An Alien For Christmas (Zerconian Warriors Book 16)

by Sadie Carter

  “Come. Sit.”

  He moved to the small, low round table that rested in the middle of the room. Thick cushions lay on the floor around it. Que sat, somehow not spilling anything on his plate, which was piled high with food. Keely placed her plate down before sitting opposite him.

  “Que, about before—”

  “I know you do not wish to mate with me,” he said, surprising her.

  He was different. Something had changed. He’d always been somewhat intense, but now he was guarded as well. Had she done that? Forced him to erect a wall to protect himself?

  Well, you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?

  “It’s not just you,” she said uncomfortably. “Like I said before, I don’t want to mate with anyone.”

  “I have decided to give you that time you asked for. There is much going on right now.” He swallowed heavily. “With my brother.”

  She resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze his thigh. And now she felt even more like a selfish bitch. Here she was, once again, thinking of herself.

  “I must concentrate on him and the trouble he is in.” He turned his dark blue gaze to her. It wasn’t filled with that intense hunger it usually was when he looked at her. It was still intense, but not focused on her.

  Shit, did she miss that? Fuck. Did she want Que’s attention?

  “So, you need not worry that I will use this opportunity to press you to mate with me. I know you are irritated with how I have been following you. I wish you to know I shall not do this anymore.”

  Was he backing off? Was this his way of telling her he was giving up? Her stomach dropped.

  “I’m confused. Do you not think I’m your mate anymore?”

  He leaned forward. That light in his eyes was back. The knot in her stomach eased. Oh yeah, she was in craploads of trouble.

  “I know you are my mate. I also know that scares you.”

  “It doesn’t scare me,” she scoffed. Fuck, how had he figured that out?

  He just gave her a look. “I do not understand humans well. I have not spent much time with them. And you are good at pretending otherwise. But a few hours ago, when you told me you needed time, I finally figured out that you are scared. Of me. I do not wish you to be scared of me. It is upsetting to realize I have been frightening you.”

  Oh crap. She couldn’t have him thinking that.

  “I’m not scared of you. At least not physically.” She took in a breath and blew it out. “I’m not good at talking about stuff like emotions and feelings, okay?”

  “We must talk of emotions and feelings?” He looked like he wanted to hurl and to her shock, she found herself smiling.

  “I get that you guys aren’t big fans of that sort of talk either.”

  He grimaced.

  “Thing is.” She rubbed her finger over the table. “I’ve lived my life according to someone else’s rules for a long time. My goal in life was to get away from him. To make enough money so that I was free to make my own rules, live life how I wanted to.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “And you believe I threaten that life you wish to live.”

  “Well, yeah. You can’t deny you’ve got set ideas on what you think I should do. You’ve already told me that once we’re mated you expect me to stay at home, not work, give you kids, walk around with an escort.” She rubbed at her chest as it grew tight, her lungs constricted. “You have your views on what you expect your mate to be. On what you want your life to be. I have mine and they don’t gel.”

  “Gel,” he repeated.

  “We’re not well suited, Que. We’d spend most of our time arguing.”

  “I have been told that arguing ends in make-up sex. That does not sound like a bad thing.”

  She felt herself growing warm. “Well, make-up sex can be fun, I guess. But not all arguing ends in make-up sex.”

  “Why not?”

  “Some arguing can get carried away and it can end up. . .it can end up in people leaving you. Walking out and not coming back.”

  Que studied his mate.

  He was not certain what had prompted her to share her emotions and feelings. Warriors did not do well with either of those things. But he could not deny it was giving him more information he needed about Keely.

  Desperately.

  “Someone walked out and left you.”

  “We’re not talking about that,” she said abruptly. Standing, she grabbed her plate.

  “You have not eaten.

  “I’m not hungry,” she lied.

  “I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

  “Urgh, anyone ever tell you that you should just let some things go?”

  “Let them go?” He did not understand. “Go where?”

  “Lord, give me strength,” she muttered. “I mean you don’t have to point everything out. Like when I say I’m full, you don’t need to say that my stomach is growling.”

  “I do not understand. If you are hungry, you should eat. Why would you lie about it?”

  “I just. . . don’t feel like eating anymore.”

  She did look somewhat unwell.

  “Do you feel ill?” he asked, alarmed. What would he do if she was sick?

  “No, it’s not that.”

  Silence filled the room.

  “My mother left, okay? My mother left me when I was four. She left me with a guy who wasn’t my dad and he wasn’t very nice. He controlled everything I did. I never got to think for myself. I was his puppet. And if I didn’t do what he said. . .”

  “If you didn’t do what he said. . .” Que prompted when she said nothing else. He sat on the cushion, barely breathing, his stomach a knot of tension. What had this male done to her? If he had hurt her. . .

  “It. . .it doesn’t matter, all right? I can’t believe I told you that. I. . .I’m going to go bathe.” She put her food in the dispenser and practically raced into the bathroom. He just stared after her.

  He’d made a mistake. A big one. He had thought she was denying their mating because she did not believe him. She was good at hiding her true thoughts and feelings and he was not used to understanding human females. But earlier and now, he saw the fear that hid beneath her bravado.

  She was denying the mating because she was scared.

  Of him.

  Of what he would demand of her.

  No longer hungry himself, he dumped his food and moved into the cockpit once more. He needed to think about this. About how to proceed with Keely.

  6

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  She wished she’d never blurted out that stuff to him. What was she thinking? Out of everyone, why did she choose him to unload on?

  You didn’t tell him that much.

  She took a deep breath then another one. She needed to build her defenses back up. Somehow, he’d managed to slither through them. What was with that? She’d told him things that she’d never divulged to anyone. Blue and Jack knew her mom had left, of course. They’d lived in the same shitty place she had, with two truly awful parents.

  But she’d never told them how bad she’d had it at home. She’d kept that from everyone. She’d always been the good girl, the one who had done everything asked of her. She knew Blue had never really understood that. She’d always been the rebellious one.

  But even though her parents had been shitty, Blue had always had Jack. Keely had no one. Not even the bastard who had raised her since she wasn’t actually his—something he’d reminded her of often.

  She’d hidden how bad things were for her. And she’d been good at it. So good, she’d hidden behind walls all her life, never letting herself completely knock them down no matter how close she got to someone.

  And now, for some reason, she’d just told Que. The worst person to tell. Because give him an inch and he’d take a mile.

  Right now, he was probably gearing up to push her for more. No doubt he planned to use the ammunition she’d just given him to try and get further under her skin. Panic sent goosebumps across h
er skin.

  He’ll only get in if you let him.

  And what if she wanted to let him? She stared at herself in the mirror. It might sound immodest but she knew she was pretty. She had a good body. She probably carried more weight than was fashionable on Earth, but she didn’t care. She had a well-shaped ass, nice boobs, small waist, and gorgeous head of hair.

  Keely didn’t give a shit about any of that. She took care of herself, dressed to impress, but her looks weren’t important to her. Building a life for herself was. Safety was. Being her own woman was.

  Being with Que, safety would be guaranteed. She already knew that, him being the man he was. But building a life with Que? That thought terrified her. Because she was scared that Que would take her over. Turn her into what he wanted her to be. Not let her be herself. All she’d become was Que’s mate.

  She’d be at his mercy.

  Stop being so dramatic, Keely.

  Crap. She hated dealing with feelings. When she and the others had escaped the planet where they’d been enslaved after leaving Earth, she’d promised herself that she was going to build a life where she had to rely on no one. It meant making a lot of money. She knew that. She’d turned her mind to how she could do that. She’d become the negotiator for the group. She dealt with clients. She wrangled deals. She made them money.

  Unfortunately, as much as she seemed to make money, they’d had bills flooding in. Something on the ship always needed fixing and they never really got further ahead.

  And then their ship was blown to pieces. And they’d had nothing. She’d tried to hide that blow, and she’d probably thrown around more attitude than was necessary to hide how shaken she was.

  Her home was gone.

  Now, she was making a new home for herself. And she had to admit, it was actually better than what they’d had. It was a hell of a lot safer, for one. Which was important. She might not own the home she lived in, but it was a house and she could make it hers. She had a job she loved and she used those skills she’d honed over the years. She’d learned how to read people, research them, understand their motivations and then she’d use all that to charm them.

  She hadn’t once tried to charm Que.

  Because he was too busy chasing her. She had no reason to charm him. He was always there. When she didn’t want him to be.

  Don’t you?

  Christ, she was a mess.

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t know what the hell to do with Que. She just knew that if she let him in, she might lose her.

  And if she didn’t, she’d definitely lose him.

  Fuck.

  Que stared out at the universe, not really seeing what was in front of him.

  His mind was puzzling over the problem of Keely.

  Even once he knew it was highly unlikely his mate would be a Zerconian female, he had still expected things to be simple.

  He’d thought finding her would be the tough part, not getting her to take a chance on him.

  What should he do? He didn’t want to scare her off. Didn’t want to force her to run. And he got the feeling she might well do that if he pushed too hard. He was having to rethink this whole mating thing. Coming on too strong, telling her what was going to happen only seemed to make her angry.

  Humans could be so strange.

  He would think that she would enjoy having a male who wished to take care of her. That was all he wished. To make her happy.

  Except, had he only been trying to make himself happy? He scowled. He did not enjoy thinking of that, about how perhaps he had been so determined to make her his mate, he hadn’t considered what she might want or need.

  Perhaps what he needed to do was let her come to him. By showing her that she could trust him. He smiled. And luckily, they were in such close quarters, she would not ever be that far away.

  Okay, Que was acting weird.

  Gone was the somewhat arrogant, bossy warrior and in his place was someone far more thoughtful. She could swear he was studying her. Not following her around like he had been these past few weeks, stating he was protecting her. He was actually paying attention.

  She wasn’t sure she liked it.

  Yesterday, after her outburst, she’d expected him to push further. But he hadn’t. In fact, he hadn’t mentioned what she’d said at all. She came out of the bathroom to find a plate of food on the table. He’d walked in, given her an assessing look, and then nodded over at the food.

  “For you,” was all he’d said.

  She’d been geared up for an argument, waiting for him to order her to eat. But he’d moved past her towards the bathroom, not saying anything more.

  She’d still wanted to refuse the food. Then she’d realized she was being a stubborn idiot since she was starving. And she’d already wasted one lot of food. She’d been raised without much; wasting food wasn’t in her.

  So she’d eaten. And she’d actually felt better. Until bedtime hit. But then, Que surprised her again. She’d half-expected him to try to push things by insisting they sleep together on the same masic. Which meant it would be pretty likely that one of them would brush against the other, skin-to-skin, and set off the mating bond.

  If they were mates.

  But he’d told her to take the masic and he’d arranged the cushions on the floor to sleep on. She’d felt a little bad about that, since he was doing all the work. But that stubborn streak had shown itself when he refused to hear about her taking the floor and him taking the masic.

  And instead of annoying her, she’d felt. . .taken care of.

  Fuck.

  He was getting to her. What’s more, he knew it. He was doing it deliberately. She realized now she’d underestimated his intelligence. She’d thought him incapable of seeing things from anyone’s view but his own.

  She was wrong.

  Yep, totally underestimated him. And in these close quarters, with him being contemplative and sexy and not totally annoying. . .she was completely screwed.

  Crap.

  “Time to eat.”

  She looked up, startled. Her tablet was in her hand, but she hadn’t been paying much attention to what was on it. So when she stared up at him, at that huge, hunk of gorgeousness, she forgot to turn off the tablet.

  His face darkened slightly as he stared down at the image. She winced and quickly shut it down, darkening the screen so the photo of a woman’s bruised skin was no longer there.

  “Sorry, I—” She wasn’t actually sure what she’d been going to say or why exactly she was apologizing since it was going to be her job to get to the bottom of what was going on and to handle everyone affected by this. Not an easy job. And to make it easier she needed to understand the main players. She knew it wasn’t right to think of them as players. This wasn’t a game. But it was the way she always came at these sorts of issues. When she was negotiating a deal, she first researched who she was dealing with, what their weaknesses and strengths were, what they wanted. She was good at reading people; it was one skill her stepfather had given her that was useful. Working out someone’s mood, what they were thinking, feeling.

  She’d thought she’d gotten a correct read on Que. That he was arrogant, stubborn, demanding and thought he was always right.

  She was starting to think she was wrong. Especially as she now stared into his face, which was filled with pain.

  “Do not apologize,” he said stiffly. “You are there to deal with the humans.”

  Actually, her main job as Mila explained it was to get to the truth. They hoped Zandar would talk to Que, yes. But that didn’t mean that Que would want to act on what he heard. Or that it would be the truth. That would be up to her to figure it out. It was unknown if Que could be impartial when it came to his family, especially a brother who he had thought had died.

  “I never thought to see him again,” he said suddenly.

  She sucked in a breath as he placed a plate of food in front of her on the table. The plate, as she thought it would be, was filled with her favorite
things.

  “It must have been a huge shock to realize he was alive.”

  He sat across from her; his own plate piled high. If she ate that much, he’d have to roll her around because she’d be the size of a house. But she guessed all those muscles of his needed fueling.

  Some of the Zerconians wore shirts similar to humans. But many wore what he was wearing right now, which was little more than two black straps across his chest and some tight trousers that left little to the imagination.

  And just to be clear. He was most definitely in proportion. All. Over.

  Lord help her.

  “Keely? Are you well?”

  She blinked. Then raised her eyes to him. He was staring down at her with concern, and she blushed bright red.

  Holy shit. She’d been caught out staring at his crotch.

  “You are flushed. Are you well?”

  “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to realize what she was doing. At least she was saved that embarrassment.

  “You are certain.”

  “Yep,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “What was he like? Your brother?”

  “Strong. Savage. Ferocious.”

  “Jeez, he sounds sweet.”

  He scowled. “Warriors are not sweet.”

  “It was sarcasm.”

  “Sarcasm. That means you do not think he sounds sweet.”

  “Nope. He sounds a little terrifying.”

  His chest actually puffed up with pride. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “He was terrifying. Is terrifying.”

  His chest deflated as something filled his face she couldn’t quite decipher. Confusion? Worry? She’d never seen him look worried; he was always so confident. But she guessed a brother coming back from the dead would be enough to throw the most confident person off their stride.

  “So, sweetcheeks, anything else you can tell me about him to help me?”

  That worry vanished as he turned to glare at her. “This sweetcheeks is sarcasm too?”

  “Sort of.” His ass was most definitely sweet. The urge to squeeze it was almost too much to resist. What was wrong with her? She didn’t need to find him irresistible. She didn’t need to feel empathy for him.