The Nanny and the Alien Warrior by Honey Phillips

Chapter Four

Joanna breathed a sigh of relief as the massive alien nodded. She had never seen anyone quite like him before, neither amongst the aliens she had seen at the slave auction nor the ones who frequented the market. His skin was patterned in shades of rich green, with darker ridges that led up over a well-shaped head. He had a wide, lipless mouth and a flat nose, but his features were oddly compelling, as were the black eyes fastened so intently on her face.

The dark shirt and pants he was wearing clung to acres of muscles, from impossibly broad shoulders to narrow hips and thick thighs and… She quickly jerked her eyes away, but she was quite sure she had seen an equally massive bulge. Oh, Lord—and she was going to be sharing a cabin with him? She should be terrified, but instead she felt a completely unexpected warmth low in her stomach.

Her hand automatically patted the tail still wrapped around her wrist, noticing for the first time that it was covered with small nubs that felt intriguingly rough against her skin. I wonder if he’s like that all over, she thought, then felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

What is wrong with me?

Sultavi tugged on her sleeve, and she turned to her, grateful for the distraction. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m tired. Will you carry me?”

“Of course.” She bent to pick her up, but as she straightened, her exhaustion caught up with her and she stumbled.

Craxan’s tail immediately wrapped around her waist, supporting them both.

“She is too heavy for you.”

“No, she’s not. I’m just a little tired.”

He frowned at her. “If you will permit… If she will permit…”

Before she could respond, he bent down to look at Sultavi. “Will you allow me to carry you? Your… Joanna is weary.”

Sultavi buried her head in Joanna’s neck, and she bit back a sigh. Not that she normally minded, but weariness was dragging at her. Then the little girl peeked back at Craxan.

“Are you going to betray us?”

He looked shocked, then solemnly shook his head. “By Granthar’s Hammer, I swear you are safe with me.”

Purple eyes studied black eyes, then Sultavi nodded. “You may carry me.”

Joanna saw Craxan’s mouth curve at the regal note in the little girl’s voice, but he lifted her carefully into his arms. She looked impossibly small against that broad chest, but she smiled happily.

“We should leave now,” Craxan said and Opinnas nodded.

The scholar led the way, with Joanna behind him and Craxan forming the rear guard. She was overwhelmingly conscious of his presence behind her, and finally darted a quick look over her shoulder. As she suspected, he was watching her, his face full of masculine appreciation. Ignoring her pleasant little flutter of excitement in response, she looked at Sultavi. Her head was tucked against his neck, her eyes closed.

“Is she asleep?” she whispered.

“No,” Sultavi mumbled sleepily, and they both smiled.

Then his gaze lifted over her head and his face hardened into an almost unrecognizable mask.

“Hold her,” he ordered, passing her the girl and stepping in front of both of them.

Opinnas had come to a halt, she realized, just as they reached the plaza in front of the spaceport. A plaza with two Allikan guards leaning against the entrance pillars. They looked neither alert nor interested, but there was no way their party could cross the space without being seen.

“Is there another way inside?” Craxan asked quietly.

“There’s a fence around the perimeter. You could possibly scale it…”

Craxan waved at the faint line of light along the horizon indicating the coming dawn. “No time.”

“I should have realized that there would be someone here, even at this time,” Opinnas said apologetically.

Joanna’s heart skipped a beat. They were so close.

“I’m scared,” Sultavi whispered.

“I know, sweetheart.”

She tightened her arms around the warm little body, then made her decision.

“Take her and head for the ship. I’ll distract them.” Both of the males looked so appalled that she almost giggled hysterically. “I’m sure I’ll be fine—you both said that I was valuable. And Tavi will be safe.”

“No!” Sultavi’s arms wrapped around her neck. “You can’t leave me.”

She hugged her back, her heart breaking, but she couldn’t see any other way.

“Unacceptable,” Craxan pronounced, as if that resolved the matter.

“Do you have an alternative?”

He put his hand on his blaster, and she glared at him. “All that would do is bring all the other guards running.”

“Your idea has merit, my dear.” Opinnas ignored Craxan’s growl. “Except I will provide the distraction. Craxan can then take them by surprise and, err, dispatch them silently.”

“Can you do that?” she asked the big alien.

“Yes.” He glanced at the brightening horizon. “But it will have to be fast. I will head to that side.”

Without another word, he vanished back into the streets. Her throat felt curiously tight as she turned back to Opinnas.

“Are you sure about this?”

He peered at her over his spectacles. “Of course.”

Slipping off his own cloak, he handed it to her. “Wrap this around Sultavi so her features can’t be seen.”

Before she could respond, he staggered out into the plaza. The guards immediately snapped to attention as he headed for them, singing an extremely dirty song, loudly and off key. One of the guards shook his head, and the other one grinned.

And then Craxan was there. He seemed to emerge out of the shadows, his big body moving with a grace and speed that belied his size. His tail swept out, knocking one guard to his knees, only to have Craxan deliver a hammer-like blow to the back of his skull. He dropped like a stone. The other guard started to turn, but he was too late. Craxan yanked his arm up behind him, and the sharp crack echoed through the quiet plaza. Another blow and the second guard dropped.

The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds.

She stared at the fallen bodies, stunned, dismayed, and more than a little turned on.

“He’s better than Lutta,” Sultavi said dispassionately. Lutta was the guard teaching her self-defense.

“Hurry!” The call from Opinnas snapped Joanna out of her shock, and she took off at a run.

Craxan met her halfway, lifting her and Sultavi into his arms without even breaking stride. As he headed for the cargo gate, she turned and waved at Opinnas.

“Thank you!”

“Take care of yourself and the child.”

His voice faded as Craxan ducked through the gate and started across the landing field.

“I can walk,” she offered.

He glanced down at her, his eyes warm and amused. “No time. And I enjoy carrying you.”

All righty then.

Peering over her shoulder, she saw they were heading for the most dilapidated-looking ship she had ever seen.

“Can that thing even fly?” she asked.

“Don’t let it fool you. The captain keeps it that way on purpose.” His amusement faded. “Now cover as much of yourself and the child as you can. I want to keep your identities concealed for as long as possible.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face, then arranged the one Opinnas had given her so that nothing could be seen of Sultavi. The little girl didn’t protest, half-asleep again.

Her face was pressed against Craxan’s neck, and she could feel the intriguing texture of his skin against her cheek. It appeared those tantalizing little nubs did cover his whole body. She took a deep breath. Mmm. He smelled so good, like dark, bittersweet chocolate. Did he taste like chocolate as well? Giving in to a sudden, completely irrational impulse, she flicked her tongue across his skin.

He shuddered, then tensed.

“Cutting it pretty close, aren’t you? Never thought I’d see the day when an unreliable soak like Jed would be more dependable than a Cire warrior.”

She didn’t recognize the new voice, but it had a lazy, mocking quality that irritated her.

“I had business to conclude.”

“I see. Like hiding your family?” the stranger asked sardonically.

Craxan growled, and she felt that one reverberate inside her core.

“No one looks at my mate, Merios.”

“Interesting. That almost sounded like a possessive Cire male.” Merios said thoughtfully. “But we all know that’s impossible, don’t we?”

“Just fly the damn ship out of here and stop worrying about my life.”

“Whatever you say, honored guest.” Definitely mocking. “Your cabin is the third one on the right. Second level.”

Craxan started walking again without another word. She had a hard time restraining herself from trying to peek at the owner of the annoying voice, but she managed. Craxan climbed a flight of stairs, and she heard a door slide open. He stepped inside, but didn’t immediately put her down. His body was still rigid, and she was just about to ask what was wrong when she felt the vibration. The ship was taking off.

Craxan’s muscles unlocked, and he brushed the cloak away from her face.

“We have left the surface,” he said and smiled.

He leaned over to put her down, and she gave into another impulse and brushed her lips across his cheek. For a second, his muscles turned rigid again, then he continued bending down until her feet touched the floor. Her cheeks heating, she tried to take a step back and hit the wall.

She could feel her blush increasing as she stumbled, and Craxan gently took Sultavi away from her.

She rubbed her head and looked around. He certainly hadn’t been kidding when he said it would be a tiny cabin. If she extended her arms, she suspected she could touch both walls at the same time. A narrow bench ran along one wall, while the other wall had some odd-looking panels. Everything was a dingy white—not dirty, exactly, but worn from age and casual maintenance.

Her eyes went back to the bench, upholstered in what looked like patched vinyl. Was that intended to be the bed? She wasn’t even sure it was wide enough for her, let alone the three of them.

“Umm, is that where we’re supposed to sleep?”

Craxan shook his head, then reached over her to manipulate a wall panel. A second bench opened higher in the wall, this one clearly intended as a bed despite its narrow size. He gently placed Sultavi into it. She barely stirred.

Which left the bottom bench for the two of them. She eyed it uncertainly. Should she offer to sleep on the floor?

Before she could speak, Craxan pressed another button and the bench slid across the room as the back dropped down next to it, leaving only a narrow pathway between the bed and the wall. The resulting surface was not much wider than a twin bed, but it looked infinitely more comfortable than the bench. Two thin pillows and two flimsy blankets had been stored behind the back, and Craxan reached across the bed to grab them and place them on the bench.

“You should get some sleep,” he said.

“But what about you?”

“I need to go check on my companion.”

“Companion?” Did he mean a girlfriend? And why did that thought distress her? She barely knew the man—male.

“Are you going to stay with her—them?” The question popped out before she could stop it.

He tilted his head, studying her face, then his tail patted her hand again. Somehow she hadn’t realized it was encircling her wrist once more.

“No. Jed is in a crew bunk. I just want to make sure that he is safely on board and find out what supplies he acquired.” A flash of what looked like worry crossed the alien features. “You should rest,” he continued. “I will return later.”

He took the one small step to the door, then turned back. “The door is keyed to my retinal pattern. No one else can enter. You are both safe.”

She nodded, and his tail tightened briefly before slipping away, leaving her wrist feeling oddly cold and bare. The door slid closed behind him with a quiet click, and she sank down on the bunk.

After the fear of the past week, she supposed she should feel relieved, but instead she only felt curiously numb. Everything had happened so quickly. From leaving the confined basement to the terrifying run through the streets to another confined space. Even smaller this time, she thought wearily. And she hadn’t thought to ask about bathroom facilities.

One of the panels on the opposite wall was roughly the size of a door, and with a little experimentation she managed to slide it open. The tiny bathroom reminded her uncomfortably of the bathroom on the slave ship—a minuscule sink, a toilet with a disturbing resemblance to an airline toilet, and an overhead fixture that released a liquid that was most definitely not water, but nonetheless effective. With a sigh, she stepped inside and turned on the shower. After their time in the tavern basement with its extremely limited facilities, she was desperate to feel clean again.

She didn’t even bother removing her clothes—they were as dirty as the rest of her. The soap dispenser used the same disinfectant soap as the slave ship, and she sighed again. What she wouldn’t give to be back in the big bathtub in her apartment with an array of sweet-smelling bath products and the candles lining the window sill. If slavery was illegal, she was a free woman again and, maybe now that she was away from Alliko it might be possible to return to Earth. But then she thought of the little girl sleeping in the upper bunk.

No, Earth and her life there was behind her now. She just needed to come up with a plan to support the two of them.

The flow of liquid was replaced with the blast of hot air that served in place of a towel. She already knew it wouldn’t work on her clothing, so she stripped off the shirt and pants, turning around until her body was relatively dry.

When she peeked out into the cabin, Craxan had not returned, so she grabbed one of the thin sheets and wrapped it around herself before hanging her clothes from the hooks she discovered behind another panel. The sheet was coarse and scratchy, but it seemed clean enough, and she sank down on the bed as exhaustion overcame her.

She stacked the two thin pillows under her head and tried to think of how she could make a living, but her thoughts kept straying to the big green alien. Maybe he would have a suggestion, she thought, but as she drifted off to sleep all she could think about was how safe she had felt cradled in his arms.