Take Her to HeVan (Nephilim Book 6) (4 page)

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Authors: Lucy Kelly

Tags: #women erotica, #multiple partners, #scifi menage, #other worldly, #fantasy scifi, #menage scifi, #supernatuarl, #womens fiction

BOOK: Take Her to HeVan (Nephilim Book 6)
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When the door to the UCV—unidentified crashed vehicle

which was how she began to think of it because where the hell were the wheels, closed after they had moved out of the way, she wasn’t very surprised, especially after all the fancy stuff she’d seen. What shocked her to her toes was what happened when they cleared the barn. The shuttle seemed to shimmer and then it disappeared right in front of her eyes.

“What the hell?”

She was about to go back to try to touch it when the man groaned. She was reminded of her priorities; there would be time in the morning to figure out what was going on with the UCV. If this were what the military was coming up with these days…she didn’t complete that thought. Karlo groaned again and she tried to pick up the pace. She wanted to get him into her grandfather’s bed.

Stumbling along the path with Rusty keeping pace beside her, she made her way carefully back to the house. Over and over again, she was amazed at the sled. When she passed over an obstacle, like debris outside the barn, the sled rose up to adjust.

“This is some high tech toy you’ve got here, Tech Officer Karlo,” she said, giving him the title the computer had told her. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer, as he had stopped groaning. She hoped the computer was correct in its diagnosis. She also hoped the distress signal brought help fast. Going up the porch steps was easy with the sled adjusting for each one; she only needed to use a little pressure with her hand to guide it over the porch and through the door. She had to put the shotgun down to open the door because she was worried if she let go of the sled controls, he would fall down.

Carefully, she made her way to her grandfather’s bedroom. He’d lived for the last fifteen years on the first floor because of worsening mobility issues. Marla figured he’d prefer not having to go up and down stairs with a headache. When she got to the bedroom, she was glad she’d kept the bed made up with sheets and a comforter, just in case it was too hot upstairs and she wanted to spend a night downstairs. The old farmhouse didn’t have air conditioning and even though they were having a cool spring, summer was going to be scorching.

Once she got him into the room, she ran into a problem. Whenever she pulled the sled over the bed, it automatically rose up so his dangling feet didn’t touch the covers.

“This damn thing needs to come with a manual,” she said as she began to play around with the controls at the end of the pole.

It rose up and then lowered. When she thought she’d gotten it as close to the bed as she could, she went to turn it off. Before she hit the switch, she left him hovering and pulled the blankets off the bed. Pressing the button on the second pole, the sled stopped hovering and the man fell the last few inches without waking up or even making a sound.

“Crap! He’s still hanging off the end of the bed. Why do you have to be so damn big?” she asked him.

She was tired. Glancing at the clock, she knew she’d have to be up in a couple of hours.

Climbing up behind him, she took hold of his uniform collar and slowly pulled him up. As she did, she realized there was no way he was going to fit in her grandfather’s queen sized bed, at least not normally. She kept tugging and was able to get him all onto the mattress by putting him on the diagonal from corner to corner. By the time she pulled the sled out from under him and propped it by the door, she was exhausted. She wanted to go upstairs and sleep; only she didn’t think she should leave him alone. Going back to the front, she retrieved the shotgun and brought it into the bedroom. After propping it up next to Gramp’s Lay-z-Boy, she took a blanket down from the closet shelf and lay back in the recliner.

Rusty curled up on the floor between the bed and the chair. Within minutes, they were all asleep. Rusty dreamed of chasing squirrels, Karlo was too deeply unconscious to dream, and Marla dreamed of Karlo and a future different than the one she had been worrying over.

What she didn’t know was the computer never sent the distress signal. It had been damaged too thoroughly in the crash landing and the previous manipulations of its systems. The remaining power sent pulses into a dead circuit, too damaged even to realize it was damaged. No help would be coming for the Nephilim warrior without any memory.

Chapter Two

 

The next time Karlo awoke, everything was wrong. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling…it was wrong. He didn’t know what was wrong, though. Weren’t most ceilings white? Was the color giving him a sense of wrongness or something else? Moving his eyes down and around the rest of the room, everything seemed wrong, and he didn’t know why. It was the not knowing why, more than the sense of wrongness, which bothered him. He should know why.

An animal came to the doorway and then trotted over to where he lay. He forced his brain to think and the word ‘dog’ popped in. Only this dog looked wrong, too. Damn! Thinking made his head hurt, so he stopped trying to make sense of things. A mound of covers in the chair opposite the bed moved, snagging his attention. The covers fell away from her head and revealed her face; he didn’t recognize her.
Was he supposed to recognize her
? Nothing in the room seemed familiar to him and yet he knew he was in a bed and the woman was in a chair. He knew it was a dog, though there was something about the animal that didn’t seem right to him. Everything was wrong.

The odd proportions of the room, the light coming in from the covered viewport, the color of the bulkheads, it was all strange to him and yet familiar at the same time. Why couldn’t he remember why it was wrong? The woman in the chair, why was she in the chair when he was in the bed? He tried to get up and pain screamed through his body. Oh, that explained a few things, he was ill. He now had more questions.

At the same time, his attention kept returning to the sleeping woman. Who was she to him? She was covered with a blanket. He could only see short blond hair and part of her face, just enough to prove she was female. From the size of the body he saw outlined under the blanket, he wondered if she were a child. Why would a child be sleeping in the chair?

He shifted to get in a more comfortable position and discovered a more comfortable position didn’t exist for him. Various aches and pains made themselves felt and he barely held back a shout. A cold sweat broke out on his face, neck, and down his shoulders, as he did his best to breathe through the muscle spasms racking his body. The dog approached the edge of the bed and licked his hand. He must have made a sound because the woman in the chair began to stir.

Blinking her eyes, Marla yawned and started to stretch her arms up to work out the overnight kinks from sleeping in a chair. When she sat up, the covers slipped to her lap and the recliner began to close up. As soon as she noticed the man in the bed watching her, she snapped alert. Instantly, memories of the night before flooded her brain. Grabbing at her blanket, she started to pull it up and then stopped. It’s not like she was wearing something revealing. She was more covered now than when she went out on a hot day.

Karlo wanted to say something to break the silence and make the woman answer him. He needed to hear the voice that went with the package he could see. This was no child. She may be small in stature, but her body had soft womanly hills and valleys he suddenly longed to explore. He moved his eyes away from her to calm his rapidly hardening erection. Noticing the weapon leaning against the small table next to her chair, he spoke.

“Are you planning on shooting me?” he asked, gesturing to the shotgun with one hand.

“That depends on you, Karlo,” she said, giving him a look any man who’d ever been in trouble would have recognized.

Karlo settled into the pillow.
Karlo

it didn’t seem wrong. She knew him. Her voice flowed over him like water; he could listen to her smooth tone all day. Her voice splashed and tumbled over his senses, like listening to a stream splash and tumble over rocks. He was happy to remain just where he was. The only improvement would be if he had her lying in the bed next to him so he could touch her. His head was pounding and he knew there was an urgency riding him, as if there were something he needed to do. The more he tried to think, the harder it was to think…of anything.

“You called me Karlo…you know me; and yet, you feel it necessary to have a gun in my presence. I’m having some trouble remembering things. What’s your name? For that matter, what’s my name? Why am I in the bed and you’re in the chair? My head hurts; what happened?” he asked, lifting a hand to his temple.

Wait a minute, he had amnesia?

She should have told him the truth, of course she should have told him the truth. But something took over her mouth and suddenly she was spewing a bunch of words that she should have thought through first. In that split second, the weird dream she’d been having combined with her predicament and had her blurting out a lie.

“You’re my fiancé, Karlo Darvik. You had an accident when you showed up last night. You have a concussion; that’s why your head hurts,” she told him, amazed she actually said all that with a straight face.

Of course, this was all her grandfather’s fault, him and his stupid will! During the night, when she was watching Karlo sleep, Marla had wished he were here for her and not because of an accident. She dismissed it because it was crazy, nuts! Who was this desperate? She was. So she had blurted out her lies and he’d fallen for them.

Karlo was confused, “Then what’s with the gun and why aren’t you in bed with me if we’re engaged?”

“I wasn’t expecting you; when I heard a crash, I grabbed the shotgun. I’ve been having problems here on the ranch; that’s why you were planning to take time off work early to help me out. I didn’t get in the bed for a couple of reasons. First off, ours is an arranged marriage. I need a husband on a deadline and your green card is about to expire. Then, you got hurt on the way here. I put you in Grandpa’s bed down here instead of upstairs. Finally, I also didn’t get in your bed because we’re strangers. What we have is practically a business deal. I’m not going to hop into bed with you until and unless we fall in love,” she tacked on at the end.

Oh my, these lies were falling fast from her lips and she had no clue what she was going to do when the truth came out. She would worry about it later. For a second, she was sorry about the no sex thing; he was a truly fine specimen of manhood. After being burned by Jake the Snake, she was being extra cautious with her heart.

“When are we getting married?” he asked.

He could feel his body reacting to her and couldn’t wait to peel that oversized man-shirt from her body. He kept himself in check by telling himself the abstinence would be temporary.

“We were supposed to get married last Saturday, but we put the wedding on hold until we signed the pre-nup. I need to protect my land,” she said.

She then proceeded to relate the story of her relationship with Jake and how it had blown up. She related how her trust had been abused in the past and she was unwilling to take a second leap of faith. She was already starting to feel guilty for taking advantage of this poor man. Yep, her life was going to hell in a hand basket and her mouth was plowing the way. What was that her gram always said about spiders and webs of lies? Well, she hadn’t woven a web—maybe a hammock and working on the matching swing set.

She was going to have to make notes about her lies if this were going to work
, she thought. Damn, that was pathetic but since her conscience wasn’t working and her greed was in control, she was going to have to deal with it. Even though her grandfather’s attorney had disagreed with her grandfather putting the marriage stipulation in his will, it was still there and making her life even more difficult. Now it was turning her into a criminal. She hoped her grandfather was spinning in his grave.

Having the pre-nup in place would protect the ranch when he got his memory back and asked for a divorce. After all, that was why she was doing this, right? She already regretted her deception and hoped the look of interest in his eyes didn’t turn to hatred. She tried not to feel like she was whoring herself out for her future, but let’s be honest, she was. At least he was the hottest looking guy she’d ever seen. Still, she planned to marry him fast and then put off having sex by one method or another. She couldn’t go that far, she wouldn’t do that, to either of them. She made a mental note to ask her grandfather’s attorney about divorce versus annulment and what it would mean about the will.

Part of her wanted to rush the wedding, tell him the truth and just ask for his help. It probably wouldn’t work, her asking, but she could have tried. Damn it, her conscience was kicking in big time now, and she was realizing how pathetic she was.

She remembered the distress signal; they’d have to get married before his rescue arrived. She wouldn’t have time to get to know him, time she didn’t have.
He’s going to remember his name and leave. He doesn’t love me.

“I’m sorry you’ve been treated so badly in the past and I’m pleased you’re willing to take another chance. This Jake you speak of didn’t deserve you. A man who would betray a woman has no honor,” he said.

What he didn’t say was how bothered he was about not being able to remember this beautiful woman.
How could anyone ever betray her?

“I would have postponed the wedding until we could get to know each other better, except for my grandfather’s will. There isn’t time to meet someone else. I’m not going to lose this ranch because my grandfather thought women were incapable of running one! So we’re going to get married and you’re signing the pre-nup,” she snapped.

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