“You’re disappointed.” Phaedra took a step back. “No, you’re more than disappointed.”
He scowled. “I’m pissed at myself. For last night, for letting things get so out of control between us. For the fact that you had to risk yourself to help me and my friends. I’m pissed at myself for the way you’re looking at me right now. I never should’ve let any of it happen.”
A quiet breath fell from her lips. “Oh. I see. Now I’m beginning to understand. You only wanted me because you thought I was leaving.”
He stood there mutely as she moved farther away from him. He wouldn’t lie to her and say that hadn’t been part of what allowed him to give in to his need for her. But he would have wanted her regardless of whether she left or stayed.
He wanted her even now.
To keep from reaching out to her, he fisted his hands at his sides. He clamped his jaw tight in order to keep from saying things to reassure her. Things that would only make it harder for him to keep his distance now that she would be living under the same roof with him for God only knew how long.
His comm unit buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t have to look to know it was Lucan.
Phaedra continued to stare at him, a firmness settling into her proud chin. That’s how he knew she was really hurt. The tender, open-hearted kindness that was so much a part of her began to shutter as the moments passed and the drone of his incoming summons continued to pulse in the silence between them.
She blinked, and he caught a glimpse of the formidable immortal that was also part of the special woman he’d just wounded.
“You’d better go now, Micah. You obviously have more important things to do.”
She reached for the door and slowly closed it between them.
CHAPTER 17
On a sigh, Jenna closed her eyes, sinking into the tub of warm water and frothy suds Brock had drawn for her in their quarters.
The worst of her lightheadedness had passed, but she couldn’t seem to shake the strange buzzing sensation that had taken up residence in her skull. For the past week, it had been a nearly constant companion, as if a hive of bees had gotten inside her cranium and were checking out the place.
Considering all of the other “unadvertised specials” that came with the tiny piece of alien biotechnology the Ancient had embedded inside the back of her neck, this latest development seemed like more of an annoyance than cause for alarm.
Even still, it was beginning to drive her a little batty.
Brock’s strong palm lighted gently against the side of her face as he took a seat on the edge of the tub while she soaked. “How’s the water?”
“Perfect.” She opened her eyes and found him gazing down at her in concern.
“Do you want me to take the buzzing away?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m okay, I promise.”
Her big, tough mate who was so skilled at combat and lethal force was also gifted with the ability to soothe human pain with his touch.
Although she was evolving into something very different from basicHomo sapienssince the attack she’d suffered a couple of decades ago, at her core she was still human. And no less head-over-heels in love with the handsome Breed male currently stroking his thumb over her cheek.
Brock’s dark brown eyes held her with so much tender affection it made her heart skip a beat. She turned her face into his caress and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm.
“Why don’t you join me in here?”
His gaze flared with amber sparks. “You know I’ll never turn down an invitation to get naked with you. But first you need to close those pretty peepers and relax for a little while. You’ve been putting in a lot of hours in the archive room. Maybe it’s catching up with you.”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s probably it.”
He reached around her to pick up a fluffy terrycloth towel, folding it into a pillow for her. He placed it behind her head, then leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll come back and check on you in fifteen minutes. I’m right outside if you need anything.”
She nodded, practically purring as he traced the pattern of an aliendermaglyphthat swirled and looped around her breast.
Settling back against the large soaking tub, she watched him get up and leave, his long-legged stride carrying him back into the spacious living area of their private residential quarters.
Brock was right, she probably was spending too much time working on her journals and diagrams lately. It was hard to explain to him or anyone else the obsessive kind of determination she had to record everything she saw in her visions. It was as much an outlet for her to try to make sense of the memories she saw through the Ancient’s eyes, as it was a compulsion to give the Order and their future generations an understanding of who their otherworlder fathers had been—even if those truths weren’t always easy for them to hear.
