by Zoe Chant
“Take your pick.”
She inspected them. They contained packets of candy and crackers, plus main dishes consisting of whitish glop and brownish glop. “What’s the difference?”
“Light is chicken, dark is beef,” Shane replied. “Or something.”
Catalina laughed and took the chicken. Or, more likely, something. Reluctantly, she stuck in her fork and took a bite. “Tastes exactly like it looks.”
Shane seemed more pleased with his meal. “Makes me feel like I’m back in the field.”
“Could you be a PJ again?” she asked. “I mean, once you get out of here?”
“No. There’s no going back.”
He didn’t explain further, but he didn’t seem to mind that she’d asked. For the rest of the meal and some time afterward, they traded stories of their jobs, of close calls and saved lives, and of pranks and silliness on their down time.
Fun hot bodyguard, she thought. I hope we can be friends once all this is over.
She tried not to think of it as a consolation prize. No matter how fascinating his stories were and how engaged she was in conversation, she couldn’t turn off her awareness of how sexy he was. Every time he moved, she was captivated by his power and grace. It was incredibly frustrating to be so close to him, to know that all she’d have to do to touch his warm skin was reach out her hand, and to be unable to do it.
Untouchable hot bodyguard, she thought. Wonder if you already have a girlfriend, or if you’re holding out for the perfect woman. Bet you bag a supermodel lawyer with a black belt in kung fu.
Catalina gritted her teeth in frustration. She and Shane were so compatible. They had similar interests and jobs. He obviously enjoyed talking to her as much as she enjoyed talking to him. They were locked up together in a tiny room, and they hadn’t annoyed each other yet. But you couldn’t argue with a lack of sexual attraction. He just wasn’t into her like that.
And that, she told herself firmly, was that.
The time flew by until they were both yawning. When she checked her watch, she was startled to find that it was nearly midnight.
They went to bed in their narrow cots. Shane reached up and flicked off the wall switch. Instead of plunging the room into pitch-black darkness, as she’d expected, it switched to a dim bluish light. She could still see him, his knees bent so his long legs wouldn’t dangle off the end of the cot.
“Good night, Shane,” she said.
“Good night, Catalina.” He turned over and settled in, so all she could see was his velvety black hair. Within a few minutes, his breathing deepened into the even rhythm of sleep.
She lay and listened for a while, wishing she could lie beside him. Her cot felt excruciatingly empty, with every inch of her skin longing to be pressed up against his. But though she was frustrated, she wasn’t lonely. Shane was right there with her, only a few feet away, and she’d seen how fast he reacted. If anything happened, he’d be up and ready to protect her.
With that thought to comfort her, she fell asleep.
***
Catalina woke with a start. For a moment, she was completely disoriented, unsure where she was or what time it was. She didn’t even know what country she was in. Then memory rushed back in, along with the realization of what had woken her. A man’s harsh gasps filled the room.
Her eyes flew open as she sat straight up. But though Shane’s breathing sounded as if he was fighting or badly hurt, he lay on his cot with his eyes closed, completely still except for the desperate heaving of his chest. He’d thrown off his blanket, so she could see that all his muscles were tensed and his hands were clenched in fists. Though the room was cold, sweat beaded his face.
Catalina knew better than to touch him. He’d probably lash out instinctively. Instead, she called softly, “Shane?”
He jolted awake instantly, levering himself up on one hand. The other snatched at his hip and closed around empty air instead of the gun he’d probably expected to find. His eyes were colorless in the dim light, and his expression would have frightened her if she didn’t know him.
“It’s me, Catalina,” she said. “I think you were having a nightmare.”
“Oh.” He sat up and took a few deep breaths. “Thanks for waking me up.”
She wanted to put her arm around his shoulders, but he didn’t like her touching him. It wouldn’t be comforting for him. “Is there anything I can do?”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it and wrapped his arms tight around his chest. He looked like he was holding himself back.
From doing what? Catalina wondered.
“No. I’m all right.” It was obvious that he wasn’t. He sat stiff and tense, with none of his usual grace, hunched over as if he was in physical pain.
“What were you dreaming about?” Catalina asked.
“I don’t remember.” He stood up. “Go back to sleep. I’m taking a shower.”
Catalina lay back down as he walked to the bathroom. She listened to the shower run as she lay there wishing there was something she could do for him. But he didn’t want to be touched and he didn’t want to talk, so what did that leave?
She wondered about his dream, which she was certain he did remember. He’d been in combat, of course, but that wasn’t necessarily it. She’d seen plenty of things that would give some people nightmares, but she never had bad dreams about her work, unless you counted the ones about showing up naked and without her stethoscope. And Shane had said he’d loved being a PJ.
The shower ran and ran. It was still going when she fell asleep.
Chapter Four
Catalina
“Catalina. Come on, wake up.”
She groggily peeled open her eyes. “What?”
“It’s morning.” Shane, still in pajamas, was sitting up on his cot. The lights were on. He had faint dark smudges under his eyes, but otherwise he looked as serene as ever. “You should get up and shower.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t now, you might not get a chance till night time. They keep early hours here.”
“Ugh.” She rolled out of bed, stumbled to the clothing stack, grabbed a handful of clothes, and made her way to the bathroom. By the time she finished her shower, she was more awake.
Shane went into the bathroom as soon as she left. The shower started running again.
Clean freak, she thought, remembering his middle-of-the-night shower. Well, he is part cat. They’re always washing.
The shower was still going when she heard a metallic clunk. The door opened, revealing Dr. Elihu and his security guard escort.
“Where’s Garrity?” Dr. Elihu said immediately.
“Taking a shower,” Catalina replied. As if he couldn’t hear it!
Though you could see the entire room, including under both cots, at a single glance, the doctor took a long, careful look around. Then he jerked his thumb at a guard. “You. Check. The rest of you, cover him.”
Catalina hastily stepped out of the line of fire as the guards raised their tranquilizer guns.
The guard Dr. Elihu had indicated warily knocked on the bathroom door. “Garrity?”
There was no response.
“He probably can’t hear you,” Catalina said.
“Open the door,” Dr. Elihu ordered.
The bathroom door didn’t lock from the inside. The guard yanked it open, revealing Shane stepping out of the shower, naked and dripping wet. He seemed unperturbed at the guards drawing down on him, not to mention Catalina and the doctor staring at him.
It was a sight glorious enough to wake her up, even at that ungodly hour. She knew she shouldn’t stare, but he was just standing there, without so much as a towel in his hand. She forced her gaze away from his big cock and the elegant hollows of his hip bones, up to his perfect six-pack, broad shoulders, and sleek hair. His wet eyelashes framed his piercing eyes, and water outlined every muscle.
“Can I help you?” Shane inquired politely.
T
he guard slammed the door. But Catalina had seen plenty. And since she’d probably never see it again, she’d just cherish the memory.
“Come with me, Mendez,” the doctor ordered. “I have more tests for you.”
That day was just like the first, only with different tests and minus the encounter with the dark-eyed man. Once again, she couldn’t stop thinking of Shane as she had more blood drawn and ran an obstacle course and did multiple tests measuring her hand-eye coordination. How long were they going to keep him locked up in that room? What was it that haunted his dreams? Was it possible to spontaneously combust from sexual frustration?
The guards returned her that evening. When they opened the door to her room, Shane was down on the floor doing push-ups with his shirt off. The muscles of his back glistened with sweat, and his hair was soaked. He was counting quietly to himself, but stopped and sat up when the door opened.
Two of the guards managed to avert their eyes, but he caught the other four with his predator stare. Two flinched but held steady, one staggered backward, and one actually dropped his tranquilizer gun. The remaining guards instantly leveled their guns at Shane, who hadn’t so much as blinked.
“Think of your weapon as an extension of your hand,” Shane advised the guard who had dropped his gun. “Then you’ll never drop it.”
Swearing, the guards slammed the door.
Catalina laughed. “Never not funny.”
“I’m glad someone appreciates it,” Shane remarked.
Catalina sat on the floor beside him. “Looks like your ribs are doing better. How many push-ups was that?”
“One thousand, eight hundred, and twelve,” Shane said. “I’m trying to beat the world record.”
“Did you?”
“Got me. The record is two thousand, two hundred, and twenty in one hour. But I don’t have a watch.”
She held up her hand, showing him hers. “Want me to time you?”
“Nah. I’m worn out.”
He didn’t look or sound worn out. Catalina bet he could have beat the record. She struggled not to stare at his incredible musculature. He was flushed from exertion, his nipples rose-pink. If she kissed them, they’d taste like salt and harden under her tongue. She fixed her gaze on his face, but his intensity made her feel like he was reading her mind. She hoped he hadn’t picked up on her fantasy of licking his chest.
Spontaneous combustion is a definite possibility, she thought.
To distract herself, she recounted her day in detail, all the way down to the layout of the corridors. When she finished, she asked, “Learn anything useful?”
“It’s all useful. Sooner or later, they’ll have to let me out of here.” He went to the bathroom, toweled off, and put his shirt back on.
Oh, well, she thought. The view was nice while it lasted. Anyway, he’s less distracting now.
He began to pace the room, restless power in every line of his body. Like a caged animal. Like his panther. His frustration was palpable, infecting her as well. She’d lose her mind if she’d been locked up alone all day in a tiny room with no TV, no books, no music, no games, no pen and paper, no nothing— not even a view.
To distract him and herself, she said, “I see we got some new MREs.”
He stopped pacing and picked them up. “Yeah. I hope they’re grabbing them randomly, then maybe we’ll get some different entrees. The pork and rice was my favorite.”
His hope was dashed when they sat down to eat them and discovered that it was once again chicken glop and beef glop. Catalina picked the beef glop for a change, only to discover that it tasted exactly the same as the chicken glop. But she enjoyed being with Shane as much as she had the night before, and that made up for the disgusting food.
He pointed to the one component of her MRE that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to try, a “snack bar” that looked like gray cardboard. “Are you going to eat that?”
“It’s a sacrifice, but I’ll let you have it. Whatever it is.”
She flipped it to him. He caught and ate it, though he didn’t seem to enjoy it.
“What’s it taste like?” she asked.
“Something,” he replied, deadpan.
Catalina grinned. “I guess conditions aren’t that bad, considering that we were kidnapped. I mean, we could have a bucket instead of a bathroom.”
“Yeah, we’re living in style,” Shane remarked. “I’ve done way worse.”
“Me too,” Catalina said, then added, “Not worse than you, I’m sure.”
“Ellie said you were living out of a tent for months in Loredana.”
“Well, yeah. But not in a combat zone.”
“In a disaster zone. Ellie told us all how you crawled into a building that could have collapsed at any second.”
“Just doing my job.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Shane remarked. “What I heard was that you were all ordered to stay out until the bracing equipment arrived, but you disobeyed orders and went in anyway.”
“Only when we found out that the equipment wouldn’t arrive for hours,” Catalina protested. “I had to go in— a man was bleeding to death.”
Shane’s level blue gaze met hers. “I know. You went above and beyond the call.”
“Oh.” Now she could see the sincere admiration in his eyes. It moved her; unexpectedly, she found her eyes prickling, as if she might cry.
This is the respect you’ve always wanted, she thought. If a PJ thinks you went above and beyond, that really means something.
But it wasn’t just because Shane was a PJ. It was because he was Shane. She cared about what he thought of her, not as a PJ, but as a person. She wanted him to respect her— wanted him to like her— wanted him to care about her in a way that he didn’t and never would—
The prickling increased. Catalina hastily lowered her gaze, letting her hair swing forward to hide her face, and pulled a piece of something apart with a fork.
She prayed that Shane wouldn’t notice anything. If she had to speak, she’d sound choked up. And then he’d ask what was wrong, and she’d have to lie and say it was because she was upset about being kidnapped. She couldn’t tell him, “I can’t help falling for you, but no matter how brave you think I am, you’ll never feel the same way about me, and it’s breaking my heart.”
Shane stood up. “I’ll go wash my hands.”
Once she heard the bathroom door click shut and the sink start running, she mopped at her eyes and sniffed hard. By the time he returned, she’d recovered her composure and could re-start the conversation.
When they went to bed, he again fell asleep almost immediately. He hadn’t mentioned his nightmare and she hadn’t brought it up, but she hadn’t forgotten about it. She hoped he’d sleep through the night.
Chapter Five
Catalina
If Shane had another nightmare, it didn’t wake her up. She slept so soundly that he practically had to drag her out of bed the next morning.
“Do you want a shower or not?” he demanded.
She burrowed back under the covers. “You take yours first.”
“Nah, that’s not going to work out.” He yanked off the blanket. “Shower now, or don’t shower till tonight.”
She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. Still half-asleep, she didn’t wonder until Shane had vanished into the bathroom why he was so determined that she take the first one. But when Dr. Elihu and the guards showed up ten minutes later, she remembered the morning before and realized that it was so she wouldn’t risk having them yank the door open while she was naked.
He could’ve just said so, Catalina thought. But it was a sweet thought. Sweet, hot, closed-mouthed bodyguard.
“Shane’s in the shower,” she told the doctor.
Dr. Elihu ignored her and jerked his thumb at the nearest guard. The guard yanked open the bathroom door.
Shane pulled back the shower curtain and turned off the water. Once again, he stood naked and dripping wet, in full view of every
one in the room and the corridor. But he didn’t seem embarrassed at all.
Looking straight at Dr. Elihu, he said, “If you’re that eager to see me naked, you could just order me to take off my clothes.”
The doctor flushed bright red. “Garrity, shut that door!”
With a catlike smile, Shane unhurriedly closed the bathroom door.
For the rest of the day, which consisted of still yet more medical tests, every now and then Catalina would recall that incident and laugh aloud.
Exasperated, Dr. Elihu finally snapped, “If you’re hoping to convince me to drop you from the ultimate predator program on the basis of psychosis, you’ll have to do better than inappropriate laughter.”
“I was remembering Shane making you blush,” Catalina retorted. “It’s very appropriate.”
“I don’t blush,” the doctor snapped, and stuck her extra-hard with a hypodermic needle.
When she was returned to the room that evening, Shane again seemed to have been exercising. He was barefoot and shirtless, his chest glistening with sweat, crouched on the floor like some great cat about to pounce. The guards didn’t give him a chance to look up and terrify them, but shoved Catalina inside and slammed the door.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” Catalina said brightly.
Shane sat up, playing along. “How was your day at the office?”
“My boss is an asshole. Otherwise, not too bad. How about you, how was your day?”
“Being a homemaker isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he replied, deadpan. “I’m thinking of re-entering the work force.”
She sat down on her cot. “What were you doing when I came in?”
“Karate. Did you ever study martial arts?”
She shook her head. “My family couldn’t afford lessons when I was young, and I never got around to it later.”
He tilted his head, regarding her with those cool predator’s eyes. “But you’ve fought. I can tell. What was it, street fighting?”
“Sort of. I was just a teenager.”
“I enlisted when I was eighteen,” Shane pointed out. “It counts. Who’d you fight?”