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It must have been her imagination. Taryn sighed and stared out the porthole. That is the only thing that makes sense. And yet it seemed so tangible. Right there before her eyes, close enough to touch. She shook her head. It didn’t make sense, she hadn’t seen the man again.
She saw a man named Baby Boy and had been assured with her own eyes, John, Martha, and Geoff were also recovering. She had no clue where they were headed, all she got was home. In truth, nothing else mattered.
Her shoulder ached. Hell, she ached. She snorted. Another scar. With absent strokes she rubbed the cicatrix, which ran the length of her right forearm, the only thing she got from the accident that took her parents from her. A car accident. She stared across the endless expanse of water. The desire to sit out in the sun was a powerful one, but the man who introduced himself as Baby Boy insisted she remain inside for her own safety.
So, she’d been in this room out of sight. Alone. Again. However, this time she’d enjoyed a shower and had access to all the food she could desire. Therein lay the issue. She had zero appetite. None. Which she thought odd, she should be starving.
She twisted the hem of the large olive green shirt she’d been given in her fingers wishing she had a craving to eat. Baby Boy had provided her with a pair of scrub bottoms, so now she wore those. The door opened and her gasp caught in her throat as he stepped through and closed the door behind him. Her heart began thundering in her chest. He hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all.
The man was not small by any means. Over six feet tall he had black hair, which looked windblown, thick black lashes that semi concealed quicksilver eyes. Sharp features were covered by tanned skin and his jaw by stubble. He wore dark pants with two thigh holsters, complete with sidearms. A black shirt amplified the power of his upper body. His biceps strained against the sleeve cuffs.
Damn the man was fine!
In one hand, he held a tray and with each step he took the room shrank a bit more. He had no gentle expression on his angled face. In fact, it was wiped clean of any and all emotion. Cold. Unfeeling. Those were only two of the words, which surfaced in her mind. And yet...she couldn’t help but wonder. She did after all, remember him calming her, and how gentle he’d been then.
Watching his every move she couldn’t help but be impressed by the jungle cat like flow to his form. Dangerous. Predatory. Her mouth grew dry as unbidden the thought of being his scampered through her mind.
“They said you haven’t been eating.” His voice fell monotone and unaffected, yet deep and smooth.
Why did he care? Better question, why did she want to smile over the concern his presence here displayed?
He placed the food next to her drawn up legs. If he noticed her stiffen, he didn’t address it. No, he settled his large body down on the other end of the narrow bed, back to the wall and stared at her. Unable to hold his gaze she averted her eyes and stared back out the circle of glass.
“I am not leaving until the tray is cleaned, Taryn, so you may as well eat.” His words were low and composed.
The way he spoke her name made her belly tighten with sexual awareness. Get a grip, T. The mental reprimand did very little in the way of returning common sense.
Rotating her head, she met his stare. Those eyes of his were hooded, almost like a hawk, either way they were the eyes of a predator.
“Thank you,” she said dropping her eyes to the tray beside her. Bread, meat, cheese, and fruit, sat on it.
He didn’t seem moved by her gratitude. Not even slightly. Those argent eyes blinked and continued to watch her.
“Eat.”
Clearly a man used to issuing orders and having them followed. Her stomach didn’t seem to keen on the idea but she realized it would be better to at least try. That way if she puked on him he would have seen her attempt to eat.
“Don’t blame me when I hurl on you.”
His stare subsisted on her seemingly unaware of her not-so-subtle threat. She reached for a piece of bread and pressed back into the corner. Tearing off little chunks, she ate it. Sourdough. His gaze remained on her face before it dropped pointedly to the tray and back up again.
A slice of apple in hand she bit it and returned the unblinking observation. Again struck by his handsomeness as well as that tingle of recognition.
“Who are you?” she queried needing something to break the ice.
He never blinked. “Names aren’t important.”
Yet he knew hers. She ate slowly, studying him. If her perusal bothered or offended him, he never let on. It has to be him. Or else I’m really going crazy.
Her eyes trailed over him, committing every stat on his impressive physique. The thoughts he evoked in her may not make sense given what she’d just gone through, but there it was. He had this sexual beacon, which drew her.
“What happened?” His question startled her.
“Not important.”
His eyes glinted dangerously. Silent, she reached for a piece of cheddar and chewed it slowly. Swallowing she took a deep breath and grabbed the bull by the horns. It’s now or never.
“How long are you going to pretend we don’t know one another?”
He wasn’t quick enough to hide his reaction and she knew she hadn’t been seeing things last night when she came up close and personal with the mark that identified him to her.
She sat up and crossed her legs. “Well, Galen?”
Why he didn’t want to acknowledge her she didn’t know. Nor did she understand why it hurt.
“You’ve made a mistake,” he said his tone dispassionate.
“Really? I don’t think so because I don’t know many Taryn’s.” She shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right and I am. Either way, you can prove it.”
He lifted a jet-black brow, no expression on his face. This man was so unlike the Galen she remembered in physical appearance. The withdrawn attitude struck her as familiar though. However, back then she had been allowed in, now he treated her with the same cold indifference he’d used on others.
Finding some courage, she sighed then spoke. “Show me the back of your neck.”
He crossed his arms in a bored manner while his gaze became increasingly menacing. “Why?”
It was him. The realization made her almost smile. Moving with caution of her injuries, she got on her knees and shuffled towards him. Even with one eye still extremely swollen, she could at least see through it. His gaze riveted upon her face and she fought the urge to hide her bruises from him.
“Because the Galen I knew had a Tac on the back of his neck.” His eyes began to burn with a savage inner fire. She recognized it for what it was, a warning. One she disregarded. “It was branded there by his bitch of a mother who believed he was an evil child.”
She halted when her knees were beside his muscular thigh. Lethality shimmered in the depths of his unblinking eyes and they narrowed slightly.
“Sounds painful,” he remarked causally, as if his gaze hadn’t begun burning a hole through her.
He didn’t fool her for he radiated tension. “We were friends once, Bane,” she said using the nickname he’d given himself. “I know you remember me. However, if you are going to insist on pretending we’ve never met, then prove me wrong. Show me your neck.”
Something changed. Something hot ignited in his eyes as he stared at her. Her reaction went all the way to the molecular level. She understood attraction and knew it existed for the man in front of her. Resting on her heels, she cocked her head to the side.
“Come on,” she taunted.
“You seem to be under the impression I care.”
“You do,” she said with assuredness. “But you don’t have to show me. We both know who you are. How have you been? You’re looking good.”
Understatement of the year but hey, who could have predicted undersized, skinny Galen Maxwell would have evolved into this mouthwatering specimen. Skin and bones had transformed into hard muscle and danger.
She saw the resignation in his eyes before he said another word. He licked his firm bow-shaped lips before they twisted into a cynical grin.
“You don’t know me anymore, Tari,” he said with cryospheric authority. “I’m a far cry from that spineless wimp I used to be.” The self-abhorrence at his past weakness broadsided her. “I’m a dangerous man.”
Tari, his nickname for her. He warned her again. Much like he’d tried to do in school. And just like then, she trusted her gut and paid no heed to the scantily veiled threat. She didn’t move back just stared into eyes, which had darkened, into the hue and hardness of gunmetal.
“I know. I’m not scared of you, Galen ‘Bane’ Maxwell. You would never hurt me.”
Her response took him by surprise for he inhaled sharply, he shoved to his feet, and strode to the door. Moments before he vanished behind it, he turned and came close, stopping at the edge of the bed.
On her heels as she was, he still towered over her. She understood it to be an attempt at intimidation but it didn’t work on her. With a light lick of her lips—an action which his mercurial gaze followed—she gravitated towards him with a deliberately casual movement.
“What happens now, Galen Maxwell? Do you put your hands on me and try to convince me I’m in danger from you?”
“Don’t try to goad me, Tari.”
“Why not? According to you, we don’t know one another, so how would I know how to goad you one way or another? I mean, you are after all a dangerous man.”
The words slid past her lips even though she acknowledged this Galen was a much different man that she’d known as a boy. A hot ass man. As she waited there, she longed to experience the touch of his firm lips upon hers. Her belly tightened at the thought.
His eyes fell to her lips as if reading her mind and she dug her fingers into her palms to keep from actually reaching out and touching the stubbled jaw line. With a muttered curse, he raked a tanned hand through his dark hair, and then stormed out. His parting words before the door slammed behind him were, “Finish the goddamn tray!”
She settled back upon the thin mattress and reached for the tray only to push it further away, something other than food prevalent on her mind.
Galen.
αβ
Unaware of Tari’s thoughts, Galen swore a continuous litany as his long strides ate up the narrow passageway. Damn her. Damn her! She’d been through an agonizing situation and his mind lingered on sex. How could it not be? She’d sat on the bed, all dirt and grime washed off. The cuts and bruises were apparent and refreshed his anger at what she’d been through but they in no way wrested from her serene beauty. The years had been wonderful to her.
Her black hair had a slight wave to it and fell about her shoulders in silken folds. Mocha skin called to his fingers to touch. And to top it all off she wore one of his shirts. The olive material hung off her frame, reminding him how small her stature was in actuality to him. He knew Baby Boy had given her a pair of scrubs to wear and they also engulfed her smaller form.
She’d sat there, unafraid, taunting him, daring him to be half as dangerous as he’d claimed. Tari had it right, he could never, would never hurt her. Didn’t stop him from wanting to cover her plush lips with his own and...
“Damn it to fucking hell!”
“What’s up, Galen?”
He jerked his head to the left and found Ryder leaning against the wall, peeling an apple, ankles hooked. They were dressed identically all the way down to dual thigh holsters.
“Nothing,” he growled.
Ryder lifted a brow, disbelief etched across his features. Of all the men who made up this ragtag group of misfits, he got along best with the man he currently faced.
“Good. I was almost concerned that little darlin’ in there had gotten under your skin.”
His lip lifted in silent warning. Ryder snorted and spun the knife through nimble fingers before cutting another bite off.
“What gives, man? Since the day we met, I’ve never seen you rattled. Especially with a woman.”
Galen sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black BDU’s. “I know her.” Then he walked out onto the open deck and sat down. Ryder followed him to the clean surface.
“Ex?”
A snort escaped. “No. We were in middle school together. Tari was the lone person in my childhood who treated me like a person. That actually gave a damn. Not that I didn’t try to keep her at a distance. The two of us were outcasts at school. Me because I was undersized, an easy target, and poorer than dirt. Tari, because she was two grades ahead. She helped me.” He dropped his head back to rest against the side despising this trip down memory lane.
“So why the anger? She’s fine now, we got to her in time.” Ryder tossed the core over the side. “Did you two have a fight in school?”
“No. We had two years of friendship. Then she left.” Galen stared down at his hands. “Her parents were killed in a car crash and whichever relative took her in moved her. I saw her last when I was fourteen. She was twelve.”
Ryder pinned him with eyes the color of the sea. “So what’s with the cussin’?” He ground his jaw, unwilling to answer, instead he stared up at the azure sky. “Holy fuck!” Ryder said with more than a gleam of understanding. “You’re attracted to her.”
“Shut it.” He didn’t want to acknowledge that much less hear someone verbalize it.
Ryder laughed and got nimbly to his feet. “You do know you’re allowed some emotion in your life, right? Just because we’re mercs doesn’t mean we only deal with detached visits to whores. If she’s making you feel something, then good. She ain’t twelve anymore man.” Without another look, the man strode away, leaving him alone.
Tari made him feel all right. Strong, powerful things a man like him had no business feeling. I can see she’s no longer twelve. She had blossomed into a beauty.
His mood foul, he made his way to the galley. The other three rescued persons were there, gathered around a small table. It still annoyed him they seemed so renitent to check on Tari.
The woman, Martha, met his gaze only briefly to blush and put it on something else. Hell, the way she stared at the fork in her hand it should have been conducting a damn symphony.
He stopped beside the table. “A word, ma’am.” He said it in a way where it fell as a command not a request.
She hesitated before standing and smoothing her hands down the legs of her borrowed pants. “Of course.”
He didn’t speak until they’d left the galley and had entered the makeshift infirmary. “Leave,” he barked.
Baby Boy stood, gave him a look reminding him he was doing this because he wanted to, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be pushed out of his own realm. His eyes followed until the heavy hatch closed, breaking off the view. Then he pivoted to stare at the slender woman and sized her up.
“Why do none of you ask about Taryn?”
Her face clouded with more than a hint of uneasiness. “She...we...well she never really got along with our group.”
He frowned and she flinched. “She was with your group, wasn’t she?”
“Yes but she came on board at the last moment. She always kept to herself.”
Galen fought a disappointed sigh at the pathetic excuse. He knew full well what that meant. There and yet an outsider.
“So she is alone because after trying to save your friend and being injured, she’s still considered an outsider? She’s dealing with her recovery alone?” He shook his head in disgust. “Missionaries who alienate one who worked beside them. People like you are the reason people like me will always be in business.” Galen left the room before his anger got the better of him.
Not until the handle beneath his hand had turned did he realize where his feet had carried him. Back to Tari. So much for being professional and keeping his distance.
Her eyes wide and a bit fearful stared at him from where she sat. In the corner of the bed.
“Bane,” she said in a broken whisper.
“Tari.”
He stepped in the room and swung the hatch behind him. The click amplified the very fact it was just the two of them. He noticed the tray hadn’t been touched since he left, he knew exactly what had been there. And it still did.
The silence between them hung charged with electrical currents. He ignored the urging his body encouraged when it came to Tari. All he could imagine was pressing her back upon the single mattress, tugging those light blue scrub bottoms down past her ankles and trailing his lips along her skin. Kissing each inch of skin and learning how she tasted. Then the shirt...
“Why are you here?”
He blinked over the subdued tone. He’d not been gone very long but damn if he didn’t face an entirely new person. The teasing enchantress who’d challenged him had been stripped away, leaving behind an emotionless shell. Something had changed between them. He didn’t like it. If he chose to erect a wall that was one thing, but he didn’t like it when she did.
“What happened?” he demanded ignoring her question.
She drew the blanket from around her waist high up until her body from the neck down became shrouded by gray wool. No words passed her lips, in fact, all she did was readjust so her gaze once again focused out the porthole. There lingered some desperation in her expression, faint, but he saw it.
He fought back a snarl. “Tari, what happened?”
Her body shivered and it hit him, all the memories had surfaced and she had no more recourse to keep them at bay. She’d always tried to be so strong and brave.
Approaching the bed, he moved the tray to floor and sat beside her. It hardly seemed possible for her to pull away, with her being in a corner and all, but she shrank from him. Unpleasantness swirled in his stomach at that knowledge.
Aware her injured shoulder was close to him, he avoided it and trailed his fingers through her hair, tucking a bit behind one ear. He knew if not for the wall supporting her head she would have moved away from him again.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
“You know it’s okay to let it out.”
“Like I’m going to take advice from a man I don’t know and one who apparently has no emotions of his own.”
He narrowed his eyes at that. “Thought you said you did know me.”
“Obviously a mistake. Please leave.” Her voice quavered with thick emotion.
There it was. She had given him a way to reinstitute the distance he told himself he needed to keep with her in order to forget his past. So why was he still sitting there with one hand brushing through her soft hair?
“No.”
With that single word, Galen knew his life had just changed forever. It filled him with uncertainty but he ignored it. Nothing mattered but Tari and helping her navigate through these uncharted waters of emotional turmoil, she faced.
A whimper escaped her and hit him more effectively than an iron fist to the solar plexus. Deciding to hell with the ramifications, he lifted her with ease and caution, only to place himself behind her. She stiffened but he refused to release her, holding her on his lap and ensuring she had a direct view out the window.
He looped his arms loosely around her waist, on the outside of the blanket, despite wanting his hands under it. Where her curves could be explored at his leisure and...
His body already hard jolted with the knowledge of how much he wanted her. Closing his eyes, Galen struggled to calm his raging libido. Not an easy feat when the woman in his arms was a mixture of strength and softness. Curves and courage. Temptation beyond anything he’d known.
“Let it out, Tari. Nothing will hurt you now.” I won’t let it.
“Leave me.”
The action seemed natural when he nuzzled the area behind her ear. “No. I’m not going anywhere.” He almost trailed his tongue along the shell of her ear, catching himself just in time. “I’m sorry I tried to pretend I didn’t know you, Tari. I’ve been alone for so long, it’s instinctive for me.”
“You’re not the only one who’s been alone, Galen.” She shifted against his chest only to finally settle, her head snug beneath his chin.
The desolation in her words could have brought him to his knees had he been standing. He searched, almost desperately, for words to comfort her.
“You’re not alone.” Right now, were the unarticulated words.
She didn’t respond. And he didn’t force the issue. Eventually the tears came. Like she had done everything else when they were kids, Tari cried in silence. No wailing, just suffered in quiet. Through it all, he held her. He couldn’t explain when exactly he knew she’d fallen asleep, only that she had. And still, he held her, not wanting to risk waking her by jostling her.
If that’s what you need to believe, his brain taunted. Ignoring that part of his body, he closed his eyes. The sound of the door opening had him awake and ready for anything before the person became visible.
Baby Boy stood there, black brows lifted in surprise. Galen slanted his eyes down to where Tari stayed blissfully asleep in his arms. Dried tear tracks on her face there also there existed the look of a woman who’d finally allowed herself to sleep.
His own contented feeling faded as he sighted Razor again. The man wore black pants and a tank top. Galen growled low at the exposed muscles of his comrade.
“Don’t you knock?” he bit off.
Baby Boy smirked. “Amigo, what the two of you do is your biz. I am here because she was to go see me an hour ago. I came to check on her because she never showed.”
He relaxed. “I’ll bring her when she wakes up.”
“Very good. Did she mention how she acquired those old scars on her back? Ryder said you knew her.”
Galen shook his head. “What scars?” He cradled a hand along the side of Tari’s head.
“I...said too much.” Baby Boy stepped back through the opening. “When she wakes, Galen.”
All his attention back upon the woman lying upon him. Scars? He wanted to wake her and ask. The light had softened and alerted him it was late afternoon. They’d been asleep for a while. What’s the harm in sleeping a bit more? He wasn’t about to miss the continued opportunity to hold her in his arms.
The next time he woke, he realized two things. One, he was aroused. And two, Tari had draped herself over him. He’d slid down at some point and the narrowness of the bed brought them even closer together. The blanket now covered them both.
Her hand lay along his stiff erection. It took all he had not to buck his hips, granting him the chance of rubbing along her palm. His chest supported her and the feel of her breasts against him had this way of making him long to touch and explore all she had to offer.
Each breath, each movement, sent him further spiraling down the descent to his own personal hell. Sweat beaded on his brow and he tried to think of anything to calm down. Nothing worked. For once in his life, things he’d seen, done, and experienced had no cooling power over him. All the power resided in the woman whose soft snores and lush body drove him to distraction. Her hair cascaded around her face, keeping it in partial obscurity.
Unable to help himself, Galen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He rationalized he needed to wake her so no further damage would be added to her wounds. Not that he bought the excuse.
“Tari,” he said softly, realizing he relished how her succulent form felt against his.
She stirred slowly, the hand over his shaft rubbed him through the heavy material of his pants. He bit his lip in order to restrain the moan of euphoria from escaping.
Sweat trailed along his spine. “Wake up, Tari,” he said in a much firmer tone. He couldn’t take much more of this.
“Do you always wear guns to bed?” Her voice thrummed with exhaustion.
Her question made him smile. “Only when I fear for my virtue,” he teased, unwilling to ruminate over the multiple times he had gone to bed with a gun. Many more than he had any woman, to be sure.
“I’m sure you are more than able to ensure your virtue’s safety.”
One minute she lay along him, her softness to his hard, then in the next, she was gone. No words were forthcoming about their intimate sprawl on the narrow bed. In fact, her face seemed remarkably composed. A blank slate and it rubbed him the wrong way.
“Baby Boy came by, said you need to stop by and see him.”
Composure or not, Tari couldn’t hide the flash of fear which sparked in the inner space of her eyes, changing them to the hue of dark chocolate. As fast as it appeared it dematerialized, leaving him confused.
She nodded then picked up the tray. He beat her to the door, one hand against the cool material.
“Talk to me, Tari.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve kept Baby Boy waiting long enough.” She didn’t look at him, just waited. Holding the tray took her one good hand and they both knew even without her injury he could still keep them sequestered in here.
Raking hungry eyes over her, he opened the door. Before she could step through, he dipped his head and murmured, “I really liked waking up with you sprawled all over me, Tari.”
A delicate shiver overtook her. She didn’t respond, merely left and walked down the corridor, leaving him to watch her with a rod of steel in his pants. She moved slow, her body buried beneath borrowed attire and he wondered what had brought them back together after so long.
And what am I going to do about it?
With a sigh, he took himself in the opposite direction and found Ryder, studiously cleaning one of his guns on the bridge. A quick glance over the panels of consoles told him all he needed to know about their current position.
“Your woman’s all alone, why?” Ryder asked, as always, succinct and to the point.
“What do you mean?” He never debated Ryder calling Tari his. For she was.
“News broadcast. The other three are missed. Yours, not even mentioned other than ‘a rumored fourth person’ so I ask again. Why?”
His shrug relayed more than he could say. He had no clue about that whatsoever. However, he would find out. He fisted his left hand then lowered it.
Ryder lifted a brow before glancing pointedly at his left hand. “Something wrong to make you reach for that?”
Galen scowled when he realized his hand had closed around the butt of his sidearm. His skin prickled like danger hovered immanently.
“Tari,” he muttered, the singular word sounded barely more than guttural. Like someone shoved their hand down his throat and ripped the word from him.
Ryder never even blinked. “Go.” The word fell.
Galen went. Fast. It didn’t make sense but he could feel her fear. Deep, powerful, and very real. And as asinine as it may have been to the logical part of his brain, there was this protective, possessive, and primal nature which had taken root and grown like wildfire. All dealing with Tari.
His heavy boots thundered as he ran to medical. He entered unsure of what scene he would find. The room mostly silent, the exception being Baby Boy’s preferred music. Galen slid his gaze to Tari.
She sat on a table, Baby Boy by her shoulder as he checked his own work. Tari held herself as stiff as a board while the man continued to inspect the injury. Panic overflowed from her eyes and when their gazes connected her fear so thick he could taste it. She needed him. Without further thought, he hastened to her side and reached out to touch her face, ignoring Baby Boy’s scrutiny.
He knew the man would cut out his own heart before injuring Tari, but she didn’t know him.
