Billionaire Romance: MAXIMILIAN (An Alpha Bad Boy Contemporary Mystery Romance) (Mysterious Billionaires Book 3, Anthologies & Collections) Read Online Free PDF

the person who makes me doesn't want me and the person who uses me can't appreciate me.
What am I?
SHOW ANSWER!

Desired by the Alien King
     
     

Blinking her bleary, groggy eyes, Gwendolyn tried to focus her mind on the last thing she could remember.  The shooting pain in her head—where did that come from?—did not make it any easier.
                  She and her archaeological team had been going through the Sarmian excavation.  The desert around them was gorgeous.  It reminded them of the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert of North America back on Earth, except the browns and tans and the ruddy and rusty colors were streaked with green and grey.  Being surrounded by all that beauty had made them wish they were tourists instead of scientists.  But they had gotten to work well enough, for each of them was well accustomed to interplanetary travel.  More exciting than Sarma itself was the idea of who lived there and what first contact with them meant.  Gwendolyn and her people were living the dream of not only every archaeologist on Earth, but every biologist, every biochemist, every political scientist and historian, every philosopher—practically the whole of humanity.  They were on the cutting edge of the most exciting thing to happen in human history since the confirmation of extraterrestrial life itself.
                  The Sarmians were not merely extraterrestrial—they were humanoid.  They had human forms, human anatomy.  Except for the trail of hair descending from the hairline of the scalp to the bridge of the nose, they could easily pass for human, at least physically.  It was something that science had always deemed biologically impossible, but it turned out to be one of the times when the universe yanked the rug out from under science.  The Sarmians had become Earth's great obsession and people from every discipline were all but foaming at the mouth to have a crack at studying the planet and those who lived there.
                  And Gwendolyn Rush had snagged for herself the singular honor of leading an archaeological team to the desert wilderness of Sarma, into the ruins of an ancient Sarmian society, to dig for clues to why the Sarmians were so much like humans.
                  What they were seeking was not just insights into how ancient and prehistoric Sarmians might have lived, but also confirmation of the only theory that could explain them, a theory so radical that it could have been easily dismissed if the very existence of the Sarmians were not such a radical thing.  What the scientists of Earth hoped the planet Sarma might yield was any clue to the identity and nature of the aliens who, the theory held, had come to Earth eons ago and abducted prehistoric humans, taking them across the stars to guide and shape their evolution for some unknowable purpose.  The Sarmians were one riddle whose answer might expose a greater one.
                  And that was what brought Gwendolyn light years from Earth into the heat and dust and undeniable beauty of another planet, supervising other archaeologists and students in the digging and scraping and sorting and categorizing for later study of structures buried in the sand and the objects and artifacts that they contained.  As much as Gwendolyn loved and cared about the work, it made her wish that she were a leaner and lighter woman.  Gwen was pretty—an almost luminous beauty in fact—with a soft round face, bright blue eyes, and an incandescent smile.  When she did not have her hair bound up in a scarf or rolled up under a hat, it fell in loose black curls about her shoulders.  But it was in the mid section that she felt a bit ponderous when she went to work on a dig.  Her hips, buttocks, and thighs had somewhat more of a spread than she would have liked. At times she would watch the female students who accompanied her on digs, note their hips and thighs that lacked the same