by Patti O'Shea
After taking another sip, Stacey replaced the cup on the saucer and stared into the garden. Life was a gamble, a risk. She’d taken her chances and she’d lost. Part of her felt as if it were dying, but better a fast death than the slow strangulation she’d been living with. It wasn’t any surprise—she’d gone into this relationship with her eyes wide open. She’d known what Alex was like and there was no one to blame but herself for her broken heart. Her broken dreams.
This decision to leave him and return to Earth hadn’t been made in the heat of the moment. For some time now, she’d been considering her options. Of course, getting pregnant hadn’t been one of them, but sometimes the universe had a sense of humor.
A warped sense of humor.
She should have reminded Alex again that he needed to get the shot. The post doctor had been concerned about some indications she’d seen on Stacey’s tests and wanted her off birth control for at least six months to see if the results normalized. Sullivan had been willing to take on the responsibility when she’d brought it up, but the one time she’d reminded him, he’d become short-tempered and told her he’d take care of it. Apparently, he hadn’t.
Stacey used her index fingers to wipe the unshed tears from her eyes. She didn’t regret the baby, but the timing couldn’t be worse. Well, she’d handle it—women had been raising children alone since the dawn of time.
What she needed to do now was arrange to be on the transport when it left Jarved Nine next week. She doubted that would be a problem, though. The only reason she was on this planet at all was because Alex had pulled strings and had CAT Command assign her to the Western Alliance project. The Colonization Assessment Team leaders would want her back if for no other reason than to cut the ties to the military. They didn’t like the precedent it set.
Before she did that, though, she needed to pack. Although she hated putting her friend in the middle, she knew Ravyn would let her stay in her home until the transport left for Earth.
No matter what, Stacey wasn’t spending another night under the same roof with Alex Sullivan.
Chapter Five
“Damn it, Wyatt, hold still!”
Wyatt swallowed a curse. “You need to hurry.”
And she did. He’d been right—the room was airtight. Their breathing and pulse rates had increased and their coordination was off. With the army going into space, Wyatt had been trained to recognize the signs of oxygen deprivation, and they had all the symptoms. When the level fell a few percentage points lower, both of them would drop into unconsciousness without warning.
They’d spent hours and hours checking every portion of the walls they could reach from the floor and hadn’t found a trigger. Now he had Kendall sitting up on his shoulders, letting her feel around in the area near the ceiling; it was a stretch for her. What worried him was they were already more than halfway through and had yet to find a way out. He stepped to his side.
“Wyatt!” she protested.
“We’re running short on air.”
“So you’re saying we don’t have time to do it right, but we have time to do it over?” Bug barely paused. “Wait until I indicate that I’m ready before you move.”
His hands tightened around her knees, but he didn’t argue with her. She had a point. He didn’t think they were going to have a chance to redo their search. The next stage in oxygen deficiency was nausea, maybe vomiting. They weren’t to that level yet, but Wyatt didn’t think they were far off. Kendall’s leg pressed into him and he moved a few feet.
Since meeting her, he’d played out a lot of different scenarios on how their lives might go, but he’d never pictured it ending this soon. Four months. It was nowhere near long enough. He wanted to be able to kiss her, to pull her body against his and hold her without worrying about spooking her. Hell, he wanted to make love with her and wake up with her in his arms.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d pictured it, the number of ways he’d imagined loving her. Sure, he had memories of that other life, memories of when her name was Zolianna and his Berkant, memories of covering her with his body, of thrusting inside her until they both found pleasure, but they weren’t those people anymore. And now that he knew her as Kendall, recalling the times with Zolianna weren’t enough to satisfy him. She stretched higher and Wyatt swayed before he caught his balance.
Gripping Bug more firmly, he took a deep breath to steady himself. He’d been so smug, so certain that when he found her again, things would easily fall into place. Big miscalculation.
First off, Kendall hadn’t recognized him as someone with whom she’d shared another life. Secondly, any advantage he thought he had since he did remember was soon proven to be nonexistent. Kendall’s personality was radically different from Zolianna’s. His Bug might be soft-spoken, but she didn’t hesitate to raise hell when she deemed it necessary—the consequences be damned. As Zolianna she’d been more passive, preferring to ride the current rather than swim upstream. She signaled him again and he inched over carefully.
But it was the third factor, one that had nothing to do with any past life, that gave him the most grief. Bug’s upbringing.
She’d shared enough for him to realize that her mother hadn’t been much when it came to practical matters. Those had fallen to Kendall at a young age. On top of that, her childhood had been nomadic, and she’d never stayed in any place long enough to put down roots. Bug must have learned fast not to let anyone too close, that she’d only lose the friendship when she moved on, and she continued to hold people at a distance. Even him.
“Now he stands still.” Kendall’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.
“Sorry.” Wyatt shifted. He’d missed her sign and he had to pay attention. If there was a chance in hell of preventing it, he wouldn’t let her suffocate. Although as far as methods of dying went, this was a damn sight better than last time.
Deciding he didn’t want to think about death, he let his thoughts return to loving Bug. He’d go slow, savor every second with her. Wyatt’s eyes slid half shut as he envisioned lazily stripping her, letting his gaze, his hands, his mouth worship her long, lean body. He’d kiss her for hours, memorize her taste, before moving on to her breasts.
Hours. Right. As bad as he wanted her, he’d be lucky to hang on for minutes. Wyatt’s lips curved. Hell with it. This was his fantasy; if he wanted to last hours, he could.
Okay, so he’d move to her breasts. He’d tease her with his fingertips first, make her nipples peak before—
“Wyatt, are you okay?”
The demand in her voice—and the thread of fear—puzzled him. “Yeah, why?”
“Because I signaled you to move, and you didn’t. Again.” Her hand cupped his cheek and he could feel her bend over, trying to see his face. The realignment of her weight threw his balance off and he staggered to keep them both from going down.
Maybe he wasn’t okay. He was normally damn agile and he should have been able to make the correction without trouble. Wyatt stepped to his right when he regained his equilibrium. “Bug, maybe it would be best if you stayed as still as possible.”
Her fingers tightened on his cheek, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she released him and he felt her reach above her head. Neither of them talked as she continued to pat the stone. Wyatt put aside his sexual daydreams and struggled to focus. His thoughts drifted from time to time, but he remained aware of Kendall; when she gave the indication he moved.
Without a watch, he didn’t know how long it took, but it seemed like forever before they reached the corner. It was tempting to lean his shoulder into the stone, to let it help support him, but he couldn’t. Not with Kendall perched up there.
Nausea had set in a while ago. He only hoped he didn’t pass out before Bug had her feet on the floor.
“Talk to me right now! Damn it, Wyatt, do you hear me?”
Wyatt blinked. Shit, he’d been in a daze. It was clear that their time was running short. “What’s up?” There was a hesitation and he e
xpected Kendall to cross examine him.
Instead, she said, “I think I found something, but my fingertip only brushes it. I need to lift up a few more inches.”
Her words didn’t make sense—not immediately—then it sank in. “Okay, let me brace myself. Can you raise high enough on your own if I hang on to you?”
There was about five seconds of silence, then, “Yeah, I think so, but you’re going to have to remain steady.” Kendall didn’t sound too positive that he’d be able to do that.
Taking a deep breath, he shifted into a stronger position. “I’m set, but move slowly; no sudden jerks if you can help it.”
As she began to stretch upward, she pressed more firmly against the back of his head, and Wyatt gripped her legs tightly. He felt her attempt to gain more height. In other circumstances, he might have suggested they try it with her kneeling on his shoulders, but not now. Not when he was barely keeping himself stable. The thought of Kendall taking a tumble from that stance to a solid marble floor was too frightening to contemplate.
“Can you step closer to the wall?” she asked.
He could, but not much. Bug made a noise he took to mean satisfaction and he leaned his forehead against the stone as he waited. She was having a lot less trouble—or appeared to be having less trouble—than he was with the lower levels of oxygen, but he wasn’t sure why. Kendall was exerting herself as much as, if not more than, he was.
There was a light stroke on his cheek. “I need you to let me get down for a minute.”
Shaking his head in the hope of clearing his thoughts, he loosened his hold and helped her slide from his shoulders. From her tone of voice, she’d made the request more than once and his lack of response was worrying her. The thing was, no matter how often he told himself to stay alert, he couldn’t. She seemed to realize that he was struggling and she’d taken over. Wyatt managed to quirk his lips. He was okay with Bug in charge. Since she appeared to be thinking more clearly than he was, she was her own best hope of getting out of here alive.
Kendall went to her bag, dug in the side pocket and pulled something out. It wasn’t until she returned that he saw she held a couple of hairpins. “Stay with me, okay? I think I can pull what I’m feeling with one of these things,” she held up the hand with the pins, “but you have to hang in there.”
“I’m trying, Bug.” He wanted to kiss her, but instead he crouched down and let her climb back up on his shoulders. Wyatt swayed as he stood. It was the feel of Kendall clutching him that forced him to dig deeper, to find the balance needed to keep her steady. Without saying a word, he edged as close to the gray wall as he could and focused on her warm muscles to stay somewhat focused. Wyatt heard an occasional grunt, a couple of muttered curses, and watched a bent pin land at his feet.
“Ha! Got you.” Kendall’s center of gravity shifted as she yanked at something and he scrambled to keep from dropping her. He heard a rasping, grating sound and she whooped as she shook off his hold and slipped down to the floor again. Wyatt leaned forward, letting his head rest on the wall. There was a scraping against his brow, but he didn’t move, just let the rock abrade his skin. Then Kendall’s hands were on his arms, tugging him back from the stone. Only Wyatt didn’t stop moving. He felt her try to prop him up, but he was too heavy for her. The best she managed was to slow his descent to the floor.
Bug was talking; he could make out her voice and the anxiety in it, but he couldn’t hang on any longer. Wyatt tried one more time to concentrate, but the darkness was beckoning strongly, and he lost the battle to remain cognizant.
*** *** ***
He stopped and stared. Heru, she was beautiful, and only grew more so each season. Over and over he told himself that he should stay away—it was best for them both—but his need for her overwhelmed good sense. There was no denying that Zolianna held his heart in her hands.
She was reading at her desk, head bent, and he shifted as he continued to drink in the sight of her. That slight movement was enough. Straightening, she turned in his direction. As she identified him, her expression changed, became softer, welcoming, and filled with love. In a trice, she was crossing the chamber and he met her midway, his arms going around her. Feeling her body against his soothed something inside him, something that ached whenever they were parted.
Contentment couldn’t last, however. His hands found the fastening of her robes, and he pushed them from her shoulders, baring her to his hands, his gaze. Her own hands weren’t idle and in moments he was as naked as she. The heat of her skin against his had him growing taut, and it made him recall how long he had been without her. Too long.
Cupping her breasts, he gently teased her with the pads of his thumbs. Her shiver of awareness, the way her nipples peaked, increased the heat he felt. Berkant disliked it when his job took him outside the city walls and away from her, but it wasn’t as if he could refuse. She understood; the demands of her position and her responsibilities were every bit as great as his.
With a hunger he made no effort to hide, he took her mouth, kissing her almost savagely as the desire—the need—he’d kept pent up erupted from him. After a moment, he attempted to regain control, to adore her as she deserved, but she leaned into him and the fire raged free once more.
It didn’t frighten her. Zolianna matched him kiss for kiss, caress for caress, her touch as eager as his. With little effort, she drove him to fever pitch. There’d be no lengthy bout of foreplay—not this time. He picked her up, placed her carefully atop the bed, and followed her down, lying at her side. Although he meant to slacken his pace, he couldn’t, and instead, drew her against him for another frenzied kiss. He needed badly to merge with her. Slipping his hand between her legs, he probed gently. He smiled as he felt how her body had dampened.
Without his being aware of it, their positions changed and he had his head in her lap as she leaned over him, her hand rubbing circles over his heart. He reached up, brought her mouth to his, and relished her soft moan as she hesitantly returned his kiss. Triumph surged through him as she opened her mouth and allowed him to deepen their contact. His erection throbbed, and he eased back until his lips but brushed hers. “Zolianna,” he murmured.
She jerked away—
“Wyatt! Come on, Wyatt, look at me.”
While he heard the worry—and insistence—in Bug’s voice, he wasn’t able to open his eyes. Not yet. Lethargy held him in its grip and it was too much effort to struggle through it. If they were in danger, he’d try anyway, but since he’d sort of regained consciousness, Wyatt guessed she’d gotten them some air.
Her fingers stroked his chest and he managed a faint smile. Until the caress stirred a vague memory. Shit, it hadn’t been fantasy; he’d kissed her for real, and she was going to rabbit on him. Unless... If Bug thought he didn’t remember, she might not feel a need to pull away. It was worth a shot. His desire to assess the damage that kiss had done—and Bug’s persistent voice—prompted Wyatt to work on surfacing. He forced his eyelids open.
“How are you feeling?” Kendall asked, voice subdued.
Blinking to clear his vision, Wyatt turned his head. “Ask me again in a few hours,” he rasped.
Bug looked half panicked, he realized, and he blurted the first thing that came into his head. “How long was I out?”
“Completely out? Just a minute or two.”
“How long was I drifting?” They had a safety margin before the smugglers returned to ensure they were dead, but he needed to know how much time they’d lost.
“Too long!” Bug grimaced, then shrugged. “Exact time? I’m guessing fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”
He bit back the curse. No wonder she’d demanded that he open his eyes. That must have scared the hell out of her. He considered Kendall, let his gaze roam over as much of her as he could see. “How’re you feeling?”
Her agitation seemed to lessen with the prosaic nature of his questions. “I’ve got a headache, but other than that, I’m all right. You were affected more than I
was.”
“Yeah,” he agreed unhappily. It was his job to take care of her, not the other way around, but as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t running anywhere near full speed. Wyatt didn’t even think he could sit up yet. From his position, he examined the area, but nothing seemed familiar. They weren’t in the corridor they’d started from. That hall had been lined with a highly polished gray stone; this one was a sandy color with dark flecks scattered throughout the rock. “Where are we?”
“I suppose you’d call me a smart aleck if I said inside the pyramid?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I can’t be more specific than that, though. Wherever we are, the archeologists don’t know about it. I’ve scrutinized everything on the temple; if they were aware of this secret passageway, I’d know too.”
“It could be classified.”
For a moment, there was only silence as Kendall studied him, then she repeated, “If the archeologists were aware of this secret passageway, I’d know too.”
“Aw, geez, Bug.” Wyatt closed his eyes for an instant. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that—my ears are ringing or something.”
She must have hacked past computer security.
It didn’t matter to him. What counted was that she trusted him and that was humbling. Kendall had difficulty putting her faith in others—probably because of the way she’d grown up—but she believed in him. There was a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the gentle stroke of her fingers—though that certainly heated his blood too.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again. “You didn’t strain yourself pulling me out of the room, did you?”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Good,” he said thickly. She seemed less nervous, and he decided that ignoring the kiss had been the right idea. What amazed him, though, was that Bug continued to pet him. It was driving him nuts. He guessed she was oblivious to her actions, but he wasn’t. Wyatt decided he’d better sit up before she noticed exactly how attuned his body was to her touch. The movement made his head swim, but despite his dizziness, he didn’t miss the color that flooded Kendall’s cheeks or the way she curled her fingers into a fist.
