He’d been so arrogant, it hadn’t occurred to him that Mills would kick the shit out of his injured leg. He should have. He’d exposed that injury to the enemy on purpose, using it as an excuse to go into the water so Shevfield could make his try. He’d been so damned smug. Now, seeing the men he admired most, the men he thought of as his family, he could barely stand being in bed, the one they all had to rally around because he couldn’t take care of business himself. He wanted to be there for his woman, not have his family do it for him.
“We’re soldiers, babe. All soldiers take chances. You certainly have. I know that Whitney’s training exercises are often very lethal. You managed to escape and stay out of the sights of Whitney and any of his spies.”
“Why are you doing this?” There was hurt in her voice. “Did you need your friend to tell you that you shouldn’t try to exercise that leg yet because he’s male? A hotshot doctor? I told you and you just ignored my advice.”
He winced. He hadn’t looked at it the way she might. “My working the leg or not working it has nothing to do with Trap. I listened to you. And I’ll even admit, on some level I knew you were right. I just didn’t want it to be true.”
“Why?”
She hadn’t moved. She remained pressing her body against the door, her large blue eyes reflecting the light from the lamp by the bed.
“Baby, come here,” he insisted. He didn’t want to sound like a self-pitying wimp, and he would if he had to explain to her that he was jealous of his friends.
“I need to know what’s going on with you, Malichai. This isn’t easy for me. I thought we’d go back to the swamp and meet your friends one at a time, in a casual setting. They’re taking over my bed-and-breakfast. I’m not saying I’m not grateful for the help—I am—but they know more about what’s going on than I do. These are my guests. My friends. I feel responsible for them. Before, you listened to me. You talked to me. We were a team. Now, I don’t know what you’re doing or thinking, and I feel very lost.”
That was the last thing he wanted. “Please come here to me, Amaryllis. I’m feeling a little lost myself. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I’ve never had an injury that sidelined me at the worst possible time. There’s something . . .” He couldn’t put it into words, but something was really wrong with his leg. He could feel it. He knew the damage, whatever it was, wasn’t going away anytime soon—if ever—and he needed to be one hundred percent to help his team against this new, very elusive threat. Maybe he was doing what he always did, working harder, trying to focus his attention on healing his injury faster by working it. Pushing himself to get stronger.
“What is it, Malichai? Talk to me.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to lose you.” He just blurted it out. He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even wanted to think it.
She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “Malichai, that doesn’t make any sense at all. We’re already together. I made a commitment to you. You have to talk to me and sort out what you’re really feeling.”
“Then come over here.” He held out his hand. The anxiety in him was increasing, not decreasing. That part of him that always knew when something wasn’t right. It was all-encompassing now, swamping him. The urge to move, to throw the covers back and get up and start taking care of every problem was so strong he actually turned in the bed to drop his feet toward the door.
The movement galvanized Amaryllis into action. “Don’t you dare, Malichai.” She leapt across the room, proving immediately that she was definitely a GhostWalker. She crossed the room in one single jump, landing beside the bed and putting a hand to his chest to deter him. “I think you need to learn to verbalize, Malichai.”
That made him want to smile in spite of the churning in his gut, telling him something was off and danger was imminent. “I’m more of an action type.”
“You have the most unusual eyes, almost golden. At night they shine back at me. Sometimes, when you’re upset or worried, the shine becomes a glow and you look very dangerous.” She frowned and leaned in to rub the pad of her finger across his lips. “Like now, Malichai. You look like a very lethal predator.”
“Not to you, Amaryllis.”
“I know that. Honey, why would you think that you would lose me? It has something to do with your team showing up, and don’t try to tell me differently. You began to withdraw the moment they all began to call in saying they were here.”
He shrugged, deciding truth was better than deception. “I’m going to look whiny and jealous, but better you see now that I can be that way than much later when we’re married and we have a few dozen kids . . .”
“Stop.” Laughing, she pushed at his hip so he moved over, and she could sit on the bed with him. “You’re so crazy. Who in the world are you jealous of ? Please don’t say Trap. First, the man isn’t exactly filled with scintillating conversation and he’s very abrupt about his wife’s pregnancy . . .”
He loved her laughter and let it soothe him, but he didn’t want her to think Trap didn’t pay attention to his wife. “Trap adores Cayenne.” Still, he liked that she was annoyed with Trap. The man had money, was good-looking and had two good legs.
“He may adore her, honey, but to dismiss the fact that she might give birth any moment because there are doctors around is ludicrous. She’s counting on him and he’s thinking with some lofty part of his brain, not his heart. He needs to be her husband, not her doctor, who, by the way, has never actually delivered a baby out of his va-jay-jay so he needs to be just a little more thoughtful on the subject.”
Malichai stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. “I’m falling more in love with you every minute. I do have to agree with you there. Trap thinks she can deliver a baby and just go right on fighting in the jungle. He might get a bit of a surprise with this one.”
“So, stop worrying about me wanting to be with someone else, it’s ludicrous.”
“I don’t stack up very well against men who have two legs and can take care of the enemy while I lie in bed twiddling my thumbs.” He laid it out for her.
Amaryllis stared at him for a long time. Too long. His stomach dropped. She knelt up on the bed in front of him, framed his face with both hands and leaned in to brush her lips against his. Featherlight. The touch sent desire slipping into every cell in his body. Gently. A unique invasion. The sensation was so gentle, barely there, but every bit as impactful, craving building slowly but never stopping.
Then her teeth tugged at his lower lip. Her tongue slid along the seam of his mouth. He opened his mouth and she was there, pouring need and passion into him. Pouring something else that felt like love. He was so unfamiliar with that emotion that at first, he wasn’t certain what it was that surrounded him and lifted him up. That he chased after. That he craved.
His arms went around her, locking her to him, and he took over the kiss. He was rougher than he intended, but she was driving him insane with need. With the possibility that she really would choose him no matter what.
“Lose the panties, Amaryllis.” He kept kissing her, his hand in her hair, bunching it in his fist, making it difficult for her to comply, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep kissing her. Her taste, the one that sent that emotion rocketing through his body, moving through him to center in his groin, drove him beyond all sanity. He wanted her with every breath he took. He needed her right then even more than that.