“I have to wonder how long these effects will last,” Liliana said before pushing away from the microscope and swiveling the
stool to face Carmen.
“How did Jesse’s bone marrow respond to the inhibitor?”
Carmen shrugged, but Liliana behind that simple action, knew there was serious concern.
“Carmen? What’s up?”
Her friend avoided her gaze, forcing Liliana to bend and insinuate herself into Carmen’s line of sight.
“The inhibitor stopped replication. All replication, not just the bone-forming cells,” Carmen advised.
Liliana sat up, gripped her thighs, and stroked her hands back and forth as she considered the report. If the inhibitor blocked
all
cell growth in Jesse’s marrow, it also affected red and white blood cells, platelets, and a number of other processes regulated
within his bones. Fat and mineral storage, detox, and blood pH balance could all be affected.
Lethally affected.
“So we won’t be able to use this version of the inhibitor on Jesse?” Liliana offered, and Carmen confirmed it.
“No, we won’t. We’ll have to find a different way to stop production of only the mesenchymal stem cells in the marrow,” Carmen
replied.
That prospect reduced Liliana’s concern, but not by much. Monkeying with those cells could still have detrimental effects
on Jesse’s muscles and cartilage.
“Do you have enough specimens to continue testing?” Liliana asked, worried about taking another bone marrow sample.
“I kept some of Jesse’s cells. Plus, I can order some artificial bone marrow that we can use for preliminary testing.”
“What about identifying the nature of the genes that have been mixed with Jesse’s?” Liliana questioned.
Carmen raised her forefinger and smiled. “Score one for us. Based on the DNA tests, we were able to confirm that one of the
nonhuman gene strands implanted in Jesse is the same one in Caterina. The amphibian genes—”
“Used to regenerate tissues in a way that’s identical to the original tissue,” Liliana finished for her.
Carmen placed the results of the DNA tests on the workstation table and motioned to the spikes created by the amphibian genes.
“If they’re using that gene to produce the stem cells, we may be able to target that specific gene and slow the process.”
“Get on it. In the meantime, I’m going to check in on Jesse. See how his injuries are doing,” Liliana advised.
“They beat him up pretty bad?” Carmen asked, a crease forming in her forehead with worry.
“Bruises. Nasty gash on his head and possibly a mild
concussion.” She picked up her journal with the notes she had taken and was about to walk away when Carmen stopped her by
shooting up her hand like a schoolgirl in class.
“You’re holding out on me. Something is going on,” Carmen said.
Even if Liliana had tried, she wouldn’t have been able to fool her friend. “I’m worried about Whittaker and his men. He’s
rubbed me the wrong way from the beginning, and now he’s got me totally worried.”
“Thank God,” Carmen said with a relieved sigh. “I know I’m not the best at reading people. I thought it was just me.”
“It’s not just you. I asked Ramon to check out Whittaker.”
Carmen nodded, and some of the tension in her body fled. “Thanks for keeping me in the loop about Ramon, but there’s still
more, isn’t there? Something you’re not saying?”
Liliana stared hard at her friend. Her best friend.
Carmen had helped her out during her problem with her ex-fiancé. Had offered support during a difficult time. Because of that,
she sat back down on the stool and placed her journal on the workbench.
Lacing her fingers together, she plopped her hands in her lap, glanced up at her friend, and said, “I think I’ve lost my objectivity
about Jesse.”
“Do tell,” Carmen said, eyes wide with surprise.
After expelling a long, hesitant sigh, Liliana did just that.
J
esse wasn’t in his bed when Liliana walked into the room.
Closing the door and locking it behind her, she glanced around the large suite and noticed that he was out on the balcony
that faced the beachfront. A strong wind was blowing westward, ruffling the shorter strands of his hair.
She hadn’t had a chance to tell him that she liked the change—the shorter hair and clean-shaven face.
She wondered if he had done it for her, which caused a skitter in her midsection, along with warmth farther below, that he
had cared enough to do it.
She had come to discover that about him. Despite all the tabloid gossip and bad-boy antics, he cared about others. Neighbors
and strangers. His sister. Mother. Possibly even the father who denied his existence.
Maybe even her.
She laid her hand over her fluttering stomach and hesitated at the French doors. He seemed distant, a solitary figure looking
almost lost against the vastness of the ocean before him.
Not wanting to intrude without welcome, she rapped on the glass of the door and waited for his reception.
He turned, his face grim and set in sharply chiseled lines. They relaxed somewhat as he saw her, grabbed the handle of the
door, and slid it open.
She stepped out onto the balcony, and he closed the door behind them.
The wind increased the chill of a day that was quickly fading to night. Intense reds and purples painted the sky, and the
ocean had darkened to slate gray with the arrival of night.
“Cold,” she said and wrapped her arms around herself. Even though she still had on her winter jacket, the wind seeped beneath
the wool, which made her wonder how he stood there in nothing but fleece sweats, braving the wind. Once again staring out
at the ocean. The white of the bandage at his temple a glaring contrast to his skin in the dim dusk.
“Aren’t you freezing?” she asked and patted her arms to try and generate some heat.
He hunched his shoulders, shot her a half glance. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
“I said I would. I needed to see how you’re doing.”
He gave another shrug, seemingly indifferent, except she sensed undercurrents beneath. Dangerous ones.
“I’m here. I’m alive. Consider your obligation fulfilled.”
A self-defense mechanism? she wondered. Push her away—push what he was feeling away—in order to keep from being hurt?
Only, as she had discovered after pouring her heart out to Carmen, it was no easy thing to keep him at bay. Somehow he had
touched her. Infiltrated those areas she had thought safe.
Trying to shore up her defenses, she beckoned toward
the medical bag she had dropped on the coffee table on her way to see him. “I’d like to make sure you’re okay. Have you had
anything to eat tonight? Are you hungry?”
Some emotion finally cracked the stern lines of his face. A hint of a smile and glitter in eyes that had gone to slate gray.
He took a long stride toward her, until barely inches separated them. Laying a hand at her waist, he bracketed her side with
it, sending her insides quivering.
Jesse glanced down at her, sensing the tremor in her body.
She was as aware of him as he was of her. At his touch, her gaze had gone wide, revealing eyes that were nearly black with
desire. When she moistened her lips, the last of his restraint disappeared.
He bent his head, whispered against her lips. “I’m hungry, but not for food.”
Then he closed the distance and kissed her. Dug his hand into her hair while he held her waist with his other hand. There
was a stutter, maybe a halfhearted protest against his mouth before she was answering his kiss, moving her lips against his.
Slipping her arms around his back to press him tight.
Over and over, their lips met until Liliana opened her mouth and invited him in.
He went willingly, lost in his emotions, needing so much more.
He slid his one hand to the buttons on her coat, undid them, and eased beneath the wool and her suit jacket to place his hand
on her side. Her body was warm, the cotton of her shirt slick beneath his palm as he trailed upward until he was cupping her
breast.
She moaned into his mouth. Needy. Hungry.
Unerringly, he shifted his thumb across the tip of her hard nipple. As he took it between his thumb and forefinger, she gasped
and pulled away from him.
“Jesse,” she said, and disappointment arose within him.
But then she said, “The bed’s inside.”
Sweet Lord,
he thought, swept her up into his arms, somehow one-handedly pried open the French door and closed it against the chill before
stalking with her to his bed.
He released her, allowing her to slide across his body as she returned to her feet again.
So many thoughts went through his head as she pressed along the length of him and ran her hand through the strands of his
hair. So many thoughts that suddenly came spewing from his mouth.
“Bruno—”
“Is downstairs eating.”
“He may come up after—”
“I locked the door on the way in.” She raked her fingers through his hair and gave a sexy half smile, but it turned into a
frown as her fingers encountered the gauze at his temple.
“They might have killed you,” she said, concern and anger warring on her features.
“They didn’t, and I’m here, wanting you.”
“Why me, Jesse? You must have had your share—”
He placed his index finger on her lips. “That’s in the past. I’m not that man anymore. Maybe I never was.”
Her gaze narrowed as she considered his statement but relaxed as she said, “Fame didn’t change the real you.”
“I lost the real me for a while, but I’ve found myself.
And I’ve found you,” he said, bent his head, and kissed her again, only the kiss was gentler this time, not as urgent, although
his need was just as great.
She opened her mouth, sampled the edges of his lips as she moved her hands to his shoulders. Shifted them across their broad
width and down his arms to his hands. Taking hold of them, she brought them to her waist and murmured against his lips, “Touch
me, Jesse.”
This time he groaned but didn’t delay. With Bruno down below, they might have little time together before he decided to come
up to check things out.
Hurrying, he removed her coat and suit jacket. She was already at work on the buttons of her shirt as he undid her pants,
lowered them, and she kicked them off.
As he rose, his erection bumped against her belly and she smiled, reached down, and stroked him through the fleece.
He sucked in a breath, nearly undone by the caress. She stroked him again and he realized there would be no leisure in their
loving.
Her shirt was undone, revealing a gap of skin down her center and the front clasp of her bra. With a quick twist, he released
it, freeing her full breasts.
He urged her toward the bed and she sat, then leaned back, the fabric parting to reveal more of her.
Easing between the V of her legs, he stripped away her bikini briefs and stepped into the gap.
She wrapped her legs around him, joining him to her center while he rolled his hips, shifting his erection against her, the
fleece creating friction.
Liliana skimmed her hands across his shoulders before dropping them down to the hem of his shirt. With him
helping her, he ripped off his sweatshirt, exposing his upper body.
He was beautiful, and the damage inflicted on his body failed to detract from it. Tenderly she ran her hands across the powerful
muscles in his arms and shoulders. Skipped down to run the back of her hand across six-pack abs before she moved to his chest.
A broad, powerful chest. It heaved with his breath beneath her hands.
“Liliana, I can’t wait anymore,” he said and rocked his hips against hers, more powerfully than before, stealing her breath
away. Yanking a shudder from her as his movements caressed her.
“Then don’t,” she answered.
He groaned once again, and the sound shook her with his need.
She loosened her hold on his hips for only a moment. Long enough for him to drag the fleece down over his erection.
She felt the tip of him, poised at her center.
Met his gaze and saw the need mingling with doubt and disbelief. Emotions she understood well, since she was experiencing
them herself.
But only for a moment, as with a flex of her hips, she accepted him. With a slow shift of his body, he completed the union,
burying himself in her depths. Filling her in ways that had nothing to do with the physical joining.
Above her, his body trembled as he held still, his gaze riveted to hers until he deliberately lowered his head. Paused close
enough that his breath spilled against her lips. Hesitating there, he seemed about to say something but managed to only utter
her name.
“Liliana.”
It was enough.
She raised herself that last inch, cradled his jaw, and kissed him. Kept on kissing him, her mouth opening on his, her tongue
tracing the edges of his lips until he reached down with his hand and cradled her breast. Caressed the taut tip with his fingers,
then increased the pressure to tweak her nipple, eliciting a strangled cry from her.
He pulled away then, his concern evident. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, it felt good.”
A sexy smile inched across his lips. “Maybe this will feel even better.”
He dropped his head down and replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting at the hard point of her breast. Each
action creating another deep inside. Down below between her legs her body responded, passion building.
She held his head to her and raised her knees, embracing his hips with her thighs. Earning a rough groan from him as that
motion shifted her body around him.
Jesse stilled and sucked in a breath as the wet and warmth of her surrounded him. He needed to move. Needed to possess and
be possessed, he thought, and finally rocked his hips to draw in and out of her.
A soft little cry escaped her lips, but as he peeked up at her, her enjoyment was clear.
Raising himself up on his arms so that he could watch her, he began to pump his hips, driving into her. Her body tight against
his. Wet with need. Hot.
So, so hot,
he thought, watching her deep brown eyes grow even darker.
Tracking the soft bob of her breasts that matched the movement of his hips.