LyonsPrice (12 page)

She blinked in confusion, but didn’t stop him as he teased a
strand of dark hair free and gently began to wind it around a large finger.

“I
can
get you kicked out?”

He chuckled, a rich and intimate sound that filled the small
room.

“Of course you can, you’re not a prisoner. In fact, if you
screamed, there are probably four medics in the immediate vicinity who’d
happily kick my ass and show me the door. You have quite the little fan club
after that rescue, you know.”

She sat there, stunned. He didn’t seem mad. That was good. But
the rest of what he was saying didn’t make sense. Sure, she remembered the
shuttle and fleeing from the Fleet ships into the asteroid belt. But then there
was brightness, pain and then nothing. She didn’t recall anything else.

“I do?”

He smiled, lounging against the arm of the chair as he
played with her hair. It was distracting, but she managed to keep her attention
on his face.

“Oh yes, and the fact you strapped Archon to the deck
plating seems to have elevated you to goddess-like status. Already I’ve had
several requests to—” He wrinkled his nose and looked at her hair intently.

She looked at it too, expecting there to be something wrong
the way he was looking at it. Perhaps a piece of fluff or, God forbid,
something grossly unpleasant. She’d been a nurse far too long not to be aware
of the horrors lurking in a medical facility.

There was nothing wrong with it. Just plain, dark hair. The
same as it always had been. He was avoiding the rest of that sentence. She put
her hand over his, making him look at her.

“Forgive me if I’m a little slow picking things up here.
But… What the
hell
are you going on about? You say I’m not a prisoner,
good. Can I go home now? Are you still mad at me?”

The instant that last comment slipped out, she kicked
herself. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t reveal how she felt about him. Yet
that one sentence, spoken with almost childlike innocence and yearning, gave
the whole game away.

Perhaps he hadn’t heard it? Just for one instant she thought
she’d gotten away with it. That the universe had decided to give her a break
for once. The look he leveled at her blew any chances of that away. Blunt and
direct, it was as though he could see right into her soul.

“No, sweetling, I’m not mad at you.”

His voice was soft as he moved closer. At the same time he
pulled on the strand of hair he had wrapped around his finger to draw her in.
The touch was light, she could break free at any time. Physically.
Mentally…emotionally? It would take a shuttle at jump speed to make her move
away.

“I’m not mad at you at all. I think you’re the most
beautiful, bravest, sexiest, honest, genuine, cleverest…did I say sexiest
already?”

She nodded, still holding her breath, but with the hint of a
smile beginning to threaten her lips. She wasn’t sure she was really hearing
this. Concussion did strange things to people. She could be dreaming.

“Good…sexiest, wisest, hmmm—” He paused with a rueful grin.
“Can I cut this crap and just say I love you?”

She had to be dreaming. Her mind had taken a walk on the
crazy side and was giving her exactly what she wanted. Wide-eyed, disbelief
running through her veins, she just looked up at him. She knew she must look
like some cow-eyed teenager with the object of all her teen fantasizes right in
front of her, but she didn’t care.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.”

His voice was husky as he dropped the curl and slid his hand
into the heavy mass of her hair. Strong fingers caressed the back of her neck
as he pulled her into his arms. His movements were gentle despite his size and
the power she knew he was capable of.

“Like what?” she managed, her voice barely a whisper in the
silence of the room.

“Vulnerable, innocent, delicate.”

She winced a little. Here she was so determined not to show
weakness and that was all he saw. Dipping her head, she tried to look away.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try not to.”

“Hey.”

His fingers tightened on her nape and a hard finger hooked
around her chin. He pulled so she had no choice but to look at him. Instead of
the condemnation she was expecting, his eyes were filled with heat.

“Why do you say that? You don’t need to.”

He leaned forward and whispered his lips over hers. It
wasn’t a kiss, it was the hint of a kiss, and it whetted her appetite for more.
Who was she kidding? Having him hold her again was indescribable and she’d
happily lie here for eternity with her head pillowed against his strong
shoulder. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though, kissing the corner of her
lips leisurely and making his way across to nuzzle at her neck.

She shivered at the sensual torment.

“Because you guys don’t like it, do you? Weakness that is.
I-I figured you wouldn’t want to see that part of me.”

He pulled back, surprise on his face. “What? The
human
side? You think you’re weak because you’re
human
?”

She nodded miserably. She expected a lot of reactions, even
braced herself for several possibilities. What she didn’t expect was the fond
chuckle and for his lips to descend on hers. With ruthless determination, he
swept aside all her defenses and deepened the kiss until she whimpered and
clung to him. By the time he lifted his head, both their breathing was ragged.

“
That’s
what I think about that. Sweetheart, being
human doesn’t make you weak. Not at all. You managed to kick the Fleet’s ass
when we couldn’t, does that sound weak to you? As for being less physically
hardy than we are…”

Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck again, going right for the
spot that made her weak at the knees and her body clench hard in need.

“I’m so fucking hard right now I could use my cock as a
flagpole. I
like
that you’re delicate, I
like
that aura of
innocence and vulnerability. It makes me hot. And I like that I can protect
you. It does something, fills some need inside.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes and tapped the middle
of his broad chest lightly. Lyon drew in a ragged breath, the fire in his eyes
banked. She could still see it, though, just ready to flare into life. He
looked at her, a worried expression on his face.

“Say something, please, sweetling,” he begged. “I’m going
nuts here wondering whether you want me or whether I blew my chance with you
back there on the shuttle.”

She watched him through unreadable eyes, hardly able to
believe what she was hearing. The protective little ball she’d rolled her heart
up into relaxed a little, then a little more.

Despite the studied nonchalance of his body, the pleading
tone in his voice and the look in his eyes told the tale of how panicked he
was. Wonder filled her. He wanted her, weaknesses and all. Warmth spread from
her heart and outward, to fill every part of her body as a sense of relief and
exhilaration surged through her.

He loved her. That was all that mattered. It didn’t matter
who he was or who she was. The only thing that mattered right now was the two
of them and the soul-deep connection she could feel tightening between them.
Binding them together.

Pursing her lips, she gave him a coy look. “Well, I don’t
know. Perhaps I should take a look at this fan club you say I have before I
make a decision…”

The scowl on Lyon’s face was matched in ferocity by the
growl rumbling in the big chest. “Right. You’re better,” he declared and
scooped her up into his arms, sheet and all.

“Lyon! What are you doing?”

She grabbed at his broad shoulders as he headed for the
door. He wouldn’t drop her, but she liked the feel of the hard muscles under
her hands. Remembered what they felt like bunching with power as he took her.

He treated her to a look full of dark heat and intent as he
walked down the corridor and emerged through a door into the sunshine. Samara
barely noticed the buildings of the settlement, real outpost colony-type
constructions, as he started walking again.

“I’m taking you to my home.
Our
home,” he corrected.
“And I’m going to show you why the only fan club you’ll ever need is right
here. Forever.”

As they walked through the small settlement, Samara could
feel the interest. It beat on them from all sides as people, both male and
female, stopped what they were doing to look at them. They were all cyborgs.

Nestling closer to the hardness of Lyon’s chest, she looked
back with wide eyes. This was going to be her home. As long as Lyon was here,
then so was she, and she had to get to know these people, integrate into their
society.

The sun was hot, prickling across any exposed skin. In the
hospital gown and just a sheet, she felt naked and a little uncomfortable.

“Why are they all looking at me?” she whispered, tucking her
head into the curve of his shoulder and neck.

He chuckled in reply. A deep male sound of triumph-tinged
amusement. “They’re not looking at you, sweetling, or they’d better not be.
They’re looking at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never taken a woman home.”

She blinked at that and sat up to look at him directly.
“What? Ever? But…you’ve… Uhm…” Her words faltered as she tried to put into
words what she was thinking without offending him. Instead she just gave him a
“look”.

He read her mind easily. The look on his face was open and
brutally honest as he replied.

“Yes, I’ve had women. But I’ve never found one I wanted to
spend the rest of my life, or even longer than a night, with. Now that I’ve
found her…that’s you in case you missed that…I’m not letting you go.”

The darkness in his eyes changed, heat swirling in the green
depths that took her breath away. It made erotic promises of what was going to
happen when he got her alone. She shivered, awed at the passion and feeling she
could engender in him.

By the time he shouldered open the door of a small,
one-level dwelling, the hum of excitement in Samara’s veins had risen to fever
pitch. Ducking his head, he stepped into the coolness beyond the door and into
a small living area.

It was neat and tidy. The usual for this type of colony
building, the hardened plasti-foam walls extended into low couches and other
furniture. She knew the type. She’d grown up in one.

He ignored the main room, sweeping right through it with the
force of a tsunami, and into the sleeping area. Like all pod housing, the
facilities were in a screened-off area in the same room.

Still holding her easily, Lyon stepped into the sonic cleanser
and hit the button. The machine hummed as it activated. She sighed in relief as
the waves washed over them, disintegrating the dirt and grime of the shuttle
journey. It wasn’t as good as a water shower, but she didn’t care.

The cycle still running, he let go of her legs. Silence
crowded into the little space with them, not that there was much with two of
them in a cubicle designed for one and his massive shoulders taking up most of
what was left.

A shiver ran through her as, deliberately, he slid her down
his lean, hard body. And it was hard
all
over. Biting her lip, she
pressed closer to him, desperate for the feel of his skin on hers. Ignored, the
sheet fell away into a heap at their feet.

“Never letting you go,” he promised as he pressed her against
the wall and kissed her. Like a flower opening to the sun, she parted her lips.
He groaned in approval, the sound triumphant as he drove his tongue into her
mouth and took what he wanted.

Whimpering in need under the onslaught of his lips, she ran
her hands over his broad shoulders. She needed to touch him. Needed proof that
this was real, that she wasn’t dreaming it. That he’d really said he loved her.

“Don’t. I don’t want you to,” she murmured as he moved onto
her neck, hot kisses leaving a trail of fire. One hand braced on the wall above
them, he bracketed her body with his, as though he was protecting her from the
world beyond.

“This is just ugly as hell.” His other hand snaked around
her neck and stripped the hospital gown from her in three quick and efficient
movements. The fabric dropped unheeded to the floor to join the sheet.

He sucked a ragged breath in, eyes dark as they swept over
her revealed body. A muscle jumped at the corner of his jaw. “You get sexier
every time I see you. How do you do that?”

Unsure how to answer that, she just shrugged. The movement
set her naked breasts jiggling. Instantly his attention snapped to them and the
black of his eyes swallowed the green. Clenching his fists, he looked down at
her, but didn’t touch. Unbidden, her nipples tightened into dark little buds.
Inviting the touch of his fingers, his lips. An image of his head bent over
her, dark against her pale skin as he suckled her, filled her mind. Heat
arrowed through her body, her clit aching as she fought to contain her whimper.

“I should have said this earlier. If you don’t want this,
you can leave.” The words were low and tightly controlled, as though forced out
of him grudgingly.

“Cael will take you back to a Fleet colony or you can stay
here. You’ll…” He paused, as though he didn’t want to say what he was going to.
When he carried on, the words were little more than a growl of anger. “You’ll
find plenty of men willing to offer you their protection.”

The last small knot in Samara’s heart worked its way loose
and disappeared. He was offering her freedom. She wasn’t a prisoner. She had a
choice.

“Do you know what they say about letting something go?”

He looked puzzled, the scowl still in place. His body almost
vibrated with the control it was taking to stay in place and not touch her.
Samara smiled and slipped under his arm.

“If it returns to you, it’s yours.” She smiled over her
shoulder. “Lyon, if you don’t take me to bed right now, I’ll go look up that
fan club.”