Saving Morgan

by MB Panichi

  Morgan took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” She steadied her grip on the pistol. “Now what?”

  Shaine couldn’t help grinning. Morgan was a tough cookie. She guided Morgan’s arms higher and adjusted her grip. “Now, you just point and pull the trigger,” she said. “You probably won’t hit anything, but it doesn’t matter. A shot can buy you enough time to duck.”

  Morgan turned at the last word, giving Shaine a half-panicked, wide-eyed stare.

  Shaine let her hands drop. “I’m sorry. That was dumb,” she said with a sigh. She added, “Honestly, most untrained civilians with guns can’t hit the side of a shuttle. I just don’t want to lie to you.”

  Morgan swallowed, dropped her arms, and held the pistol loosely at her side. Slowly, she put the weapon on the coffee table.

  Shaine said uneasily, “Look, Morgan, you’re probably not going to need it. I just—” She stopped and tried again, “I don’t mean to scare you. I’m probably being paranoid.”

  Morgan faced her. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She shook her head. “This is so insane.”

  “That it is.” Shaine regarded Morgan in silence and finally looked at the sofa. “Come on, may as well sit, huh?”

  Morgan shrugged.

  Shaine almost reached down to pick up the pistol and return the weapon to its holster, but stopped the motion. Just leave it. She dropped into the corner of the sofa.

  Morgan slid in close, curling a leg under her body.

  Shaine rested an arm loosely around Morgan’s shoulders and leaned her head back against the cushions, closing her eyes.

  Morgan asked, “Any idea what happens next?”

  Shaine considered. She didn’t like that she wasn’t in control of the situation, didn’t like that she was just a pawn in Rogan’s game, but the situation would change tomorrow. Once she and Ellerand joined the mission planning, they would take over. If an operation was going to come together to take out Charun, she and Ellerand would run it, the way it always had been.

  “Rogan said he has a plan and I’ll find out about that tomorrow,” she said. “Other than that, I’m not sure yet.”

  After a pause, Morgan asked, “What does it mean, really, if technically Maruchek’s my father? Legally, it doesn’t mean anything—not unless one or the other of us decided to make something of it. I sure as hell won’t. I don’t want his money.” She raised and dropped a hand, clearly frustrated. “I don’t want my life to change. Things are fine just the way they are. And what about my dad? It’s not like I’m going to walk away from him just because Maruchek’s my birth father. Besides, what could Maruchek possibly want with me, anyway? Am I supposed to suddenly be part of his life?” She sighed. “Where does this leave me, Shaine?”

  Shaine wished she could come up with an intelligent and helpful response. “I don’t know. Talk to Maruchek tomorrow. Just ask him. He’s a reasonable guy, really. A lot more reasonable than Rogan. I don’t see Maruchek trying to force you into doing anything.”

  “But he can force you into killing someone.”

  “That’s different.”

  Morgan shifted, turning a serious look on her. “How? How is it different? He and Rogan are manipulating you. He can do the same thing to me.”

  Shaine shook her head. “No. You don’t know any deep, dark company secrets. I do. With the knowledge I have, I could do a hell of a lot of damage to Maruchek’s reputation, the company’s reputation, and probably get both him and Rogan put in jail for some of the crap they’ve pulled. All you can do is tell the world you’re his long-lost daughter. It’d be news for about a week, and then they’d just shove it under the table.”

  Morgan took a long breath. “When you put it that way, it’s kind of insignificant, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.

  Shaine squeezed Morgan’s hand. “Not insignificant,” she countered. “Just not as damning.”

  Morgan said nothing. She stared down at their clasped hands. After a time, she tilted her head to glance up. “So, really, what it comes down to is in order for either of us to have our lives back, you need to kill Charun. How do you do that without getting thrown in jail?”

  “That’s why they call it ‘covert.’ I won’t leave enough behind for the authorities to trace me. As for the press and the media frenzy, that’s not my problem. I play cold-blooded killer and we all live happily ever after until Rogan finds another reason to drag me in again.” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her tone.

  “Don’t sacrifice your soul for me, Shaine. I’d rather see you just walk away.”

  Shaine swallowed down the anger and shrugged. “I can’t walk away. And honestly, Morgan, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to make you safe. I don’t understand it, and I know we hardly even know each other, but…” She hesitated, fighting for the words to express what she felt. “I can’t let them hurt you. Even if you just walk away from me afterward, I can’t.”

  Morgan whispered, “I won’t walk away, Shaine.”

  Shaine stared helplessly into stormy depths of emotion. Her heart ached, making it hard to breathe and her world tunneled. She ran her fingers lightly against Morgan’s bandaged cheek and traced her lips. I need you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I swear I’d die for you.

  Morgan sighed at the touch. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  Shaine leaned down to kiss her slowly, Morgan’s mouth soft and warm under hers. Sensations exploded through her, Morgan’s fingers twisted strongly into her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. She dragged Morgan’s body over hers, her hands sliding under Morgan’s shirt, finding the softness of skin.

  Morgan shifted, pressing a leg between Shaine’s.

  Shaine groaned into Morgan’s mouth, “Oh, God.”

  Morgan rocked against her, making Shaine’s hips surge in turn. Morgan breathed, “Please…”

  Shaine didn’t think. She gathered Morgan into her arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Morgan reached up to pull her down, but Shaine backed away, lifting a finger. “One second,” she murmured.

  She stripped off her shirt, then her boots, shimmying out of her pants and underwear, stopping as her fingers touched the synthetic skin below her right knee. She straightened, standing naked in front of Morgan, and suddenly remembered her prosthetic leg. She swallowed, almost overcome by the panic she hadn’t felt in so long. “My leg,” she whispered.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Morgan said softly, and held a hand out to her. “Come on.”

  Sighing with relief, she climbed naked onto the bed. She covered Morgan’s body with her own, leaning down to capture Morgan’s lips, groaning as Morgan’s tongue met hers. For long moments they explored each other’s mouths, letting the heat build between them until they had to break the kiss to breathe.

  Shaine sat back, sliding her fingers under the hem of Morgan’s shirt, reveling in the silky feel of her skin. Morgan wordlessly helped her pull it off and toss it aside on the floor. She placed a line of kisses down Morgan’s stomach, then wriggled down and very deliberately began removing Morgan’s boots and socks. She slid her hands up the loose fabric of Morgan’s worn cargo pants, over slender hips to the waistband and teased the warm skin, sliding her fingertips against softness and bringing goose bumps to Morgan’s flesh. Looking up to hold Morgan’s heated gaze, she undid the catch and pulled Morgan’s pants and underwear down and off.

  Morgan propped herself up on her elbows, watching Shaine’s seduction with expectant, half-lidded eyes.

  Shaine grinned and crawled on the bed like a predatory cat, taking her time and kissing her way up Morgan’s legs, tracing the outlines of the dragon tattoo on Morgan’s thigh with the tip of her tongue. Morgan’s body twitched beneath her.

  She eased her long frame over Morgan’s, hissing softly at the feel of hot skin on skin, feeling need and desire igniting, sending sharp jolts to her groin. Morgan’s hands slid up her back, hot trails on her
skin. She rested her weight on her elbows and studied Morgan’s face. “You are beautiful,” she whispered.

  A still silence fell between them.

  Shaine lost herself in Morgan’s eyes, in the depths of need. She traced the smooth planes of Morgan’s face and ran her fingers through the straight dark hair falling in feathery layers. She let Morgan’s hair slide through her fingers as she kissed the woman’s closed eyelids, her forehead.

  Slowly, she eased down, trailing kisses along Morgan’s jaw, down the neck, into the hollow between pert breasts. Morgan shuddered under her. She felt strong hands clutching at her shoulders when Morgan’s body arched up.

  She kissed Morgan’s breasts, teased and sucked at the nipples until Morgan moaned. She slid down further, touching, tasting the smooth, flat planes of Morgan’s stomach, letting her hands trail along narrow hips, tracing lines down the long thighs.

  Forcing herself not to hurry, Shaine finally slid her fingers into the warm wetness at Morgan’s core.

  Morgan whimpered at the touch.

  Shaine shuddered with need. It had been so long, so long since she’d wanted anyone like this. So long since anyone had made her care this much or need this much.

  She explored with gentle fingers. Morgan squirmed and thrust against her, pushing for more, nails scraping her back and shoulders until she finally slid inside again. Morgan gasped, an incoherent moan escaping her lips.

  Shaine felt a groan rise in her throat. She rubbed her cheek against the taught, smooth skin of Morgan’s stomach as hot, wet muscles tightened around her fingers. She thrust slowly in and out, forcing a rhythm and moving harder and faster, more desperately until Morgan’s hips spasmed up against her and she cried out, clutching at her with desperate hands, and finally going limp beneath her.

  Shaine groaned and wrapped her arms tightly around Morgan’s middle. Her heart felt as though it would explode inside her chest. She ached with emotions she was afraid to identify, and buried her face into Morgan’s warm, sweat-dampened skin, not wanting to show the tears she knew were sliding down her cheeks, not sure why she cried in the first place.

  Morgan’s hands caressed her hair, rubbed light circles along her back and shoulders. “Shaine,” she whispered. “Hey, come up here.”

  After a moment, Shaine took a long, shaky breath and shimmied up to lie face-to-face with Morgan. She smiled and kissed Morgan softly.

  Morgan studied her face. Gentle fingers wiped away the dampness of her tears while soft lips traced the tracks they’d left. Morgan ran strong fingers through her thick hair, then traced feather-light caresses along the line of her neck and shoulder.

  Shaine sighed, shivering at Morgan’s touch. She allowed Morgan to roll them over and continue her silent caresses. Morgan’s hands moved along her strong curves. Morgan’s lips and teeth and tongue explored her skin.

  She responded to Morgan’s touch, emotion building inside her like a volcano waiting to erupt. Morgan’s hands moved slowly downward, while that hot mouth suckled her taut nipples and firm breasts. She gasped when strong fingers found her need. She thrust against Morgan’s sure strokes until release came in a rush of sensation that left her reeling, clinging to Morgan as a point of solidity in a whirl of cascading emotions that left her dizzy.

  She and Morgan lay entangled for long minutes. She breathed in Morgan’s scent. They snuggled together, encircled in each other’s arms.

  Shaine gazed into Morgan’s eyes. She wanted to understand what was happening to her, wanted to understand what made her feel like she never wanted to leave this moment in time or the woman who made her feel things she never even knew existed. But her brain had shut down, and all she ran on now was pure animal instinct, an instinct telling her the connection between her and Morgan was true and right, even if she found it overwhelming.

  She shivered, her body reacting to the cool air cycling over her hot, damp skin. Swallowing, she eased back from her lover, getting a startled look in response. She kissed Morgan’s mouth. “Hang on,” she whispered, “I’m cold.” She crawled down to the foot of the bed to snag the comforter and pulled it up over Morgan and herself. “Here,” she murmured, nudging Morgan to rest her head on her shoulder and carefully tucking the soft material around them.

  Morgan’s body molded against hers, relaxed and sated, an arm draped comfortably over her middle.

  Shaine closed her eyes with a long sigh, reveling in the feel of Morgan’s heat. I want this. I need her. God, I can’t lose this. I have to stop Charun. I have to give us our time. Then maybe I can finally have my life back, and Morgan’s life too.

  But for right now, they had the night and she planned on making the most of it.

  * * *

  Morgan didn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke with a gut-wrenching shock of adrenaline, disoriented and lost. She sat up in a panic, ready to bolt before her brain caught up with her reactions and she remembered where she was. Sensation washed over her, visceral memories of Shaine’s body beneath her, memories of skin and heat and need. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to start breathing normally again. Blinking, she unclenched her fingers from the comforter’s thick fabric.

  Beside her, Shaine mumbled and shifted in sleep, wrapping an arm a little tighter around her hips. A well of emotion bubbled in her chest. She automatically tamped her feelings down.

  The chron on the nightstand read 5:39 a.m. In just a few hours she was supposed to be having breakfast with Tarm Maruchek. Her birth father. She felt sick. This can’t be real. How could my whole life be one long lie? She rubbed her hands over her face and squeezed her eyes shut again. What the fuck—I don’t want to deal with this.

  “Morgan.”

  She opened her eyes to look into Shaine’s dark green gaze.

  “It’ll work out,” Shaine said softly.

  Morgan swallowed. “Will it?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Shaine smiled. “It will,” she said. “Come on, sleep a while more, okay?”

  Morgan took a long breath, nodded slowly, and let Shaine pull her under the covers.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Shaine whispered into her hair. “Sleep now. Close your eyes.”

  Morgan turned her cheek against the warm soft skin of Shaine’s breast and inhaled her lover’s scent. She closed her eyes. Safe here. The strength of Shaine’s arms wrapped around her was comforting. Maybe everything would be all right. Maybe there was a way to make it all right. She fell back asleep with the gentle motion of Shaine rubbing her back and continuing to whisper reassurances into her hair.

  * * *

  Morgan blinked awake to the sound of water running and the sweet, fresh smell of soap. Rolling over, she untangled herself from the bedding. The mattress was still warm where Shaine had slept beside her. She smiled and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The chron on the nightstand showed 6:40 a.m. She hadn’t heard an alarm and wondered if it’d gone off, or if Shaine was one of those people who just got up without one. She wasn’t.

  And she really needed to use the bathroom, she realized. She sat up and scooted off the bed, shivering as she padded naked to the bathroom. Fortunately, the bathroom was filled with warm steam. She paused when she walked in, staring for a long moment at the shadow behind the frosted glass shower door, feeling the slow burn of desire wash through her body.

  Motion behind the glass stopped. “Morgan?”

  “Uh, yeah. Hey. Gotta pee.” She rolled her eyes, feeling her face flush. Idiot, do your business and get out before you embarrass yourself anymore. “Um, I didn’t hear you get up.”

  Shaine chuckled and spluttered water. “You were out cold.”

  “I guess.”

  Morgan finished and stood. The toilet flushed automatically and she hesitated while listening to the shower run. She knew what she wanted to do, but wasn’t sure if she would be welcomed.

  The frosted glass door cracked open, letting out a waft of fragrant heat. Shaine peered at her with a seductive grin. “You coming
in or not?” she asked.

  Morgan grinned. She hoped the hot water would hold out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You’re late, Wendt.”

  “So fire me.” Shaine strolled into the bustling security control room at just past oh-eight-hundred hours. She’d already escorted Morgan to the entrance of the indoor conservatory where she was supposed to meet Tarm Maruchek for breakfast. She smiled sweetly at Rogan’s glowering visage. “I was playing bodyguard.”

  Rogan glared at her for a long second. He snapped, “My office. Ten minutes. Brief with Ellerand first.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

  She grinned and looked around the busy room, realizing all eyes were on her. She shrugged. Let ’em look.

  The familiarity of her surroundings struck her. She recognized most of the faces behind the monitors and workstations as dedicated security officers, mostly good eggs. Some offered tentative smiles of greeting, others disinterested glances, a few blatantly hostile glares. She ignored everyone and turned to the one person in the room she considered a friend.

  Kyle Ellerand rolled his chair back from a cluttered row of monitors and keyboards similar to the mess in his office. His space in the main room took up the greater part of the far corner. Comp pads, handwritten and printed sheets of notes, and a half dozen coffee mugs covered the counter for three meters. He motioned for her to join him at his workstation.

  Shaine perched on a rolling stool beside him. Most of the room returned to their work.

  Ellerand flashed her a grin. “Hey, Wendt. Sleep well last night?”

  Shaine smirked. “Like a baby, Kyle. So what’ve you got for me?”

  He made a rueful face. He tapped at the keyboard, reached over to one of the touch-screen monitors, and shifted a couple of the windows around. “You can say what you want about Charun, but you gotta admit the man is a paranoid fucker and he runs a tight ship. Right now he seems to be hunkering down for the long haul. He’s holed up in the desert compound. So if you’re going to take him out, you’re gonna have to do it from the inside.”