Fallen Star (5 page)

Faint blue rings ignited in the depths of
Odintar’s gaze and Jillian gasped. The color receded as fast as it
appeared, but she hadn’t imagined the unearthly gleam. He wasn’t
human. He’d teleported with her in his arms and claimed that he
could heal her. All she had to do was trust him enough to let him
try. The problem was, she didn’t trust him. She didn’t even know
him.

But she knew Tori and—if the video message
could be believed—Tori trusted Odintar.

Jillian took a deep breath and then another,
carefully keeping her eyes averted from his handsome face. When she
looked at him, his gaze surrounded her, muddled her thinking. He
exuded power and menace, yet the danger didn’t seem to be directed
at her. He would make a fierce adversary and a welcome champion.
She’d never had someone to defend her, to protect her from—he was a
healer, not a knight in shining armor. She had to pull her head out
of the clouds, even if the situation felt like something out of a
fairy tale.
Helpless maiden thinks her life is over, her dreams
obliterated, then handsome prince rushes in and sets her world to
rights.
No wonder her head was spinning.

“If I let you do this…” She glanced at him
then looked away. His gaze hadn’t lost its power. Despite his
casual clothes and calm manner, he didn’t seem quite civilized.
“How long will it take to fix the damage? Can you really restore my
leg completely?”
Will I be able to dance again?
She couldn’t
bring herself to ask the last question. It was too painful to even
consider.

“I won’t make specific promises, but I can
certainly produce a better result than your human doctors.”

The other elements of Angie’s “crazy story”
returned with a vengeance. If Odintar was actually a healer, did
that mean the rest was true? “Is someone really after me?” Fear
penetrated her shock and brought the present into sharper
focus.

“Let’s concentrate on your leg right now.
Once your physical limitations are resolved, I’ll answer all of
your questions.”

It was hard to argue with his logic. As it
was right now, she couldn’t move off the couch without his help.
She’d be a fool not to make herself less vulnerable. Empowered by a
renewed purpose, she finally met his gaze. “What do you need me to
do?”

“Any barrier between your skin and mine will
disrupt the concentration of energy. We can use a blanket to cover
your other leg if you’re self-conscious, but I need access to your
injury.”

She chuckled. Didn’t he know how she made
her living? She’d always refused to go topless, but she frequently
danced in a thong. Her legs were her best asset. She was certainly
not self-conscious about them. “You’ll need to help me. If we take
off the brace, it’s really painful for me to move at all.”

He carefully lifted her feet off his lap and
stood. Then he steadied her leg while she released the Velcro
straps. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a large man. But
then he looked more like a football player than a healer. No, an
Army Ranger. He definitely put off military vibes. He supported her
leg with one hand and gingerly removed the brace with the other,
faultlessly anticipating where she needed his help.

She sighed. It always felt wonderful to have
the pressure gone. Until the slightest movement shot ribbons of
pain up and down her leg. Leaning back against the arm of the sofa,
she unzipped her jeans and tried to wiggle out of them. Discomfort
spiked to her hip and she gasped.

His hands brushed hers aside and he grasped
the sides of her jeans. “Lift your hips and let me do the
rest.”

Awareness crackled around them as he bent
over her. His scent, clean yet faintly spicy, teased her nose.
Unable to resist the temptation, she inhaled deeply, imprinting the
unique smell on her memory. The T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders
then skimmed over his chest and abdomen, hinting at muscular
definition she couldn’t actually see. His hips were lean, legs
long. And those night-black eyes hypnotized her. She couldn’t
remember ever having been this intrigued by a man she’d just met.
It usually took her forever to develop a connection with anyone,
male or female.

He slowly peeled her jeans down, supporting
her injured leg as he drew the pant leg off. His fingertips brushed
her inner thigh, her calf, and then her ankle. She tried not to
squirm as heat rolled through her abdomen and settled between her
thighs with unmistakable intent.

“You okay?” He straightened and set the
jeans aside.

The red-and-white-striped thong she’d
slipped on that morning left not only her legs bare, but her hips
and a good deal of her abdomen. “I’m fine.” The words sounded thin
and uncertain and heat burst across her cheekbones. Good God, was
she actually blushing? If he was a healer, he had to be used to
seeing naked body parts.

“Relax for a moment. I need to find a pair
of scissors.” He turned and crossed the room, disappearing into the
adjoining kitchen.

She pulled her shirt down, covering her
belly and most of her hips. This was ridiculous. Teleporting must
have addled her brain. He was a healer, not a potential date.

He returned with a pair of scissors and
slowly removed the bandages covering her leg. There was a large
incision on her thigh and a smaller one three inches below her
knee. From upper thigh to ankle, her flesh was a mass of purple
bruises. She needn’t have worried about him being aroused by her
legs. Who would find this attractive?

“Have they put pins or plates in your leg,
anything artificial?”

She shook her head. “So many of the blood
vessels were damaged, they weren’t sure they were going to be able
to save my leg. The focus of the first surgery was restoring blood
flow while keeping me from bleeding to death. They wanted to make
sure my leg was capable of healing before they bothered with any
sort of reconstruction.”

“That will work to our advantage. Anything
metallic would have hindered my abilities.” He knelt beside the
sofa and rolled his shoulders. “Make sure you’re in a comfortable
position, this will take some time.”

Relaxing back against the padded armrest,
she watched him closely, waiting for him to begin. His chest
expanded as he drew in a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a
moment then opened them and focused on her leg. She didn’t ask the
questions buzzing in her mind, didn’t want to distract him in any
way.

Tension banded her chest and she fought to
remain still. Was this really happening? Her mind refused to
register the possibility that she could be made whole again, that
the shattered pieces of her dreams could be reassembled.

He extended one hand and then the other, his
palms hovering over her skin. A faint tingle rippled along her shin
then spiraled through her thigh. She closed her eyes, trying to
soothe her anxiety with pleasant thoughts and deep breaths, but his
scent lingered in her nose, prolonging her restlessness. His
fingers brushed her knee and she tensed.

“There will be sensations, but this
shouldn’t hurt. If you feel pain, let me know immediately.”

She opened her eyes as she nodded, but he’d
closed his eyes, so she said, “I will.”

He slipped one hand under the bend of her
knee and carefully pressed the other over the smaller incision.
Heat passed between his hands in rhythmic pulses. Her calf muscle
tensed and released over and over, the intensity not quite
painful.

By the time he moved on, she felt flushed
and dizzy. Was this a side effect of the healing or was she
hyperventilating? She tried to relax by counting her breaths.
One in, out. Two in, out. Three…

It was no use. An alien was healing her leg.
The realization echoed through her mind, compounding her agitation.
Aliens were on Earth, hunting mates, endangering her friends. Even
in her mind it sounded ridiculous, yet how could she disregard the
facts. Odintar could teleport and she’d yet to assess the result,
but it sure as hell felt like he was healing her.

He paused, his hand resting just above her
knee. “You’re starting to resist me. Do we need to talk this out
before I go on?”

“It’s just surreal. I can’t stop thinking
about all the things someone like you must be capable of doing.”
The nonspecific fear hovered in the back of her mind, intensifying
her anxiety.

He moved his hand off her leg. “I will not
harm you. Do you believe that much at least?”

“I do.” She sighed. “But I can’t help
wondering why you’re willing to help, not just me but humans in
general.”

“I understand your doubt and I will explain,
but I need to finish stabilizing the fractures. Once the bones are
solid again, I’ll stop and we can talk. All right?”

“All right.”

Moving closer to the sofa, he placed one
hand on the outside of her leg and the other on her inner thigh.
His long fingers splayed against her flesh and the warm pulsing
resumed. She bent her uninjured knee and rotated her leg outward,
giving him more room between her thighs. There was nothing sexual
about his touch, but each time his hands shifted heat curled
through her abdomen.

She stared at the ceiling and fought the
urge to wiggle. His hands were warm and each anxious breath drew
his scent deeper into her lungs. Maybe there was something in his
scent that was making her antsy. There had to be a reason she was
reacting this way.

He worked his way up from her knee and then
back down. The sweeping motion spread tingling heat through her
muscles and joints. As he’d promised, it didn’t hurt. Still, her
body registered an intimacy she knew he didn’t intend. Was she just
so starved for human contact that she…but he wasn’t human!

“It’s probably best if you don’t try to walk
on it yet. The damage is extensive. Mobility should be better,
though. See if you can bend your knee.”

Desperate for a distraction from her
convoluted thoughts, she happily complied. She slowly bent her knee
and then straitened her leg again. Her muscles protested and her
joints burned, but the sensations were uncomfortable not
excruciating. She repeated the motion, faster this time and the
pain was even less intrusive. “Wow. It really is better.”

“Good.” He raked one hand through his hair
and rolled his shoulders. “I need to eat something and rest for an
hour or so, then we’ll get back to work. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I am.” The realization surprised
her. Her appetite had been basically nonexistent since the
accident. “Could you hand me my jeans.” She was no longer worried
about him doing something inappropriate. It was her body bent on
misbehavior.

“I have a better idea.” Without explaining
what he meant, he headed down the hallway toward the back of the
house. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of pull-on
shorts. “Tori gathered some of your things for you. They’re in the
first bedroom.”

“How long have you guys been planning my
disappearance?” She took the shorts from his outstretched hand and
scooted to the edge of the sofa so she could dress.

“Not long. We knew something had to be done
when we found out you were being discharged from the hospital.” She
slipped the shorts on then stood so she could pull them up. Odintar
was beside her in an instant, steadying her and making sure her
weight remained centered on her uninjured leg. “Shall I carry you
into the kitchen or bring the food out here?”

His gaze moved over her features with
caressing intensity and the blue rings flickered within the pools
of black. “Why do they do that?” she whispered.

“Why does who do what?”

The jumbled question made her smile. “Your
eyes. At times I see rings of blue inside your eyes. Is something
causing the flash of color or is it spontaneous?”

His features relaxed and the rings reformed,
bright, solid circles separating his pupils from his equally dark
irises. “I’m able to make subtle changes to my appearance. It helps
me blend in with humans. Sometimes, when I’m particularly
distracted, I lose control of the shift.”

Heat crept up her neck as she absorbed the
inference. He found her as distracting as she found him. Tension
arced between them, pulling them closer like a gravitational field.
She swayed toward him, tilting her face up in the process. He
leaned down and her lips parted, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he
swept her up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen.

Without her jeans she was inescapably aware
of his arms, his hands, and the fluid strength with which he moved.
He was staring straight ahead, so she took advantage of the
opportunity and examined his features up close. Whiskers shadowed
his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. Rather than make
him look slovenly, the bristles accented the angle of his jaw and
his prominent cheekbones. Were his eyes the only feature he altered
or was his natural appearance even more alien? The question seemed
rude, so she kept her speculation to herself.

He pulled out a chair with his foot and set
her down. “Are you warm enough or should I find a blanket.”

“I’m fine,” she assured, warmed by his
ongoing concern.

“All right.” He crossed to the refrigerator
and pulled it open. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a cook. How
about a sandwich.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. Whatever you’re
having is fine with me.”

He gathered what he needed for their
makeshift meal and brought the supplies to the table. “So how much
did Angie tell you? I don’t want to be repetitive.”

He’d brought a bottle of beer and a can of
cola. She picked up the cola and left him the beer. “You probably
better start over. I didn’t take her seriously.” She opened
packages and handed him utensils, not wanting to feel completely
useless.

“Shadow Assassins were created during the
Great Conflict on Ontariese.”