Amorous Overnight (12 page)

After his workout, he might make use of the probe too so that he had all his wits about him in the arena. It wouldn’t do to spook the ensign or betray the intimate nature of their relationship to any warriors who happened to be in attendance.

“Minister Cecine, Shelley Bonham seeks an audience with you.”

Frowning, he slowed to a walk. “End program, Empran, and direct her to come to my quarters in ten minutes.”

“Affirmative.”

The flare field vanished and he leapt off the aerobic platform. Slinging his towel around his neck, he picked up his hydration bottle and drained it before exiting the Command training center. When he strode through the door, he nearly collided with Shelley Bonham.

She reeled back with a squeak and would have fallen if he hadn’t seized her flailing arm to yank her upright. Pulling away at once, she stood there gawking at him and rubbing the spot on her bare arm where he’d touched her.

“Ms. Bonham,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I beg your pardon. I’d intended to shower and dress before greeting you.”

Her mouth still slightly ajar, she nodded at him, her eyes flickering up and down between his face and his bare chest, which was still dripping with sweat. Amused, he grabbed the towel and mopped off his face and neck while her gaze ventured all the way down to his bare feet and back up.

“You’re welcome to wait in my sitting area while I make myself more presentable,” he invited, gesturing down the curving corridor.

The rosy hue in her cheeks deepened to a splotchy red. “No! I mean, that’s okay, I…”

Her eyes slid down to his chest again as if drawn by a powerful magnet and Cecine bit the inner skin of his lower lip to keep from grinning. If he’d known she would react this strongly to the sight of his body, he’d have made it a point to accidentally intrude on one of her private sessions in the Ccommand training center weeks ago.

Then the tip of her little pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Swearing silently, he closed his eyes for a moment and tried to stem the rush of arousal. Peserin, did she truly have no idea what the sight of a wet, healthy tongue did to a horny male?

When he opened them, her gaze had drifted below his waist once more.

So much for stemming the arousal. Against his will, hot blood pounded through his already overwarm body, tightening every muscle and thickening his cock.

He subdued a growl of frustration. As her mate, he had every right to grab her by her lacy tail of yellow hair, claim her pretty tongue and lush pink rosebud lips with his mouth and then pull down his exercise brief and claim them again with his cock. If she had any idea of the restraint he was exercising at the moment, she’d run all the way to her quarters without looking back.

Fortunately for her, his brief constricted all movement of his privates, so the discomfort was all his.

“Ms. Bonham,” he said abruptly, making her jump. “Do you wish to stand here or accompany me to my quarters?”

“Neither, sorry.” She suddenly looked devastated. “Oh God, my mom…”

“What’s happened?” he asked as gently as he could.

“She has ovarian cancer, and it’s already metastasized.” Her face crumpled for an instant and then she took a shuddering breath. “I have to go home, Minister. I have to. I’m a nurse, and I need to take care of her and advocate for her and—and just hold her and help her get through this.”

She bit her lips into a flat line as tears rolled down her cheeks and Cecine’s chest went tight at the silent appeal in her blue eyes. Peserin’s hell, it was as though the Powers were determined to take away what they’d given him before he’d really even had it.

“Come with me,” he said, laying a hand on her fragile shoulder to shepherd her down the corridor. “Empran, assign a replacement guard for Ensign Hastion and send him to my quarters at once.”

“Affirmative.”

He’d just settled Shelley on the sofa in his sitting area when the ensign arrived. His blank expression gave way to puzzlement and then concern when he saw her.

“Her mother appears to be critically ill,” Cecine informed him. “Tend to her while I bathe and dress, and then we’ll flare down and investigate.”

“Aye, sir.”

When he sat next to her and laid his hand on her back, Shelley’s face crumpled again. “Oh, Hastion…”

Pulling her against his side, the ensign wrapped both arms around her and rubbed his jaw against her crown, quietly murmuring reassurances as she sobbed.

Cecine hesitated. Why in Peserin’s name did the sight of her leaning so trustingly into the ensign’s embrace annoy him? That was one of the reasons he’d selected Hastion as second, Shelley’s ease with him.

“I’ve got her, sir,”
Hastion sent with a steady look.
“You can go ahead.”

Turning abruptly, Cecine made his way to his bathing area to rinse off, opening another cerecom link as he walked.
“Dr. Ketrok, tell me what you know about ovarian cancer and what we can do about it.”

Shelley had no idea how long she sat there and cried, cocooned in Hastion’s strong arms. When she realized her nose was running all over his uniform, he dismissed her concerns and produced a box of tissue out of thin air, compliments of Empran.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“You know I understand only too well, Shelley,” Hastion said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you. In case you didn’t notice, I’m slightly freaked.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “It’s my pleasure.”

Shelley’s heartbeat went haywire and she stared at him. He stared back.

Minister Cecine chose that moment to walk back in. Though he was in full uniform, he’d left off the robe and his damp hair was tied back.

“Ms. Bonham, I believe it’s time you got over your aversion to flaring and visited your parents.”

She gaped at him. “You mean
now
?”

“Unless you can suggest a better time. I’ve obtained special dispensation from the White House to flare you directly to their home instead of a designated flare point.”

She hopped down from the couch. “I’m over it. Can I bring the twins?”

“Your nannies have already been instructed to meet us on the Transport Deck.”

Hope and excitement bloomed in Shelley’s chest. “I don’t know how to thank you, Minister.”

“No thanks are necessary.”

When Tara and Janelle asked to accompany them to the surface, Minister Cecine gave a nod. “That would be wise.”

Shelley was surprised when Dr. Ketrok walked into the flare transport area, carrying what looked like a metal briefcase. Her heart started to beat faster. Did he have something to help her mother?

“Doctor,” Cecine acknowledged. “Are you prepared to join us?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

They all stepped up onto the flare platform and the minister nodded at Pony Boy. Shelley held her breath and then cringed when they were enveloped in a flare field. It was silly, she knew, but she just couldn’t get her head around the concept of being shot from the ship to the surface in a big energy bubble.

When they emerged in her parents’ living room a few seconds later, her mother let out a shriek of surprise and just about fell off her desk chair.

“Oops, sorry,” Shelley said. “Guess we should have called first.”

“Shelley!” Her mom rushed over and threw her arms around her, rocking her and squeezing her so tightly she could hardly breathe. Closing her eyes, her throat aching with another flood of unshed tears, Shelley soaked up the comfort that was her mother’s embrace.

When they’d hugged the edge off, her mom’s hold eased. “Mike! Alex! Shelley is here!” Then she squealed. “Ooh, and my grandbabies!”

She made a beeline for the twins, holding out both arms, and the girls handed them over one at a time. The twins stared and Kallie sucked her thumb as their grandma talked to them and kissed their rosy cheeks. Shelley’s eyes watered again. Of course her mother accepted them unconditionally. She hoped her father would do the same, but braced herself for the worst. After all, he was the one who’d dragged her to that Terrans Against Interspecies Mating rally where she’d met Mark.

Crap, she should have warned everyone. Her father was likely to blow a gasket when he saw three huge Garathani warriors in his living room.

“Minister, I think I should warn you that my father might react badly to your presence here.”

The minister’s expression didn’t change. “I’m aware of your father’s views about our mission on Earth.”

“Oh dear.” Her mother suddenly looked nervous. Quickly loading the babies back into the nannies’ arms, she said, “Girls, why don’t you come with me to the den. You and the babies can watch TV until we’re sure Shelley’s father isn’t going to be a problem.”

“No worries,” Janelle said as they followed her out.

Then Shelley’s eighteen-year-old brother came in through the kitchen door, wearing cutoffs, sneakers and the tattered remnants of an old red T-shirt, and drying his hands on a towel, and her eyes just about fell out of her head. “Alex?”

“’Sup, Shell?” he asked with a smug grin. Tossing the towel onto the dining table, he picked her up and hugged her until she pushed at his shoulders, laughing and gasping for air.

“When did you turn into the Incredible Hulk?” she demanded. The last time she’d seen him, he was tall—relative to her anyway—and painfully thin. He was still about five-eight, probably the same height as her dad, but now muscled brown arms and shoulders bulged from his torn-out arm holes.

He shrugged, still grinning at her from under the fringe of his shaggy blond curls. “Been lifting a lot.”

She looked him up and down. “Of what? Cars?”

“Girls. Cars are next.”

Shelley laughed. “That’s right, you’re a chick magnet now, aren’t you? Mom said—”

“Where’s my Shelley-Belle, and who stole the damn hand towel?” Her father came in through the kitchen door, wiping his hands on his jeans. He stopped cold at the sight of the Garathani. “What the hell?”

“Dad, it’s okay. They’re with me,” Shelley said as calmly as she could. God, this might be worse than she thought.

“Get out of my living room,” he growled, taking an aggressive step toward the minister.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Jeez, chill out, Dad.”

“You leave my family alone. Just go away. We aren’t hurting anybody.”

Her mom hurried back into the living room. “Mike, please calm down. They’re friends of Shelley’s. They brought her and the grandbabies down to see us.”

Her father didn’t take his eyes off the minister. “Rose, get Alex and Shelley out of the house. Now.”

“Mr. Southern,” the minister said, “Dr. Ketrok is here to cure your wife of the disease threatening her life.”

That got her father’s attention. “Cure her how?” he asked sharply.

Dr. Ketrok stepped forward. “Our scientists isolated the genetic defects and processes responsible for the disorder you call cancer many centuries ago when it occurred in our people. I’ll simply scan Mrs. Southern to verify her specific mutations and infections, and then return to the ship to formulate a vaccine for her.”

Excitement blossomed in Shelley’s chest. “How long will it take?”

“The scan should be complete in just a moment, and I’ll have the necessary components for her treatment within a quarter hour. Once I apply the infusion button, the abnormal cells should die off within twenty-four hours. Empran is scanning the rest of your family as well so that I may repair any pathogenic gene mutations before they initiate disease processes.”

“Cancer-causing mutations?” she asked.

Ketrok looked surprised. “All pathogenic mutations, of course. What would be the point of repairing just one variety?”

“Gene therapy is a routine part of our health maintenance, Ms. Bonham,” Cecine told her. “After your delivery, you were scanned and relieved of a number of potentially deadly mutations, as were the twins.”

Shelley could only gape at him again.

“Rose will be cured permanently?” Her father wore an expression she knew all too well—he was afraid to believe. Afraid to even hope.

Ketrok nodded curtly. “Yes. She will have no recurrence of cancer of any kind.”

Her mother reached for her and Alex. “I can’t believe this is real!” she said as she hugged them both tightly.

Then Ketrok frowned. “Mr. Southern, are you aware there is a disease process causing plaques to form in your brain?”

Shelley’s heart stopped. “He has Alzheimer’s? But he’s barely fifty.”

“My mother had early-onset Alzheimer’s.” Her father reached behind him as his face went gray at the memory and Shelley helped him sit on the couch. She was only a sophomore in high school when Grandma Southern died, but she would never forget the devastation her dementia had wrought and how desperately in need of help and comfort her grandfather had been. It was one of the reasons she’d become a nurse.

“Can you help him?” she asked with tears in her eyes. He was too young for this—there wasn’t even any gray in his light-brown hair yet.