by Lynn Graeme
Roark frowned and regarded him speculatively. Then a slow smile widened. “Promise it’ll hurt.”
Jamal held out his hand. Roark handed him his phone, and Jamal entered his cell number into it.
Roark grinned as he retrieved his phone and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll text you his details.”
Terris stomped over and shoved first Jamal, then her brother. “I told you not to fight!”
“We’re not fighting, sweetie,” said Jamal.
“Just indulging in male bonding time,” Roark agreed.
She glared at her brother. “When will you stop breathing down my neck? I keep telling you I don’t need you watching over me.”
“Give him a break, Terris,” Jamal said, pulling her into his arms. He would forever be unable to keep himself from reaching for this woman. “Your brother cares about you.”
“Oh, so you’re best buds now? You’re defending him?”
“He doesn’t want anything—anybody—hurting you. I can understand that.”
“You used to respect my independence.”
“And don’t forget courage. And I still respect both. That doesn’t negate my ability to care or want you safe.” He silenced her with a quick, loud smack on the lips. “Besides, if you have the right to try and shield me from your pansy-ass brother—”
“Hey!” Roark objected.
“—then I retain the right to stand between you and anyone trying to hurt you. It works both ways.”
“Okay, you two. Leave the fighting until after I’m gone.” Roark affectionately rumpled Terris’s hair, then stared down at her with a somber expression. “You do know you could lose your job again if your boss finds out you two are involved, don’t you?”
“I’m no longer involved in the trials,” Jamal told him. “It’s why I left.”
For some reason, Terris appeared unhappy with his words.
“You still with the Council, then?” Roark asked.
Jamal looked at him dryly. “They don’t kick their agents out for getting injured on the job.”
“But are you still an agent?” Roark glanced at his stump.
Jamal grimaced. He fully intended to be, but he had his work cut out for him. He’d convince the Council, even if he had to learn some marginal degree of tact.
Roark took his silence as a negative. “Pity. You’re good at what you do.”
Terris looked even more upset. Jamal frowned. He wanted to get her alone so that he could demand what was going on in that complex little mind of hers.
They accompanied Roark back inside the building so that he could go down to visitors’ parking where his car was. He pulled Terris over for a hug. “I’ll see you later, sis. Next time try answering my calls, okay?”
“Like it would’ve stopped you from coming over,” she muttered, squeezing back. The affection between them was undeniable. Jamal almost looked away, feeling his chest growing tight.
“I’ll hold Mom and Dad off for another week and we’ll call it even.”
“Two.”
“No guarantees.” Roark dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before releasing her. He turned to Jamal and extended his hand. Then he remembered Jamal was left-handed—and missing the other hand anyway—and he switched to extending his left in kind. Jamal shook it. “Nice meeting you, Jamal. Hope to see you around.”
“You will.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Roark stared at him for a moment, then grinned and punched him in the shoulder.
Jamal and Terris rode up the elevator in silence. Jamal studied her, trying to figure out what was wrong. As soon as they shut the door behind them, she turned to face him with a serious expression on her face.
“I’m going to see Dr. Overkin tomorrow,” she said.
Jamal digested that. “Okay.”
“I’m going to tell him the truth about our relationship, and why you felt obligated to leave.”
“What?” Jamal stared. He knew Overkin was already aware about the two of them, but he didn’t say so. He was still having trouble following Terris’s train of thought. “I didn’t feel obligated—”
“I’m going to ask him to speak to the managers and beg him to take you back into the program.”
“What?”
“They’ll do it, I know they will. They never wanted you to leave in the first place.”
“And you? What will happen to you?”
Terris shrugged, her nonchalance patently false. “At the very least, I’ll be removed from my position to prevent a conflict of interest.”
“And at most?”
“I’ll be barred access to all the files and projects I’ve worked on since joining Moran Industries. I may also be forbidden contact with colleagues and all past and present clients.”
Jamal stared. “That includes me.”
She nodded.
“Now hold on a second here!” he exploded. “What brought this on? We’ve discussed this over and over—I’m not going back! Why do you keep harping on about it?”
“Because you need the procedure, Jamal! You need both hands so you can go back to being an agent and doing the job you love!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You think I haven’t noticed how miserable you are when you talk about going back to work? About the new roles the Council will give you? You’ll never be happy sitting behind a desk or working for dispatch. I saw you out there with Roark—that’s where you’re meant to be. Out in the open, running, tracking, taking down rogues. You looked so … alive.”
“So, what, you prefer I desert you for some stupid prosthesis that might take years to develop? Destroy your professional career and throw our relationship away? Let you be a fucking martyr?” He stepped back. “No, you’re throwing it away. Throwing us away. You’ve never wanted us as much as I have, have you? You’ve always been willing to walk away from this.”
“That’s not true! I love you, you know that!”
“Do I? Maybe today you finally saw for yourself the kind of man you were binding yourself to for life. Maybe now it’s finally dawned on you that you deserve better. You’re taking your out while you can. Am I too rough for you, Terris? Too black a soul? Too ready to beat the shit out of people you love? Is that why you’re so eager to move on?”
“How dare you,” she choked. “That’s why I’m doing this, you idiot. So you can be the one to move on. I do love and want you with all my heart, Jamal, but even more, I want you happy.”
“I am happy!” he roared. “I’m happy with you!”
Terris shook her head. Her voice dropped to a sad whisper. “No, you’re not.”
“Not right now,” Jamal snapped. He turned around and left, slamming the door behind him.
*
Terris spent a sleepless night worrying and waiting, but Jamal didn’t return. Nor did he answer a single one of her messages. Her bed felt cold and empty without him. She hadn’t realized how thoroughly he’d pervaded her life until now.
Finally, as morning light invaded through her bedroom window, she wiped away her tears and applied tea bags to her swollen eyes. They only marginally helped, so Terris had to accept the fact that she’d be approaching Overkin looking less than her stellar best.
He likely wouldn’t mind if it meant getting Jamal back in the trials. She knew the doctor was only too eager to make it up to Jamal for the experiment gone wrong. Overkin would likely be disappointed to learn the real reason Jamal had left, though. After the way the doctor had stood up for her, Terris felt awful at letting him down.
Not that she regretted falling in love with Jamal. If she had to do it all over again, she would. Perhaps she might’ve even been the one to pursue him. She should’ve left her job right at the start, right after meeting Jamal, so that she had the freedom to love him as much as she wanted.
Now the only question was if Jamal still loved her at all.
He felt betrayed. She knew that. She also knew she couldn’t stand by and let him
sacrifice his future for nothing. If she did, she knew he’d one day look back with regret and wonder if he should’ve chosen differently. At least now the heartache would hurt for a while, but later he’d realize that she’d done the right thing by returning his future to him.
I’m not being a martyr, she insisted to herself. I’m not.
Still, she heard Jamal’s angry, mocking words replaying over and over in her head.
Terris found Dr. Overkin in his research lab. He wasn’t alone. With him was Grayson Moran, CEO of Moran Industries and Terris’s boss.
Overkin brightened on seeing her. “Well hello there, Terris. I was just debriefing Mr. Moran on the latest upgrades I’ve made to our hand models. I think we’ve figured out the incompatible feature in Agent Mousenn’s old prosthesis that prevented it from shifting and merging with his snow leopard.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until Monday,” Grayson commented.
“I’m sorry,” Terris blurted out.
He arched a dark brow. “For taking time off?”
“For everything.” She swallowed. “I … I have something to tell you.”
Dr. Overkin adjusted his glasses. Grayson exchanged glances between the two, then straightened. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”
“No.” Terris lifted a hand to stay him. “Please. This concerns you and Moran Industries as well.”
Grayson glanced at her sharply before settling back, arms folded. His disquieting expression only heightened Terris’s nerves. She clasped her shaking hands together before giving in to the rush of words.
It took a surprisingly short time to confess everything, though not half as surprising as Overkin’s reaction—or lack thereof.
“You bear his scent, my dear. Not that I hadn’t called it long ago. I may be old, but I’m not blind or stupid.” He ticked off something in his clipboard.
Grayson studied her closely. He cut an unreadable glance at Overkin. “You knew?”
The doctor flushed guiltily.
“And you didn’t think I should’ve been informed?”
“Please don’t blame him,” Terris entreated. “It’s my fault for hiding it from the committee. And for being the reason Jamal felt compelled to leave the trials—”
“I’ll speak to you later,” Grayson told Overkin, his tone forbidding. He turned to Terris and motioned toward the door. “A moment, if you please.”
Mute, Terris preceded him out of the lab.
They wound up in the enclosed garden where she’d shared a kiss with a hard, brutal, hurting Council agent not very long ago. Terris glanced at the stone bench, remembering his passion that day. His intensity. His vulnerability.
Jamal’s furious accusation from the previous evening echoed in her head.
You’ve never wanted us as much as I have.
You’ve throwing us away.
Terris scrubbed her face with her hand—a habit she appeared to be picking up from Jamal. She stifled a broken laugh, ignoring the piercing pain in her heart.
Grayson followed the direction of her gaze. “Would you like to sit?”
Terris shook her head. Best to keep moving. The way she was feeling, she didn’t think she was capable of remaining still.
They walked the perimeter of the garden in silence. Guilt swamped Terris as she braced herself for Grayson’s response to her revelation.
She knew she’d disappointed him. He’d given her a chance when she’d left her last job under a cloud of disgrace. He’d given her a place in his organization, and allowed her a key role in the development team of an exciting new project that could change the world of prosthetic aids and implants for shifters.
He was her employer and—after the way he’d stood up for her following that humiliating experience with Rick—her friend. True, he was a little remote, but he’d gone to bat for her when it’d counted, and Terris shuddered to think what her personal life and career might’ve become if it hadn’t been for his help.
And she’d repaid him by letting him down.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, breaking the silence at last. “I know my involvement with Jamal—my not coming clean about it—compromises your company’s integrity and reputation. Especially given my history. Your rivals will be only too willing to bring it up with the ethics board to set back BioSynth’s release.”
Grayson shook his head. “Terris… .”
“I never intended any harm to come to you or Moran Industries because of my actions. Please believe me. You’ve helped me so much… .” She choked out a laugh and waved down at her leg. “You even consented to let me wear BioSynth’s first prototype, despite your misgivings.”
“I had to,” Grayson said dryly. “Otherwise I’d have to put up with your incessant calls and messages. I could hardly get through the seventy-one page report you wrote making your case on why you should be the one.”
“Seventy-eight. Counting citations and an appendix.”
He cracked a smile. A sliver of tension eased from between Terris’s shoulder blades.
Grayson clasped his hands behind his back as he continued walking. “Overkin indicated to me he’s only too eager to accept Jamal Mousenn back into the program.”
Terris bit her lip, but her father hadn’t raised a coward. Jamal hadn’t fallen in love with a coward. She lifted her chin. “I’ll remove myself from BioSynth at once. From Moran Industries, if you deem it best.”
“What I prefer,” Grayson said with exasperation, “is not to lose my most hardworking program coordinator and advocate right when we’re in the home stretch. You’ve already established a close relationship with the participants, who trust you more than they do the other committee members. Plus you run interference when it comes to those third-party organizations so eager to get their claws on BioSynth, whether for good or devious purposes. You ever think about the hell you’ll put me through finding your replacement?”
Cautious tendrils of hope began to snake up Terris’s chest. “You mean you won’t seek my resignation?”
“Your involvement with a client still represents a serious breach of ethics, Terris.”
The tendrils withered away into dust. Terris swallowed and looked away, struggling to remain professional. She shouldn’t feel disappointed. She’d been aware of the risks and what coming clean about her relationship to Jamal would lead to.
She abruptly turned around to face Grayson. “I won’t stop seeing him.”
Grayson stopped and stared down at her, his expression inscrutable.
“I’ll resign and turn over all my files, but I won’t stop seeing Jamal. I don’t care if you think that compromises my integrity, or if my reputation ends up in tatters and I’ll never work in the industry again. I won’t stop seeing him. I’m not throwing us away.”
“Do you think I would’ve hired you in the first place if I’d had even a shred of doubt about your integrity?”
Terris clenched her fists.
“And,” he continued, “do you think that’s my primary concern, about how it reflects on me and my company?”
She frowned uncomprehendingly. “Aren’t you? Concerned, I mean?”
“Your safety is first and foremost on my mind.”
Terris stared at him blankly. Then realization dawned. “He’s not like my ex, Grayson.”
“Are you certain?”
“Completely.”
He shook his head. “Be careful, Terris.”
With her heart? Too late for that. But Terris softened, touched by his concern. “Thank you.”
“Does this Jamal care for you? Treat you well?”
“He’s my mate, just as I am his. That says it all.” Then, because she recalled Roark’s own skeptical disbelief when he’d been told, she added, “They’re not just words.”
“I didn’t think they were,” Grayson murmured. “From what I’ve heard of the cat, he doesn’t make empty claims.”
Terris laughed. “No, he doesn’t know how. He says what he means, whe
ther you like it or not.” She smiled fondly. “And I mean it too, Grayson.”
“I never doubted that for an instant.”
Grayson flicked at a leaf among the garden’s meticulously pruned shrubbery. Terris watched him but didn’t break the silence. She’d said her piece. She’d stated her position. She’d made it clear what—who—she wouldn’t give up. There was nothing else to say. No other case to plead.
Then he cast a sidelong look in her direction. “You know my mate works at Moran Industries as well.”
“I know. I see her during R&D’s monthly consults.” Terris couldn’t tell where he was going with this. “She’s a lovely woman.”
“Of course she is.”
“Not that you’re biased or anything.”
“Never.”
Terris hid a smile.
“There’s no getting around the fact that she’s an employee. There’ll always be an imbalance of power between us.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her. I believe I know who wields the greater power.”
Grayson snorted but didn’t deny it. “Sara’s never been under my direct supervision, though. Your situation is different.”
Terris grew solemn. “I know.”
He shook his head. “A hopeless situation, isn’t it?”
*
Jamal looked up as the front door keypad beeped. His heart rate began to pick up, thumping faster and louder in his chest. Terris entered, appearing tired and downcast. Then spring-blue eyes lifted and stared at him in astonishment.
She dropped her soft-sided case. “Jamal.”
He slowly unfolded his large frame from the couch, unable to keep his gaze off her. “Terris.”
“You’re … you’re here.”
Trepidation filled him. For an instant, Jamal thought she was going to throw him out before he had a chance to apologize. But then Terris glanced down at the keycard in her palm, and he understood her confusion.
“Agents know all the ways to get into a locked apartment,” he explained.
She was so still. So wide-eyed. Jamal started to sweat under her stare. He wanted to wipe his hand on his jeans, but he didn’t dare move and risk spooking her.
