“So, she’ll be okay? The guys were worried about her when she didn’t wake up.”
She frowned. The voice was familiar, but she was still too sleepy to put two and two together. It was a nice voice, though, and the feelings it invoked were a sense of security mixed with something else. Something a lot hotter.
“Yes, physically she’s fine. A few bumps and scrapes, as to be expected with your mission report. If what you said is true, she really did get off lightly there. She isn’t built to take that kind of damage. Other than that, the results show she’s slightly anemic and lacking certain vitamins and minerals. In short, it looks like she’s been riding the edge of exhaustion for a while.”
The reply came in a female voice with a cadence Samara recognized. Doctors across the galaxy all spoke very much the same way. Which meant the ache she was feeling wasn’t from anything as benign as a hard workout.
“Okay. So I can take her home?”
She struggled to full wakefulness as a door was pushed open fully and the voices grew louder.
“Of course, as soon as she wakes up. But make sure she rests and gets plenty to eat. Ah, looks like she’s waking up. I’ll leave you two to it.”
She opened her eyes and blinked about owlishly. She was in a small room, the door of which opened onto an unremarkable corridor. The smell of antiseptic and the generic bedding clued her into the fact she was in a medical center of some kind.
It was the tall, broad-shouldered figure by the door that drew most of her attention.
The doctor disappeared through the door as she looked at him. Lyon. The sight of him brought memories rushing to the fore in a wave so powerful and insistent that she gasped with the strength of it.
Erotic memories…the two of them entwined, his lips on hers, his c*ck impaling her…brought a flush of heat to her cheeks even as those memories fought for space with others that weren’t so nice. The memory of his face as he’d accused her of betraying him. Even now, Lord knew how many hours or days removed, she could recall the blank expression on his face and the condemnation and hatred in his eyes.
She’d done her best, tried to save them all when the Fleet ships came, but the careful, guarded expression on his face as he watched her now said it all. Nothing she’d done had changed things. She’d cut herself off from her people, her entire species, on the off chance of making things right and it hadn’t worked.
Misery and bitterness overwhelmed her. Shuffling in the bed, she tried to sit up.
There was no way she wanted to be lying down and helpless, not in front of him.
Especially not in front of him. Her human weakness would be just another thing about her for him to despise. Just another reason for him to get rid of her.
They’d made it to safety, so what now? Was he going to ship her out on the next shuttle, banished from his presence… Or was she going to be kept prisoner here, seeing the man she loved, but unable to touch him or even tell him how she felt.
“Hey, hey. Not so fast.”
Before she could manage to sit up, he was there. She gasped as her head started to spin and clung on, determined not to pass out.
“Doc says you sustained a nasty concussion, so you might want to take it easy. No need to conquer worlds, kicking the Fleet’s butt is enough for one day.”
She sighed in relief as strong hands supported her and eased her back against the pillows. Then the warm tone of his voice registered. She frowned as she looked at him, expecting to see the same hard expression as before. It wasn’t there. Instead his green eyes were open and warm, a slight quirky smile on his lips as he brushed her hair back from her face.
“My hair isn’t that messy,” she pointed out when he did it again.
He smiled, an off-center, lopsided expression that threatened the tight hold she had on her heart. Despite the scars on his body and face and the tattoo on his cheek that marked him as a cyborg, that smile oozed pure masculine charm.
“I know, but I need an excuse to keep touching you. At least that way, I have a chance of getting out what I need to say before you call security and get me kicked out.”
She blinked in confusion, but didn’t stop him as he teased a strand of dark hair free and gently began to wind it around a large finger.
“I can get you kicked out?”
He chuckled, a rich and intimate sound that filled the small room.
“Of course you can, you’re not a prisoner. In fact, if you screamed, there are probably four medics in the immediate vicinity who’d happily kick my ass and show me the door. You have quite the little fan club after that rescue, you know.”
She sat there, stunned. He didn’t seem mad. That was good. But the rest of what he was saying didn’t make sense. Sure, she remembered the shuttle and fleeing from the Fleet ships into the asteroid belt. But then there was brightness, pain and then nothing. She didn’t recall anything else.
“I do?”
He smiled, lounging against the arm of the chair as he played with her hair. It was distracting, but she managed to keep her attention on his face.
“Oh yes, and the fact you strapped Archon to the deck plating seems to have elevated you to goddess-like status. Already I’ve had several requests to—” He wrinkled his nose and looked at her hair intently.
She looked at it too, expecting there to be something wrong the way he was looking at it. Perhaps a piece of fluff or, God forbid, something grossly unpleasant. She’d been a nurse far too long not to be aware of the horrors lurking in a medical facility.
There was nothing wrong with it. Just plain, dark hair. The same as it always had been. He was avoiding the rest of that sentence. She put her hand over his, making him look at her.
“Forgive me if I’m a little slow picking things up here. But… What the hell are you going on about? You say I’m not a prisoner, good. Can I go home now? Are you still mad at me?”
The instant that last comment slipped out, she kicked herself. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t reveal how she felt about him. Yet that one sentence, spoken with almost childlike innocence and yearning, gave the whole game away.
Perhaps he hadn’t heard it? Just for one instant she thought she’d gotten away with it. That the universe had decided to give her a break for once. The look he leveled at her blew any chances of that away. Blunt and direct, it was as though he could see right into her soul.
“No, sweetling, I’m not mad at you.”
His voice was soft as he moved closer. At the same time he pulled on the strand of hair he had wrapped around his finger to draw her in. The touch was light, she could break free at any time. Physically. Mentally…emotionally? It would take a shuttle at jump speed to make her move away.
“I’m not mad at you at all. I think you’re the most beautiful, bravest, sexiest, honest, genuine, cleverest…did I say sexiest already?”
She nodded, still holding her breath, but with the hint of a smile beginning to threaten her lips. She wasn’t sure she was really hearing this. Concussion did strange things to people. She could be dreaming. “Good…sexiest, wisest, hmmm—” He paused with a rueful grin. “Can I cut this crap and just say I love you?”
She had to be dreaming. Her mind had taken a walk on the crazy side and was giving her exactly what she wanted. Wide-eyed, disbelief running through her veins, she just looked up at him. She knew she must look like some cow-eyed teenager with the object of all her teen fantasizes right in front of her, but she didn’t care. “Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.”
His voice was husky as he dropped the curl and slid his hand into the heavy mass of her hair. Strong fingers caressed the back of her neck as he pulled her into his arms. His movements were gentle despite his size and the power she knew he was capable of. “Like what?” she managed, her voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room. “Vulnerable, innocent, delicate.”
She winced a little. Here she was so determined not to show weakness and that was all he saw. Dipping her head, she tried to look away. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to.”
“Hey.”
His fingers tightened on her nape and a hard finger hooked around her chin. He pulled so she had no choice but to look at him. Instead of the condemnation she was expecting, his eyes were filled with heat.
“Why do you say that? You don’t need to.”
He leaned forward and whispered his lips over hers. It wasn’t a kiss, it was the hint of a kiss, and it whetted her appetite for more. Who was she kidding? Having him hold her again was indescribable and she’d happily lie here for eternity with her head pillowed against his strong shoulder. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though, kissing the corner of her lips leisurely and making his way across to nuzzle at her neck.
She shivered at the sensual torment.
“Because you guys don’t like it, do you? Weakness that is. I-I figured you wouldn’t want to see that part of me.”
He pulled back, surprise on his face. “What? The human side? You think you’re weak because you’re human?”
She nodded miserably. She expected a lot of reactions, even braced herself for several possibilities. What she didn’t expect was the fond chuckle and for his lips to descend on hers. With ruthless determination, he swept aside all her defenses and deepened the kiss until she whimpered and clung to him. By the time he lifted his head, both their breathing was ragged. “That’s what I think about that. Sweetheart, being human doesn’t make you weak.
Not at all. You managed to kick the Fleet’s ass when we couldn’t, does that sound weak to you? As for being less physically hardy than we are…”
Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck again, going right for the spot that made her weak at the knees and her body clench hard in need.
“I’m so f**king hard right now I could use my c*ck as a flagpole. I like that you’re delicate, I like that aura of innocence and vulnerability. It makes me hot. And I like that I can protect you. It does something, fills some need inside.”
He pulled back to look into her eyes and tapped the middle of his broad chest lightly. Lyon drew in a ragged breath, the fire in his eyes banked. She could still see it, though, just ready to flare into life. He looked at her, a worried expression on his face.
“Say something, please, sweetling,” he begged. “I’m going nuts here wondering whether you want me or whether I blew my chance with you back there on the shuttle.”
She watched him through unreadable eyes, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. The protective little ball she’d rolled her heart up into relaxed a little, then a little more.
Despite the studied nonchalance of his body, the pleading tone in his voice and the look in his eyes told the tale of how panicked he was. Wonder filled her. He wanted her, weaknesses and all. Warmth spread from her heart and outward, to fill every part of her body as a sense of relief and exhilaration surged through her.
He loved her. That was all that mattered. It didn’t matter who he was or who she was. The only thing that mattered right now was the two of them and the soul-deep connection she could feel tightening between them. Binding them together.