by Cara Bristol
Tightening my grip on the stupid shoes, I peeked at Evelyn’s face.
She shook her head. “Apparently he’s not as smitten with Honey Azúcar as you’d thought. He’s going to be a hard one to match.” She shrugged. “Well, keep trying. Do the best you can. We can’t expect them all to go well or easy.”
Oh. My. God. She didn’t realize Caid and I were a couple! My job remained safe.
But Caid was devastated. I wouldn’t be able to talk to him face-to-face until this evening when I got off work. He’d spend all day thinking I had rejected him.
“I have to stop him.” I flung the stupid shoes across the room and bolted into the corridor. “Caid!” He was about to enter the stairwell at the end of the hall. I ran. “Caid! Wait!”
“I do not wish to talk to you right now,” he said over his shoulder, and then pushed open the door.
“Don’t go! Please.” I caught up with him. “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.” I grabbed his arm, afraid he would still leave. I couldn’t let him go like this. “Come back to the office with me. Give me a chance to explain. It’s not what you think.”
His eyes flashed. “Why should I give you any more chances, Jessie? From the very beginning, you rebuffed every overture. I assumed we were good. You had agreed to be my mate. Now this?” He glanced at my hand on his arm as if he was about to shake me off.
I tightened my grip, prepared to hang on. “Come with me, please. Once you understand, it will make a difference. Please…” I looked up at him. Words wouldn’t satisfy him; I had to show him how I felt, prove it to him. I had a lot to atone for.
He tightened his lips, but nodded.
I slipped my arm through the crook of his elbow, and we walked back to my waiting room. He remained tense and stiff, but I did not release him as we entered.
The director’s gaze zoomed in on our linked arms.
“Caid, you remember Evie from the mixer,” I said, “but I’d like to introduce you to Evelyn Fidalgo, my boss here at the Intergalactic Dating Agency.”
His eyes widened, and his mouth formed an O.
He got it.
I slid my grip downward and clasped his hand. I had a man who loved me and would do anything for me. To renounce him for any reason, even a pretense, demeaned him and our bond. Maybe breaking IDA rules was wrong, but love was pure, and I needed to ensure Evelyn understood with crystal clarity. I took a deep breath and braced for my job, my life for five plus years, to circle the drain. Caid was my life now. I’d sublimated my own desires to make other women happy. Now it was my turn. And I owed it to Caid. “Evelyn, I am Hon—”
“You don’t need to do this,” Caid said.
I squeezed his hand. I did need to. Because I loved him, and I loathed causing him pain. He meant more to me than anything. Screw my job. I could get another one. I’d never find a man who loved me as much as he did.
“I am Honey Azúcar. I established an account, took the assessment test, and the computer matched Caid and me.”
She reared back her head. “You and Caid have been dating?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t hesitate a nanosecond. “You’re fired.” Her face suffused with color. “You violated agency policy by hooking up with a client, you attempted to cover it up, you wrongfully opened a dating account, and you violated my trust by lying to my face.”
I nodded. “I understand.” This had been my fear all along, but now, facing the consequences, I regretted none of my actions. I’d do the same thing again. Love was worth it. Caid was worth it. “I’ll clean out my desk.”
“Don’t bother,” she said. “Security will forward your stuff. I’m ordering you to leave immediately.”
“All right. But I’m taking my flowers.” I released Caid’s hand to step into my closet-sized office. I grabbed the card from beneath the coffee cup, grabbed my purse from the drawer, and picked up the roses.
“You can’t fire her,” Caid said. “If you fire her, you need to fire yourself.”
“I beg your pardon?” Evelyn snapped.
“Aren’t you employed by the Intergalactic Dating Agency?”
“I’m the director of match coordination services.”
“Aren’t you subject to the same rules as the other employees?”
“Of course, I am.”
“Don’t the rules prohibit fraternization with clients?”
“Where are you going with this? I’ve never dated a client.”
“But you tried to. You approached me at the mixer with your phone number and invited me to call you. You’re as guilty of fraternization as anybody,” he said. “You knew I was a client.”
Her face got redder. “That’s—that’s—”
“True!” I entered the waiting room. “Caid is right. What about that?” I demanded. I had nothing to lose by confronting her. She’d already terminated me. As of thirty seconds ago, I didn’t work here.
“I’ll bet you have a boss who’d be interested in hearing about what happened at the mixer.” Caid folded his arms.
Caid was blackmailing her! That was my guy! I bent my head to sniff the roses in my arms to cover my grin. My hero. The vice president of client operations would be very interested in Evelyn’s actions. She would get canned. She and I could file for unemployment benefits together.
The director lifted her chin. “Maybe we don’t need to tell her about that.”
“And maybe Jessie gets to keep her job,” Caid said. “Maybe none of this will be mentioned ever again.”
Her expression shuttered, she flicked a glance at me. “Fine.” Posture stiff, she exited my office.
I set the flowers and my purse on a chair. “You’re amazing!” I flung my arms around him. “I should have had you negotiate for more vacation time for me!” I giggled.
“I understand why you acted the way you did,” he said, and hugged me back.
“I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not.” I sought his gaze. “I’m glad I got to keep my job, but I’d give it up in an instant for you. I want you to know. You’re my mate!” I thumped his chest for emphasis.
“And don’t you forget it, sweet cheeks!” He swatted my butt.
Epilogue
Caid
Two months later
I tromped up the stairs, nudged my hut door open with my foot, and my horns perked up and began to throb at the sight of Jessie’s bountiful, saucy backside as she bent over a box. Silently, I set the carton I carried on a stack, crept behind her, and grabbed a handful. “Guess who?”
She squealed and whirled around. “Caid! You scared me!” she admonished with a stern tone, but there was no heat in her gaze—well, not the kind originating from anger. Arousal sizzled in her eyes, and a seductive smile played on her lips as she planted her palms on my chest and looked up at me. “What are you doing?”
“Surrendering to the temptation you so thoughtfully displayed in front of me,” I teased, but it was true. Having her in the same room with me tempted me to distraction. I loved how I could touch her anytime I cared to, and I did so frequently. It didn’t always lead to relations, but we spent a lot of time in bed.
“I wasn’t enticing you—I was trying to unpack.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I had no idea I had so much stuff.”
“I did.” I’d been the one who’d loaded and unloaded the relocation vehicle. Earth people had a lot of possessions, and my mate was no exception. I peered over her shoulder at the box she’d been unpacking. “Why are you saving dead plants?” I asked.
“Those are dried flowers. The roses and hydrangeas from the first bouquets you sent me.”
“You don’t need to save the old ones. I’ll get you some new ones.”
She balanced on tiptoe and kissed me. “That’s sweet, but I’ll still save the old ones.”
I shook my head. Sometimes her behavior baffled me, b
ut now that we would be living together all the time, every day, perhaps I would come to understand some of these mysteries.
“Are there many more boxes left?” she asked.
“No, the one I brought up was the last one.” I glanced around. “Where are we going to put all this stuff?”
“If it fit in my tiny one-bedroom apartment, it will fit in your—our— five-bedroom townhome. I still don’t know why you bought a place with five bedrooms.”
I shrugged. “I assumed all Terran huts came with many rooms.” I’d bought the hut with her in mind. I’d provided the house, but she’d transformed it into a home.
“You’re cute,” she said.
“You’re beautiful.” I kissed her. “And you’re mine—wife.” While the Terran word for mate still sounded odd to my ears, the bond between us felt so natural and right, it seemed as if we’d been together forever. And, since we’d gotten married by a justice of the peace last week, our mating was now officially sanctioned on Earth.
She caressed my horns, and a growl erupted from my throat. “Keep doing that, and you won’t get these cartons unpacked.”
She continued to fondle my head. “Who says I want to unpack?” She smiled.
There were a lot of Terran customs, words, and nuances I still had to learn, but I recognized that look. Obah!
I dipped, hooked an arm behind her knees and shoulders, and scooped her up. She squealed. “Put me down. What are you doing?” She wiggled her feet.
“Making sure you don’t trip over these cartons, doll.”
She giggled and hugged my neck. She always laughed when I used one of the endearments from the study guide, and I loved the sound of her amusement and happiness, so I tried to remember to use them. I wended my way through the stacks then strode down the hall to our sleeping chamber and deposited her on the bed.
I flung off my clothes with haste, while she undressed slowly as if to tease me. Naked, I bounced onto the bed beside her.
“Wife.” I kissed her. “Mate.” I pulled her close, and whispered in her ear, “My boo.”
She slid her hand over my body and downward to fondle me. “Rocket man,” she said with a giggle. She had her own list of endearments reserved for me.
Our lips met, and passion took the place of words, and our bodies did the communicating. Afterward, desire spent, we held each other but continued to fondle with gentle strokes and soft kisses.
“So, tell me again what a honeymoon is?” I said. Jessie had taken a month’s leave from work so we could get married, move her possessions to my hut and get her settled in, and then go on a honeymoon. We would be leaving next week.
“It’s a vacation for newly married, mated couples to be alone together.”
“And we’re going to Norway?”
“Yes. I’ve booked us a suite at an ice hotel. Every year they build a complete inn out of ice and snow. When the summer comes, it melts then they build it again when it gets cold in the fall. They’re right in the middle of the season now.”
It sounded blissful. I did miss cold and snow. The climate in New Los Angeles was warm, sometimes too hot, even during the winter season. It came as a pleasant relief to discover cold places did exist on the planet.
Jessie caressed my chest. “A honeymoon also sets time aside to have sex.”
We engaged in relations all the time anyway, but if Earth customs deemed it necessary to set aside a special time for it, well, I could adapt.
What could be better than hot sex in a cold place?
Except maybe sex right now. I waggled my eyebrows at my mate.
“Again?” Her lips curved with a seductive smile.
“Always,” I said.
* * * *
Thank you for reading Caid: Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides. Did you catch the first two books of the series, Darak and Aton? Both are available from your favorite online bookseller. The Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides series is based on my Alien Mate books. In the Dakonian series, the aliens come to Earth. In the Alien Mate series, human women go to planet Dakon to meet their alien hunks. Read on for an excerpt from the first book in the series, Alien Mate.
Alien Mate (Alien Mate 1)
Chapter One
Starr
Truth would prevail. It had to. It had to. It had to.
The space over the empty juror box shimmered, and then a real-time hologram of the jurors materialized. I kept my face expressionless as advised by counsel and clenched my hands in my lap. The jurors avoided my eyes, and hope drained out, leaving me sick inside. My attorney, Maridelle, covered my hand and squeezed.
“Have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
“We have, your honor,” the foreman replied.
“What say you?”
“We, the members of the jury, find the defendant, Starr Elizabeth Conner, guilty of second-degree murder.”
My heart seized in my chest. I wasn’t aware of leaping to my feet, but Maridelle caught my arm. “I didn’t do it! I’m innocent,” I cried. My gaze shot to the prosecution table where People’s Attorney Gil Aaronson, a crony of the Carmichael family—although I couldn’t prove it—stowed his CompuBrief in its case. He didn’t look at me, either, but a smug smile rested on his face.
Electrocuffs in hand, a bailiff headed toward me.
“We’ll appeal, don’t worry. We’ll get the verdict overturned,” Maridelle whispered in my ear as the bailiff fastened the restraints. She’d believed me, but no one else had—how could that bode well for the future? If she hadn’t been able to convince my peers of my innocence the first time around, what chance would she have on appeal? The Carmichaels controlled too much. They didn’t hold political office themselves. They owned the people who did.
“Sentencing is set for one week.” The judge cracked his gavel, and his holographic image wavered and then vaporized. A very solid bailiff hustled me to my cell.
* * * *
A statuesque woman plopped down next to me in the lounge. Her skin reminded me of rich, creamy milk chocolate, the kind only the wealthy could afford. Everyone else bought the synth stuff and pretended it was good. “I’m Andrea Simmons,” she said. “Cyber hacking.” We introduced ourselves on the SS Australia by name and crime.
“Starr Conner…second-degree murder.” Maridelle had cautioned not to discuss my case pending the appeal. Big ships have big ears and all that. So, I’d tried to avoid my fellow passengers, keeping to my cabin, venturing to the mess hall when it would be deserted. Eventually, loneliness—or maybe acceptance of my fate—nudged me out of isolation. My conviction had less chance of reversal than I’d had for acquittal the first time around. My presence on the ship demonstrated how well the trial had gone.
Just in case the appeal was successful, I shifted the conversation back to Andrea. “You were convicted of hacking?”
“Yes. Cyber robbery, actually. I was the best in the New Americas!” Her boast confirmed her guilt. She sighed. “I hear Dakon is quite primitive. No computer technology to speak of.”
“How did you get caught?”
“Greed. I returned to a site I’d previously hacked, and they’d installed a viral tracker. Busted!” Her eyes narrowed. “Who’d you kill?”
“Nobody. I’m innocent.” I’d continue to state that until the end of my days.
She barked out a husky laugh. “We all are. Haven’t you heard? There are no guilty people on the SS Australia.”
“She killed Jaxon Carmichael.” A brunette with a head of bouncy curls piped up with the identity of the “victim” I’d been convicted of bludgeoning to death.
Andrea whistled and eyed me with new respect. “Honey, you roll with the big boys, don’t you?”
The brunette shook her head. “How could you not recognize her from the pay-for-view gov-vids of her trial on the ’net? She’s a celebrity.”
Andrea sniffed. “As a general rule, I avoid the government sites.”
“Too ri
sky?” I asked.
“No money there. Terra One World is damn near bankrupt. Why do you think we’re on this ship? First, they save money by not having to house us in prison, and second, they make money from the illuvian minerals the Dakonians are paying for us. It’s a double dip.”
“They sold us into slavery.” I stared at my hands. Carmichael “justice” had been swift. While others languished in prison for years awaiting a court date, I’d been tried, convicted, and sentenced in a mere two months. Rocket fast—a contrast to the appeals process which would be evolutionary slow. Sitting in prison waiting for an uncertain outcome didn’t appeal, but was this better?
“More like presented us with an offer we couldn’t refuse.” Andrea shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“We could have finished our sentences. Instead we opted for immediate freedom via one-way shuttle to Dakon.”
“You had a choice?” I glanced between Andrea and the other woman.
“The application form spelled it out.” The brunette nodded. “The selection process was very competitive. Ninety percent of the women who applied didn’t get accepted.”
“Application form? I didn’t fill out any application form.”
Andrea’s gaze narrowed. “You didn’t complete a profile? Health history, activity levels, physical description…”
“No.” I pressed my lips together. Carmichael justice again, which was to say, no justice. They were sending me as far away as they could get me.
“That’s odd.” Andrea squinted.
Maybe becoming an alien’s companion wasn’t such a terrible fate. We could be friends with very limited benefits. Billions of miles between me and the Carmichaels couldn’t hurt, and it beat spending my life in prison. If the Carmichaels could have me wrongfully convicted, they could block my appeal.
But how would I keep track of the status? Since the planet wasn’t connected to the ’net, how would Maridelle update me?