Alien Romance: Desired By The Alien Boss: A Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Rusneon Mates Book 2)

Desired By The Alien Boss

Ashley Hunter

 Copyright 2015 by Ashley Hunter

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced

in any way whatsoever, without written permission

from the author, except in case of brief

quotations embodied in critical reviews

and articles.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First edition, 2015

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Chapter 1

There was a can of worms, open and writhing, deep within her stomach when Andrea found herself shooed in within the office of her newest job.

Despite this being the third job she had been contracted for the past three months, she still couldn’t say she was anywhere close to being used to the whole process. It was maddening how exhausting her nerves made her during these moments, but Andrea was anything but a quitter. It was both a good and bad thing at times.

The temp agency had only been kind enough to give her a brief outline of what this new job was looking for—young, vivacious, clean, orderly, can multitask, handle many things at once, etc.—and a date for an interview.

Andrea had been pleased to know that she could carry all the requirements out without a problem and began to wonder what small little office she would be working in this time. Oh, how mistaken she had been.

When she had arrived, in her best skirt suit, she had gaped at the immense skyscraper and glanced back at the directions on her smartphone. Several times she had wondered if she had gotten the address wrong, or that her phone had some sort of a glitch, or something, as she approached her destination. So when she stood in front of the large building, with its pristine windows and impressive foyer, Andrea was short of being convinced she had gotten it all wrong.

Nervously, she had approached the pointy nosed woman sitting at the reception desk, wincing when her shoes made a particularly large scuff mark in the gleaming marble floor.

One question, one distressing sharp scrutiny, and one huffy point in the direction of the elevators later, Andrea was well on her way to the very top of the building. The very air smelled important in the place where she was, and just as the elevator let out a pleasant
ding
did Andrea realize that she had a stain on her blouse.

The doors opened and Andrea found herself in a very spacious office space. It was tall and gleaming and covered in people dressed in lab coats and fashionable business suits. All too suddenly did Andrea wish she had stayed at home and remain in a safe place, dressed in her sweats and munching on her cereal while her cat, Linus, played with a frayed hem from her pants.

This, Andrea believed, was uncharted territory and she was ridiculously unprepared. Still, her feet carried her in and before she knew it, she met a tall man who silently stared at her when she asked directions to “Mr. Uriel’s office.”

And just like that, she was thrown in the room and told to “just sit there and wait for Mr. Uriel to return.”

After a few minutes of waiting, Andrea felt her rapid heart rate steady into a pounding thrum, and her skirt was damp with the amount of times she had rubbed her sweaty palms over it.

When she couldn’t get enough of the silence, she pulled out her phone and instantly sent a message to her friend, Stephanie.

I’m going to die.
She wrote.

A few seconds later, she saw the little bubble of her friend writing back before a message appeared.

How bad is it?

Andrea’s thumbs flashed over the screen.
Not sure. Haven’t met my new boss yet.

Where are you?
Stephanie responded.

Downtown, by the library and metro.

Close to Orion Space Research Labs?

Andrea pursed her lips and pulled up the directions of the place. A little red pin landed right where the blue bubble that represented her position was located.

Right at the Space Research Labs.
Andrea replied.

Oh snap, who did you say you were working for?

Andrea didn’t really know.
I was only told the position. I’m going to be the assistant of the owner…?

OMG?!?!

She winced.
Is that bad?

No!! I mean, not really,
was Stephanie’s response.
It’s actually really cool, and I’m seriously kind of jealous! The owner is supposedly wickedly rich and super good looking. God you’re lucky.

The sudden information made Andrea nearly panic.
How good looking is this guy?

Super.

Dammit.
Andrea nearly slapped herself with her palm.

I’m sure you look great!
That didn’t exactly help, but she was grateful for her friend’s encouragement. Nevertheless, Andrea now felt incredibly self-conscious.

To her relief, there was a mirror over the waiting area of this office, and so Andrea took it upon herself to soften the blow.

The image in the mirror was less than pleasing to the eye. Hurriedly, Andrea stood before it and began to straighten her clothes and ponder at the stain on her blouse.

For a moment she considered unbuttoning a couple of the buttons, hoping that it would disguise the stain, but it would certainly expose the robust figure of her chest—the size of her breasts usually was a curse when making first impressions. Not that she was huge or anything, but she was aware of her
endowment
—and probably leave her with an odd first impression.

After a moment, she undid one button and felt satisfied that the stain was better hidden and her cleavage not as apparent. Her hair was another ill factor.

She had tied the long strawberry blonde locks of her hair into a loose bun behind her head, letting a few strands of her hair to frame her face. But now, her cheeks looked overly rounded, her dark blue eyes looked far too big and her forehead far too large.

Groaning, she yanked the rubber holding her hair back and let her hair down. She ran her fingers through her hair, cringed when her sweaty fingers tugged at a few knots, and tried to make sense of the mess on her head.

She wasn’t very successful by the time the door slid open.

Throwing her hands down to her sides, Andrea stifled a yelp, taking a few steps back to see who had stormed through the room so roughly. What she beheld made her jaw slam shut.

Super
didn’t appear to be enough for the level of attractiveness the man had. For a moment, Andrea believed that she had fallen over and hit her head, because the man who entered couldn’t possibly be real.

Dark locks of a curious shade of chestnut fell over his head in an unruly tussle that would’ve looked bad on anyone else. His skin was a deep shade of tan and his eyes were narrow but impressive with their stare. He was built like a swimmer beneath the white lab coat he wore, broad shoulders and slim hips over powerful legs appearing through the slit of the billowing white fabric.

Andrea would’ve kept staring, if she didn’t realize he had looked at her once before walking away. He sauntered off and disappeared behind another door within the room and for a moment, Andrea wasn’t sure whether or not to follow.

She didn’t have to wait long before he returned, ducked his head out and glared at her.

“Do you mind? I’ve got a lot of things to do.”

Andrea sputtered, “I… uh… what?”

He didn’t wait for her to catch up, because he was disappearing behind the door again, this time leaving it open. Andrea blinked several times before stumbling after, hurrying behind him and shutting the door behind her.

The room they entered in was tall, covered in all kinds of mechanical things that Andrea wasn’t sure she could name. It would have been dark save several high windows that were covered in a thin film of a curtain. The light of day filtered in gray pillars of filtered light, bouncing off some of the metal works around them.

The man stepped close to a large desk within the room, rolling the sleeves of his coat up to his elbows before he began rummaging within a drawer. He pulled out a long notepad and slapped it on the desk.

When he glanced up at her, it was in that same glare. It didn’t occur to her of their shade until she caught the color beneath the light of a nearby window. They were a deep shade of… violet?

“Are you going to stand there?” he spoke, his voice gruff, low, and annoyed.

“Or are you going to get to work?”

Andrea felt a jolt through her body and she hurried to close in the space between her and the desk. He motioned to the notepad on the desk with his chin as he tugged his hands in his pockets.

“You’ll be using that to take your orders. I don’t care much on how you write it out, so long as you get your work done.”

Just like that?
Andrea picked up the notepad, baffled. The man proceeded, leaning back in his stance to look at her from over his nose.

“The agency that recommended you said you were quick and smart, although that is yet to be seen, I’m hoping that some of that is true. I do not need a bumbling woman who is going to be staring at me because I am “nice to look at,”—I am aware of my features and what they do to women—I need a competent assistant who will be able to meet the needs of the job, and ensure that what I cannot handle is handled accordingly, agreed?”

“Ah…yes,” Andrea said, swallowing.

“I’m sorry, I was told this was… an interview?”

He raised a brow, “this is your interview. I will give you the rest of the day to take care of the duties I will put out for you. Fail in any of them, and you won’t need to come back tomorrow. How’s that?”

The blood flushed from her cheeks deep into a hole within her stomach, flushed away as though his words had pressed on some kind of lever that left her without any clever thought to retort with. She gave him a mute nod, unable to do much else.

He gave her a nod before he turned in the direction of one of the machines humming in the back of the room. It let out a low hum as he pressed a glowing blue button. She didn’t realize until then but all the machines had glowing blue edges or buttons.

“Very well,” he spoke again.

“I need you to head down to level 2, ask for the Sigma A schematics. Roland, the head scientist there, should be done with the latest tests on the Script Trials.”

As he spoke, Andrea scrambled to find a pen, digging in her pockets to pull out the writing tool and began writing as he spoke. He didn’t seem to note her abrupt movement or internal panic.

“Tell him I need him to file the results in the Hendrik folders as well to pass me the information of last months’ trial results.

“When you have those, I need you to head to level 5, and speak with Athena on whether or not we’re cleared for the board meeting with the other executives from Branch C. If not, tell her that I want it cleared by tonight.”

He paused to pull out a thin tablet from his pocket and turned it on. The gadget blinked to life, casting his face in a pale white glow.

“After that, head to levels 8 and 10, I need the numbers for the audits from the last project we were able to complete in Milan. If Herald isn’t there, tell Patricia to find me.”

He took wide steps towards the opposite side of the room, pressing buttons and looking at screens that displayed information that looked incredibly complicated.

Andrea nearly followed to watch as he tapped away at his tablet before swiping and making an image on the gadget appear on the wall. She gasped, awed when she realized that the wall wasn’t a wall, but rather a tall screen.

“When you’re done with that, I need you to run a diagnostics check on all the levels—make sure that Darnell in IT gets the latest bug in the system fixed, it’s making the font in the messaging boards disappear in some messages, and I am not happy with how the last memo got sent out.”

There was a short silence that followed after he paused over some of the information on the wall. Andrea waited with bated breath, her hand trembling after having furiously scribbled as much information as possible. She didn’t want to ask to clarify some of the information, for fear he’d throw her out in a second.

After another moment of standing, he peered over his shoulder and gave her an exasperated look.

“Now.” he huffed, making a shooing motion with his hand.

“Oh, right,” Andrea said.

“Sorry.”

With that she spun on her heels and began to walk toward the door.

“Oh, and Andrea.” Andrea slowed to a stop, turning to face the man. His expression was icy cold.

“Lose the shoes. If I see another black scuff mark on the floor I’m throwing you out.”

Flushing bright red, Andrea nodded before rushing out. She chucked her shoes under a desk that stood by the door. She was more than ready to walk around barefoot than to receive another glare like that from him.