Riv's Sanctuary: A Sci-fi Alien Romance, A.G. Wilde [phonics reading books TXT] 📗

didn’t take long before she found one that her fingers sunk into without breaking the skin.

Elated, she squeezed the fruit again. “Hey! I think I found one.”

The death-dog, Grot he’d called it, came closer and bumped her with its nose and she was sure she heard a grumble in the next row.

Looking his way, she found the alien was still moving down the row, ignoring her.

“Uh, I think I found one?” Her voice waned and her smile fell.

She wasn’t getting through to him.

She could almost laugh at her circumstances.

First, she’d been stuck behind a glass barrier with no one to speak to.

Now, she was outside that barrier and she still had no one to speak to because the one being in her presence didn’t want her there.

Beside her, a loud boom vibrated through the air as Grot…barked? It was such a deep sound, she stared at the animal, unable to comprehend how that sound could come from a living thing.

Yea, this was no chihuahua.

But the sound caught the alien’s attention.

With a grumble underneath his breath, he moved over to where she stood, his blue hand grasping the fruit she was holding, barely brushing over her fingers before she let go.

He paused as he squeezed the fruit before snapping it from the tree and walking away.

“Why, thank you, Lauren. You’re welcome, sir,” she murmured low as she followed him, but he continued on, either ignoring her or deciding not to respond.

She was pretty sure he heard her, even if he couldn’t understand what she’d said.

As they left the field, her bare feet treading in the path he made through the grass with his boots, the death-dog followed behind.

A yawn made her mouth spread wide.

She didn’t know how she was tired when she’d spent the day doing nothing.

She was more tired than she’d realized, actually.

Maybe finally sleeping properly for two nights in a row had her body wanting to catch up on months of lost sleep.

Looking upward, the sun was still high in the sky, though.

Stifling back another yawn, she followed Riv.

He headed to the enclosure with the cow-hippos next, closing the gate behind him. When he turned to face her, his brows were still beneath his shades.

Lauren fought back a smile.

He was so grumpy. There was no reason to be irritable, especially in such good weather.

He had no idea how lucky he was, living out on such a beautiful farm, free from aliens who wanted to rape or eat him.

Compared to where she’d been, this was paradise.

Leaning against the enclosure fence, the death-dog settled by her and she watched Riv work.

He began shoveling uneaten hay and grain while the animals mostly ignored him.

He moved with the efficiency of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“So,” she said, “you do all this work alone? No one to help you?”

Riv paused and looked her way.

His brows weren’t beneath his shades now but they were starting to go there the longer he looked her way.

It was almost as if he’d gone into his head while working and forgotten she’d been watching him.

“I couldn’t do all this work alone. I sucked at doing anything manual. Not that I didn’t try or anything.” She paused. “I worked in a bank back on Earth. I was an investment banker. But I guess we were alike, a little.” She smiled at him. “I farmed for great portfolios and interest rates. You farm for…” She tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what you farm for.”

Riv’s brows were beneath his brows now and she resisted a chuckle.

She was talking too much.

And, the funny thing about it was that, even though she knew he couldn’t understand her, she couldn’t stop speaking.

A year without having anyone to speak to had been torture. She realized that now.

For the most part, she’d talked to herself to keep from going crazy. But right now, she never valued the gift of conversation more—even if it was with a guy who clearly didn’t like her.

So she kept talking, lowering her voice so she wasn’t bothering him, and told him about her job back on Earth, of the clients she remembered, and her coworkers.

She told him of her parents and her friends, of her little two-seater car and her horrible neighbors.

Whatever came to her mind, she spoke about it and by the end of the day, when the sun began going down, she felt surprisingly fulfilled.

Talking was indeed therapy.

When Riv set his rake down and turned to look at her, brows still beneath his shades, she knew he’d had enough of her and it was time to go inside.

He moved toward the gate then, his eyes on her even though she couldn’t see them. She could feel them, though.

That intense gaze of his was locked on her.

He paused at the gate and gave her a long look and Lauren found herself swallowing hard.

Suddenly, his presence was overpowering.

When he’d been moving around the enclosure and not directly beside her, she could almost forget that he was the large, dangerous male that had opened her box and snarled at her.

But now that was coming back to her.

It was coming back to her really quickly, for in his silence there was danger lurking—a bit like how a snake could be silent and then launch itself at you suddenly.

Without a word, he exited the enclosure, slammed the gate shut and walked toward the main building.

She guessed she should follow him then?

14

Entering the main building, the dog trailing behind her, Lauren stepped into the corridor of the dwelling and headed to the front room where she’d held her host at gunpoint.

There was no sound other than her own movements through the space and, once again, she wondered where he’d disappeared to.

He didn’t seem to want to spend even a second longer than necessary in her presence.

But the fact that he left her alone to fend for herself must mean that he trusted her, right?…if even just a little. Either that or he just didn’t care what she did or