Parallel Heat (21 page)

She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘‘You don’t deserve to know.’’ She put her back to him, slowly hiking away.

Suddenly all the sacrifices, all the Madjin ways, shattered into nothing. He caught up with her easily and, clasping her arm, spun her to face him. ‘‘I’m a virgin,’’ he told her softly. ‘‘I wasn’t lying about that.’’

‘‘You’re telling me that now because . . . ?’’ She made a rolling motion with her hand, urging him to fill in the blank. It was hard to believe how jealous Marco had become. Was he grappling for her trust, was that it? Or did he feel genuinely repentant for his unearned possessive streak?

‘‘Because I do want you, Thea Haven. So damn bad it’s killing me.’’ He raked both hands through his black, thick hair until it stood on end, disheveled and sexy. ‘‘The feelings—these emotions—Gods help me! It’s an avalanche and I’m getting buried here.’’

She planted a hand on her hip. ‘‘Then why don’t you
do
something about it?’’

Clouds of breath formed between them as he struggled to breathe. Watching her—thick blond curls shimmering in the moonlight, tight little figure outlined by her uniform pants—actually led him to one thought: He would drop her right here on the trail and possess her, just like he’d told her. And he would allow her to possess him, his vows be damned to hell—and their class differences be damned to hell too. He took a step closer toward her, touching his abdomen with his open hand. He knew all about her core self, the one made of fiery, golden energy—that had to be the explanation for the inferno building within his body. It was beyond desire; it was palpable heat.

He took another step closer, ready to take her completely, when there was the sound of a car on the highway along the perimeter. Instantly, he stopped, turning from her as he grabbed his binoculars.

He stood watching the eerie glow of the fading headlights, and guilt engulfed him—terrible, agonizing self-blame because this little indiscretion might easily have cost them all their lives. He’d just compromised a security patrol because he’d been unable to control his mating urges. He stood, his back toward her, drawing in uneven, burning breaths. Slowly, he turned to face her, and knew exactly what he had to say.

He stepped toward her quickly, pushing her until she stood with her back still against a tree, panting raggedly. The way they affected one another was unbelievable . . .
insane.

‘‘Thea,’’ he began quietly. ‘‘This cannot happen.’’ His voice was firm, his words final. ‘‘It will only lead to danger for all of us, don’t you see?’’

She shook her head in silent disagreement, and he swore tears pooled within her large eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her. Gods, it was the last thing he wanted. ‘‘In the chamber, Thea? I saw things. New things, not just the memories of you and me. I’m dangerous. You’re right about that. I’ve done bad things . . . or could do bad things, I guess,’’ he blurted, reaching to touch her hair. ‘‘You make me half crazy, and I’m not sure that’s good. Not with what I’m capable of.’’

Her lips parted as if she were going to say something, but then she hesitated, simply regarding him for a long moment. Then, at last, she whispered, ‘‘What are you capable of, Marco—other than breaking my heart?’’

He winced, dropping his head for a moment. He longed to tell her of his betrayal. That he had—in this parallel universe or time—kissed their queen. Had apparently been in love with her. But he knew that to explain that, he would have to hurt Thea. ‘‘A bonding between us can only bring heartache in the end,’’ he explained, his voice incredibly thick with emotion. ‘‘Don’t you see that?’’

Her head jerked upward in obvious surprise, and only then did he realize what he’d let slip. ‘‘Who said anything about bonding?’’ Thea asked quietly, not mocking him, just genuinely taken aback. ‘‘Why can’t this just be something . . . casual?’’

That was what he wanted to say, but he could only stare at her, his heart hammering like a freight train. He had no idea how to answer her at all, and was grappling with some kind of explanation when his communicator beeped, piercing the silence abruptly.

He punched the button on his forearm. ‘‘Marco, you need to get back right now,’’ came Sabrina’s voice over his mobile unit. ‘‘We’ve tracked Lieutenant Dillon. We know where they’ve taken him.’’

He reached for Thea’s hand and began sprinting with her up the path. They’d just been spared a very painful moment, but he also felt they’d lost something precious in the process. They’d been at a crossroads, where the balance might still have swung either way—but this interruption had changed that irrevocably. Because he had no doubt that neither of them would ever let things explode so heatedly ever again.

Chapter Fifteen

Hope Harper was jarred awake by the sound of her bedside phone ringing. Reaching for it, she managed to knock a bottle of water on the floor and send her alarm clock flying halfway across her bedroom. ‘‘Damn it!’’ she muttered, cursing her bad eyesight as she pulled the receiver to her ear. Even in the dark, she should have been able to make out shadowy details because of her alarm clock light. Not anymore.

‘‘Harper.’’ She put on her professional voice; it was probably somebody from work.

Her supervisor said, ‘‘Morning, Harper.’’ Her first thought: She’d have to leave her very warm bed to deal with whatever was going on.

She heard him draw a breath, then hesitate. She sat up; she knew Robbie Chambers extremely well, and something big had gone down. ‘‘You need to get dressed and come on in,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘There’s a subject we may need your help with. Pull up everything you have on those intercepts once you get here.’’

Hope’s heartbeat sped up. ‘‘The subject’s Refarian?’’ she asked, her thoughts racing wildly, but her boss made no answer.

The receiver simply went dead.

 
The main cafeteria at Base Eight buzzed with soldiers and activity; Thea took her seat at a long table, choosing to dine alone. Usually she ate lunch in the main cabin, but she’d hoped to avoid Marco this way. The last thing she wanted was to spend a whole meal staring into the man’s beautiful, sexy eyes. But her dining choice wasn’t proving to be as peaceful as she’d hoped: Too many of her soldiers kept glancing her way, questions reflected in their Refarian eyes.

The rumors had been flying since Scott Dillon’s capture—this despite Jared addressing the troops last night. But since then they’d learned who had Scott, the US Air Force, and although they’d suspected as much, their latest intel hadn’t been put out to the troops just yet. So speculations were running rampant, which meant the ranks were looking to her for answers. She buried her nose in a strategy plan and refused to look up.

‘‘Why would a beautiful soldier like you be dining alone?’’ Marco asked from behind her.

Marco, you’re the last person I need right now,
she thought with a groan as he swung one long, lean leg over the bench to take a seat beside her. He slid his tray onto the table, assuming a very close seat on her right side.

‘‘I thought we reached an agreement last night.’’ She didn’t turn to face him, but instead focused on the strategy manual in her left hand.

When he spoke again, his voice was less cocky and flirtatious, gentle even. ‘‘I wanted to apologize,’’ he said softly. ‘‘If you’d let me.’’

‘‘No need to dine by my side to do that.’’

‘‘Would you please look at me?’’ he implored, reaching beneath the table to touch her hand. ‘‘Thea, please.’’

Slowly, she turned on the bench until she found herself staring into those arresting, languid eyes of his. Eyes that spoke of sex and fantasy and thousands of other things he always made her desire. Things he’d made it clear she could never have.

She closed her eyes, gave her head a slight shake, and forced herself to focus. ‘‘. . . whatever this is,’’ he was saying, ‘‘it seems to be a force beyond us both.’’

Training her eyes on him again, she gave a half nod. For the first time she noticed what silky, thick eyebrows he had. Not like he was some sort of wild
gnantsa
from the jungles—that kind of bushy eyebrows never turned her on in a man—but his were dramatic eyebrows, arcing with a wide grace. She had the unshakeable urge to lift her fingertip and slowly outline the left one, just tracing it from side to side.

‘‘It’s a force all right,’’ she agreed,
forcing
herself to look into his eyes, not at his elemental beauty.

‘‘And I’m not sure it was a particularly good thing, what happened in the mitres, Thea,’’ he continued, reaching for a bottle of water and tilting it back for a chug. A rivulet of the liquid spilled onto his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. She had a flashing desire to reach up and lick it away with the tip of her tongue, tasting him as he had already tasted her skin. With a quick sniff, she stole a bit of his scent. The earthy, tangy smell of it caused gooseflesh to form all over her body.

He leaned back a bit, his eyes narrowing and that damnable sideways smile spread across his face, forcing his single dimple to pop into view. He knew! He’d caught her scenting him, which only proved what a farce this whole ‘‘controlling the force of nature that’s compelling us together’’ thing was all about!

‘‘Was it nice?’’ he teased her, the smile widening.

‘‘My lunch?’’ she deflected, facing forward again to avoid him altogether. ‘‘Delicious. Commander Bennett always feeds us well.’’

‘‘My scent, Thea.’’

Her face flushed violently, her jaw tensed, but she made no reply. For his part, Marco bent close, pretending to examine the strategy journal she held before her; he lifted it from her hand—any observer would have interpreted the maneuver that way—but managed to dip his face much closer to hers. Close enough to catch her own scent.

‘‘Yours certainly is,’’ he pronounced, releasing a slow, powerful exhalation of breath against her cheek. ‘‘Wildflowers.’’ He sighed again. ‘‘You’ve given me a massive hard-on.’’

She slammed both hands on the table. ‘‘You are being totally unfair,’’ she said, thankful for the din of Refarian voices filling the cafeteria. ‘‘You sat down, claiming you wanted to apologize—and then, next thing I know, you’re talking about your ever-loving
strka
!

“You’re the one who scented me,’’ he reminded her with a light laugh.

‘‘That doesn’t matter,’’ she protested, though admittedly he had her there. She had gotten this particular session rolling herself. She swung one leg over the bench so that she faced him fully. ‘‘Look, I’m onto your game, Marco. You’re all about ‘Come close, I’ll push you away’,’’ she said. ‘‘Or it’s ‘Stay away and I’ll keep coming after you until you
let
me get close.’”

A deep scowl furrowed his eyebrows. ‘‘Am I really that bad?’’

‘‘You are! And I can’t live this way, so please’’—she extended her hands in a pleading gesture—‘‘just stay away. Keep your distance, and leave out the part where you keep trying to get closer. That’s the only way I can handle being near you—since I’m stuck with you. Unless you can send another hellishly handsome Madjin to take your place.’’

‘‘No,’’ he said with a grudging smile, ‘‘I’m it. You’re stuck, like you say.’’

‘‘Then just keep away from me—and take all your damnable memories with you too. I don’t want them plaguing my mind another minute.’’

‘‘Thea, I have nothing to do with what you keep seeing,’’ he told her as she rose to walk away. His eyes tracked with her, locked on her intently. ‘‘I may be intuitive, but I can’t make anyone see things.’’

She shook her head, reaching for her tray. ‘‘I’m not an imbecile,’’ she told him hotly. ‘‘I do realize you’re not causing them, but I wish they’d stop. They’re making my heart hurt and my body fevered while you—apparently—have no intention of acting upon them.’’

‘‘Sit down, Thea,’’ Marco half begged, staring up into her eyes. He’d waited hours for this chance, had followed her down from the main cabin in hopes of just a moment of time alone with her. And he had intended to apologize, that much was true, but his motives had also been far more complex: He’d needed to be with her. Ever since their kiss on the trail, it seemed that things inside his heart had intensified multifold, always leading back to her innocent question:
Why can’t this just be something . . . casual?

Thea’s jaw tensed as she clearly deliberated about sitting down again. He reached for her forearm, urging her downward onto the bench. He had to tell her the truth. If she didn’t know now, he might never find the courage again. ‘‘Only for a moment,’’ he promised. ‘‘You won’t have to tolerate me for longer than that.’’

Her shoulders slumped in frustrated surrender and she dropped her tray back onto the table, slowly sinking onto the seat. ‘‘All right,’’ she told him, her jaw flexing angrily. ‘‘I’m listening, McKinley.’’

Gathering his thoughts, he tried to center the swirling emotions battling for dominance inside of him. The memories of her were coming so fast and hard now, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to simply fall in love with her. For he had loved her, in that other time. Maybe he’d never fully admitted it to himself, but it had at least come close to love. Carefully, he reached for her hand where she braced it on the wooden bench frame, covering it with his—his movements as circumspect and cautious as if he were approaching a skittish mare.

‘‘I need to tell you something, Thea. Something I wanted to tell you the other night on the trail—and didn’t.’’

She nodded, her blond eyebrows knitting together seriously.

‘‘You asked why we couldn’t just get together and have something’’—he hesitated over her word choice because it still hurt him—‘‘
casual
. That was the word you used.’’