Protecting Medusa

by Elizabeth Andrews

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “Four hours. About as long as the pill is good for.” He stretched out beside her, stroking over the top of her head. “Which means you’ll get another nap, then be awake for supper and the call to Jason, before you get back to bed.”

  Philomena considered his plan. “I appreciate all this, Ryder,” she said finally.

  “Stop.” He kissed her forehead. “Like it or not, my Mena, you’re family. I take care of what’s mine.”

  Equal measures of panic and warmth bloomed in her chest. His. She wasn’t sure she liked that.

  Yet another part of her really did like the notion. That she might be able to relax her guard occasionally and know someone else was watching out for her.

  She frowned. Too risky.

  Jason’s dad. Desi’s ex-lover.

  Somehow, that argument didn’t have quite the same effect it had previously.

  Before Philomena had become Ryder’s lover.

  She swallowed, more panic welling up. How on earth had she let this happen? She couldn’t trust him to stick around. Her father hadn’t.

  “You’re thinking too hard again, smart girl,” he said softly, his warm breath sliding over her scalp. His fingers at her nape massaged the tight muscles there.

  “I’m fine.”

  He laughed, just as there was a knock on the door to the outer room. “Liar.” He rolled out of bed. “I’ll be back with lunch.”

  She rubbed her hand harder over her cramping belly and tried to concentrate on the pain, rather than the tangled knot of emotion trying to clog her throat. Her brain wasn’t functional enough to deal with it right now.

  “Uh-oh.” She heard him set a tray on the dresser, and then his weight depressed the mattress beside her. “Bad?” His fingers stilled her frantic rubbing.

  “Not as bad as it could be.” Let him believe it was just the cramps. He didn’t need to know the effect he was having on her emotions. Not when she knew this could only be temporary.

  “I don’t think I believe that.” He drifted a kiss along her cheek. “Can you sit up?” He helped her, then stuffed pillows behind her. “All right. Lunch, then another pill.” He moved away, then returned, and she smelled the soup.

  It smelled good. Like her mom’s.

  Her eyes stung behind the mask.

  “Open.” The enticing aroma got closer, and she opened her mouth so he could spoon the soup into her.

  Hot tears spilled over beneath the blindfold, and she swallowed hard. The lump in her throat would choke her while she ate her lunch.

  “Hey, what’s this?” He touched her wet cheek. “Mena?”

  She shook her head. “Stupid hormones. It smells like Mom’s soup.” She swiped at her other cheek. She didn’t think anyone would fault her for one small untruth. It did smell like her mom’s, he just didn’t need to know that wasn’t the whole reason she was crying.

  “Ah, baby.” He kissed her, gently. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m fine. As fine as I can be.” She lifted one shoulder half-heartedly.

  Ryder sighed, and she tried to imagine his expression. Would he be frustrated at not being able to solve the problem, or would he doubt her words? He was so over-confident, frustration was a given. He exhaled again, then the spoon clinked against the bowl. “Open for me, honey.”

  Philomena let him feed her, feeling more tears slip down her face. She didn’t try to wipe them away, not wanting to draw any more attention to them.

  Finally, he set the bowl aside, and the pill bottle rattled.

  “I need to go to the bathroom first,” she said, sniffling.

  “Okay.” He set the bottle aside, then flipped the blankets off of her, catching her hand to guide her to the other room. “I’ll be right here.” He pulled the door shut, and she flipped the mask up, blinking in the bright light of the bathroom.

  She wiped both hands over her cheeks, annoyed at herself, then moved in front of the mirror. She looked a fright, her face pale and pinched, though the tip of her nose was pink from crying, and her eyes were a little swollen. She grabbed a tissue to blow her nose, then took care of other business, like brushing her teeth. Her belly twisted painfully, and she ground her teeth against the moan trying to escape, gripping the edge of the vanity until the pain eased slightly.

  She reached for the mask, then paused. The vibrator lay on the vanity, the tube of cleaner beside it. More tears welled up. She was being stupid. Damned hormones made her overreact to all kinds of things, but this was the dumbest thing ever. Of course he would have cleaned the toy after they’d finished with it. He was an adult.

  She sniffed again, her eyes burning as two more fat tears slid down her face, hot against her skin. She swiped them away, then tugged the mask back into place, willing herself to keep the rest of the threatening tears at bay until she was in bed. Preferably alone.

  She tapped on the door, and Ryder opened it. He took her hand, silently led her to the bed, then handed her a pill and a glass of juice. She took them and let him settle her beneath the blankets with the heating pad tucked against her aching belly.

  “I’ll be in the next room, baby,” he murmured, his mouth sliding over her forehead, then her mouth, “if you need anything.”

  Gods, please go, she thought, the tears still scalding her eyes. She nodded once, biting her lip in an effort to keep the tears from spilling over.

  Just a little longer.

  Finally, he got to his feet and padded out of the room.

  She curled onto her side, away from the door, hugging the heating pad close and stifling her sobs in the pillow, which quickly grew wet under her cheek.

  “Ah, baby,” Ryder groaned as he stretched out behind her.

  Her breath caught in her chest.

  “It’s all right.” He wrapped his arm around her, sliding his other beneath her head. “Go ahead and cry. I’ll be right here.”

  That only made her cry harder, and panic bubbled up. She wasn’t going to be able to stop. Not with him holding her this way.

  He petted her, his fingers brushing her forehead, her wet cheeks. His strong body curved around hers as if he could absorb some of the pain.

  Philomena cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. Her entire body ached, not just her belly. Her eyes burned, her head throbbed, and her throat hurt from the ragged sobs she couldn’t contain. When it finally ended, she lay there limply, her heart pounding in her ears, her breath coming in hiccups.

  Ryder still held her.

  If she’d had any tears left, she would’ve cried again at that. She simply didn’t know what to do with him. She hadn’t let herself imagine a man in her life since she was in high school. Not one who would stick around.

  “Go to sleep, Mena,” he whispered, settling her nearer. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  She was very afraid it was a promise he couldn’t keep.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryder almost felt like crying himself by the time Mena finally passed out from a combination of the painkiller and sheer exhaustion after her crying jag. He didn’t know why she was crying. Only that the sound was so wrenching, it nearly broke his heart.

  Somehow he didn’t believe it was just hormones, either, though they probably amplified whatever the problem was.

  When her breathing evened out at last, not even anymore tiny hiccups, he took a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow. If he could’ve done anything more to make her feel better, he would.

  He wondered if she realized that.

  He finally eased upright, tucking the blankets closer around her before he stood. Her dark braids remained intact, which was good for him--one on top of the blankets, the other sticking out from beneath her chin on the pillow. No sign of snakes. Her cheeks were pink and tear-stained, her lips slightly swollen, as was her nose.

  He went to the bathroom for a washcloth. He soaked it under cool water and then returned to her side to clean her face, hoping he wouldn’t disturb her. When he’d finis
hed, he resisted the temptation to curl up behind her on the bed again and went out to the sitting room and started his laptop. He needed to see what was going on in the rest of their world.

  He scowled at Joel’s latest email from Virginia. “How do none of the listening devices work?” he muttered. Obviously, the Harvesters meeting inside the estate had something to scramble any signals for anybody outside trying to listen in on their conversations. But who did they think was spying on them?

  It was an intriguing question. Kallan Tassos? Probably not, since he was only one man--one man intent on protecting his former Medusa.

  He paced the sitting room for half an hour, unable to scrape together an answer. He fired off emails to Joel and Danny to see if they could come up with anything, then composed another email to Kallan, to see if he might be able to figure it out.

  He stuck his head into the bedroom, only somewhat mollified to find Mena sound asleep. He did turn the heating pad down a little, though, figuring the pain pill should have kicked in and dulled her cramps so the heating pad didn’t need to be on full bore.

  Then he returned to the sitting room and his laptop. Where to next?

  That would depend on the Harvesters.

  Still, he did some searching for ideas. Away from D.C. and Virginia obviously. Away from Philly and New York. Pittsburgh? He stared at the Chamber of Commerce webpage for a few moments. March in Pittsburgh was iffy, weather-wise. But it wouldn’t require them to provide identification to get on an airplane. And driving wouldn’t create a record someone could hack into, the way a plane reservation would.

  He saved the page, scanned through a few more, but couldn’t decide. Not yet.

  Ryder glanced at the time on his screen. Nearly suppertime. That meant another pill for Mena soon.

  How was he going to get her through two more days of this? Already, the very first day, she’d cried herself to sleep, and he’d been unable to do anything about it.

  He wondered if this was what full-time fathering would be like.

  He hadn’t sprung that one on Mena yet and didn’t intend to do so while they were on the run--and definitely not while she was suffering this way.

  Since he was out of the military and had quit working intelligence to partner with his buddies, he wanted to be with Jason all the time. He could do it now, making weekly or bi-weekly trips to the office if he had to. He’d already given the matter plenty of consideration, long before he realized the Harvesters were closing in on Mena’s location. But being with Jason would also mean being with Aggie and Mena full-time.

  A few years ago, if he’d made the same decision about his son, he would’ve arranged to live some place near his son’s aunt and grandmother so they could remain in his life as much as they wanted.

  Somewhere along the way, though, he’d decided he wanted Mena, too, long before he’d greeted her naked in her mother’s bathroom. Sometime after he’d realized the way she’d put her own life aside to raise her sister’s child, the way she chose men to date who would never be strong enough for her.

  Philomena Gregory was his.

  Ryder sighed, glancing at the open doorway to the bedroom. He didn’t know yet how he was going to convince her of that. In the meantime, he had to satisfy himself with keeping her alive and out of reach of the Harvesters.

  Philomena sat wedged into the corner of the sofa, listening to Ryder talking to Jason and holding the hot water bottle tight to her belly while she waited for the painkiller to kick in.

  Her conversation with Jason had been short, as he’d been jumping around the kitchen wherever they were and playing with a dog.

  She suspected Danny had simply taken them to his house. Jason was having so much fun with the dog, he could barely speak to her, which made her feel teary again. She’d told him she loved him and held the phone out to Ryder, who apparently had an easier time getting his son to pay attention to him. Hearing their conversation didn’t make her feel any better.

  She shut her eyes behind the mask and rested her head against the sofa. She was not going to cry in front of Ryder again.

  When he finished his conversation, his weight depressed the cushion beside her just before his hand landed on her knee. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  He chuckled. “I know that’s a fat lie, Philomena.”

  She sighed. “I’m ready for bed.”

  His fingers tightened on her leg. “Already?”

  “Yes.” She ignored the stinging in her eyes.

  “How about if you stay here with me for a little while?” He shifted beside her, releasing her knee to slide his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’d rather lie down. I’m tired.” She hoped that didn’t sound as whiny to him as it did to her.

  He slid her onto his lap, careful not to dislodge the blanket tucked all around her. “How’s that pill doing?”

  Obviously, he wasn’t buying it. “It’s getting there.” She bit her lip to distract herself from the ache in her chest.

  She felt his fingers on one of her braids, then at her nape. “But you’re tired already?” His warm breath caressed the side of her face.

  She nodded. The burning had spread into her throat now, where a lump swelled, clogging her airway.

  “I wish you’d let me hold you for a while.” He nuzzled her cheek, his face stubbled.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

  “Are you going to cry?” he asked, sounding suspiciously like he was smiling.

  She shook her head.

  “It’s okay if you do.” He rubbed her back gently.

  “I just want to go to bed.” It came out a choked whisper.

  “Ah, baby.” He’d clearly heard the tears in her voice and hugged her tighter against his chest. “All right.” He got to his feet, keeping her in his arms. His stride was easy, and a moment later, he set her on the bed.

  But he didn’t leave, damn him.

  No, Ryder’s boots thumped to the floor and she heard the soft whoosh of his clothing following, then he climbed in with her.

  Philomena swallowed around the lump in her throat. Then again. “I’ll be fine, Ryder.” It was louder than a whisper, but still hoarse.

  He gathered her close, so she could feel the heat of him through her nightshirt, even around the hot water bottle. “I know. And I’ll be here until then.” He settled behind her. “Relax.” He swept his hand up and down her arm, then over her belly.

  She felt the stupid tears sliding under the bottom and side of the mask again and let them go, her breath coming unevenly.

  Ryder just held her tight, soothing her, wiping away her tears, and massaging her aching back until she fell asleep. Where she dreamed of him. Making love to her. Hard and fast, slow and teasing.

  When she woke later, her belly cramped hard, and her pulse thrummed from the pleasure he’d given her in her dream.

  The pleasure still to come.

  And there was pleasure, even in the midst of this hellish period--while she propped herself on the wall of the shower and he filled her with the toy he’d chosen for her, teased her with it until she came hard, screaming his name.

  Aristotle glared at his computer. No sign of the monster since Gregos had lost her and the man four days ago.

  The Goddess would be livid if She learned of this failure. He had let Elek deal with his nephews, choosing to remain silent while Elek gave them new instructions and sent them back to Philadelphia. He’d had no choice, because his anger made his heart race too fast. Too hard. So much that he’d required more than one of his pills simply to sit through the short meeting. He would show them no weakness.

  No, the weak one had been his brother Iphis, and he was gone long ago, taking his shameful secrets with him.

  He frowned at his wandering thoughts and dragged his attention to the email on his screen.

  Ware’s computer system was impenetrable so far, as were his office building, which also housed his apartment.

  Aristotle shut
his eyes and sank back in the chair. Even if he did not tell Her, Athena would know of this latest failure by Her Harvesters, and he didn’t know how much longer Her patience with them would last. He feared not long. Goddess help them then.

  When she woke two days later and carefully stretched, Ryder slept beside her. No more cramps.

  Thank the Gods.

  Philomena eased the blindfold off, blinking in the dim light from the lamp on the night table. Better.

  Even better than the way she felt was the way Ryder looked. Her heartbeat quickened as her gaze slid over his face, surrounded by tousled blond hair, his cheeks stubbled--three days’ worth, if she wasn’t mistaken. One of his arms was beneath her neck, and the other held her close to him, keeping her warm.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled. He smelled so good.

  She frowned. He couldn’t be hers. Or, rather, he wouldn’t want to be hers. Not forever. No man would want that, to be saddled with a monster like her.

  Easing away, she tiptoed into the bathroom to unbraid her hair, then into the shower. She stood for several minutes with her face turned to the hot spray, eyes closed as she deliberately cleared her mind and concentrated on how much better she felt than she had for days.

  “Hey.”

  She opened her eyes in time to see Ryder stepping into the shower. “Hi.” Her pulse quickened.

  “How’re you feeling?” He picked up the soap and started to lather his hands.

  “Better.” Her brain went immediately to places best left alone.

  “Good.” He gave her a lazy smile, then slid his slick hands over her, from shoulders to her arms, over her back, her belly. Her breasts tingled in anticipation, but he skipped them for now, his fingers slipping through the bubbles he’d tracked over her skin. “I’m glad to hear it.” He slid one hand to cup her breast at last. “I think we’re going to check out of here today.” His thumb teased over her nipple, distracting her from his words. “Head west a little ways.” He treated her other breast to the same teasing caresses, then turned her to face him, catching her mouth roughly. “Gods, I’ve missed you, Mena mine.”