Bayne (5 page)

She snorted. “The innocent look really doesn’t work on you, Bayne. Now behave yourself. I’m trying to concentrate.”

Not that she needed to. For all the blackened steel, there wasn’t as much damage as she feared. She grabbed a cloth and wiped the exoskeleton clean so she could double check, but aside from a few hairline cracks that needed soldering, it was mostly cosmetic damage.

Replacing the rewound spring and then the piston, Malia checked over everything one last time, then reconnected the wiring that would let him operate it. She watched with a growing sense of achievement as he manipulated his fingers and lifted his head to grin at her.

A wave of affection swamped her, leaving her frozen in shock.
Oh, crap.

Six

Bayne saw the blood drain from Malia’s face. She sat there, staring at him with wide eyes, her expression close to horrified. He glanced down at his arm again, but could see nothing amiss.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Malia—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “How’s the arm?”

He could have pushed the issue, but he doubted that he had the right. And he’d rescinded his claim on her, so lacked that leverage. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, evading the question. He gave a mental sigh and let it go. After all, he could hardly blame her for her distrust.

Watching his metal fingers clench and relax at a thought, Bayne considered the problem of what he’d done that first day and how he could possibly make amends for it. How he could show her that he was not someone she needed to fear.

She rose from the seat and packed away the tools. Her ability was not something he’d ever imagined her to have, but then they had not talked about their past lives. Not until today. She ought to be a mechanic at least, if not a technician.

“Why have you not trained as a tech?” he asked, curious.

“My father died a couple of years after my mother did. He had a wasting disease and no amount of doctors’ cures helped. My mother’s brother took me on, albeit rather reluctantly. He… never had much patience for a girl. He didn’t think I could do more than marry and bear children.” Her lips thinned as she locked the tool box, a tell-tale slash of color high on her cheeks. Without looking at him, Malia added, “I wasn’t worth any education, not even the basics.”

“You can’t read or write?”

Her glance was pained. “I can write you a shopping list of food my uncle likes.”

His heart ached for her and he felt even more of a heel. “Then I came along and made everything worse.” She hitched a shoulder, but didn’t deny it. Damn it, he needed to do something. “Come with me.”

Rising to his feet, he held out his good hand to her. She gave him a puzzled look but took it. He grinned and pulled her up, then tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her curiosity was almost palpable, but she didn’t ask. And he wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

Two decks down, Bayne activated the door on a room he knew hadn’t seen much activity for a while. He stepped in, Malia’s hand still on his arm, and the lights came on. He watched her face as she looked around, smiling when her eyes widened as she realized where he’d brought her. She turned those wide eyes on him and his stomach knotted.

“Bayne?”

“Anyone that can fix something as technical as my arm with only the knowledge they taught themselves has a talent that it would be foolish to waste.”

Her forehead creased, then her lips parted. “This is for me?”

“Indeed so. I can assign a couple of my technicians to assist you as well, if you would like.”

“If I would…” She shook her head, then turned to take in the laboratory again. “Bayne, this is so… so… oh, I don’t know! I don’t have the words. All I ever got was discouragement. No one ever gave me a chance before.”

“Then they are idiots.”

She laughed, coming truly alive for the first time since he’d taken her from Terranis. She glowed, a thrilling thing to witness. Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

“Thank you.”

Bayne stared at her. His pulse had jumped when her mouth touched his, still pounded hot and wild at the feel of her curves pressed against his body. Malia blanched when she realized what she’d done and glanced away, her hold loosening. He put an arm around her waist.

“Don’t,” he pleaded softly. “Malia…”

Her eyes lifted to his face. What filled him, he didn’t have a word for—more than want, purer than desire; he ached for her in a way no woman had ever made him feel. He touched her cheek with his good hand, stroking her soft skin with his knuckles.
Don’t push it
.

Not doing that was more than difficult. She wet her lips with a nervous flick of her tongue. A tremble ran through her, but she didn’t retreat further. Her eyes scanned his face, uncertainty flickering in their depths. He longed to urge her closer, but this had to be her decision and hers alone.

She leaned in, stealing his breath. Her body pressed against him while the only contact he made was his fingers on her cheek. His left hand clenched as he fought the urge to grab her hip. Moving his other hand, he brushed a strand of hair off her face and murmured her name again.

She kissed him. Light and rather tentative, but her lips touched his. Bayne closed his eyes and breathed her in; lavender with an undertone of lubricant. That made him grin against her mouth and she pulled back with a puzzled frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just… you don’t smell like other women.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s because I’m not most women, Bayne.”

“Damn, but I know that. I like that.”

She stared at him, probably wondering where that statement had come from—he’d not exactly been overt about liking her, or even considering her at all. He knew that as well, which is why he wanted to make it up to her.

Malia glanced at the lab, then back to his face. “All right,” she said, her voice softer and a gentle smile on her mouth. “I guess I can forgive you.”

“Will you kiss me again, then?”

Doubt clouded her face. “What are we doing, Bayne? This wasn’t the agreement.”

“I freed you from that, because… Well, because it was wrong, but also because…” He put his left arm around her waist and cupped her cheek with his right hand. “Because I want you to choose me, if that is what you want. I don’t want you out of obligation, Malia. Not again. Never again.”

“Grieves said I make you weak.” She leaned in nearer, but not close enough. “Was he right?”

He could only tell her the truth. “Yes.”

She looked a little startled, then managed a wry smile. “I think I could be similarly affected,” she admitted quietly. “When he shot at you, when I thought you were going to die… that mattered to me. I have no idea why.”

“I was just as concerned about you. I would have died before allowing him to hurt you.”

Her cheeks flamed and she dropped her gaze to his chest. “I’m nothing special.”

“I believe the contrary, and that is all that matters.”

“Promise me something?”

He raised her chin to look her in the eyes. “Anything.”

“Don’t… push me, Bayne. I need to control this, because… because I’m scared, to be honest. You can hurt me in ways you have no idea about, and I can’t let you do that. I barely trust you, and I sure as hell don’t trust myself.”

Bayne swallowed the longing to pin her against a wall and kiss her into submission. She would yield to him—he knew that. Apparently so did she, and it was something that frightened her. Her willingness was also something he could not control, not command. He would have to trust her ability to work through the conflict within her.

With great reluctance, he released her. “I can try,” he said. “I might not be successful though. I want you rather badly.”

Malia nodded. “I know. And… I want you, which is what scares me. I don’t know what I feel, Bayne, but it’s not what I should even if I have forgiven you. Just let me come to you on my own terms. That’s all I ask.”

“Then that is what I’ll give you.” He took a further step back, giving her space. “Though I would like it if you would consider dining with me tonight.”

She smiled. “I would like that.”

Seven

“What ya doing?”

Malia smiled at the question, moving her goggles to her forehead as she turned to Bayne. “I’m working on a modification to the internal comms,” she told him, then grinned again. “Did you want the technical jargon as well?”

He blew air from his pursed lips. “Not really.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Oh, you know. Just making friendly conversation.”

Like she was going to believe that. “Uh huh.”

She couldn’t help but smile though. His appearances in the laboratory were almost as regular as clockwork: always just before the midday hour and just as the shifts changed. He came to ask her to share dinner, which she inevitably did. It was ten days after she’d left Terranis, and she was beginning to wonder if she wanted to go back.

“Are you about done here?” Bayne asked. “I’ve something to show you.”

The galaxy was full of wonder, and he’d taken to showing her whatever they came across as they traveled to a planet she’d forgotten the name of. She’d been shown worlds of ice, of gas, with rings of dust that glittered like diamonds in the sunlight and more, though it had rather become a blur. That wasn’t to say she didn’t love it, because she did.

Malia set down the communicator and snapped off the protective gloves. “I’m done now.”

He grinned and held out his hand. She took it, her fingers interlacing with his. He had promised not to push her and he’d kept that oath. There’d been no attempt at seduction and hardly any flirting, if she discounted the fact he kept showing things off. Their time together had been relaxed, even friendly, and so friendship had grown.

As Bayne escorted to the small room on an upper deck that had become their haven, Malia reflected that when she went back to Terranis she would miss these moments. She pushed down the rise of sadness and lifted her chin. This was temporary. She had to remember that fact.

Outside the porthole, a riot of color twisted and spun. She broke away from Bayne and hurried to the glass for a better look. She stared at the clouds of space dust and the intermittent flashes of light within their depths. Feeling him come up behind her, she asked, “What is it?”

“Plasma storm,” he replied, sliding his arms around her waist. “The dust is the remnants of an ice planet— a million fragments of frozen gas caught in the gravitational pull of the sun. Solar emissions cause friction and set off static. That’s the lightning you can see.”

“Doesn’t that need oxygen?”

“Yes, but that’s part of the planet’s atmosphere. Malia leaned against his firm body and watched the swirling maelstrom. Terranis had storms, but nothing like this. There was probably nothing like this repeated in the entire universe. It was a singular event, one that very few would be privileged to see. One Bayne had chosen to share with her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled. “I know what you’re doing, though, and it’s not going to work.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t. You just thought to show me something incredibly awesome and beautiful because we were just passing and I was just clocking off.”

Bayne chuckled. “That’s exactly it.”

“Liar.”

“On occasion, yes.”

“When you want your own way, especially.” Malia turned in the circle of his arms and slid hers around his neck. She was rewarded by the flare of his pupils. “You’re trying to seduce me with the wonders of the universe.”

His wide-eyed innocent look fell rather short of the mark. “I am?”

“You are.”

“And you say this will not work?”

Malia gazed into his brown eyes. He seemed so far removed from the cold Overlord who’d come to Terranis she found it difficult to remember he was the same man. It was almost as hard to recall that he’d forced her into sex. Why that had even been necessary.

“No,” she breathed, her mouth close to his. “It won’t.”

“Better come up with a more effective plan, then.”

She closed her eyes as he kissed her. It broke all the rules, but she didn’t care. They had spent hours here, watching the stars, and that was when they’d not been eating dinner together, talking about nothing in particular until it was well into the sleep cycle. And when they’d not been doing either of those things, Bayne had been teaching her to read. Hours upon hours she’d spent with him, learning about what made him tick, learning about his wry sense of humor buried under layers of prickles. Learning to love him.

She broke the kiss. “I have a plan,” she told him. “It involves you and me and a bottle of wine. Or maybe two.”

His grin was immediate. “That sounds like my kind of plan.”

~*~

Whatever Malia’s plan was, it seemed she’d miscalculated the number of wine bottles required. Two and a half later, she was curled on the chaise next to him with a frown creasing her forehead. What thoughts were going through that sharp mind of hers?

Bayne arched his eyebrows as she looked up at him. He didn’t ask, but waited to hear whatever was troubling her.

“What was your relationship with Grieves?”

He hadn’t expected that. They’d not spoken about the disgraced captain since the incident at the space station. “Why do you ask that?”

“I was… curious.” Her gaze dropped to the wine glass in her hand as she swilled the remaining liquid. “I’ve been curious since you locked him up, but I wanted you to volunteer the information.”

“And because I haven’t, you decided to grill me about it?”

Malia snorted. “I am not grilling you. I asked a simple question, politely, I might add. If you choose not to answer, that’s fine, but don’t make wild accusations.”

“He pulled me out of the wreckage and helped me recover.”

The wine spun round and round. “So you were… close.”

“I suppose so, why?”

“What was his opinion on Terranis?”

Bayne frowned. “That it was a backwater planet not worth my time. He was right insomuch that other planets were more important to consolidating my position.” He didn’t see where this line of questioning was taking them. “I guess he didn’t like the place, which is why he doesn’t like you. I don’t share either opinion, if it helps.”

She gave him a brief smile. “That’s nice, but it doesn’t solve the problem.”

“Which is what?”

“I don’t think he dislikes Terranis because of what happened to you.” She drained her glass and put it on the table. Her glance was dark, troubled. “I think it has to do with what you might remember.”

“Remember?” he echoed, at a loss. “I don’t—”

“No, you don’t, do you? Bayne, I’ve… look, I didn’t mean to, I was just searching for schematics on the communicators, but I found… files. And curiosity got the better of me.”

Bayne put his glass down. “What kind of files?”

“Your personal log. I just… wanted to get to know you better.”

Something dark simmered in his gut. She’d pried into his personal file? How dare she? He glared at her. “And you couldn’t ask?”

“I could, but you wouldn’t know the answers. Bayne, I know you can’t recall what happened, that the report into the crash comes only from Grieves’ recount of events. I… I cross referenced other files.” She plaited her fingers together and the knuckles whitened as she took a breath. “Your reports were like reading someone else’s entirely. There was nothing of you, of the man I know, in them whatsoever. Not even the name.”

He jolted. “What?”

“Bryce,” she murmured, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Your real name is Bryce.”

The universe stopped.

“No, I…” It resonated deep within him. “I’d lost my memory. Brain damage caused by the crash and…” He couldn’t finish; the betrayal was far too great.

“Grieves filled you in.” Her smile was sad. “He told me on the station that there was something human in you despite his best efforts. That was my first clue. And you’ve been so different since he was put out of contact. The rest wasn’t hard to figure out. Stumbling on your file just gave me the details I couldn’t guess at.”

“He made me.” He couldn’t get over that fact. “Everything I know is a lie.”

Malia shook her head. “Not everything. No amount of manipulation could change your basic character. It also explains your temper—your subconscious must have struggled with the dichotomy between what you were told and what you felt.”

He thought that over. “It makes some sense, I suppose. But then why did I accept your offer, if I was that angry?”

“I don’t know, but maybe because he was so against me. I think some part of you knew he was lying.” She smiled. “A rather pedantic part of you, clearly.”

Bayne couldn’t smile. “Twenty years, Malia. I’ve trusted that man for twenty years. More than half of my life living something that someone else told me. That he lied to me about.”

“I know, Bayne, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been digging.”

He grabbed her hand and held it tight. “No. You were right. And this isn’t your fault.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I don’t know what I can recover, but at least I know Grieves lied to me. That I don’t have to be a person who never felt right. You’ve no idea… I’ve no idea who I am anymore.”

“Bryce,” she said. Her eyes flickered over his face. “It suits you, so much better than Bayne does.”

“Close enough to the original that I’d buy it, but different enough to matter. To be the name feared across the galaxy.”

“We might never be able to eradicate that fear, Bayne. You should know that now.”

He knew that, but, “We?”

Her eyes softened. “Okay, so the seduction worked. Don’t let that get to your head.”

Bayne chuckled as he hauled her onto his lap. “Me? Absolutely not.”