Read My Man Michael Online

Authors: Lori Foster

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction

My Man Michael (23 page)

BOOK: My Man Michael
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“It’s indecent,” Raemay grumbled, pulling Kayli out of her reverent stare.
“It’s just his way, Mother.” She nodded to the women in approval, and continued on. As they got nearer the group of men, one of them stopped sparring and put his hands on his knees.
Michael said, “I didn’t call a stop yet. Let’s go.”
“But my legs hurt,” the man complained, bent double and huffing air. Kayli recognized him as a successful merchant, and a man unused to heavy physical activity.
Not that Michael cared for his excuses.
He stood over the man with an expression of disgust. “Does your vagina hurt, too, you big wuss?”
Shocked, the man sputtered in response.
Raemay gasped.
Kayli, God help her, had to stifle a laugh, as did a few of the other women who bit their lips or hid their mouths behind their hands.
Michael pointed to the female warriors, all of them practicing with a vigorous show of energy. “They’re still at it, and even with an idle job, you’ve got bigger muscles and should have more stamina. If you want to be part of the defense, you have to learn to push through the pain. You have to be at least as good as the women.”
Though it took a visible effort, the man straightened and went back to work. Michael nodded in satisfaction, noticed Kayli and Raemay watching, and gave them a brief nod as well.
Not long after that, though, he called a halt and gave everyone a moment to grab a drink or stretch.
Raemay touched Kayli’s arm. Her eyes were disapproving, her mouth tight in a sign of annoyance. But she didn’t voice a complaint. Instead, she whispered to Kayli, “What is a wuss?”
CHAPTER 12
F
OR several days, Kayli managed to dodge any heartfelt discussions with Michael. It was easier than she had imagined, given how he threw himself into the training. The man proved tireless.
He set up three sessions a day, allowing the women to join them, even appointing some of the better female fighters the task of instruction.
On the third day, the men and women mixed, all working at various skill levels. There wasn’t a single unutilized space on the fields. Michael effectively divided groups, giving each a specific task, then rotating them at intervals.
On the forth day, he took it further than field training. He wanted everyone to pay attention to diet, too, which meant he ate many of his meals with the trainees. After a long consultation with the cooks, he came up with a specific menu for everyone. He praised as often as he corrected, harassed as often as he commiserated.
And he sought Kayli’s input.
He truly made her feel an important part of the equation. If she noticed a lapse in technique, he stood back while she offered the correction, then smiled at her with pride. So often, the way he looked at her made her blush.
Even now, with everyone working hard, he found time to seek her out with his gaze, to look her over and smile in that appreciative way.
“Your heart is racing,” Hauk pointed out.
“We’ve been working for hours.” Kayli used a forearm to wipe the sweat from her brow, turning away from Michael.
“You’re in incredible shape, so exercise has nothing to do with it, and you know it.”
“Do you want something, Hauk?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Mallet wants to speak with you.”
“Now?” He often conferred with her during practices, and in the middle of explaining a technique, he’d tell her that she smelled good, or that she looked good sweaty; sometimes he’d just say that he wanted to hear her voice.
Little by little, he was softening her. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
“At the end of the practice,” Hauk explained. And then, in a chastising tone, he added, “You’ve been avoiding him, Kayli, and he’s been patient. But it’s not like you to cower.”
“I am not cowering!” She was giving herself time to get her thoughts together, to . . . prepare herself. She glanced over and saw that Michael had gathered everyone together. He did that each day, going over what they’d learned, offering encouragement, and answering questions. She sighed.
“Fibber,” Hauk accused. “You’re uncertain of how he might affect your neatly organized life, but Mallet deserves your attention.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you, his defender? He can handle himself, you know.”
“Indeed. He is most capable of handling many things, including your insecurities.”
Gnashing her teeth, Kayli said, “I’ll talk to him later.” Because she wasn’t ready to face Michael and his expectations, she slipped away before he could wrap up his pep talk to the assembly.
She’d denied it to Hauk, but she knew it was cowardly to flee this way. But blast it, she needed time to herself, time to sort through her feelings.
Time to prepare herself.
In a very short time, she’d gone from acceptance of a solitary life of duty to dealing with the flirtatious courtship of a very large, very sexual man who claimed to want her, and who made her want . . . things, too.
Hoping Michael wouldn’t notice her retreat, she hopped on her aircycle and drove away. The air had cooled a little as the hours slipped away, and the breeze on her face dried the sweat on her heated skin. She felt itchy, as much from her unresolved feelings toward Michael as from her strenuous activity.
When she reached the lake where she liked to swim, she turned off her aircycle and dismounted. The sun hung low in the sky, sending a splash of crimson color over the horizon.
Sitting on a large, flat boulder, Kayli pulled off her boots, loosened her belt, and sprawled out on her back. The surrounding trees allowed a dapple of sunlight to dance over her face. The whistle of a bird and the water lapping on the shore lent musical whispers to the air. “Hauk?”
“Hmmm?”
The computer’s easy tone matched her melancholy mood. At least with Hauk, there was no reason for pretense. “You’re right, you know.”
“About you being insecure? Of course I am. But you shouldn’t be.”
Easy for him to say. No one expected the same things of him. “I don’t know anything about sex.”
“You took the basics, Kayli. You know the mechanics.”
“Just barely.”
“So?”
“Michael knows much more.”
“I’m sure he does. He lived in a different culture than you.”
“It’s not just that.” Though God knew, that was more than enough. “He’s more innately sexual. I feel it when I’m around him.”
“I’m positive that he’ll be happy to teach you anything you need to learn.”
She had the feeling that Hauk deliberately missed her point. “I feel like an idiot.”
A voice, not Hauk’s, said, “Perhaps I can help. I have a modicum of experience.”
Kayli shot upright and twisted at the same time to face the intruder. “Dormius!” She hadn’t heard him approach, and Hauk, blast him, hadn’t warned her. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you.” Cautiously, he strode toward her and sat close on the rock. “Do you mind?”
Eyeing him, Kayli tried to figure a reply. Dormius was a little younger than her, attractive with boyish charm and an easy smile. Though both of her sisters had whispered about him, their hands over their hearts, he didn’t interest her one whit.
Because her sisters liked him, Kayli had always made a point of looking over him, beyond him, or through him.
“What is it you want?”
He pushed breeze-ruffled brown hair from his forehead. “The rules have changed of late.”
“The rules?”
Gaze direct, compelling, and enveloping, he stared at her. “Until the outsider came and named you as available, no one dared pay you too much attention. But I have always noticed you. I’ve always . . . admired you.”
Drawing back, Kayli frowned. Oh no. No, no, no. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He reached for her hand, shocking Kayli and making her realize how different Michael’s touch felt to her. Less unwanted and intrusive. Less . . . repugnant.
“You are very different from other women here.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Oh yes. I admire the differences.” His gaze moved over her face and he took a deep breath. “I’ve seen the way the outsider—”
“His name is Michael.” For some reason, she did not want Michael forever labeled an outsider.
Dormius nodded. “I see how he kisses you. Often. Everyone sees.” His gaze met hers, pinning her in place. “You like it.”
She leaned farther away. “Michael is impulsive and isn’t yet accustomed to our ways.”
“But you are—and still you allow the kisses.”
How was she to stop Michael? He often did things even before she knew . . . No, that wasn’t true. If she told him, in no uncertain terms, not to kiss her, he wouldn’t.
But she’d never told him not to.
She was to blame.
Dormius smiled. “I heard you speaking to Hauk, but what can an asexual computer really tell you?”
She started to stand, and Dormius caught her arms. Not hard, not really restraining her, but making his preference for her to stay well-known.
Without another word between them, Kayli’s training kicked in, shored up by her natural resistance to things unfamiliar.
And this, with a certainty, was unfamiliar.
Her eyes narrowed. “Coming here was a big mistake, Dormius.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” And he stood with her.
 
 
MALLET took a long drink of the crispest, purest water he’d ever tasted. Like most things here, the water was better. The sky, the scents, the laughter. He liked it all.
Since he’d started training, everything else seemed to have fallen into place for him. He belonged, more so than he ever had. He enjoyed the people, different as they might be. Except for his lack of communication with Kayli, he was having the time of his life.
Two of the women from the defense team gave him the once-over. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, but for the most part, he pretended not to notice. After a cordial nod of greeting, he picked up his shirt and swiped the sweat from his face, then drew it over his head. He found that they sent him fewer covetous looks when he was covered more. Given that he didn’t want to encourage them, it’d be best to stay fully dressed when possible.
“Sir?”
He looked up to greet a young man still red with exertion. “Call me Mallet.”
Hesitant, the man said, “I am Kamir. Could I beg a moment of your time, please?”
“You can’t beg, no, but my time is yours.” He smiled at him. “What’s up?”
For a moment, Kamir looked confused before cautiously returning the smile. “It’s true that you speak very differently.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I enjoy your informality.”
“Good to know. So Kamir, what can I do for you?”
Kamir stepped closer, struggling with what he wanted to say. “I enjoyed our activities today.”
Knowing he’d worked them hard, ramping things up to get them all ready in record time, Mallet grinned. “No complaints, huh?”
“No si . . . Mallet. I like the way it feels to use my body this way.” He stretched out a leanly muscled arm, flexed it back. “I’m tired, but in a good way.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Mallet slapped him on the shoulder. He’d often felt the same, enjoying each new muscle he discovered, each new measure of strength. “Keep at it, and you’ll be totally ripped in no time, I promise you.”
“Ripped?”
“Shredded. In shape.” He shook his head. “As good as a body can get.”
“Ah, I see.” Very serious now, Kamir said, “That brings me to my point. I was wondering if there were more activities I could practice at home.”
Mallet loved the enthusiasm. At first, he’d been concerned that the men would be total wimps, since they’d been so willing to hide behind the women.
Now he knew that it had never been by choice, it was a concession made to the women they loved. He couldn’t do it, but then, he hadn’t been born and raised in this atmosphere.
So far, every guy who’d joined him—and just about every able-bodied man had—gave it his all. They got into the fun of it, ribbing each other, competing, and at the same time showing off for the women who trained beside them.
Of course, the women showed off a little, too. He hadn’t lied when he told Kayli she’d done a phenomenal job. The women were not to be dismissed. They’d be a valuable asset in fighting off foes—if Mallet could get beyond the fact they were women putting themselves at risk.
Even now, he wasn’t sure if he could take it once the real conflict began.
“There are things you can do in your spare time, and we can go over them later, after you’ve become accustomed to the ones I’ll cover here, at the arena.” The last thing he needed was some overenthusiastic kid hurting himself. “In the meantime, just stick with the menu and make sure you show up every day.”
“But—”
BOOK: My Man Michael
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