Mike shot her another quick look, his face turning ruddy. “I drew up a marriage contract. I figured you two would want to choose the length, though, so I left that—"
"What the hell were you thinking, Uncle Mike?” Mea couldn't look at Stone, too afraid that she'd see panic written on his face. They hadn't ever discussed marriage—coming from Mike, Stone might see this as a trap, another way to imprison him. He might bolt. “How could you do this, without discussing it with us?"
"I just thought—"
"Obviously you didn't think!” she snapped. Stone had yet to make a sound. Anger mixed with fear, tightening her stomach into a painful knot. “Being our director doesn't give you the right to meddle in our private lives! What made you think you could railroad us into a marriage contract?"
"I wasn't trying to railroad you—"
"The hell you weren't! This is completely unacceptable, Uncle Mike—"
"You don't wanna marry me,” Stone said in a flat, toneless voice.
Mea pulled her eyes away from the director and looked at Stone. Tension radiated from him, his mouth compressing in a straight line and a muscle jumping in his jaw. His eyes pierced her clean through, dark accusation mingling with anger and what might have been hurt.
Licking her lips and swallowing painfully past a dry throat, she murmured, “I never said that."
"The hell you didn't,” he snarled. “You said ‘unacceptable.’”
"I was talking about Mike's behavior,” she tried to clarify, unable to stop herself from reaching out to him.
He jerked away from her touch, lunging to his feet and pacing back and forth. “Sure you were. Why'd you want me anyway, a reject ex-con with blood on his hands and a record a light-year long—"
"Stop it, Bay!” she snapped, anger and confusion bringing heat to her cheeks. “You know I love you, love everything about you—"
"Prove it,” he growled, stalking up to her chair and bracing his hands on the armrests, his grim face looming over her. “Marry me."
Mea stared up at him in shock. Did he just demand that she marry him? His expression was bitter and angry, but his eyes held an intensity that pulled at her like a magnet. Clearing her throat, she said in a careful, measured tone, “All right."
He straightened abruptly, surprise relaxing the tension on his face. “All right?” he asked.
"Yes,” she responded, feeling a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
Warren was snickering in the background, but Mea didn't take her eyes off of the man standing over her.
Stone didn't seem aware of their audience. He shifted in place, still watching her with those intense dark eyes. “You want to marry me."
"Yes,” Mea said softly, unable to stop the smile from spreading and curling her lips upwards.
"You never said so,” he muttered, folding his arms across his chest and frowning at her.
"I didn't want to push you. You tend to run away when pushed."
His frown turned into a scowl. “I said I was stayin’ this time."
"There was the possibility that you'd change your mind,” Mea said as diplomatically as she could, trying to contain the bubble of relieved, joyful laughter that expanded in her chest.
With a low sound in his throat, he leaned over her again, hands braced on either side. “Never,” he growled, and then lowered his mouth to hers.
The seductive demand of his lips and tongue burned all thought from her mind and made her forget where they were—as usual. She returned his kiss with growing fire, pulling him closer, no other consideration in her mind except claiming him for her own. It took Uncle Mike three tries to get their attention, and he finally had to resort to bellowing, “All right, break it up!” to get any results.
Under Mike's disgruntled glare, Stone pulled away, running a distracted hand over his stubbled head. Mea straightened in her seat, trying not to look like she was in the middle of spontaneous combustion. She could hear Warren snickering even louder behind her, but she did her best to ignore it.
"Can we get back to business?” Mike barked, shoving the contracts at them.
"You still shouldn't have drawn up the marriage contract without consulting us, Uncle Mike,” Mea said, trying to sound stern and falling far short.
"Hell, Warren tells me you two were walking around that subject like it was a time bomb. Figured I'd stop that foolishness right here and now."
Mea shot Warren a glare over her shoulder, but he had his face buried in one hand, shoulders shaking with laughter. “He so loves his games,” she muttered, lifting an eyebrow at Mike. “I'm surprised you fell for this one. You've known him longer than I have."
"He had a point,” her director grumbled, looking from her to Stone with a disgusted expression. “The whole galaxy can see you two are supposed to be together. Decide on a marriage length and sign the damned thing already."
She glanced up at Stone to find him watching the director with an arrested expression, as if he'd never seen the man before. Maybe he was surprised that Uncle Mike was not only willing to see them get hitched, but was being damned pushy about it. She could sympathize.
"Do you think you could handle a five y—"
"Lifetime,” Stone interrupted, still staring at the director.
"Pardon?” she sputtered, gazing up at him in shock. Again.
He met her eyes, his face implacable as he folded his arms across his chest and repeated with stubborn insistence, “Lifetime contract. No less."
"Bay, nobody does that long. Ten years is the max I've heard of—"
"Lifetime, damn it,” he growled, his scowl coming back full force.
"Just listen to me,” she said, trying to keep a hold on her patience. “A shorter contract protects us both, while still giving us the option to renew. What happens if you get tired of me after five years and we're stuck in a lifetime contract?"
"That's not gonna happen!” he shouted, facing her with fists clenched and a flush climbing his neck. Through gritted teeth, he snarled, “I'm yours until I die. What about you, gonna get tired of me?"
"Of course not! I'm just trying to protect you..."
Warren was now laughing outright, and Mea could barely hear herself over the noise he was making. Shooting him an irritable look, she said, “Regan, honey, will you do me a favor—"
"I'm on it,” Regan chirped, a huge grin on her face as she grabbed the convulsed android's arm and tugged, pulling him towards the door. There was a sparkle in her daughter's eyes and a lightness to her step that warmed Mea's heart, and she couldn't stop a smile from curling her lips as she watched them leave.
Uncle Mike pushed away from his desk and rose to his feet. “I've got better things to do than watch you two bumble around each other,” he snorted, giving them another disgusted look before heading towards the door. “Let me know when you've vacated my office."
Mea shook her head and turned her attention back to Stone. He was still glowering down at her. Sighing, she rose and stepped close to him, running her hands down the hard muscles of his arms to his fists. With insistent pressure, she worked his hands open until her fingers twinned with his, watching his eyes all the while. There was a fine film of perspiration on his brow, and a faint crease between his eyes.
"Bay, my feelings for you are not going to change, but signing a lifetime contract is foolish."
"No, it's not,” he growled, placing their twinned hands in the small of her back and pulling her against him. “You said I'm yours and you're mine. Did you mean it?"
"Yes,” she sighed, unable to stop herself from melting against his hard length.
"How long did you mean it for?"
"Forever,” she said simply, captured by the vivid midnight of his eyes.
Lowering his head, he murmured against her lips, “Then what's the problem?” before he set her on fire with the slow, hot seduction of his mouth.
It took them a long while to get around to signing the contracts.
* * * *
"Enjoye
d yourselves, did you?” Mea asked with dry humor, watching the grinning pair sitting across from her and Stone in the transport.
"Come on, you gotta admit it's a little funny,” Warren snickered, his brown eyes twinkling. “A couple of fearless hunters floundering around in a total panic over a little contract."
"You got a piss poor sense of humor,” Stone muttered, giving the android a sour look.
"This from the man who doesn't have one,” Warren responded, his grin taking on a faint, malicious edge.
Seeing a maiming in the near future, Mea tried distraction, turning her attention to Regan. “Did Warren tell you what mischief he'd stirred up?"
"Yeah,” the girl said, her grin slipping a little as she glanced from Warren to Mea. “I would have told you, but I was afraid you'd ... ah...” Her expression became a bit sheepish as she dipped her chin and looked at Stone through her lashes.
"Bolt,” Mea supplied with a quirk of her lips, pretending not to see Stone's aggravated look or hear his low growl.
Tactfully, Regan said nothing, shooting her mother a nervous smile while she avoided looking at
Stone. Warren had less tact, laughing softly and shaking his head at the larger man.
The maiming loomed closer, so Mea changed the subject entirely. “Not much time to celebrate. Uncle Mike's sending us out again."
Stone grunted, a faint crease appearing between his brows. “We got time to get the rings?"
Mea stared at him blankly. “Rings?"
"Yeah, rings. Y'know, because we got married,” he said, lifting his left hand in a casual gesture, fingers outspread.
Mea continued staring at him, lost. “What are you talking about?"
"He means wedding rings, marriage bands,” Warren interjected, his tone rich with amusement. “It was an old custom to wear a ring on the third finger of the left hand when married. The circle of the ring was supposed to symbolize eternal love, unending commitment, that sort of thing. And possession, to mark your mate,” he added with a snicker.
"That's ... lovely,” Mea said with a wry look at the android, before turning her attention to Stone. “But as hunters we can't wear rings."
He narrowed his eyes on her, stretching an arm across the back of her seat. “Why not?” he asked in a hard tone.
Here we go again, she thought with an inner sigh. “It would interfere with our equipment, the shocker, the sensor glove, the dart rings. Plus, it's dangerous to wear anything that can get ripped off, along with whatever flesh it's attached to. That's why we don't wear piercings or necklaces, armbands...” Her voice trailed off as his expression grew darker with ever word.
"Woman, are we married or not?"
"I do remember signing something to that effect,” she said dryly.
"Then we wear rings."
"We can't,” she gritted with waning patience.
The transport settled with a faint bump in front of the Starfire as Stone's scowl made its reappearance. Mea eyed his expression with a sinking heart. This was going to be a long day.
* * * *
Regan flinched as something crashed on the level above, probably in the mess. With wide eyes, she glanced up at the ceiling of the training room before meeting Warren's gaze in mute dismay.
"Don't worry, munchkin. It's just a fight. All couples fight."
"But they've been at it for days,” she whispered, hardly able to force the words past the terror lodged in her throat.
"A day and a half. They'll get over it soon. Or kill each other,” he added in a mutter, shooting an ironic look at the ceiling. When she whimpered, his expression became contrite and he was quick to say, “Kidding! I was just kidding, squirt. They wouldn't hurt each other.” He ruffled her hair and pulled her into a one-armed hug.
She accepted the affection gratefully, leaning into his solid form. “But—but what if...” she tried, but couldn't voice her greatest fear aloud. Saying it might make it more real, might put her one step closer to being alone and orphaned again. “I thought they'd be okay when they signed,” she mumbled, turning her head so it was tucked under Warren's chin.
"They are okay, Regan,” he said with calm assurance. “One measly fight isn't going to break those two up. You're a family now, and that's not going to change just because they do a bit of yelling and throw things."
"Think he'll ever adopt me?” she asked in a muffled voice, her face pressed against his shirt.
"I'm surprised he hasn't already. But sometimes he needs a little prodding. I think I'll make that my next project,” he said with no small amount of relish.
She grinned, wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing. “Thanks, Warren."
He squeezed back and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “My pleasure, short stuff. Now, let's get back to your lesson. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I can go clean up whatever mess they've made now."
Straightening, she faced the interactive hologram again with a steadier heart, though concentrating on molecular biology now was not going to be easy.
"Parents,” she muttered in exasperation, but with a secret thrill of delight. She could get used to saying that word.
* * * *
"Would you give it up?” Mea snapped, feeling as though her skull was going to explode from the throbbing pressure beneath it. “We have a hunt to get on with."
"You're makin’ excuses,” Stone growled, as he clipped on his equipment with quick, hard motions. “If you wanted to bad enough, you'd wear one."
"I just don't see the point,” she groaned, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes against the sight of his stubborn mien.
"You don't want anybody to know you took an ex-con for a mate?"
Dropping hands to hips, she glared at him. “Is that what this is about, marking me for the galaxy to see? Why don't you just brand my ass and get it over with, Bay!"
"It's not about that!” he snarled, his eyes flashing with dark accusation.
"Then what is it about? Enlighten me."
He dropped his gaze without answering, his mouth a tight line and expression hard as he yanked dart rings onto his hands.
Gritting her teeth in frustration, she ground out, “Wearing a ring is impractical, not to mention an outdated and ridiculous practice. I won't do it."
"You feel that way about our marriage, too?” he asked without meeting her gaze, his voice tight. “Contracts are just scrap data. You can erase ‘em as easy as you erased my old life. No wonder you didn't fuss much about signing."
"Stop it, Bay. You're being—"
"Outdated? Ridiculous?” he snarled, shooting her a black look. “Just ‘cause I want somethin’ to show we're married—"
"You think a ring will do that, that it's more permanent than a contract? What makes you think I wouldn't just scrap that, too?"
She regretted the words the instant they tumbled from her lips, but his expression as he slowly raised his head turned the regret to a bitter remorse that closed her throat. His eyes were pools of empty blackness as he stripped the dart rings off and dropped them at her feet.
"Like the ‘droid said, it's a symbol. Guess it's pretty clear what it symbolizes for you,” he muttered, his tone as cold as his eyes. Then he turned on his heel and left the ship.
She hunted alone. When she returned with the target, Stone was still gone. After securing the target in cryo, she wandered the ship and fought with herself over whether or not to go after him. But past experience had taught her that chasing after him only made him run harder. So she continued to pace through the corridors of the Starfire, avoiding Warren's knowing looks and Regan's pale worry. Hours passed in empty silence.
Stone's return was less dramatic than his departure. Mea heard the hatch open and saw him disappear into the mess as she stepped out of the cargo bay. Warren and Regan were hot on her heels as she followed him into the mess. They found him seated at the table with a meal, his face expressionless as he ate.
"Where have you been?” Mea blurted, unable to cur
b the edge of anxiety in her tone.
He flashed her an unreadable glance and growled, “Out."
Mea pressed her lips together, moving forward to lean against the table and fold her arms across her chest. Watching him eat, she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't start another fight.
Regan followed her, grasping the edge of the table as she eyed Stone with a faint crease in her brow. “Dad, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, kid,” he rumbled, as he paused to lift a glass to his lips for a drink.
It was then that Mea noticed the mark at the base of the third finger on his left hand. Focusing on it, she could see that it was a tattoo, black etching in bold scrollwork, circling that finger.
"What is that?” she asked softly, as her heart began to drum in her chest.
He set the glass down hard enough to spill and glared at her, his face set and his eyes piercing her with their intensity. “You might not want to wear my ring, but I'm damned sure gonna wear yours,” he snarled.
Heat spilled out through her body and roared in her ears as the impact of his words sank in. Her entire body felt as though it was vibrating.
"Uh-oh, looks like your mom's about to lose it, squirt,” Warren snickered at the door. “We'd better go."
Mea was barely aware of them leaving, still captured by the midnight force of Stone's eyes.
"Are you gonna lose it?” he asked in a low murmur.
"Probably,” she whispered, glancing down at the mark on his hand—her mark.
He was gripping the glass so hard his knuckles were white.
"It's a word. What does it say?” she managed to ask as she eased towards him.
"Freedom,” he said simply.
With a faint sound that could have been a whimper, she reached for him, straddling his lap with a swiftness born of desperate need. He was just as quick to pull her to him, hands pressing her against his hardness as she lowered her mouth to his.
"Husband,” she whispered against his lips, her voice a throb of need and elation.
His hands tightened almost to the point of pain, and he surged forward with a low growl in his throat, knocking the dishes to the floor as he pressed her down on the table. “Wife,” he rumbled, eyes glittering with fierce possession.
Heart of Stone Page 2
