She smiled. He acted older, yet she was the one who’d rescued him at the tender age of twenty. She let him act the older brother, because she’d always wanted one. “Nah, I got the man.”
Jeremy chuckled, “Thought so. See you tomorrow,” he picked up the tray and left, easing the door shut behind him.
She marched into the guest room and smiled. “Into the living room. Jeremy liked you, because you get all the good stuff.” She sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the covers, trying not to stare at his bare chest and abdomen.
“Are you okay with my staying here?” his voice, whiskey over rocks, was calm, quiet.
“I’m fine with it, Boone. I have to recover, and could use the company,” she smiled.
“What’s the official word, then?” he tilted his head to the right and wiped all expression off his face.
Damn it, he knew they were going to make it hard on him. “For the moment, you stay here and regain your strength. You get TV and a gaming system, and though we have intranet in Showtime, internet is only allowed at the highest levels, and all cell phones are blocked except the ones trusted with internet.” She shrugged. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. A nurse will be assigned to you for the next day or so, until you can walk around without help.”
“What if I want you to nurse me,” the side of his mouth lifted, and a warmth spread through his eyes.
She looked away, wishing her hair was down. She blushed so hard a headache started to form. She didn’t really know how to flirt, but her mouth was apparently all over it, because her brain didn’t stop the words, “You’d never get out of bed.” She jerked at the words out of her mouth. “Um, I, uh, I…”
Boone laughed, a deep masculine sound. Not at her, but at his own jump at her words. She though maybe she’d surprised him as well. “Oh, gorgeous, that’s a promise I’d hold you to.”
She turned away, wondering where the bold Iroida who’d kissed him had disappeared to. Perhaps it was harder since the setting was more intimate, but she couldn’t say for certain. She’d never been in this position before.
The sound of a blanket moving, and the feel of the mattress dipping, made her jerk around and ensure he hadn’t fallen over. Instead, she almost head butted him, and only his bright blue eyes filled her sight. His scent overwhelmed her, and she was acutely aware of his big body inches away.
“Iroida, will you allow me to kiss you?” he whispered, his eyes staring at her mouth.
She nodded.
Boone leaned forward, weight on his arms, and the blanket slipped off. She gasped as his mouth met hers. The slide of electricity, seeing his nudity and the feel of his mouth on hers, and she lost all thought.
His lips, soft to the touch, strong on hers, and demanding of her mouth, overwhelmed her senses. Heat sizzled through her body, and she moaned against him. His hand cupped her cheek, and in a move she didn’t anticipate, he shoved his hand into her hair, grabbing a handful and in two moves had her underneath him, his mouth never leaving hers. Her breath left at the surprise, and the jolt of pure passion arrowing to her groin.
Her hands slid over his skull, and she gave up control. Returning his kiss, she licked the seam of his lips, reveling at his deep moan. He slid his tongue into her mouth and lapped until she returned the motion.
Something desperate exploded inside, a knowledge she didn’t realize she had, as her body rode the instinct. Her hips lifted, and his hand slid down her side, stopping at her hip and easing her back down. She wanted to wrap both legs around him, and dig in her nails, bringing him closer.
He pulled back, and she growled. “Easy, Iroida, easy. Neither of us is ready for more yet,” his voice soothed her raw desire, and allowed her to think again.
“Oh, my gods, what have I done?” she whispered, blinking and moving to get out from under him. She liked it too damn much, and a voice at the back of her mind said to go further would mean an irreversible change. She had no idea what that meant and wasn’t going to ask. It was best to ensure it never happened again.
She rolled to the floor, leaning on the mattress, head buried in her arms, counting to get her breathing under some kind of control. She wondered if her heart could jump out of her chest, because that is how it felt. A hard thumping, and the shaking was strange. She wasn’t even really sure what had just happened. Only that she’d been willing to do whatever he wanted, without question. Her mind raced with images, her naked body against his. The feel of skin against skin, his hard muscles under her fingertips, digging her nails in his a.ss.. for something. She wanted it but had no idea what “it” was.
She was going to go to Velma tomorrow. She was a nurse and would know, would keep the conversation private.
Getting under control, she levered up, and dared a peek at Boone. He was under the blankets again, a pillow over his lap. He smiled, “I need a nap, Iroida. Is that okay?”
She nodded, and grabbing her crutches, hobbled out.
She had to find Velma.
Chapter Thirteen
Boone
He was going to have a damn cockstand until the apocalypse. She’d tasted of coffee and cinnamon, and he’d scented her arousal. Thinking about it made the throbbing in his groin worsen to the point of pain. Wincing he opened his legs a little wider and lay back. It wasn’t his home, so jerking off for relief wasn’t an option.
Instead of thinking about the very kiss that would send him back into a lather, he tried to remember what happened. Images of the plane screaming toward the ground, the women bracing, and the one Iroida called Forty laughing, as she yelled, “Bring it on, remember to jump and spin!”
As the plane came to within five feet of the ground, every single one of them jumped into the air and spun. A certain aura surrounded all of them, and he’d let go. It was the last of his memory, other than flashes of carting the women to a road, and a fire. A feeling of rightness to it all.
And waking up in Iroida’s home. The smell of her, a sweet and musky scent, earthy and compelling. The moment their lips had met, he’d lost control. He’d wanted so much more, but instead, he’d pulled back, something saying she wasn’t ready, she would change in ways he didn’t understand. She’d not given permission for that. And so he’d pulled back, despite the taste of her passion. He suspected it would match his own.
He remembered Naomi, almost two hundred years after her death, and the unborn daughter, who after having to be cut out of her dead mother, lived two days. He’d never given the tiny girl a name. His heart constricted, as it had for so long, and he wanted nothing more than to cry.
Yet a memory of Iroida, her skin against his palms, the smoothness, the supple feel, the scars from battle. So different to his genteel Naomi. His mind wandered to the past. A time when women were considered less than men, and his quiet wife of noble descent. Her French accent heavy, her tiny stature, and quiet nature. She’d been raised to serve her husband, to bear as many children as possible, to live a life of quiet servitude, as all women were called to do by the Pope and priests of the day.
Iroida was the absolute opposite. She was six-foot-tall, fitting perfectly against his body, with a fiery personality, a heart that burned to do what was right, with passion, a mind of her own. And if what he was told during training was true, she was the daughter of gods. He guessed she cared deeply for her charges, loved and protected her family, and if she was to ever find a lover, he suspected that person would not only have her passion, but her soul and mind as well.
The gentle thumping of the crutches warned him the woman in question was on her way back.
“Yo! Sparky, a nurse is here to help you get a shower, because, well, you smell like a drunk in a pig pen. They are setting up my living room for both of us to yell and scream at each other over video games and throw popcorn at bad movies. Followed by a five-star meal of beef broth, dry toast and salted rice. I did order cherry jello, so you’re in for a treat tonight!” She waved her hands, and the quirk of her lips said she was trying not to laug
h.
“I must say, Iroida, you do know how to tempt a man. Now get the hell out of this room, and let the nurse take my dignity with professionalism.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. He hoped he hid the surprise at his easy manners, as if they were long time lovers. How easy it’d been.
Guilt slid up his spine, but he pushed it away. He had a right to attraction, a right to try and find a relationship with a woman who might be a perfect match. Didn’t he?
Shaking it off, he laughed at her subtle New York State Bird in his direction.
The nurse arrived, unfolding a walker, and after placing a wide, padded leather belt around his waist, she used both tools to keep him upright and force him to walk to the shower. He took care of immediate biological needs and sat for a moment. He was exhausted. Every muscle was weak, and he felt every one of them.
The nurse prepared a bath and helped him into it. He sank slowly, amazed at her strength.
“Most wouldn’t have been able to hold me steady,” he panted.
She smiled, “It’s why they brought me here. I was a nurse in the real world, and a damn good one. But an ambulance flipped on the ice, carrying a woman and her two kids. We couldn’t get to them, and I acted. I flipped it right way up, and carried all of them inside, all at once, without once slipping on the ice.” Her Boston accent was thick as she told the story, and Boone understood.
“You know, I didn’t know of my…” she hesitated, eyes unfocused, “abilities until a death. My world flipped upside down.” He patted her arm. “When was this?” He thought, by her looks, maybe in the nineties.
“Oh, shoot, it was right after the war. So … 1947. Bellator got me out before they could do any real harm.” She helped him lean forward and eased the sponge over his back. He moaned from the pleasure of it. “Baths always feel good after a couple of weeks without one, don’t they?” She chuckled.
“You do not look like someone born that long ago.” Using his arms to brace himself straight, he let his head fall back as she poured water over his hair and scrubbed it with shampoo.
She laughed, a good throaty one, showing real mirth. She rinsed it off and eased him back. She was professional as she finished, and as she stood, she looked at him, smiled. “I’m far older than I look. I was found as an infant, so my exact date of birth is unknown. I was adopted by a couple that raised me in Boston.”
For the first time, Boone glanced up, smiling, and met her dark blue eyes. His smile faltered, they were so familiar, the shape, the color. Ignoring it, he waited for her to lay down towels, and prepare. She bent her knees, grabbed the belt, and asked, “Ready? Most get dizzy from this maneuver, but it’s easiest to get you out and on some towels.”
“Do I need to hold on?”
“No. Just don’t try to help. Let me do the work, okay? Ready?”
He nodded, and started when she lifted as he weighed as much as a small child. She set him gently on his feet, holding him steady as she grabbed the walker. Seeing him situated, she dried him off, dressed him with an efficiency he envied, and had him in the living room before he could process it all.
“Ms. Iroida? I’ll be back in two hours, I’m under orders he’s to eat everything,” she gave him a stern look, “for two days. Glenda is on night duty, so neither of you will get eight straight.”
In two moves, she had him on the bed, the knitted blanket over his bare feet, half of the bed upright, pillows fluffed and behind his head. He blinked, trying to get his head around her speed and strength.
She patted his gray sweats covered thigh, “You’re good for a bit. No getting out of bed on your own until tomorrow. We’ll start making you move.” She winked at him, smiled, and picking up two huge duffel bags, was out the door before he could thank her.
He turned and found Iroida shaking violently with laughter. “What?”
“You were a small child in her hands, face a constant mask of confusion, and she easily manipulated you.” She giggled, before finally stopping. “It was great to see such a small woman handle you so adroitly.”
Boone didn’t stop the laughter. “I don’t have an argument. From the moment the bath was over, she whipped me around, and without a word or a violent move, showed me exactly who was in charge.”
Iroida’s mirth made her beauty shine, and Boone didn’t stop his stare of appreciation. He kept his mouth shut, instead allowing the moment to become a permanent memory.
“So, what games do we have?” He smiled, reaching for a controller.
Hands on his leg pulled him from the nap. He hadn’t had a full six yet, and it showed. Waking for a few moments every two hours was stressful. His control was a little off, and he shoved it all into the background. He was restless, and wanted to try and walk, but going against the little nurse’s orders made him pause. Glenda, on the other hand, was in her early sixties, efficient, smiled a lot. She made him eat every drop on the trays, and after his last tray, she smiled. She signed to Iroida.
“She’s going to recommend a little heartier meal for you.” Iroida signed thank you to Glenda, and picked up the book she’d been reading. A little number by an Indie author.
“Are you reading romance?” Boone tilted his head to the side, watching her.
“Yes. Problem?” Iroida glared in his direction.
“No. Was just wondering if you had any others.” At her look of surprise, he shrugged. “I personally like Romantic Suspense, but reading is reading.”
She reached to the left, picked up a copy and handed it to him.
He offered a single nod and dug in.
Two hours later, he’d switched to playing Call of Duty, waiting for the nurse.
She walked in, and he realized she was tiny. He hadn’t noticed the day before because his mind had been on Iroida. Today, he watched as she walked around, her movements quick, with almost an edge to them. She was barely five foot, her hair brunette with large curls, eyes a dark blue, skin pale and clear. Her hands were long fingered, slender. Yet he knew the strength she possessed.
“I was rude yesterday. What is your name?” he smiled.
She stopped and straightened her spine. As she turned to face him, something crossed her face and he didn’t quite catch it. “Sorry, thought I’d told you. I’m Naomi.”
Boone’s heart stopped in his chest. Forcing his face to remain neutral, “Nice to meet you! I’m Boone, by the way. What kind of torture do you have on the agenda for me today?” He offered a smile.
“Today you will take at least four steps, eat oatmeal and buttered toast, and, get this, a small cup of coffee,” she raised her eyebrows, nodding.
Boone laughed, and she returned the smile. “Well, Mistress Naomi, by all means, allow the torture to begin.”
An hour later, he was exhausted and staring at the oatmeal with hatred. He wanted a medium rare steak, baked potato, warm bread. The four steps had worn him down, she’d bathed and dressed him, and he was starving. Oatmeal. Deciding not to whine about it, he ate every bite, and savored the coffee. She’d allowed him to add sugar, but no creamer. The butter was all the dairy they’d allowed.
After cleanup, Naomi smiled, “All right, I’ll be back in two hours. With more food, and if you’re lucky, baked chicken.” She threw both duffel bags over a shoulder and left.
“Why did you look stricken for a second?” Iroida sat on the edge of her bed, crutches at the ready.
“She reminds me of a someone from my youth,” he smiled at her and settled in for a nap.
The next day was more of the same and as day three rolled around, he was going to the bathroom and taking a shower on his own, Naomi staying at the door just in case. He was eating normally, and his stomach was in a constant state of emptiness. It would take a few more days for his body to replace all that had been lost.
As they tried to blow each other up in the video game, instead of the mission, she laughed, and he realized the past three days had been good. Granted they’d had company the entire time, but it wasn’t too bad. He�
��d learned a lot about the woman next to him. Her likes, her temper, her preferences. Her ease at conversation, and how adeptly she would change the subject from her to something else. And he really wanted to know more about her.
The level finished, and they had to redo it, he watched as she hopped around the beds, putting the stuff away.
She raised a movie, an action-adventure. “Well? Shall we watch people blow shit up?”
Chapter Fourteen
Iroida
She offered the bowl of popcorn and smiled as he grabbed a handful. They’d settled in, and she watched him from the corner of her eye. He’d gained a little weight, his color was back, he was moving better, and he was eating. She’d seen him walk, and another day he’d be back to normal. She needed to call her mother.
Her mind balked at the idea. Living with him for three days had taught her a few things. Boone was a gentleman first, stubborn, and intelligent. She’d seen his eyes grow dark, and sad, when Naomi was near. She didn’t make a move without him knowing. At first she’d thought it was attraction, but time said it was something else. He was working it out in his head.
She knew what it was. But Naomi was Bellator’s charge, and Iroida knew better than to cross her younger sister. Bellator would rip her spine out and wiggle it in front of her eyes for saying a word.
Iroida could admit she’d been surprised by Boone’s enjoyment of romance books. He read one romance and one thriller every day. He napped three times a day, walked twice a day, ate constantly. He smelled like pine forests, and masculinity. She inhaled deeply, and often. It’d make her light headed but she wanted to memorize it.
Her cell phone vibrated on the table, and she saw the number. Closing her eyes, she picked it up, an swiped the screen. “Yes.”
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