Chapter Twelve
Lainey woke slowly, suffused with a sense of warmth and peace. Micah lay beside her, one arm draped protectively around her waist, the other cradling her head.
Content, she let her gaze move over him. What was there about this man that filled her with such peace, and what would she do when he was gone? She had known him such a short time, and yet he filled the empty places within her heart and soul in a way no else ever had.
Last night, she had fallen asleep in his arms. She had awakened several times, always fearing that he would be gone, but each time he had stroked her hair, urging her to go back to sleep, assuring her that everything would be all right.
In the middle of the night, cocooned in a cloak of darkness, she had let herself believe; but now, in the bright light of day, reality crowded in on her and she sat up, suddenly restless.
"What troubles you, Lainey?"
"I thought you were asleep."
"No."
"Have you been awake all night?"
Micah nodded. Eyes still closed, he asked the question that had kept sleep at bay. "Have you made up your mind?"
"About what?"
"My staying here. I told you I would leave this morning if you wished me to go."
"Look at me, Micah."
Slowly, he opened his eyes and met her gaze. He could have probed her mind for her decision, but if it was bad news, he didn't want to know it a moment sooner than necessary.
"I don't want you to go."
Relief, sweeter than Xanathian winter wine, washed through him. "Are you certain?"
Lainey nodded. "Maybe they'll never find you."
"Maybe."
She gazed into his eyes, willing him to read her mind, to know how desperately she needed to feel his arms around her.
"Lainey, what would you have me do?"
"Why don't you just read my mind, Micah?"
He shook his head, knowing he wouldn't venture into her thoughts again unless he thought she was in danger.
"No. If I am to stay, then your thoughts must be your own," he said, feeling guilty for stealing into her mind the night before. "I don't want you to feel as though you can have no secrets."
"I want you to stay, Micah. For as long as you can."
"Would you mind if I held you in my arms?"
Lainey laughed softly. "You held me all night. Why would I mind now?"
"Last night, you were asleep."
"I'm not asleep now."
Gently, he drew her into his embrace, marveling at the way her slim body molded itself to his. He had sought solitude for most of his adult life, preferring his own company to the company of others. Only now, holding Lainey in his arms, did he realize how lonely his existence had been.
"You can do more than hold me," Lainey said shyly. "If you want to."
Knowing how fragile her feelings were, how hard it had been for her to ask for his love, Micah chose his next words carefully, hoping she would understand that he had only her welfare in mind. Absently, his hand stroked her cheek.
"I want nothing more than to join with you, Lainey," he said, his knuckles lightly grazing her cheek, "but I have nothing with me to prevent conception, and…"
He felt her withdraw from him ever so slightly. "You don't have to make excuses, Micah."
"Lainey, you must know how much I want you."
"You don't need to worry, then," she said. "I can't have children."
The sadness and regret in her voice tore at his heart. "I'm sorry, Lainey."
She shrugged, as if it didn't matter, but it mattered very much. She had always wanted children, lots of children. She had gone to every doctor in town, even driven into the city to see a specialist, but they had all said the same thing—she was barren.
Murmuring her name, Micah stroked her hair, her back, hoping she would find comfort in his touch. He did not understand her longing for children. On Xanthia, he would have planted his seed in Adana, and then never seen her again. Out of curiosity, he might have gone to see his child when it was born, but he would never be a part of the child's upbringing, though he might observe the child as often as he wished, if he wished.
Lainey snuggled against him, a single tear trickling down her cheek. It was so unfair. Women all over the world had babies every day. Women who didn't want them. Women who abused them, left them in trash cans, tried to abort them. It just wasn't fair.
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Micah's touch wash over her. His nearness, the feel of his hand in her hair, seemed to draw the pain from her heart. If she couldn't have a child to love, she would love Micah for as long as she could.
She drew back a little, cupping his face in her hands. His eyes were filled with such tenderness, it made her heart ache and stirred a need deep within her, a need only he could satisfy.
"Micah." She whispered his name as she drew him closer.
Warmth and contentment suffused her as his mouth closed over hers. His hands adored her, making her feel beautiful, desired.
Their lovemaking was unlike anything she had ever known, a joining not only of their flesh, but of hearts and souls and minds. She sensed his need for her, his affection, his desire to please her, to shield her from pain and harm.
He murmured to her, love words spoken in her language and his, his voice thick with passion.
And then, as his seed spilled into her, filling her with warmth and pleasure beyond words, she felt as if she'd been reborn.
Lainey sat up, and then groaned as she heard her mother call her name. Of all times for her parents to make an unannounced visit, she thought. She glanced at Micah, sleeping beside her.
"Lainey?" Her mother's voice, coming nearer.
"I'll be right there!" she hollered.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and hurried out of the room before her mother came looking for her.
"Hi, Mom," Lainey said, steering her mother toward the kitchen. "What are you doing here so early?"
"Did you forget you invited us to breakfast this morning?" her father asked cheerfully.
"Breakfast?" Lainey blinked at her father. So much had happened in the last few days, she had forgotten.
"Get dressed," her mother said. "I'll put the coffee on while you shower."
With a nod, Lainey left the parlor, wondering how she was going to explain Micah's presence to her parents. It didn't matter that she was a grown woman, that she'd been married and divorced. She was their only child, and she'd always be their "little girl."
Micah was awake when she returned to the bedroom. He looked at her askance when she entered the room.
"My folks are here," Lainey explained.
"Does their presence create a problem?" he asked, noting the look of dismay in her eyes.
"No, not really, it's just that…"
"What?"
"You," she said. "How do I explain your being here so early in the morning?"
He stared at her, not understanding.
Lainey let out a sigh of exasperation. "I don't know how things are done where you come from, but my parents aren't very open-minded when it comes to… to…"
She felt her cheeks grow hot as she gestured at the bed. "They don't believe in sex outside of marriage. And I didn't either," she mumbled sheepishly, "until I met you."
"Ah," Micah said, understanding at last. "What do you want me to do?"
"Get dressed."
Filled with trepidation, she went into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.
"You're a big girl," she murmured as she lathered her arms and legs, "a big girl, a big girl. You're entitled to live your own life."
She was still muttering to herself when she walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later.
"So," she asked brightly, "what would you like for breakfast?"
It was then that the shower went on again.
Ralph St. John looked at his daughter, a question in his eyes.
"I have a houseguest," Lainey said, refusing to meet her
father's eyes. "So, what will it be? Waffles? Eggs? French toast?"
"Ham and eggs and wheat toast for me," Ralph said.
Dolores St. John tied an apron around her waist. "Who's your guest, dear?"
"Just a friend," Lainey said, stalling. Opening the refrigerator, she withdrew the ingredients for breakfast. "Mom, would you slice the ham, please?"
She knew the minute Micah entered the room. Her father, who had been complaining about the president's new health-care plan, stopped in mid-sentence. Her mother, who had been setting the table, dropped a handful of silverware on the floor.
Lainey felt her cheeks grow hot as her parents looked to her for an explanation. It was obvious they had assumed her friend was female.
Who is this man? their eyes seemed to say, and why is he coming out of your bedroom at this hour of the morning?
Lainey took a deep, calming breath, then pasted a smile on her face. "Mom, Dad, this is Micah. Micah, these are my parents, Ralph and Dolores St. John."
The silence was deafening.
Her father recovered first. Rising, he extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr…"
"Just Micah."
The two men shook hands.
"Sit down, Micah," Lainey said. "Breakfast is almost ready."
Dolores was still staring at Micah, who had bent down to retrieve the silverware she'd dropped.
"Mom?"
"What?"
"Maybe you'd better sit down, too."
"Yes, I think so," Dolores muttered.
Micah sat down at the head of the table, impassively enduring the scrutiny of Lainey's parents. Dolores St. John was a plump, pretty woman with short, curly black hair, a beautiful complexion, and vibrant blue eyes. Ralph St. John was tall, tan, and muscular, with dark brown hair and brown eyes.
Lainey quickly dished up breakfast, then sat down across from Micah.
"Dad, will you say grace?"
Ralph grunted assent, then lowered his head, his deep voice asking the Lord's blessing on the food and the hands that had prepared it.
"Thanks, Dad. Mom, will you pass the orange juice, please?''
"So," Dolores said, coming right to the point, "how long have you two known each other?"
"Not long," Lainey said. She glanced at her father and saw the knowing gleam in his eye. So, his gaze said, this is the man you thought you'd never see again.
The telltale flush in her cheeks was all the answer her father needed.
"Lainey tells me you're a pilot," Ralph commented. "What airline do you fly for?"
"He's not a commercial pilot, Dad," Lainey said quickly.
Ralph grunted. "Air Force?"
"Yes," Micah replied.
"Been flying long?"
"About fifteen years."
Ralph nodded. "I take it you're a career man, then?"
"Yes."
"Dad's a mechanic for Southwest Airlines," Lainey said, winking at her father. "Mom's been trying to get him to retire for years, but he just can't leave the planes alone."
Ralph looked at Micah and shrugged. "You know how it is. There's something about being around those big jets."
"Flying gets in a man's blood," Micah agreed.
"Are you here on vacation?" Dolores asked.
Micah grinned. "In a way."
"How long will you be here?"
"I'm not sure. I'm on an extended leave."
Lainey felt herself relax as Micah deftly parried her parents' questions. It was obvious that her mother thought Lainey had made the catch of a lifetime. Her father, too, seemed pleased, but then, he had a high regard for men in the armed services.
"That was good, pumpkin," Ralph said. Pushing his chair away from the table, he patted his stomach, then looked at Micah and winked. "She was always a heck of a cook. Even as a little girl, she loved to pretend she was cooking, always making mud pies."
"Thanks, Dad," Lainey said dryly. "Would you like some more coffee?"
"I've never turned down a cup of coffee in my life," he said with a grin. "No reason to start now."
"You men go on into the living room," Dolores said. "I'll help Lainey clean up in here."
Lainey groaned inwardly, dreading the third degree she knew was coming.
"Just leave the dishes, Mom." Lainey took off her apron, picked up the coffee pot and four cups, and followed her father into the front room.
The next hour passed pleasantly enough. Micah fielded her parents' questions with ease, apparently unperturbed by her mother's sometimes tactless attempt to delve into his past. Nevertheless, she was glad when her father said it was time to go.
She closed the door with a sigh, then rested against it. "Well, I'm glad that's over," she muttered.
"I like them," Micah said.
"Me, too, but…" She made a gesture of exasperation. "I know my mother was just dying to get me alone so she could ask me what's going on between us."
"You mean this?" Micah asked, pressing a kiss to her brow.
Lainey nodded, feeling her senses stir at his nearness.
He rested his forehead against hers, his hands circling her waist. "They care for you a great deal."
"Of course. Didn't your mother and father love you?"
"I never knew them."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
He shook his head at the sympathy he read in her eyes. "On my planet, children are not raised by their parents."
Lainey looked at him in horror. "They're not?"
"No. The young are raised in dormitories until they're old enough to look after themselves."
They moved to the sofa and sat down while Lainey digested that bit of information. "That's awful!"
"It wasn't awful, Lainey," he said, but even as he defended the ways of his people, he was aware of a sense of loss, of having missed the love that Lainey's parents obviously felt for her.
"Ours is a very ordered and regimented society," he went on, repeating words he'd heard a hundred times before and wondering, for the first time, at the reasoning behind them. "Children are tested at a young age. Those judged above average are tested again later. It was decided that I would be a navigator, and I was raised with that goal in mind."
"Did you want to be a navigator?"
"Always."
"But… but what if you wanted to be something else?"
"I was given a choice. No one is forced to do something he dislikes, but the tests are very discerning. Most of my people are assigned to areas where they excel."
"But you never knew your parents." Lainey couldn't imagine such a society. She thought of the trips her family had taken to Yosemite and the Grand Canyon, of the happy, noisy Christmases shared with her parents and aunts and uncles and cousins. The baseball games she'd gone to with her dad. The shopping sprees with her mother. Remembering, she was struck anew by the longing to have a child of her own.
"Did you ever try to find out who your parents were?"
"I knew who they were," Micah said. "My father was also a navigator. My mother was a brilliant scientist. I saw them occasionally, but I never really knew them." He took her hand in his, his thumb making concentric circles on the back. "There is no such thing as marriage on my planet, Lainey. My mother and father were chosen as mates based on their intelligence and physical attributes."
It just got worse and worse. Lainey shook her head, unable to comprehend such a world, or such an existence. And then she frowned. "Has someone been chosen for you?"
"Yes. Her name is Adana."
"I guess she's very smart and beautiful."
"Very."
"Oh."
"Lainey…"
"I guess you're anxious to go back to her."
Micah's gaze met hers. "You know better than that."
She did, but she couldn't stifle the fierce jealousy that burned in her heart when she thought of Micah with another woman. A beautiful woman. An intelligent woman. A woman who was capable of bearing his child.
"Lainey."
She heard the question
in his voice, saw the sudden heat of passion flare in the depths of his silver-blue eyes as his palm cupped her cheek.
At her nod, he stood up, then lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Reverently, he lowered her to the bed, then stretched out beside her. "You're so beautiful."
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, marveling at the softness of her skin, the pale golden color, so unlike his own. She would never be able to blend in with his people. Her black hair and fair skin would elicit stares wherever she went. His people would think of her as an oddity, but he thought her the loveliest creature he had ever seen.
He tangled one hand in the silk of her hair. "Had I never met you, I would have gotten Adana with child and never spared her another thought. Until now, I never questioned the ways of my people, never had any desire to share my life with a woman." His fingertips traced her lower lip. "Such a thing is unheard of where I come from. But now…"
He swallowed hard, wishing he had the words to express the feelings in his heart, but words of love, like the concept of marriage, were foreign to him.
"Lainey, Lainey…" He murmured her name as he slowly undressed her.
No one had ever looked at her the way Micah did. He made her feel as if she were the most precious thing in his life, as if, by letting him hold her and caress her, she was giving him a gift beyond price.
"Lainey?"
The hesitation in his voice filled her with apprehension. "What?"
"Would you mind if… if…"
"Micah, you're scaring me."
"I want to make love to you in my own skin, so to speak."
"Oh," she said, her breath expelling in relief. "Is that all?"
"It's all right then?"
"Yes." She smiled her assurance, though she harbored a small doubt, wondering if Xanthian male anatomy would be different from that of males from Earth.
Micah closed his eyes and she felt him relax beside her, saw the gradual changes take place as his hair grew lighter, his skin darker. Watching him, she couldn't help wondering if all the men of Xanthia were as ruggedly handsome of face and form as Micah.
SUNLIGHT, MOONLIGHT Page 9
