Conan: Stargazer Alien Mail Order Brides #8 (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Read online

  Conan

  Stargazer Alien Mail Order Brides (Book 8)

  Tasha Black

  13th Story Press

  Copyright © 2017 by 13th Story Press All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  13th Story Press PO Box 506 Swarthmore, PA 19081

  [email protected]

  Contents

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  Conan

  Conan

  1. Brooke

  2. Brooke

  3. Conan

  4. Brooke

  5. Conan

  6. Brooke

  7. Brooke

  8. Conan

  9. Brooke

  10. Conan

  11. Conan

  12. Brooke

  13. Brooke

  14. Brooke

  15. Conan

  16. Brooke

  17. Brooke

  18. Brooke

  19. Brooke

  20. Conan

  21. Brooke

  22. Brooke

  23. Brooke

  24. Brooke

  25. Conan

  26. Brooke

  27. Brooke

  Hawkeye (Sample)

  1. Trinity

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  Intergalactic Dating Agency

  About the Author

  One Percent Club

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  Packed with steamy shifters, mischievous magic, billionaire superheroes, and plenty of HEAT, the Tasha Black Starter Library is the perfect way to dive into Tasha's unique brand of Romance with Bite!

  Get your FREE books now at TashaBlack.com!

  Conan

  What do you do when the man of your fantasies is stealing into your dreams?

  Brooke Singleton is a highly skilled hand-to-hand combat trainer for the police academy. The cadets respect her, her friends adore her and her dream of running her own gym is coming true. But Brooke’s charmed life is fraying at the edges. Her nights are dogged by terrible nightmares of her military service. And a handsome stranger from another planet has arrived, stirring up her emotions with his every heated glance. And he isn’t satisfied with haunting her days, he’s taken to showing up in her dreams as well.

  Conan wants only one thing - for brave, beautiful Brooke Singleton to be his mate. But Brooke denies him at every turn. If it weren’t for the nights he visits her dreams, he wouldn’t even know that she craves him more than her next breath. And that would be a pity, because fulfilling Brooke’s wildest desires is all he can think about.

  When outside forces threaten Brooke’s home and gym, she and Conan must work together to protect the life she and her friends have built. Brooke will need a hand facing her fears if she wants to preserve what matters most. But can the broken warrior open her heart to let Conan help her?

  About the Stargazer Alien Brides series (Intergalactic Dating Agency):

  Collection 1 focuses on three couples in a small Pennsylvania town, featuring Bond, Rocky and Magnum.

  Collection 2 follows the story to a resort in the Catskills where three new couples meet and features Kitt, Remington and Indiana.

  Collection 3 continues the adventure with three new couples in a small-town police academy, featuring Lobo, Conan and Hawkeye.

  Conan

  1

  Brooke

  Brooke Singleton felt the night air on her bare shoulders.

  “You can open your eyes now,” the man said - a sexy voice, dark and gravelly, full of unspoken promises.

  Brooke did as he said.

  Above, the stars winked as if they were conspirators in some cosmic prank.

  And for all she knew, they were. Something was off.

  The unmistakable sounds of the city rode the breeze to her ear, a steady roar of traffic with intermittent shouts and honks. Yet she was standing in a lush garden, surrounded by life.

  Leaves shimmered on an ivy-covered wall, dancing in the breeze. Flowering tree branches swayed majestically, laden with heavy blossoms.

  The ball gown Brooke wore shimmered in the starlight.

  She had never worn a ball gown before, not even to her senior prom, which she and her best friend had crashed wearing jeans and t-shirts, much to her mother’s chagrin.

  She couldn’t understand why she wore one now. But she also couldn’t argue with its beauty.

  The dress had a beaded corset, which pushed her breasts up and out. Whisper-thin gossamer flowed down from the tapered waist to skim her toes.

  “Brooke.”

  She spun to see who had spoken. His voice was masculine, gentle, and somehow familiar.

  Why couldn’t she remember who he was or how she had gotten here?

  The gown swirled with her, caressing her thighs as it slid back into place.

  She spotted him - devastatingly handsome, and dressed like a British spy in a movie - wide shoulders, narrow hips, the collar of his white shirt practically glowing in contrast to his tan skin. His clean shaven jaw line and slicked back hair only accentuated the effect of the suit.

  But it was his eyes that captured her. In spite of his regal bearing, those expressive hazel eyes told her that she wasn’t his prisoner after all. Maybe he was hers.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  His voice sent tremors of desire through her and she felt suddenly naked under his gaze.

  She nodded slowly.

  Music began to play somewhere faraway, a slow waltz, all sighing violins and tinkling bells.

  The man smiled down at her and for the second time Brooke felt that she knew him.

  “Dance with me,” he said, offering her his arm.

  She took it, inwardly thinking how pleased her mother would be that the forced dance lessons were finally paying off.

  The familiar stranger pulled her into his arms and she forgot everything but the warmth of his large hand spanning her waist and his steady hazel gaze.

  Brooke closed her eyes again, trying to remember who he was.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  She opened her eyes once more and nearly swooned at his expression of restrained longing.

  He spun her as if she were light as air, then dipped her so low that her hair skimmed the ground.

  The lush scent of the flowers around them was intoxicating.

  He bent to brush her lips with his but paused an inch away, waiting until she closed the distance before teasing her with the feather light kiss. A rainbow of emotion swept over her in its wake.

  She waited for another kiss, lips parted.

  But instead, he lifted her by the waist like a doll and she looked down at him, supporting herself with her hands resting on his shoulders.

  Her body was singing more fervently than the violins. She wanted those big hands all over her, that sensual mouth on her breasts. He was right there, holding her, so close. If she just relaxed and enjoyed, the magic of the music and the moonlight would surely lead them where she yearned to go.

  But something wasn’t right.

  Something wasn’t right at all.

  He smiled up at her, spinning her gently.

  She squeezed his shoulders with the effort to force herself to figure out what was happening, instead of allowing herself to be hypnotized by his beauty.

  It was when she saw her own knuckles go white against his dark jacket that she realized what was wrong. She was resting weight on her bad
shoulder.

  Pain shot through her right arm like a bullet.

  She heard a horrible, animal moan and nearly turned her head to locate its source before she realized it was her own muffled shriek.

  “You’re okay,” the man told her soothingly. “I’ve got you, you’re fine.”

  But the sweet music had fallen into jangling discord and she smelled hot pavement.

  Somewhere beyond the trees, tires screeched.

  “Brooke,” the man called to her.

  But she had finally put it together.

  This was a dream. That was why her injury hadn’t stopped their dance.

  And of course the guy was Conan.

  Who else would it be?

  Brooke scrunched her eyes shut and begged herself inwardly to wake up.

  Please wake up, please, please, please…

  “Brooke,” Trinity’s low voice cut through the fog of the dream.

  Brooke opened her eyes into the real world.

  There was no lush garden, only her plain room. The charm of the high ceilings and Victorian woodwork was minimized by the thick coat of stark white paint. Brooke had never bothered to hang a picture or otherwise adorn the place.

  She was renting the building from the police academy, who had taken up new residence in the old monastery in the field beyond. One day she hoped to buy their building and restore its grace. But for now, she and her two roommates were just glad to have an affordable place to live in the quickly booming suburb. For now.

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Trinity asked.

  To her credit, Brooke’s friend always asked this after her nightmares, though the answer was always the same.

  “I’m good,” Brooke said, grateful that she’d never taken her up on the offer before. She’d much prefer to let Trinity believe it was another flashback she’d moaned about, not a fantasy about a tasty, off-limits guy.

  “Ice cream?” Trinity offered with a grin.

  “Yes, please,” Brooke agreed.

  The world was coming into focus again.

  She checked her bedside clock. It was already 4 AM and she had to be up at 5:30 anyway, not bad.

  “Please tell me you’re not thinking that you’ll just stay up,” Trinity said.

  “I’ve got to open the gym,” Brooke said, getting out of bed.

  “You and Veronica are nuts,” Trinity shook her head.

  Their third roommate, Veronica, trained police dogs and was up at the crack of dawn for that. Only Trinity, the IT specialist, could keep reasonable hours. Not that she did. But she could. And that was comforting somehow.

  “You ever think you’re the one with the strange schedule?” Brooke teased.

  “No,” Trinity said. “Definitely not.”

  They reached the landing outside the women’s suite. Trinity tiptoed past the men’s suite door and down the stairs.

  Brooke gazed at the door a moment and tried very hard not to picture Conan, the star of her dream, sleeping in there. Maybe he was shirtless, leaning back, those giant arms clasped behind his head, the sheet allowing a gorgeous view of his tight abs and a teasing glimpse at the line of hips angling toward…

  “Earth to Brooke,” Trinity whispered from the foyer below.

  “Coming,” Brooke whispered back, and headed down the stairs.

  She passed the old parlor, which was now used for kids’ karate classes and her own very impressive office. It had used to be the commanding officer’s study when this was the main academy building.

  The real training gym was down in the basement. Some forward thinking person had dug a full basement down there even though the place was built in the ‘20s. Most likely there had been some plan for the academy to use that space. Now Brooke had it set up to teach MMA fighting to the public, and any off-duty officers or cadets who were interested.

  She tried not to think about the fact that it was all set up for no reason now that Captain Henderson was forcing her to shut it down.

  “Are you guys having ice cream sandwiches without me?” Veronica’s voice floated down the stairwell. That girl had ears as good as one of her dogs. And she never missed the sound of ice cream.

  “Well not anymore we’re not,” Trinity said.

  “So much for our top secret middle of the night meeting,” Brooke teased, shaking her head.

  Veronica jogged down the stairs and they all headed back to the kitchen together.

  A lot was going wrong in her life, but Brooke still had her two best friends and a freezer full of premium ice cream sandwiches.

  That had to count for something.

  2

  Brooke

  Brooke gazed out at the line of cadets before her. Though they wore identical t-shirts and khakis, they were all unique people - tall and short, peach and brown, male and female. But they were standing in front of her to learn discipline, a trait that was not unique to any type of person, but which would make them a seamless team more than any shared culture or experiences could.

  “The first thing to know about hand-to-hand combat is that police officers should not be in physical confrontations in the first place,” Brooke said, letting her voice bounce off the back wall before continuing and hoping her words sunk in. “That is what all your other training is for. If you can deescalate the situation, talk them down, that is your goal. When the time comes that you must use what you learn from me, it will be because in that situation you have failed in your other coursework. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they echoed back.

  She made some version of the speech before every class. She hoped that if they heard it often enough in training, they would remember it once they got out in the field.

  “Good,” she said. “So, today we begin your study of what to do when using your words doesn’t work. You’re going to learn how to defend yourselves and not get your department sued for smacking someone in the head with a stick.”

  There was some muffled laughter, as she had expected.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” she said. “Someone did it.”

  They got quiet again.

  She had them in the palm of her hand.

  “Next,” she continued, “you don’t have to be the bigger, stronger one when it comes to hand-to-hand.”

  A smaller guy in the front got a half smile on his face. Good, she was glad if he was engaged. She wasn’t bullshitting them either.

  “Don’t get me wrong, bulk helps,” she explained. “But so does momentum. Which means that if you’ve got a giant guy coming at you fast— you there,” she said to a big guy in the second row. “Come on up, come at me.”

  The beefy guy came up slowly as if he was afraid she would change her mind. She had picked him because he was not only huge, but also good-looking and popular among his classmates. She could toss him around a little without humiliating him.

  “Come on, come on,” she said. “Come at me.”

  “Seriously?” he looked worried.

  Brooke was no delicate flower, but the guy was enormous. She understood his hesitation.

  “Seriously,” she said. “Today, cadet.”

  He shrugged and backed up to charge.

  “As I was saying,” she told the class, “if you’ve got a huge guy coming at you, you can always use his momentum against him.”

  At that moment the kid came for her and she parried, causing him to fling himself onto the mat.

  The students laughed and clapped.

  Big guy stood up and scowled.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to do it,” Brooke told him. “Watch me.”

  She demonstrated.

  “Step back, arms up,” she said.

  He did it in place once or twice.

  “Yeah, but pivot,” she said. “On the balls of your feet.”

  He tried again.

  “Nice,” she said. “I’m coming for you now.”

  She came at him easy.

  He
actually handled the parry on his first try and he had a light touch about it, for which she was grateful.

  She managed to land without jarring her bad shoulder.

  The cadets clapped for their classmate and he gave a silly bow. He was eating up the attention, just like she predicted.

  “We’ll work on that move today,” Brooke said. “And we’ve got one more for those who master it. Come at me again.”

  The guy went gamely to the corner and charged again.

  Although Brooke had done the move a million times, she was suddenly terrified. Her old injury made it difficult. But it was necessary to demonstrate how the techniques looked when performed correctly -part of the job.

  Everything seemed to go into slow motion.

  The cadet hurled himself toward her, his t-shirt billowing around his big body with his movement.

  She caught his arm, pivoted, bent her knees, and tried to take the brunt of the flip with her left shoulder.

  Pain shot through her right shoulder and for a terrifying split second she thought she wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

  Calling on her skill and the last of her strength, she managed to twist her hips and fling him over her body.

  He landed with a loud thump as the cadets erupted in cheers.

  “Holy crap,” he said from the ground.

  “If I can do it, you can do it,” she said to the smaller cadet in the front row.