Free Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) by Aislinn Kearns Page B

around. It was much like the rest of the house, with its clean lines and airy feel. A few more personal touches dotted this room. A decorative lamp, a painting of a forest hanging on one wall and a replica of a John Waterhouse painting opposite it on the far wall. The bedspread was a crisp white, and a neat stack of eclectic books sat on the bedside table.
    “It’s lovely,” she breathed. She turned to find Paul hovering in the doorway. His face relaxed into a smile at her words.
    “I’m glad. You might be here a while.”
    At the reminder, Christine’s smile died.
    “How long until we solve this and catch these guys?”
    Suddenly sombre, Paul shrugged.
    “Hopefully soon. Duncan has put his best people on it. There’s no reason to think this will drag on.”
    “I trust you,” she told him. He cleared his throat.
    “I should go grab our bags and move the car into the driveway. Get settled, I won’t be long.”
    Then, he was gone.
    The light was fading outside, casting an ethereal glow across the world. She’d always loved the romance of the Magic Hour. Christine moved to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sunset. Instead, her eyes were riveted on Paul as he moved across her line of sight.
    He hadn’t been at all what she was expecting, she could admit that to herself. He’d rescued her, and in her mind’s eye she’d seen a traditional hero. The one that women had been taught to want for centuries. Tall, strapping, virile.
    She supposed he could still be all those things. His body was long, based on the way he was folded in his chair. And his shoulders certainly proclaimed him to be strapping. The virility was a question mark. She knew that sometimes paraplegia changed certain functions, and there was no way that Christine could politely ask just to satisfy her own curiosity.
    Though, she did acknowledge that there were many different ways a man might please a woman, and few of them involved his dick.
    Rolling her eyes at her own crassness, she watched as he manoeuvred the car carefully into the drive, and then reassembled his chair before sliding into it. He wheeled himself over to the gate, typing a code into the matching keypad inside the gate. She guessed he was setting some alarms.
    It occurred to her that there were different kinds of heroes. Heroism was about deeds, not some superficial mould that one had to conform to. And in that sense, Paul more than qualified. Besides, his deep, rough voice, distracting arm muscles, and piercing eyes more than made up for his other physical qualities that some might think were lacking.
    She was attracted to him, that much was obvious. Had been since that first moment she’d heard his voice, and it hadn’t gone away once she had been presented with the reality of her saviour. The question she really had to ask herself was whether it was a mutual thing, or whether she had just latched onto him and put him on a pedestal because he’d saved her life. Twice.
    Either was a possibility, or some combination of both. She’d have to keep an eye on herself to discover her true feelings on the matter.

Chapter 7
     
    It was dark by the time they were settled into Station Alpha. 
    They’d scrounged together some sandwiches from the food they’d taken from Paul’s kitchen. Then, Christine had retreated to her room, mentioning a shower. Paul presumed she’d head to bed after. Neither of them had had much sleep the night before.
    Well-used to going long periods without sleep, Paul double and triple checked the security systems to make sure they were fully operational. He got the cameras online, both interior and exterior. He let out a sigh of relief when the familiar images flickered on the screen. A tension he hadn’t known was there loosened in his shoulders.
    “What are you looking at?” Christine asked from the doorway. Paul swung his chair around to see her leaning casually against the doorjamb in her pyjamas, running a towel through her wet hair.
    He