Turbulence (4 page)

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not really interested in one right now.”

“That’s what everybody says when they’re single and don’t
have options.”

“I have options,” she disagreed, insulted at his assumption.
“I have lots of options.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah? Who?”

“That’s none of your business.” Okay, maybe she didn’t have
any suitors right now, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have options. Avalon was
not looking for a mate at this time in her life. When she found the right guy
she’d know. She was saving herself for whoever he was. So she had to make sure
he was special. They would share their blood and eventually children. It wasn’t
something to be taken lightly.

“You’re right,” he admitted, much to her shock. “It’s none
of my business. I don’t have a mate either.”

“Do you want a mate?”

“Hell no. The day I bond to a woman is the day I declare
that Dex looks better than me. And darling, we both know that ain’t true.”

He was extremely handsome, but not in a classic, pretty-boy
way. Greyson’s attractiveness stemmed from the unpolished, forbidden essence of
him. It was magnetic. With that said, she wondered what made Greyson not want a
mate. He could have any unbonded woman at this colony.

 “Are you afraid of love?” she inquired.

He gave a harsh bark of laughter. “I’m not afraid. I just
don’t want it. Being in love is like being trapped in a prison cell. It’s
difficult to get out of once you get thrown in.”

Never in her life had she ever heard of love being compared
to jail. It was a lovely and beautiful thing to those lucky enough to find it.
Someone must have damaged his heart so badly that now he evaded love. What
other reason could there be?

“Do you like movies, Avalon?”

She blinked, taken off guard with the change in
conversation. Guess he really didn’t want to discuss his love life. She
couldn’t blame him. “Yes. I like to watch them.”

“Have you ever heard of
High Noon
?” he asked.

She wrinkled her noses while she thought. “No.”

He sat up straighter, his eyes gleaming with joy. During the
brief time she’d known Greyson, Avalon caught him teasing and joking around
with people. She had never seen him happy like this.

“You’re missing out, Avalon. It’s a western. Love westerns.
It is about duty and honor and standing on your own when no one else will stand
with you. I won’t bore you with the specifics, but you have to watch it.” She
wondered whether the movie had any comparisons to his life.

“I’m not sure I’d like it. I’ve never seen a western.”

“Oh, yeah? Then what’s your favorite movie?”

Not too long ago Avalon saw a movie on television that made
her bawl her eyes out. Her grandmother even loved it and she preferred action
movies, citing her reason why as being because Bruce Willis was the man of her
dreams.

“
The Notebook
,” she answered.

All emotion slipped off Greyson’s face. He placed his hands
over his heart. “I’m dead. You just killed me.”

“What’s wrong with
The Notebook
?”

“It’s the quintessential sappy love story that girls love
and guys hate. I almost started taking a liking to you, Avalon. The romance
novels I could forgive. That movie just ruined it.”

“You disliked me before?” This was the first time they spent
more than five minutes together. How could he not like her?

“I was kidding. Didn’t know you before.” He ran a hand
through his disheveled long, blonde hair. Avalon had the unreasonable urge to
run her fingers through it to see whether it was as thick as it looked.

Greyson gestured with his head to the left. “What I do know
is that your grandmother looks like she’s about to ride off on a Harley any
second. And you should probably stop her because she also looks like she’s
about to pour liquor into the punch to spike it. I’m up for that kind of thing,
but there are children here. Gotta be responsible.” He winked.

Avalon glanced over to where the punch sat on the serving
table. Looking briefly around her to see whether anyone was watching, Veeva
eased a small bottle out of her purse. Avalon popped up out of her seat.

“Excuse me. I have to go, sir.”

He smirked. “See you tomorrow.”

 Before Veeva could spike the punch, Avalon snatched the
bottle of liquor and her purse away. Amidst Veeva’s protests, she dragged the
old woman out. There were only so many of her antics Avalon could take in a
twenty-four hour period without exploding.

Chapter 4

Avalon let herself into the farmhouse the next morning with
the key she’d been given. All was quiet. Everyone must have still been asleep.
Slumber had not come easy to her last night.

After she and her grandmother arrived back at the cabin,
they exchanged words that consisted of Avalon telling Veeva that her behavior
was embarrassing and unacceptable. To which Veeva responded by saying Avalon
wasn’t her boss, therefore she could do as she pleased. It was enough to give
anybody a headache.

Avalon had tossed and turned in bed, her mind locked on
figuring out how to tone down her grandmother’s behavior. When she finally
managed to drift off to sleep, she dreamed of Greyson. Of eyes so warm and
brown they were like melted chocolate. Of his messy golden hair. His deep,
enticing voice. It made no sense that he was what her unconscious mind latched
onto.

Avalon grabbed a bowl out of the kitchen cabinet and began
dumping the dry ingredients into the bowl to make waffle batter. She was just
adding salt when the sound of footsteps coming from the stairwell off the
kitchen brought her head up. That was the stairwell leading to Greyson’s suite
of rooms.

The dark haired woman she saw Greyson talking to on the lawn
a few days ago descended into the kitchen. Her hair looked like a mini tornado had
landed on her head. The edge of the tight dress she wore was ripped. It wasn’t
a mystery as to what caused the disarrayed look the woman wore. For some
unknown reason, it aggravated Avalon.

“Good morning,” she bit out as she threw an eggshell into
the trashcan.

The woman gave her a lazy smile. “Yes. A good morning it is.
Are you Avalon?”

“Yes.”

“Greyson said to give this to you.” She held out a silver
cell phone. Avalon took it questioningly.

“Why would he give this to me?”

“Because you’re the maid, I guess,” she snickered and walked
off.

Avalon sat it on the counter. Greyson probably wanted her to
disinfect it or take his calls or something. She resumed her task of making the
waffle batter.

Not more than two minutes had gone by before the cell phone
started ringing. She ignored it. It stopped, only to start ringing all over
again. She picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Jalena didn’t tell you to answer the phone.” Of course, it
was Greyson.

“I assumed—”

“You assumed correctly. That phone is yours. I expect you to
answer it whenever I call. Save this number in the contacts and any others I
call you from.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring me up breakfast on a tray. Make it a healthy portion.
I worked up an appetite.”

Avalon wished she didn’t know what activity he engaged in to
work up such a voracious appetite. “Do you have a preference, sir? I’m making
waffles, bacon and eggs.”

“That’s fine. Just add blueberries to my waffles. Don’t
forget my mimosa.”

The phone clicked in her ear. When he said she had to be at
his beck and call, she didn’t think that included attaching a cell phone to her
hip. Now she understood what Lily meant when she warned her to keep time with
Greyson to a minimum. Unfortunately, Avalon didn’t really have a choice in the
matter.

She whipped up just enough breakfast for Greyson, choosing
to wait until she heard Lily and Dex stir so they could eat their food while it
was hot. She put Greyson’s breakfast on a plate, butter in a dish, and warm
syrup in a gravy boat. Then she filled up a glass with freshly squeezed orange
juice and sparkling champagne.

Avalon carried everything up the stairs on a tray. His door
was partially open. Still, she used her foot to knock on the door since her
hands were otherwise occupied.

“Come in.” The door blew open, the gust of wind fluttering
the wisps of hair that managed to escape the bun in her head. Greyson’s talent
must have involved air.

All conscious thought left her when she laid eyes on him. He
was lying in bed. A sheet covered the lower half of his body. But the upper
portion was bared for her eyes to behold. There didn’t appear to be an inch of
fat on his golden body. The broad width of his shoulders narrowed down to a chiseled
chest and rippled abs that looked carved from stone. His equally powerfully
built arms rested behind his head.

Never before had Avalon seen so much of a man’s body that
wasn’t on television or described in a book. She wanted to look away, yet she
couldn’t. He was… His body was remarkable and she hadn’t even seen the entire
thing.

Greyson cleared his throat. “Um, Avalon, I’m flattered that
you’re staring, but I’m hungry.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir.” If her stuttering did not show her
embarrassment then the blush did.

She hustled over and put the tray on the bed. He sat up and
moved the tray across his lap. She wished he would cover up because her gaze
kept straying to his chest. Avalon forced her attention to other parts of the
room. It was white and gray and black. As far as bedrooms went, it was extremely
practical and no-frills. A place for sleeping and other bedroom activities, but
nothing else.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

He gestured with his butter knife to the bed. “Sit.”

On the bed? Oh, no. There was a good chance he didn’t have
anything on underneath the covers and quite frankly, Avalon was already feeling
uncomfortable with the situation and her response to him. “I don’t think that
would be appropriate, sir.”

He studied her for a second, unnerving her and causing her
ears to feel hot. “Then bring that chair in the corner closer to the bed. Eat
with me.”

Not that again. What was he? The food police? “I have work
to do. Enjoy your breakfast.”

She turned to leave, stepped over an empty wine bottle. His
big authoritative voice halted her. “Avalon. I said to get the chair. We are
having breakfast together. End of discussion.”

Grudgingly she did as he demanded. But from the scowl on her
face, she let him know she wasn’t happy. Which was very unlike her since she
was taught to never show her emotions around her superiors.

He grinned at her, enjoying her annoyance. “Cheer up, Lonnie
Girl. Do you know how many women want to share breakfast with me?”

“Lots, I’m sure,” she grumbled around a mouthful of bacon.

“That’s right. But I don’t let them.”

Despite herself, she asked, “Why not?”

He started to pour syrup over the waffles but stopped. “Do
you like syrup?” When she nodded, he began pouring. “To answer your question,
it’s because it gives them ideas. Share a meal with a woman and next thing you
know, they think you want to blood bond to them. Or marry them if the girl is
human.”

“You’re sharing breakfast with me,” she pointed out. She was
one hundred percent sure he didn’t desire her romantically or even physically.

“This isn’t personal. You are the housekeeper. I can’t have
you fainting around here because you’re starving yourself.”

“I don’t starve myself. I eat.”

“Then eat this.”

He held a forkful of waffles dripping in syrup in front of
her. Their eyes locked and Avalon wasn’t quite sure what passed between them,
but it made butterflies swarm in her belly. She opened her mouth and took what
he was offering, keeping her eyes on him.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes change colors? Blue
and violet.” His voice lowered. “They are remarkable.”

“Yes. It’s an emotional response,” she answered, allowing
him to feed her again.

“What are you feeling right now?”

“I…” She swallowed. “I don’t know.” Never before had she
felt this. And she didn’t even know what “this” was.

Still keeping their gazes locked, he dapped her mouth with
the napkin. “I don’t know how I feel either.”

“Is that strange?”

“Very. I usually know everything.”

Avalon laughed. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” Greyson was the
type of man that not only knew what he wanted, but he got it too.

“You have a nice laugh. It’s sweet.” His eyes drifted down
to her lips. She wasn’t sure what prompted her to do it, but she licked them. And
she thought she heard him groan.

“Thank you,” she replied, a little breathless.

Greyson leaned in. Avalon couldn’t have moved if she tried.
“I’m going to be gone today. I have to investigate something in town. Will you
eat lunch without me here to force you?”

“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll take pictures to prove that I
eat.”

A little closer. “Good girl. Avalon, I—” He frowned and
pulled back, breaking whatever spell that had them bound. “Never mind. Uh, eat
whatever you’d like. I’ll take what’s leftover. I’m going to shower.”

In a rush, he moved the tray and slid out of the bed, taking
the sheet with him and slamming the bathroom door. Though shaken up at whatever
they just shared and the churning of emotions inside of her, Avalon couldn’t
help but wonder why Greyson had taken such an interest in her. Even if it was
only to ensure she ate. Why did it delight her?

----

Greyson never liked these check-ins. It felt like there were
eyes all around and someone behind the scenes questioning his every move. He
didn’t like being checked up on or feeling like he was not in control.

He leaned forward on his desk, hands clasped. “You’ve seen
everything is fine here, Barney. I have somewhere to be. You know your way
out.”

Keith Barney was a good kid. A little nerdy looking. Greyson
might have liked him if he worked for anyone other than Homeland Security.
Though they were helping out the Jhetans, he still did not trust them. There
were fishy things that went on behind the scenes of government agencies. His
father was a member of the Jhetan high council, so Greyson knew how underhanded
some folks could be based on the stories his father often told about those who
were corrupt.

“Not yet, Mr. Kane,” Barney responded. “I need you to sign
some things.”

“Sign what?”

He opened his briefcase, pulled out a folder and slid it to
Greyson. “Just a few liability forms.”

There were always new liability forms. It seemed the suits
spent most of their time finding new ways to take any future blame off
themselves and put it on the Jhetans. If shit were to ever hit the fan
concerning alien activity, the United States government would get off scot-free
and have the right to retaliate against them.

Greyson flipped through the forms, scanning them and
absorbing the information. He signed his name to the dotted lines. He’d let
them off the hook. The Jhetans were his responsibility anyway. If something
were to cause a conflict to escalate to a national or global level, he wouldn’t
be counting on Homeland Security to have their backs. Nor would he spare any
humans in their defense.

“This all?” Greyson asked.

Barney slid the folder back into his briefcase. “I believe
so, yes. Unless you require something of me.”

“Nope. Not unless you have news on Department X.”

“I’m afraid not. It appears they have gone underground.
Let’s hope they remain there.”

Please. An organization like that would not run away in
fright and hide. They were likely regrouping for a more brutal attack. One
Greyson hoped to prevent.

“If you hear anything, let me know. Those bastards need to
be taken down.”

“I agree, Mr. Kane. We are doing the best we can.
Unfortunately, our attention cannot be focused solely on them.”

Greyson ran a hand through his hair. That was the reason he
insisted the sentries take up the investigation into Department X. Homeland
Security shut him down hard on the matter, which didn’t go over well with
Greyson. Had Dex not stepped in and smoothed down all the ruffled feathers on
both sides, their little alliance would have been shredded to pieces.
Eventually, Greyson grudgingly agreed to allow Homeland Security to take the
reins on the investigation. Just as he expected, so far they’d uncovered
nothing.

Barney stood up. “Well, I had better be off. My colleagues
should be done by now.”

Meaning they were done visiting every cabin, asking a
million questions, and making everyone feel like spiders were crawling down
their backs. Yeah, he hoped they were done too.

When Barney left, Greyson pulled out his bottle of rum and
took a swig. He watched from the huge window in his office as the black
government issued vehicle pulled away from his home.

----

Greyson slammed the front door of the farmhouse, cell phone
up to his ear.

“Ross,” his brother stated when he picked up.

“Be outside of your cabin in two minutes.” Greyson hung up.

He jogged down the stairs and slid into the driver’s side of
his black SUV with its tinted windows and black leather seats. Whenever he
drove into town, he suspected people thought him to be some sort of drug dealer
or gangster when he stepped out of it, judging from the disapproving looks he
received. That was only one of the many rumors floating around out there about
him—and his people. There was no end to the human imagination.

If the government was willing to shell out tons of cash to
keep the Jhetans under a microscope, he might as well take full advantage of it
and drive in style.

A few minutes later he pulled to a stop in front of a cabin
a bit larger than the rest since it belonged to the head of the sentries. Ross
opened the passenger door and got in. Greyson drove off while his brother
locked himself in with the seatbelt.

“We need to do some probing. Lola Riddick claims Davie went
into town earlier this week. He hasn’t been back since. She thinks he was
abducted or something, which I think is bull. He probably left her for a young,
hot chick.”

Ross stared out the window as they passed cabin after cabin.
“You shouldn’t make assumptions. Just because you don’t believe in being
devoted to one woman doesn’t mean all men are the same. Something horrible
could have happened to Davie.”