Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster Page 2

  Isabella looked at Jessica with none of the fear she’d been carrying around inside her ever since the attack. She was a professional. She’d damn well act like one, not a scared little nincompoop. She would see this through, protect her client, and expose the truth.

  “Better?”

  “Much.” Jessica’s grin was infectious, and they turned together to resume their walk.

  The wig and glasses were probably overkill, but then, she’d been very careful in her career to use a false identity whenever she was working in order to protect herself and everyone around her. She’d never forget one particularly difficult assignment. The client had taken a liking to her and turned into a nightmare from Stalkerville. She shivered in the cool spring night, uncertain if the chills were from the frosty air, memories or just nerves. Isabella hadn’t thought about that stalker in years. Since then, she’d never gone on an assignment without knowing there was someone else close enough to help if things turned sour.

  Glancing from Jessica to the parking lot, the restaurant and back to Jessica again, she whispered, “Remember to stay close. The bar up front, maybe?”

  Jessica hissed back under her breath as she stepped in front of Isabella and grabbed the door, slipping into the restaurant ahead of her, “This isn’t my first time backing you up. We’ve gone over this a hundred times. What’s gotten into you?”

  Isabella paused outside. To onlookers she appeared to check her outfit and hair one last time. She needn’t have bothered. Even with the disguise, she couldn’t hide the flawless complexion and curvy figure that was a signature of every Serrano woman in her family. Under the auburn wig she had a wealth of ultra-thick, black hair carefully pinned out of the way. Red stiletto heels complemented her form-fitting, stretchy red dress with delicate crisscrossing straps all the way down her back and a plunging scoop neckline. Her breasts were large and firm, and she pulled off the look with ease. The perfect dress for a blind date or a prearranged meeting with a black market buyer. The dress was a deliberate distraction. The more her buyer was looking at her body, the less he would be looking for a product she didn’t have.

  Yet. Didn’t have yet.

  Her first glimpse of tonight’s “date/buyer” stopped her in her tracks. Surprised was an understatement. He was the biggest Caldorian she’d ever seen. A Caldorian. Shit. What was a Caldorian doing in the black market?

  He was huge. Masculine. Primal. Dangerous. She shivered, this time in reaction to the alpha vibes he was putting out. Her nipples hardened beneath the red dress. He was a tall drink of Caldorian YUM. Damn. No one had a right to be that hot.

  Not that they weren’t all totally gorgeous, but this guy, code name John Doe, was next level on the heat gauge. No woman on Earth could possibly be immune to what he had to offer. She licked suddenly dry lips as she flushed with heat. No woman except me. I will not be caught in his trap. I’m not here because he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and he makes me want to throw my panties at him. No. I. Am. Not. This is NOT a real blind date, and I will keep my priorities straight!

  Just then Jessica whispered urgently, “I can see you from the bar, my friend, and I recognize that look. I saw him on my way over, and he’s next-level hot. Don’t you dare fall for this guy. I mean it, Isabella; he’s everything you put on the list last year after dating Allen. Times ten! Check out his shoes—they’re totally designer and über expensive. Remember the list! Remember why we’re here! He is a bad guy, remember? He’ll be worse than Allen. An alien narcissist with a lot of bad guys for backup and a lot of money. No touching. End of story!”

  Isabella gave a subtle nod to let Jessica know she’d heard and understood. And how could she forget about the list? She’d been the one to make it, after all. She’d even titled it “How to Spot a Douchebag.” Her ex, Allen Dumont, had been her inspiration. Tall, lean, and good-looking, he’d pulled her right in. She’d fallen hard. Too late she’d realized that behind the good looks and fancy clothes, nice cars and endless gifts, he’d really only been into one thing: Allen Dumont. His second love was Allen Dumont’s career, then Allen Dumont’s toys. He hadn’t been in love with her; he’d wanted another trophy for the Allen Dumont showcase.

  As the hostess escorted Isabella to John Doe’s table in the back of the bar, she mentally girded herself. Be flirtatious. Be subtle. Draw him in. Ask about his work; he’ll think you’re interested. It doesn’t matter if you like him or not. Jessica’s right. Stay focused on the job. Make it look enough like a real date that no one around us gets suspicious. Make the exchange.

  Chapter Two

  Falden refused to acknowledge any hint of admiration for Isabella Serrano’s bravery as she was escorted to his table. She was fully in disguise, complete with red hair and glasses. Her cheeks flushed as he watched her walk, his eyes feasting on the beckoning sway of her hips.

  He already knew she wasn’t aware of her client’s appearance, which was why she’d arranged to meet at this particular table, at this particular time. He—or the person she thought she was meeting, anyway—was supposed to be carrying a single orchid as part of the identification process. Before her look could turn from surprise to suspicion, he lifted the flower from the table, identifying himself as the man she was supposed to meet.

  “John?” she asked, only her sultry eyes registering surprise.

  Standing, he accepted the hand she extended in the human greeting ritual. He nearly groaned as an unexpected desire slammed into him. This woman, this human called to him. Only his mission kept him from acting on the sudden, deep need to claim her. To make her his. Only duty and two thousand years of strict secrecy kept him from revealing how much she affected him. He could not give in to his baser instincts. He wanted her. Needed to bury himself inside her. He stared, tried not to blink, tried to ensure none of his inner thoughts showed on his face. None of his yearning. And yet, he didn’t want to lie to this beautiful woman about his name, so he said instead, “You may call me John for now.”

  Isabella looked up. And up. Even for a Caldorian he was huge. Her heart slammed against her chest. He was a Caldorian, wasn’t he? Late twenties, possibly a little older, with short dark hair and icy blue eyes. The man standing—no, towering—above her was every woman’s fantasy come true. He was muscular, with huge shoulders and a trim waist. She’d bet money he had six-pack abs to die for. Her eyes roamed upward until she met his intense blue gaze. For a split second she forgot why she was there. Forgot about the black market and her missing client. Forgot to breathe. She couldn’t look away. Finally, after an uncomfortably long silence, she remembered her voice. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ella Jones.”

  He nodded politely as the female lied to him and supplied her false name, because that’s the game they were playing. He held out the chair next to him so she could sit. Keeping his gaze off the killer curves beneath the tight red dress was another matter. She was beautiful, he’d known that from the few photographs his team had hurriedly put together, but he hadn’t expected this kind of primal reaction.

  Her scent surrounded him like a heady ambrosia, making it difficult to focus, to think. His body refused to heed his demand for a relaxed, uninterested pose. Every muscle tensed with interest in the female placing herself in his care. She was under his protection from now until the moment they would part ways later that evening. The thought should have bothered him. Annoyed him. He did not need this kind of responsibility or distraction, not with the Vilitos so blatantly hunting what was left of his people. Or the A’Nua Na-KI and their servants, the Dark Ones. Or the Intergalactic Council and their allowing the Darkoor to retain their seat on the council. He could never forget about them. But logic was outvoted by the rising need filling his cock to near bursting and the burning in his veins, threatening his iron control. He widened his stance, hoping to relieve the sudden ache. This woman was dangerous.

  He needed Isabella Serrano in his bed. Needed to mark her. Plant his seed deep inside her. The urge was powerful. All-consuming. Addictive.
He wanted to plunge his shaft into her body and feel the scratch of her fingernails on his back. Needed to hear her scream in pleasure and beg him for more.

  He wanted. Falden never wanted anything, not for himself. Hadn’t allowed himself to want anything. Not in two thousand years.

  Perhaps he’d denied himself pleasures of the flesh for too long. Perhaps the powers rising within him since Sasha had rekindled the crystal energy of his sword was to blame. Or maybe this female just happened to be exactly to his liking. Dark hair, dark eyes and lush curves he could sink into.

  Whatever the cause, his violent sexual reaction made no sense. None at all. And so he would ignore it, do his job. A Lumerian Knight did not falter over something so weak as attraction to a beautiful female. If so, the surviving Knights would have been eliminated long, long ago.

  “Ummm, are you going to sit down?” Isabella stared up at him, and Falden realized he’d been standing—hovering—for too long.

  “Of course.” He settled in next to her before making eye contact with the two Lumerians providing security in a booth several feet away from his table. They were fully armed beneath their human clothes, ancient swords cloaked. Hunted as they were, they could never take the risk of everyone going unarmed or unprepared.

  For the first time in thousands of years Falden was unarmed. Exposed. He’d only agreed to the ridiculous human clothing in order to protect his people from the human woman sitting across from him. For his people, he would do anything. Make any sacrifice. As he looked at Isabella, he realized how difficult this mission might become. He had to remember she was the enemy and ignore the fire in his veins. Ignore her soft, tempting body. Ignore his instincts.

  Dragging his gaze from Isabella, he glanced across the room once more to assure himself that they were still protected by his Knights. Cassiel and Vander nodded, almost imperceptibly, Vander tapping his index finger on the table before him to remind Falden to use the list. The how-to guide. Falden had no idea how to lure the enticing creature next to him into trusting him with the truth. He needed to know exactly what she knew about his people. Where her information was coming from. Threat assessment was his first priority, the reason he was here. Satisfying his growing personal need to know every minute detail about the woman was unwise, and he refused to allow anything to distract him from his mission. No matter how hard it was.

  Try telling that to my cock.

  “So, John, thank you for the flower,” she said a little breathlessly. Leaning forward, she tilted her head to the side. She smiled up at him, but it was her sexy voice that made him burn. He imagined her screaming as he brought her to orgasm.

  Falden leaned in toward her slightly, never breaking eye contact, close enough to kiss. “I shall have to remember that you like flowers,” he said, his deep, rumbly baritone relaxed and confident. He was careful not to show any emotion on his face, bank the fire in his eyes as he held her gaze. He couldn’t afford to let down his own guard, but he noted with satisfaction her heightened color, flushed cheeks, and quickened breathing. She was definitely not immune to him.

  Isabella nodded uncomfortably as the waiter approached their table, smoothing a hand down her hair. She refused to regret wearing the red wig and thick glasses. The huge alien sitting across from her was putting out some serious alpha waves, making her want to respond to him with everything feminine inside her. She throbbed. Ached to let him get closer. Too bad she was on an assignment. Too bad this wasn’t a real date. But something was wrong. He was supposed to say he knew the color would match her dress. It didn’t, actually, but that was what he was supposed to say. Then he would give her the flower, which held a microchip at the center, and in exchange she would give him the key to the locker where she was supposed to have placed the item he was buying. Only he didn’t say that, and she didn’t have the item. This was turning into a real cluster.

  Blue eyes met brown. Held.

  The waiter cleared his throat. “Can I get you two something to drink?”

  Isabella was the first to look away.

  Falden frowned. Order drinks. Human beverages. His first opportunity had arrived to use the foolproof Nice Guy’s Guide to the Hookup. According to the rules, he was not to give his date time to choose what to eat or drink. He was to order everything. He would prefer to learn from her what she liked, but mission success came first. All Lumerians, and Caldorians for that matter, had complete respect for females. By Earth standards they were all alpha males, but since they knew next to nothing about dating rituals on Earth, he’d ordered Vander to do some research. The blog Vander had chosen guaranteed results, and this was what was needed. Results. He needed her trust. She would never reveal her contacts otherwise.

  Falden didn’t bother looking at the waiter, instead keeping his gaze on Isabella. “We’ll have Scotch. On the rocks.”

  The waiter paused, glanced at Isabella, then back at him. “Both of you?”

  Spotting Isabella opening her mouth to order for herself, Falden interrupted immediately. “Yes.”

  The waiter flushed with anger. Perfect, he thought. Isabella fidgeted in her seat, clearly displaying signs of human discomfort. Everyone was thrown off-balance, just as the blog predicted would happen. The human male who had authored the advice was turning out to be the expert Vander claimed him to be. Falden didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed in human women as a whole, but this female in particular. He didn’t want easy. He wanted to conquer her. Win her over. Fight for what he wanted and claim the sweetest victory when she allowed him to take her.

  “Right away, sir.” The waiter nodded and left.

  Falden forced a rare grin and made sure to pull the sleeves of his ridiculous and far too tight black shirt halfway to his elbow so as best to display the human jewelry for males, called a watch. The thing was cumbersome, too heavy, and had cost the team tens of thousands of Earth dollars, but the guide had insisted an obvious display of wealth was a very important part of the seduction of a female.

  His date watched the waiter retreat, then turned her gaze to him before glancing down at his wrist.

  “Is that a Rolex?” she asked blandly.

  “Of course.” Inwardly cringing, he quietly informed her of how much it cost, as instructed by the human dating guide. While he had accumulated great wealth, he’d never been one to purposely use it to gain a woman’s interest. Doing so now felt wrong, especially with this woman.

  “Wow.” Her eyes narrowed, but she managed a smile. “Carrying around that much gold must be tiring, John. However do you manage?”

  Falden tensed, his instincts telling him the question was a trap. She couldn’t possibly think he looked weak, no matter what clothing he chose to wear. Her insult must therefore be intentional. But how to respond? “The device for time monitoring is easily managed. I have much more weighty devices. Some are very old. Primitive.” he said. “I come from a very old family.” He didn’t, of course. Not anymore. His entire family line had died out with the destruction of his planet. He’d searched and searched for remnants of his family with no luck. He was all that was left.

  “I see.” Isabella leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. When she caught him staring, he decided to continue with the dating guide’s suggestions with an insult to her appearance while her attention was directly on him. In fact, he would combine the insult with the physical advance rule. He was nothing if not efficient. In no time at all, this female would be telling him all her secrets.

  “Your hair looks like it was styled with a Weedwacker.” He leaned forward and placed his hand on her thigh, just above her knee. “But that was your intention, wasn’t it? To tempt me?”

  Isabella barely held back the snort of disgust that shot like a hot bullet from her gut to her throat.

  What. An. Ass. God, the things she did for her job. This was supposed to be a simple exchange at the regular drop site. Why did they always try to make this personal? “John” was the hottest man she’d ever
laid eyes on, but his attempt to make this appear like the worst date in history was making her want to scream. What the hell was he thinking? Why hadn’t he said the pre-arranged code so that they could be done with this farce? “Well, we are on a date, are we not?” she asked, hoping he would supply the appropriate response.

  He studied her for far too long. “Indeed, we are.”

  Those were not the code words that she and her black market source had set up weeks ago. This guy was either trying to stretch this out or he wasn’t who he said he was. The last guy had tried to string her along, too, but when she got serious, he had, too. Shit. She just wasn’t sure. That made her mad as hell. Hiding her rage was difficult, but she was not going to let some alien douchebag ruin this opportunity for her.

  Isabella cut to the chase. “I don’t have time for this. Do you have something for me or not?” Either he wanted to play games with her first, or he didn’t know the password. She fumed. He was an alien. That was not in question. Not only was he huge, he had beautiful alien markings. All Caldorians had them in different colors and patterns. She’d seen the news feeds. The articles. She could see the crystalline swirl on his forehead, and she’d bet money he had more markings. He was sexy as sin with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes.

  Caldorians were generally taller, stronger, and faster than humans, and he looked to be at the top of the evolutionary heap, even for a Caldorian warrior. Her girlie bits had gone into overdrive until he’d opened his gorgeous mouth and all that drivel started spewing out. She should be thanking him. Now she could do her job without fear of falling for the asshole.

  And her job, right now, was to get one step closer to finding Sevron and his brother. This man had to be working at the Caldorian Earth base, a secretive place that no one could get any real information about. They were constantly in the news, but nothing personal was ever revealed. The lack of any worthwhile information had her hackles up from day one.