Free Alien, Mine by Sandra Harris Page A

body sang the hallelujah chorus.
    “I believe Private Shrenkner is accompanying you to the mines tomorrow?”
    “Yes, I’m looking forward to that.”
    “They are very beautiful.” He crooked a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head. “Do as she says.”
    What?
    She tried to suppress the embarrassed blush rising up her throat. Here she thought he’d been going to make some reference to her being beautiful.
    “Oh, er, of course.”
    He nodded. “You have agreed to educate us in your language, yes?”
    “I have.”
    “Do not tax your—”
    “Eugen, I’ll start climbing the walls soon if I don’t keep myself active.”
    His head tilted to one side as though a little nonplussed, then his expression cleared.
    “Very well.” He cast a long, speculative glance at her bed. “I’m sure you long for the ease of your couch.”
    What is he thinking?
    He released her face, raised one of her hands and pressed a warm kiss to her wrist. Her pulse leapt to his touch.
    “Good night, sleep well.”
    After that look and the feel of your lips on my skin? You’re kidding!
    Mhartak entered his quarters and stood motionless in the semi-dark, staring at a wall. He could still feel the warm flush of Sandrea’s breath at the base of his neck and the way, under his hand, the small of her back curved to her waist. His muscles ached from exercising every ounce of restraint he possessed to not pull her to him. To not crush the lush fullness of her breasts to the hardness of his chest. To not rip the clothes from her body and satisfy the roaring throb of his desire.
    He dropped his chin to his chest and breathed out a long sigh.
    She had accepted his offer of friendship.
    Was that why she’d allowed his familiar touch? Or was it simple curiosity on her part? Perhaps even a means of protection, a sensible bid to align herself with someone of powerful standing? Had the acceptance of his touch been of any consequence to her at all?
    He shook his head. Did his form hold any sexual appeal for her whatsoever? How could he attract her interest? What courtship rituals did human males perform?
    He clung to the knowledge she had not rejected him.
    And at least he could take comfort that for once he had left her in a calm state of mind.
    Gleaming like pure light, huge clusters of enormous polygonal, crystalline shafts flooded the crystal mine chamber with the surreal beauty of amber radiance. Sandrea lost herself in its inherent magic.
    “There are more through here,” Shrenkner murmured and moved away.
    She followed, weaving through supporting pillars carved from the housing rock, avoiding workers rushing to and fro as she walked into lavender light. Almost an entire wall glowed in amethyst splendour.
    Oh my glorious God.
    Shrenkner took her through five more chambers before sheer geological magnificence overwhelmed her. She dropped to the rock floor and leaned her back into a rose coloured nodule the size of a small car.
    “This is truly incredible, Shrenk’,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”
    “My name is Shrenk ner ,” the soldier corrected politely.
    Ah-huh.
    “You don’t go for nicknames?”
    Shrenkner frowned. “No one has before.”
    Not surprising.
    “Do you mind?”
    She almost gaped as the other woman smiled.
    “Actually, no.”
    “Great.”
    A breath of wind brushed her face. A horrifying odour slid into her nostrils. Alarm lifted her upright.
    “Shrenk’?” she hissed.
    “Yes, Sandrea?”
    “Should I be able to smell Bluthen here?”
    “What?”
    “I can smell Bluthen here.”
    “You’re joking with me.”
    “No, I’m not.” She emphasized her denial with a vehement shake of her head. “Can’t you smell them?”
    “No, I can’t. You’re sure?”
    She sent the private a you-don’t-think-I’d-be anything-less-than-intensely-serious-about- that- subject-do-you? look.
    Shrenkner pulled a medical scanner from her fatigues and waved it in her direction.
    “What are you scanning