Why was his mysterious client so eager to get their hands on that particular house? It made her suspicious, especially when he wouldn’t let her meet the client. Or tell her anything about them.
“I’ve asked the Clacka brothers if they would like to sell. They’re happy where they are.”
His face grew dark and her heart started to race. For the first time, she actually felt afraid of him. “Then perhaps you need to ensure that they become unhappy living there.”
What? What the hell did that mean?
“What do you mean? What do you want me to do?”
He held up his hands. “That’s up to you, sweetheart,” he said condescendingly. Asshole. “All I am saying is that unless you start bringing in a lot more revenue or get the owners of the house on Elm to sell, then you leave me with no other choice but to let you go.” He ran his gaze over her body and she had to hold back a shudder of revulsion. “Of course, there might be one other arrangement we could come to.”
Yeah, she could guess his meaning. And hell would freeze over before she’d agree to sleep with him. She stood abruptly, causing him to shy back. She had to duck her head to hide a smile. Maybe that was a little immature, but he was an asshole.
“I’ll go talk to the Clacka brothers again, see if I can get them to sell.”
His face tightened and for a moment she thought he was going to snap. She took a few steps back. But he stood and straightened his sleeves. “Good,” he said coldly. “Time is of the essence. My client won’t wait forever. Oh, and Crista?”
She turned back from the door. She wasn’t spending any more time than was necessary in his office.
“Put some more make-up on. The last thing I need is for our clients to think you’re in some sort of domestic abuse situation.”
The asshole hadn’t once asked her if she was all right or if she needed more time off.
“And maybe you should ask Esme for some tips. She always leaves her clients satisfied.” He gave her a slimy grin. Yeah, she got his meaning loud and clear. She was supposed to do whatever it took to get the Clacka brothers to sell. Including handing out blow jobs. Wasn’t going to happen.
“I mean, some men go for the uptight librarian look, but you need to vary it a bit.”
She stepped out of the office, barely resisting the urge to slam the door.
Uptight librarian look? Was he for real?
“Everything all right, dear?” Alice asked, looking up from her computer.
“Just wondering if I could plead temporary insanity for a reduced sentence.”
Alice nodded and turned back to her computer. “We all have those thoughts, dear. I always figure you’d be better off to hire an assassin and get yourself an airtight alibi.”
Yeah, well, unfortunately she was broke. And squeamish when it came to blood. So she guessed she’d just have to hope like hell she could convince the Clacka brothers to sell.
4
What was she doing here?
Nax scowled down at the small female who stood on their doorstep. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back in a tight coil. She was wearing a white shirt with long sleeves that was tucked into a pair of dark pants. Sweat glistened on her forehead and she looked flushed. Well, what did she expect? They were experiencing a heat wave and she was covered from head to toes.
“What do you want?”
She smiled up at him, and even he could tell it was forced. “Hello, Mr. Clacka, how are you?”
He didn’t understand why humans were always saying that to each other, especially when most of the time they weren’t even interested in the answer.
“I’m hot, irritated, and hungry. And I want to get back to the task I was doing before I was interrupted.”
She blinked, staring up at him for a few seconds as though she hadn’t understood his words. Then that flush on her cheeks deepened. “Right, um, sorry for interrupting you.”
He grunted.
She licked her lips. “Are any of your brothers’ home?”
What did she want with his packmates? He was surprised by the surge of jealousy. He pushed it down, now irritated with himself as well as her.
“No.”
“Oh, right.” She looked around his shoulder as though she thought he was lying. “When will they be home?”
“Why?”
“Um, well, I have an improved offer on your house to present to you all.”
“What offer? Our house is not for sale.” He’d thought they had made it clear to her that they did not wish to sell.
“Yes, I know. But our client is prepared to pay a premium price.”
“No.” He stepped back and closed the door. He shook his head as he walked through the house. He needed to get the air conditioner working again before the others got home. He could not stand to listen to their complaints about how hot it was any more.
The doorbell rang again and he sighed. What now? How was he supposed to get anything done if people kept interrupting him?
He stormed back to the door and opened it. “What?”
The female still stood there, looking worried. As soon as she saw him, though, she smiled. He’d thought he had made himself clear before. He didn’t know how he could say no any more clearly.
“Mr. Clacka, if I could just have a moment of your time to present the offer, I’m certain you would see what a good deal it is.”
“I do not care. We are not moving.”
“But surely you need to speak to your brothers? Don’t you all own this house? Perhaps they would like to move?”
He frowned. Would they? Nax wasn’t fond of change. He didn’t want to find another house. But after that attempt at a break-in a few days ago, could moving be a good idea? Except he had already set up the security system in this house. Not to mention he had everything in the garage set up the way he liked it. And they’d made several improvements, including fixing the roof and laying a concrete floor in the basement.
No, moving was not a possibility.
“No.”
“Weren’t you having problems with the neighbor?” she said almost desperately. “I could find you a house with better neighbors.”
Hm, the old bat was annoying. She was overly fond of calling the authorities and the sirens they used were loud and irritating.
He sighed. “Fine. Come in. You can wait.”
“Oh, right.” She looked a bit unsure. “Or perhaps you could just tell me when a better time to visit would be and I can come back then?”
A better time? What the stars did that mean? “I do not know when a better time is. Come.”
She stepped inside and waved her hand in front of her face. “It’s quite hot in here, isn’t it?”
“Air conditioner is not working.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose it’s hard to get a technician out at the moment.”
“Technician?”
“To fix the air conditioner. The older lady who lived here didn’t do much maintenance, I’m afraid.”
Sweat dripped down her face and she wiped it away, wincing slightly. When she lowered her arm, he noticed that she had smeared some of that gunk off her face that females were so fond of wearing, revealing a bruised cheekbone.
“Who hit you?”
Crista took a step back from the clearly furious man.
That bored, impatient expression on his face had disappeared and in its place was pure rage.
“What?” She took a deep breath, trying to remind herself that he wasn’t angry at her. But it was hard to remain composed and brave in the face of such naked fury. Especially when he was so much larger than her. “Nobody hit me.”
His gaze narrowed and he took a step back, holding his hands out at his side in a move reminiscent of Pop’s grandson, Marc the other night. As though trying to make himself appear harmless.
Too bad it didn’t work.
“You do not have anything to fear from me, female.”
No? She wasn’t so certain about that. Although h
e’d never made a threatening move towards her, he looked angry enough to hurt someone right now. Her breath came in sharp pants, and she realized she was on the verge of a panic attack.
Calm it down, Crista, before you freak out.
“I need to go.” Stuff her job. Stuff Pete. And stuff Nax Clacka. She just wanted to go home, crawl into her bed that was really just a sofa and hide under the covers. Maybe in about, oh, ten years she’d be ready to face reality again.
Maybe.
“No.”
Panic washed over her in a sickening wave. The world around her started to fade, darkness crept in on her vision. She stumbled back until her back encountered the wall behind her. Her legs shook, her stomach bubbled. She couldn’t decide if she was going to vomit or pass out.
“Easy, female. Stars, why are you human females so emotional?”
Human females?
She didn’t have time to think about that as he moved towards her and her body finally decided which way it wanted to go.
Darkness slipped over her and she knew no more.
Nax stared down in panic at the female lying on the floor. What the stars just happened? Why had she panicked? He had only wished to know who had placed such hideous marks on her beautiful, pale skin.
Beautiful? Where had that thought come from?
He crouched over the female and placed his fingers over her pulse. Fast but steady. She was hot. No wonder, with all those clothes on. Ridiculous to wear so much when there was a heat wave. He undid a couple of buttons on her shirt then tugged at her sleeves, trying to pull them up. She whimpered and he studied her wrists, his fury growing as he saw the finger-shaped bruises on her left arm. Someone had grabbed her. Hard. Then hit her?
What sort of person would harm a female? Was that why she was wearing long sleeves in this heat? To hide the bruises? Were there bruises in places he could not see? Just the idea made him want to kill someone. He snarled and had to take a moment to calm himself as he felt the urge to change slip over him.
Deep breath in. Out.
His ability to keep this human form had improved greatly since they had been living here, but he found his control tested when he was stressed or angry. And right now, he was both. But it was imperative that he not change where someone might see him.
The last thing they needed was the human authorities realizing that aliens lived here. Most other races steered clear of Earth because humans had depleted their resources and ruined most of the natural habitat. It wouldn’t be much longer before the planet became uninhabitable. Hopefully by then, his packmates would have found their mates and they could leave this ridiculous planet.
He lifted her up, worried at how light she was. Did the female not eat? He carried her into the living area, where he had pulled the drapes to keep the sunlight out, and laid her down on the couch. Then he stood and stared down at her.
Why did she not wake? Should he call for help? Perhaps she had other injuries that he could not see? Maybe he should strip off her clothes and check. He sighed. For once he wished that Frankie or Eden were here.
He knelt on the floor and reached for her blouse.
* * *
She woke up feeling groggy and ill.
She glanced around in confusion. Her head throbbed as she moved, and her vision was slightly blurred. She lay still for a moment, willing the pain to subside. She wiped at her eyes to clear them.
Where was she?
She was lying on a couch in a darkened living room. But it wasn’t hers. Because her sofa, which doubled as her bed, had springs that poked into her back and smelt faintly of fried food and wet cat. She’d never been able to get rid of either smell. And she definitely didn’t have a beautiful plush rug on the floor or a huge ass TV mounted to the wall. Or a gorgeous, grumpy male frowning at her.
She gasped and sat up then grabbed at her head as her brain tried to shove its way out of her skull.
“That was stupid,” a deep voice told her disapprovingly.
“No? Really?” she replied sarcastically. Then she sighed. Calm down, Crista. It wasn’t his fault she had a killer headache.
Killer.
Hands on her, hurting her, his body pressed against her. She could do nothing to stop him from harming her. Oh crap, why did she think about that? A whimper escaped before she could pull it back. Shit.
Put it back in. Bury it with all the other nightmares. She had a veritable graveyard for bad shit in her brain.
“You fainted. You should not sit up so quickly.”
Okay, so he didn’t understand sarcasm. Probably a good thing seeing as she was meant to be charming him into selling his house.
Great going, Crista. Fainting at his feet was a surefire way to inspire confidence. Well, better than puking all over her shoes, she guessed.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Clacka—”
“Call me Nax.”
“What?” She looked up at him. Then groaned as the room spun. Seemed that puking her guts out was still an option.
He crouched next to her and gently pushed her head down between her knees. “Remain like that until you feel less dizzy. It is no wonder you fainted, you were too hot in all those clothes.” His hand was cool against her neck. Damn, that felt nice. Too nice.
“Thank you, I’m good now.”
He moved away his hand. She slowly straightened up. No dizziness. Good. She looked down at herself. No shirt. Not good. She stared at her lacy bra in confusion for a moment then drew herself back, away from him, her heart racing.
She ignored the pain in her head and his deepening scowl as she slid along the sofa, as far away from him as she could get without standing. Because she wasn’t certain that she could stand right now and the last thing she needed was to collapse at his feet. Then he might be forced to touch her again. As he obviously had been already. She swallowed back a surge of fear-induced nausea.
“Female, you need to remain still.”
“You took my shirt off,” she accused, folding her arms over her breasts. She checked. Yep, still wearing pants. Thank God for that. But that discovery only went a small way to making her feel better. She was all too aware that she was alone in a house with a large male, who, no matter how attractive, was essentially a stranger.
A weird, grumpy stranger.
“You were too hot. I was attempting to cool you down.”
“Uh-huh, seems a likely story.”
“It is not a story. It is the truth.” He gave her an exasperated look. Like she was the one being unreasonable and weird.
“You can’t just go around taking women’s clothes off!”
“I do not go around taking off women’s clothes. Why would I wish to do that?” He looked incredulous. “I only removed it because you were overheated. I also wished to see if you had more bruises.”
“Well, I don’t. And I feel fine now. So give me back my blouse.”
No way was she sitting here, half-naked, having this conversation with him.
“What do you call this?” He tugged her arm away to softly touched her breast above her bra. Her world shrank until the only thing in it was him. Touching her. She sucked in a breath. He pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell. She moved her arm back to cover herself again.
“It is over the back of the sofa.” He pointed behind her. She turned slowly, keeping one eye on him, not certain yet that he was really telling the truth. But sure enough, there was her blouse.
“Turn around,” she commanded. Yeah, it was kind of ridiculous when he’d been the one to undress her and had seen everything she had to offer. Which wasn’t much. Too bad she wasn’t wearing a Wonderbra so it at least seemed like she had some boobs.
Nax just stared at her. “Why?”
Why? Was he for real?
“Because I want to get dressed.”
“Why would I need to turn my back for you to get dressed?”
“Because I don’t want you to see me half-dressed!”
“I am looking at you right now and you ar
e half-dressed.”
“Yes, but I have my arms covering me and I have to move them to get the blouse which means you will see more of me.” This conversation was almost as ridiculous as the one she’d had with those idiot goons the other night.
A shiver ran through her. Don’t think about them. You won’t see them again. There is no point in worrying about them.
“Female? Female!”
She jumped as his voice grew sharp then winced as pain sliced through her eyeball and deep into her skull.
“I don’t suppose you have any pain killers?”
He sighed. A long, drawn-out, dramatic affair. Drama Queen, much?
“You are changing the topic.”
“No. My head really hurts. And while you’re getting me some pain killers, I’ll get dressed.”
“You do realize that I was the one who undressed you. Then inspected your body to make certain you did not have further injuries. I am not certain why you feel the need to get dressed again in privacy. There is no logic to it.”
Typical bloody male. Logic? Really? This had nothing to do with logic. “You do realize that it’s creepy and wrong to undress a woman while she’s unconscious.”
He threw his hands up into the air. “Females. You protest the strangest things.”
“You think I’m odd because I don’t like the fact that you undressed me while I was unconscious?” Was he for real?
“Do you faint often?”
“No. But if I do faint I want to wake up fully dressed. Call it a funny quirk of mine.” She took in a breath, let it out slowly. Patience. “Now, are you going to get those pain killers?”
He muttered something under his breath but turned away and left the room. She moved as quickly as she dared to get her shirt back on. It was damp with sweat and she grimaced as it settled against her skin. Maybe he had been truly worried about her health, but did he have to remove her shirt entirely? Couldn’t he have just undone the top two buttons?
Nax Page 4