My Man Michael (7 page)

“Yeah. Can’t wait.” Mallet caught her upper arm and tugged her resisting body slowly down to him. He stared at that oh-so-sexy mouth of hers, watched her lips part, saw her tongue slip out to wet dry lips.

Damn, he was hard again, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

“Closer,” he whispered, his voice deep and rough. “A little more.”

He felt her hot breath touch on his face, felt her palpating fear, strange as that seemed. And then his mouth brushed hers, and though he wasn’t a man given to poetic inclinations, he knew her mouth intoxicated him—that was the only way to describe the rush of sensation that jumbled his emotions and fired a deep physical response.

Using his free hand, Mallet clasped her warm nape to keep her close. He deepened the kiss, turned his head for a better fit, and slicked his tongue past her teeth to explore her sweet mouth.

At first, she gasped and stiffened. Mallet kept it up, tasting her, teasing himself, and reveling in how a simple kiss had turned so carnal.

As he burned, she gradually slumped into him, and by small degrees flattened over him.

To fully relish the feel of the soft female body covering him and her cautious, surprised response, Mallet kept his eyes closed.

It wasn’t until his hand moved down her back to her behind that she stiffened and jerked back on straightened arms.

Panting a little, her eyes cloudy with confusion and uncertainty, she asked, “Satisfied?”

Keeping Kayli’s gaze locked in his, Mallet shook his head. A warm breeze moved over them, dancing over his heated skin and causing her fine, silky hair to move. “I won’t be satisfied until I’m well enough to put you under me.”

To his right, a man said, “You are well enough.”

Shock sliced through Mallet.

Keeping a hold on Kayli, he jerked around—and discovered he wasn’t in his familiar hospital bed any longer.

Oh shit, oh shit,
oh shit
.

Purest sunlight shone through a tall wall of windows built along one side of a white room with a very high ceiling. There were tables and chairs, but unlike any he’d ever seen. Through an open corridor, warm, fresh air circulated.

He gulped. “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Kayli blinked. “Sir?”

Several robed people stood around him, all of them strangers to him, all of them with impersonal expressions on their faces.

Scowling at Kayli with accusation, incredulity, and a healthy dose of caution, Mallet accepted the truth. “You transported me!”

CHAPTER 4

R
ATTLED from the unexpected intimacy of Michael’s kiss, Kayli tried to free herself without success. Michael’s hands were so tight on her, she winced. Knowing it was a reaction to the circumstances, and not a bent toward brutality, she leaned closer to him. “It’s okay, Michael. They’re only android assistants.”

“Android assistants?” His vigilant gaze never wavered from their audience. “As in . . .” He shook his head with disbelief. “Not real?”

“They’re real, sir. Very real. They’re just not human. These are my friends and companions.”

“Robots? Are you yanking my chain?”

The things he said . . . “They’re anthropomorphic systems.” At his blank look, she clarified, “Designed to be human in appearance, but freethinking only to a limited degree.”

“Who designs them?”

“These were of my preferences.”

Shock faded under censure and his brows pinched down over burning blue eyes. “They’re all
male
, Kayli.”

He appeared to want an explanation for that. “Well . . . yes, I know.” Kayli shrugged. “I prefer male company.”

The scowl darkened. “Is that so?”

With his intent gaze zeroed back in on her, she again tried to wiggle free. “Sir? Could you please loosen your grip?”

He glanced down at his taut hold, and released her with a rush. “Shit, I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

At his curse, the scandalized assistants all murmured to one another. It was unheard of for anyone, human or humanoid, to speak so crudely.

“I’m unharmed.” Kayli sent the assistants a look to quiet them before bestowing an encouraging smile on Michael. “Would you like to stand?”

“I can’t—” The words dropped off. Going pale with shock, he gazed down at his body—and blinked. “Christ almighty, woman, I’m naked.”

So she had noticed.

So she had
felt
.

Flustered, hot-faced, and shaky, Kayli nodded at an assistant, who hurried to retrieve a covering. “Your clothing was not designed to withstand the rearrangement of molecules during transportation, as mine is. Likely it was destroyed in transit.”

Mallet didn’t hear her. He was too busy staring fixedly at his legs, or more to the point, the lack of scars on his legs.

With heavy precaution, he pushed up on one straightened arm. Over his entire body, muscles flexed and bunched in an impressive display.

Kayli did her best not to gawk, but she’d never seen, never even imagined . . .

Again the assistants murmured.

With a large hand flattened on the floor, Mallet bent one leg, paused with his breath held, flexed it, bent, straightened it again. At the lack of agony, he sucked in his breath and turned to Kayli with so much hope, her heart melted.

“Yes,” she whispered, so happy to be the one to tell him. “It’s as I said—your body is healed and whole again.”

Michael’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he audibly swallowed. Slowly, he rose to his feet. “They’re gone.”

The assistants, all very capable, scurried back from the breadth and height of Michael as he gained his feet. Awe and alarm widened their eyes, making Kayli wish that, for this instance alone, she hadn’t given them so many emotions.

Gently, she asked, “The scars?”

“The pains.”

Yes, of course. Just because he hadn’t complained didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered. Michael was a warrior, a man conditioned to take great agony without ever giving voice to the pain.

She touched his arm and encountered tensile strength and incredible power. “I’m happy for you.”

He took two steps and turned, watching the movement of his legs, the flexibility and strength, and a slow grin brightened his expression. “I feel . . . fine.”

He looked fine, too. Very fine. Never had she imagined a man such as him. Yes, he was bigger, but that only covered half of it. His muscles were so delineated that each small movement sent them into an impressive display. The simplest gestures showed inspiring power. Even the way in which he held himself, with so much confidence and attitude, was in stark contrast to what she was used to.

She’d dropped him into a totally unfamiliar time and situation, and still he looked ready to take charge of them all.

“Hell,” he said with an ear-lifting grin, “I feel
great
!”

His infectious good mood had her smothering her own grin. The time was inappropriate to excesses of glee, for her at least.

After accepting the robe from an assistant, Kayli glued her attention north of his broad shoulders and held it out to him. “I’m glad that our exchange pleases you.” Repaired health was the least she could give him for his upcoming aid.

“Well, yeah.” He paid no mind to the proffered covering. “I mean, I must be nuts to be buying into this, but who gives a damn?”

His comfort at being naked before an audience of strangers astounded her. The members of her colony considered modesty a most-important virtue—and Michael obviously had none.

“Sir?” Unwilling to get close enough to touch him again—or have him touch her as he’d already done—she thrust the robe toward him insistently. With any luck, he’d take the not-so-subtle encouragement to cover his nakedness.

Instead, he used her extended arm as a leash to snag her, and then haul her in close. Her mouth dropped open as he scooped her up against his body, against all that hot male flesh. Against her protests, he swung her in an exuberant circle. Her flying legs made the assistants duck out of the way.

Laughing aloud, he shouted, “Kayli, love, I can stand on my own!”

“Michael, please!” Blushing to the roots of her fair hair, Kayli braced against his inflexible shoulders and glanced at her assistants. They all stared back at her with indulgent if astounded humor.

This display amused them?

Lower, near his ear, Kayli insisted, “You
must
show some decorum.”

Michael brought his face close to hers and, in a low rumbling growl, he said, “I’d rather take you to bed.”

A flash of heat left her mute and unseeing. She shook her head to clear it. “What? No!”

He nuzzled her jawline. “Why not?”

He had to stop saying such outrageous, impossible things to her. “I’ve already told you,” she whispered in a rush. “It is forbidden for me.”

Leaning back to see her, he smiled and said, “Yeah, well, as the almighty chosen one, I’ll have to change that now, won’t I?”

Chosen one? Doing her utmost to gather her composure, she pushed him away. Instilling much gravity into her voice, she said, “
First
, you must cover yourself. I insist.”

His smile spread with insidious good humor. “I think it’s adorable when you take charge.”

She had to ignore that. She was a warrior, a respected member of her colony; there was nothing adorable about her. “And,” she continued, unwilling to reply to his comment, “I need to orient you to our colony and the time period. I must show you your new surroundings, help you become acclimated to your new environment—”

“That’ll wait.” He hugged her tight again, and there was nothing she could do about it without engaging in actual combat. “Right now, I just want to celebrate with some good lovin’.”

Nonplussed, Kayli shoved back yet again, this time as far as she could, and stared at him. How was it that she continually found herself flattened against him?

She tried to ease the press of her lower body against his, but with one arm around her waist and the other scooped just below her bottom, he kept her snug to him, forcing her to feel every extraordinary inch of his maleness—and there were . . . several inches.

“Now don’t faint,” he teased. But he did ease his hold just a bit.

It didn’t help, not when her wiggling attempts to escape him only added new heat to his vibrant blue eyes and an intensity to his entire mien that bespoke male interest in the extreme.

Kayli sucked in needed oxygen. “You are very quick to be accustomed to time travel.”

“Nah.” He put his forehead to hers and stared into her eyes. His breath was warm, his look warmer. “I just figure I’m dreaming or hallucinating or something. Whatever it is, I want to make the most of it before I wake up.”

He still didn’t believe her?

Dismay all but flattened her. She’d already transported him. He was in her vessel. What more could she do to convince him? “Sir . . .”

Another voice intruded, this one so strident it had the power to snap the mood and gain everyone’s attention. “Kayli!”

Wincing in dread, Kayli stiff-armed Michael. “You must release me.
Now.
”

Before she could free herself, the voice continued with icy censure. “How dare you behave this way? Kayli Raine, this is not how you were raised to represent me. This is
not
how you serve your colony!”

From bad to worse. “Of course. I was just—”

“I won’t hear your excuses, young lady, because there are none. This is a most inappropriate time for such displays of impropriety. As you well know, the day of our next sacrifice approaches.”

His eyes narrowing at the censure, Michael loosened his hold and turned to her mother. Gloriously naked, he asked, “And just who the hell are you?”

 

 

SO cheerful that he wanted to whoop, to do cartwheels and kicks and then carry Kayli off for some very private one-on-one celebration, Mallet barely held himself in check.

That is, until the pinch-faced broad showed up, and all the joy sucked out of the room as if her cold presence freeze-dried all happy emotions.

Given how Kayli squirmed beside him, any dope could figure out that she was horrified. Mallet disliked that most of all.

“Mother,” Kayli said, “I can explain.”

“Mother?” Mallet looked at the woman more closely. She looked to be a well-preserved forty-something, old enough, he supposed, to have mothered Kayli, if she’d gotten an early start at that sort of thing.

The coloring differed, with Kayli blond and hazel-eyed, and her mother dark-haired with striking blue eyes. Still, he saw a resemblance in the stubborn chin and high cheekbones, the shape of the nose and arch of the eyebrows.

But where Kayli was lean and lithe, her mother was voluptuous. The older woman spilled curves, attitude, and indignation.

For many reasons, not the least of which was how she’d spoken to Kayli, Mallet disliked her on sight. “So that’s her, huh? The head honcho?”