Alien Survivor: (Stranded on Galatea) An Alien SciFi Romance by Juniper Leigh

Author:Juniper Leigh [Leigh, Juniper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Enamored Ink
Published: 2016-02-25T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21:

Danovan tel’Darian

I hadn’t seen Lucille Ward come into the room. I couldn’t see anyone or anything, except for Ara. Even as she stood just behind me, I focused on her in my periphery, or felt her as she gripped the sleeve of my shirt. She was my entire universe, burned down to a point; she carried within her the entirety of my future happiness. She was pregnant, and the baby was mine.

A part of me is ashamed of the sizable portion of my mind that put everything else aside in the wake of Dr. Chen’s inadvertent revelation. A baby. A baby. Our baby.

But Lucille had a presence to be reckoned with, and I was flesh and blood, living and breathing, and just as susceptible as the next man to a true stunner. Araceli was beautiful, like a Botticelli cherub with skin like moth wings and hair like copper. But Lucille Ward had something other than beauty, something perhaps better than beauty. She had gravitas. She had command. She had that certain something that meant it was impossible to deny her once she’d walked into a room.

Her skin was the color of cocoa powder, and her eyes were swirling green emeralds encircled by a halo of thick lashes. Her hair, a cascade of loose black curls, was pinned at her temples but otherwise left to languish like a tumble of water down her spine. It was a youthful choice for someone whose mouth was parenthesized by smile lines, and whose eyes crinkled in the corners from years of smiling. But these were the only giveaways as to her age: she was incredibly well preserved. And why shouldn’t she be? She was among the wealthiest women in the galaxy, and her money could buy her cosmetic time, if it couldn’t buy her the real thing.

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do with you,” she was saying to Ara, who was looking rather startled at the woman’s sudden presence.

“What do you mean, do with me?” Araceli asked, venturing a tentative step toward the woman, who was plucking a pair of elbow-length gloves from her hands and hoisting them into the arms of one of her assistants. She was accompanied by three others, in total: her assistant, a bespectacled mouselike creature with dishwater-blond hair and pasty skin; a tall, hulking man with a shaved head, wearing a suit and sunglasses; and an effeminate gentleman, who was long, and tall, and lanky, in loafers and a sweater vest. They didn’t really seem like they’d be participating in the conversation; they mostly seemed like they were there to bolster their mistress’ presence, and make her seem even more intimidating than she actually was. Or maybe they thought she wasn’t safe with us. Good call: she wasn’t. But it was her son who was weaving the pistol around like a lunatic.

“You’re a great disappointment to me, Araceli,” Lucille went on, eying Ara through that thick forest of black lashes. “I thought you would be a fantastic face for GenOriens, at my son’s side.

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