Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) (15 page)

“You don’t believe me.” Humor hid behind her compressed
lips.

“Does it matter? You like the way I look, that’s all I care
about.” Something else occurred to him. “Wait, you said it would make your life
harder. Why would my looks make your life harder?”

She moved to sit on his lap, curling her arms over his
shoulders. Her cheek rested against his neck. “Because if you ever decide to
lower your shields, as you’ve done with me, women are going to throw themselves
at you. I’ll spend the rest of my life shooing them away. Or…” Her voice grew
soft, hesitant. “You might like one of them more.”

He gripped her shoulders and bent his head to get in her
face. “Not possible. You’re my match.”

Her lips compressed before she spoke. “That’s a DNA thing.
Look at Samara and Chase. He likes her more than his match.”

“Chase hasn’t met his match. He could leave Samara someday.”
He regretted his words immediately, if they caused the sad look on her face.
“It’s different for us.”

“How?”

He froze, not sure what to say next. He cursed his lack of
experience with women and relationships in general. What did she want to hear
from him? “I don’t know, we just are.” He tried changing the topic. “What time
do you have to be at school today? I can drive you and pick you up.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, but she allowed the change of
subject for the moment. “It’s Friday. I don’t have any classes on Friday. We
can stay in bed all day.” Her eyebrows waggled at him and he laughed.

“By bed you mean more sex, right?” he asked.

“You said it, not me. But I need to rest first. I haven’t
been up this early on a non-school day in a while.”

And he’d never slept this late. Seemed like a waste to him, but
then he eyed her soft body snuggling back into the covers and decided he could
probably rest a while longer.

An hour later, he woke and blinked against the light they’d
left on. He extricated his arm from under Emma’s body. His stomach rumbled and
he remembered he could do something about it now. After shoving on some
clothes, he wandered through the main office building where Emma’s apartment
was located, over to the cafeteria. The clock on the wall told him it was 9:30,
later than he’d ever come for breakfast.

The cafeteria was empty except for a handful of the younger
soldiers, some of whom he’d broken bread with last night. They hailed him as he
walked toward the food display.

“Xander!”

“Morning.”

“We’ll save you a seat.”

He plucked a tray off the pile and glanced over his shoulder
at the group who grinned expectantly at him. He nodded back. This was what it
was like to have friends. People who seemed genuinely happy to see you. He
studied platters of pancakes and turkey bacon, trying to decide if he liked
this new relationship with the younger cohort. Would they still listen to him
if he went in to train their class?

After selecting three hardboiled eggs out of the bucket, a
handful of orange slices and a banana, he turned and walked over to where his
new friends waited. “Good morning.” He sat. “Do you always eat this late?”

A few chuckled. “Nah, but Shep gave us the morning off since
it’s a holiday weekend.”

“Columbus Day,” another guy said at Xander’s blank look.

That’s right, it was. He’d lost track of days during his
captivity. He started to peel his egg with economic efficiency.

“How come you’re in here late?” one boy asked. “Emma keep
you up all night?”

The egg slid from his grasp and bounced gently onto his
plate. He gripped the wooden edge of the table as he looked at the soldier who
was about to die for daring to pry into his relationship. Then he noticed every
face at the table had gone from easy laughter to edgy. He tried to remember how
Adam and his other matched colleagues acted about their women and wished Emma
were here to guide him. “Something like that.” He went back to his egg and the
others visibly relaxed.

Conversation swirled around him as he ate. “Yo, Xander.” He
looked up at the soldier who called him. “I’ve been dying to learn some Krav
Maga, can you show me a few moves later?”

He swallowed his last bite of banana. “Yeah, I can find some
time for that.” His gaze circled the table. “All of you?”

At least four of them nodded. “Okay, I can do that.” He
paused as another thought occurred to him. “I could use some help a little
later. I want to get Emma moved in with me. Any of you available to carry bags
of her shit and maybe some of her furniture?”

Every single one of them nodded. He kind of liked this buddy
thing. Especially if it meant he had extra pairs of hands. “Cool, I’ll let you
know when Shep gives us a new housing assignment and when she’s packed.
Speaking of…” He glanced again at the clock. “Gonna bring her breakfast now.
Later.” He stood, taking his tray and agreeing to meet them at the gym around
four.

He ditched the tray in the proper receptacle—even he was
afraid to thwart Marlena—and found a plate to fill with food for Emma. He’d
noted she had a sweet tooth, so he piled on the pancakes with syrup. He wanted
her to have some protein and vitamin C, and he added some eggs to the plate and
stuck an orange in his pocket.

He made it two feet out into the cool fall sunshine when he
heard his father calling his name. His stomach clenched as it always did and he
turned, fully at attention, despite the plate of food balanced in his hands.

“Son. It’s late for breakfast.”

Good morning to you too, Dad.
“This is for Emma.
She’s still sleeping.” The explanation poured from his lips as if he owed his
father any explanations whatsoever.

“Well, get it to her, then meet me on the shooting range.
You haven’t held a weapon in five weeks.”

“But…”

His father didn’t wait around for excuses. He was already
three feet away and calling over his shoulder, “Six minutes. Get your ass in
gear.”

He watched his father’s back for a minute, then turned to
deliver Emma her food. His fantasy of lying in bed with her and feeding her by
hand was shot to hell. If he did what he wanted and ignored his father’s
wishes, he’d be too wound up to enjoy himself. Fuck.

He picked up his pace and walked into Emma’s apartment to
see her still sleeping. Her pale lashes shadowed her cheeks. He set the plate
down on the table and went to shake her awake.

“Emma,” he whispered. “Em. Wake up. I brought you
breakfast.”

She blinked and opened one eye. “Xander. Go back to bed.”

“I’m going to the shooting range. Be back soon. Eat your
breakfast and start packing.”

Emma sat up in bed, blinking as the door to her apartment
shut behind Xander’s fine ass. Why was he leaving when she’d promised him a day
in bed? She stretched her sore muscles. It was going to take her body a while
to get used to all the sex. She sat up to locate the source of the yummy smell
floating her way and saw a plate with a little curl of steam rising from it.
That’s right, Xander had said something about eating breakfast. She got up and
rummaged through her drawer for a t-shirt and some panties.

Once dressed, she sat on a chair at her table and took a few
bites of pancakes. She’d barely chewed when Xander’s other words came back to
her. Had he said he was going to the shooting range? She tried to replay the
conversation in her mind but couldn’t, as she’d been mostly sleeping. Surely he
wouldn’t have ditched her naked in bed to go play with guns? Would he? The only
reason she could think he’d done it was because he was following orders.

She took another bite of pancake, torn between checking on
him and leaving it alone. He’d promised to never interfere with her college
work, and she should follow the same procedure when it came to his work. But
maybe she could peek in on the gun range. To say hi. If he looked annoyed,
she’d leave. If he was happy to see her, she could stay and maybe learn a thing
or two about shooting. It would likely be a good thing for her to learn how to
defend herself.

Pushing the breakfast plate aside and making a mental note
to return the plate to the cafeteria later, she went and found some more
clothes. She took a minute to brush her teeth and run a brush over her hair,
pulling it back into a queue. She slid her feet into shoes and slipped on a
jacket.

Three minutes later she peeked into the indoor gun range and
found a few soldiers. Not Xander. “Is there another shooting range?” she asked
one man.

He pulled off his protective headset and stepped outside
with her. “There’s the outdoor sniper range. You looking for Xander?”

She nodded.

“I saw him and his dad head over there a few minutes ago. Be
careful and enter from the rear.”

She started walking in the direction she’d been given and a
few minutes later saw a grassy hill surrounded by a tall metal fence with
barbed wire at the top. She’d walked by it only a few times, as it was at the
very edge of campus. She’d never known what it was before, now she knew.

As she got closer, she saw Mr. Bristack standing with arms
folded across his chest. Xander lay on his belly at his father’s feet, holding
a long black gun. She waited until she heard the explosive sound of a shot
firing and then called a greeting.

Xander sat up immediately and whirled to face her. She
smiled up at him from the bottom of the hill. “What are you doing here?” he
asked.

Not exactly the greeting she’d been hoping for. She forced a
smile. “I came to check on you. I thought I’d heard you say you were going to
the shooting range. Surely you didn’t mean to go against Doctor Wise’s and
Commander Shepard’s orders to rest today?”

Xander’s knuckles grew white against his grip on the gun. “I
feel fine. You can wait for me at the apartment. Go pack.”

She ignored him and turned to his father. “Mr. Bristack,
don’t you think Xander should be resting today? He’s come through an ordeal.”

“My son is fine, Emma. Go back to your apartment. I’ll send
Xander back to you when he’s finished here and has run a few miles.”

“Run… Run a few miles?” Her voice rose to a high-pitched
whine by the last word. “Are you insane?” She marched up the hill a few steps.
“Have you seen his feet? He should barely be walking, let alone running!”

She looked to Xander, but he was silent, staring at his gun.
“Xander, come back with me right now.” She pointed to the ground at her feet
and waited.

Xander remained still. Mr. Bristack’s smirk grew more
pronounced. She’d erred. She was asking Xander to pick between her and his
father, something he obviously wasn’t ready for yet. “Xander?” Her query was a
whisper. “Please don’t be stupid. I’ll…I’ll be back at my apartment.” She
turned and ran down the hill, picking up speed, and sprinted the entire way
back to her apartment.

She inwardly cursed the situation the whole walk back. Maybe
she shouldn’t have asked Xander to pick her over his father, but she probably
shouldn’t get involved with a man still held in thrall to his father. It was
asking for heartbreak. It had seemed so easy just a short while ago. They’d
stand up to his father together, but if he wasn’t willing to meet her even
halfway, they could be doomed.

When she got to her apartment four of the younger soldiers were
huddled outside her door.

“Whoa, Emma slow down. What’s wrong?” one of them asked. His
name was Derek.

She realized she had tears streaming down her face. “What
are you doing here?” she asked between sobs.

“Xander asked us to help you move. We know it’s early, but
are you ready yet?”

She looked at their faces through watery eyes and shook her
head. “I’m not moving anywhere today.”

She made it into her apartment, slamming and locking the
door for the first time behind her. Tears streamed down her face and she
collapsed onto the futon she hadn’t bothered to fold up before chasing after
Xander.

The honeymoon was officially over. There’d been a day and a
half of sheer bliss, thinking Xander was the perfect man for her, and now…this.
She’d been deluded, thinking he’d shrugged off all the baggage of his past and
recreated himself into the perfect boyfriend.

As long as he remained afraid of his father, he’d never be
his own man. And that was why she was crying. She was sad for herself, but she
was sadder for him. At thirty years old, Xander still hadn’t found enough
self-worth to say no to his emotionally abusive father. Given the demands of
running today on his injured feet, it bordered on physical abuse, even if no
fists were involved.

A pounding at her door had her sitting upright. “Emma, open
the door.”

Xander.

She stared at the door while the pounding continued. “Emma,
open the damn door or I’ll bust it in.”

He would too. She got up to open it. Xander burst into the
apartment, turning wild eyes on her. He loomed over her where she stood trapped
between the futon and the wall of the apartment. “Why did you follow me to the
shooting range?”

The grown-out crew cut, the grizzly beard and his glower
would’ve made another woman grab her passport and catch the first flight to
anywhere. If she hadn’t had the last twenty hours of seeing a loving, gentler
side of Xander, she’d be running for the protection of Shep’s office about now.

Still, it required a deep breath to cross her arms over her
chest and stand up to him. “I followed you because I was worried.”

He cocked his head. “Why?”

She took a tiny step closer. “Because I thought we were
spending the day together. Because you were supposed to be resting. Because I
don’t like being left alone in bed naked.”

“Oh.” His arms relaxed at his sides. “Sorry. My dad ran into
me on the way back from the cafeteria and asked if I wanted to meet him at the
range. I figured you’d be sleeping longer, so I went.”

He didn’t meet her eye.

“I think you’re lying.”

“What?” He’d clearly never had anyone question his moral
integrity before.

“You heard me. Here’s what I think really happened. Your dad
found you and
ordered
you to the shooting range, and you were scared to
say no.”

He suddenly was no longer looming over her. He’d ass-planted
it on the side of the mattress. His head hung in his hands with elbows resting
on his thighs. She sat next to him and rubbed a tentative palm across his
spine. “It’s going to take time, Xander.”

“How did you know?” His voice was muffled.

“How do I know it will take time? I just do.”

“No, I meant, how did you know I didn’t want to go to the
shooting range? I wanted to feed you breakfast in bed.” He turned to face her
and the anguish on his face nearly started up a fresh round of tears, but she
had to stay strong for him. He wasn’t done with his confessions. “Everyone
around here assumes I’m such a hard-ass. That I
like
training every
minute of every day. They call me a cyborg or the Terminator. Like it’s a
fucking compliment.”

She held his gaze and listened. She’d heard him called those
names several times since moving onto the Program campus. Under duress she’d
confess she’d attributed those names to him also, but in her own head only. Her
hand switched to soothing circles all over the cotton on the back of his shirt.

“They don’t know that it’s because of my dad. It’s all
because of my fucking father. He’s made me train since I could crawl, and I’m
sick of it. I’m fucking sick of it and…him.” His voice hitched and she lowered
her gaze, knowing he’d never want her to see him cry. “I’m sick of him,” he
repeated softly, obviously struggling to regain control of his turmoil. His
eyes remained glassy, but no tears fell.

“Xander,” she said softly and reached for his hand. “How did
you get back here?” Now she looked directly at his face. He looked puzzled.

“What do you mean? I put my rifle back and came running
after you.”

“What did your father say when you left him on the shooting
range?”

He blinked. “He told me we weren’t done.”

“And what did you say?”

There was a long pause. “I told him I was coming after you.
And I ran off. I didn’t wait for his response.” His eyes widened. “Shit, he’s
probably fucking pissed.”

“And?”

“And what? He’s going to kill me.”

“How?”

“Why are you acting stupid, Emma? He’s not going to
literally kill me. He’ll yell at me. Or take me on a drive and drop me off
fifty miles from here and make me run home.”

“No, Xander, he won’t.”

“Of course he will.” He scowled. “He does that shit to me
all the time.”

“Not anymore.” She squeezed his hand and held his gaze
steady. “I won’t allow it, and neither will you.” She spoke slowly, trying to
convey the importance of her message. “Honey, I know it’s hard to see because
he’s your father, but he’s no longer in charge of you, and more importantly,
he’s no longer bigger and stronger than you.”

The silence ticked by. “I’m not going to physically fight my
own father,” he said finally.

“No, but you can say no to your father if he asks you to do
something against your wishes. I don’t see how he can force you into anything.
Besides, you’ve already taken the first step on your own.”

“I have?”

“Yes. You walked away from him on the shooting range. That
took bollocks, Xander. I’m proud of you.” She could tell he wasn’t buying any
of this. His father still had a stranglehold on him. “And if he
ever
drives you away from here and tells you to run back, you find a phone and call
me. I’m coming to get you.” That wrung a small smile from him.

“I walked away from him,” he said wonderingly.

“And nothing bad happened.”

He released a cross between a snort and a laugh. “What if
he’s right, though?”

“What do you mean? It’s never right to abuse your kid.”

“What if he’s right about all the training? What if I get
soft? I was able to escape from the basement in Marseille because of his
training. What if I stop following his every order and my job performance
suffers?”

She thought about that one for a minute. It was a good
question. “Do you think Adam or Gavin would’ve been able to escape from the
basement?”

He gave the question a lot of thought while she moved to sit
back on the bed. He remained on the edge but turned to face her. “I don’t know.
Yeah, probably.”

“Then it stands to reason that if you stick to a normal
training regimen, you’ll maintain your edge. Maybe you’ll even improve it if
you’re not always worried about your father’s opinion.”

He crawled up the bed to perch next to her. “Huh. Never
thought about it like that before.”

“Xander, I was never suggesting you become a couch potato
and laze about all day eating bonbons. In fact, I’ve been doing a little
thinking.”

His hand was now tracing her thigh and his gaze was directed
there. “What were you thinking about?” His tenor was deep.

“I’d like to learn a little self-defense. I don’t want to be
a victim ever again.”

He looked up from her thigh. “That’s a good idea.”

“So you’ll teach me?”

He looked surprised. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else would you want teaching me?”

He lay back with his hands cupped under his skull and stared
at the ceiling. “Good point.” His neck shifted a little and he caught her eye.
“Are you going to wear those tight exercise pants? And maybe that bra thing
that doesn’t cover your stomach.”

She started to laugh at how fast he’d transitioned back into
her insatiable boyfriend. “Maybe,” she said in a slow, seductive voice. “Do you
want me to?”

He rolled to his stomach with an elbow on either side of her
thighs. “Hell yes. Now get packing while I go shave this fur off my face and
head.”

She caressed his hairy cheek, sliding up to his scalp. “I
kind of like the facial hair.”

“It’s itchy,” he said.

“Then off it goes. But Xander.” She paused, not wanting to
rock the current calm in the room. “About moving…I think we should wait another
day. Everything’s changing so fast.”

He sat back rapidly on his haunches on the mattress next to
her. “I don’t think so.”

She scooched her butt back to sit straighter. “Xander,
before you were kidnapped you wanted nothing to do with me. Then you got back
and
bam
, you’re ready for marriage.” His face shuttered closed and she
hurried to bring him back. “I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy
in my life, but I’m worried we’re rushing things. I don’t want either of us to
get hurt.”

“Fine. We’ll postpone move-in day.”

She couldn’t see his expression as he climbed off the
mattress and headed for the door. He was
such
a guy. No discussion. No
drawn-out emotionally charged declarations, just a simple “fine”.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He pivoted at the doorway, one hand on the knob. “Back to my
apartment.”

Her heart stuttered for a second as she thought she’d blown
it. He was walking out on her, but then he smiled almost shyly. “I want to
shower and don’t have any clean clothes to change into.”

She relaxed a fraction but her heart pounded at his next
words. “Wanna come with?” He wasn’t backing off. He’d invited her in. Without a
word, she jumped off her bed and grabbed his hand.

“Lead the way.”

They held hands the entire way through the main office
building, out into the chilly weather and into the four-story brick building
that housed all the bachelors. Xander’s apartment was on the second floor.
She’d never been in it before, but she’d walked by enough to know the number
and which window it was from the outside.

He took the stairs at a jog and she clung to his hand to
keep up.

“Sorry,” he said at the landing. “My legs are longer than
yours.”

“S’okay.” She tried to disguise the huffing. One flight of
stairs shouldn’t wear her out. She really needed to start working out with
Xander. He strode down the hall, tugging her along the flat gray carpet.

When he opened the door to his one-room apartment, she
looked around curiously. All the apartments in this building were standard
issue, one room and small bathroom. No kitchen, no lounge. She assumed most of
the other soldiers decorated their rooms in some way to personalize them. Not
Xander.

His was as stark as the day he’d moved in. In one corner
stood a bed a little bigger than a single. It was made, and she’d guess there
were hospital corners creasing the thin itchy-looking gray wool blanket. It
hadn’t been slept in in more than a month. A low wooden bookshelf stood next to
the bed under the window. It served as both a bookshelf and nightstand. And
that was it. The room was clear of anything else. Even the flat gray carpet looked
devoid of personality.

Xander walked to the closet and she saw there was a tall
narrow dresser taking up much of the space, preventing it from being a walk-in.
While he riffled through a few drawers, she got comfortable on the bed. Well,
as comfortable as she could, given the thin blanket was as itchy as it looked.
Her man was not one for luxuries. If he wouldn’t spoil himself, she’d have to
do it for him. First order of business, a soft quilt. There was no way she’d
sleep in this bed as is.

The collection of books on the shelf caught her attention,
and she leaned over to browse the titles. She didn’t take Xander for much of a
fiction reader, so she wasn’t surprised to see the titles of these thick tomes.
Art of War
,
History of Sparta
,
The Spartan Way
,
Ancient
Civilizations
and
Spartan Warrior
were among the titles. Xander was
a history buff with a focus on ancient history, particularly Sparta.
Interesting.

She wondered if he’d ever seen the movie
300
. Likely
not. She’d have to see about renting it for them to watch. Her recollection of
that movie was of a lot of buff shirtless men. She could handle that.

Xander poked his head out of the closet. He held a handful
of clothes. “Ready?”

“I thought you were going to shower.”

He glanced to the bathroom on his right. “I didn’t want to
make you sit around here and wait.”

Her lips compressed, holding back a smile. “I had no
intention of waiting. I’m going to join you,” she said when he looked puzzled.

A slow smile spread across his lips. “I’ve never showered
with a woman.”

“I know. Another first for today.”

He glanced at his bathroom again. “My shower’s kind of
small. Maybe we should go back to your place.”

“Xander, I’m sure our showers are the same size. Program
building design, right? It means we’ll have to stand very, very close.” As she
spoke, she stood and toed off her shoes. Her shirt came next, then her
trousers. She stood in front of him clad only in her panties and bra. He
remained still, clutching an armful of clothes. “Honey?” She raised an eyebrow.

He flung the clothes across the room, all of them landing in
a messy heap on the bed. Then he started tearing his own clothing off. When he
was down to his underwear, she took her own off and led the way to the
bathroom. He’d been right. It was tiny.

Her rear brushed against his body repeatedly as they
squeezed into the tiny room and tried not to trip over the toilet. When she
reached to turn on the shower, he squeezed by her. “Let me. The handle is a
little loose. I’ve been meaning to fix it, but…”

Before he could wallow in the reasons he hadn’t had time to
fix his shower, she tried to distract him. “Since you won’t be here much
longer, you can leave it for the next occupant.”