My Man Michael (28 page)

E
VEN as his partially disrobed presence nearly sent her into a swoon, Mesha remained determined to complete her mission. It was more difficult than she’d imagined because of his dominating physique.

He was so muscular.

And hairy.

And . . .
male
.

She’d never seen a man like him, and she doubted she ever would again.

She gave a delicate cough to clear her throat and tried not to keep staring at his chest.

She failed.

The men she’d seen, never so unclothed, had smooth chests without all the muscles or dark hair. This man was so different. So bold and dark.

He was . . . breathtaking.

While he waited with seeming patience, she cleared her throat again. “Yes, I’m Mesha, Kayli’s sister.”

“The youngest one, right?” He picked up a shirt, shook it out, and struggled to get it on over his wet skin.

“I am eighteen.”

His head cleared the material and he tugged it down over his abdomen. “You’re damn near a baby.”

Lord help her, that shirt clung to every swell of muscle, only highlighting his strength rather than concealing it.

Nodding at her light, he said, “Care to douse that a little? You’re blinding me.”

“Oh.” She dragged her hand from top to bottom down the light stick, and it dimmed. “My apologies.”

“No harm.” After sitting on a rock, he began putting on his socks. “What are you doing out here, Mesha? Isn’t it dangerous for a woman your age to be alone in the dark, in the woods?”

At least he’d referred to her as a woman this time, and not a baby. “How so?” Even his feet were big and . . . strangely beautiful. Somehow
powerful
.

He gave her a negligent glance. “You aren’t worried about getting attacked?”

The questions confused her. “By whom?”

His laugh was abrupt and lacking in humor. “Attackers? Hell, girl, I don’t know. Your colony might be safe as a day-care most of the time, but it has had some issues lately, right?”

“Oh.” He referred to the recent infiltration of outsiders—the very reason he’d been brought in. “They always warn us before arriving.”

She dared to inch closer to him, watching him don his clothes, and it suddenly dawned on her. He had been swimming. In the lake.

Naked!

Unmindful of the impropriety of such a thing, he dressed with an efficient, masculine grace. “So there are no other villains lurking about, huh?”

“No, of course not.”

“What about me?” Now fully dressed but still damp, especially his hair, he rose from the rock to tower over her. “You don’t know me well enough to assume I’m all that safe and proper.”

She was unable to halt the small, unladylike snort. “Definitely not proper, sir, given it appears you’ve been swimming in the lake.”

“Buck-ass,” he agreed, shocking her. “Which proves my point, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t back up when he moved closer to her. In fact, she forced herself to lift her chin. “Kayli trusts you, and that is all the reassurance I need. She would not put her faith in an untrustworthy person.”

“That’s your whole logic on it, huh?”

It wasn’t enough? “Yes.”

He laughed, this time with a little more amusement. “I guess I can’t argue with that, since I agree your sister is a smart cookie with very good instincts.”

Not quite understanding, Mesha frowned and fidgeted with the light. “Kayli is very intelligent, and she’s brave and strong. She’s always been an excellent judge of character.”

“All that and more,” Michael agreed. Then he turned his head to scrutinize her. “You admire those qualities in your sister?”

“Oh yes, very much.” In many ways, Kayli was her idol, the person she most looked up to. “If I . . . if I had been different, I would have joined the defense.”

“Different how?”

She made a face of disgust. Touting her lesser qualities hadn’t been part of the strategy when she’d set out on this mission. “I’m weak. And I can’t help but cry when things upset me.”

“So?” His giant shoulder lifted in a shrug of indifference. “Most females do.”

Though she didn’t deny it, that attitude set her pride on edge. He was sexist, which probably accounted for her mother’s displeasure with him. “I’ve never seen Kayli cry.”

His hands landed on his hips, and he frowned, as if Kayli’s stoicism bothered him. In a musing tone, he said, “She’s a leader.”

Mesha nodded her agreement to that. “And Kayli doesn’t get panicked when things go wrong. She has a very cool head and does what she has to do to gain control of the situation.”

His frown darkened more. “She’s trained.”

“Yes, sir, but I know those are also intrinsic qualities in her character.”

“You think? I’m not sure I agree.” Before Mesha could ask him what he meant, he crossed his arms over his massive chest. “So, Mesha, what’s up?”

His sudden focus on her left her tongue-tied. “Up?”

“Why did you sneak out here to find me?”

“Oh.” Nervousness fluttered through her, but she couldn’t deny that she had snuck. “I had some . . . special inquiries that, if you’ll forgive the imposition and intrusion, I think you could explain for me.”

“Queries huh?”

“Ah . . . yes, sir.”

“Forget that sir stuff, okay? Call me Mallet.”

“But . . . oh, I could not. It wouldn’t be—”

“Proper?” He laughed at her.

Just the thought of such familiarity left Mesha breathless. And then what he’d said sank in. “But I thought your name was Michael?”

His charming grin sent her stomach into flip-flops. “Yeah, it is. But friends call me Mallet.”

Now a little breathless, she pointed out, “My sister calls you Michael.”

The grin turned intimate. “She’s more than a friend, now, isn’t she?”

“Oh.” Her poor sister didn’t stand a chance against someone with Michael’s charisma. No wonder Kayli allowed him to be so different. “Yes, of course. You will join in union.”

“Exactly. So . . .” He quirked a brow at her. “Those queries, Mesha?”

Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Mesha dragged her hand down the light stick again, completely dousing it, though the moon still provided some illumination.

Mallet stirred uneasily. “Uh . . .”

“I’m sorry, sir, but it will be easier if I don’t have to face you.”

“Yeah, well . . .” His agitation reached her even across the area that separated them. “You know, I’m thinking that maybe this is a discussion you should have with Kayli instead of me.”

“Kayli would not have the answers I need.” She hedged, hesitated, and then blurted, “Is it wrong for me to be so attracted to a man?”

He muttered, “Oh shit.”

Mesha rushed on before he could derail her purpose. “I want to have a union with him, and I think we will someday.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“I doubt you know him, sir. The thing is, we’re not yet in union, and still . . . he’s . . . Oh God. He’s
kissed
me.” With that intimate disclosure, Mesha put her hands over her face. Embarrassed heat flooded to the surface of her skin.

“He’s kissed you?”

Through her fingers, she admitted the unthinkable. “Twice.”

There was a long pause, then a gruff laugh. “Yeah? So what?”

Her knees almost gave out. He didn’t point at her and call her shameful. He didn’t reel back in shock.

She dropped her hands and looked at him, at the slight, amused smile on his handsome face. He honestly didn’t seem to think anything of her shame.

Filled with hope, Mesha whispered, “It’s not wrong?”

“A kiss?” He snorted much louder and ruder than she had. “Why the hell would a kiss be so wrong?”

“I really don’t know.” That was just it. She couldn’t understand the smothering strictures dictated by the colony.

“This guy smooching you up—he’s not already in a union, is he?”

“No, of course not.” Such a suggestion was outrageous. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Is he a lot older than you?”

“He’s two years older.”

“Hmmm.” Michael rubbed his chin in thought. “Exactly how old are folks before they get unionized here?”

“Unionized?” The things he said, the slang he used, was so unfamiliar that it often confounded her. “If you are asking what is the median age of those who join in union, it’s early twenties, but some join in union during their latest teens.”

He sized her up in the darkness. “So you’re a little young, but not all that much, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the big deal?”

Shaking her head, Mesha blurted, “I saw you kiss Kayli, several times in fact, and she did not object. Everyone whispered about it, though.”

In a rush of anger, he took one giant step and loomed over her. “Who? Who talked about Kayli?”

Mesha stumbled back and would have fallen if he hadn’t shot out his hands to grab her upper arms. His reaction was so fast, she didn’t have time to even think of dodging him.

In a firm hold that didn’t hurt, but allowed no wiggle room, he kept her close. He didn’t raise his voice—but that only made the lethal tone more alarming. “Did someone say something bad about her?”

“No!” Good God, she wanted to faint. She’d never witnessed such a defensive, protective reaction from a man. Michael’s hands were huge, wrapping entirely around her arms. And this close, she felt the heat pulsing off his big rock-solid body.

Even after he released her, she couldn’t move. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. And she could
smell
him, a warm, not-unpleasant scent that sent strange swirls of giddy awareness through her belly.

“Who was it, Mesha?”

Stammering, she explained, “Mostly my friends, girls my age. We’re all just . . . confused.”

“A gaggle of your girlfriends were gossiping? That’s it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I promise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Got it. Look, you should really talk to Kayli about this. I don’t know squat about the restrictions around here, except that I think they’re overdone.”

“I think so, too!”

Michael tugged on his ear. “But you know, it could be this twenty-something kid is taking advantage of you. I can tell you that boys that age have only one thing on their minds.”

Scandalized, her eyes widened and her voice dropped to a whisper. “What is on their minds?”

He laughed. “Let’s just say, it’s usually not settling down with a nice girl.”

Mesha edged closer. Finally, she’d hear the truth. “Then what?”

He took in her expression, his mouth quirked, and then he burst into a big, robust laugh. “Sorry, kiddo.” Reaching out one hand, he touched the end of her nose. “The answer to that one is definitely reserved for Kayli.”

Disappointment dragged her down. He treated her like a child, which was okay except that she knew he wouldn’t tell her anything important.

She dug the toe of her shoe into the grass. “I tried talking to Idola about it, but she doesn’t understand.” She peeked up to ensure she still had Michael’s attention. “I think she enjoys teasing all the boys.”

“I bet,” he said under his breath, and then added, “She’ll probably outgrow that as soon as she meets the right guy for her.”

Mesha wasn’t convinced. “I don’t think so. As the oldest, Idola is favored by our mother and gets to attend all the meetings at the Cosmos Confederation. While she’s there, every male fawns over her. She enjoys the attention.”

Michael gave her a confused look. “I thought Kayli was the oldest.”

“Warriors can’t inherit.” Mesha lifted her arms. “For that reason, they don’t really count. Idola, though, she’s very important to my mother, to our colony, and she knows it. Sometimes . . .” Mesha hesitated, unsure if her admission would be taken as a whiney complaint. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t have my place. I’m not a valiant warrior like Kayli, and I’m not the one to inherit, as Idola will do one day.”

Her worry proved unwarranted since Michael barely paid any mind to her complaints. “That’s just not right. One child should never be favored over another.”

He seemed infuriated—why, she couldn’t guess. Kayli was happy in her choices.

Didn’t he know that?

Mesha drew a breath. “Sir, my point is that Idola doesn’t understand because she isn’t concerned about finding the right man for her. She has numerous choices, not just from here, but from . . . everywhere in the galaxy.”

He paced away. “Yeah, she said something along those lines.”

“And Kayli, until recently—until
you
—was resigned to being a warrior.”

“She’ll still be a warrior,” Michael said, and it sounded like a vow. “Defending others is in her blood, a part of the person she is. Once we do the union, she’ll just have me tagging along for the ride.”

Kayli was so independent that Mesha couldn’t imagine such a thing. She said only, “I know you’ll make Kayli happy.” She thought he already did, despite the way Kayli sometimes debated with him.

“Hey.” As if just remembering why she’d come to him in the first place, Mallet put a finger under her chin and tipped up her face. “Listen, it’s human to want to kiss and hug and all that shit. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

“Shit?”

He shook his head. “Forget that. Sorry. I should have said stuff. Kissing and touching and
stuff
.”

Mesha realized he’d grown impatient, that she’d overstayed her welcome. “I’m sorry.” She took one step away. “I should be going.”

“Probably.” But he asked, “Where to?”

“My mother’s home.”

More annoyance bristled in his tone. “Isn’t it your home, too?”

“For now, yes of course. Until I get my own.”
Until I make a union.
She sighed. Would it
ever
happen?

“Mesha? One thing before you go.”