Forged in Ash (31 page)

His arms loosened, but they didn’t let go. To Kait’s dismay, a flash fire started where his hot arms chained her. Intense heat radiated out from their point of contact, flooding into her abdomen and coursing down her legs. Her breasts went tight, her nipples drawn. The core of her went liquid and melting. This wasn’t the heat of healing. It was the unwelcome heat of arousal.

Something she had no intention of experiencing again.

Ever again.

At least with him.

His arms tightened again, drew her against his chest until she felt the hard, urgent beat of his heart against her back, and the insistent press of his erection against her lower back.

No. Way.

She stiffened. Acting on instinct she stomped as hard as she could on his left foot.

“Son of a bitch.” His arms loosened.

She twisted to face him and aimed for his crotch with her knee. He blocked the attack at the last second, taking the blow on his thick thigh, instead of his crotch.

“Jesus Christ,” he roared, letting go and stepping back.

Kait drew a shaky breath and tried for an unconcerned shrug. “I warned you.”

He glared back at her, dark red highlighting his cheekbones. She couldn’t tell whether it was the flush of arousal or anger. Maybe both.

After a couple of deep breaths, he unlocked his jaw. “It hasn’t even been twelve hours since you were released from transitory care, after your
last
healing. Don’t you think it’s a little soon to try
another
one?”

His voice sounded hoarse and gritty, like he was trying not to yell at her.

Kait stuck her chin up and glared right back—although he did have a point. Not that she was going to admit that to him. “And don’t you think it should be up to me to decide whether I’m up for another healing? I’ve had a lot more experience with this than you have.” She delivered the lie in her best it’s-none-of-your-business voice.

And hoped he didn’t pick up on the little fact that the healing in the parking lot had been a first for her—the first time she’d ever channeled so much heat, or so much energy, the first time she’d healed an injury in one session, and the first time she’d passed out. None of which he needed to know.

The red faded from his face, and suddenly he just looked tired. Swearing beneath his breath, he ran a hand through his hair and turned around to hobble toward the closest recliner.

He was limping much, much worse than he had been earlier.

Had she hit his knee when she’d gone for his crotch?

“I’m sorry,” she said taking a step toward him. “I wasn’t aiming for your bad knee.”

His short crack of laughter wasn’t amused. “No shit.”

It was Kait’s turn to color. Okay, possibly she’d overreacted.

“Anyway”—he eased down into the recliner and pulled the lever that lifted the footrest—“I should be apologizing, not you.”

His voice sounded as tired as his expression looked.

“There’s no need,” she said, shying away from the direction the conversation was headed. Instinctively, she knew he wasn’t talking about their altercation of a few minutes earlier.

“Yeah, there is.” There was dogged determination in his voice. The kind of gritty determination that came with completing an unpleasant task as quickly as possible. “Look, I’m sorry for that crack I made at your place, you know…after…well, after the—yeah.”

Kait’s lips twisted. He couldn’t even say it? The coward. “You mean the sex?”

Let him fumble around that.

He shot her a bad-tempered glare.

She braced her hands on her hips and stared him straight in the face. “When you called me a whore?”

He straightened in the recliner like she’d shoved a red-hot poker into his shorts. “What the…? I didn’t call you
that
.”

She raised her eyebrows and matched him glare for glare. “What do you call exchanging sex for services?”

“Ah hell.” Shame edged into his scowl. He opened his mouth and she could almost smell his contrition, could almost hear his coming apology. And then he scanned her face. Suddenly he frowned. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

She cocked her head and stared back. “Do I?”

His face softened and a hint of amusement touched his face. “Yeah, you damn well do. You’re just busting my balls.” He paused, and then added wryly, “Not that I don’t deserve it.”

She almost caved at his dry admission, but braced herself against the weakness.

“Finally, something we can both agree on.”

He settled back against the recliner, his lips quirking, and regarded her steadily. “You’ve got a serious mouth on you, anyone tell you that?”

There was a softness to the question she wasn’t expecting, a tone close to affection.

“Just Aiden and Wolf—” Which reminded her, she picked up her cell phone from the coffee table and tried Wolf’s number again. It went straight to voice mail.

Obviously her big brother was off…somewhere…and she had no idea when he’d be back. She was going to have to rethink her exit strategy from Cosky’s condo.

“Still no answer?” he asked, sounding oddly satisfied.

Frowning, Kait turned to stare at him. He was slumped back in the recliner, legs up, half asleep. She must have been mistaken about that odd tone in his voice. He had to be as anxious to get her out of his home as she was to leave. There was nothing more awkward than a one-night stand that dragged on past the one night.

Or in their case, the morning.

“I want you to know,” he said, and his silver gaze snared her eyes, so brilliant it was close to mesmerizing, “I’m sorry for what happened at your place. For the way things played out. For being such an ass.”

For the sex.

He didn’t say it, but it was clear.

Kait ripped her eyes away. “Forget it.”

“Kait—” he said, sudden tension in his voice, and the leather beneath him squawked as he sat up in the recliner.

Swinging away from him, Kait headed to the couch and took her previous seat beside Jillian. She didn’t want to discuss what a mistake those heated, heady minutes with him had been. Or at least, she didn’t want to hear him characterize them as a mistake. She didn’t want to hear him tell her they couldn’t happen again. She didn’t want to hear his list of excuses as to why he couldn’t be with her, when it all boiled down to one thing.

He didn’t want to be with her.

What she wanted was to pick up with her life and carry on, without the memory of him apologizing for not having feelings for her.

“Let’s just chalk it up to a massage that got out of control and
move on, shall we? No harm. No foul.” She laid her hands across her victim’s swollen, discolored eye.

The tension radiating from him morphed into disapproval, but this time he didn’t try to interfere.

As it turned out, there wasn’t anything to interfere with. After several minutes of sitting there, awkwardly twisted to the side and hunched over her reclining patient—nothing happened.

Not even a spark of heat. No hint of healing energy. Absolutely nothing.

Frustrated, she sat back. Maybe she’d burned herself out in the parking lot and needed some time to recharge. Or maybe Jillian just fell into the seventy percent she couldn’t help.

And then another possibility occurred to her. A worrisome possibility. What if channeling such extreme energy had burned her out completely? What if she’d fried the circuit in her brain or body that allowed the healing in the first place?

“What’s wrong?” Cosky asked.

“There’s nothing there,” Kait said slowly, the paranoia building hard and fast—could she have lost the ability completely?

He was silent for a moment. “Aiden said your ability didn’t work all the time. That you couldn’t help everyone.”

“Yeah, but—” She paused, briefly debated, and then shrugged. There was only one way to assure herself that she hadn’t lost the healing ability—and his participation was essential to her test—so he needed to understand her concern. “The healing on your leg yesterday, the one in the parking lot?”

His gaze narrowed and locked on her face. “Okay?”

“It wasn’t normal.” Rising to her feet she shoved her hands into the sides of her loose braid, and felt some of the strands pull loose.

“How so?” Cosky asked absently, his gaze locked on her hair.

“I’ve never channeled so much energy before. It’s never gotten so hot. For God’s sake my hands blistered, so did your knee.” She paused and dropped her voice. “I’ve never healed an injury in just one sitting before, either. And I’ve never passed out.” Her voice dropped even lower. “What if I burned the ability out? What if it’s gone now?”

With a shake of his head, he transferred his gaze to her face. “It’s more likely she isn’t someone you can help, or—you just need to recharge the energy. Maybe your ability is like a battery. You have to give it time to recharge after exhausting it.”

His gaze drifted back to her hair and took on a platinum glitter she found distracting as hell. She forced herself to focus. “I want to test it. See if it’s still there.”

He cocked his head and his face went still. The glitter in his eyes dimmed, suspicion taking its place. “How?”

Cosky was a smart guy; Kait was certain he’d already figured out what she was about to propose. “By doing another healing on your knee.”

“No.” The denial came instantly.

Oh yeah, he’d known exactly what she was going to ask.

“I
know
the ability works on you. If it works again, I’ll know it’s still there.”

“For Christ’s sake, Kait, you were burning up. Rawls had to use ice packs to get your temperature down.” He shoved the lever to the footrest down and jolted to his feet. “How do you know another healing so soon after the last—which you yourself characterized as abnormal—isn’t going to burn you out? How do you know it won’t do permanent brain or organ damage? It’s not worth the damn risk. Give yourself a couple of days.”

“I won’t do a full healing. I just want to see if it’s still there,” she said in her most persuasive voice. “I’ll stop immediately as soon as I sense it’s working.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“It could be the last chance I’ll have to do another healing on your leg,” she said, changing tactics. “Who knows how long it will be before I get back after Wolf comes for me.”

His lips flattened. Folding his arms, he planted his feet. “No.”

Okay…

She frowned; there had to be a way to convince him to let her try. She flashed back to Aiden after his spinal injury, to his frustration and fury with the shortcomings of his body, not because of what it meant to his own life, but because of what it meant to his team.

Because he’d felt like he’d let down his team.

The team. That was the key.

“Look, your leg’s a liability to your team right now.” When he flinched slightly, she knew she was on the right track. “You need to be as close to one hundred percent as possible.”

“We’re not on a damn rotation,” he growled back, his voice gravelly and hard.

But his argument lacked conviction, and Kait knew she’d found his weak spot. Without hesitation, she dug into it. What she was suggesting would benefit him anyway. There was no reason for him to be stonewalling her.

“You may not be on rotation, but you are in the middle of a battle,” she reminded him quietly, letting the weight of her words get to him instead of the volume. “Your team could have used you today.”

He went still, intense—his gaze focused inward.

“And what happens if Mac misjudged? What happens if this
Pachico ringer circles back? Attacks here instead of falling into Mac’s trap? Is your leg strong enough if you need to rely on it?”

He twitched at that. Swearing beneath his breath, he raked his hands through his hair and swung around to face her. “I’m carrying. We’ll have to rely on that.”

But then he swore again and threw himself into the recliner. From the frustrated anger on his face, she knew she’d won.

“Fine. You want to burn yourself out. Be my guest.” He watched her approach, sheer bad temper flashing in his eyes. “And don’t think I didn’t catch how you manipulated me there.”

She shrugged. “Everything I said was the truth. You wouldn’t be letting me try this if it wasn’t.”

He just glared back.

Settling on her knees in front of him, she pushed his sweatpants leg up, exposing a compression sleeve over his knee. Since she needed bare skin, the sleeve had to go. But it was too tight to roll up over his thigh, so she unlaced his boot and took it off, then rolled the compression sleeve down his hairy calf and off his broad foot.

An unwelcome tingling sparked in places she didn’t want to concentrate on. This felt far too much like undressing him. Her gaze drifted up his legs; the material of his sweats didn’t look nearly as loose in the crotch as they had before. And then she saw his hands clamp onto the armrests of the chair. His fingers turned white and dug into the leather.

The thick sultry charge of arousal crackled in the air around them. Her muscles tightened. So did his. The hair on her arms lifted. So did his.

Okay…this was obviously one of the stupidest ideas she’d ever had.

“Problem?” There was pure challenge in his rough, aroused voice.

Yeah, stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Not”—she paused to cough the huskiness out of her voice—“at all.”

She laid her hands on his knee, and heat instantly swamped her, which would have been reassuring, except it was the wrong kind of heat.

There was no gradual build to the hunger this time. Her body knew exactly what it felt like to have the hot, hard length of him lodged inside her. Exactly what it felt like to feel him on her and in her and driving her to the stars.

And it wanted to feel him again. Inside of her. On top of her. Wrapped around her.

Lust exploded, dragged her into an inferno of hunger, a fierce red mist that incinerated everything in its wake. Her reservations, her hurt, her caution—all were consumed by the eruption, until the only thing left was fervent need.

Raw urgency.

Heat swept up from her hands, into her arms and raced through her body in an electrifying, carnal flood, finally pooling in the throbbing, wet valley between her legs.