Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (29 page)

She was mortified at the sudden tears that filled her eyes and tried to blink them away. She righted herself, took a deep breath. “I love you,” she said.

Shock flashed in his eyes. “Marla—”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “No. Don’t say anything. Take those words and know that someone really cares about you. Maybe it will get you through rough times.”

He watched her as she fumbled with the crutches and took a step back. “Marla . . . I wish—” He gave a small shake of his head. “I hope you’ll start living life again. Get out and have fun. Find yourself a great guy who can fully appreciate you.”

“Sure,” she said, keeping her tone light, although her heart felt like it was shattering. “I’ll do that. You take care, okay?”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he simply nodded. “You, too. Have a safe trip back.”

She stared at him a moment longer.
Good-bye, Luke
.

Then, before she did something really embarrassing, like breaking down and sobbing, she turned and maneuvered her way into the corridor and toward the elevator. She was able to hold back more tears until she was alone in the elevator.

Maybe the heartache would distract her from the post-traumatic stress disorder. She’d already been there, done that, anyway. But of the two, the pain she now felt in her heart was far, far worse.

 

 

JULIA groaned when she saw Adam standing at the departure gate for their Southwest flight to Houston. “What are you doing here?” She glanced back at the security barricades, then at him. “And how did you get through security without a ticket?”

He gave her his arched brow “how-do-you-think?” look, and she muttered, “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Then I’d be an accomplice.”

“I told you I’d take you to the airport.”

“And I told you we didn’t need a ride. The hotel shuttle was just fine.”

“Even though you and Marla had to climb steps to get inside? She has a lot of stitches.”

Julia felt a surge of guilt. In her haste to get away from Adam’s annoying presence, she hadn’t considered Marla’s condition until she saw her struggling to get into the van. Then she’d felt terrible.

Marla stepped into the fray, pinning Adam with an icy look. “For the record, I did just fine getting in and out of the van.” She glanced from him to Julia. “But I need to sit down now. Jules, I’ll be waiting over there.” She turned and moved away.

Adam’s midnight gaze bored into Julia’s eyes. “Are you running from me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His gaze shifted to the ugly metal cane she’d gotten from the hospital medical supply, since she’d broken the other one on the Belian. He looked back at her. “I know what happened to you eleven years ago.”

It was a jolt to her system, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. “So? That’s not a secret.”

“It’s why you’re hiding from the world.”

“Oh, so you’re a psychoanalyst now? I already have a very good one—who’s actually qualified.”

He took a step closer, tall and intimidating in an expensively tailored black pin-striped suit. She caught the whiff of a tantalizing, masculine fragrance, felt the pull of sensual energy. “We’re not through, Julia.”

“Oh, yes, we—” Her words were cut off by his hand grasping her chin and his lips coming down on hers.

The airport fell away as a wave of desire rushed up like flood waters. Fire and need sparked inside her. Her body went into a wild free fall. He didn’t use his tongue, but that didn’t diminish the impact of his lips molding against hers, of the savage surge of lust spreading like a flame through her.

She could not—
would not
—allow this. She broke free, brought her hand up to slap him, but he caught her wrist in a lightning-fast move. She glared at him, willing her heart and breathing to slow. “Go to hell.”

He stared back, seemingly unaffected. “I hate to disappoint you, but that’s not very likely.”

“And isn’t that too bad.” She wrenched her arm free, refrained from touching her tingling lips. “Look, I helped you track down a monster, while I watched my sister get carved up. I’ve made my contribution, and I’m done. I’m going back to my life. I hope to God I never see you again.”

“Liar.” But he stepped back.

She straightened her jacket, turned and walked away.

“Julia.” Even the way he said her name in that harsh voice of his affected her. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. He stood there, darkly handsome, his ebony eyes mesmerizing. “Our paths
will
cross again.”

She told herself she was imagining the strange glow in his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Walk in Light,” he said quietly.

Grateful to hear their flight being called, she turned without another word. She focused on helping Marla—who tactfully didn’t mention what had just happened—stand and get to the boarding area. She didn’t look back, although she was sorely tempted.

Once on the plane, she breathed a sigh of relief, told herself it was merely fatigue, not letdown, she was feeling. She was through with Adam Masters, and her life would thankfully return to normal.

Normal, controlled, and predictable.

TWENTY

THE call came in on Marla’s private line at work. She picked it up. “Marla Reynolds.”

“Hello, Marla,” said a raspy voice. “It’s Adam Masters.”

As if she wouldn’t recognize that odd voice anywhere. She could only think of one reason he might be calling, and panic swept through her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Luke?”

“No, he’s fine. I’m calling about another matter.”

She wondered if that might be Julia. “What is it?”

“Your condition.”

Oh, God.
Her hand trembled. Grasping the receiver firmly, she forced herself to speak calmly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play games with me, Marla.”

He knew, but how? He was one scary guy. “Why don’t you just keep your nose out of my business?”

“All Sentinels born in Texas
are
my business. How are you feeling?”

Sick as a dog.
She broke off another small piece of cracker, toyed with it. For the past month, she’d divided most of her time between missing Luke so badly it was a physical ache, and hugging the toilet. Unfortunately, because of her condition, she hadn’t been able to drown her sorrows with alcohol.

“Marla, ignoring me won’t do any good, and it’s not advisable.”

Adam was forcing her to face what she’d been avoiding. It had only been four days ago that she’d accepted the possibility and done the home test, then gone to the drugstore to buy two more kits. Every one of the damned things had been positive.

“How are you feeling?” he persisted.

She sighed. “Pretty queasy. I have a doctor’s appointment next week. Adam, please don’t tell Luke, not yet. I’m not ready for him to know.”

He was silent a moment. “Let’s see how things go. I want you to call me after you see your doctor. Here’s my number.”

Marla wrote it down and promised to call. As she hung up, she felt tears welling in her eyes, another side effect of her condition. She’d been overly emotional for days. It was so damned unfair that Adam had to know and was butting into her life.

What if he’d already told Luke? That would make matters far worse. While she didn’t intend to hide her pregnancy from him, or keep him from his child, she wanted—
needed
—to be stronger before she faced him. And she certainly didn’t want him to feel obligated to her. She couldn’t stand that. She still had her pride, even if her heart was in shreds.

No, she wasn’t ready to talk to Luke yet.

 

 

DÉJÀ VU,
Luke thought as he channeled energy to turn the dead bolt. Marla hadn’t returned his calls, and she wasn’t responding to the doorbell or his knocking. On the other side of the door, Bryony was in a barking frenzy.

He stepped into the foyer. “Hello! Marla! Are you here? It’s Luke.” No response, except for Bryony’s yapping.

“Hey girl.” He leaned down, his hand out to pet her, but she skittered backward, acting like she’d never seen him before.

The beeping down the hallway reminded him of the security system. He headed to the hall closet to deactivate it, flaring out his senses as he went. No human energy in the house. Just psycho dog, who at this moment was attached to his ankle, being dragged along.

Heck of a deal. The dog must have the memory of a gnat. Hadn’t it been only been eight weeks since Bry had been following him around the house, doing that pirouette thing on her hind legs to get his attention?

Actually, it seemed a lot longer than eight weeks since he’d last seen Marla. More like an eternity, as much as he hated to admit it. He still couldn’t believe he was here. He didn’t need any distractions in his life right now. He had just regained his full strength, was dealing with the fact Barrie was about to go out on her own as a Sentinel, and there were signs of a Belian wreaking havoc in the Panhandle. A lot of stuff going on.

But he couldn’t focus on any of it, because one female had him turned inside out. He couldn’t get thoughts of Marla out of his mind. If he didn’t exert an iron will to concentrate on something else, he’d find himself thinking about her wild hair and sexy mouth; about that lush body and how good it felt to be inside her. It was frustrating as hell.

It was more than lust. He missed her wit, her smile, her laughter, and the way she made him feel. Even so, he couldn’t explain the pull that had him picking up the phone to call her—despite his resolve to remain alone—or traveling to Houston when he couldn’t reach her.

He told himself he just wanted to see how she was doing, to make sure she had recovered and wasn’t suffering any lingering effects from her contact with the Belian.
Yeah, right.
He was full of it. He missed the hell out of her. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it—probably in major denial mode—but he wanted to see her.

So he’d wait until she got home. He pried Bryony off his ankle—good thing he was wearing his boots—and threatened to zap her if she didn’t behave. She took refuge under the couch, while he made himself at home, settling on the couch, turning on the TV, and finding the Houston Astros baseball game. But he had trouble concentrating on the game, kept looking at his watch. Where was she?

Finally, he heard the garage door opening, and he turned off the TV. Bryony scampered out from beneath the couch and made a beeline for the kitchen, her little froufrou tail wagging. Guessing that Marla would come in through the kitchen, Luke sat back and waited. Anticipation tingled through him.

He heard her voice first, the soft Texas drawl doing ridiculous things to his body. “Hey baby,” she cooed to Bry. “What have you been doing? Mama missed you. Oh, your food dish is empty. Poor baby!”

She walked out of the kitchen, Bryony tucked in one arm, her purse in the other hand. “Let me reset the alarm and then I’ll feed—” she froze when she saw Luke.

“Hello, Marla.” He rose from the couch.

With a little squeak, she dropped Bry, who hit the floor with a yelp. “Luke! You scared the daylights out of me! What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Her purse dropped from her other hand as she stared at him. He was gratified by the joyful and welcoming expression that flashed on her face. For a moment, her eyes softened and warmed. He started forward, needing to touch her.

But her expression quickly changed to one of disgust. “Oh, isn’t this just great?” she said sarcastically.

He slowed his steps. “Well, yeah. It’s good to see you—”

She drew back, her body language practically screaming
don’t touch me
. “He told you, didn’t he?”

“
Who
told me
what
?”

“Damn it!”
Her fists clenched by her sides. “That sorry son of a bitch!”

This wasn’t going exactly as he had planned. “Who are you talking about?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Cut the crap.”

This was strange. Her foul language, her tension, her words—nothing made sense. He studied her, for the first time noticing the circles beneath her eyes and the porcelain paleness of her skin. She had on a cream-colored top over jeans that hadn’t been that loose before.

“You’ve lost weight,” he said sharply, closing the distance between them. He brushed the curls back from her face, took her chin in his hand, that simple touch sending a current through him. She felt unusually warm. “Are you sick? You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks a lot!” She knocked his hand away. “What are you doing here?”

Something was wrong. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m just great. Never been better. And you?”

He sensed not just sarcasm underlying her words, but also nervousness. “I’ve missed you. I wanted to see you.”

Pain flashed in her eyes. “Oh.” She walked around him, bent to pick up her purse. She stumbled a little, and he moved quickly to grab her arm and help her catch her balance.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked.

“Of course not! Why would you say such a thing?” She gave him an indignant look. “I’m just . . . tired. And my leg is still a little weak.”

He wasn’t sure he believed that. She was acting oddly, and he knew her propensity to drink when she was upset. He leaned closer and sniffed.
Crackers?

“Stop it!” She punched him on the arm. “What do you really want, Luke?”

“I want to know what the hell is going on.”

Her shoulders sagged and she turned and went to sit on the couch, dropping her purse onto the end table. Bryony jumped in her lap. She patted the dog absently then rubbed her forehead as if it ached.

He watched her, utterly perplexed. He knew he’d hurt her, but he’d thought it best at the time. He’d convinced himself that he couldn’t make a life with anyone, couldn’t do to any kids what his dad had done to them. So he’d pushed Marla away. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, had begun to realize he didn’t want to live without her. Maybe she’d moved on with her life and didn’t want anything to do with him.

Not that he could blame her; her experiences with him had been pretty horrendous. Not many conductors had the pleasure of communing directly with a Belian, coming close to dying in a bomb blast, losing their virginity and then going straight into conduction sex, or almost having their throat cut, not to mention enduring numerous knife wounds. He’d definitely put her through the ringer.

And yet, in the hospital, she’d looked at him, her heart in her eyes, and told him she loved him. Those words had been haunting him ever since. He knew she’d never say them lightly.

He went over and sat next to her, ignoring Bryony’s growl. “You didn’t return my calls.”

She turned her head, appearing genuinely surprised. “What?”

“I called both your cell and home phones and left messages.”

“Oh.” Her brow furrowed. “My cell phone was broken when I hit the sidewalk in Dallas. You know, when . . . the Belian fell on top of me, after Julia hit it with her cane. I just didn’t—” She paused, and her breath hitched. “I haven’t replaced it yet. I’ve been using my mom’s. And the other phone—I guess I haven’t been checking messages. I don’t use it much, don’t get many calls.” Her hand slid to her stomach, pressed against it.

He took her other hand. “Talk to me, Marla. Tell me what’s been going on. Who’s the son of a bitch you mentioned?”

She looked at him, her eyes dark pools of distress. “You haven’t talked to Adam?”

What did Adam have to do with this? “I e-mail or talk to Adam almost every day. Why do you ask?”

“You really don’t know, do you?” she murmured. Her complexion had taken on a sickly cast.

Alarmed by her appearance, he tried to keep it low key. “I guess not. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I—This is . . .” She freed her hand from his and raised it to her mouth. “Not a good time.
Oh, no.
” She lurched to her feet and sprinted into the hallway.

“Where are you going? Marla!” He stood, concerned and baffled. She always managed to keep him upended. He followed, heard her retching in the bathroom. He strode to the door, found it locked, and quickly dealt with it.

Marla was on her knees, hunched over the toilet. Despite her awful pallor, she managed a glare. “Damn it! I locked that door. Could I please have some privacy here?”

He stepped toward her. “You
are
sick. I’m taking you to a doctor.”

“No.” She held up a hand. “I’ve already been to the doctor.”

“What did he say was wrong?” He opened the wall cabinet, looking for a washcloth. He heard her close the lid and flush the toilet.

“She said my . . . stomach problem would pass in time.”

“You had a lot of trouble with that while we were hunting down the Belian.” He perused the neat stacks of towels. “Did she give you anything for—” He froze as his gaze landed on a box on the shelf above the towels. A home pregnancy kit.

It took a moment to sink in, the sight of that kit stunning him like a gut punch. Home. Pregnancy. Kit. As in
pregnancy
. He felt as if he’d just touched the live end of a high-voltage wire.

He spun around to find Marla on her feet. “
You’re pregnant.
That’s why you’re throwing up.”

Her eyes flared and she grabbed the edge of the vanity. But she lifted her chin and said, “There’s a news flash for you.”

His thoughts were whirling. “This changes everything.”

She stiffened as if he’d slapped her. “No, it doesn’t.” She shoved past him, got a cup off the counter, and rinsed out her mouth. Setting the cup down, she looked at him. “Go away, Luke.”

“Like hell!”

She simply turned and left the bathroom. He followed. “We need to talk. We have to make some decisions.”

She whirled on him. “I already told you, this doesn’t change anything. It changes
nothing
, do you hear me?”

The shrillness of her voice must have alarmed Bryony, because she rushed Luke, attacking his leg and gnawing at his boot.

“You made your choice,” Marla said fiercely. “You made it very clear that you didn’t want a commitment, that you didn’t want—” More pain flashed in her eyes. “Me.”

He felt a sinking feeling, because he could see how she might think that, but she was wrong. “That’s not exactly true, and you know it.”

“I know we went our separate ways. And I know a one-sided relationship is doomed for failure. Not even a baby can save it.” Her expression resolute, she pointed to the front door. “I want you to go now.”

“I’m not leaving with this up in the air.”

“We’ll talk about it, I promise. Just not tonight, okay?” Sudden tears filled her eyes and she swiped at them. “Damn it! Why do I have to get emotional now?”

Luke reached for her, but she backed up, shaking her head. “
Go away.
This is my house, and I’m telling you to leave. I need to be alone.”

He ran his hand through his hair, so shaken up and frustrated, he wanted to break something. He knew with a fierce, primitive urgency that Marla was
his
. She carried his child—a Sentinel child—and she belonged to him. And she loved him—information she’d freely volunteered.