Authors: Shelley Munro
Tags: #sci-fi romance, #aliens, #alien contact, #New Zealand
Richard, Hinekiri and Killer crowded around the porthole to take in the scenery.
“Whatz that funny animal?” Killer barked, her furry head darting from side to side as she tried to take in everything. “Lots of them.”
“That’s a wildebeest!” Hinekiri chirped in excitement, seconds before firing off her image machine.
Richard stared out the porthole while the ship passed over the savannah at cruising speed. “It’s beautiful.” His brown eyes glowed full of emotion. “Thanks for suggesting I visit with you. It’s amazing. I can’t wait to tell Luke about everything I’ve seen.”
“That’s great. I’m glad you’re enjoying the trip.” Hinekiri forced a carefree note even though a sudden melancholy hit her square in the ribs.
There was no future for them
. She had to remember that. It was obvious Richard believed this holiday was a temporary situation. They wouldn’t have the luxury of reminiscing together once they returned home since she needed to leave Earth to complete her assignment. Once again, the marriage sorcerer’s predictions had proved right—Hinekiri had bed partners but not a true mate. Why should this time be any different?
“Whatz that one with the long nose?” Killer barked.
“An elephant.” Richard turned to share a grin with Hinekiri but sobered when he noticed her expression. “Hinekiri, is something wrong?”
“No, nothing at all. Just a little tired.” This feeling sorry for herself had to stop. She was going to spoil their vacation if she didn’t snap out of this mood. In that moment, Hinekiri made a promise to herself. She would take each day one at a time and squeeze every bit of joy out of their time together.
Richard wanted to laugh at the purple dog because she was grabbing up visual souvenirs like a pro. Amusement flickered across his face in the form of a smile—he could feel it dig into his cheeks. If he were going for honesty, he wasn’t much better than Killer, trying to see all the sights at once. An elephant here. A giraffe there. “Oh my god. It’s a lion!”
Killer yipped, quivering with eagerness. “Where? Where lion?”
“Where? I can’t see it either.” Hinekiri grabbed Richard’s arm, demonstrating matching excitement.
“See the pile of gray rocks at two o’clock?” Richard gestured the lion’s direction with his left hand. “The lion is sitting on top of a rock.”
“I see. I see.” Killer barked right next to his ear. “More than one.”
Richard jerked away and rubbed his ears to clear the ringing. “Do you see the lion?”
“Oh Killer’s right,” Hinekiri chirped. “There are more lions sitting in front of rocks in the sun.”
“Where are we going to park the spaceship?” Richard decided he’d enjoy standing on firm ground again. His bones ached from their acrobatic loving, his butt was sore and the patch on his arm where the Torgon goo had hit was itchy. A soak in a bath sounded good about now. They could see more animals tomorrow.
“Lion move,” Killer said. “They go hunting soon.”
“I chose a lodge near the water so we could see the wildebeest crossing the river. It’s called the Sunset Lodge.”
Richard frowned, seeing all sorts of difficulties. “Why didn’t you make the spaceship your base? It would be cheaper for a start. Isn’t the management going to wonder which hole you’ve popped from if you turn up without any visible transport?”
Hinekiri turned to face Richard, closing one violet eye in a suggestive wink. “I adore mixing with the locals when I’m on holiday. It’s fun.”
Richard’s body went on hyperalert, his aches and pains forgotten while he chewed on the concept of mixing with locals. Hinekiri had done that all right. “As long as you don’t mix with every local,” he growled before he could stop the incriminating words.
A light gurgle escaped Hinekiri. “Don’t you worry, sailor. I haven’t done a ceiling rumba with a male for a long time. Haven’t found anyone I wanted to dirty dance with,” she added. “Until you.”
Another wink accompanied her words, creating a predictable reaction in Richard. Oh man.
Get ready to rumba.
He couldn’t help it since her words rang with truth.
“I don’t usually have problems with people wondering where I popped up from. They see my money and matching luggage, assume I’m eccentric and leave it at that. Besides, I have transport.”
He was almost too frightened to ask. Richard glanced out the porthole again and noted the sun was on its descent. An adventure. He’d look upon this as an adventure before he settled back down to being Richard Morgan—Sloan cop, father and board member—again. Settled being the operative word.
Killer remained glued to the porthole, eager to see everything. Richard scratched her behind the ears. Killer let out a blissful groan and leaned into him in a silent demand for more. “Wonder if animals talk? You know?”
“I’ve no idea. You should take care,” Richard cautioned. “They eat each other.”
“Talking wildebeest. Wouldn’t that be a hoot.” Hinekiri chuckled. “There’s a flat place over there and it’s near the road. Looks like a good landing spot to me.” She moved over to the pilot’s seat and buckled in. “You guys should buckle up too. Sometimes things get a little bumpy.”
Richard strapped in and grabbed Killer away from the porthole. There were wet nose prints all over the bottom portion. Hinekiri’s fingers darted over buttons on the control panel. Competent. Strange. Normally he preferred to sit in the driver’s seat but he didn’t mind Hinekiri taking control. Even the bedroom rumba hadn’t been that bad. Ah man! Who was he kidding? His cock did an impromptu dance beneath the red portion of his robe. The dance had been spectacular.
Richard didn’t need to hold on to anything during the landing procedure and the ship settled onto the chosen landing site without drama. He unbuckled and set Killer on the floor before standing to stretch his hands above his head, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment.
Hinekiri unbuckled and stood too. “The cloaking screen is working properly now.”
“Wow! Look at that!” Killer barked.
Richard’s eyes popped open, and he peered out the porthole to see what all the fuss was about.
Hinekiri sighed. “Pretty spectacular, huh?”
“Where? I can’t see anything.”
“Can’t see own behind,” Killer yipped. She barked and sounded like a rusty chainsaw.
Hinekiri bit her bottom lip. Richard took a moment to think about doing some biting himself before he realized the wretched woman was laughing, or trying not to, and it was something to do with him. The bloody dog was cackling as well. Richard attempted to look behind and when that didn’t work, he twisted his neck and yanked on his robe. “What the hell?”
“It’s the latest fashion on Dalcon,” Hinekiri chirped. “It looks good on you.”
“Hurt my eyes,” Killer barked. “Too much white.”
“It’s see-through. My butt is on display.” Richard advanced on Hinekiri, unsure whether to throttle her or kiss the merriment from those pouty pink lips. “Woman, I dress strictly for comfort. I am not an arbiter of fashion.”
“Yeah.” Hinekiri’s lips twitched as she attempted to control her amusement. “Maybe Richard has a little too much white going on for the strict fashion critic but we could fix that. How about a tattoo, something like mine?”
“A native one,” Killer suggested. “Marryori to cover red skid marks.”
“I have some grazes,” Richard corrected, holding on to his dignity for dear life. “And that would be Maori, but it won’t matter since I’m not letting anyone near my butt with a needle.”
“I hold hand,” Killer yipped. “Bite on arm to distract.”
“I’d kiss it all better,” Hinekiri purred. “That wouldn’t be a hardship.”
Richard knew when he was being ganged up on and directed the conversation to practicalities—his specialty. “How are we going to get to the lodge from here? What about luggage? We’re going to look strange without any. And what about clothes for me? I am not parading around flashing my butt.” Dammit, the conversation had traveled a full circle.
“I have other robes. Don’t worry, you won’t look out of place.” Hinekiri spoiled her reassurances with an evil grin that left Richard decidedly rattled. He never knew what was going to happen next—attacks from Torgon, talking animals, hot loving in anti-gravity rooms… Hell, the scope for embarrassment was immense. Richard inhaled, seeking calm. He had to admit, it was kind of fun despite feeling unbalanced and out of control almost eighty percent of the time.
“I ready. All packed,” Killer yapped. She plonked her bottom on the floor and eyed them in clear expectation.
“Do they do let dogs into the lodge?” Richard asked.
“I’m not sure but we’ll get around it somehow. The wee dog has had a rough time. She deserves some fun.”
“Still purple,” Killer grumbled. “Not fixed. How I attract dog friend when purple?”
Richard ignored the complaint, frowning at the idea of a pack of talking dogs. He followed Hinekiri to her chamber, despite her protests that he knew which direction to go. The woman wanted to check out his arse again. He wasn’t comfortable with anyone ogling his naked butt.
Ten minutes later, once Richard had exchanged robes, they assembled at the exit. Killer danced around their feet, yapping in a highly excited manner and generally getting in the way.
“Richard, can you take the bags down? Killer, you go with Richard while I sort out the transport.” Hinekiri pushed a button and the door slid open. At a touch of another button, stairs extended into position.
Richard picked up two soft bags, one of which was empty, since Hinekiri had suggested they purchase clothes for him at the lodge. He walked cautiously down the steps, glancing both left and right since he was aware they were in the middle of the African savannah with wild animals everywhere. Killer trotted at his heels, blissfully silent for once.
Hinekiri followed not long after, carrying a sturdy black bag that appeared to be made of some sort of metal because it glinted in the sun. “Here’s the transport. Glad I purchased it now, although it was a strain on the budget. I use it all the time.”
Right. The transport came in a suitcase. “You’re a witch. It’s a magic carpet.”
“Oh no. Magic carpets are way too expensive. Most are in museums or private collections these days. Besides, they were never a big hit on Dalcon. Too unreliable, taking off before the driver was ready to depart.”
Okay. He wasn’t going to say another word until he saw the transport. Common sense told him it would need to fit in on Earth so Hinekiri didn’t draw unwanted attention.
“Oh boy!” Killer jumped about, barking in excitement. “A Maximus 2000. What color?”
“Black and silver,” Hinekiri purred, stroking the suitcase with her left hand. She set it on the ground in front of Richard. “Stand back. You don’t want to get hurt. Killer! That means you too.”
Hinekiri pulled a small gadget from the jeans she’d changed into and pushed a button. Richard stared, eager to see what would happen next despite the trepidation laying at the bottom of his gut. “Old dogs love new tricks,” he muttered.
The case folded out like a flower and before Richard had time to blink, a silver-and-black three-wheeler motorbike stood in front of them. It had a tray piece out the back for luggage or shopping. At least he thought it was a motorbike. He approached warily in case the controls were faulty and it decided to pack up again. Instead, it erupted with a throaty roar.
Richard started and clapped his hand to his heart until his pulse rate slowed to normal.
Killer jumped on the small tray at the back and yipped impatiently, her tail wagging at least one hundred beats to the minute.
“The luggage goes on the back.” Hinekiri reached for the bags.
“I’ll do it.” Richard swung the two on the back beside Killer.
“Oh.” Hinekiri’s mouth formed and O of surprise.
Richard wondered if a man had ever helped her out before. To him, it was natural and plain good manners. “Is there some way to secure them?”
Hinekiri recovered quickly to push another button. A Perspex-like barrier whined up from inside a piece of silver trim. She hooked a strap over the bags before walking around to the front and straddling the bike. “Hop on behind.”
Gingerly, Richard lifted his robe to knee level and climbed on behind Hinekiri.
“Hold on tight,” she called over the noise of the machine.
Richard swallowed, wondering at the mischief in her voice. He grasped her shoulder.
The bike took off with a roar and Richard grabbed Hinekiri around the waist to avoid a tumble. Once again, his heart thudded in a crazy surge of panic. He heard Killer’s high-pitched yip—the one he’d learned spoke of the dog’s amusement. As usual, it was at his expense.
They roared along a dusty track with Hinekiri’s hair blowing wildly in his face. A plume of dust billowed out behind them and the roar of their engine startled any animals within ear range. A Cape buffalo jerked its head up and stomped its front feet in plain aggravation. Richard heard the alarmed calls of a herd of zebra and saw several jewel-colored birds lift off from the safety of an acacia tree.
In the distance, the lodge was visible, but only because he knew where to look. The architects had done an excellent job of blending the buildings with nature, with low, sprawling dwellings made of gray stone.
Killer barked and reached over to nip his butt. When Richard turned to tell her off, she jerked her head in the other direction. Warthogs! A grin sprang to his lips when he saw the pig-like animals running flat out, their tails sticking straight up in the air.
Hinekiri turned left onto the main track. It was less bumpy but the dust was about the same. It clung to his sweaty skin in a thin film. Even though he was uncomfortable, Richard knew he wouldn’t miss this experience for the world. Too bad if he was constantly off balance and worried—hell, terrified at times—about what the next minute might bring. He hadn’t felt this alive for months, maybe years.
Hinekiri roared through the gates of the lodge and pulled up outside reception in the parking area. She switched the engine off and blissful silence greeted his ears.
Once inside the lodge, Richard saw the grounds were full of lush plantings. Bright flowers and emerald-green grass surrounded the main low-sprawling building and restaurant in stark contrast to the scrubby grass, bushes and dust of the savannah.