by Karen Kelley
She looked up. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the leaning structure. Maybe the cabin hid behind this atrocity of a building.
“Where is it?” She tried to see through the trees as she looked for the place where she would be living while she researched the plants.
He raised his hand and pointed with one finger. “Right there in front of us.” He pulled up close to the wooden structure and stopped his craft—no, his pickup—then got out. He came around to her side and opened her door.
She got out, still staring at the structure. Surely, he wouldn’t expect her to live in something that looked so deplorable.
“It leans,” she said.
“Just the porch. I’ve been meaning to brace that side. The inside is level, though.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her alongside him. She tugged it free of his grip.
“What?” He looked genuinely surprised.
“You touched me.”
“And?” He planted his hands on his hips.
“I’m a healer. No one ever touches a healer. It’s not permitted.”
“You’ve got to be kid—” He stopped, drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “I’m sure I’m going to love this one. Okay, tell me why no one is allowed to touch you.”
She wasn’t sure she liked his attitude, but she would attempt to be more reasonable. He was, after all, an Earthman and therefore not as intelligent as she.
“By touching a healer, you can disrupt the flow of balance between her and the very air she breathes. A healer’s equilibrium must stay equalized at all times.” Anyone with any intelligence should know this, but then she remembered who she was speaking to.
He laughed.
She stiffened. “Did I say something that amused you?”
“Lady, you’ve been amusing me this whole trip.” He bent at the waist and motioned for her to proceed.
She swept past, glad that he had the ability to understand her. When she came to the door, she hesitated. He reached around her and placed a metal object inside a hole.
She inhaled, closing her eyes—nice. His scent pleasantly teased. Not soft like the ones the Elders used to mist the bubble that all Nerakians lived beneath. No, this was different. It made her body tingle and her nipples tighten and started an ache deep inside her.
What could be causing this rush of warmth that swept through her every time he came near? It would bear further scrutinizing when she had a moment.
He turned the knob at the same time he pushed on the door. “Home sweet home,” he said as he stepped inside.
Against her better judgment, she followed. It didn’t look sweet to her, as he’d claimed. Her nose wrinkled at the musty smell. A layer of grime covered everything. The room was dark and stuffy and completely unappealing. She tentatively reached out and touched a table. Her finger came away dirty.
Sam removed a filthy cloth that draped a lounging sofa. The cloth might have once been a lighter shade but was quite despicable now. He shook it before tossing it into the corner.
She coughed, almost gagging as the dust stirred up around her. No, this wouldn’t do at all. Already she could feel her body reacting to this environment, and not in a good way. She needed pure, filtered air.
“Sorry about that. It’s a little grubby,” he told her. “I haven’t been here in a while.”
A shudder swept over her. “It’s quite deplorable. If you diligently apply yourself and clean it properly, then I might be able to function in this hovel while trying to find a cure.”
Sam’s face turned a deep shade of red. He sputtered and coughed.
There, he’d just proved her point. The filth was affecting him, too.
Chapter 3
D eplorable! Hovel! The cabin was his pride and joy.
“Don’t hold back, lady,” Sam told her. “Go ahead, and tell me what you really think.”
“But I just did.” Her forehead wrinkled. “It’s wrong if I perceive myself as beautiful. And yet, I’m supposed to lie and say your cabin is quite wonderful when in reality it’s the opposite. Is that correct?”
Sam opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. He turned on his heel and marched back to his pickup. Once there, he rested his palms on the side of the bed as he fought to regain control of his anger.
Take a deep breath. Don’t explode.
He wouldn’t kill her. Kia would never forgive him if he killed her sister.
Lara came to the door. “You are going to clean the cabin, aren’t you?”
Okay, maybe he would kill her…
No, he had a better idea. “If you don’t like my cabin, then you clean it. The cleaning supplies are in the kitchen under the sink.”
He reached in the back and retrieved his fishing pole, tugged his hat further down on his head, and glared at her as he grabbed his tackle box.
“I’m going fishing. This is still my vacation.”
“You expect me to clean your cabin?”
“Lady, I don’t give a…a…” He looked at her as she stood on the porch looking so damned regal and—sexy. How could he be attracted to her when he didn’t even like her? “Do whatever you want to do.”
He took off on foot. There was a narrow river that ran through the woods not too far away. Maybe a little fishing would calm him down. That, or maybe a little Valium would be nice.
Damn, where the hell was his temper coming from? He’d never acted like this. He stomped through the woods, not even looking twice at the squirrel that scampered away. He usually liked watching the animals and exploring the woods that surrounded his cabin.
As soon as he got to the river, he let out a deep breath, then another until finally he began to feel like a human again.
Lara wasn’t at all like he’d expected. She’d seemed so angelic in the hologram. Well, hell, of course she would. It was a hologram. Kia said they used them rather than writing a letter. And just like a letter, she’d put her best foot forward. Man, he’d really been taken in. Maybe that was his problem. He didn’t like being made a fool of.
He cast his fishing line in the water and slowly began to reel it back toward him. The last time he’d been here, the bass weren’t biting, but he’d put a new lure on his line that was supposed to be good.
Nothing.
He cast the line out again and reeled it back in. It didn’t look like the fish were tempted to bite today, either. Had he ticked someone off upstairs?
Ah, man, he knew what his problem was with Lara. He’d fallen a little in love with her when he’d watched the hologram. She’d been safe. It wasn’t as if he’d ever see her in the flesh. No, she was someone he could put on a pedestal and never worry that she’d fall off.
Boy, she’d shot that image out of the water. Hell, what could he expect when she came from a planet of all women?
He realized his line was out of the water, the lure dripping water onto the ground. He frowned. Fishing was supposed to relax him, but all he could think about was Lara.
He tossed his line out a little too hard. It spun across the river and tangled in a fallen branch on the other side.
Damn, was nothing going right in his life? Appare
ntly not. He tugged. Did the branch move? He moved closer to the bank, leaned his pole out over the water, and jiggled it.
This time, he saw the branch move. A little more, and he could probably pop the line loose or at least jar the branch enough that it…
His feet went out from under him when the bank gave way. He landed in the water with a big splash and came up sputtering and spitting.
“Son of a bitch!” He sucked air. Damn, the water was freezing! It was only chest deep, but man, was it cold.
Hell, he was already soaked. He damn sure wasn’t leaving without his new lure. He waded across the narrow river and grabbed the branch, untangling his line, then waded back to the other side.
A hell of a way to start a vacation.
He climbed out of the water, stomping toward a large rock, then leaning against it. A squirrel chattered at him from an overhead branch as if it were laughing at him. He glared at the rodent, but it just sat there, staring.
“I’m the talk of the woods. Great, just great.”
He removed first one boot, then the other, dumping the water out of them. Nick would owe him the rest of his life for this. He’d take Talking Trudy any day.
He tugged his boots back on. Damned hard, too. It wasn’t good to get leather wet. Man, he really liked these boots. He’d had them for fifteen years and only resoled them four times. He grabbed his pole and tackle box and headed back to the cabin, squishing with every step.
Back to Lara.
Ethereal goddess, his ass.
She’d talked about his cabin, for Pete’s sake. No one talked about his cabin. He’d scraped and saved for years to buy it. She could sleep in the pickup if she hated it that much.
When he got back, Lara wasn’t in sight. He’d figured she’d be sitting on the porch waiting for him. A twinge of uneasiness swept through him. He went around to the back. She wasn’t there, either. He set the tackle box down and propped his fishing pole against the cabin.
He hoped she wasn’t walking back to her sister’s because he’d have to go after her—probably.
Did she hate his place that much?
What wasn’t to love about the piney woods, the deer, the squirrels, even smart-assed ones. A fishing pole in one hand and a can of beer in the other. Total relaxation.
He grimaced. At least, it used to be.
He cautiously opened the back door. Hell, he didn’t know what an uppity alien would do. She might just zap his butt. He should’ve asked more questions before he left Dallas with her.
His nose wrinkled as he stepped inside. He sniffed again. It smelled…soapy.
His eyes adjusted to the dim interior. When he could see, his mouth dropped open. Oh, man, this wasn’t right, not right at all.
It looked as if she’d dumped all the powdered detergent on every surface in the kitchen and part of the floor. He must’ve really pissed her off for her to get even like this.
He ran a finger through the muck on the counter. It wasn’t just dry detergent. She must’ve poured out the liquid first. Yeah, he’d really pissed her off.
There was a noise from the other room. He followed it, then stood in the doorway and watched.
Lara sprinkled dry detergent on the floor, then stooped over, looking down at the floor as if something major was supposed to happen.
What the hell was she doing?
She stomped her foot. “I don’t know how I’m expected to clean when the dirt will not go away!” She turned and screamed, throwing the box of detergent at him.
He dodged. Good thing he had quick reflexes or it would’ve hit him square in the face.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You frightened me.” She glared at him. “You could’ve let me know you’d returned.”
“Yeah, I could have.”
“I don’t understand you, Sam Jones, and I don’t understand how to clean.”
“That’s obvious.” He waved his arm. “Why are you destroying my cabin?”
Rather than answering, her eyes narrowed. “You’re all wet. While I cleaned, you were having fun playing in the water.”
He frowned. “I was not playing in the water. I…” Oh, yeah, she’d have a field day if he told her that he’d fallen in the river. “Just answer my question. Why the hell are you destroying my cabin?”
She raised her chin. “I cannot survive living in dirt. It upsets my inner balance. You said to clean, so I was cleaning.” She frowned. “You have inferior products. I read on the bottle of liquid detergent that it removes dirt and grime, so I poured it on the counters, but it just sat there. Then I found the powder that said it would get rid of dirt and grime, but it sat there doing nothing. Nerak’s products are much more superior.”
He laughed. Oh, God, he was going to kill Nick for getting him into this mess. Torture first, then a slow, painful death.
“Why are you laughing?” She planted her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.
He only laughed harder.
She wasn’t nearly as uppity as she had been earlier. Maybe it was the smudge of dirt on her face.
It was time to call a truce.
“Come on.” He walked back inside the kitchen and grabbed some cloths from under the sink. “Just pouring the cleaning product on a surface doesn’t make it clean.”
He glanced over his shoulder. She arched a haughty eyebrow.
“But I guess you figured that one out.” He ran water over one of the cloths, then rung it out. “This is how you do it.” He wiped it across the counter, rinsed it, then repeated what he’d just done.
She ran her hand over it. “It’s clean.”
“Who cleans on Nerak?”
“Companion units.”
“Like Barton?
“You know Barton?” Her eyes widened. “Mala’s companion unit?”
“He’s married to Carol, actually. I don’t think he knows he’s a companion unit, and Carol doesn’t seem to care.”
“Married?”
Of course, she wouldn’t know what married meant. There weren’t any men on Nerak. “Joined.” She still looked confused. “Took vows. Mated.”
“Mated? Ridiculous. I’d heard Barton was…different, but mated. It’s unheard of.”
“Don’t tell them. They seem happy enough.”
“You will make the cabin clean?” she asked, looking hopeful.
“On Earth, we each do our share.” He went to the closet and grabbed the broom, then motioned for her to follow him into the living room. “Brush this back and forth across the floor. It’s called sweeping. Aim toward the front door, and when you’ve done all the room, sweep the dirt outside.”
This was about the easiest job he could think to give her. Maybe she wouldn’t screw it up.
She arched an eyebrow. “You think I can’t do it, don’t you?” she asked, correctly reading his thoughts.
He forced himself not to smile. Okay, she was kind of cute, looking very affronted as she stood there with the smudge of dirt still on her face.
“Let’s just say I have my doubts.”
She grabbed the broom from him. “I can do anything you can do, only better. My race is much more superior than yours.” She marched to one corner and began to sweep. When he continued to stare, she
stopped. “Are you going to help or just stand there?”
“I’m going, just as soon as I change into dry clothes.” He was smiling as he went into his room. He was just careful she didn’t see it. He wouldn’t want her to think he was starting to like her.
Maybe she wasn’t so bad. She only needed to learn how things were done on Earth. She might be from Nerak, but she was in his neck of the woods now.
His grin widened. He could hear her grumbling in the other room. He wondered what was giving her fits now. Whatever it was, at least she was out of his way. He’d get the kitchen cleaned so they’d have a place to eat tonight. He’d worry about the rest of the house later.
Companion units. It must be nice to have someone waiting on you all the time. Every demand met. No wonder she was so uppity. Before Lara left Earth, she’d see how other people lived, and he’d almost bet she wouldn’t be the same.
Lara’s robe dragged through the dust and dirt she’d swept into a pile and scattered it about—again. How did Earthmen get anything done without getting dirty?
She glanced at the hem of her beautiful green robe and saw how soiled it was getting. Deplorable. She marched to the other room and pulled the top bedcloth back, exposing the clean one beneath it.
After untying her robe, she slipped it off her shoulders and carefully laid it across the bed. She smiled as she went back to the other room. Now at least, she wouldn’t ruin it.
There was much more freedom cleaning without clothes to hamper her progress. She would show Sam exactly what she could do, and more!
She had all the dirt in front of the door when she heard a strangled cough from behind her. She turned. Sam stood in the doorway.
“There, it’s finished.” She glanced around the room. The floor fairly sparkled—she’d done such a wonderful job.
“Where’s your dress…”—he waved a finger around—“thingy…robe, whatchamacallit?” He finally pointed toward her.
She raised an eyebrow. He didn’t seem to notice the clean floor. Disappointment filled her. She’d hoped for more. Silly, she knew. After all, he was an Earthman, and she shouldn’t care what he thought.