Her Alien Savior Read Online Free Page B

an ugly dude on any given day.
    He kept on walking closer. Close enough to see the stubble on his chin and the deepest darkest blue of his eyes.
    “Marissa Sanchez?”
    Marissa fought to keep the defensiveness from her voice. “Who wants to know?” And lost. Defensiveness and outright hostility she couldn’t control had come out.
    Her vehemence clearly stunned him. He paused, then, “I’m Finn.”
    “And that should mean something to me?” Oh God, why was she in such bitch-mode? Why? Could be because she was losing her restaurant. Her history. Her dad’s dream. It was bad enough she lost Dad. “What can I do for you?” She made an attempt to soften her tone.
    The man, Finn, turned back to Belle. Probably wishing he could still be talking to her. And Belle stared at him and defined the whole batting eyelashes phrase for Marissa.
    And for some reason, for some damned reason that Marissa didn’t want to put her finger on, it pissed her off that he was wishing he could be talking to Belle instead. And it made her wonder why she couldn’t get past the feeling he was looking for her, even though he wasn’t exactly acting like it anymore.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Finn
     
    Finn took a look back at the nice one. Belle was her name. A plump one with pleasing curves and curly red hair, blue eyes, of Irish descent probably, if he’d studied his Earth history well enough. She stood near the entrance, holding a dark wood wall for support, as if she was going to swoon, giving him a look that said she would follow him . . . anywhere, but probably preferably to a bed. The lighting was dim, the décor simple, sconces casting the dark table tops in a glow. Windows every few feet were half-shaded, keeping the heat and sun out.
    He almost wished she were the one he was assigned to get close to. To bring back. Then he looked back at the girl referred to as Marissa in the paperwork. Marissa Sanchez. Target 41.
    Not a chance. No, he’d keep this one, number 41, this Marissa. She wouldn’t be easy, that was clear, but there was something about her. Something fierce and passionate that made a reaction churn in his body. Especially in the regions he was cautioned against using with humans. He was confused. These strong sensations. This attraction, he hadn’t felt that before.
    Spirited little thing that she was. She had a fire in those eyes, eyes the color of the lakes at home, not the ones on Earth—hers were green, almost iridescent—she was dark-skinned, curvy. Curses. He fought the urge to focus on her body. Being human wasn’t easy. He felt a stirring and worked his mind to rid his body of its impulses.
    Were things more difficult for him because he was part human? Was that what made these things happen to his body? Or did all of the ones who were put on Earth go through that when they assumed human form? He’d have to remember to ask the others when they got back. Or should he? He’d probably sound . . . stupid . . . if he admitted to feeling things they didn’t.
    He kept his face stoic, something he’d practiced for years and shouldn’t be hard to do, even in a human body, then looked into the little firebrand’s eyes.
    Why did she hate him already? Why such animosity to someone she’d never met? He took a guess. “Bad day? It’s still early, I hope it’s not been a bad day.”
    She fisted her hands, then unfisted, put them behind her back. “No, just busy.” She’d softened her tone, as if realizing how she sounded.
    “Not a problem. I can come back later.” He turned around and made for the door, wondering if she was going to call him back, or if she’d let him walk out. Surely she was curious. He didn’t take long strides, hoping she’d relent—ask him what he wanted, why he was asking for her—that she would do something to stop him from going. He wanted to know more about this angry woman. She brought emotions to the forefront. He almost wanted to feign tripping and getting hurt to give him an excuse to