Read Online The Admiral and the Wildcat: Scifi Alien Romance by Mina Carter - Free Book Online
Authors: Mina Carter
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the midnight oil to put cases together and erratic schedules to get to courts on different planets within the Alliance had ensured he didn’t need much sleep. Which was a bonus right now since it meant that he was wide awake after less than a couple of hours of sleep to watch the sleeping woman at his side as the sun came into view around the planet below.
Automatically the windows adjusted, darkening slightly to protect them from any harmful rays. It rendered the cool blue light of this particular sun a soft yellow that clung to Kelis’ curves like molten gold as it slid over her skin.
She was sprawled out, blonde hair a halo around her on the pillow. He marvelled at how someone so small could take up so much room. Asleep, he realised just how tiny and delicate she was. As if the force of her formidable personality made her appear bigger when she was awake.
And she looked damn good in his bed. All sleek toned muscles and inked skin. Propped on his elbow, he took the time to study her. Her tattoos were confined to her arms, but he knew that was common for her species. Far from the rebellious or random nature of some species’ tattoos, like humans, Saragosian ink was specific and the location was important. Each line and swirl meant something and to have a tattoo in places not allowed by custom was unthinkable.
His gaze swept down her arms. The black swirls and loops were tightly packed, the delicate designs making it look like her arms were covered with lace. They weren’t. Instead, he was looking at her life story, etched into her skin for all to see, if they could just read it. He’d never wanted to learn another language so much in his life as he did right then, wanting to know all her secrets. Wanting nothing about her kept from him at all.
Saragosian was a language that took years to learn though, so he concentrated on what he did know. They marked their lives in ink, but civilians marked theirs in a rainbow of colours. Only warriors were allowed to wear black ink…
Kelis’ arms bore no other colour. So his little Wildcat had been a warrior from the moment she’d been born; a veteran of their near millennia-old conflict with a sister race. He itched to reach out and smooth a hand down her sleek side, but knowing she was a warrior born and bred made him keep his touch to himself. He hadn’t missed the fact she’d slid a dangerous-looking trench knife under the pillow before she’d gone to sleep and he’d seen how fast she could move. No, best to let sleeping warriors lie…
But he couldn’t help wondering what her life had been like. He’d spoken to a few Saragosian warriors in the past, all male, and they’d told tales of hard childhoods in trenches before being sent to the front line prior to eleven years of age. Something twisted hard in Gabe’s gut as an image of a younger Kelis came to mind—one dressed up in combats that were too big for her and carrying one of their massive pulse rifles. The damn thing would almost have been the same size. His gaze wandered over her skin again. Saragosians didn’t scar either, so he had no clue if she’d ever been badly hurt…maybe even nearly killed.
Fuck…he dropped his head to the pillow. This was deep stuff. He’d barely known her two days and already the thought of her being hurt almost had him unravelling on the spot.
The chirp of the comm in the other room caught his attention and he rolled to his feet. Instantly, Kelis opened an eye that went from unfocused with sleep to sharp and alert within a millisecond, her hand bunched under the pillow.
“Shhh,” he smiled down at her. “It’s just a call. Go back to sleep.”
She nodded, closing her eyes and, right there in front of him, he watched her fall asleep again within a second. Unreal. Shaking his head, he padded into the other room in bare feet. He’d snagged his pants on the way and hauled them on, hopping from one foot to the other in front of the desk in the corner of the main room
Automatically the windows adjusted, darkening slightly to protect them from any harmful rays. It rendered the cool blue light of this particular sun a soft yellow that clung to Kelis’ curves like molten gold as it slid over her skin.
She was sprawled out, blonde hair a halo around her on the pillow. He marvelled at how someone so small could take up so much room. Asleep, he realised just how tiny and delicate she was. As if the force of her formidable personality made her appear bigger when she was awake.
And she looked damn good in his bed. All sleek toned muscles and inked skin. Propped on his elbow, he took the time to study her. Her tattoos were confined to her arms, but he knew that was common for her species. Far from the rebellious or random nature of some species’ tattoos, like humans, Saragosian ink was specific and the location was important. Each line and swirl meant something and to have a tattoo in places not allowed by custom was unthinkable.
His gaze swept down her arms. The black swirls and loops were tightly packed, the delicate designs making it look like her arms were covered with lace. They weren’t. Instead, he was looking at her life story, etched into her skin for all to see, if they could just read it. He’d never wanted to learn another language so much in his life as he did right then, wanting to know all her secrets. Wanting nothing about her kept from him at all.
Saragosian was a language that took years to learn though, so he concentrated on what he did know. They marked their lives in ink, but civilians marked theirs in a rainbow of colours. Only warriors were allowed to wear black ink…
Kelis’ arms bore no other colour. So his little Wildcat had been a warrior from the moment she’d been born; a veteran of their near millennia-old conflict with a sister race. He itched to reach out and smooth a hand down her sleek side, but knowing she was a warrior born and bred made him keep his touch to himself. He hadn’t missed the fact she’d slid a dangerous-looking trench knife under the pillow before she’d gone to sleep and he’d seen how fast she could move. No, best to let sleeping warriors lie…
But he couldn’t help wondering what her life had been like. He’d spoken to a few Saragosian warriors in the past, all male, and they’d told tales of hard childhoods in trenches before being sent to the front line prior to eleven years of age. Something twisted hard in Gabe’s gut as an image of a younger Kelis came to mind—one dressed up in combats that were too big for her and carrying one of their massive pulse rifles. The damn thing would almost have been the same size. His gaze wandered over her skin again. Saragosians didn’t scar either, so he had no clue if she’d ever been badly hurt…maybe even nearly killed.
Fuck…he dropped his head to the pillow. This was deep stuff. He’d barely known her two days and already the thought of her being hurt almost had him unravelling on the spot.
The chirp of the comm in the other room caught his attention and he rolled to his feet. Instantly, Kelis opened an eye that went from unfocused with sleep to sharp and alert within a millisecond, her hand bunched under the pillow.
“Shhh,” he smiled down at her. “It’s just a call. Go back to sleep.”
She nodded, closing her eyes and, right there in front of him, he watched her fall asleep again within a second. Unreal. Shaking his head, he padded into the other room in bare feet. He’d snagged his pants on the way and hauled them on, hopping from one foot to the other in front of the desk in the corner of the main room
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