by Patti O'Shea
Her determination to resist him was wavering, and she’d begun to wonder if sleeping with him would be as destructive as she feared. What if she went into it with her eyes open—if they spelled out the ground rules up front? Then maybe their friendship could survive. If they knew from the start that it was temporary, how badly could it end? They’d simply wish each other well and resume a platonic relationship. It could work.
Yeah, right. Kendall bit back a sigh. She suspected it wouldn’t be that easy. Not for her.
Besides, maybe Wyatt didn’t want to risk their friendship either—but given the way he’d kissed her, she doubted it. Males thought differently from females. She’d seen a lot of types of men go through her mom’s life—all socioeconomic classes, all races, all religions, all ages—and one thing was always the same: Men didn’t view sex the same way women did. For them, it was more physical, less emotional. Kendall had absolutely no doubt that Wyatt could sleep with her, then treat her like his buddy again. But she wouldn’t be able to keep their relationship separate like that. For her, it would become more.
She didn’t want to think about this either; it sure wasn’t conducive to a relaxed state of mind. What she needed was a good, strong dose of reality. “Marsh,” she said quietly, “tell me some stories about your childhood.”
“What for?”
To remind me how unalike we are, Kendall thought, but she didn’t say that aloud. “To pass the time.”
He looked at her hard, then shrugged. “I’ve told you plenty about how I grew up. Why don’t you tell me about your childhood instead? That’s something I’ve never heard much on.”
Kendall’s immediate reaction was to close down, but before she could give into it, she stopped. Why not tell him? Apparently, the interest was mutual, and although he’d pulled back the other day, she’d figured out that had more to do with their being pursued than the fact that he wasn’t tempted. Heck, when they’d kissed yesterday, she’d felt proof of how much he did want her. If she threw caution to the wind and did something stupid, she wanted him to know her—really know her.
But what did she tell him? “I’m not very interesting.”
Wyatt squeezed her hand. “There’s no one I find more fascinating than you.” Before she could truly register what he’d said, he continued, “What was it like moving from place to place like you did?”
“That’s a broad question.” Kendall sighed, and tried to think of what she wanted to share. “Always being in a new place made it tough to be part of the group. Sure, I made friends wherever I went, but they were superficial.” Except for you, she thought, but swallowed the words. “With the way the army shifts us around, it’s actually been good experience for adulthood.”
He ignored her smile. “You don’t keep in touch with anyone you knew while you were growing up?”
They reached another fork in the halls, and without him having to ask, Kendall pointed to the right. “Other kids I knew? No. I lost touch with them shortly after I stopped going to whatever school we all attended.”
“And adults?”
She’d left herself wide open for that question, but since Kendall had already mentioned her mom’s boyfriends, maybe this was a good time to tell the whole truth. “My mom had lovers—lots of them—and I keep in contact with most of them. Usually it’s just a birthday wish, but I correspond with some regularly.”
Tugging her hand to draw her to a stop, Wyatt asked, “Bug, did one of them hurt you? Is that why you shy away from men?”
It took a couple seconds for the ramifications of his questions to sink in. “No!” she said emphatically, trying to reassure him. “My mom may not have been good at making relationships work, but she always picked honorable men. No one even eyed me funny, I promise.”
Wyatt studied her for a moment longer, then his lips quirked. “I’m glad, darlin’.”
“My mom, well, she could have been a better parent in a lot of ways, but I always knew that if one of her boyfriends touched me, she’d go after him with a meat cleaver.” Kendall smiled at the mental image. “She never had to, though. That’s what made it so tough when she’d break up with whoever we were living with at the time. I liked these men, all of them, and there wasn’t one I wouldn’t have chosen to be my stepfather.”
“So what happened?” Wyatt asked. He pulled her into motion.
“To prevent her from marrying one of them?” she asked for clarification. At his nod, she said, “I’m not completely sure. She’d tell me that the man who she believed to be her soul mate wasn’t after all, and we’d move on searching for her true love.”
“You sound awfully scornful. You don’t believe in soul mates?” Wyatt’s tone was casual, but there was something in his voice that had her hesitating.
“No. There’s no such thing as one soul mate.”
“You must not believe in reincarnation then.”
Again, Kendall paused. Wyatt wasn’t looking at her, but something was definitely going on. “I do believe in reincarnation,” she admitted reluctantly.
“So do I. I told you not to make assumptions about me,” he said, and Kendall realized she must have looked as shocked as she felt. “But from the reading I’ve done on the subject, the consensus is that soul groups reincarnate together, that they even make plans before being born to meet in the upcoming life.”
Kendall nodded, but while she did think there were soul groups, she didn’t agree that there was only a single soul mate. The sparks, the fireworks her mom pursued were figments, there and gone in the blink of an eye. If her mom had understood that there wasn’t a perfect love out there, maybe Kendall would have known her father—or at least had a stepfather.
“Bug?”
“Sorry.” The determined expression he wore made something inside her flutter and Kendall jerked her gaze forward. “Just because we go through life after life with the same set of souls, doesn’t mean there’s only one soul mate. If you’re going by that criteria, we have hundreds, even thousands of kindred spirits.”
There was a long pause. “You don’t recall your past lives.”
Kendall felt her tension ease. This was less personal, and a lot more comfortable to talk about. It wasn’t a question, but she answered as if it were. “No. A few times I thought about having a hypnotist regress me, but decided not to waste the money. If I was supposed to remember, I would.”
He grunted, and Kendall wasn’t sure how to take that. Making no attempt to hide her interest, she turned her head and tried to read his expression, but damn it, he was blank-faced. She hated when he went all enigmatic on her.
“Most people don’t know anything.” She heard the slight defensiveness in her voice, and took a deep breath before asking, “What about you, did you ever have a regression done?”
“No, I never felt the need to have someone else walk me back in time.”
Again, Kendall picked up something in Wyatt’s tone that she didn’t understand. Of course, maybe she was assuming that because he believed in reincarnation he’d be open to being regressed. Some people simply weren’t—she’d met more than a few. It might be safer to talk about something else.
“You know, I heard something when I was hiding from the thieves, but with all the...” Kendall made a helpless gesture with her free hand... “incidents since then, I forgot about it.”
“What did you hear?” Wyatt sounded resigned, and Kendall scrutinized him again, looking for clues about what was going on with him, but he remained unreadable.
“Are you being sent home?” she blurted. When she realized how blunt she’d been, she added, “They said half the Spec Ops teams were being rotated back to Earth.”
“The smugglers must have someone plugged into security.” Wyatt shook his head, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, it’s true, half the teams are going back. Sullivan was supposed to issue the orders the morning after we were trapped in here.”
Kendall fought off the sick feeling that was swirling in her stomach. She had to c
lear her throat before she could ask, “Do you think you’ll be going?”
“I don’t know, darlin’. I hope not.”
Unsure of what to say, she nodded. If he was sent back to Earth, no doubt they’d drift apart as she’d done with her other friends. Even if he did send a note off now and then, they’d become less frequent as time passed until she’d be lucky to get a once a year happy birthday message like she did from most of her uncles.
They reached another spoke of hallways and Wyatt slowed, looking at her expectantly. Kendall studied the kunzite and peridot in the mosaic, but the stones gave no indication of an exit for the pyramid.
With a shrug, she pointed at a corridor slightly to the left and Kendall mulled over what her life would be like without Wyatt.
Sleep with him.
She might lose him anyway, so why not? Her track record with long-distance friendships was abysmal, and at least if she let him take her to bed, she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what if.
If she were going to do this, though, she’d need to make up her mind soon. Kendall knew the army. It wouldn’t matter that they’d been trapped for days. If his orders were to be on the transport, he’d have to board it, even if it left ten minutes after they made it out of the temple.
Wyatt’s thigh brushed against hers as they took a turn, and that one small thing was enough to make the ache between her thighs intensify again. Kendall felt as if she were burning up, like she’d die if she didn’t feel him inside her, but she couldn’t let this push her into something without thinking it through. Yet would it hurt any worse to watch him fly off if they’d been lovers? She’d miss him like hell either way.
And damn it, she couldn’t believe she was waffling like this. Only yesterday, she’d vowed not to be a friend who offered benefits, and today she was trying to talk herself into that very thing. What was wrong with her?
“You’re scowling,” he observed.
“I know. Can we keep talking? It’ll keep my mind off our situation.” And maybe stop her from so much introspection.
“Okay, if we keep our voices low, it shouldn’t be a problem. Tell me why you’ve never met your father.”
Kendall felt her face go hot before the blood seemed to drain away. He’d asked that so abruptly, she hadn’t had time to brace herself. Maybe she should have guessed that he’d remember what she’d said and bring it up when he had the chance. Kendall hadn’t expected it now, but she was going to tell him and let the chips fall where they may.
“My mom,” she said thickly, “never told him about me. I think she’d already moved on before she discovered she was pregnant. At least that’s what she said, and by the time I was old enough to ask, she couldn’t remember his name or even who she was involved with during that period of time.” She cast a sideways glance at him. “I told you my mom had a lot of lovers.”
Wyatt didn’t say a word, and Kendall’s heart started to pound. She shouldn’t have said anything. His family was such a throwback to the traditional twentieth-century ideal that there was no way he could relate to the mess she considered normal.
“How could she not remember?” he finally asked. “How could she not realize you’d want that information, that it would be important to you? Even if she didn’t consider it worth writing down, your mom should have known what it would mean to you.”
Blinking rapidly to beat back the tears welling in her eyes, Kendall clasped his hand between both of hers, trying to tell him without words how much what he’d said meant to her. He was the first one to understand. Everyone else who knew had condemned her mom’s promiscuity or how flighty she was not to recall the man’s name, but Wyatt focused on her—what this meant to her.
“Aw, damn, Bug,” he said, stopping to pull her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you cry.”
Which, of course, made the tears start in earnest. Wyatt practically wrapped himself around her, his hand rubbing her back as he murmured soothing noises near her ear. Despite her attempt to choke back the emotions, Kendall found herself sobbing out twenty-four years worth of pain as she held on to Wyatt.
When she finally calmed down, Kendall kept her face pressed against his chest, in no hurry to face him. How embarrassing. Displays like this weren’t something she did, not in front of other people. Ever. Wyatt must wish he was anywhere but here.
Hell, Kendall wished she were anywhere but here.
He tried to gently move her away from his body, but she clung tighter, not ready to look him in the eye. Wyatt didn’t allow that, however, and to retain her last trace of dignity, Kendall loosened her hold. She was too close to him to bring up her hands and wipe the tear tracks off her cheeks, but she didn’t have to. He did it for her, his thumbs gentle.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“No, don’t apologize. No one else has ever recognized how I felt about the whole thing. It means a lot to me that you saw it.” Her lips quirked. “I’m sorry that I cried all over you.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I didn’t mind.” And then he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers. Their lips lingered for a moment before he broke the kiss. “We need to keep moving.”
Kendall nodded, and wasn’t at all surprised when he took her hand again. The palm tingled briefly, but she wasn’t sure if it was a physical response to Wyatt or something with the temple.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before he said, “If you want, we can do some investigating. Maybe we could figure out who your father is, or at least narrow down the choices.”
“You’d do that for me?”
He looked at her, but didn’t slow. “I’d do anything for you, Kendall. Anything.”
*** *** ***
Wyatt considered it a major victory that Bug only appeared to be a little panicked at his statement. A week ago, she’d have looked like a deer in the headlights and cut out on him so fast, she’d have left a vapor trail in her wake. He fought the smile, afraid it would give away his satisfaction.
Over the past four months, he’d fielded all kinds of unsolicited advice about his pursuit of Kendall. Most of his friends had told him he was moving too slow, but Wyatt knew her better than they did. If he’d done something to spook Bug, odds were slim he’d have a second chance. The patience had paid off.
They’d come a long way. Not only wasn’t she running, she’d actually trusted him enough to cry in front of him. Sweet lord, he’d been scared that he’d said something to cause her hurt, but instead it had been a release. He felt like fricking Superman because she’d allowed him hold her while she let loose. Wyatt struggled with the grin again. If Kendall saw it, he’d lose part of the ground he’d gained and he was damned if he’d give up so much as an inch if there was anything he could do to prevent it.
“Let me think about it,” she said. “He might have a wife and other kids already.” Kendall shrugged. “What if my father doesn’t want to know about me?”
“Then he’s an idiot. But keep this in mind; just because you find out who he is, doesn’t mean you have to contact him.”
From the surprise that flashed over her face, Wyatt guessed she hadn’t considered that. Which told him something—Kendall wanted to meet her father. If she discovered who he was, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from communicating with him. He’d bet that the fear of rejection was what had kept her from doing a search on her own. Well, if they identified the man, he’d just have to make sure that he acted as intermediary. If her father was an idiot, Wyatt would do his best to shield her.
“Wy,” she said, and he felt his heart clench at the endearment—because that’s what it was. “Since we’re talking so seriously, can we discuss something without you getting mad?”
Oh, shit, now what? This didn’t sound good. “I won’t get mad,” he promised. “Say whatever you want.”
Kendall nodded, but she didn’t immediately speak. His pulse rate was astronomical before Bug said, “This pattern on my hand, it means something,
doesn’t it?”
Wyatt considered what to say. He didn’t want to lie to her, but if he told her what he knew, he’d alarm her. “How could it not, darlin’?” An ambiguous enough answer.
“While you were looking for an alternate way to close that room up again,” Kendall said, “I was studying the wall opposite me. It seemed as if the inclusions leapt from the stone and put on a show, before they disappeared inside the chamber. I had to follow them.”
He caught the sideways glance. “Go on.”
The more she explained, the more tense Wyatt became. He didn’t like this.
“But what I have on my palm now, that didn’t show up until right before you saw it.” Kendall bit her lip, then said, “I think it happened when I got my hand wet. It felt like something was searing me, and then those symbols were there.”
“How could the water do that?”
“I don’t know.” Bug shook her head. “Maybe I’m wrong and it wasn’t the water, but the pattern wasn’t there until after I felt the burning, and that didn’t start till my hand got wet.”
“Okay, that makes sense.” He kept his voice neutral, but he felt grim. Kendall had the mark of High Priestess, but she didn’t have the knowledge that went with her powers and she needed it. Not for the first time, Wyatt cursed Zolianna’s secrets. She’d shared almost nothing with Berkant about the temple, and most of what he did know were things he’d figured out from observation and inference.
“This thing on my hand, I’m sure it’s why I could see the energy web yesterday.”
“I agree.”
“But how did you know that I could turn the lines off and back on again? And why did you get mad enough to swear in front of me when you saw my palm?”
Damn, he’d known those questions were coming, but he hadn’t thought up any good answers. “If you saw something etched deeply onto my hand that didn’t belong there, wouldn’t you be upset?”
“Yeah, it would scare me.” Kendall smiled, but there wasn’t any lightness in it. “I’m scared now. This isn’t normal.”
