Elizabeth Raines (3 page)

Luka’s arm was there, supporting him.

Syla came to his other side, fitting herself under his armpit and holding him up.

Together, they made their way back through the woods, something Jake would never have been able to do alone.

Betinsa had been right—Jake still needed his husband.

Judging from the tender way Luka held him, perhaps Luka needed him as well.

* * * *

Syla wasn’t ready to let her guard down—probably because she’d stayed vigilant for so long it had become a habit. Every sound registered in her mind. Every movement was discerned. Her vigilance had kept her alive—as had Jake’s. He’d brought her here for a reason, and she needed to accept this choice as what was best for her.

While she trusted Jake with her life, she was still wary of the new man. He seemed nice enough, but she’d learned long ago never to rely on first impressions—especially her own. Once, she’d been far too trusting and naïve. Now, she’d learned better. This man—
Luka
—would have to earn her trust.

He was every bit as handsome as Jake, although they were a dichotomy—a contrast of light and dark. His blond hair wasn’t as white as a Trilani’s, but the yellow was inviting. His eyes were the color of Earth’s sky and very appealing.

His home was small and tidy. One living area. A cooking area. A bathroom. The hallway led to a big bedchamber. As soon as she had Jake settled and was sure they were safe, she’d ease his pain and heal his wounds.

Luka helped Jake lie on the bed. “I’m gonna get something we can wrap around you to bandage those ribs good and tight.” He strode out of the room.

Syla went to the other side of the bed and crawled across the mattress to Jake, kneeling at his side. “Sure you are that we be safe?”

“Positive. You can trust Luka. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think he could keep you safe.”

“Keep us safe.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Keep
us
safe.”

Stroking his dark hair away from his face, she took a deep breath and laid her palm against his forehead.

Jake tried to brush her hand away. “Syla…don’t. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to heal me.”

“Hush. Pain I can take away. Let me.”

His brown eyes searched hers.

“I this do for you.” She gave him a smile she hoped would convince him.

He nodded. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“For you,
dalla
, anything.”

My love
. The endearment fit her dark hero.

The pain seeped out of him and into her, following her fingers up her arm and reaching her chest. She was ready, letting the agony flow into her, where it diminished in internal explosions that left her physically drained. By the time Luka came back into the room, Syla’s job was done.

She pulled back her hand and flopped down next to Jake. Fatigue swept over her in a relentless wave, and her eyelids grew too heavy to fight.

Sleep claimed her.

“She healed you,” Luka said, not sure he believed what he saw. He laid the cloths on the nightstand. “I guess we won’t need these now.”

“Yeah. Sorry you went to the trouble.”

“Why didn’t she do that when you crashed?”

“I begged her not to,” Jake replied. “It takes a lot out of her. Since I wasn’t in immediate danger, I wouldn’t let her even try—not when we were out there and vulnerable.”

“You can move now?”

Jake shifted around for a moment. “Yeah. No pain. A little stiff, but Syla did good.”

The woman lay as still as death. Watching carefully, Luka finally relaxed when he saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest. “How long will she be out?”

“Not too long. A couple of hours maybe, but that’s just a guess. I’ve only seen her heal twice. One was a dying child. That one knocked her on her ass. She slept eight hours. The other was when her other bodyguard was shot in the shoulder. That time, she was out only two hours. Cracked ribs and a concussion probably fall somewhere between those two.” His chuckle sounded forced.

“
Other
bodyguard?”

“Yeah. He worked with me to protect her.”

“She’ll be okay?”

“She’ll be good as new.”

“Want a beer?” They needed to talk, and Luka figured Syla would rest better if she were allowed some peace and quiet. “I’ve got some in the kitchen.”

“Sure.” Jake kissed her cheek and rolled off the bed.

Luka was in turmoil. Watching that innocent kiss had felt like a blow to the gut. How could Jake have forgotten Kimini already? That tender little gesture spoke volumes—Jake was in love with Syla.

Jake’s eyes didn’t leave her until he walked out of the bedroom.

“How
could
you?” Luka demanded as he shut the bedroom door.

“How could I what?”

“You love that woman! What about Kimini? Have you forgotten our wife that easily?”

With a sigh, Jake took a seat at the kitchen table. “Our wife is gone. Remember?” His eyes swept the interior. “Nice place. A bit…stark, but that’s what you always liked best. No fuss, no muss.”

“Changing the topic as subtly as ever, I see.” Luka set the brown bottle in front of Jake.

Taking a long swig, Jake let the smooth brew warm his stomach. “Nice.” He checked for a label. There was none. “What is this?”

“Home brewed. My own recipe.”

“Shit. You really have gone rugged, haven’t you? I suppose you grow all your own food, too.”

“And hunt my own meat.”

Jake set the bottle back down. He had to fight the urge to put his hand over Luka’s where it rested on the table’s surface. From the moment he’d seen him again, all Jake wanted was to throw himself into Luka’s arms and kiss him senseless.

The year apart hadn’t changed a damned thing. The chemistry was still there, along with the physical pull that made Jake’s cock stand at attention anytime he saw Luka, just as it had when Kimini was close. For a short time after her murder, Jake had hoped he and Luka might stay together. Lots of cultures accepted a pair of males as mates. Yet no matter how hard he tried to help Luka deal with his overwhelming grief, the man only wanted to live in the past.

They’d parted on cordial terms—after nearly three of years of being a family, they’d hugged, slapped each other on the back, and walked away as though that time had never happened.

A no-frills divorce
.

Luka’s face hardened. He was rising to a slow boil, no doubt because Jake had yet to explain why he’d flown out here. He had to resist a smile, knowing full well that Luka wouldn’t be able to hold his curiosity down for long. Hell, were their roles reversed, Jake would still be out in the forest, demanding answers as to why someone had tried to find him when he was supposed to be off the grid permanently.

Maybe that was what Luka had needed a year ago—a way to vent his anger. Perhaps what Jake should have done was demanded that Luka stay and face their loss head-on.

He took another pull on the beer. What was done was done. There was no turning back. Jake would let the past be, knowing if he hadn’t left Luka behind, he’d have never found Syla.

As his far-too-wise mother used to say,
everything happens for a reason.

“So…” Jake drummed his fingers on the tabletop, waiting for Luka to give up the façade of calm.

“So…”

“Thanks for the beer.”

“You’re welcome.”

“The weather’s great up here. No humidity at all. You must love the mountains.”

“I do.”

5, 4, 3, 2…

“Oh, for the love of—” Luka stood fast enough to send his chair flying back. “What in the fuck are you doing in Montana?”

Luka was torn. Part of him wanted to smack the smug grin off Jake’s face. Part of him wanted to haul him into his arms and never let go. It was as though no time had passed and they were still husbands—still in love with each other and with Kimini.

He tried to hold on to his anger. That emotion kept him grounded and made it possible to sit at a table with Jake and not touch him as he desperately wanted to.

Before their fake marriage, Luka had never considered his sexuality. He’d fucked his share of women, but he’d never felt an emotional connection. Not once. All a woman represented was a warm pussy and a moment of thrill.

The first time Jake had found the courage to take their relationship to a sexual stage—something they’d done with Kimini’s coaching and encouragement—Luka had realized that he was not only bisexual, but he craved the kind of intimacy only three people sharing a sexual experience could provide.

“I brought Syla out here to the sticks,” Jake said, “because it was the safest place for her. She needed to escape.”

“From what?”

“She’s Trilani,” Jake replied as if that were enough to explain what brought him to a place forbidden for people to visit.

“So what?”

“You haven’t heard what’s happening there, have you?”

“Jake, I’m in
Montana
. People who come here are leaving the world—for good. Look around. We’re all retired from Earth Bureau of Investigation or IDEA or one of a dozen other dangerous jobs that made us have to leave our lives behind and hide out here. The cover story is that the area was flooded with radiation in the twenty-first century, so it’s supposed to be uninhabitable. I don’t give a flying fuck what’s happening on Trilan or Fraiqua or Dracoria or Rozale or—”

Jake held up his hands in surrender. “I get it. You don’t care. You’re retired and don’t want anyone to ever see Luka Arma again. I get it. But
I
care about Trilan.”

“Because of that woman.” Damn if his voice didn’t sound downright snotty.

“She’s not
that woman
,” Jake insisted. “Not only do I
love
her, but she’s the Trilani crown princess.”

The word
princess
set off a firestorm in Luka’s mind. “Holy shit. What did you do, Jake?”

“I helped her escape.”

“From what? From a life of luxury on Trilan? Poor baby tired of having servants kiss her pretty little feet?”

“There’s a traitor on her planet, Luka. She was in danger. She was accused of treason against her own father, and if they’d caught her, she might have been executed.”

“Why’s that my problem?”

“Oh, come on! Have you really changed
that
much? What happened to the man I loved—the one who always championed the underdog? Where did my husband—the guy who had the best moral compass in the universe—go?”

Luka drained his beer, wondering if he should get another and turn tonight into a bender of epic proportions. The emotions from seeing Jake again were drowning him, and he wanted to return the favor by drowning those emotions in any alcohol he could get his hands on. “I need another drink.”

“Don’t get drunk. I know you’re upset—”

“Gee, Jake…why would I possibly be upset? The husband who all but abandoned me—”

“Abandoned you? You think I
abandoned
you?”

“Stop acting like you’re surprised. I wanted you to come here with me, and you damn well know it. But you said no.” The words poured out of Luka, and he couldn’t have stopped them if he wanted to. He swiped his eyes, angry that he’d allowed a few tears to fall. “You
had
to go back to IDEA. You
had
to go back to fighting a war on drugs we can never win. You
had
to go back to helping people who don’t even know you or give a shit whether you live or die. What about
me
, Jake? Did you even think about me? I
needed
you!”

This wasn’t how he wanted things to be—not a fight at their first contact in so long. Luka had missed Jake with every ounce of his being—just like he still reached for Kimini at night in his lonely bed as though she remained at his side. One of the reasons he’d come out to “no man’s land” was to prevent this kind of altercation.

He stomped to the refrigerator and grabbed another beer. Before he had it in his grasp, Jake’s hand was on his.

“Don’t. Let’s talk, okay?”

Luka snorted at him.

Talk? So I can embarrass myself even more?

Jake tugged on his hand. “Please, Luka…”

Luka let his eyes meet Jake’s. The hurt reflected there tugged at his heart, making him swallow hard to prevent more tears.

Funny, he’d never cried. Not once since Kimini’s IDEA “send-off”—the drunken party agents always threw when one of their own was killed in the line of duty. Luka had tried to hold it together and keep a stiff upper lip, but when Jake had given a toast to his dead wife and his husband—saying he’d wished they’d really been married—Luka had lost it. Jake held him while Luka broke down and cried like a baby, disgracing himself in front of all his fellow agents.

Since then, his emotions had been a vast emptiness. Luka buried every feeling he had, never wanting to suffer that kind of heartache again. He’d put his life on autopilot and wanted Jake to do the same. When Luka decided to come to the lands put aside for retired agents, he’d been shocked Jake refused and wanted to stay with IDEA. Up until the day he left Rozale, Luka had expected Jake to change his mind.

Instead, he’d gotten on the transport and made the trek back to Earth by himself.

“Luka…” Jake tried to pull him into his arms.

Luka resisted, still not sure what he truly wanted.

Jake was here. After all that time, his husband was really here—close enough he could touch him. Why was he hesitating? They’d shared their bodies, their wife, their blood, sweat, and tears. All for the job.

Right?

Wrong.

That was the problem. Luka might have entered into the marriage as a necessary ruse to facilitate their infiltration of Fraiqua, but somewhere along the way, it had become real to him. He’d loved Kimini. And he’d loved Jake—still did, judging from the strong emotions coursing through him after a year of being an automaton. Although the vows they’d spoken weren’t intended to be genuine, they’d been real to Luka. Kimini had felt the same.