Bo knew then and there that he was talking to both sides of her nature, talking to her. No shields. No walls. “You are the most complex, beautiful, extraordinary woman I have ever met.”
* * *
• • •
A BEAM of simulated sunlight kissed the side of Bowen’s face as he spoke, highlighting a small blue stain on his temple . . . and a cold blade of fear thrust itself through Kaia’s heart. “Attie’s been running tests.” She knew the exact device that left that mark—the mark itself was nothing, just a dot of ink to help position the device, but it told a story.
Bowen’s smile faded. “Second injection’s tomorrow.”
Sucking in a breath, Kaia tightened her abdomen. “You’re about to get your head cut open and you just got out of a coma.” It took vicious self-control to keep her tone dry. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t take your declarations about my beauteous presence seriously.”
He locked his hand around her wrist. “You know this isn’t anything ordinary.” There it was, the dominance that hummed under his skin. “You know.”
Slipping out of his grasp when a ball splashed in between them, distracting him for a split second, Kaia made for the side and got out of the pool. Once in the shower in the changing area, she pressed her palms to the tiled wall and tried to breathe, tried not to think of hospital rooms and bodies wrapped in biodegradable shrouds being sent into the black from whence they’d come.
“Stop, stop, stop.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the cascade of memory and pretended the hot water that trickled down her cheeks all came from the showerhead. Even when it tasted of salt and a child’s anguish.
She spent too long under the water.
Afterward, she rubbed herself dry using one of the towels provided, then pulled on her cover-up over bare skin. She’d brought underwear in her tote, but her other self was very much at the surface of her mind and it didn’t agree with the concept of clothes. The cover-up was about as far as it was willing to go.
Black and shapeless and reaching to just below midthigh, the cover-up wouldn’t scandalize even Bebe. For a turtle rumored to have thrown primal orgies in her youth, Bebe could be a definite prude. But Kaia loved her with all her heart. Bebe’s wrinkled arms had cuddled a heartbroken Kaia so many times after the deaths of her mama and papa.
Kaia had been able to grieve on Bebe’s little island when she couldn’t anywhere else. She’d often fallen asleep curled against Bebe’s shell, the sun beating down on them and the sand gritty under her naked body.
Since she’d forgotten to put a comb in her tote, she twisted her hair into a rough bun. Then she rinsed out her swimsuit and hung it to dry on one of the lines provided for that. She’d pick it up tomorrow or a clanmate would grab it for her while retrieving their own gear.
The towel went in the large basket nearby; it was another station team’s job to handle laundry, as Kaia and her team took care of Ryūjin’s food needs.
A well-run station needed everyone to do their part.
Unable to delay any longer, she stepped out, her heart searching for the man who was going to ruin her. He sat on a poolside bench created of stone, watching the teenagers in the water. She could tell he hadn’t showered, just pulled on his shirt over damp board shorts that exposed thighs in far too good a shape for a man who’d been in a coma.
Kaia, whispered the alone, sad, lost part of her soul, he’s about to have a second dose of a test compound injected into his brain. The clock is ticking faster and faster.
Despite the desperate warning, Kaia’s fingers itched to weave through his heavily damp hair as she came to stand beside him. The other part of her nature wasn’t always in agreement with the human side of her—and it loved playing with Bowen—but it didn’t fight her this time when she curled her fingers into a white-knuckled fist.
It, too, bore scars of grief that would never fade.
It, too, watched for Hugo to swim back into the habitat.
It, too, swam silently through waters she’d first explored with her parents, their bigger bodies keeping her safe.
And it, too, knew that falling for Bowen Knight was a terrible, terrible mistake.
“They’re fast, except for Scott,” Bowen said, his tone thoughtful. “But even with the gammy leg, he has more endurance.”
Even though she really needed to get to the kitchen, Kaia stayed and watched the children. “Scott’s also the most patient of the lot.” He was the one she trusted to watch dishes that needed a careful eye. “He never rushes.”
Bowen nodded and pulled on his trainers. “The others zig and zag and dive and jump, but he thinks about every move. He’s the one who’ll catch you one day.”
“No, he doesn’t have the speed.” And Kaia was nearly as fast as Edison. “But, if the others listen to him, he could use them to catch me.”
“You’re right. The kid will make an excellent security chief one day.” His gaze, when it turned to her, was primal in its intensity. “I’m not about to give up, Kaia.”
The soft promise raised every tiny hair on her body.
“You can’t control the universe,” she said, her eyes on the tendrils drying against his forehead, one kissing the dot of blue.
“I won’t know until I try.” He rose to his feet on that uncompromising statement.
Throat dry, Kaia led him out of the pool area. It was as they were crossing the final connecting bridge that the heavy mass of her hair unraveled from her bun to slam onto her back. “Damn it. I’ll have to spend ten minutes brushing and drying this before I can head into the kitchen.” It wouldn’t totally dry that quickly even under her high-strength dryer, but she could manage enough that she could scrape it back and out of her way.
It would be more practical if she just cut it, but Kaia had her vanities.
And her father had loved her hair. The same hair as her mother.
When they’d lived on the island, she’d used to sneak out of bed at night sometimes and peek out onto the sea-facing porch to see her parents sitting there, laughing and talking. Often, her father would have a brush and he’d be running it through her mother’s long hair, detangling and smoothing and loving.
“I could brush it for you,” Bowen offered.
Kaia’s heart skidded, today and yesterday colliding, a crash that was an earthquake.
Chapter 29
Love can alter the fabric of the universe, my heart.
—Iosef Luna to his only daughter, Kaia (4)
KAIA KNEW EXACTLY what she should do: walk away right this moment. Bowen Knight might be a man of honor according to every instinct she possessed, but he was still going to wound her unbearably.
Be safe, Kaia, whispered the scared child inside her. Push him away.
But the thing was, whether she did or not, Bowen’s path was set. The compound would be injected into his brain twice more and the dice would be rolled. The five percent chance wouldn’t alter whether or not she surrendered to the craving low in her body, the ache deep in her heart.
All that would change was her level of pain.
She slipped her hand into his and closed her fingers around his palm.
His own fingers wrapping warm and strong over hers, he walked with her in silence. She saw more than one pair of eyes widen at the sight of their linked hands, several mouths purse tight, but no one called out and none of those Hugo had trusted with his thoughts attempted to get in her way.
She opaqued the window into the black the instant they were in the privacy of her room, then went and sat down in the chair in front of the white writing desk with curved legs that also functioned as her vanity. Pulling open one small desk drawer, she got out a brush and a jar of leave-in deep conditioning treatment.
The mirror she’d mounted on the opposite wall, its silvery surface surrounded by white curlicues, reflected back her stark eyes. But behind her, Bowen’s face as he lifted up her hair to run it through his fingers, it held devotion.
Her hands fisted on her thighs.
She wanted to disbelieve what she saw, wanted to tell herself it was all happening too fast to be real. Hugo would be horrified; he’d probably say Bowen had created an illusion and Kaia had fallen for it. But Kaia knew. The creature inside her skin knew. Bowen Knight was no black villain and this was a beautiful and terrifying and once-in-a-lifetime thing.
Not a thing you chose. A thing that chose you.
Unable to look that truth too deeply in the eye, she opened the jar. “Work this through my hair,” she said in a husky voice. “It’ll make it easier to smooth out the tangles.”
Bowen began the task, his every action intent. It made her want to smile. She had the foolish thought that he’d probably build a crib or plan a family outing with that same military attention to detail.
She let the thought pass before it could lodge in her throat and, picking up the phone she’d left on one side of the writing desk, sent a message through to her scheduled kitchen team. “Tacos for dinner,” she told Bo afterward, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. “My crew can handle that on their own.” Kaia always taught each team one dish they could create from scratch and without her oversight.
Bo’s hand paused in the act of working in the conditioner. “We have time, then.”
Such an paradoxical statement. “Yes,” she said. “Today, we have time.”
The familiar scent of coconut oil fused with tiare flowers rose into the air as Bowen continued to work the conditioner into her hair, and in her mind ran the ghost of a sand-covered little girl kissed by tropical sunlight. She watched him in the mirror, watched the fierce concentration with which he did the task and thought she could become very used to being the nucleus of Bowen Knight’s attention.
The security chief of the Human Alliance would have endless calls on his time, of that she had no doubt. But Kaia also knew that were she his, she’d have direct access to him anytime she wished. Bowen Knight wasn’t the kind of man to push aside his promises or discount the bonds he’d forged: he would love with the same intense concentration he did everything else.