My Man Michael (21 page)

“That is my home.”

“No kidding?” Figured she’d have the grandest place around. Mallet made note of the long, paved walkway, the ornate door and steps, the flowery landscape. No driveway, but then, what they drove here didn’t require driveways. “Pretty fancy.”

“Yes.” Her jaw tightened. “I’ve worked hard for what I have, Michael.”

Ignoring that, Mallet appeased his curiosity with a question. “Kayli got a house? Or does she just live on her spaceship?”

“Spaceship? You mean her vessel?”

“Yeah.” Thinking of her forever in that pile of cold metal—as amazing as the spaceship might be—didn’t sit right with him. “Is that where she lives?”

“Kayli has a home. A very lovely home.” Turning her head, Raemay studied him with interest. “She hasn’t yet shown it to you?”

“No.” And that made him wonder why she hadn’t. Did Kayli want to keep him on the spaceship to ensure a forced distance in their personal life?

God knew, with him at one end and her at the other, unless he got Hauk to transport him, it’d take nearly an hour just to reach her.

“I would have thought . . .” Raemay barely bit back a smile of satisfaction. “That is, if you’re to form a union, it’d only be right for her to share with you. I know she’s proud of her property.”

“We’ve been busy.” Mallet kept all inflection out of his tone. “Where is it?”

Pointing to a quaint cottage on a much smaller plot of land, Raemay said, “Over yon.”

Mallet looked, and . . . “Huh.” It was a cute little house, about a fourth the size of Raemay’s. Nicely landscaped, with plenty of trees, very tidy but otherwise . . . plain. It was white, like most of the houses, but with a red tile roof and arched wooden door. He recalled the simplicity of her room, and pondered his perceptions. “She’s not into fancy, I take it.”

“If you knew Kayli as well as you think, you’d know that she’s highly opposed to ostentatious displays.”

Because that sounded too much like a slur, Mallet said, “Unlike her mother?” When Raemay only tightened her mouth and frowned, he let that go. For now. “I like it. It’s quaint.”

“Yes, it is.” Raemay continued to look at the house. “You should understand, Kayli is not limited in her means. But she fell in love with the place.”

“Why?”

A surprised laugh escaped her. “I asked her the very same thing. She told me that she would not get lost inside.”

Mallet knew Kayli hadn’t meant figuratively. Her spaceship was so big, with so many corridors and rooms and subrooms, that a person
could
feel lost wandering around the interior.

Harking back to Raemay’s earlier comment, Mallet asked, “What makes you think I plan to interfere with Kayli’s duties?”

That had her laughing again. “You’ve created quite the reputation in the short time that you’ve been here.”

Couldn’t deny that. But then, he was from the past, and that was enough to shake up anyone. “Sometimes an outsider sees things you can’t. You get caught in the circle and can’t see your way out of it.”

“You think I’m caught in this circle?”

“Maybe.” Again he looked at the beautiful sky. “I didn’t set out to interfere, Raemay. Mostly I just want to give a new perspective to things.” The same way Kayli had given him a new perspective on just about everything. His body, his health, his life.

Love.

Before Kayli, he’d never really pondered the future because fighters lived fight to fight. If you won, you went forward with more training, more diet, more prestige, and money. If you lost, it was back to the gym, studying tapes, honing moves, refiguring angles and strategies.

Long-term plans were foolish.

Now, without a single sanctioned competition in sight, his future looked more promising than he’d ever imagined. It was a future with Kayli, and it was brighter and more optimistic than that near-perfect sky.

Raemay laced her hands behind her back and paced in front of him. Her slipper-covered feet crushed dewy blades of grass and filled the air with a freshness Mallet had always associated with spring. He had a feeling that here, in this place, spring happened year-round.

“We seem to be conversing in a more general tone now.”

He acknowledged that with a grin. “Beats scrapping, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” She firmed her mouth again. “For that reason, I hesitate to press you.”

But she wasn’t hesitant enough to let it go, he noticed. “Let’s get it over with then.”

She inclined her head in a show of assent. “The problem, sir, is that many of the ladies here are discouraged. You appeared to make your choice so precipitously, and in such an unorthodox manner.”

God, he was tired of that tune. “But my choice
is
made, so what is it you want, Raemay?”

“I want us to work together.” She stopped pacing in front of him and put her head back to look into his eyes. “I spent the night thinking on what you’ve said, the decisions you’ve made.”

A fancy butterfly, larger than any he’d ever seen, flitted by. It almost landed on Mallet’s shoulder, then took flight again. “About Kayli, you mean?”

She frowned at his distraction. “Contrary to what you might think, Michael, I adore my daughter. I’m proud of her and her contributions to our colony. Almost as proud as I am of my own contributions.”

She admitted that her own feelings came above her daughter’s? He shouldn’t be surprised. “At least you’re honest about it.”

She flushed. “I’ve worked hard for my colony and for my family. I won’t be ashamed of taking satisfaction in success.”

“Guess not.”

“Yesterday, you won over many of my people.” Puzzled by that, she again paced. “Before your speech, the men had seemed so content to remain secure within our boundaries, protected so that we could ensure the continuation of our people.”

“I’ve thought about that, too.” At a loud chirping, he looked up to see a fat orange bird perched on a limb above his head. It seemed prudent to move. He had no idea what type of droppings futuristic birds might produce. “The way I figure it, men are men, no matter the time period they live in.”

They began walking again, heading down the center of town. Some people waved. Others watched with curiosity. Raemay seemed to know them all and greeted them with kindness.

“I might not be up on the twenty-third century, but I did my history lessons like everyone else in my time. Historically, men are aggressive and protective. Unless you’re putting some sort of passivity chip in their noggins, it goes against basic male instinct to sit back, excluded from risk, while women put their necks on the line. It’s just not natural.”

“Given your . . . colorful colloquialisms, I sometimes have difficulty following your reasoning. This time, however, I believe I get the gist of it.”

She wanted plain speaking? Fine. “You had your guys brainwashed.”

“Brainwashed?”

Mallet saw some children playing with a floating ball. Out of the ten children, only one was a boy. It was clear that they had some issues with getting more males into the colony. Mallet felt sorry for that kid. The girls were squealing, teasing, sometimes clustered together to whisper. And the boy obviously just wanted to play.

Venus and Mars, he thought with a smile.

At first, he thought the noise came from the cluster of kids, but the farther they walked, the louder it got. It came from somewhere at the outskirts of the colony hub.

Curious, he continued on in that direction. “Yeah, brainwashed. You convinced them to your way of thinking without them even realizing that they’d been swayed. Tell a person something often enough, and they start to think it’s their own idea.”

Which, he figured, was what she did to Kayli. She’d convinced her daughter that she was a warrior, and now Kayli believed it.

Frustration, maybe a hint of irritation, chased away some of Raemay’s congeniality. “I see. Brainwashing.” Her brows lifted with disdain. “You don’t harbor a favorable opinion of us, do you?”

He didn’t, not so far, but Mallet kept that thought to himself. “When you get the women on board, and they start laying down the rules—and withholding from anyone who doesn’t follow their rules—well hell. Those poor male schmucks didn’t stand a chance.”

“Withholding . . .” His meaning sank in and Raemay scowled darkly. “I assure you, it was never our intent to manipulate—”

“Yeah, maybe not a universal plan. But that’s been a historically proven method, too. Since the beginning of time, women have used sex to get their way.” He grinned, shrugged with an admission of his own. “And let’s face it, men have let them.”

They turned a bend in the town walkway and Mallet found himself facing a field of battling men and women. Because of Kayli’s bright blond hair, he spotted her right away.

Standing on a platform, back rigid and shoulders straight, she shouted at them all.

And was ignored.

Raemay held out a hand. “You see what your new decree has caused? Families in turmoil. Men and women in dispute. Chaos within a normally peaceful colony.”

“Like hell.” One guy stepped up to the platform to shout at Kayli—and Mallet saw red.

All his training came to the fore. He didn’t get enraged, no, not that. Whenever he fought, he did so with a clear head and the intent to counter any and all moves.

He went cold with deliberation; no one would rage at his woman.

Without even thinking about it, he broke into an agile sprint, heading straight for Kayli.

He didn’t have to plow his way through the crowd; they parted for him as if sensing a tornado ripping through. With every step he took, his instincts gained ground until he was reacting purely on basic male protection mode.

Reaching the offensive guy in less than fifteen seconds, Mallet grabbed the arm he had outstretched toward Kayli—and tossed him.

The bellowing man landed on his back with a loud thump, causing men and women alike to scatter. Mallet wasn’t breathing hard. He hadn’t strained himself in the least. He stood there, waiting to see what the guy would do, if he’d have the sense to stay down.

All turned to see what had happened; little by little, silence settled over the field.

Standing there, hands on his hips and determination still ripe, Mallet waited until he had their undivided attention. When all stared at him, he joined Kayli on the platform.

One glance at her and he saw her narrowed eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

Uh-oh.

Too late, he remembered Raemay’s warning: Kayli would not appreciate his interference.

Damn. Hoping to remedy things, he looked out at the crowd, raised a hand, and said, “Your Claviger has something to say to you. How about you all shut the hell up and listen?”

CHAPTER 11

K
AYLI felt the shock in the crowd as vividly as she felt their awed stares. Some had met Michael already, but many had not. Judging by their expressions, his powerful, take-charge manner had diverted their arguments.

Off to the side of the confusion, she noted her mother’s look of smug displeasure.

Her once-simple world was now so complicated, she could barely keep her thoughts straight. And it was all because of Michael.

When he’d first come charging through the crowd, she’d assumed he would embarrass her by robbing her of credibility, by taking over.

Instead, he calmly tossed the irrational man blasting her with his displeasure, then turned and deferred to her.

She was still flummoxed by his display. In her colony, men did not throw other men.

And yet, Michael had made it look so effortless that she knew she’d made the right choice in him.

“You have their attention, babe, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. If you’ve got something profound to lay on them, I suggest you get to it.” He put his hand to the small of her back, caressed lightly. “Or would you rather I knock a few heads together first?”

Was he . . . serious? It appeared so.

Forcing a smile for the crowd, Kayli said, “A moment, please.”

She pivoted, giving the assembly her back, and dragged Michael a few feet to the rear of the platform. This was the second time she’d found it necessary to seek privacy with him, in front of an audience.

Ready to set him straight, she looked up at him, and he gifted her with the cheekiest, most endearing smile she’d ever seen.

It made her knees weak and obliterated her resolve.

In a flash, she remembered that heated kiss, the touch of his tongue, his taste. If Idola hadn’t interrupted them, what might she have done?

After
Idola had interrupted, what had he done?

When she just stood there, Michael said, “Seeing you in take-charge mode is a turn-on. Confident women are so sexy.”

Sexy? Is that what he truly thought? With his experience, he had to have known many attractive women—not that she wanted to ponder that too much. So far she’d managed to keep most thoughts of him with other women from her mind—but it got more difficult by the day. “I’m sorry, Michael, but you can not just bully your way into our assembly.”