Legend of Michael (23 page)

It was Michael who broke the silence, sliding to the edge of the bed, still buried inside her. Before he stood up, he brushed his lips over her. “Bath and then sleep for you.”

“Only if you come to bed with me,” she negotiated.

“I’m not going anywhere.” The words rasped across his lips in a hoarse whisper full of torment that seemed to say—not now, but later—later he would leave.

Cassandra clung to him as he carried her to the bathroom. It was true, she’d been afraid of being alone. She’d admitted that to herself. Tonight though, she realized something. She needed and wanted Michael in her life, but he had to want to be there. No Lifebond, no physical connection, would change what was messing with his head. Nor would it bind them together in the most important way—the emotional one.

Michael had to make the choice to allow her inside his life. It could be no other way. Either he gave himself to her all the way or not at all. She might not like being alone, but now that she’d faced that fear, she was prepared to deal with it. What Cassandra wasn’t willing to live with was wondering when Michael would decide he was too dangerous for her, or too duty bound, and leave again.

***

Michael rested against one end of the claw-foot-style bathtub with Cassandra opposite him, and he stared into her black eyes. God. What had he done? What if they’d fully bonded, and it was irreversible? They didn’t even have his blood work back. He had no idea what it would show. He’d been selfish, desperate for the woman he loved.

Cassandra sank lower into the deep tub, her long, blond hair floating on top of the surface. “This is a little piece of heaven on earth.”

“Your eyes are black.”

Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks, dark circles against pale skin, and then lifted again. “I assumed as much.”

Being with her again made him remember why he’d thought he could be a different man when he was with her, how she made him
want
to be a better man. How she found softness in him where he thought there was only steel.

It was clear the GTECH injections enhanced what was there in each man—turned those dark into something much darker. That he’d managed to avoid becoming like Adam was nothing short of a miracle. That he’d gained lethal abilities no man should possess with that kind of darkness inside him shook him to the core. Shook him because he was still changing, still growing stronger. When would the changes push him over the edge? And would he take Cassandra with him?

Concern building, he asked, “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. Tired. A bit nauseous, but who wouldn’t be with hardly any sleep?” She lifted her hand and let water and bubbles drip from her fingers. “I still can’t believe you had bubble bath,” Cassandra teased. “Bubbles defy the entire roughneck soldier image you wear so well, in case you didn’t read that page in my father’s macho soldier handbook.” Her smile wavered a bit, as if it hurt to say his name or compare the two of them.

Michael lifted her foot, her pretty, pink-painted toes poking out of the water as he gently massaged. She moaned instantly, and he smiled inside. She’d always been a sucker for a good foot rub, and he’d been a sucker for those cute faces she made when he gave her one. “Caleb put one of the nurses in charge of the comfort of the soldiers,” he explained. “Emma stocked everything she considered to be the basic necessities in every room, regardless of sex.”

Cassandra laughed. “I like this Emma already. Bubbles as a necessity.” She moaned a little as he massaged. “You’re very good at that.” She grinned. “And a great many other things as well.”

“Careful,” he warned, his cock pulsing with the suggestive tug of her voice. “Or I’ll be tempted to come over there and show you a few of those things. And we both know you have to get some sleep.” She needed rest. He needed her, but her needs came first.

“Sleep is overrated,” she said dismissively and changed the subject, her expression growing solemn. “What are you going to do about your mother?”

He reached for her and pulled her close to his side, under his arm. She was so tiny that she fit beside him easily inside the tub. “I’ll destroy her company and strip them of their ability to help Zodius.”

Several heavy seconds of silence hung in the air before she whispered, “Tell me what happened tonight.”

He drew a deep breath and realized how much he wanted to tell her, even needed to tell her. Though he excluded the parts about her father, the words came easily, rolling from his lips with the relief of a summer breeze rather than the discomfort of a forced wind. She already knew bits and pieces of how he felt about his mother, knew how his mother had shunned him for turning away from the family, from his father. About their long silence. But what Cassandra didn’t know was what he hadn’t admitted to himself until tonight—how much that silence ate him alive. It had not been until he stood in that kitchen and discovered that he couldn’t justify his mother’s actions as just those of a misguided housewife anymore, and that realization had ripped him into pieces.

The water was chilly by the time they stood up and turned on the shower to wash off. Michael turned Cassandra away from him, wrapped his arm around her waist, slipped her wet hair away from her neck, and kissed the mark that linked her to him. For a few moments, he let himself believe he could have all of her, tugging her closer, holding her snuggly against his body. The water sprayed them with peaceful warmth, and Michael squeezed his eyes shut, pretending that tomorrow would be as perfect as this moment and knowing it would not.

Chapter 22

A loud pounding sound permeated the haze of Cassandra’s sleep, followed by the jabbing pain in her stomach. Oh God. She blinked awake and quickly squeezed her eyes shut against the agonizing glare of light. Not even natural light. More pounding. She held her head and forced herself to a sitting position, holding the sheet over her naked body.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in the black fatigues she was coming to know as standard Renegade attire. “You might want to put this on,” he said, offering her an oversized blue robe. “Sterling is here to help you scramble that call to your father.”

“A robe, courtesy of Emma?” she asked, accepting it. “Because I know you prefer
au naturel
.” She attempted a smile, but her eyes pinched, and it turned into a grimace. “And I like
au naturel
.”

“Emma is responsible for the robe,” he agreed, planting a solid kiss on her lips, warm and sensual. A little sound of pleasure rumbled from her throat of its own accord as he added, “And yes, I do
prefer au naturel
… with you.” His mood shifted, darkened. Angst etched the hard lines of his face. “Your eyes are still black.”

Her hand curled on his chest. “And I’m sick again, but every second I’m awake it eases up a little.” She hoped. Another knock on the door burst through her brain. Okay, maybe she wasn’t better. “Please make him stop that incessant knocking.” It was killing her head.

She shoved her arms into the robe, and his gaze swept her bare chest, but he didn’t touch her. He wanted to, though—it was in the raw sexuality that settled deep in his eyes. Suddenly, he pulled her close again, his lips slanting over hers in a deep, passionate kiss that left her breathless and panting as he pushed to his feet and sauntered toward the door. There was a message in that kiss she frantically tried to decipher, but there wasn’t time. He was already at the door, already opening it. Cassandra tied the robe at her waist and scooted to the edge of the bed.

In an instant the room was abuzz with activity as Sterling and Kelly overtook the small space. Michael and Caleb stepped into the hallway, and Cassandra couldn’t help but wonder what they were discussing.

“I have coffee,” Kelly said, floating through the room in a blossom of jasmine-scented perfume, black pants peeking from beneath her lab coat. “And clothes that probably aren’t going to fit well, but they’re better than nothing.” She held up a small bag with handles. “Emma sent a care package of various toiletries.”

“I really need to meet this Emma,” Cassandra said. “She sounds like everyone’s mother.”

“Where’s
my
coffee?” Sterling asked, stomping to a halt behind Kelly, looking as good as new in his military garb, a computer case over his shoulder. He gave her a salute. “Thanks for hanging out, bedside, last night.”

“I’d say, anytime,” Cassandra replied, “but let’s not make a habit of hospital visits.”

“And no, to the coffee for you, Sterling,” Kelly replied, dropping the bag on the floor and then sitting next to Cassandra. Offering her the paper cup of coffee, Kelly cast Sterling a stern look. “You’re barely off the IV.”

“GTECH, sweetheart.” He set the case down on the coffee table and sat down. “I’ve been off that IV for hours already.”

“That’s Doc to you, not sweetheart.” She cut her attention back to Cassandra, holding up a finger. “One hour off the IV. He thinks he’s Superman. At least Damion is taking it easy this morning. He’s still resting.”

Michael and Caleb returned to the room, the testosterone level in the small space skyrocketing off the charts. They stopped at the edge of the living room, standing side-by-side. Tall, dominant men. Leaders.

“
He’s
your Superman,” Sterling said, inclining his chin at Caleb, and then he lowered his voice as he glanced at Michael. “And the Dark One, Batman.”

Cassandra laughed, feeling a little better thankfully, though she discreetly put the coffee cup on the nightstand by the bed. Coffee and her stomach, not so good. Sterling’s observations, terrific. “I can so see that,” she said, her attention snagging Michael’s, a silent message in her eyes that the comparison, silly as it might be, seemed so true—he was Batman. He was the one you went to when no one else wanted to get their hands dirty.

Caleb broke through their line of sight, claiming the recliner next to the couch. “That makes Sterling, Robin, the Boy Wonder.” His mood was light, but a vibe of tension crackled around him. Around Michael, too, Cassandra realized.

Kelly produced two syringes. “The first is to calm the side effects,” she said softly. “And I want to take more blood.” She tilted Cassandra’s chin and inspected her. “Now, while your eyes are black. The sooner, the better. Then I’ll need to take samples every couple of hours.”

Sterling punched a few keys on his computer. “Boy Wonder needs a few minutes to get set up, so feel free to poke and prod Cassandra. I’m happy that the
doctor’s
attention is diverted elsewhere.”

Cassandra glanced at the clock. It was eight. “As long as I call him in the next hour,” she said. “I’d really like to get dressed, if that’s okay?”

“We have some things to discuss, anyway,” Caleb said. “Do what you ladies need to do.”

“Why don’t we go in the bathroom and give them some guy time,” Kelly suggested.

Cassandra hugged the robe around herself. “Yes, let’s.” Michael’s eyes touched Cassandra’s, dark with concern; remotely, she was aware of Caleb watching them.

“Any results on her blood work?” Michael asked Kelly.

Cassandra took advantage of the shift in attention to inspect Caleb, finding his expression indecipherable, his elbows settled on his knees.

“I’m not prepared to make any conclusions at this point,” Kelly replied and then cast him a “dare you to challenge me” look. She grabbed the bag she’d brought with her and motioned Cassandra to the bathroom.

Cassandra could barely contain her chuckle as she sat down on the toilet cover. “You sure shut him down.”

Kelly shut the door and set the bag down, her hands going to her hips. “I’ve learned to hold my own. They were a demanding bunch as soldiers. And now as GTECHs—they’re like soldiers on rocket fuel, ten times more intense.”

“
Do you
know anything yet, Kelly?” she prodded, steeling herself for the answer.

“You’re ovulating. You’re low on vitamin C,” she said, tapping a syringe. “Which is why I’m giving you a supplement along with the nausea medicine.” She glanced at Cassandra’s arm. “Roll your sleeve up.”

Peeling her sleeve up, Cassandra asked, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing yet,” she said, leaning over her and injecting the vitamin C. She set the injection aside and reached for the syringe. “None of the more advanced testing is ready. And I need to compare today’s samples to last night’s.” Minutes later, she finished up. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” She sighed. “Now, to talk Michael into giving me more blood. Then maybe I can convince him he’s not a monster about to turn you into one.”

Somehow, Cassandra doubted that a blood test would convince Michael he wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t sure anything would.

***

Michael stared at the tube that hung from the needle in his arm, holding his breath as he had the night before, waiting for the liquid to appear. Letting out a silent “thank you” when it appeared red—not green, not blue, not anything but normal-looking red. Because it really wasn’t normal, not even by GTECH standards. Kelly already knew that, too; he’d seen it in her face when she’d sat down next to him.

With Caleb and Sterling sitting a few feet away in low conversation, Michael lowered his voice to a murmur. “What did you tell Cassandra?”

Kelly’s lashes lifted, her green eyes alight with a knowing look that confirmed she’d already seen something in his testing that he wasn’t going to like. “Nothing
yet
,” she replied, a clear warning in her voice. “Come see me when you get done here to talk about your test results.”

Michael’s gut clenched in a tight ball of dread. His blood work showing abnormality wasn’t unexpected, by him or probably anyone else. He’d known it was selfish to touch Cassandra last night, to touch her period without the outcome of that blood work, without knowing what he might be doing to her—but still he’d touched her, still he’d buried himself deep inside her and enjoyed every last second of her.

Kelly pushed to her feet. “See you gentlemen later.” She glanced at Michael. “See you soon.” She didn’t wait for his reply and hurried to the door in a wisp of white cotton before disappearing outside.

Sterling fixed Michael in a gaping stare.

“What?” Michael demanded gruffly, leaning one elbow on his knee, not in the mood for any crap from Sterling. That Caleb and Sterling had been channeling an edgy vibe from the moment they’d shown up didn’t help.

“You gave blood,” Sterling said, an astute gleam in his eyes.

“Really not in the mood to discuss my medical history with you, Sterling,” Michael ground out. He cut a look between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

Caleb and Sterling exchanged a meaningful look of their own, tension crackling in the air. With a go-ahead nod from Caleb, Sterling responded, “I checked out both hard drives, Brock West’s and your mother’s. Not a single reference to Red Dart. And I can’t get into Taylor’s servers without you getting me into the facility.”

“We might as well take a full team in and be ready to sweep the place then,” he said. “The sooner the better.”

“Tonight,” Caleb said.

“Today,” Michael said. “Broad daylight before my mother has time to remove any evidence.”

“I’m not sure that’s a risk worth taking,” Caleb said.

“And why is that?”

The two of them eyed each other again, and Michael grumbled irritably. “Cut the dramatic pauses. What the hell is up?”

Sterling replied, “West manipulated and rerouted outgoing weapons shipments from the base to include Green Hornets, and those shipments never made it to their destination. I see no evidence that your mother sold them to Adam. Your mother may well be innocent.”

“Which means any probe of Taylor Industries should include discretion,” Caleb inserted.

Michael sat there a minute before a bark of bitter laughter escaped his lips. “Holy shit.” He scrubbed his clean-shaven jaw and let out a rough, second cackle of laughter. “This is what you two are walking on eggshells over? You think I’m going to have some emotional seizure over my mother, and you think I need my hand held? My mother is
not
innocent. If she’s not helping Adam, she’s helping Powell.” His attention slid to Caleb. “I told you that last night.”

“Maybe you were mistaken about last night,” Caleb offered.

“Powell was there,” Michael insisted.

“There’s nothing wrong with selling weapons to the U.S. government for national security,” Caleb reminded him. “We have no proof she believes she is doing anything but that.”

Always one to offer the benefit of the doubt—that was Caleb. “Stop trying to save me,” Michael said. “I don’t need saving. She is what she is, and I know better than anyone what that is. And if you want proof, I’ll give it to you. We have a stock of Green Hornets now. Leave Powell’s supply where it is, and hook a satellite to the location. I guarantee you, now that my mother knows I know about them, they’ll be moved because she’s doing more than selling to Powell. She’s in bed with him in every possible way.”

The bathroom door swung open, and Cassandra appeared in the crest of fluorescent light, her skin pale against the black T-shirt she wore with loose-fitted, black jeans. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her eyes still black and shining like opals. Possessiveness rushed through him, arousing him with an unexpected jolt of pure, white-hot lust. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t touch her today, that he would wait for results on the blood test. How did you not do something as essential as breathing? Because that was what touching Cassandra was to him. How had he survived the years without her?

“I heard you talking through the door,” she announced, before hesitating and then casting Michael a tormented look, the rest of the room fading as she spoke to him and him alone. “If my father has involved your mother in this, he’s manipulating her.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “He knows everything about every soldier he involved in Project Zodius. He certainly knows everything about you. Your family owns a weapons manufacturing company that supplies the government. Of course, he knew that when he recruited you. And he knew who your mother was then, and certainly now. There is no coincidence here. I have no doubt that being with your mother is icing on the cake—a message. You were in his world, with his daughter, holding a blade at his throat. Now, he’s holding a proverbial blade at your throat. He has your world in his hands. He has control, not you.” She drew a shuddered breath and let it out. “I’m done convincing myself he’s not the man who would do such a thing. I’ve tried to justify all of his actions, and I won’t do it anymore. And I’m sorry for what he is doing to you and your mother.”

Michael’s heart froze for a moment before skipping into an angry charge. Damn Powell for what he’d put his daughter through. What he’d put all of them through. “Do not apologize for either your father or my mother,” he ordered Cassandra. And it was an order. A fierce, guttural command. He would not let her do this to herself. And he would not let his mother ride under the radar. “We need to operate on the assumption that there is no manipulation of my mother. She knows what she is involved with.”