When Dawn Breaks

The alien, Lucifer, didn't just bear an uncanny resemblance, and the name, of a demon of ancient lore, everything about him-from his wings and horns, to the red skin and his 'forked' tail, to his ability to 'enthrall'-screamed that the legends arose from his people who had to have visited Earth in their distant past.

 

Published: 11/2007
Length: Mid Novel
Word Count: 64,035
Genre: Science Fiction/Futuristic Romance
Rating: Spicy/Erotic.
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)

MMD30614

 

WHEN DAWN BREAKS
By
Kaitlyn O'Connor

 

© Copyright by Kaitlyn O'Connor, November 2007
© Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, November 2007
ISBN 978-1-60394-
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

 

If he’d been kicked in the gut, Lucifer thought with a mixture of fury and disbelief he carefully concealed, he did not think it could more effectively have knocked the breath from him than the question lodged at him by the group of scientists studying him with the same clinical detachment they would have felt for a fungus.

All of them, that is, except for the woman—Nicole.

As usual, she was struggling hard to pretend she was somewhere else, or part of the furnishings in the Spartan room where they held him.

She was keenly aware of him, though, maybe more aware of him than any of the others, as hard as she tried to pretend that wasn’t so.

Curious to know if the question had stunned her as much at it had him, he allowed his gaze to wander over her assessingly—or tried. He found it difficult to maintain any sort of detachment when he looked at her.

It was hard to pinpoint what it was about her that made that impossible when it shouldn’t have been.

He was sure he should have found the pale, wingless creature unappealing if not repulsive. He would have, he thought, if he had only been told about one such as her.

That had not been the case, though—unfortunately.

Despite all reason, from the moment he had first set eyes upon her he had been—fascinated with her.

Obsessed might have been more accurate and that had been a purely physical reaction. The longer he studied her, though, the stronger the pull. Nothing had lessened the primal desire for her—not the pain and humiliation they inflicted on him, not her determination to ignore him or at least keep her distance—but the more he observed her, learned about her, the stronger the invisible chains that coiled around him until he could no longer discount it as purely physical. Unfortunately, as much as he would have liked to deny it, the attraction was on both a physical and an intellectual level.

She was tiny, wingless, fragile, and so pale her skin seemed almost translucent, as speckled as a tynal egg—he had no idea why just looking at her was enough to make it nearly impossible for him to drag his mind from thoughts of claiming her, but so it was, and no amount of reasoning would banish the thoughts, and nothing she had done had even served to lessen what had quickly become an obsession.

It wasn’t just his interest in her that appalled him. Under other circumstances he wouldn’t even have questioned it. He was a man—she was a woman—an exotic creature unlike any he’d ever seen before—and it had been a long time since he had had any opportunity to assuage his needs—a very long time.

It was his inability to focus on anything else when she was near him that disturbed him when, at the very least, he shouldn’t have been able to dismiss the disaster from his mind even if he could have dismissed his personal circumstances. “I will demonstrate—with her,” he responded finally, mostly, he thought, to see how she would react—if he could get a reaction out of her at all.

Or perhaps not, he thought ruefully when she lifted wide, pale blue eyes to meet his gaze for the first time—ever.

Once, he thought, it would take only once and she would be his—and she would not be able to deny it.

Then, maybe, he would be able to gain a little perspective.

Nicole had been doodling on the pad she’d brought to make notes on, trying, without a great deal of success, to present an outward appearance of cool scientific objectivity in the subject under discussion—the sexuality of the Saitren, an alien race from a world he called Nadryl—but at that announcement she lifted her head with a jerk of surprise. For a handful of seconds, she met the gaze of the alien chained to the wall on the other side of the room, noted with an uncomfortable gallop of her heart rate that he was staring directly at her, and then looked around the room uncertainly, wondering who he was planning on ‘demonstrating’ with. Discovering that every eye in the room was now focused speculatively on her, she felt a heated blush begin in her face until her cheeks felt as if they were glowing.

The realization that he’d meant her hit her between the eyes like a hammer blow, undeniable once it sank into her head that he’d been looking straight at her when he’d said it, and everyone, except her, had grasped that immediately.

In vain, she waited for her fellow scientists to veto the suggestion—to scoff, express outrage.

She realized after a few moments that they were waiting for her response.

No—more accurately, she could see from the speculation in their eyes and the expectancy on their faces that they were wondering what she might have done to prompt the suggestion to start with and waiting for her to accept the ‘scientific’ challenge.