CHAPTER 4
RACHEL
“Please…your…name?”
The three words slowly translated in Rachel’s mind while the rest of them whirled right past her level of comprehension like a high-speed train she couldn’t catch. If there had been any doubt the man was an alien before, she now had her confirmation after he opened his mouth and spoke to her in the Union language.
But why did he want to know her name?
Rachel frowned and leaned against the wall across from the couch with a mug of tea in her hands. She studied the man as he sat there looking up at her, his eyes a strangely golden hue that sparkled in the yellow light of the room. His look was keen and curious, but a slight wrinkle had formed between his brows.
He was frustrated, she realized. Although, Rachel supposed she could hardly blame him under the circumstances. It was clear that he didn’t understand her. She had just asked him who he was and how he had ended up here, but although he seemed to have listened carefully, it was obvious he hadn’t actually caught a single word she’d said.
Was he an illegal? The disturbing thought entered Rachel’s mind all of a sudden, and her eyes narrowed as she continued to look at the man. Had she just saved a pirate?
Sometimes, despite the Union’s best efforts, illegals managed to get past the troops that patrolled the outer atmosphere of Earth. Could this man be one? She knew that all the Union troops wore translators and took their instructions from the Earth Observatories in English. So why didn’t this one understand her? Could it be that he wasn’t Union?
Her whole body tensed at the thought, but when he lifted a hand up to his ear and pulled out some kind of a broken device – no doubt a translator – a breath of relief escaped her lips.
Not a pirate, then.
Finally getting a better look at his uniform, she realized that it bore a Union emblem on the lapel, and she almost laughed at her stupidity. Of course, that should’ve been the first thing to check. But either way, she was relieved he hadn’t crashed to Earth in hopes of stealing something.
He was no bank robber, no smuggler, and no kidnapper. He wasn’t there to take Earth women against their will and sell them to the highest bidder, like some of pirates liked to do. He was Union. One of the good guys, and knowing that made Rachel feel more at her ease. Her shoulders relaxed as she continued to gaze at the man on her couch.
Now that he was conscious and sitting up, she realized just how huge he really was. Had she actually managed to haul all that into the back of her SUV and then into her living room? She shook her head, unable to understand just how she’d managed to do it.
Looking him over, she noticed he was well-toned. Even with his suit on, she could make out the curves and dips of his arms and legs, the tapered waistline, the broad chest, the flat, taut belly, and the bulge in his…
Rachel blushed and quickly looked away. Why on earth was he hard?
Calm down, Rachel. He just woke up, remember?
Right. That was definitely it. He just had a little – or not so little – problem called ‘morning wood’. Perfectly normal, and something she should do her best to ignore, because even the thought of a man with a bulge in his pants tended to make her cheeks flame. Especially when that man was closer to seven foot tall, absolutely gorgeous and–
Oh, god… Was she really having carnal thoughts about some poor guy who had just crashed his spaceship? She shook her head, trying to erase all such notions from her mind. It had obviously been far too long since she’d had a man if that was the direction her mind was taking her.
The man – alien – shifted on the couch. Rachel could feel how his eyes were trained on her – as though he wanted to coerce her to look back at him with nothing more than the power of his mind.
She doubted he had those kind of mental abilities, but either way, it worked. She turned back toward him, even though she continued to avoid his gaze. She didn’t really trust her feelings around him at the moment.
He said something to her again, but this time, she didn’t catch any of the words. The sound of his voice however awakened her from whatever stupor she’d been in, and she realized she should probably try to communicate with him.
Picking her brain for the bits of Union language she knew, she gave it a try.
“Iq edun Rachel,” she said, answering his earlier question. But as soon as the words left her mouth, she shook her head in irritation. The sentence sounded wrong even to her own ears, and she silently cursed herself for not studying more of the Union language during her college years.
The students had all been assured that thanks to modern technology and the Union translators, they would have no reason to really learn any alien languages – not even the Union standard – and that if they ever managed to rise far enough up the ranks to land a job that required the knowledge, they could always learn it then.
Right, Rachel thought, rolling her eyes. So much for that. It seemed she would already need the Union language as a mere Observatorial intern. Wasn’t that just her luck?
Despite her no doubt heavily-accented words, the alien’s golden eyes lit up as he took in her words. He straightened his shoulders and pulled himself upright on the couch as he seemed to realize that she spoke his language. Hope sprang into his eyes and it was almost like he’d become a whole different man.
“Rachel…,” he repeated, as if in awe. His voice was rough and the way he pronounced her name was unusual – almost sensual in nature, and an involuntary shiver ran straight down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, even though the shiver had nothing to do with the cold. “Id’ea Vezan?”
Do you speak Vezan? The words translated in Rachel’s mind a moment later.
‘Vezan’ was the Union language. Like Esperanto, it was made up in an attempt to form one language that would be easy for everyone to learn – except that when those learning it were various species who had different kinds of vocal chords, that made it a lot more difficult to develop the ‘simple’ part for everyone.
Rachel lifted her fingers up and held them with a slight gap between them as she answered, “Keega’he.” A bit.
The man smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. His golden eyes sparkled with happiness, and it was like he lit up the whole room. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat as his warmth spread through her, lighting up her entire body.
“Iq edun Erro,” he told her in that deep voice of his.
“Erro… Eq’ae… iri?” She tried to ask him how he had ended up here, but the words weren’t coming out right. Shit. She really should’ve taken more courses in Vezan. Even the alien shook his head, clearly confused by her question.
“Iri’e?” Here where?
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up at the question. Was he asking her where he was? Didn’t he know? Maybe it hadn’t been her words that had confused him then. Maybe he just didn’t remember that his ship had crashed. Was he suffering from amnesia or something? Then too, he might as well be just asking about her house.
Deciding to answer both questions, just in case, Rachel said, “Iri… Ewan. Alaska. Terra.”
“Terra?” He frowned again, but then his expression cleared as if that word had triggered a memory in his brain. Suddenly, he started to talk… a lot. As if he was telling her everything that had happened up until his crash and although Rachel could catch a few words here and there, she couldn’t make out what he was actually saying.
“Neda mie,” she interrupted him with a wave of her hand, shaking her head. She shrugged apologetically, wishing she didn’t have to admit that she didn’t understand, but unfortunately, his speech was just far too advanced for her.
The dejected look returned to his face when he realized that she couldn’t understand him, and his shoulders slumped again. He brought his hands to his forehead and rubbed them over his face. All at once, he looked hopelessly lost.
Rachel felt a sudden pang of pity for the guy. He was on a strange planet, in some stranger’s house, and he could hardly even communicate with her. He must feel so lost and confused. She knew she’d certainly feel that way in his situation.
Unable to control herself, Rachel stepped over and stretched out a hand to comfort him. But just as she did so, she noticed that he was shivering. Crap… She immediately stopped in her tracks. Was he cold? But of course, he was. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest, remembering that it couldn’t be above five degrees outside, and she hadn’t even remembered to start a fire.
While his suit looked heavy, she now saw that it was made of a thin fabric – one that was currently decorated with holes. That meant it probably didn’t provide nearly enough insulation. Shit… She should have known he would be cold.
Rachel hurried into the other room to fetch her spare quilt and returned to drape it around his broad shoulders. Casting her an appreciative glance, the man pulled the padded covering tighter around himself. “Cen’diy,” he thanked her.
She smiled and nodded.
The alien – Erro, she corrected – watched her again, his gaze falling onto the mug she was holding. Maybe he was thirsty?
“Would you like to try it?” she asked, unable to translate her words into Union this time. She didn’t even know what ‘tea’ was in the language, so she simply offered him the mug, hoping he would understand.
At first, Erro simply looked at the mug, a curious expression on his face, as if he was trying to figure out what it was. Then, he slowly took it from her hand and brought it up to his lips. He sniffed the drink cautiously, but soon took a large sip, as if the tea wasn’t hot at all.
Rachel sucked in a breath, horrified at not warning him about the burning temperature of the tea, but as he simply swallowed instead of howling out in pain, Rachel was again reminded that she wasn’t exactly dealing with a human here.
A slow, satisfied smile spread over his features as he brought down the mug again, and Rachel couldn’t help but smile back at him, relieved that he hadn’t burned himself.
“I’m glad you like it,” she told him, sitting down on the other end of the couch. She knew he couldn’t understand the English, but if felt weird, and maybe even a bit rude, to not say anything at all. She figured speaking in English was better than nothing.
When he offered the mug back, she shook her head. “No, I can make myself another mug later. I think you need it more.”
He nodded appreciatively, seeming to understand her, although Rachel was pretty sure he was just pretending to. Still, he took another sip of the tea.
After a few more sips, he started to talk again, this time taking care to pronounce his words clearly and slowly. No doubt he hoped that she would understand him better that way, but unfortunately, she couldn’t. It wasn’t a matter of his speaking clearly, her vocabulary was just too limited.
Rachel cast him another apologetic look, and when he realized she still wasn’t comprehending, he stopped, rubbing his face with his free hand and muttering what sounded like a curse.
He scooted closer, sitting right next to her. The next thing she knew, he took one of her hands in his, his gold-flecked eyes boring straight into hers with an intensity unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
“Ele’a.”
He’d said that word before too, when she had walked into the room and he’d first seen her. At the time, Rachel had assumed it to be a greeting in his native tongue. Now though, she realized what it really was. The sincerity in his eyes and the tone of his voice made her heart skip a beat. Her cheeks flushed and heat coursed through her veins, spreading all over her body.
It wasn’t a greeting. It was a term of endearment.
Startled by the realization – and her body’s reaction – Rachel quickly stood up. Too quickly. Her arm bumped his, and some of the tea spilled on his leg. The bronze liquid seeped right through a burn hole in his pant leg, and he sucked in a breath.
“Shit!” Rachel groaned as he set down the mug and looked for something to wipe it with. She rushed into the kitchen to fetch a towel, running back to him with it. She dropped onto her knees to clean him up, hoping it hadn’t burned him too badly.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” she repeated. “Ver’a, ver’a!”
What in the world was wrong with her, anyway? Why should one word affect her so much? And how could an alien affect her so much? Sure, the guy was undeniably hot – maybe hotter than any man she’d ever physically seen in her whole life – but he was still an alien. Maybe it was just because she hadn’t been in such close quarters with a man for so long?
But he was an alien for heaven’s sake! He was…
Her hand stilled. She had inadvertently brushed against the bulge between his thighs, and she realized the thing was still rock hard. Her cheeks heated up and the contact made her body burn hotter than ever.
He, too, seemed affected by her touch. Erro sprang up quickly, as if he had been electrocuted, spouting a string of garbled syllables in an exasperated tone before he rushed to the front door or her cabin.
Before she could say anything or even manage to get to her feet, he yanked it open, letting an icy blast of blizzard straight into the room.
“No!”