by Patti O'Shea
“This room?” He gestured to the open doorway to his right. “I think it’s the one I told you not to explore.”
Kendall blushed. They’d been walking for maybe half an hour when she’d spotted the first doorway. Her only thought had been to study the chamber, and when she’d looked inside, she’d completely forgotten about the smugglers. It had been spectacular, containing tapestries and statuettes that stole her breath. To her embarrassment, Wyatt had needed to wrap an arm around her waist to prevent her from entering.
He’d been right; they didn’t have time for her to indulge her interest, and she’d dutifully walked past every other chamber they’d passed—even if she did stare longingly into them as she went by. After they escaped and sent up the alarm, she could come back and investigate to her heart’s content.
“Why do you think we made a circle? Because of the mosaic of gems inlaid into the far wall of the room?”
“Yeah. Every room we’ve seen up till now has had a unique pattern of stones inside it,” Wyatt said quietly. “Unless we hit our first repeat, we’re almost back where we started.”
Now she understood his grimness. “You haven’t been marking our path in some top secret Spec Ops way?”
Wyatt started shaking his head before she finished. “I can’t.” He reached out and lightly clasped her shoulders. “We don’t know who all is involved in this mess, and if someone on the teams is dirty, I’d be leading them right to us.”
“Yeah.” She almost leaned into him and Kendall stiffened her muscles to keep from giving in to the urge. For a similar reason, she clenched her hands into fists. She wanted to reach up to push his dark hair off his forehead, to feel it slide between her fingers, and that scared her. Usually, she didn’t pay attention to how gorgeous Wyatt was, but right now it seemed to hit her like a sledgehammer. Even his stubble was sexy and her thinking this was so not good. “Right,” she said, “we don’t know who’s involved.” She took a step away, breaking his hold.
Kendall didn’t miss the hurt that darted through his eyes, and she regretted causing it. The desire to close the distance between them and soothe him was so strong, she took another step back to resist temptation.
It was one kiss, nothing more, yet it seemed to have undermined her common sense. She knew better. Time after time, Kendall had let herself become attached to her mom’s latest lover—had let herself wish they could be a family—only to have her hopes dashed. And when things fell apart, she was the one who consoled her mother. The breakups were the only times her mom drank, and at some point before she passed out, she’d slur out her regret that she’d taken John or Kent or Hank or whomever to her bed. Friendship, her mom had told her, was what lasted.
But that didn’t stop Kendall from wanting Wyatt to kiss her again. She tightened her fists and reminded herself that while she’d been kissing him, he’d been kissing Zolianna.
“I...” She cleared her throat, tried again. “I don’t know where we are. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fret over it.” Wyatt tucked his fingers in his front pockets. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. First, I’m taking a minute or two to think through the path we took and try to figure out where we went wrong. Then we’re going to move and move fast. We lost our safety margin.”
Kendall nodded. It didn’t surprise her that he had some kind of mental map of their route, but the fact that they’d made a circle was proof that she wasn’t the only one confused by the dozens of twists and turns they’d taken.
He stared down the corridor, his thoughts obviously focused inward. As she waited for him, Kendall started to lean against the wall, then stopped and eyed it warily, but the inclusions remained frozen in the stone. She breathed a little easier. This had to prove that her earlier hallucination had been brought on by the lack of oxygen. Nothing else. Relieved, she glanced around, but she couldn’t see into the room and nothing else caught her interest. Except Wyatt.
She knew she should look away. Ogling him, even covertly, wasn’t smart, yet she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from him. Wyatt was a big man, a couple of inches over six feet, and broad through the chest and shoulders. Her eyes slid lower, took in his narrow waist, his powerful thighs. His great ass. She thought about when they worked out together, how distracting he was in shorts, but sometimes he’d whip off his shirt and she’d be so busy trying not to gape that she’d forget what she was supposed to be doing. But a woman would have to be dead not to appreciate all those sexy muscles.
He put his hands on his hips and she shifted her stare. His long fingers hinted at an artistic side, but the calluses didn’t belong to a dilettante. Kendall sighed. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, didn’t want to think about him using his hands on her, or what his palms would feel like caressing her bare skin—she couldn’t risk their friendship. Not for a few weeks, or if she were lucky, months of physical pleasure.
Propping her shoulders against the wall behind her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and struggled to extinguish her arousal. She didn’t have much success until she pictured her life after Wyatt moved on, when she didn’t have him to talk to or laugh with any longer. That hurt enough to dump a bucket of ice water over her desire. Sex was fleeting, she knew that.
Concentrate on something else, she told herself. Her brain skittered around before she thought about the gemstones she’d seen inlaid in the corridor walls. There was always a pattern at an intersection, and if there were a spoke of passageways, the design was even more detailed and elaborate. Wyatt had muttered the first time she’d stopped to record the image with her digicam so after that, she’d taken the pictures without slowing down. Some were blurry despite the camera’s advanced stabilization features, but most had come out pretty well.
She wanted to study the patterns, learn from them. She was sure they were vitally important. Kendall bit her lip as she concentrated. Some of the stones were basic—sapphire, ruby, diamonds—but seeing selenite was a huge surprise.
It was a soft crystal, part of the gypsum family. She knew more about it than most other gems because her mom had collected wands made from the translucent rock. It was supposed to facilitate memory of past lives, which was why her mom surrounded herself with it, but it had other properties as well. She scrunched her eyes tightly as she tried to remember them.
“Bug, you okay?”
Reluctantly, Kendall looked at him. He stood close, concern etched on his face. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”
“If we hadn’t gone in a circle, we could stop for a while, but...” Wyatt’s voice trailed off as he shook his head.
“I can keep up, Wy. Don’t worry, okay?”
Wy? Where had that come from? Something flashed across his face, but it was gone before she could read it. Maybe it was the note of affection laced in the abbreviated name that startled him. God knew it had surprised the hell out of her. That was the kind of tone a lover used, not a friend.
He seemed to loom nearer, and every sense in her body sharpened. She could detect the slight citrus scent that seemed to cling to his skin, see the azure flecks in his navy eyes, and she could feel—Kendall stiffened before she swayed into him.
“We should go,” she said, sidling carefully to the side. She couldn’t risk touching him, not in the odd mood she was in. Not only didn’t he move, but something in Wyatt’s gaze made her uneasy. “Um, did you figure out where we went wrong? ”
“Not for sure,” he said at last, “but I have a few ideas.”
But he continued to look at her oddly. The last thing she wanted was him asking questions. What could she say? That she couldn’t help wanting him even though she knew better? Before she could think of some way to divert him, her stomach growled. Loudly. Kendall quickly moved her hand over it, trying to smother the noise, but she was too late. Wyatt’s lips quirked, and she felt her cheeks heat again. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“Nah, I’m the one who should be apologizing. If I w
as taking care of you right, I’d have fed you earlier. It’ll have to wait, though. We’re too close to where we started.”
“I know.” Kendall rested her hand over the flap of her messenger bag, fiddled with the ornamental buckle. She was the one who took care of things, not the one who was tended to, but Wyatt constantly watched out for her, and it always left her off balance. Uncomfortable. And with a strange warmth in her chest.
Before she realized what he was up to, Wyatt snagged her hand and drew her down the hall. The feel of his rough palm against hers ratcheted up her awareness of him. Damn.
She should pull her hand free, but Kendall didn’t want to. Since she wouldn’t let go, she needed to focus on something to distract herself. The smugglers. Yeah, she could think about them. Wyatt claimed they’d lost their safety margin, and she had no reason to doubt him. It was unnerving to know they’d be hunted, yet Kendall had faith in him.
But Dr. George was the leader of this band of thieves. Despite being warned not to underestimate him, Kendall still didn’t think he was cunning enough to— She stopped short, and Wyatt gave her a tug to get her moving again.
What qualities did it take to lead a smuggling ring? Kendall thought about that, and tried to guess. Cleverness, for one, she decided, including an ability to strategize. Insight into personalities and who would be corruptible. Approach the wrong person to join the band and the gig was up. Logistics was a third quality. The relics had to be hidden, packed and shipped off the planet. Then there was coordinating with an accomplice on Earth, someone who could be trusted not to take the money and disappear. That had to be tempting with J Nine so far away, so loyalty would be a factor. The final attribute that came to mind was the knowledge of what could safely be stolen and yet still bring a good price on the black market.
Kendall gave low marks to George in all categories—okay, almost all categories. He would know what artifacts could be taken. That was his job. But George was a plodder. She didn’t think he was shrewd enough to implement such an intricate scheme. She just couldn’t picture it.
And loyalty? Kendall didn’t know anyone who liked Dr. George; he’d managed to alienate at least half of the other archeologists, and nearly all the military personnel who had to deal with him loathed him. The kicker as far as she was concerned, though, was he was not a good judge of character. George was too self-involved to read people well. He looked down on pretty much the entire military contingent stationed here and barely tolerated some of the civilian experts. The ones he appeared to like were ass-kissers and suck-ups who, by their very natures, were generally untrustworthy.
Wyatt drew to a halt and Kendall put aside her thoughts to look around. She didn’t see anything. “Why are we stopping? ”
Rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, Wyatt said, “I’m not a hundred percent sure which hall we chose our first run through, and I want a couple seconds to think about it. I believe we veered toward the left here, correct?”
Kendall pursed her lips as she studied the five spokes that split off the main corridor. “I think so,” she said slowly, “but was it the far left, or second from the left?”
Shaking his head, Wyatt said, “I was hoping you’d remember.” He smiled at her, and Kendall felt her heart rate pick up. “I’m leaning toward the hallway on the far left.”
She studied it more intently, but there were no distinguishing characteristics. “I trust you.”
His hand tightened around hers for a second, then relaxed. “Bug, your faith means a lot to me. I just hope it isn’t misplaced.” Before she could comment, he continued, “Okay, we’ll head left, and take our chances.”
“Does it matter?” she asked after they resumed walking. “I mean, one way is as good as another as we look for a door.”
“Maybe, but I was having trouble keeping track of where we were. If this isn’t the right hallway, then we’re completely lost with no chance of finding our way back to where we started.”
Kendall thought about that. “Are you saying that if our situation became desperate enough, we’d try to exit the way we came in? Despite the thieves watching for us at the entrance? ”
He was dead serious when he looked at her. “We don’t have much food, but what I’m concerned about is water. We can’t last long without it, especially since we’re moving. What do you think? Is there water in this section of the temple?”
Her first instinct was to say yes, but Kendall swallowed the word. “I don’t know. There could be, I guess, but this part hasn’t been mapped or explored.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said grimly. “I’m aware of that.”
They hadn’t gone far before they reached a right angle in the hall. “I don’t remember this our first time through,” Kendall said quietly as they drew to a halt.
“I don’t either. Fu—uh, dang.”
Her lips twitched. “You don’t have to watch your language. Don’t you know by now that you can be yourself with me? If you want to curse, go ahead. I’m not going to be offended.”
“I know you wouldn’t be offended by swearing, but my mama told me not to cuss, and my dad said sometimes a man had to swear, but just be careful not to do it in front of a lady. I can’t change twenty-five years of indoctrination.”
Did he have to smile like that? So sweet and sexy? And did he have to talk about his mother and father with so much affection, so much respect? It made her melt every time he did either of those things, but both together, well, that was lethal. “Do we go back?” she asked before the silence dragged on too long.
“You know we have to.”
Kendall nodded, but she didn’t want to retrace her steps, even if Wyatt had that route more or less mentally mapped. When he started back the way they came, though, she followed. They reached the hub of halls and turned down the next passageway.
As they walked, an odor reached her. It wasn’t a pleasant one, and it seemed out of place in the temple. Kendall lifted her nose, trying to get a better read on the scent. She thought maybe urine and feces, but there was something else, something that almost smelled metallic, something she couldn’t name. The one thing she was certain of was that it was growing stronger. “What is that stench?” she asked.
“Nothing good.” Wyatt appeared grim, and her throat went tight. He’d recognized the smell, she knew it. “When we get closer,” he added, “you stay put and let me check it out.”
Instead of asking him what they’d find, Kendall scowled. She didn’t like the idea of Wyatt shielding her. On the other hand, while he’d always been protective, he’d never been unreasonable about it. If he didn’t want her to see whatever this was, he probably had a good cause.
The odor was really strong now, and she put a hand over her nose, trying to block some of it. They slowed as they neared another intersection of halls, and she briefly glanced to her right.
Kendall froze midstep. She couldn’t move, couldn’t force herself to look away. From the corner of her eye, she saw Wyatt stop and follow her gaze. She heard him mutter a curse, but her feet were still glued to the floor.
Breathe, she thought, and gasped in a shaky breath. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. She felt her stomach heave, and she gagged. That broke her paralysis enough for her to close her eyes.
It didn’t help. She couldn’t block the image. One of George’s stooges hung suspended, his body impaled by dozens of sharp metal spikes.
Chapter Seven
With a faint smile, Stacey gazed down at Cam. Her godson slept like he did everything else—all out. She never would have believed a two-year-old could be capable of such determination, but that was before this boy had come along. Fortunately for everyone, Ravyn was accustomed to intense males and one more in her life didn’t faze her.
Looking around the darkened room, Stacey found a chair and quietly pulled it closer to the bed before sitting. She rested her hand lightly over her abdomen and gave the baby cocooned there a small caress. What would her child be like? Would he be patient? Quiet? Focused? Sh
e stifled a laugh. Heaven help her if this baby took after Alex in that last regard.
Cam had taught her a lot about kids. If she’d had to guess, Stacey would have thought that babies developed an identity over time, but even as a newborn, Cam had been his own person. Sure, some of his traits must have come from his parents, but there were definitely things that hadn’t. That made her wonder.
The little boy shifted restlessly, and she held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t wake up. She’d volunteered to put Cam to bed, giving Ravyn the night off, but she’d had ulterior motives too. Stacey needed the peace this child gave her. There was nothing like a hug from him to put life in perspective and help her remember what was important.
He was a healthy, happy toddler, growing up secure in the knowledge that his mom and dad loved him. Heck, just plain growing up with both his parents around him every day. Something her own child wouldn’t have. With a sigh, she slumped in the chair. She felt a clutching in her chest as she realized what a loss that would be for her son or daughter.
But Cam was also secure in the knowledge that his mom and dad loved and respected each other. She was doing the right thing for her baby; Stacey trusted that. What would she be teaching her son or daughter if she stayed with Alex? That love only had to go one way? That it was okay to settle for whatever affection was carelessly tossed out? Sometimes she felt like a dog waiting for scraps to fall her direction, and that was no way to live. She straightened. No child of hers was going to be raised to believe this inequity was acceptable in a relationship.
When Cam shifted again, Stacey knew it was time to leave and let him sleep without her hovering. It wasn’t like she needed to avoid Ravyn. Her friend wouldn’t ask any questions, not unless Stacey herself brought up Alex or why she’d left him.
Stacey closed the door to Cam’s bedroom behind her and paused, trying to decide whether to find Ravyn or simply retire for the evening. As she stood there, she heard Ravyn talking to someone.
