Free Touched by an Alien by Gini Koch Page B

one leg up in the air.
    So that explained the princess and tiara comments. Prick.
    There was a knock on my bedroom doors. “Are you dressed yet or can I come in?”
    “Oh, come in.” I’d deal with Christopher’s invasion of my privacy later.
    Martini came in and gave me an appraising up and down. “You clean up nice. A little casual, but that’s okay. However, you should know I like the Stones better.”
    “Proof you’re an idiot, just as I suspected.” I grabbed my purse. “Do I need anything else?”
    He shook his head. “Nope. Just do me a favor and claim you were worried about twisting your ankle in your heels.”
    “You don’t want to get bawled out by Uncle Mr. White in front of the whole Home Base crew? And I was all ready to be impressed.”
    “If you admit that you wanted to come here so I could ravage you, I wouldn’t get in trouble.”
    “Dream on.”
    “Bed’s right there. Though, looking at it, maybe we’ll have our first romantic moment at my place. I actually understand the concept of cleaning and straightening.”
    “I’m thrilled. If you can cook, too, we might begin to have an understanding.”
    “I’m a great cook.” He took my hand again. “You tell me what you like, I’ll make it for you.”
    “Your second strong argument. I’ll try to focus on your strengths while you race us back to the freaking men’s room at the airport.” I made sure everything was off and locked.
    “We could go to the one in the ladies’. Saguaro International actually does have a ladies’ room gate, and I don’t mind at all,” he said with his widest grin yet.
    “You really aren’t clear on the concept of quitting while you’re ahead, are you?” We left the apartment, and I locked the door. I wondered when I’d see it again.
    “Hey, I fed your fish.”
    “So, supposedly, did Christopher. They’ll probably die from overfeeding now.”
    “I’ll help you through your bereavement.”
    “You’re a prince.”
    Martini opened his mouth, then slammed it shut. He seemed to be listening, but I couldn’t hear anything.
    “What is it?”
    “One of the people who checked on you earlier was your landlord?”
    “Yes. Nice people. Paranoid, but nice.”
    “That’s it. What apartment are they in?”
    “Why?”
    “We’re right here. Let’s have you go reassure them you’re okay.”
    “Suddenly you’re all about the caring of what my friends, family, and extended circle think?”
    “That’s me. Let’s go visit your landlord. You’ll be glad we did, trust me.”
    “Not yet, but maybe I will in a few years.” We walked downstairs, and I knocked on the landlord’s door.
    It opened a crack. “Katherine?”
    “Hi, Mr. Nareema. Just wanted to let you know I was okay.”
    “I saw you on the news. You were very brave.” At least Christopher hadn’t made me look like a dork, insofar as Mr. Nareema was concerned anyway.
    “Thanks, it was sort of instinctual, not planned.”
    “I understand. There have been people in your apartment. Men. In matching suits.” Mr. Nareema sounded frightened. Then again, he always sounded frightened.
    “I know. They were from the government.”
    He gasped. “Do we need to flee?”
    “No, no,” I reassured quickly. The Nareema family had had to flee their homeland and still weren’t over it. I’d never gotten the full why out of them, mostly because it was hard to talk to any one of them for more than five minutes without feeling like a total paranoid yourself. “They’re good government. Protecting us. They wanted to make sure everything was safe here.”
    “It is,” Martini said, with, I had to admit, a very charming smile.
    “Good.” Mr. Nareema didn’t sound convinced. “Take care, Katherine. Call if you … need help.”
    “Thanks, I will.” We backed up a step, and the door closed. Several locks were turned. Martini and I walked down the hall. “That was fun.”
    “He sounds like he feels a little better,” Martini said.