The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

“I don’t know, this could become the height of Dragonus fashion.  It’s so…”

“Lara Croft goes to a State Dinner?”

“Exactly.”

Julia grinned, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Just the look I was going for.”

Mark leaned in close, pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Glad you’re safe, Wings.”

“That goes double for me too, Colonel.”

~*~

Julia waited her turn in the organized chaos of the post-battle infirmary.  She’d have been happy to wait anywhere else and return when the rush had passed.  After all, she had survived her first combat situation ninety-nine percent intact.  She rolled her eyes at the irony of an EMT who hated hospitals.  It wasn’t the sick or injured Julia objected to, but the unnamed chemical lingering in the back of her nasal cavity that caused her stomach to lurch.  Every hospital in existence used it.  Whoever manufactured the stuff had to be swimming in cash.

Mark leaned with an irritating air of nonchalance against the wall beside her.  He was the unrelenting force keeping her in her chair.  A flood of white-hot agony consumed her arm as she moved it; a hiss escaping through clenched teeth.  Okay, so maybe he had a point.  It wouldn’t do any harm to have it checked out.  She twisted out her elbow in an effort to see the damage for herself.  Barring a few streaks of dried blood beneath Hayden’s bandaging, there wasn’t much to see.  She rested her arm back across her chest and gripped her opposite shoulder, sighing as the angle took the edge off the simmering pain.

Now she’d found a bearable position, Julia noticed there were far more people in the infirmary than there needed to be. “Mark?”

He shrugged away from the wall and crouched next to her. “Yeah, Beautiful?”

The soft rasp of his voice was a balm to her scratchy temperament.

“It would help Lenti and her team if all the unnecessary Marines shipped out.” Julia nodded at the whole teams waiting with their respective injured. “Maybe one support person per patient?”

Mark stroked a hand over Julia’s head before approaching the nearest bed.  A quiet soldier to soldier murmur with each of the squads from their commanding officer and the infirmary gradually began to empty out; leaving ten or twelve seriously wounded, and the fifteen or so minor cases including Julia.

Doctor Peyton looked up when she realized she had room to move and thanked Mark with a nod and a smile, before returning her attention to the patient in front of her.

“Well done.” Julia grinned as he returned to her side like a compass finding its magnetic north.

“Thanks, you doin’ okay?”

“Nothing some food and sleep wouldn’t fix.”

She shifted to ease her numb ass and froze as the movement jarred her arm; white searing pain racing up her arm to her head.  The urge to vomit over her bare toes was strong as everything around her blurred into indiscernible shapes.

“Julia?”

Mark rubbed warm palms up and down her thighs.

“Your hands are nice and warm, and smooth…” She murmured, before her eyes rolled up in her head and Mark faded from sight.

“Julia!”

His panic filled her ears as she slumped, knocking him off balance and onto his ass; one arm tight around her back.

~*~

Her arm felt only partially there.  It was fuzzy around the edges, like a photograph out of focus; blurred and indistinct.  The rest of her was pleasantly heavy.  Julia wanted to bury deep into the warmth and darkness in her mind, and sleep – just sleep.  Instead, she climbed, slow and steady, toward the light of consciousness, until her eyes fluttered open.  Mark.  He held her right hand, his long fingers entwined with her own paler ones.  She stared at their hands, studying the similarities and differences, the way they looked together; the delicate slenderness of his wrist that invited a gentle stroking touch.

He was sleeping.  His eyes shut as he slouched in a twin of the plastic chair she had been sitting in earlier.  How much earlier, was anyone’s guess.  At some point he’d opened the buttons of his Nehru collar, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of dark chest hair; pulse beating steady beneath thin skin of his throat.  He must have sensed her eyes on him because he opened his; whiskey warmth still drowsy with sleep.

When he realized she was awake and looking at him, he leaped out of his chair and raised his free hand to brush the curve of her cheek.

“Doc, she’s awake!” He called over his shoulder, gaze flicking back to Julia.

“Hi.”

Mark grinned, a frown chasing in its wake. “You scared the crap outta me.”

“Sorry.” She stroked her thumb along the edge of his. “Rough day, reached the end of my rope.”

The tension eased from his shoulders and the corners of his eyes crinkled in tandem with an easy smile. “Understandable, I guess.”

“And how are we doing?” Doctor Peyton asked as she approached Julia’s bed, palmpod in hand.

Julia eyed her friend, fiddling with the neck of the scrub top she was wearing. “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me?”

“That was good work back there, by the way.” Doctor Peyton smiled, fingers entering updates on the tiny screen. “Fainting in an infirmary is a sure fire way to get a doctor’s attention.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that.” Julia ducked her head, red strands falling forward to hide the color rushing into her cheeks. “Not a fainter as a rule.”

Doctor Peyton nodded. “We debrided and dressed the wound, and you’re on codeine for pain, plus a broad-spectrum antibiotic to deter infection.  Give it a week without using your arm too much, and you’ll be fine.”

“Can I shower?” Julia asked, chewing on her bottom lip.  A shower would go a long way to restoring her to full strength; perhaps more so than food. 

Her stomach grumbled in noisy protest.

“Perhaps a sandwich first?” Doctor Peyton suggested and patted Julia’s thigh before moving on to her next patient.

Mark had moved to shoulder her weight before she had swung both feet over the side of the bed, arm braced tight and strong around her waist.  “Easy, Beautiful.”

“Yep.” She agreed as a wave of motion sickness swept over her.

To Julia’s apprehension, they took the relocator down the corridor from the infirmary and were back in their quarters before she had time to add
queasy
to her list of irritating symptoms.  It felt good to be back in the quiet of a space that had quickly become home.  Mark closed the doors with a thought and continued to walk the two of them past the bed to the bathroom, where he stripped first Julia then himself, and led them into the swirl of scorching water.

She sighed with pleasure and relief as her exhausted muscles began to unknot.  Mark’s hands caressed her body, magic soap bubbles chasing his touch over every curve and hollow.  She didn’t think she was capable of anything more, but his touch had the power to arouse her like no other.  Julia pressed her sudsy body against the length of him.  Mark’s eyes widening as his body caught up with hers.  He kissed her, palms cupping her jaw, the heat of his mouth drawing forth a groan of encouragement.

The tiles were icy behind her hot flushed skin as he pushed her up against the wall, boosting her up with strong hands under her thighs; spreading her wide and sliding in.  They belonged together, a perfect fit, and she clung to her lover, fingernails carving tiny crescents into the taut flesh of his shoulders as he claimed her; less kissing and more a sharing of panted breath.

He used his body to say how he felt. 
I was scared for you today, I can’t lose you. 
And she answered in kind, arching into all he offered; taking and accepting with the echo of his name lost within the sounds of her pleasure.

“Love you.” He groaned as he peaked, holding her tight against him as she took all he had to give with every pulsing squeeze of her body; held safe in his arms.

It took a while for her to come back to herself, mind and body humming with languid afterglow. “Love you too, my colonel.”

He chuckled, and hauled her into his body, lunged for her mouth, lips and tongue coaxing her open as if beginning anew.  Julia knew how he felt.  She loved kissing him, loved the way he poured all of himself into that one point of contact between them; luring her, encouraging her to fall, to trust he’d be there to catch her.

Eventually, they got dry.  Mark helped more than was strictly necessary, stroking and rubbing some places more than others, until she was panting for his touch on her heated skin and his hands shook with his need to have her again.

They had both survived the day.  It was cause for celebration, and their bodies thrummed with the instinct to connect.  He scooped her up, bridal style, and carried her to their bed, laying her on the blanket and following her down.

“Mark.” She pleaded; his name a soft whisper against the shell of his ear.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment then lowered his mouth to hers.  Julia kissed him with the same hunger, wrapping her legs over his hips and grunting as he shunted home.  She shifted in his grip, and he pinned her wrists above her head, ground tighter and harder; a reminder, a promise, that she was only too eager to arch into.

Julia woke with a feeling of time having left her behind.  Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, elongating the shadows.  She was alone in bed, Mark’s absence announced in stereo by the wide expanse of rumpled sheets where her colonel had lain.  Her heart gave a quick jump before resuming its usual rhythm; a sensation Julia chose to attribute to the memory of their love-making, and not the ordeal of the previous day.  She rolled over, sprawled luxuriously into the unoccupied space; and breathed in Mark’s intoxicating scent as she buried her face in his pillow.

The crackle of paper made her lift her head in search of the source.  Paper was rare on Phoenix.  Everyone EM’d, radioed, or carried palmpods.  Mark had used a sheet from her sketch pad, and in his efficient, barely legible scrawl, he’d written:

   
0800 debrief.

Eat, rest your arm, sleep

    Back soon,

     M x

Her eyes welled up and she whispered a grateful
thank you
to the universe at large.  Food could wait she decided as she snuggled into Mark’s pillow and drifted back into oblivion.

~*~

“So, basically, Garrett has no theories, other than they were testing our defenses in preparation for a larger scale attack.” Mark informed her as he paced the short distance from bed to door and back.

“Really?” Julia took another mouthful of the spaghetti and some-kind-of-meatballs he had brought back from the Mess Hall for her. “I subscribe to Major Dawson’s theory that they were trying to wipe out the world leaders while they were all in one place.”

Mark continued with his pacing, palm rubbing through his hair down the back of his neck and back up into soft black whorls, gaze fixed on the toes of his boots.

“If you disregard the worlds the guests represented, who is left?” She swigged from the bottled water, raising a finger to prevent him from saying anything before she swallowed. “But it could’ve been someone wanting to implement a coup.”

“Exactly.” He snorted. “And if we’re wrong and Garrett’s right, and they do come back with a full strike force, we’ll be caught with our pants down.”

She smiled as he continued to talk with his hands while he paced.  From her vantage point on the bed, the impression was one of a sleek and muscular black panther – all coiled strength, beauty and deadly power – constantly moving while a world he couldn’t touch, taunted him from beyond the concrete and iron bars of his suffocating cage.

“Have you eaten?” Julia asked, in an effort to get him to be still for even a moment.

“Grabbed some when I got yours.”

She put aside her empty tray and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re injured.” He waved his hand in the general direction of her bandaged bicep.

“I’m on pain meds, I’ve eaten, and I’ve slept.  I need to get out.”  She reasoned and raised an eyebrow in query. “Besides, the rest of me works well enough.”

Mark had the decency to duck his head and look bashful.

“Uh huh.” He whispered close to her ear. “The quay?”

“Definitely, I’ll be able to get some sun, and you can pace as much as you like.”

“Sounds good.” He laughed and gripped her elbow to help her to her feet. 

Julia pulled on her sweats and her black
Aerosmith
tee, the sleeves short enough to avoid the bandage. “Let’s go.”

They walked the length of the quay several times.  Julia felt a hundred times better outside with the sun warming her skin, and the breeze clearing her head.  Mark had calmed considerably, but still needed to be mobile.  At the end of another completed length, she sat down with her legs hanging above the water.

“Okay?” He placed his hand on her back before sitting down next to her.