feels very familiar.
“Let’s move,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. He hefted her up as if she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes and hauled her away.
She didn’t start struggling until they were over the ridge, and he was still hauling ass, taking her god-only-knew where. She was not about to exchange one set of captors for another.
He grunted at the first kick to his shin, but didn’t slow until she bit his hand, flailing in his grip. “So this is the thanks I get for rescuing you from those damned trolls. I knew playing hero would come back to bite me. I just didn’t think it would be so fast or so literal,” he growled, releasing his hold on her.
She stumbled away on wobbly legs, catching her balance before face-planting into a spiny cactus. Trolls?
“You do realize those assholes were either going to sell you or throw you into their fighting pits, right?” her grumpy rescuer continued.
Her brows furrowed, she whirled on him, her fists clenched, ready to defend herself if necessary.
Then she got her first good look at him.
Oh, damn, she thought, those butterflies swooping faster. Even in the dim moonlight, she could tell he was smokin’ hot. She gulped, her snarky response drying up as heat pooled in her stomach. She must have looked like one of those old cartoons, her eyes popping out of her head as she took him in.
Much like the other aliens, he towered over her, seven feet of hard-packed muscle clothed in well-worn brown leather and danger. Dark scruff shadowed his square jaw, his hair cropped short, a row of dark green stones piercing pointed ears. A wicked scar sliced across his sharp cheekbone and bisected an eyebrow.
Fuck. Me, she thought, noting his broad shoulders and deliciously thick thighs. Well, he’s absolutely not what I expected an alien to look like. He’s a damned thirst trap.
They stared each other down. His leather armor creaked as he folded his arms over a wide chest, bright green gaze assessing as he slowly scanned her from head to toe.
Except for the pointed ears, he looked like he could be from Earth. God, the data she could bring back home from this experience, if ever going home was on the table.
Jen, one of her fellow test pilots and all-around brilliant chick, would give her left tit to hear about this encounter. She subscribed to the hypothesis of panspermia, a somewhat fringe theory that postulated life existed throughout the universe and didn’t originate on Earth. Examining the alien who looked like her favorite rugby players melded into a striking seven-foot package, she wondered if she’d just proven that theory.
As she stared, slack-jawed, his eyes narrowed. “You are not at all what I expected, female.”
She blinked hard. For god’s sake, focus, Lis. This is still a life-or-death situation, just with a hot dude added into the mix. “You neither,” she said, cocking her head. “Why can I understand you? I’m human, you’re an alien, and I don’t know your language.”
“Alien?” he asked, mirroring her head tilt. “No, I’m Nox Ovila, captain of Antana’s Luck.”
“Funny,” she said, though she didn’t know if he meant to be. “Fidelis Flynn, captain of ToddZ One.” She clenched her jaw, remembering. “Make that former captain. You can call me Lis.” She stuck out her hand.
“Lis,” he said, tasting her name. He gave her a slow smile that left her breathless and clasped her forearm, his hand warm on her skin. “Greetings, lovely Lis.”
She wanted to roll her eyes at the name alliteration, but it sounded too damn good rolling off his tongue. What was wrong with me? Obviously, she was losing her mind.
She licked her lips, noting how his eyes darkened. “Am I correct in thinking this isn’t Earth? Or even the Milky Way galaxy?” She held her breath, hoping the tablet’s data was corrupted and that she still had a chance.
Her heart sank when he shook his head. “Never heard of it. You’re on Cinzia in the Duana Sol system.”
