FEARLESS: Alien Sci fi Romance (Invasive Species Control Unit Book 2) Read online

  ‘I’m surprised there’s a room in this apartment big enough for your canvases and your ego,’ she said when Viktor put her down and switched on the light.

  ‘Your wit never fails to amaze me,’ he replied, smiling as he watched her reaction to his artwork.

  ‘It’s more sarcasm than wit, but that doesn’t matter because this place is just wow. Your stuff is amazing.’

  ‘This is Jakttera. I promised I’d show it to you.’

  Helen walked around the room, studying each of the four painted walls and the mural on the ceiling.

  ‘Did you paint this?’

  ‘Yes. It’s how I remember my homeland.’

  ‘It’s beautiful. I see similarities to Earth. You’ve painted trees and grass over there, although they look more pink than green.’

  Viktor nodded. ‘We breathe oxygen too, so our vegetation is very similar to yours.’

  ‘And what are they in the sky?’

  He looked up and felt a familiar stab of loss for Jakttera.

  ‘There were seven moons that circled our planet. Some were blue, others were grey, but all in varying sizes. We feel attuned to the moon.’

  ‘Do you miss it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She circled back to him and rested her palm against his bare chest. ‘Why did you come to Earth?’

  ‘Jakttera was dying. Our atmosphere became polluted. The desquamaters started to outnumber us. It was a dark time, but not everyone wanted to leave.’

  ‘Did you want to leave?’

  He placed his hand over her hand. ‘I was too young to have an opinion. My father, the king, ordered the evacuation and I trusted him.’

  ‘What was he like?’

  Viktor smiled, as he recalled the jaktten that seemed larger than life before illness robbed him of his strength.

  ‘Overbearing and overprotective.’

  ‘Our species have lots in common considering we come from separate solar systems. My father was the same. He said I’d never make a doctor.’

  ‘But you proved him wrong.’

  Her eyes glazed slightly. ‘I did, but he died before I qualified.’

  Viktor touched her cheek in a gentle gesture of comfort.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said, as she wiped at her eyes. ‘I’m sure he would’ve been proud of the woman you’ve become.’

  ‘And your father?’ she asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.

  ‘He was proud of me, I think. We spent many years travelling the solar system looking for a planet with a similar atmosphere to Jakttera.’

  ‘And you found Earth.’

  Viktor nodded. ‘My father wanted an uninhabited planet. He didn’t want to fight for the right to put down roots. We’d already fought the desquamaters and lost many soldiers. My father wanted peace, but our food supplies were running dangerously low. He eventually stopped eating, giving his rations to the children until he became sick. We nearly lost him once or twice, so I instructed the captain of our vessel to find the nearest compatible planet. Earth was the only option.’

  Helen moved closer to him and he inhaled her sweet scent.

  ‘When did this happen?’ she asked.

  ‘Fifty years ago.’

  ‘You’re older than you look.’

  ‘I’ve never had human friends for it to be a problem, but our council confirmed we age slower than you. Most jaktten live at least a century.’

  ‘Did your father live for a long time?’

  ‘Yes. He was blessed with many peaceful years on Earth before he passed away and I became ruler of the colony.’

  ‘That’s a lot of responsibility for one person.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  She lightly traced her hand across the painted smudges on his chest. ‘I’ve known you for barely a speck of time in your existence.’

  Viktor smiled. ‘True, but it’s been the most unforgettable speck yet. Without you I might never have discovered the proper way to drink tequila.’

  25

  ‘Take a seat,’ Viktor said, gesturing to the white sofa at the back of the room. ‘You’re about to become my new muse.’

  Helen rolled her eyes, as she sat down on one corner, as if at any second she was going to jump back up again.

  ‘I don’t know why you want to paint me,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Because you’re beautiful. Take off the T-shirt please.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Take off the T-shirt,’ he repeated.

  Helen’s brow crinkled in confusion. ‘If this is your attempt at sarcasm, it’s not in the right context.’

  ‘I’m serious. I’ve never had the opportunity to paint a human before.’

  Helen’s usually creamy cheeks flamed almost as red as her hair.

  ‘Does the thought of being naked make you uncomfortable?’ he asked, already knowing the answer but teasing her all the same. She tugged at the collar of her T-shirt - his t-shirt - which looked as if she’d spent the night in his bed and then thrown it on afterwards.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it does a little.’

  ‘I can assure you that your nakedness will not affect me in the slightest,’ he said. ‘It’s perfectly natural.’

  Helen stared up at him with trusting pale-blue eyes. ‘I don’t know whether it’s the buzz from the alcohol or the fact I want to prove how fearless I am, but I’ll do it.’

  Viktor removed his earlier failed attempt from the easel and set up a clean canvas. He loaded fresh paint onto his palette and checked his brushes.

  ‘How do you want me to pose?’ she asked, and he heard the familiar swoosh of cloth hitting the floor.

  ‘However feels most relaxed for you.’

  Viktor glanced over his canvas and dropped his paintbrush. Helen had arranged herself at one end of the sofa. He’d said her nakedness wouldn’t affect him, but he was wrong. She settled on her side with her head propped up on her hand. Her hips were angled forward and her other arm was draped across her pelvis, hiding that sacred part from his view. The swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips was enough for his cock to harden almost to the point of pain.

  ‘Is this ok?’ she asked hesitantly.

  Viktor cleared his throat. ‘Yes, yes it is.’

  ‘Oh right, it’s just you’re looking at me funny. Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘No, you’re fine. Perfect.’

  He switched his attention to the canvas, trying to focus on creating a piece of art and not on Helen’s dusty pink nipples which had pebbled from the cold. He retrieved his paintbrush and began applying colour to the canvas. His brushstrokes were light at first, but then grew wider and bolder. When it came to replicating the colour of her hair, Viktor needed to see more of it, so he put down his brush and crossed the room. Helen started to get up, but he held his hand out to stop her.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered. ‘I just need to do something.’

  He reached behind her head and unfastened the clips holding her hair back. He slid his fingers through the soft strands and arranged them so they cascaded over her shoulder.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said, his voice sounding husky in the quiet room. She held his stare, her desire evident on her face, and he hastily retreated to the safety of his canvas.

  He busied himself with his paints and brushes once again, and as Helen’s form gradually came to life on his canvas, each stroke felt as if he were touching her. He hadn’t anticipated how erotic painting a naked human woman would be, well at least a naked human woman he was attracted to, and his hands shook with the urge to touch her for real again.

  ‘Are you nearly finished?’ she called.

  ‘Almost,’ he replied, adding the final strokes of red to her hair. ‘Don’t move.’

  ‘I haven’t moved in hours.’

  Viktor checked the clock. She was exaggerating, but more time had passed than he’d realised.

  ‘This is why I usually paint landscapes,’ he muttered. ‘They don’t complain.’
>
  ‘I heard that. Landscapes don’t get cold either. Please hurry up.’

  ‘I’m nearly done.’

  He added a final swirl of colour to her cheeks and then stepped back to admire his masterpiece.

  ‘Finished.’

  26

  Helen’s body protested as she sat up and pulled Viktor’s T-shirt back over her head. The twinge in her neck made her wince as she tied her hair into a knot at the back of her head. She should have chosen a better position to pose, but truthfully she’d been thinking more about covering her modesty than her overall comfort.

  Viktor was now staring at his canvas instead of her. It had been harder than she’d anticipated remaining relaxed while he studied every inch of her body. He’d been utterly focused on his craft, his movements reminding her of a conductor as he orchestrated his masterpiece with fluid movements of brush against canvas. He looked happy – peaceful even – as he stood with his hands on his hips. More paint splattered his bare chest and arms, but he didn’t seem to care and she was grateful she’d caught a glimpse of this side of him.

  Helen knew she should stop trying to humanise him. He was an alien, but the longer she spent with him, the easier it was to forget. His kind had lived on Earth longer than she had. There was no reason for them not to try to integrate with humans.

  The image of the other aliens suddenly filled her head: the scaly ones, the ones who wanted to kill her and skin her, and not necessarily in that order. However, all thoughts of aliens vanished when she finally crossed the room and joined Viktor behind his easel.

  ‘Oh my god,’ she gasped, which caused him to frown.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you like it?’

  Helen’s hand covered her mouth, as she shook her head.

  ‘Have I offended you with my interpretation?’ he pressed, but she didn’t trust herself to answer. She didn’t know what to say and Viktor cursed beneath his breath.

  ‘I’ll get rid of it,’ he said, reaching for the canvas but she managed to block him in time.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Don’t…don’t do that. It’s…just…just…’

  She mentally willed herself to stop floundering as it was obvious she was angering him.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to explain,’ she admitted.

  His eyes flashed with disappointment. ‘If you don’t like it, I’d rather you just told me the truth.’

  Helen looked up at him, only now realising that his apparent anger was masking another emotion – vulnerability.

  ‘I love it, Viktor.’

  His scowl turned to surprise.

  ‘You love it,’ he repeated, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

  ‘I do. It’s beautiful. You’re an amazing artist. It’s just not me.’

  Viktor looked back and forth between the canvas and her.

  ‘Of course it’s you. You just sat there and complained how long it took. I wasn’t thinking about another woman nor did I slip in any unfair manipulation of your body.’

  She laid her hand on his arm.

  ‘I mean it doesn’t look like me. The woman you painted looks…’

  Her voice trailed off. She wanted to say that the woman looked exactly how she wished she looked. His talent for capturing the smallest details was exquisite. The brushstrokes built layers and layers of colour to her creamy skin. The playful smile curved her usually thin lips into something sensual. The glint in her pale blue eyes suggested confidence, whilst the suggestive curve of her hip and breast hinted to an invitation. The woman on the canvas was sharing a secret with a lover – a private moment forever captured.

  That couldn’t be her.

  ‘That can’t be me,’ she said aloud.

  ‘It’s exactly how I see you.’

  Viktor’s mouth found hers in a reverent kiss, which was sweet and gentle, and in complete contrast to the fire it ignited deep within.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he said, as he pulled away. ‘This canvas will be my way of keeping a part of you when you go.’

  He lifted her from her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist in an attempt to alleviate the throb that flared between them. He cupped her arse and walked towards the sofa. As he laid her down, she sighed.

  ‘I only just got off this damn sofa.’

  Viktor didn’t answer with more than a soft chuckle, before he was kissing her again. This time there was more force behind his actions and he used his tongue to part her lips to gain access. The feel of his velvety smooth tongue against hers caused a flood of moisture between her legs, which she guessed he felt as he inhaled sharply and pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers, allowing them both to catch their breath.

  ‘How do you know I’m going to leave?’ she asked.

  ‘Because I haven’t asked you to stay.’

  ‘Are you going to?’

  ‘I can’t.’

  Helen took comfort in the fact that he said he couldn’t ask rather than he didn’t want to.

  ‘Why are you being so hard on yourself?’ she asked, and Viktor suddenly sat up, bringing her with him until they were sitting side by side on the sofa.

  ‘My colony needs me to figure out what the hell is going on. I thought the Invasive Species Control Unit could handle the desquamaters, but all they’re doing is stamping out small fires while a bigger plot is unfolding behind the scenes. I fear I have traitors much closer to home than I wanted to admit. There are jaktten that want to challenge my authority; jaktten who want to rule in a different way. I can’t allow that.’

  ‘Have you thought about giving it up? Have you ever considered life might be better if you weren’t the prince or the leader of the colony?’

  Viktor remained silent.

  ‘If there was a way we could spend time together in the future, would you take it?’

  Helen didn’t like the slight whine in her voice, but she was past caring. This man had stolen her from Carson’s house and then stolen her damn heart, and she wasn’t letting him get away with pretending they could just walk away from each other without someone getting hurt.

  ‘There isn’t a way,’ he said.

  ‘It’s a hypothetical question, Viktor. If there was a way, would you take it?’

  He looked into her eyes and she could sense his internal-battle. Finally, he gave her the answer she’d been expecting.

  ‘No.’

  27

  The moment the word left his mouth, Viktor wished he could take it back. It was a lie. If there was a way he could pursue a relationship with Helen and still lead his colony, he would take it, but there wasn’t. Her pale blue eyes flashed with frustration and then faded to resignation.

  ‘If that’s your answer then you need to stop kissing me,’ she said, her cheekbones blossoming like a rose. ‘And you need to stop pretending to care.’

  ‘I’m not pretending. The longer I spend with you, the more blurred the line between right and wrong becomes. We need to end this now.’

  Helen got to her feet, but he grabbed her arm to stop her leaving.

  ‘We can’t end what we never started, Viktor,’ she said icily, and he released his hold on her arm.

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  She walked towards the door. ‘It’s true. In a few hours, it’ll be light again. You can drive me home and I’ll forget I ever met you. Until then…’

  She trailed off and he had this stupid notion that she was going to ask him to keep her company.

  ‘Until then, you promised I’d be safe with you,’ she said instead. ‘Are you going to keep that promise?’

  His brow furrowed with confusion, until he realised what she meant.

  ‘I would never force myself onto you,’ he said, hating that she thought he was capable of that, but he deserved it. He’d kidnapped and bound her. ‘You can lock the bedroom door if you don’t believe me.’

  Helen inclined her head.

  ‘I don’t know wha
t to believe when it comes to you. I’m tired. So damn tired.’

  She retreated from the room and it took all his willpower to remain on the sofa. His instinct was to chase. To hunt. To capture. To make her see how much he cared about her, but he waited until he heard her footsteps fade and then the unmissable click of her engaging the lock on the bedroom door, before he stood up.

  Viktor resumed his position behind his easel and Helen’s naked image seemed to jump out of the canvas and mock him. Less than an hour ago, she’d been laid bare before him with that hint of mischief behind her eyes and now she’d barricaded the door. If only he could turn back time to answer her question truthfully. He feared he’d caught an illness from her. An obsessive illness which meant he couldn’t think straight. She consumed his thoughts and filled his heart with a desire he’d never experienced before. She said he should stop kissing her, but it was part of the illness – the compulsion to touch her was too great to deny.

  He picked up the still-wet canvas and carried it to the window. He had this crazy urge to throw it into the River Thames, but knew he couldn’t destroy it. He also couldn’t look at it without feeling as if he’d lost something precious, so he tucked it out of sight. It would dry overnight and then tomorrow morning, he would add it to the crate of canvases that he stored at his warehouse with the other precious items salvaged from his home planet.

  In years to come, he was sure he would unpack the crate and glance at Helen’s image and not feel as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, but for now, he would pretend it didn’t exist and he would try to go to sleep.

  Alone and frustrated.

  28

  Carson stood on her patio and took a swig from the beer she was nursing. The full moon cast shards of light across her garden, but there were still plenty of shadows for someone to hide in. Yesterday, those shadows had morphed into a swarm of attacking desquamaters. Now it was quiet.