Eternal Nights (17 page)

Wyatt made a noise that sounded like a groan, and his hold tightened on her hips. For an endless moment, the possibilities hovered between them. Then he broke the mood. “No.”

He put her away from him, and almost dazed, Kendall opened her eyes. Then the rejection registered. Hurriedly, she took another step away from him—and staggered to catch her balance. Her legs weren’t entirely steady. The embarrassment was intense and she knew her face was red because it felt scalding hot.

Holding out his hand, Wyatt took a step toward her. “Bug—”

“No!” She backed up. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

“You’re thinking I—” He cut himself off. “Damn it! Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the second hall on their left. It was only then that she heard a light scraping sound. There was no indication that a human had made the noise, and no telling how distant the point of origin was, but they couldn’t risk waiting around to see if it was the thieves.

Even as adrenaline spiked, Kendall considered it a reprieve. It was temporary, though. Wyatt would want to clear the air. He’d be nice about it, but he’d tell her that he didn’t think of her like that. And she’d agree their friendship was important—which was true—and pretend what had happened was no big deal—which wasn’t true. He released her and she breathed a sigh of relief. This whole thing had gotten so messed up. Why did he have to mistake her for Zolianna? If Wyatt hadn’t kissed her, Kendall wouldn’t be confused, wouldn’t be wanting more of him.

They slowed when they reached a corner, and he checked it out before they took the turn. The memory of his erection pressing against her butt made Kendall’s thoughts derail. If he didn’t want her, why had he gotten hard?

Almost as soon as she asked the question, she had the answer. He was male, and men found her pretty—in a girl-next-door kind of way. Plus, she didn’t think he’d had sex in the four months he’d been on J Nine. This post was so small that she’d have heard something if he had.

Kendall felt like screaming. Why was she thinking like this? She didn’t want him to want her. Hell, she didn’t want to want
him.
Nothing but hurt and heartache waited at the end of this path; she knew that better than anyone.

Time after time as she’d grown up, her mom would meet a man and announce that this was her soul mate, the person with whom she was meant to spend her life. Time after time, Kendall had let herself believe it, let herself dream of having a dad and a permanent home. And time after time, they’d packed up and moved on in mere months. Her mom was always in tears, swearing off men and wondering where her true soul mate was. And Kendall would be fighting her own need to cry. No matter how hard she’d tried to remain distant, she’d always ended up liking her
uncles
. Of course, her mom’s celibacy never lasted—there was always another man who was meant for her—and the cycle would begin again.

Well, she wasn’t going to be foolish like her mother. She wasn’t going to risk her best friend for a quick roll in the sack—she wouldn’t risk him even for a couple months’ worth of pleasure. Wyatt meant too much to her to lose him. So she’d apologize for her lapse, blame it on the circumstances affecting her judgment and they’d move past it. She hoped.

Now that she had a plan, Kendall felt better. The most important thing, however, was that she maintain her control. She couldn’t have another moment of weakness, not without ruining any chance she had of things returning to normal between them.

And it went beyond Wyatt. Because they spent so much time together, she’d become chummy with his team, and to a lesser degree, the rest of the guys in Spec Ops. If Wyatt pulled back, Kendall wouldn’t just lose one friend, she’d lose dozens.

*** *** ***

Wyatt was getting tense. Kendall was too damn quiet. He knew she was dwelling on what had happened between them. Shit, he shouldn’t have pulled back, but he’d had no other choice given the situation. And he’d been right to play it safe. He couldn’t say that noise he’d heard had been made by the smugglers, but since the pyramid was usually silent as a tomb—his lips quirked—he had to assume it was produced by a human.

If he’d been busy kissing Kendall, he never would have heard it. Hell, once he got his mouth on her, he wouldn’t hear a fricking brass band come marching down the stone halls. So he’d pulled away before giving in to his need, and the look he’d seen on her face had him kicking himself six ways to Sunday. She’d taken his withdrawal all wrong.

He’d try to explain, of course, but Wyatt knew Kendall would pretend the moment had never happened, and she’d avoid any conversation about it. And like always, he’d back off to keep her from putting even more distance between them.

He was damn sick of that. Wasn’t four months enough time to be patient? Wyatt grimaced. If he could keep from rushing her just a little while longer, he was going to get her, he was certain of that. Already the wall she’d placed between them was starting to disintegrate. She’d linked her fingers with his, and today she’d reached for him to brush back his hair. Then there was this corridor incident. Not only had Kendall leaned more firmly into him, she’d wiggled her butt against his hard-on. Oh, sure, it had been a minute motion, but he’d felt it in every cell of his body. Thank God she was unaware of what she’d done.

Forcing the memory out of his mind wasn’t easy, but Wyatt did it anyway. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do right now and he needed to remain alert. They were in a shitload of trouble, and thinking with his cock wasn’t going to get them out of it. He’d failed Kendall the last time around, but in this life, things were going to be different.

Right now, his top priority had to be replenishing their water supply, not getting Bug into bed. Although it sure felt like he’d been waiting forever for her. Hell, according to his mother, his first word had been
Zo
. Someday he’d tell Bug that.

There was one thing he didn’t ever intend to share with Kendall, and that was the fact that the women he’d been drawn to in the past had all reminded him of Zolianna in some way. Usually it was appearance, but with some it had been personality. Bug had been the first who hadn’t fit the norm for him.

Wyatt smirked, amused at himself. He’d only been on the planet for two days, and because they’d still been wound tight as hell from three solid months in the field, he and his men had been hanging together, keeping to themselves. But that evening, a meeting with Sullivan had run late, and he’d ended up at the mess hall alone—behind Kendall. He’d found himself attracted to what he could see of her, which was basically her backside, and from time to time, her profile. She wasn’t his usual type—too tall, too slender, hair too light—but they were stuck in a line that didn’t seem to be moving, so he’d started a conversation.

The more they’d talked, the more interested he’d become. Then Kendall had turned to hand him a tray. At first, it had been her smile that hooked his attention, but slowly, Wyatt had raised his eyes to hers. And he’d known.

He’d tried to convince himself he was imagining things, that the odds of finding her again on a planet with so few people were slim, but he’d finagled an invitation to eat dinner with her anyway. And as the meal progressed, he’d become certain of her identity.

They’d talked until they’d been the last ones in the mess hall and the kitchen staff had kicked them out. Then he’d walked her home and sat on her porch talking with her some more.

A few subtle probes that first night had told him that not only didn’t she recognize him, but that she didn’t remember their past life. That had been unexpected, and disappointing. He’d always figured it would be like a love-at-first-sight thing, but that wasn’t how it went. Not for her, and not for him either. It had been more like intrigued at first sight. His lips curved. Bug was so different from Zolianna—so much more than he’d expected.

And he was doing it again. He had to keep his mind on the situation—he couldn’t let himself think about kissing Kendall or about the feel of her body against his. Yeah, the marble hallways were monotonous, but shit, he’d kept focus in tedious places in the past, and with Bug at risk, he should be more alert, not less. She was the most important person in his world. Hell, she
was
his world.

Despite his intentions, Wyatt found himself zoning out again, thinking about how much fun they’d had at the Peace Day picnic a few months ago. As soon as he realized that he was drifting once more, he snapped himself out of it, but it worried him. “Kendall.” He saw her wince, but ignored it. “I’m having trouble paying attention. I need you to talk to me, and if I don’t seem alert, nudge me or something, okay?”

Her reluctance immediately changed to concern. “This isn’t like you. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, but I can’t seem to concentrate for long.” Understatement. It only took seconds for his thoughts to wander to Bug.

She nodded, face serious, then asked, “What about the thieves? Won’t my talking give away our position?”

“There’s a dampening effect in the pyramid. If you keep your voice soft, we should be okay.” There was a long silence. “Help me out here.”

Kendall shrugged. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“Anything. Tell me about the toughest field hockey match you played, or your favorite birthday. Heck, repeat the info you gave me on the smuggling ring. It doesn’t matter.”

There was another short pause, and then she started telling him about the temple. The longer she went on, the more enthusiastic she became and the more enthusiastic Bug got, the more his mood soured. Damn it, he’d competed with the fucking temple once before; did he have to do it again? How many times had Berkant asked Zolianna to run off with him? And each time, she’d stalled him. The excuses were always good ones, but what it really boiled down to was that she had ties to this pile of rock and wasn’t willing to sever them. Sometimes he’d even wondered whether she loved the temple more than she’d loved him.

“Ow!” Wyatt rubbed his ribs. “Your elbow is sharp.”

“You told me to make sure you paid attention.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Since you’re not interested in the temple, I guess I better find another topic. Did you want to discuss the cave analogy in Plato’s
Republic?
”

He groaned; he couldn’t help it, and Kendall laughed. Some of the tension eased from him. If she was teasing, then she wasn’t pulling back—his chief concern. “Why don’t we try something less intellectual?”

Without missing a beat, Bug said, “How ‘bout them Cowboys?”

“Low blow, darlin’. Even if you don’t enjoy watching, football involves a lot of strategy.”

“It’s hard to notice that when there are so many penalties. Any sport that has cheating on every play isn’t worth wasting time on. But baseball—now that’s the thinking-person’s game.”

“We’ve argued this a few times already.”

“For someone who said talk about anything, you’re pretty picky.” Bug shook her head. “We could discuss the inlay of crystals. One thing keeps bothering me. That pearly-looking stone? It’s selenite.”

“What’s the big deal about selenite?”

“It’s a really soft stone, like a two or so on the Mohs’ Scale. To put it in perspective, diamonds are a ten, and talc is a one. If you were going to take the time to create mosaics from gems, wouldn’t you go with the harder ones?”

Wyatt shrugged. “What do you think it means?”

“This has been nagging at me, but I finally remembered something interesting. Gypsum formation is tied to precipitation with a high saline content. I’m wondering if the aliens didn’t use that association with rain to indicate where water was inside the temple. Like an arrow pointing thataway, you know?”

“Salt water isn’t potable.”

“Don’t be so literal,” Kendall said, then began explaining the properties of selenite and gypsum.

As she spoke, something flew past his head. Wyatt blinked as he looked around, trying to identify it. He didn’t see anything, so he took another, more careful scan. Nothing. He glanced at Bug, but she seemed oblivious as she talked rocks.

Wyatt heard a noise and tuned her out as he tried to identify it. The buzzing had an inhuman quality to it, yet it sounded oddly familiar. He was still trying to figure out why when something hit his arm.

Almost dispassionately, he checked it out. A beetle about two inches long had landed on him, and Wyatt flicked it away. As he watched it hit the wall, he felt a sting on his nape, and reached back to brush his neck. Another large beetle fell at his feet. He stepped on it, making it crunch as he crushed it.

A third beetle flew at his head, and Wyatt swatted at it, trying to knock it down. He got it, but dozens of others swarmed at him. Kendall—how was she doing? He looked over at her, but none of the deep brown bugs were bothering her.

In the time it took to glance over, the number of flying insects had swollen to hundreds—shit, maybe thousands—and they were dive-bombing him. They seemed intent on finding bare skin, and when they landed, they bit. The wounds burned painfully, and Wyatt slapped at the beetles with less control. Kendall’s voice sounded urgent, but he couldn’t make out the words, and could only guess that the bugs were attacking her now too. He couldn’t check on her, though, not while he was fighting his own battle.

They were going for his face, for his eyes. Wyatt’s agitation increased, and his swipes became wilder. He crushed the ones that he sent to the floor, but no matter how many he killed, reinforcements arrived to take their places.

Hundreds of thousands of beetles flew and crawled and scuttled through the hall. It would take a flame thrower to make a dent in their numbers, and each bite seemed to rip pain through his muscles, right down to the bones. He had to protect Kendall. Her skin was so soft, this must be complete agony for her.

“Wyatt!” Kendall sounded frantic, and he fought harder. He had to help her. Had to.

Something—someone—gripped him from behind, their arms imprisoning his own at his sides. He began to break the hold, to answer the threat, but thankfully, Wyatt recognized Kendall’s touch a split second before he reacted.