Micah stared at the transmitter, wondering how he'd ever fix it. Without the radio, he had no way of contacting his sister ship, no way of letting them know he was still alive. How much longer would Pergith wait, hoping to hear from him? He looked out the window. Perhaps they'd already given up.
Picking up the transmitter, he ran the tip of his finger over the distress signal mechanism. It could be activated only once, and was meant to be used only in cases of dire emergency. Should he activate it now? To do so would bring any spacecraft in the sector to his rescue, yet such a rendezvous could be dangerous, for him and for them, unless it took place in a location where there was little chance of discovery.
Brow furrowed in a thoughtful frown, Micah turned the small black box over in his hand. He'd barely had time to grab his flight kit and the transmitter and eject from his craft before the ship crashed and exploded. Badly shaken, he hadn't had the strength to disintegrate what little had been left, so he'd camouflaged the wreckage of his ship as best he could, and sought a place to hide.
Even before he entered the house at the top of the hill, he had sensed that it had been vacant for a long time. Near exhaustion and badly hurt, he'd managed to drag himself up the stairs. Taking refuge in the welcome dark of the topmost floor, he had treated his wounds, using the emergency medical supplies in his flight pack.
Micah placed the transmitter on the table and sat back in his chair, but it wasn't communication with home that filled his mind now. It was the woman, Lainey. From the moment he first saw her, there had been a strong bond between them, a telepathic link he had never experienced with anyone else. She could hear his thoughts if he projected them her way; he could read her mind with very little effort. It was impossible, but true. Frightening but fascinating. What a rare creature she was, open and outgoing, trusting.
"Lainey..." He spoke her name aloud, liking the sound of it.
He couldn't wait to see her again, to hear her voice, savor her nearness, feel the touch of her hand. Ah, but she was so warm, so soft, like nothing he had ever known.
He glanced out the window. The position of the sun told him she would be there soon.
Soon.
Lainey's fingers flew over the keyboard. It was such a great feeling, when the ideas flowed like water, when the words came almost faster than she could type them. And yet, even as the story took shape before her eyes, a part of her mind was always on Micah. He was a strange man, so different from anyone else she had ever known. Strong and tender. Virile yet oddly innocent. She wondered how many women he had loved, how many hearts he had broken - if he would kiss her, just once.
She glanced at the clock on her desk. It was almost five, almost time to quit for the day.
Her heartbeat accelerated and butterflies of anticipation danced in her stomach. Soon she would see him again.
Soon.
Micah's head snapped up. She was near. He could feel her presence drawing ever closer.
Rising, he covered the transmitter with a scrap of cloth he had found in the basement, quickly assumed the shape she expected, and hurried down the stairs to meet her.
Moments later, she entered the house, bringing the warm scent of sunshine and flowers with her.
She greeted him with a smile and a breathy hello, and the look of happiness in her eyes filled him with a rush of pleasure so acute that it was almost painful.
Lainey gazed at Micah. She knew she was grinning like an idiot, but she was so happy to see him again, she couldn't seem to stop.
Micah felt an odd catch in his heart as he followed her into the parlor. How beautiful she was! She wore a blouse of some gauzy white material that was the perfect foil for her tawny skin and ink-black hair. A dark red skirt swirled around her ankles as she walked, emphasizing the feminine sway of her hips.
"What have you got there?" he asked, gesturing at the brown paper sack in her arms.
"Oh, not much. Candles, matches, some bread and cheese. A bottle of wine. Some fruit, and a couple of candy bars." She looked up at him, her expression sheepish. "One of my books."
Micah smiled. "Will you read it to me?"
"If you like," Lainey agreed, although reading one's own words aloud, to someone else, was often traumatic, like standing naked on a street corner, letting everyone see you, flaws, freckles, and all.
He followed her into the kitchen and stood in the doorway, his gaze caressing her as she moved about the room. She pulled two white china plates out of her bag, arranged layers of bread, sliced ham, and cheese on the plates, added sliced apples and oranges. Reaching into her bag again, she took out a bottle, two glasses, two cloth napkins, and a flowered tablecloth.
"Shall we eat in front of the fire?" she asked.
"If you wish."
"Grab the plates, will you?"
Nodding, he picked up the dishes, taking a moment to sniff the unfamiliar food before following her into the other room.
Spreading the tablecloth on the floor in front of the hearth, Lainey sat down and filled their glasses with wine.
Micah sat down across from her, setting the china on the floor between them.
"What shall we drink to?" Lainey asked, handing one of the goblets to Micah.
"Exploring," Micah replied, his voice sounding unusually husky.
"Exploring?" Lainey repeated. "That's an odd toast, but if that's what you want..." She touched her glass to his. "Here's to exploring."
He watched her take a drink, and then he took a sip. The wine was tart and sweet at the same time, different from the wine they'd had at the restaurant. But he wasn't thinking of wine as his gaze met hers. He was pondering the effect her nearness had on him, bemused by the heat that permeated his being whenever she was near.
"What do you want to explore?" Lainey asked, and knew the answer before the words left her lips.
"You," he replied, his tone hushed, and suddenly he knew without question what he wanted. "I want to explore every curve, every valley, every peak. I want to touch you, and taste you, until I know every inch of your body as I know my own."
Lainey stared at him, the glass in her hand forgotten. It was suddenly hard to breathe and she wondered what had happened to the air in the room. No other man had ever looked at her like that, with eyes filled with such hunger, such yearning. No other man had ever said anything quite so romantic, or made her feel so desired. So desirable.
"Micah, I..." She felt a blush creep up her neck into her cheeks. "I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing. Only let me touch you again, for a moment."
Heart pounding, Lainey put her wine glass aside. Mesmerized by the heat of his silvery gaze, she let Micah draw her into his arms, felt every nerve ending come suddenly, acutely, alive as his hand stroked her hair, her back.
"You're so soft," he murmured. "You smell so good. Feel so good."
Lainey made a small contented sound low in her throat as his hand caressed the curve of her cheek.
"Kiss me," she whispered.
He looked down at her, confused. "Kiss you?"
Lainey nodded. "You know, a kiss. Like this."
Her eyelids fluttered down as her hand slipped around his neck, drawing him closer.
And then he felt her lips on his, and his whole being was suffused with heat and light. It burned into every cell, exploding through his groin, arousing him to hungers he had never fully understood until that moment.
"Lainey!" He gasped her name, bewildered by the torrent of emotions flooding through him. Images danced inside his head - images he had seen years ago in an ancient scroll, images of couples engaged in a practice long forbidden and forgotten.
"It's all right," Lainey murmured, threading her fingers through his hair.
"No!" He drew back, his brow sheened with perspiration, his breathing ragged. "We mustn't."
"Mustn't what? Kiss? There's no harm in a kiss."
He stared at her mouth, knowing deep in his heart that one kiss would not be enough, that a hundred, nay a thousand, would be far too few.
She smiled up at him, her beautiful brown eyes as luminous as the stars of Xanthia, her lips pink and inviting, and he surrendered to the invitation in her eyes, unable to resist the temptation to kiss her again.
A kiss, he thought, what an amazing thing it was.
He had never kissed a woman before. It shook him to the very core of his being, freeing his tightly reined emotions, until he wanted nothing more than to plunder her body as he plundered her mouth.
The thought that his self-control, that the discipline he had worked so long and hard to master, could be so easily destroyed, was devastating, and he drew back, thinking that Lainey's power over him was far more dangerous than all the armies on the face of the earth.
Lainey gazed up at him, confused by his abrupt withdrawal. "What's the matter?" she teased, resorting to humor to cover her sudden uncertainty. "Are you afraid I'll seduce you?"
"No." His voice was thick. "I'm afraid of what I'll do to you."
It wasn't a harmless flirtation anymore. He wanted her in the most primal, elemental sense of the word. And she wanted him. Wanted him as she had never wanted another man.
"Micah..."
His gaze slid away from hers. He wanted her with a soul-deep ache that was frightening in its intensity, and even more alarming because he had never before known he was capable of such need, such raw, primitive hunger. To feel it now, for an earth woman, was more than he could endure.
"I think you should go."
He was right, and she knew it, but at that moment Lainey didn't care about right or wrong. She wanted to stay, to bask in the warmth of his arms, to lose herself in the sweet seduction of his kisses.
"Please, Lainey, go home and don't come back." Micah forced the words past his lips.
He watched her stand up, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. He didn't have to probe her mind to know he had hurt her deeply, but it was for the best - for her, at least.
He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out for her, compressed his lips to hold back the words that would beg her to stay.
She looked down at him for several seconds, then turned on her heel and hurried out of the room, out of the house.
He stared after her for a long time. In his mind's eye, he could see her running down the driveway, fumbling inside her handbag, jamming the key into the ignition of her little blue car. The motor sputtered to life, the car pulled into the street, and then she was gone, leaving him sitting there in the darkness, empty and alone, as he had always been alone.
It was time to leave here, he thought dully. He should have activated the distress signal long ago, but he had been reluctant to leave this planet.
Late at night, he had often assumed a human shape and wandered up and down the dark streets, intrigued and fascinated by the subtle differences, the numerous similarities, between Xanthia and Earth.
He should go home, but now that he had found Lainey, going home was the last thing he wanted. He hadn't meant to hurt her, didn't want to hurt her, and yet sending her away had been for her own good. He could not tell her the truth. He could not let himself succumb to the shameful primal urge that was tormenting him even now, sending the hot blood rushing through his body, making him long for a way of life that had been proscribed eons before he was born.
Heavy-hearted, he walked up the stairs to the third-floor room.
She was gone, and his soul was as cold and empty as his heart.