by Mina Carter
“How’s she doing?”
Archon poked his head around the door to the main cabin three hours later. His dark eyes were concerned and Lyon could sense the questions just waiting to pour from the Gemini’s lips.
He reached out and smoothed Samara’s dark hair back from her face. Curled up on her side, she was sleeping. He’d dressed the wound on her scalp. It had looked worse than it was. His heart had been in his throat and his hands shaking as he’d cleaned it up, which was something he’d never encountered before.
He’d patched himself and members of his team up more times than he could remember. Hell, he and Cael had even rebuilt Archon’s shoulder once. Mind you, they’d had to get him drunk to stop him turning around and trying to help.
“She’s doing well. Still needs a proper check over, but the scans are clean.”
Archon nodded, relief showing on his face. Other than yelling for a med-kit, Lyon hadn’t let anyone near the petite human. Archon had tried to help and received a growl for his troubles. As far as Lyon saw it, she was here because of him and she was his responsibility.
Still hovering by the door, Archon shuffled his feet. His signal he wanted to say something else. Lyon looked up, narrowing his gaze on the other man. At least the randy Gemini wasn’t ogling Samara’s figure anymore.
“What is it?”
Archon flushed a little, a banner of color across his cheekbones.
“We’ve been thinking…”
Uh-oh. He knew that “we”. That “we” meant that the two Geminis and Cael had been talking behind his back and that he was about to get railroaded into something. He frowned a little, realizing that although he’d been thinking of Cael and Archon together earlier, it was more of the three of them that were a unit, not just the two. Interesting, perhaps he needed to lock all of them up in that room on their own and see what happened.
“She did really well, boss. Don’t be too hard on her, ‘kay?”
Archon disappeared back through the door before he could answer. Lyon sat back in the chair next to the bed and looked at his little prize. So much courage in such a delicate little frame. He’d wondered what it was about her that had drawn him in and now he knew. For all his ingrained superiority about the cyborg versus the human race, it had been her, an unenhanced human, who had put her life on the line in a way he hadn’t expected to save them.
She was not just his equal, she was his superior. And if she’d have him after this, there was no way he was letting her go.
Chapter Nine
Samara woke slowly. She’d never been one for waking quickly, as many an abused alarm clock would attest to, but today she wallowed in the comfortable warmth and darkness before full consciousness started to intrude.
She ached. It felt like she’d been worked over with a stick or she’d gone elitist in the gym with the hardcore program. Just a little longer and she’d get up, it was too warm and comfortable here. It was only when voices intruded on her doze that her brain started to clear the fuzz of sleep out.
“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 cock 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 fucking hard right now I could use my cock 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.
Pursing her lips, she gave him a coy look. “Well, I don’t know. Perhaps I should take a look at this fan club you say I have before I make a decision…”
The scowl on Lyon’s face was matched in ferocity by the growl rumbling in the big chest. “Right. You’re better,” he declared and scooped her up into his arms, sheet and all.
“Lyon! What are you doing?”
She grabbed at his broad shoulders as he headed for the door. He wouldn’t drop her, but she liked the feel of the hard muscles under her hands. Remembered what they felt like bunching with power as he took her.
He treated her to a look full of dark heat and intent as he walked down the corridor and emerged through a door into the sunshine. Samara barely noticed the buildings of the settlement, real outpost colony-type constructions, as he started walking again.
“I’m taking you to my home. Our home,” he corrected. “And I’m going to show you why the only fan club you’ll ever need is right here. Forever.”
As they walked through the small settlement, Samara could feel the interest. It beat on them from all sides as people, both male and female, stopped what they were doing to look at them. They were all cyborgs.
Nestling closer to the hardness of Lyon’s chest, she looked back with wide eyes. This was going to be her home. As long as Lyon was here, then so was she, and she had to get to know these people, integrate into their society.
The sun was hot, prickling across any exposed skin. In the hospital gown and just a sheet, she felt naked and a little uncomfortable.
“Why are they all looking at me?” she whispered, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder and neck.
He chuckled in reply. A deep male sound of triumph-tinged amusement. “They’re not looking at you, sweetling, or they’d better not be. They’re looking at me.”
“Why?”
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“Because I’ve never taken a woman home.”
She blinked at that and sat up to look at him directly. “What? Ever? But…you’ve… Uhm…” Her words faltered as she tried to put into words what she was thinking without offending him. Instead she just gave him a “look”.
He read her mind easily. The look on his face was open and brutally honest as he replied.
“Yes, I’ve had women. But I’ve never found one I wanted to spend the rest of my life, or even longer than a night, with. Now that I’ve found her…that’s you in case you missed that…I’m not letting you go.”
The darkness in his eyes changed, heat swirling in the green depths that took her breath away. It made erotic promises of what was going to happen when he got her alone. She shivered, awed at the passion and feeling she could engender in him.
By the time he shouldered open the door of a small, one-level dwelling, the hum of excitement in Samara’s veins had risen to fever pitch. Ducking his head, he stepped into the coolness beyond the door and into a small living area.
It was neat and tidy. The usual for this type of colony building, the hardened plasti-foam walls extended into low couches and other furniture. She knew the type. She’d grown up in one.
He ignored the main room, sweeping right through it with the force of a tsunami, and into the sleeping area. Like all pod housing, the facilities were in a screened-off area in the same room.
Still holding her easily, Lyon stepped into the sonic cleanser and hit the button. The machine hummed as it activated. She sighed in relief as the waves washed over them, disintegrating the dirt and grime of the shuttle journey. It wasn’t as good as a water shower, but she didn’t care.
The cycle still running, he let go of her legs. Silence crowded into the little space with them, not that there was much with two of them in a cubicle designed for one and his massive shoulders taking up most of what was left.
A shiver ran through her as, deliberately, he slid her down his lean, hard body. And it was hard all over. Biting her lip, she pressed closer to him, desperate for the feel of his skin on hers. Ignored, the sheet fell away into a heap at their feet.
