On the High Seas Page 2
She hadn’t however, her brown eyes were wide and a bit unfocused.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Bane?” His heart stopped. “Can it be?”
Then she passed out, only his quick reaction stopping her from hitting hard. He used one arm to guide her slowly to lie down. His hands shook, actually shook, as he taped the IV in place.
Baby Boy reentered. “Hell, never thought I’d see the day you calmed a hysterical woman. What the hell were you thinking approaching her without your tac vest on?”
Galen didn’t answer, just stared at the comatose woman who’d called him a name from years past. He ran a hand down his face and ran her name over in his mind. Taryn. Taryn Jeffers. Tari to him. Jeez, he hadn’t thought about her in more than ten years. And hadn’t made the connection when he’d heard the name Taryn, just recalled the name as familiar.
“Galen.” Fingers snapped before his eyes.
“She can have my room. Have someone take her there.”
“What?” Baby Boy’s tone incredulous.
“Just do it.”
Tari meant a revisit to his past. He had to put some distance between them. The longer he spent with her, the harder it would be to carry that out.
“I’ll get her there, Galen. You go ask them who her family is.”
He strode to the door. “She doesn’t have one.” It never occurred to him she may have married.
“How do you know?”
At the door, he paused to swallow hard. “Trust me, I just do.” Shoving back the swarming memories he left, tac vest in hand and hurried to his room to clean it out.
Once he claimed a spot for himself, he headed up topside to the deck and leaned against the rail. Night still full upon them just as quiet and velvet as it had been before they’d boarded. The water flowed undisturbed as if they’d never sunk the ship. Amazing how a large ship could be erased so easily by water. Yet now everything was different. So different.
Ryder showed up beside him spiky blond hair briefly illuminated in the light before the door closed behind him.
“You okay, man?”
The question of the day.
“Just fine. Ready to get home.” And far away from Taryn.
Ryder grunted. “I’ve got watch. Use my rack, I heard you gave yours up.”
“Thanks.”
He would take him up on it. With a farewell, he slipped back inside and went to catch some much-needed z’s. As he got ready, he couldn’t help but think about the girl who had been the only truly kind person to him in school. His dreams were full of unwanted memories from when he had been the undersized skinny outsider who a horrified school life and not much better one at home.
Daily beatings, malnourishment, and more. All of that changed the day he met Taryn. She’d been an outsider as well. A quiet girl who began bringing him food and helping him with schoolwork. For two years, they’d been friends, until the day her parents died and she moved to family somewhere else in the country. He never saw her again.
Tari. Gentle Tari to his Bane.
Chapter Two
It must have been her imagination. Taryn sighed and stared out the porthole. That is the only thing that makes sense. And yet it seemed so tangible. Right there before her eyes, close enough to touch. She shook her head. It didn’t make sense, she hadn’t seen the man again.
She saw a man named Baby Boy and had been assured with her own eyes, John, Martha, and Geoff were also recovering. She had no clue where they were headed, all she got was home. In truth, nothing else mattered.
Her shoulder ached. Hell, she ached. She snorted. Another scar. With absent strokes she rubbed the cicatrix, which ran the length of her right forearm, the only thing she got from the accident that took her parents from her. A car accident. She stared across the endless expanse of water. The desire to sit out in the sun was a powerful one, but the man who introduced himself as Baby Boy insisted she remain inside for her own safety.
So, she’d been in this room out of sight. Alone. Again. However, this time she’d enjoyed a shower and had access to all the food she could desire. Therein lay the issue. She had zero appetite. None. Which she thought odd, she should be starving.
She twisted the hem of the large olive green shirt she’d been given in her fingers wishing she had a craving to eat. Baby Boy had provided her with a pair of scrub bottoms, so now she wore those. The door opened and her gasp caught in her throat as he stepped through and closed the door behind him. Her heart began thundering in her chest. He hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all.
The man was not small by any means. Over six feet tall he had black hair, which looked windblown, thick black lashes that semi concealed quicksilver eyes. Sharp features were covered by tanned skin and his jaw by stubble. He wore dark pants with two thigh holsters, complete with sidearms. A black shirt amplified the power of his upper body. His biceps strained against the sleeve cuffs.
Damn the man was fine!
In one hand, he held a tray and with each step he took the room shrank a bit more. He had no gentle expression on his angled face. In fact, it was wiped clean of any and all emotion. Cold. Unfeeling. Those were only two of the words, which surfaced in her mind. And yet...she couldn’t help but wonder. She did after all, remember him calming her, and how gentle he’d been then.
Watching his every move she couldn’t help but be impressed by the jungle cat like flow to his form. Dangerous. Predatory. Her mouth grew dry as unbidden the thought of being his scampered through her mind.
“They said you haven’t been eating.” His voice fell monotone and unaffected, yet deep and smooth.
Why did he care? Better question, why did she want to smile over the concern his presence here displayed?
He placed the food next to her drawn up legs. If he noticed her stiffen, he didn’t address it. No, he settled his large body down on the other end of the narrow bed, back to the wall and stared at her. Unable to hold his gaze she averted her eyes and stared back out the circle of glass.
“I am not leaving until the tray is cleaned, Taryn, so you may as well eat.” His words were low and composed.
The way he spoke her name made her belly tighten with sexual awareness. Get a grip, T. The mental reprimand did very little in the way of returning common sense.
Rotating her head, she met his stare. Those eyes of his were hooded, almost like a hawk, either way they were the eyes of a predator.
“Thank you,” she said dropping her eyes to the tray beside her. Bread, meat, cheese, and fruit, sat on it.
He didn’t seem moved by her gratitude. Not even slightly. Those argent eyes blinked and continued to watch her.
“Eat.”
Clearly a man used to issuing orders and having them followed. Her stomach didn’t seem to keen on the idea but she realized it would be better to at least try. That way if she puked on him he would have seen her attempt to eat.
“Don’t blame me when I hurl on you.”
His stare subsisted on her seemingly unaware of her not-so-subtle threat. She reached for a piece of bread and pressed back into the corner. Tearing off little chunks, she ate it. Sourdough. His gaze remained on her face before it dropped pointedly to the tray and back up again.
A slice of apple in hand she bit it and returned the unblinking observation. Again struck by his handsomeness as well as that tingle of recognition.
“Who are you?” she queried needing something to break the ice.
He never blinked. “Names aren’t important.”
Yet he knew hers. She ate slowly, studying him. If her perusal both
ered or offended him, he never let on. It has to be him. Or else I’m really going crazy.
Her eyes trailed over him, committing every stat on his impressive physique. The thoughts he evoked in her may not make sense given what she’d just gone through, but there it was. He had this sexual beacon, which drew her.
“What happened?” His question startled her.
“Not important.”
His eyes glinted dangerously. Silent, she reached for a piece of cheddar and chewed it slowly. Swallowing she took a deep breath and grabbed the bull by the horns. It’s now or never.
“How long are you going to pretend we don’t know one another?”
He wasn’t quick enough to hide his reaction and she knew she hadn’t been seeing things last night when she came up close and personal with the mark that identified him to her.
She sat up and crossed her legs. “Well, Galen?”
Why he didn’t want to acknowledge her she didn’t know. Nor did she understand why it hurt.
“You’ve made a mistake,” he said his tone dispassionate.
“Really? I don’t think so because I don’t know many Taryn’s.” She shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right and I am. Either way, you can prove it.”
He lifted a jet-black brow, no expression on his face. This man was so unlike the Galen she remembered in physical appearance. The withdrawn attitude struck her as familiar though. However, back then she had been allowed in, now he treated her with the same cold indifference he’d used on others.
Finding some courage, she sighed then spoke. “Show me the back of your neck.”
He crossed his arms in a bored manner while his gaze became increasingly menacing. “Why?”
It was him. The realization made her almost smile. Moving with caution of her injuries, she got on her knees and shuffled towards him. Even with one eye still extremely swollen, she could at least see through it. His gaze riveted upon her face and she fought the urge to hide her bruises from him.
“Because the Galen I knew had a Tac on the back of his neck.” His eyes began to burn with a savage inner fire. She recognized it for what it was, a warning. One she disregarded. “It was branded there by his bitch of a mother who believed he was an evil child.”
She halted when her knees were beside his muscular thigh. Lethality shimmered in the depths of his unblinking eyes and they narrowed slightly.
“Sounds painful,” he remarked causally, as if his gaze hadn’t begun burning a hole through her.
He didn’t fool her for he radiated tension. “We were friends once, Bane,” she said using the nickname he’d given himself. “I know you remember me. However, if you are going to insist on pretending we’ve never met, then prove me wrong. Show me your neck.”
Something changed. Something hot ignited in his eyes as he stared at her. Her reaction went all the way to the molecular level. She understood attraction and knew it existed for the man in front of her. Resting on her heels, she cocked her head to the side.
“Come on,” she taunted.
“You seem to be under the impression I care.”
“You do,” she said with assuredness. “But you don’t have to show me. We both know who you are. How have you been? You’re looking good.”
Understatement of the year but hey, who could have predicted undersized, skinny Galen Maxwell would have evolved into this mouthwatering specimen. Skin and bones had transformed into hard muscle and danger.
She saw the resignation in his eyes before he said another word. He licked his firm bow-shaped lips before they twisted into a cynical grin.
“You don’t know me anymore, Tari,” he said with cryospheric authority. “I’m a far cry from that spineless wimp I used to be.” The self-abhorrence at his past weakness broadsided her. “I’m a dangerous man.”
Tari, his nickname for her. He warned her again. Much like he’d tried to do in school. And just like then, she trusted her gut and paid no heed to the scantily veiled threat. She didn’t move back just stared into eyes, which had darkened, into the hue and hardness of gunmetal.
“I know. I’m not scared of you, Galen ‘Bane’ Maxwell. You would never hurt me.”
Her response took him by surprise for he inhaled sharply, he shoved to his feet, and strode to the door. Moments before he vanished behind it, he turned and came close, stopping at the edge of the bed.
On her heels as she was, he still towered over her. She understood it to be an attempt at intimidation but it didn’t work on her. With a light lick of her lips—an action which his mercurial gaze followed—she gravitated towards him with a deliberately casual movement.
“What happens now, Galen Maxwell? Do you put your hands on me and try to convince me I’m in danger from you?”
“Don’t try to goad me, Tari.”
“Why not? According to you, we don’t know one another, so how would I know how to goad you one way or another? I mean, you are after all a dangerous man.”
The words slid past her lips even though she acknowledged this Galen was a much different man that she’d known as a boy. A hot ass man. As she waited there, she longed to experience the touch of his firm lips upon hers. Her belly tightened at the thought.
His eyes fell to her lips as if reading her mind and she dug her fingers into her palms to keep from actually reaching out and touching the stubbled jaw line. With a muttered curse, he raked a tanned hand through his dark hair, and then stormed out. His parting words before the door slammed behind him were, “Finish the goddamn tray!”
She settled back upon the thin mattress and reached for the tray only to push it further away, something other than food prevalent on her mind.
Galen.
αβ
Unaware of Tari’s thoughts, Galen swore a continuous litany as his long strides ate up the narrow passageway. Damn her. Damn her! She’d been through an agonizing situation and his mind lingered on sex. How could it not be? She’d sat on the bed, all dirt and grime washed off. The cuts and bruises were apparent and refreshed his anger at what she’d been through but they in no way wrested from her serene beauty. The years had been wonderful to her.
Her black hair had a slight wave to it and fell about her shoulders in silken folds. Mocha skin called to his fingers to touch. And to top it all off she wore one of his shirts. The olive material hung off her frame, reminding him how small her stature was in actuality to him. He knew Baby Boy had given her a pair of scrubs to wear and they also engulfed her smaller form.
She’d sat there, unafraid, taunting him, daring him to be half as dangerous as he’d claimed. Tari had it right, he could never, would never hurt her. Didn’t stop him from wanting to cover her plush lips with his own and...
“Damn it to fucking hell!”
“What’s up, Galen?”
He jerked his head to the left and found Ryder leaning against the wall, peeling an apple, ankles hooked. They were dressed identically all the way down to dual thigh holsters.
“Nothing,” he growled.
Ryder lifted a brow, disbelief etched across his features. Of all the men who made up this ragtag group of misfits, he got along best with the man he currently faced.
“Good. I was almost concerned that little darlin’ in there had gotten under your skin.”
His lip lifted in silent warning. Ryder snorted and spun the knife through nimble fingers before cutting another bite off.
“What gives, man? Since the day we met, I’ve never seen you rattled. Especially with a woman.”
Galen sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black BDU’s. “I know her.” Then he walked out onto the open deck and sat down. Ryder followed him to the clean surface.
“Ex?”
A snort escaped. “No. We were in middle school together. Tari was the lone person in my childhood who treated me like a person. That actually gave a damn. Not that I didn’t try to keep her at a distance. The two of us were outcasts at school. Me because I was undersized, an easy target, and poorer than dirt. Tari,
because she was two grades ahead. She helped me.” He dropped his head back to rest against the side despising this trip down memory lane.
“So why the anger? She’s fine now, we got to her in time.” Ryder tossed the core over the side. “Did you two have a fight in school?”
“No. We had two years of friendship. Then she left.” Galen stared down at his hands. “Her parents were killed in a car crash and whichever relative took her in moved her. I saw her last when I was fourteen. She was twelve.”
Ryder pinned him with eyes the color of the sea. “So what’s with the cussin’?” He ground his jaw, unwilling to answer, instead he stared up at the azure sky. “Holy fuck!” Ryder said with more than a gleam of understanding. “You’re attracted to her.”
“Shut it.” He didn’t want to acknowledge that much less hear someone verbalize it.
Ryder laughed and got nimbly to his feet. “You do know you’re allowed some emotion in your life, right? Just because we’re mercs doesn’t mean we only deal with detached visits to whores. If she’s making you feel something, then good. She ain’t twelve anymore man.” Without another look, the man strode away, leaving him alone.
Tari made him feel all right. Strong, powerful things a man like him had no business feeling. I can see she’s no longer twelve. She had blossomed into a beauty.
His mood foul, he made his way to the galley. The other three rescued persons were there, gathered around a small table. It still annoyed him they seemed so renitent to check on Tari.
The woman, Martha, met his gaze only briefly to blush and put it on something else. Hell, the way she stared at the fork in her hand it should have been conducting a damn symphony.
He stopped beside the table. “A word, ma’am.” He said it in a way where it fell as a command not a request.
She hesitated before standing and smoothing her hands down the legs of her borrowed pants. “Of course.”
He didn’t speak until they’d left the galley and had entered the makeshift infirmary. “Leave,” he barked.
Baby Boy stood, gave him a look reminding him he was doing this because he wanted to, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be pushed out of his own realm. His eyes followed until the heavy hatch closed, breaking off the view. Then he pivoted to stare at the slender woman and sized her up.