Page 22 of The Alien's Stolen Rebel

In the dim lighting, it wasn’t easy to choose between the outfits on offer, even discarding all theones I had no idea how to put on. There were a lot of those, with complex fastenings or layers I didn’t have the patience to work out. Despite the nagging voice in the back of my head urging me to dress up for Kreel, I just went with the first things that fit.

Without a mirror, I had to trust that it all looked okay. A frilly blouse and pants that were a little more figure-hugging than I’d have preferred seemed modest enough not to send a message I didn’t want Kreel to get.

Yes, I do. I really do.

I blushed and growled at the thought.Down, girl. Things to sort out first, remember?

But I don’t wanna!

When, I asked myself, did my libido turn into such a damned brat?

I left my suite, the decking cool under my bare feet. I’d tried a couple of pairs of shoes, but none fitted well enough and the surfaces I walked on were smooth and safe. Bare feet would be fine.

Finding the bridge was easy, the central corridor of theStarshadowled straight to it. Kreel sat in the captain’s chair, looking at the scattering of holographic notes floating in front of him. He looked round as I entered, slipping an admiring smile on over the pensive expression he’d had until that point.

The change was almost fast enough that I didn’t notice it. What was he hiding?

“It’s good to see you up and awake, Rachel.” His firm, rough voice sent a shiver through me, remindingme of just how irresistible I found the alien pirate. It wasn’t just his looks, as amazing as they were. It was everything about him. His looks, his smell, his taste, the feel of his skin…and, perhaps most of all, the sound of his voice.

It took an effort to wrench my attention back on track, and I was certain he’d noticed my distraction. At least he was a gentleman enough not to call attention to my pause.

Instead, he stood from the seat, a gesture flicking the holograms to the wall where I could see them. I glanced over, more for the distraction from my alien lover’s beautiful bare torso than anything else.

“News channels?” I asked. Talking heads from various species opined on the events of the day, each hologram a window into a different studio.

“When running a stolen ship, I find it's valuable to know what the galaxy is talking about,” Kreel answered. “It’s always nice to know if there’s a bounty on your head.”

I nodded slowly, stepping closer and feeling his golden eyes on me. Apparently, he approved of my clothing choice, because he let out a soft growl as I came closer.

Blood rushed to my cheeks, and a tingle ran across my body. Trying valiantly to ignore it, I looked closer at the hologram screens. Each time I focused on one, the audio started playing until I looked away, so I skipped around until I found a language I could follow.

I expected Galtrade, the common language of trade. To my surprise, it was English.

“…Search continues for the passenger kidnapped during the pirate attack on theClarke’s Dream. Rachel Day, sometimes called the ‘Crown Princess of Mars,’ was last seen getting into an escape pod during the pirate attack on the liner. Now, more than three weeks later, the chances of finding her are considered slim. The Martian king, Heston Day, has offered a reward of a hundred thousand Martian marks for his daughter’s return.”

The video showed me aboard theClarke’s Dream,smiling in pictures taken with the crew. No mention of the fact they’d given me up without a fight. That was bad enough, but the newscaster’s slightly smug, cut-glass English accent irritated me. Terrans were good at that, sometimes without even noticing they were doing it—the condescending attitude of ‘see, colonists, if only you’d been smart enough to stay part of the Terran Hegemony, you wouldn’t have this trouble.’

“The goddamn ship is Earth registered,” I growled at the hologram. “And the crew handed me over to the pirates, for fuck’s sake. Damn it, if they can’t even tell the truth about how I was kidnapped, how the hell was anyone meant to find me?”

The newscaster ignored me, of course.Great, now you’re picking fights with recordings. Very smart, very sane.

Oblivious to my anger, the hologram continued with a smile. “In other news, we’ve received reports that a Terran artwork, stolen during the Uplink Warand held in the private collection of an alien collector, has once again been stolen?—”

I looked away, silencing the screen. Whatever humor the Englishwoman found in the re-theft of a looted artwork, I wasn’t in the mood to share it. The mention of my father, and how long I’d been missing, left me thinking about how much this had put my family through. By now, they must think I was dead.

“At least the Terrans are still looking for you,” Kreel said, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. I pouted.

“Doesn’t sound like they’re looking hard.” It was uncharitable—how much could I expect them to spend on what looked like a hopeless mission?—but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “Dad’s still doing what he can. I guess you can hand me over to him for the reward. That’s something.”

“If I were so mercenary, there are better offers on the table. I am not tempted.”

“Are you sure? This way you’d get paid, guilt-free, and get Frax off your back all at once.” I tried to make it a joke, but it came out all wrong. I sounded worried by the possibility, and Kreel noticed. His powerful hand squeezed, offering wordless support.

I leaned back into his grasp, putting my hand on his and trying to believe him. Seconds passed in silence, then he sighed.

“If you wish to return to your father, I will take you to him. There is no need to reward me for something I would do anyway, though I’m no paragon. If pressed,I’ll take the money. I would prefer not to leave you anywhere, though. We belong together.”

Those last words he whispered into my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through me. My doubts melted under it, along with my body, but I held firm.

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