What are you doing here? She sent the question out, knowing he would hear her. That it was the first time in six years that she had instigated contact was not lost on her. She had wanted to, so many times, when she had felt him near, but she had known as she struggled to keep the distance she did not really want, that contacting Mac even one time would be one time too many.
She had needed a clean break. Bad enough he invaded her dreams on a semi regular basis without giving him encouragement. But the real reason, she could admit to herself now as she felt him getting closer, was that she knew she would never have been able to leave him a second time. Damn it, answer me.
She stood and turned to face the lab doors. Ridiculous as it would be for him to be moving through the intense security as fast as she felt him coming, she was still not surprised when the doors swished open and McAlister Weer strode in like he owned the place. His eyes found hers unerringly through the crowd and for the second time in so many minutes she had to worry about her knees working.
Six years had done nothing to tame his raw masculine appeal. Had she really thought the dream image of him was a memory and the real man would not be nearly as edible in person? Not after all this time?
Talk about denial, she mused, unable to do anything but drink in the sight of him. If this was a test to see if she was over the man. She was failing it miserably.
Was it too much to hope that he would have gained some weight, or lost hair, or muscle tone or something so that the physical power of him did not immediately remind her of what it felt like to be in his arms?
If anything, the last six years had honed him down to six foot two feet of corded muscle and raw magnetism. His dark brown hair was a little longer than she knew he liked, falling over his collar and sweeping nearly into his eyes. It made her fingers remember the feel of that tumble of abundant hair when she cut it for him or fisted it during sex.
Miranda closed her eyes against the onslaught of sensations. Something else she had forced herself to forget as soon as she left him, among a thousand things that were now crashing down on her as his presence brought it all back. There was a reason she had made herself forget everything about him. The same reason she had known she needed to stay away from him.
God, it hurts. she thought and then realized her mistake when his eyes flashed blue fire at her.
Mac ignored the questions people were shouting at him, now that they had begun to notice there was a strange man in the lab, a dangerous man by the look of him. He walked through the rest of them like they were so much smoke and started toward her again. Purpose and power in every step he took closer. Not one person was foolish enough to try and stop him physically. And he paid no attention to what anyone else said or did as he made his way straight to her.
Mac?
He might not be answering her, but he was in her head just the same, Miranda realized. Even from across the room she could feel his desire, determination and need for her. And his realization of just how much she had been hiding from him. Miranda did the only thing she could do in that moment. She turned and ran.
Unfortunately for her, unless she wanted to trigger the emergency alarms to the stairs, the only way out of the lab was around or back through him. Her panicked dash led her to the private labs in the back. She was still trying to figure out if it would do her any good to try and hide when Mac came through the door behind her. She turned in time to watch him shut the door and click the lock with finality. Then the only thing that could be heard was her trying to catch her breath and muffled thumps against the lab door as someone, or someone’s, tried to come to her rescue. Too little too late.
Mac ignored all of it.
"Why are you here?" she asked finally, raising her chin and swallowing hard.
He smiled at her. "You've been keeping secrets," he said mildly enough, even though she could feel a deep well of rage just hiding behind that smile.
"What secrets..." she started only to be cut off.
"Maybe that was the wrong word," he said, stepping closer. Mira stepped back each time he moved closer. She would have liked to stand her ground and look strong, but she was not foolish enough to believe that him touching her would lead to anything but full surrender, hers. Besides, he had already watched her run like a rabbit from him so what was the point in pretending? His words reinforced her knowledge that he would not be fooled again.
"You made me believe you were done with me. You lied. To both of us."
She raised her chin. "I told you I needed more than you could give me. That wasn't a lie." She did not see him move this time, before she found herself with her back pressed against the wall. Mac was so close she could feel his body heat. Like a caress of flame, it surrounded her, making it hard to think.
"Yes, that was what you said," he mused aloud, and she nearly bristled knowing he just played with her now. "As if you intended to find what you needed elsewhere. As if you could." His eyes flashed in remembered rage and then banked and smoldered at her. She felt those eyes like the lap of fire on her skin. She shuddered visibly before she could control the feeling and she knew he caught all of it when satisfaction flared, along with the heat. "Now I have to wonder which of us you were really lying to." She could have handled all of it, she assured herself, everything he was feeling, and all the emotions rolling at her, if she had not felt the pain there too. The same pain she was feeling. That she had been feeling since the day she left for good. Like a hole in her gut that never really healed.
"You wanted me to think that you didn't love me and need me as much as I need you. That was a lie." He closed his eyes and bowed his head so that he surrounded her completely and she knew he was delving deeper into her mind. His voice dropped, and there was such an agony of relief there it almost destroyed her. Just like leaving him had very nearly done.
"You refused to see me again, not because as I thought, you were done with me, but because you knew you never would be. Just like," he finished on a growl. "I will never be done with you."
Mira sucked in a breath to argue, maybe, but he didn't give her the chance. His lips swooped down, claiming hers. At the first touch of his heat and the taste of him in her mouth she remembered all the other reasons she had never moved on to another man like she lied to herself and said she would. The second he touched her she was lost.
With another growl Mac yanked her to him and lifted her, pressing her full bodied against the wall. Her arms were wrapping around his neck despite her mind fluttering at her feebly to remember…something, when the door to the lab burst open and security streamed in.
Mac wrenched his lips from hers and turned his head, snarling at them.
Mira shuddered and bowed her head, unable to hold it up, she found herself snuggled close under his chin.
She should be saying something to the guards holding weapons at them, or to Mac since he should not be kissing her at all. But all of that was beyond her at the moment. Here's to hoping they did not get killed by overzealous security before she was able to form words to explain who their intruder was.
Mac certainly did not seem to be in any mood to explain.
"Everyone just calm, the fuck, down," Major Franks said as he pushed his way through the door to stand between Nevada and another of his guards Rodger Halston, Mira remembered the name vaguely. "Stand down," he said again, as soon as he took in the situation. Everyone followed his lead but Nevada who kept his gun trained on Mac while he gave his commanding officer surprised eyes. Franks turned and glared at his man. "I said stand down."
Nevada dropped his gun hand, but Mira noticed he did not holster it. His cold eyes went from Mac to her and then softened perceptively. "You alright there Mira?"
Mira raised her head and forced herself to enter the conversation. "Fine, Nevada. He won't hurt me." Not physically anyway.
She felt the tension rise rather than lessen and turned her head back to find Mac's eyes on her. He was not pleased that the soldier was taking such an interest in her, but then Ma
c was a telepath. He was probably getting more than the trill of jealousy she could feel coming off Nevada. She was very glad, and not for the first time, that she was not getting what everyone was thinking. Because the feelings were bad enough.
"Doctor McAlister Weer," Franks said in a booming voice that had everyone freezing. "Want to tell me what the hell you are doing walking through my security like you’re strolling the mall?"
Mac turned and looked at the major, Mira still in his arms, and flashed him a smile with a lot of teeth. "Don't pretend you’re surprised to see me major, not when you invited me."
"I did?" he snorted. "How the hell do you figure that?"
Mira felt her body tighten even before Mac spoke the words that sent a shock wave through the lab. "You hired my wife."
Well... shit.
So much for anonymity.
***
Mac eyed the old soldier he followed and wondered how long it would take to get back to Mira.
"Your father didn't think you'd come." Franks smiled with grim satisfaction as he led the way into his office, Mac behind him.
"I take that to mean it was your idea to involve Miranda in this mess?"
Miranda who had melted in his arms and then ran away as soon as she saw the smallest opening. Mac added only in his mind. It had been bad enough when she ran from him and he thought he was the only one suffering for it. But what he had seen when he finally saw her again was not a woman who was over a man. Thank fuck. She had given him an opening after nearly six years, and he would be damned if he let her slip through his fingers a second time. Which made this interview with Franks doubly annoying.
The last thing he wanted to be doing was talking to Franks, when he could be taking that opening his wife unknowingly gave him and blasting it with dynamite. He supposed he should be thanking the man in front of him, because if he had not brought Miranda here to lure Mac back, he might never have known what she was hiding in her dreams.
Instead he was tempted to punch the old bastard in his face. Miranda was in danger, and while he was going to take the chance offered and get his wife back, he would not have placed her in danger for any reason. That Franks did it with a smug smile on his face was infuriating. "You should not have brought her here."
"I did what I had to do. You and I both know your father is not going to complete this mission, not without your help."
"My father is not going to complete this mission because he is looking in the human mind for answers."
Franks narrowed his eyes at Mac's words. He opened his mouth as if to argue but then got that shrewd look in his eyes. "You know something we don't."
"I know a lot of things you don't." Mac made damn sure the old wily bastard could read nothing in his face. "But most important to me at the moment, I know without a doubt that Miranda should not be here, and you damn well know it too."
"Well, as to that," the major said leaning back in his chair as if Mac was not close to violence. "She is a pain in the ass, but I can't argue she knows what she's doing. Even if half the time I think her ideas are hippy horse shit. She gets results. Not only have there been less accidents, sick days and complaints from the staff, but the work they are producing is damn impressive."
"Miranda has a way of bringing out the best in people," he said keeping his eyes on Franks. "She's brilliant at what she does, you are fucking lucky to have her. She is also the most noncombative person you will ever meet."
"Noncombatant?" Franks scoffed. "That woman argues over every damn thing and is stubborn as a mule."
Mac snorted in agreement before he could stop himself. Stubborn was an understatement. He shifted his brain back to the point and away from his wife. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. She has no place in the battle coming."
Frank narrowed his eyes and sat forward suddenly intent. "From everything I know we have a little time before it comes to a battle, generations was my understanding from your father’s research."
Mac met the old man’s eyes. "You didn't need to lure me here with Miranda, I was already coming."
Frank cursed loud and long before falling back into his chair and turning those steely eyes to Mac. "Tell me what you know and how you know it."
"I know we have no more time to unlock the potential of the human mind through genetic research and manipulation. The enemy," he finished grimly. "Is already here."
There was a long silence before Frank finally spoke. "How the fuck can you know that?"
"Because I've seen it. In my dreams."
And Frank would be one of the few being’s privy to exactly what that meant. The old soldier ground his teeth and swore. "Your father assured me..."
"My father is always sure he is right, even when he is guessing," mac interrupted. "And we put up with it because most of the time his guesses are proved right, but he made these assumptions thirty some odd years ago and as intuitive and brilliant as he is, he does not have all the facts."
"And you do?" The gruff irritated voice at the door was one that had him wanting to revert immediately to rebellious teenager.
Mac ground his teeth and strived to keep his defensive reaction in check. Surely thirty-six was old enough to get over a fucked-up childhood. "Father," he finally gritted out turning to see the old man had aged a lot in the years since he had been gone. It gave him a pang, the grey hair and wrinkles. The man before him was slightly stooped and not nearly as tall and broad as he remembered with a too skinny frame. But the eyes were filled with the same fiery intelligence and, for Mac at least, judgment.
CHAPTER SIX
"I suppose you think you're clever?"
When Mac looked up to respond to that irately, he found his father’s fierce eyes were not on him. His words were for the Major. But it was Miranda standing just beyond his father that caught his attention and stopped his defensive response. So much so that he missed the whole argument his father started with Franks.
I thought you were hiding, he said. His eyes sweeping over every inch of her as she followed his father in the door. Was it possible that she had gotten more beautiful in the last six years?
I thought about it, she answered her self-depreciation coming through the connection to him. But it's not like you to meekly follow anyone out of the room. As soon as I realized you were not in my head or following me, I knew something else was happening. I got curious. She gave him an arch brow that he assumed was supposed to be her version of hard.
Miranda could not be hard, and it always came off to him as simply adorable. Which he was not dumb enough to let her see. And my father?
I ran into your father coming back. He was relieved to see me. I wonder if he thinks I can soothe the tension between you like I do between him and the staff? She met his eyes fully and smiled. I didn't have the heart to tell him you’re immune to my powers.
I don't know about that, he teased back automatically. It depends on which powers you are referring to.
It was an old joke between them, but he caught the mental flinch the words produced when she realized how easy she had fallen into play. Though he was surprised to see she showed nothing of her feelings on her face. Six years ago she could not have hidden so well.
A sudden silence made him turn his attention back to the room. Both Franks and his father were looking at him expectantly. "What did I miss?"
"Have you not been listening?" his father practically seethed at him.
"Obviously not," he said mildly in the face of his father’s anger. "I'm waiting for you to finish with the arguments that no longer matter and move on to the reason why I’m here."
The older men looked from him to Miranda. She shook her head and smiled at them both, clearly exasperated. "Don't look at me. I told you when you hired me he was not going to come back here just for me. Mac has known where I was every day for the last six years. It makes no sense that he would suddenly show up just because I'm here." She looked back at Mac her warm leaf green eyes full of contemplation. "Not unless there is something
else going on."
The two men turned eyes back to Mac and he nearly smiled as they moved in sync.
Do not laugh at them right now, Mac. Miranda said into his head. They may not look it but both of them are one spark away from emotional upheaval.
He snorted in his head. My father does not do emotional upheaval.
This time it was Miranda who had to force back a laugh. Your father is nothing but emotional upheaval. He is just bad at expressing himself in anything but terse orders.
And Franks?
Is well past worried and moving right into extreme agitation. Something I might add; he does not handle well either.
"Well," his father finally snapped. "Why are you here?" The old man nearly ground down his teeth. "If you aren't chasing after your wife, and we all know you did not come back out of responsibility and dedication to your craft, why did you come?"
Think for a moment, she nearly shouted in his head before his angry response to that statement could escape. He took her advice and breathed in deep instead of responding how he wanted. Yes, his father could still push his buttons.
"McAlister came to warn us," Franks said grimly into the charged silence. "They are already here."
Why did your father's adrenaline just go through the roof? Who's already here?
Mac turned back to look at Miranda. He opened his mouth and then closed it. He cleared his throat. Looking into those clear intelligent green eyes he was at a loss. How did a man tell his wife aliens had invaded the planet without looking like a psychotic ass? She blinked at him and he realized he must have sent the thought. "I think it's time you heard the whole story," he finally said when she did not run screaming from the room but looked between each of the men like she was unsure of her own response.
Love Me Or Let Me Go Page 5
