Catch a Falling Star Read Online Free Page B

so that its light was now directed at her though she
     ignored it. For the first time he could get a good look at his
     adversary. The long braid she usually wore had come loose
     earlier, her hair freed to surround her head in a cloud of
     reddish brown waves, leaves and twigs caught in tangles. The tan
     overalls she wore, as well as her cheeks and forehead, had
     smears of oil and soot from the crash site. Light blue eyes
     blinked in the torch's light, red rimmed and betraying the pain
     she was still feeling from the injured ankle and a freshly
     bruised backside. Her thick, dark eyelashes were wet from the
     tears.
    The pilot hesitated
     seeing her like that; his snide remark dying in his throat.
     Rubbing the heel of his palm against his throbbing jaw, he
     worked it from side to side. He was lucky she hadn’t broken it.
     Kind of served him right, he supposed. He had stuck a
     gun in her side though the perverse side of him wanted to know
     exactly what she’d thought he was threatening her with.
    Eyeing the woman more
     closely, Miguel realized that this woman was as human as he was
     and not alien as he’d first assumed. Terran colony planet though
     it was, he hadn’t been convinced they were sharing the same
     building blocks of life. That wealth of soft looking hair and
     those corn flower blue eyes confirmed it, however. With a slight
     grin cocking the unhurt side of his mouth, he lowered his hand
     from his face and offered it to her.
    Determined not to
     allow him to think she was crying, let alone afraid of him,
     Lyrianne wiped at her eyes then drew her legs up so she could
     cradle the throbbing ankle with both hands. Her glare as well as
     her posture, despite her vulnerable position, shouted her
     defiance of him.
    “You stuck a gun in
     my ribs!” She was having trouble accepting that it had actually
     been a gun. She'd been mesmerized by his closeness, she was
     embarrassed to admit. And, heaven help her, his voice and his
     hot breath on her neck, so different from drunk Fat Farley's,
     had been making her weak in the knees. Almost from his first
     words, she hadn't sensed any real danger from him and she'd
     actually been behaving, she realized, with a mindset that put
     him more into the category of a good guy than an enemy. Was she
     crazy? Hell yes, she decided, she probably was. But so was he!
     “You threatened to shoot me!”
    He’d taken a step
     towards her, which flexed the muscle in his thigh, which
     reminded him of the thwarted kick he’d taken to the leg. His
     breath hissing out, he snatched his hand back and pressed it
     hard into the muscle, as if that pressure would relieve the
     ache. It didn’t, but it did remind him that his jaw had taken a
     knock, as well.
    “I did not!” he
     yowled back, the hand fisted around the weapon moved in to press
     against the inside of his leg while his other hand came up to
     try and hold his face together. “You hit me!” he accused, trying
     to work his throbbing jaw again. He could hear a clicking.
    Glaring at the woman,
     the pilot hobbled a couple of steps away and to the side of her,
     wary of being attacked. The light was shining in a broad beam,
     illuminating her, and he saw them for the first time.
    “Are- are you
     crying?” Tears shown plainly on white cheeks, glistening in
     wide, shining eyes and Miguel felt his insides sink to his feet.
    “Forgive me,” he
     started, wincing at the pain in his face. “I did not mean to
     make you cry.”
    “As if you could! You didn't hurt me.” With a disdainful sniff, Lyrianne snapped the
     denial back at him, rubbing her tender ankle. The longer she
     watched him, though, the less she felt angry at him. He might
     not be responsible for her injuries, but she had hurt him and she felt bad about it. It was too easy to feel
     sympathy, she thought, and hard to be afraid or stay angry when
     she still didn't feel threatened despite the gun he was holding.
    With a sigh, she
     slowly