Enemy of the Alien Bride Lottery Margo Collins (english love story books txt) 📖

Giving it a minute or so to make sure no one returned, I glanced down the corridors, then scurried to the door, opened it, and slipped inside, dropping Wex’s wristcom on a nearby desk. With any luck, he’d assume he left it there earlier.

The wristcom would have been useful to keep, but I was too likely to get caught with it. No, better to let the gorgeous green (hot, kissable, so damn sexy, my mind interjected before I shoved it back down) alien find it in a plausible place.

I moved to a computer terminal out of view of the doorway. I wouldn’t be able to see anyone coming that way, but they wouldn’t be able to see me, either.

“God, I hope this works,” I muttered as I keyed open the first of the two files Roya had sent. My own wristcom projected the image above my arm, and the file opened like a flower unfurling, a set of instructions scrolling past.

“Slow down, slow down.” Scrolling back, I tapped in the codes in the order the instructions gave. I didn’t know where Roya got her information, but her sources were solid—within a minute, I was logged into the Khanavai system.

It took even less time to upload the second file she’d attached, though my heart was pounding so hard the whole time that it seemed like longer.

“There,” I murmured aloud. “Done.”

I hoped the spyware garnered useful information for Roya and her resistance—because if I had my way, I was out.

That’s the last thing I’m going to do for them, I promised myself.

I started to log out of the system again but then paused, my curiosity getting the better of me.

I wonder how much information the system has about Wex Banstinad?

This was a stupid idea. I knew it was. But Wex worked here. He was the communications officer for the Bride Games, and maybe even for the whole station—I hadn’t really been paying attention earlier when he’d explained his job to me. At the very least, though, he had access to all the records, including mine, I assumed.

It’s not fair for him to have so much information on me when I have so little on him.

I took another couple of minutes to track down a file on him—his personnel file, so probably nothing terribly exciting, but it soothed my pride to have found it—and downloaded it to my wristcom to examine later.

As I finished, I took a quick glance around the room.

Nothing else useful here.

Moving back to the door, I checked the hallway to either side, slipped out, and closed the door behind me.

Sweat slicked down my back as I turned around to make sure the door had locked. I hadn’t realized how nervous I had been.

Then, for the second time that day, Wex’s voice echoed down the hallway behind me. “What are you doing here…again?”

Chapter Fourteen

Wex

Deandra managed to look even guiltier this time than she had the last time I caught her outside the control room door—and I would have said that was impossible.

Then again, maybe I simply wasn’t very good at reading human expressions, despite having grown up watching the Bride Games and having worked on them for some time now.

“Hey,” she said, her voice cracking on the word. “I was just looking for you.”

That had to be a lie, right? The last time I saw her, she had been angry with me for kissing her. The last thing I would have expected was for her to search me out. “You were?”

“Yeah. I wanted to…” She paused and bit her lip, casting her gaze downward. “Listen. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry earlier. After you—you know, kissed me?”

“I remember. So why did you try to open the door?” I took a few steps toward her, closing the distance between us, but she backed away, only pausing when I reached past her to touch the control pad.

The door was firmly locked.

“I thought I saw a light on. But when I tried to open the door, the light went out.” Deandra gave a little shrug. “But anyway, here you are. So I don’t have to try to track you down.”

She stepped back in toward me, staring up at me with those luminous brown eyes of hers. She still wore the makeup from the Bride Pageant, but she had changed back into her normal streetwear: stiff blue fabric pants—something the Earthers called denim? Or maybe genes? Though I didn’t understand why they would give their clothing a biological term as a name.

She also wore a form-fitting shirt made of a soft fabric that molded to her body I had to fight an urge to run my hands down her sides, to feel her slight curves under the clothing.

She must have seen something in my gaze because her breath caught in her throat, and she took a half step back.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Isn’t it after-hours for you?”

“I think I might have left my wristcom in here earlier.” I held my hands up around my eyes to cut the reflection and peered inside the room. “Yes, there it is.”

“Really? Is that something you do a lot—leave your wristcom lying around?” Deandra’s voice sounded a little too bright, but when my gaze flickered toward her, she was also leaning up against the door, staring inside. “Oh, there it is. I see it.” She uncupped her hands. “So can you go in to get it now?”

“No. I’ll wait until tomorrow morning’s shift and pick it up then.”

“Well, okay,” she said, shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “I guess that’s all I wanted—to apologize to you. I should probably get back to my room if I’m going to get any sleep before whatever tomorrow’s circus is supposed to be.”

I frowned. “Circus?” My translator rendered the Earther word for me. “You think the Bride Games are an animal show?”

She snorted a short, harsh laugh. “Well, they are, aren’t they? I mean, they put us