Oz: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 5)

by Ditter Kellen

  Oz left the wheelhouse and strode off down the hall to his room. He stood in front of his door for long moments before turning the knob and letting himself inside.

  His breath became trapped in his lungs. Maria lay on top of the covers, her dark hair spilling across his pillow. The borrowed T-shirt she wore rode up her stomach, exposing her toned abs.

  Oz allowed his gaze to travel across the rosy tips of her breasts, visible through the thin material of the T-shirt, before moving to her perfectly formed, shapely thighs.

  She had to be the sexiest form of femininity Oz had ever beheld.

  He suddenly found himself standing over her, staring down at her from his great height. She looked small and fragile, lying there in his big bed.

  She mumbled something in her sleep, her hand coming to rest on his thigh.

  Oz was fully erect by the time she took another breath. Her palm coasted up his hip to settle on his now throbbing erection.

  Maria’s legs shifted on the bed, a soft moan escaping her throat.

  What was he doing? Oz wondered, gritting his teeth to keep from throwing himself on her. She was his enemy’s sister.

  She gently squeezed his shaft through his jeans, and Oz was lost.

  He eased his knee between hers, spread her legs apart, and covered her body with his own.

  She sought out his mouth, her arms encircling his shoulders in a grip that surprised Oz. But nothing prepared him for the feel of her soft lips on his.

  He sucked gently on the tip of her tongue.

  Maria stiffened beneath him, her eyes opening into large orbs of horror.

  “Get off me,” she demanded, shoving hard at his chest.

  Oz rolled to his feet in an instant, mortified yet strangely aroused.

  Maria followed suit, facing him in outrage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Forgive me,” Oz offered, running a hand down his face. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  Maria took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest in a protective manner.

  “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Oz assured her, noticing the accusation swimming in her eyes. “You touched me first.”

  “I…what? I did no such thing. I—”

  Her words were cut off as the yacht tilted, throwing her forward into Oz’s arms.

  She jerked back, fear replacing her earlier condemnation. “What was that?”

  Oz reached out to steady her before letting his hand fall away. “It was a wave. We’re heading into some bad weather. Lock everything down that’s lying about. It’s going to get much worse.”

  “Wait,” Maria blurted as he turned to go. “When you say bad, do you mean bad enough to sink us or just enough to nauseate us?”

  “It’s a tropical storm, Maria. With everything going on recently, none of us were aware of its existence. But it’s very real, and it’s nearly upon us.”

  Chapter Eight

  Maria stared in more than a little terror at Oz’s retreating back. The only thing she hated more than sharks were storms.

  She and her mother had barely survived a hurricane when Maria was only six years old.

  “You can’t leave me down here,” Maria demanded, rushing to catch up to Oz. “What are you going to do?”

  Maria was more than aware of the fear echoing in her voice. But she didn’t care. She’d be damned if she would stay behind to ride out the storm by herself.

  Oz stopped at the stairs leading to the wheelhouse and turned to face her. “I’m going to try and maneuver us through these choppy waves. The best thing you can do is put on a life vest and stay in my room. It’s far safer down there than up here.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Maria insisted, standing her ground. “With or without your consent.”

  Oz shook his head and continued on up the steps with Maria tight on his heels.

  He nodded toward a chair that was thankfully bolted to the floor. “If you’re going to stay up here, you sit there and stay out of the way.”

  Maria didn’t need to be told twice. She parked her butt in the white vinyl chair and folded her shaking hands in her lap.

  Gryke turned the wheel over to Oz and shifted his gaze to Maria. “Do not lose the contents of your stomach anywhere near me. Or I will toss you over the side to feed the sharks.”

  Her stomach lurched.

  “Leave her alone,” Fiona snapped, stepping into the wheelhouse and glaring at Gryke. “Not everyone possesses gills, you big, overgrown fish. The water can be a scary place to someone who can’t breathe under it.”

  Gryke narrowed his eyes. “You do not appear afraid to me.”

  “Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Grow a brain.”

  Oz blew out a theatrical sigh. “Are you two going to stand there and argue all night? I could use a hand, if you don’t mind.”

  Fiona nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

  Maria listened as Oz barked out orders to Fiona and Gryke, who both scrambled to do his bidding.

  “Damn it,” Oz bit out, retrieving the band from his wrist and securing his hair into a ponytail.

  Maria’s stomach clenched in dread. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure we’re going to have enough fuel to make it all the way in.”

  Nausea reared its ugly head once again. Maria swallowed back bile. “How much do we have?”

  “It’s hard to say,” Oz admitted, flipping a switch on the control panel. “The yacht has two tanks. Though we made it to Florida on a little less than a full tank, going back is taking longer. Which means we’re burning more fuel.”

  The yacht suddenly reared up with an oncoming wave before tilting forward on the ride back down.

  Maria gripped the arms of her chair hard enough she was sure her nails penetrated the vinyl.

  Lightning cracked, illuminating the swell of another massive wave.

  Tears sprang to Maria’s eyes. As much as she despised showing fear in front of others, she was powerless against the terror that had her in its grip.

  “Hold on!” Oz shouted, fighting to bring the boat through the oncoming wall of water.

  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Maria braced herself for impact. Cold salt water sprayed across her face, wetting her clothes and taking her breath.

  This is it, she thought, unable to block out the thunderous sounds swirling around her. She was going to die in the Gulf of Mexico, and her remains would be eaten by sharks.

  Maria wasn’t sure how long she sat there, holding on to that chair for dear life before Oz touched her on the arm. “The worst of it is over. You can breathe now.”

  Taking a shaky breath, Maria opened her eyes and stared up at Oz in dazed confusion. It took her a second to find her voice. “We made it through?”

  Oz nodded. “It’s not completely over, but the roughest part is. You’re white as a sheet. Maybe you should go lie down for a bit.”

  Rising on shaky legs, Maria silently thanked him with her eyes and moved toward the door.

  “I’ll give you some time to rest,” Oz told her as she reached the steps. “And then we need to talk.”

  Maria simply nodded, practically stumbling down the steps to the deck.

  She kept a hand on the wall to keep from losing her footing as the yacht continued to rock with the waves.

  Stopping at Oz’s door, Maria hesitated before drifting off to her own room. Oz hadn’t restrained her again, which meant there was a good chance he would let her go.

  She entered her room and shut the door before falling facedown onto the bed, the only position she didn’t feel sick in.

  What now? she wondered, sucking in great gulps of air to fight the remaining nausea. They were en route to Cuba, which meant that Maria would have no choice but to face her brother.

  She had no doubt that Carlito would kill her once he found out that she’d tried to prevent that bomb from going off on Oz’s yacht. And he would find out. Not all of his men had been cap
tured or killed.

  Hell, he probably already knew, Maria silently admitted to herself. Of that, she was fairly certain.

  Maybe Oz would change his mind about using her as bait to draw out Carlito? He seemed like a man she could reason with.

  She thought of the tender way he’d kissed her before the storm. The soft slide of his lips on hers. The gentle pressure of his erection, pressing against the juncture of her thighs.

  Maria stilled, allowing the memory to replay in her mind. If she were being honest with herself, she would admit to enjoying the feel of Oz’s body before she’d come awake and pushed him away.

  His scent had drifted up her nose, bringing to life a desire that had stunned her.

  What kind of person was she to feel attraction for her captor, the man responsible for her father’s death? The very same man who now intended to use her in his ruse to destroy her brother?

  The yacht tilted again.

  Maria rolled to her side, grabbed the small garbage can next to her bed, and gagged. With nothing in her stomach to rid herself of, she continued to heave with every wave that rolled beneath her.

  Chapter Nine

  Oz gripped the wheel and guided the yacht over the incoming swell. The past three hours had been harrowing to say the least.

  He glanced down at the fuel gage with a frown. It didn’t look promising. They might have to take the dinghy part of the way in with the way things were looking.

  Maria wasn’t going to like hearing that, he knew. She’d been petrified during the storm.

  The trill of the satellite phone echoed from its compartment in the console. Oz fished it out, taking note of the unknown caller status on the display.

  Who would be calling him on his satellite phone? Very few people had that number.

  He pressed the green button and brought the phone to his ear. “This is Oz.”

  “Oz? It’s Melvin. I see you survived the storm.”

  “By the skin of my teeth,” Oz murmured. “How did you get this number?”

  Melvin chuckled. “I had possession of the yacht for several hours last week. Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t snoop.”

  Oz grinned and dropped onto the stool. “We’re running low on fuel. Might have to row the last fifty miles or so.”

  “Give me your coordinates,” Melvin suggested, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Relieved and more than a little grateful, Oz rattled off his coordinates.

  Melvin grunted. “Drop anchor as soon as it’s safe to do so. I’ll be there in about four hours.”

  “Gracious, amigo.”

  Oz pressed the end call button and replaced the phone to its designated compartment. Help was coming and bringing fuel. Which meant that Maria wouldn’t be forced to ride in the dinghy, probably heaving the rest of the way home.

  Needing to check on her, Oz called for Gryke.

  The psychotic Bracadyte barreled into the wheelhouse with a scowl on his face. “Human females have no sense in their heads.”

  Oz fought a laugh. Gryke and Fiona had been at odds ever since she’d arrived in Cuba with Klause.

  “It doesn’t get any easier,” Oz informed him, getting to his feet. “You just have to learn how to communicate with them. Speak their language, if you will.”

  Gryke’s gaze turned even darker, if that were possible. “I do not wish to speak anything to her. She is annoying and thinks she knows everything.”

  Oz’s lips twitched. “You just described half of my exes.”

  At Gryke’s blank look, Oz moved toward the door. “Will you hold us steady for a bit? I need to check on Maria. She’s not taking the storm very well.”

  “Why do you care?” Gryke challenged, taking control of the wheel.

  Oz stopped at the steps. Why did he care? He wasn’t sure, but he’d think about that later after they were safely on the shores of Playa Pilar.

  Looking over his shoulder, Oz shrugged. “It’s my job to take care of all the passengers on board. Maria included.”

  Striding down the hall, Oz opened his door to find his room empty. His stomach clenched in dread. Had she jumped overboard to escape him? She didn’t seem like the kind to take her own life. Then again, what did he really know about her, other than she was the sister of his enemy?

  He quickly checked the bathroom before making his way down to the room he’d originally stowed her in.

  The sound of water running caught his attention, and some of the tension left his shoulders.

  He eased into the room, coming to a stop outside the closed bathroom door.

  Oz stopped breathing as the door suddenly opened.

  Maria stood in front of him, wearing nothing but her borrowed shorts and a shocked look on her face.

  A small gasp escaped her, and her arms crossed immediately over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Oz swallowed hard, his gaze traveling down her body, coming to rest on her toned stomach.

  The shorts she wore rode low on her hips, accenting her curvy figure.

  He cleared his throat, attempting to take his mind off his rapidly growing erection. “I was just checking on you. Why are you not in my room?”

  Her chin lifted in defiance. “So you can tie me to your bed again?”

  Anger quickly replaced his lust. “If that’s what I see fit to do. I’m sorry. I don’t trust you. Now, get moving.”

  If looks could kill, Oz would be lying on the floor without a pulse.

  “I need a shirt,” she bit out, tightening her arms across her chest. “I got sick on the other one.”

  Oz softened his gaze. “I’m sorry about the nausea. Come on, let’s get you a clean shirt and some food in your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything but half a sandwich since we boarded.”

  Waving a hand toward the door, Oz waited on Maria to pass before falling in step behind her.

  His gaze landed on her ass, sending his already throbbing erection into a state of torment.

  Oz could no longer deny that he wanted her. Wanted her in a way that he couldn’t remember wanting another.

  Maybe housing her in his room wasn’t such a good idea after all, he silently wondered, following her into his room. The next several hours would no doubt be torturous for him.

  He grabbed a shirt from one of his drawers and tossed it to her. “Put this on.”

  She caught the garment with her fingers without exposing her breasts, spun around, and pulled the shirt over her head before facing him once again. “Now what?”

  Oz couldn’t bring himself to restrain her. She had no weapons. What kind of damage could she truly do?

  “Stay in here. I’m going to grab us something to eat. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Maria nodded and sat heavily on the side of the bed.

  Spinning on his heels, Oz returned to the hall and locked the door behind him. He knew she hated being locked up, but it was better than the alternative.

  He hurried to the kitchen and threw together a few ham sandwiches, grabbed a couple of bottled waters, and a bag of chips.

  Maria was sitting in the same position when he returned with the tray of food.

  “It’s not much, but it’ll make you feel better,” Oz murmured, stepping inside and kicking the door closed with his foot.

  He set the tray on the nightstand. “Help yourself.”

  Maria ate with gusto, never looking up from her attack on the sandwich she held.

  Taking a long pull from her water bottle, she broke the silence. “What are you going to do when Carlito doesn’t come running for me like you seem to think he will?”

  “He’ll come for you,” Oz assured her, taking a drink of his own water.

  Maria laughed without humor. “You really should have done some investigating before picking your hostage. Carlito despises my very presence on this earth. He’s probably glad to be rid of me.”

  Oz studied Maria’s face for several heartbeats, searching her eyes for the truth. “Why does he hate you
so much?”

  Maria shrugged. “I believe it stems from his mother. She’s resented me since the day I was born.”

  “And your mom? Where is she now?”

  “She lives in Mexico with my stepdad. I haven’t seen her in years.”

  Oz leaned back in the chair he’d been sitting in. “You’re estranged from your mother?”

  “It was the only way to keep her off Carlito’s radar.”

  Oz asked the question that had been bothering him for a week. “If your brother despises you so much, why were you helping him in Playa Pilar?”

  “I wasn’t helping him,” Maria ground out. “He sent me there with some of his men because he knew my need for revenge was as great as his own.”

  “Your revenge against me.” It wasn’t a question.

  Maria nodded. “No matter how I feel about my brother, I loved my father. At least the memory of him.”

  Oz understood the love she spoke of. He loved his mother to this day, and she’d been dead for years.

  He glanced down at the barely visible markings on her wrists. “How did you get the scars?”

  Pulling her hands back, Maria rested them on the bed beside her as if to hide them from his view. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Tell me,” Oz demanded in a soft tone.

  Chapter Ten

  Maria took a shaky breath, staring at something unseen over Oz’s shoulder. “When I was fifteen, Carlito took me to a party with some of his college friends.”

  “Go on,” Oz coaxed when she hesitated.

  With a jerky nod, Maria let her mind drift back in time. To the night of the party. The night her life changed forever. “Carlito’s best friend, Homero, took an interest in me.”

  She glanced at Oz’s face before returning her gaze to that place over his shoulder. “Me, being fifteen and catching the interest of a college guy, naturally, I was flattered. Homero asked if I wanted a tour of the house. He took me from room to room before entering the basement where he gagged me and bound my wrists above my head to a water pipe.”

  Oz stilled, his gaze becoming hooded. “Did he…?”