Page 40 of Alien Wants A Wife

“Sorry?”

I glance at Harlee over my shoulder. Her expressive brow is furrowed, and the corners of her mouth are cast down in a frown. “I mean…” Again I fail to find the right words.

“I don’t think you’re desperate.” She takes a step toward me, and I use her forward momentum to continue leading her to my cottage, whether or not that had been her intention of stepping closer.

“Why did you say that?” she asks.

I purse my lips.

“Roan?” Harlee follows me to the end of the tunnel and through the underground door that leads into my own kitchen. It is considerably smaller than Killan’s, as Killan’s used to be the house my brothers and I had shared with our parents. As Sorin and I had grown, we had built our own homes, and then our parents had moved back to Ril I, leaving the three of us each with our own place.

In preparation for LOVE GALAXY, I had cleaned every surface and inside every cupboard. Now, with my heart beating in my mouth, I step aside so Harlee may see my house—and everything I have to offer her.

Harlee

Roan’s gaze is locked on my face as he waits for me to examine his kitchen. I can tell this is a big deal to him because his expectation that I say something is almost tangible, a near-physical force. It’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely distracting, and for a moment I stare at the room not taking any of it in.

Then I blink. “It’s cute.” The kitchen is about a quarter the size of Killan’s, with a workbench along one wall, beside a modern-looking stovetop, oven and touch-screen tablet. Most of the space is being taken up by his kitchen table, which is big enough for two people to sit at, facing each other.

Set into the wall are a couple of hooks from which he’s hung posters—movie posters by the looks of it, with a variety of alien actors and bold script titles I can’t read. A few of the aliens look similar to Roan and are clearly from his home world. A few others are completely different. Blue, huge horns and spikes along their arms.

“Cute?” Roan looks around with a frown, as though he’s examining his home with fresh eyes.

“Cute is good,” I tell him. “I like it.”

The kitchen reminds me of Roan. He’s much more settled here than Killan is back in the main house. There are the movie posters for one, where Killan’s walls are blank. But I also catchsight of a few scratches and scrapes, suggesting Roan recently rearranged his furniture and accidentally bumped into the walls.

At my praise, he straightens, stretching the corners of his mouth upwards in what he evidently believes is a Human smile. It’s still super creepy, considering how many teeth he’s got, but it doesn’t cause me to flinch away from him like it did the first time we met.

I return the smile with one of my own. A genuine one. It’s always so easy to smile when I’m with Roan.

Immediately, he takes a half step toward me; I’m the sun and he’s being pulled closer by my gravity. His gaze drops lower, to my lips, and heat sizzles over my skin.

If I’d thought his expectation while he’d been waiting for me to compliment his kitchen had been tangible, then the look he’s giving me is akin to scorching fire. All-consuming. Inescapable.

We mightn’t share many of the same facial expressions, but at this moment I can tell exactly what Roan’s thinking. Probably because he never tries to hide his feelings. He’s that old saying: as easy to read as an open book.

And what he’s thinking about is how much he’d like to kiss me. And more. Much, much more.

Okay, I’ll admit there are a few other hints divulging Roan’s thoughts than his expression of open hunger. There’s also the growing bulge between his legs. And his panting breaths, loud enough I can hear them halfway across the room.

Self-consciousness ripples over me. It isn’t a bad type of self-consciousness; on the contrary. I can feel every thump of my racing heart. Hear my blood pounding in my ears. Feel the fabric of my clothes against my skin. Taste the air.

It doesn’t taste like Earth’s air. It’s grittier, somehow. More… natural. Probably because there aren’t any big cities on this planet pouring out pollution.

I lick suddenly dry lips, and Roan’s moan is filled with all kinds of longing. It does strange things to my knees, weakening my legs and causing my thighs to clench.

Oh, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a boyfriend, and I’m feeling woefully rusty. Added to that is the guilt that churns inside my stomach every time I think of Chloe’s orders.

Break Roan’s heart.

I open my mouth. I don’t know why. Maybe intending to tell him about my promise to Chloe, but of course that’s when I catch sight of the mini camera clipped to the lintel of the closest door. Another is attached to the kitchen table, and a third is hooked to the handle of a nearby cupboard.

I close my eyes for a brief second. I can’t say anything where Mr. Smith might hear. Especially as it’s my fault that Mr. Smith kicked Lydia and I out of his spaceship. He’s already mad enough at us; I can’t risk making him madder without also risking him refusing to take us home.

Blinking, I point to a door, directly opposite the one we’d entered through. “What’s in there?”

For a second, I think Roan’s going to ignore my question, and I wouldn’t blame him if he did. It couldn’t have been more obvious that I’m trying to break the tension between us.

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