by Patti O'Shea
“No lumps,” he reported, “but if you become dizzy or nauseated or anything let me know.”
“I will, but it’s not that big a deal.” Kendall knew she sounded subdued, but she was scared over her reactions to him. “How much longer are we going to stay here?”
Handing her the barrette, he sat back, and replied, “I want to take a full fifteen-minute rest.”
Kendall sighed. They’d maybe been here five minutes, so she had a while longer to keep her thoughts controlled. She clipped her hair at her nape again and returned to studying the crystals.
Each chamber they’d passed in this section of the temple had a sameness to it that seemed wrong. Maybe because the rooms in the outer area were all different. Or maybe because the people of the Old City had demonstrated architectural creativity in every facet of the city. Even the houses, while similar in style, had something that set each apart.
But every room in this part of the temple had been the exact same size and shape—a squat rectangle. Every door was placed in the same spot; every room had gemstones inlaid in the same location. Even the walls were the same sandy-colored marble with darker flecks—although, thankfully, they hadn’t danced again. She barely stopped herself from glancing down at her hand. There was definitely a pattern there that hadn’t been present before her weird hallucination. Since she didn’t want to think about what that meant, Kendall returned her thoughts to the room.
Each chamber held a few statuettes, a couple of tapestries and some locked cabinets. Well, at least the ones she’d been allowed near had been secured. Even the furnishings were identical, right down to the color of the upholstery covering the settees. The only differing feature in each room was the pattern of the crystals, which reinforced Kendall’s belief that the gems were hugely important to the aliens.
Getting to her feet, she walked to the far wall. She felt Wyatt’s eyes on her, and knew he was watching out for her. His protectiveness elicited contradictory emotions inside her. Part of Kendall was irritated that he thought her incapable of crossing the floor, while another part of her felt warmed by his concern. People only worried that much about those they cared for, she realized that. But even that raised conflicting feelings. Kendall shook them off.
Hesitantly, she skimmed the fingers of her right hand over the crystals. She felt the surge of energy through her entire body, and it took all her self-command not to yank away. If she did, Wyatt would be at her side in a heartbeat and he’d be asking questions. She didn’t want to try to explain things to him that she didn’t understand herself.
Tucking her hands in the front pockets of her fatigue pants, she leaned forward to study the gems. The overwhelming color here was green—peridot, tourmaline, moldavite, and others she couldn’t identify off the top of her head.
What were the properties associated with these specific crystals? She could only remember bits and pieces about a few stones, notably the ones she’d looked up over and over the past eleven months, but nothing on these.
There were other colors besides the green, of course—a touch of blue, a scattering of pink kunzite and a bit of orange—but some instinct told her those weren’t the key to this pattern.
As she stared, the throbbing began in her hand again, but this time, it seemed to be matched by a pulse in the stones. There was a rhythm that caught her attention, but it was so quick, Kendall was unable to read every shift. After a pause, it repeated and she tried to memorize it. Again and again, it ran through a cycle, until the sequence almost started to make sense.
“Bug, we need to go.”
Kendall groaned, but didn’t argue. She peered over her shoulder, but he didn’t seem to have noticed anything about the gems. No way could she tell him what had happened; it would only concern him.
Pulling her hands out of her pockets, she rubbed her tingly palm over the hip of her pants. The soft abrasion of fabric against skin calmed her. The pulsing gems weren’t a trick of her mind; she had to trust that. Besides, there was plenty of oxygen now and no reason to believe she’d suffered any brain damage earlier.
Before she turned to rejoin Wyatt, Kendall took one last glance at the mosaic, but the stones were quiet. When she reached him, she stopped to stare—and wondered if she knew him as well as she thought. Maybe it was nothing more than the stubble on his chin, but Wyatt appeared dangerous.
He didn’t move; neither did she. Kendall was aware of the way his T-shirt pulled taut across his shoulders, the intensity in his navy eyes, and the fall of dark hair over his forehead. Another pulse went through her, but this one had nothing to do with gemstones and everything to do with desire. Before she could stop herself, she reached up and pushed his hair off his face. Something flared in his gaze, and she hurriedly withdrew. Kendall grabbed her bag, wanting to get out of here before Wyatt started asking questions, or she did something else stupid.
“I can carry that,” he offered. “It’s probably getting heavy for you after all this time.”
“No, I’m okay. Besides, if we run into the other stooges, you need the freedom to fight them. I know who’s got the better chance to win.” With an overly bright smile, Kendall started to pivot, but Wyatt caught her arm.
“I’ve told you not to underestimate them.” She opened her mouth to insist she wasn’t doing that, but he cut her off. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care how big an idiot you think George is, this group has been successful for a while, and every time I hear you call them stooges with that derisive note in your voice, you scare the heck out of me. Maybe George is a fool—you know him better than I do—but if so, he’s surrounded himself with people intelligent enough to get the job done.”
The heat in his voice stopped her for a minute. “I’m sorry,” Kendall said at last. “I do know how serious our situation is, and honestly, I’m not taking any of this lightly. If you’re hearing derision when I talk about them, it’s because they’re thieves and I loathe that they’re looting the Old City.”
Wyatt’s jaw went tight, and Kendall realized he still didn’t quite believe her. She shrugged and changed the subject. “Do you think they came back and got the body of the thief or did they leave him there?”
Kendall had never seen anything like that impaled body, and she never wanted to see anything like it again. Although she’d been doing her best to repress her memories, they continually flooded back.
“I think they left him,” he said after a brief pause. Some of the tension had eased out of Wyatt, and he sounded resigned.
“But he was one of them.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward. Kendall found herself mesmerized. Wyatt had the sexiest eyes; why hadn’t she noticed that before?
“You’re too tenderhearted, and that’s a good thing,” he added, as if he expected her to be insulted by the remark. Then, before she was ready, he released her and stepped away. Nodding toward the doorway, he said, “Let’s go.”
As they headed cautiously down the passageway, Kendall did some thinking. Was she taking this lightly because Dr. George was running the show?
Wyatt slowed as they hit a fork in the hallway—the temple was riddled with them—and this one branched out in four different directions. “Well, darlin’,” he asked with a subtle drawl, “which do you favor?”
“Since we don’t know where we are and have no idea how to get out of here, one corridor is as good another.”
He settled his hand on her nape and lightly squeezed. “You pick. Close your eyes and tell me which way feels right to you.”
“What?” While she’d mentioned certain New Age ideas, she’d never let Wyatt know the depth of her belief. His suggestion led her to think, though, that she’d revealed more than she realized. “You heard me.” He changed position until her back was against his chest and his hands rested on her hips. “Close your eyes,” he said soothingly. “Come on, Kendall.”
She decided to just do it. Obviously, it was too late to hide her unconventional life philosophy. A
fter shutting her eyes she took a few deep breaths, but it didn’t calm her, not with Wyatt’s muscular chest and arms surrounding her.
“Think of water,” he murmured softly against her left ear. The gentle puff of warm air as he spoke sent a shiver through her, but it was his voice that made the muscles of her inner thighs clench. “Which way would you go to find water?”
Kendall was too steeped in Wyatt to even have a clue which direction to choose. But she didn’t want him to know that. The left side just seemed better, so she raised her arm to point, shifting it until she felt comfortable.
Now that she’d picked, she should open her eyes, and step away from him—but she didn’t want to. Involuntarily, Kendall leaned into him and deepened their embrace. He shifted, fitting her more snugly against him. His groin pressed into her bottom, and she felt Wyatt start to get hard. And still Kendall didn’t break free.
She knew this was stupid, that she was jeopardizing their friendship. She didn’t care. Not right now. Later, she’d torment herself about the repercussions.
Wyatt made a noise that sounded like a groan, and his hold tightened on her hips. For an endless moment, the possibilities hovered between them. Then he broke the mood. “No.”
He put her away from him, and almost dazed, Kendall opened her eyes. Then the rejection registered. Hurriedly, she took another step away from him—and staggered to catch her balance. Her legs weren’t entirely steady. The embarrassment was intense and she knew her face was red because it felt scalding hot.
Holding out his hand, Wyatt took a step toward her. “Bug—”
“No!” She backed up. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”
“You’re thinking I—” He cut himself off. “Damn it! Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the second hall on their left. It was only then that she heard a light scraping sound. There was no indication that a human had made the noise, and no telling how distant the point of origin was, but they couldn’t risk waiting around to see if it was the thieves.
Even as adrenaline spiked, Kendall considered it a reprieve. It was temporary, though. Wyatt would want to clear the air. He’d be nice about it, but he’d tell her that he didn’t think of her like that. And she’d agree their friendship was important—which was true—and pretend what had happened was no big deal—which wasn’t true. He released her and she breathed a sigh of relief. This whole thing had gotten so messed up. Why did he have to mistake her for Zolianna? If Wyatt hadn’t kissed her, Kendall wouldn’t be confused, wouldn’t be wanting more of him.
They slowed when they reached a corner, and he checked it out before they took the turn. The memory of his erection pressing against her butt made Kendall’s thoughts derail. If he didn’t want her, why had he gotten hard?
Almost as soon as she asked the question, she had the answer. He was male, and men found her pretty—in a girl-next-door kind of way. Plus, she didn’t think he’d had sex in the four months he’d been on J Nine. This post was so small that she’d have heard something if he had.
Kendall felt like screaming. Why was she thinking like this? She didn’t want him to want her. Hell, she didn’t want to want him. Nothing but hurt and heartache waited at the end of this path; she knew that better than anyone.
Time after time as she’d grown up, her mom would meet a man and announce that this was her soul mate, the person with whom she was meant to spend her life. Time after time, Kendall had let herself believe it, let herself dream of having a dad and a permanent home. And time after time, they’d packed up and moved on in mere months. Her mom was always in tears, swearing off men and wondering where her true soul mate was. And Kendall would be fighting her own need to cry. No matter how hard she’d tried to remain distant, she’d always ended up liking her uncles. Of course, her mom’s celibacy never lasted—there was always another man who was meant for her—and the cycle would begin again.
Well, she wasn’t going to be foolish like her mother. She wasn’t going to risk her best friend for a quick roll in the sack—she wouldn’t risk him even for a couple months’ worth of pleasure. Wyatt meant too much to her to lose him. So she’d apologize for her lapse, blame it on the circumstances affecting her judgment and they’d move past it. She hoped.
Now that she had a plan, Kendall felt better. The most important thing, however, was that she maintain her control. She couldn’t have another moment of weakness, not without ruining any chance she had of things returning to normal between them.
And it went beyond Wyatt. Because they spent so much time together, she’d become chummy with his team, and to a lesser degree, the rest of the guys in Spec Ops. If Wyatt pulled back, Kendall wouldn’t just lose one friend, she’d lose dozens.
*** *** ***
Wyatt was getting tense. Kendall was too damn quiet. He knew she was dwelling on what had happened between them. Shit, he shouldn’t have pulled back, but he’d had no other choice given the situation. And he’d been right to play it safe. He couldn’t say that noise he’d heard had been made by the smugglers, but since the pyramid was usually silent as a tomb—his lips quirked—he had to assume it was produced by a human.
If he’d been busy kissing Kendall, he never would have heard it. Hell, once he got his mouth on her, he wouldn’t hear a fricking brass band come marching down the stone halls. So he’d pulled away before giving in to his need, and the look he’d seen on her face had him kicking himself six ways to Sunday. She’d taken his withdrawal all wrong.
He’d try to explain, of course, but Wyatt knew Kendall would pretend the moment had never happened, and she’d avoid any conversation about it. And like always, he’d back off to keep her from putting even more distance between them.
He was damn sick of that. Wasn’t four months enough time to be patient? Wyatt grimaced. If he could keep from rushing her just a little while longer, he was going to get her, he was certain of that. Already the wall she’d placed between them was starting to disintegrate. She’d linked her fingers with his, and today she’d reached for him to brush back his hair. Then there was this corridor incident. Not only had Kendall leaned more firmly into him, she’d wiggled her butt against his hard-on. Oh, sure, it had been a minute motion, but he’d felt it in every cell of his body. Thank God she was unaware of what she’d done.
Forcing the memory out of his mind wasn’t easy, but Wyatt did it anyway. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do right now and he needed to remain alert. They were in a shitload of trouble, and thinking with his cock wasn’t going to get them out of it. He’d failed Kendall the last time around, but in this life, things were going to be different.
Right now, his top priority had to be replenishing their water supply, not getting Bug into bed. Although it sure felt like he’d been waiting forever for her. Hell, according to his mother, his first word had been Zo. Someday he’d tell Bug that.
There was one thing he didn’t ever intend to share with Kendall, and that was the fact that the women he’d been drawn to in the past had all reminded him of Zolianna in some way. Usually it was appearance, but with some it had been personality. Bug had been the first who hadn’t fit the norm for him.
Wyatt smirked, amused at himself. He’d only been on the planet for two days, and because they’d still been wound tight as hell from three solid months in the field, he and his men had been hanging together, keeping to themselves. But that evening, a meeting with Sullivan had run late, and he’d ended up at the mess hall alone—behind Kendall. He’d found himself attracted to what he could see of her, which was basically her backside, and from time to time, her profile. She wasn’t his usual type—too tall, too slender, hair too light—but they were stuck in a line that didn’t seem to be moving, so he’d started a conversation.
The more they’d talked, the more interested he’d become. Then Kendall had turned to hand him a tray. At first, it had been her smile that hooked his attention, but slowly, Wyatt had raised his eyes to hers. And he’d known.
He’d tried to
convince himself he was imagining things, that the odds of finding her again on a planet with so few people were slim, but he’d finagled an invitation to eat dinner with her anyway. And as the meal progressed, he’d become certain of her identity.
They’d talked until they’d been the last ones in the mess hall and the kitchen staff had kicked them out. Then he’d walked her home and sat on her porch talking with her some more.
A few subtle probes that first night had told him that not only didn’t she recognize him, but that she didn’t remember their past life. That had been unexpected, and disappointing. He’d always figured it would be like a love-at-first-sight thing, but that wasn’t how it went. Not for her, and not for him either. It had been more like intrigued at first sight. His lips curved. Bug was so different from Zolianna—so much more than he’d expected.
And he was doing it again. He had to keep his mind on the situation—he couldn’t let himself think about kissing Kendall or about the feel of her body against his. Yeah, the marble hallways were monotonous, but shit, he’d kept focus in tedious places in the past, and with Bug at risk, he should be more alert, not less. She was the most important person in his world. Hell, she was his world.
Despite his intentions, Wyatt found himself zoning out again, thinking about how much fun they’d had at the Peace Day picnic a few months ago. As soon as he realized that he was drifting once more, he snapped himself out of it, but it worried him. “Kendall.” He saw her wince, but ignored it. “I’m having trouble paying attention. I need you to talk to me, and if I don’t seem alert, nudge me or something, okay?”
Her reluctance immediately changed to concern. “This isn’t like you. Is everything all right?”
