Chapter Six
Growing up with eleven rambunctious brothers, Riya had dealt with a lot of concussions over the years. Since she didn’t have a handy cow bell to clang in Marcus’s ear at ten minute intervals, she settled on the next best thing.
“What are you doing to me?” Marcus blearily looked around the living room of his apartment. “Why am I tied to this chair?”
“So you won’t fall off and smack that thick head of yours.”
Marcus groaned softly. “It feels like I’ve already gone a couple of rounds with the floor. Or did I imagine that?”
Riya gave him her best innocent look, which involved two carefully choreographed blinks and a half smile. “You must be imagining it. You said there was an explosion, I’m pretty sure you’re suffering from a concussion. And some chemical burns. You should have put something on those immediately, nasty.”
Marcus frowned. Okay, things were starting to make sense. Yes, there had been a chemical explosion gone wrong when he’d tried to destroy the five chaos rubies earlier this morning. He could still taste burnt metal coating the back of his throat which was now warring with the pungent aroma of lavender and herbs.
“I found some of Nell’s healing ointment in your bathroom and liberally applied it.”
Snip. Marcus jerked to the side. “What was that?”
“Stop squirming. I’m trying to give you a haircut here.”
“Seriously?” Marcus finally focused on Riya, standing only inches away, looking gorgeous and summery in a red dress. Holding a pair of lethal looking scissors close to his eyes. “Um… why?”
“Because I couldn’t just sit still waiting for you to heal, and your hair was driving me bonkers.” She ran a comb through the thick mass, lifting a lock up and cutting off half an inch.
Marcus jerked his head away. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?”
“Yes, now keep still.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Goddess, we’ve discussed those control issues of yours before, haven’t we? Just sit there and let me do all the heavy lifting.”
Marcus glanced down at the small towel draped over his shoulders and the big silk navy bow in the middle of chest, tying him to the chair. Riya had obviously grabbed the tie from his robe while she was in his bathroom. It would be a simple matter to pull the bow undone and get up… but for some reason he wasn’t moving. “I should get back to work.”
“Not in your current condition. You need some serious healing time and a good night’s sleep… once your concussion has cleared up. So, you want to tell me about this explosion you got caught up in?”
“I’ve been trying to find a way to destroy the rubies that Eli and Rafe stole. Sek and Mot need them to restore their father’s chaos mojo, so they can in turn betray him, suck it all down, and reign in Apep’s place as the Gods of Chaos.”
Snip. Riya leant in, running the comb through Marcus’s thick hair. Snip. “And you’ve been working on this project for what… six months now?”
“Closer to seven.” Marcus grit out. He despised admitting to failure but it wasn’t like it was a big secret or anything.
“Seven months?” Riya hummed under her breath, working her way around to the base of his neck. “You must be getting increasingly… creative?”
Marcus chuffed a laugh. “You can use the word frustrated, and I am. The recipe for rocket fuel I put together this morning should have been effective. But the damn fire ruby just soaked it all up and then decided to spit it all back out again.”
“Sounds dangerous. Rocket fuel?”
“What a waste of time. Two days setting up layers upon layers of shell companies just so I can order the damn chemicals and… boom, all that effort gone up in smoke.”
Riya thumped Marcus on the shoulder. “You’re an idiot. You could have died this morning. You were lucky to walk away with chemical burns, bruises and a concussion. I bet if you’d been human you’d be dead.”
“But I’m not human, I wasn’t seriously hurt.” Marcus was weirdly enjoying Riya standing so close to him. Feeling her breath sweep across his skin as she leaned in to comb and cut his hair. It felt intimate. Just the two of them, here alone in his apartment.
“You’ve started on the slippery slope though; I’ve seen it with my brothers. That combination of frustration and out of the box creativity. Always aiming for the bigger bang. The hottest ignition point.”
“Your brothers are scientists?”
Riya chuffed a derisive laugh. “Entertainers.”
“Aahhhh.”
“Oh, I can practically feel the judgement oozing off of you, Charming. You have a problem with what my brothers do for a living?”
“No, not at all.”
Riya combed out some more of his thick, glossy, midnight hair, snip, snip. “That’s so unlike you not to have an opinion.”
“You are holding a lethal weapon rather close to my eyes.” Marcus pointed out.
Riya ducked to the side, leaning over, flashing him an evil smile. “Eyes? Don’t be foolish, you’d protect those, I’d go through the ear. One quick stab.”
“That’s very reassuring.” And weirdly hot.
“Come on Mr Bigshot-Reality-TV star, you know you want to share your thoughts.”
Marcus couldn’t help but laugh. He’d momentarily forgotten about his own cover. “I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to sit in judgement.”
“Yes it would. And the fact that you realise that means that there is some hope for you yet.”
Riya made one last little snip and stepped back to survey her work. She was good. And damn, if possible, Charming looked even hotter. He was totally rocking the sleek short executive look she’d given him. There was no barrier now to hide those stunning dark ocean blue eyes. Or detract from that strong jaw or those sensual lips. Crap, she should have left well enough alone.
“Problem?” It had been a long time between snips.
“Not at all, in fact, I’m done.” Riya whipped the towel off Marcus’s shoulders with a flourish. “I can fetch a mirror if you’d like?”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Thanks.” Marcus reached up, easily pulling undone the bow, releasing himself. “I should get back to work.”
“Hey. No way.” Riya placed her hands on Marcus’s shoulders, preventing him from getting up. “You are not going anywhere, except to bed.”
“Bed?” Marcus shot her a questioning look. Something about that word. Something about having Riya so close. Touching him. “Hey, I… we… did something happen between us earlier?”
“Earlier?” Riya would have liked to have let Marcus go and take two, hmmm, better make that ten big steps back. But she’d committed herself to seeing him healed and rested. She would not back away now just because those hypnotic blue eyes were only inches away, suddenly banked with heat and curiosity. She needed to remember how little respect Marcus had for her, for her magic. “Nothing happened between us.”
Marcus looked across the room. “I vaguely remember being on the floor.”
“Oh, that. You fell down. Stumbled over your own feet you were so out of it.”
Marcus hesitated, with little effort he could easily dislodge her hold, but Riya was practically sitting in his lap, he’d be a fool not to enjoy the moment. “I really do need to get back to work. Write up the results from this morning’s little experiment. Check if anything has come through on the Sek and Mot hunt.” Damn, Riya smelled good.
“When’s the last time you slept? Eight solid hours?”
“I don’t really need all that much sleep.”
“Which is not answering my question. When?”
Marcus shrugged carefully, so as not to dislodge those slender feminine hands. “I don’t remember. But like I said, I don’t need much down time.” And he didn’t want to admit that lately, when he did sleep, his dreams were chaotic and disturbing. Leaving him feeling more tired than before he’d gone to bed.
“And eaten? Something substantial and took the time to savour and enjoy it?”
Marcus shook his head, coming up blank.
“I’ve said it before and no doubt I’ll say it again, you’re an idiot.”
“Now who’s being judgemental?”
“You love quoting all those scientific studies, what do they say about the ill-effects of not getting enough REM sleep and having a healthy diet?” Riya didn’t wait for Marcus’s response, reaching out and cuffing him lightly up the side of the head. “Idiot.”
Marcus should have pushed Riya away, marched her out of his apartment and headed for his office to get back to work. But damn it, she’d just cuffed him up the side of the head, and he found that amusing as hell. And he kind of liked the look of concern that filled those hazel green eyes of hers. Concern? For him? When was the last time any woman had taken the time or cared enough to bully him into putting his well-being first?
“I…” Marcus frowned and looked down and then up to find Riya gifting him with a grin of pure satisfaction. Desire clenched his gut. “How did you manage that?” He glanced back down at his wrists that were now securely tied together by the navy silk belt. The effect was only marginally spoiled by yet another big bow.
“Come on.” Riya grabbed Marcus’s bound wrists and tugged. “I’m making you something to eat. And after, if you are very clever and can say the alphabet backwards, proving you are concussion free, then I am putting you to bed.”
Another bolt of desire shot through Marcus’s gut, targeting his cock. Perplexed, he found himself letting Riya pull him to his feet, following her as she led the way to his state of the art kitchen, set against the far wall in his open planned apartment.
“Do you always tie up men to get your own way?” He queried, missing Riya’s touch the moment she let go of him, pushing him down on to a bar stool. Relaxing back, he watched as she rounded the kitchen island and began exploring the contents of his pantry and refrigerator.
Riya grabbed the items she wanted, laying them down on the island bench. Marcus’s kitchen was very well stocked, though the contents could be considered a little eclectic. The man was obviously a fiend for jello, if the large tub of it in the fridge was any indicator.
“Well?” Marcus watched as Riya flicked on the gas burners, placing a skillet over one and a wire rack over the other.
“Hmmm? Oh, the tying up thing? Of course. Read any women’s magazine, it’s like number three on the top five recommended ways to control the wayward man in your life.” Riya smiled, grabbing some glasses, filling them with mineral water before chopping a lime in two and squeezing in the juice. “Here, let’s start on re-hydrating you.”
“Thanks.” Marcus took the glass, his hands still bound, and drank down half the contents. Refreshing. Clearing away the lingering burnt metal taste that had been coating the back of his throat instantly. “What are the other four ways, just out of interest?”
Riya placed an eggplant and a bright red bell-pepper on the wire rack, using a pair of tongs to position them better over the high flame of the burner. “Oh, you know, just the usual kind of stuff that any woman has in her bag of tricks. Lingerie. Positive and negative training techniques. Subliminal messaging. Sex. You know, same old, same old.”
“Sounds like women’s magazines have come a long way from the Ladies Home Journal, and twenty smart recipes to stretch ground beef.”
Riya laughed, placing two chicken fillets between some baking paper, she picked up a rolling pin and began whacking them until they were flat. “Definitely things have changed. Today’s article would more likely be something along the lines of, twenty ways to please the beefcake in your life.”
“And he didn’t come back into your life?”
Riya looked up from where she was slicing lemons. “Who?”
“Your wayward man, or beefcake, or whatever you call him. Mr nameless? The father of your child?”
“Oh, him.” Riya turned, adding the chicken to the sizzling skillet, squeezing lemon over each piece and watching the liquid bubble. “No, he hasn’t turned up… yet.”
“You’re still holding out hope?” Every muscle in Marcus’s body locked as a red haze descended. His gut roiling. It was the injustice, he told himself. Riya should not be left alone with the burden of raising a child as a single mom.
“You know me, I’m a big believer in Fate. He’ll be along sooner or later.”
Marcus shook his head. Unable to believe that a smart, gorgeous woman like Riya was still holding out hope that her spineless, shifty asshole sperm donor ex would come waltzing back into her life and they would live happily ever after.
Riya grabbed the tongs and turned the eggplant and bell-pepper before returning her attention to the chopping board she’d placed on the kitchen island. Grabbing a cucumber, she began slicing.
Marcus was pissed. Lifting his wrists, he bit down on the end of the silk belt and pulled, untying himself. “Now who’s the idiot?”
Riya’s gaze shot up hearing Marcus’s terse tone. “Excuse me?”
“You can’t seriously think that your asshole ex will just suddenly one day wake up and realise that he should do the right thing and be financially and personally responsible in helping to raise his child? You know, my offer still stands.”
Riya grabbed a tomato and began quartering it. “Offer?”
“To hunt him down. Make him do the right thing by you and the kid.” And if that lesson happened to involve his fists, well all the better.
Riya blinked slowly. “The right thing? You mean you’d force him to marry me?”
“Hell, no.” Okay, that came out a little harsher than he’d intended. “I wouldn’t want you to tie yourself to a guy who’s already proven he can’t be counted on. I was thinking more about the money. And maybe letting the kid get to know their father. And providing you with a full and complete family history for medical purposes.”
Riya picked up another tomato and began slicing. “That’s very… kind of you. But I don’t want anyone in my life who doesn’t want to be there.”
“Probably for the best. You wouldn’t want the kid to know what a loser their Dad is.”
Riya turned and flipped the chicken over and then checked on the grilling vegetables. “What about you? With the first mini-Elite Warrior about to be born, do you want kids?”
Marcus shook his head fast. He’d always been ambivalent on the question of children, leaning towards the negative. But he remembered holding the little girl in his arms the other day in the Southern Sanctuary. Feeling her heart beating against his chest. The way she smiled and smoothed his hair back. If you could guarantee a sweetie-pie like that… By The Sands, what was he thinking? How hard had he landed on his head?
“Kids and me? We don’t really mix.”
“Vaughn and Hadleigh must be so excited. I’m guessing they’re holed up in their apartment enjoying their final days of peace and quiet before the baby comes.”
“You haven’t caught up with Hadleigh since you arrived?”
“No. I texted her, but didn’t get a reply. So I thought I’d leave the happy couple to their nesting, or whatever it is new - about to be parents - do.” Riya scooped up some fresh thyme and sprinkled it on the chicken, turning off the burners.
“Uh, yeah… about that.”
Riya deposited the grilled eggplant and bell-pepper onto the chopping board. Grabbing a paper towel, she sloughed off the burnt red flesh of the pepper and then began slicing. “What’s going on? Is there a problem with the baby? Is Hadleigh alright?”
“The baby and Hadleigh are fine.” Marcus watched as Riya’s shoulders instantly relaxed. “It’s just that Vaughn and Hadleigh are kind of not speaking to one another at the moment.”
“Excuse me?” Riya absently divided some lettuce and the sliced vegetables between two plates. Topping the salad with some cubes of feta cheese. “What’s wrong with them? What did Hadleigh do?” She loved her cousin but she could be stubborn, bull-headed, and just plain mean sometimes.
“I think it might be more what Vaughn has done… is doing, that might be the problem.”
“Oh?” Riya placed the chicken on the plates, picked up a bottle of white balsamic vinegar and splashed a little over each of the salads. “Here.” She slid the plate across the counter to Marcus along with some cutlery. “Eat. And tell me what’s up with Vaughn.”
Hmm, Marcus took a bite, then a second and a third. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he began eating. Already his head felt a little clearer. “You have to remember that this is new territory for any of us. A baby? And you know how much Vaughn loves Hadleigh. Between you and me, I think the Captain is scared out of his mind that something will go wrong.”
“Oh, poor Vaughn.”
“More like poor Hadleigh. He’s hovering over her twenty-four seven… or trying to. Hadleigh locked herself in the multi-media room about a week ago, in an attempt to save his life. But Vaughn just won’t quit it. He’s always scratching at the door, bringing her glasses of milk and kale salads. Constantly checking up on her. Essentially smothering her with concern.”
“Is she okay in there? Maybe I should go check on her?”
“She’s fine. She has junk food being smuggled in by Pepsy, one of the camera guys. And I know for a fact she’s been skyping with Nell every afternoon, because I monitor the link.”
“What’s she doing in there?”
“Playing Call of Duty and Monsters of Elagnore, mostly. Beheading Ice Giants. Killing people. Taking her frustrations out on the big screen rather than on Vaughn. We’re all keeping our distance. You know what it’s like when a meld couple fight.”
Riya nibbled on a piece of chicken, nodding. Boy did she. Southern Sanctuary meld couples were notorious for their spectacular fights and their even more spectacular make-up sex. She knew of some couples who made it a habit to pick regular fights, just for the fun of it.
Problem was, meld couples emitted a lot of magic, it’s what kept the Southern Sanctuary magical grid operational and helped to hide the Sanctuary itself from the mundane world. When they fought. When they made up. When they had sex. Meld couples emitted waves of power and emotion. Being a bystander and getting caught in the backlash could get very uncomfortable.
Still, Hadleigh was one of Riya’s best friends. She hated to think that her cousin and Vaughn were missing out on enjoying this special time in their lives together because of fear and sheer pig headedness. Could they just talk out their problems? No. If Hadleigh couldn’t kill something she had no idea how to deal with it.
There had to be something Riya could do, if only Fate would step up and… oh, suddenly the silvery dress she’d been working on this morning made sense.
Honestly, she wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark at the moment if Fate would just lift the veil and let her catch glimpses of the person she was creating for and the decisions they were facing. But no, Fate could be tricky and contrary like that. Possibly not wanting Riya’s actions to influence the outcome directly, or just playing games. Who knew.
“What’s up? You suddenly look very intense.” Marcus ate the last bit of chicken and began making serious inroads into the salad remaining on his plate. Grilled and fresh vegetables mixed together were surprisingly tasty.
“I just connected some dots, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about. So, let’s talk about you and how you can have a better work and life balance.”
“Pardon?” Marcus’s eyebrow lifted briefly.
“You’re the one always going on about medical and scientific reports. You know what they say about stress, over-work and not taking time for yourself.”
“I’m an Elite Warrior, I take my stress out on the sparring mat and in the field. I don’t need yoga and granola in my life.”
Riya shook her head, her waterfall of raven black hair rippling like a river of moonlit water. “There is none so blind as those who preach, but won’t put into practise their own words.”
Marcus had cleaned his plate. Placing his cutlery down he scooped up his lime water and downed the last few mouthfuls. Damn, he felt like a new man thanks to Riya’s care. “Thank you, I needed that.” He was big enough to express his gratitude.
“You’re very welcome. But it doesn’t get you out of this discussion. Come on, Charming, you must see that you have way too much on your plate for one man.”
“I’m not a man, I’m an Elite Warrior.”
Riya scoffed a derisive laugh. “Who still has limits. Who can be hurt. Gets hungry, thirsty.”
“I have everything under control.”
“And we’re back to you and your control issues, no surprise there.”
“Some of us don’t have the luxury of sitting around on our ass all day knitting and sewing on buttons. Some of us are trying to save the world. We don’t get to rest, relax, or take a break from that.”
Riya’s eyes narrowed. Damn, every time she started to forget that Marcus was a judgemental, superior jerk, he went and reminded her. Which was so a good thing.
What had she been thinking hanging out with him in his cosy apartment? Which in itself had been a shock. She’d been expecting metal, lots of white and sort of futuristic. Instead it was kind of New York loft, with lots of warm woods, exposed brick, large comfy leather seating and little in the way of visible technology.
And yes, okay, she’d been concerned for his health. But not only had she fed and watered him, she’d given him an awesome haircut that made him even more sinfully attractive. Go her. And what had she gotten in return? A thank you and a verbal slap putting her firmly back in the pigeon hole Marcus has assigned her, the one labelled weak and useless. Just lovely.
Pushing away her half eaten salad, Riya clapped her hands. “Good, if you can insult me the concussion must have cleared up, which means it’s nap time my friend.”
Marcus’s lips twisted up at the corners as he contemplated the gorgeous woman standing across the kitchen island from him. The one that his body seemed to crave and that thankfully his common sense realised was totally off limits. Oh sure, the sex would probably be great, better than great. But even if they kept it brief, there was no getting around the fact Riya was related to Hadleigh, they would always be linked.
They had nothing in common. He was a Warrior in service to the Goddess Maat. He punished and killed those that sought to bring strife, injustice and chaos into the world. He wielded a sword and utilised the information he hoarded to analyse, track and fight the bad guys. He loved structure. Schedules. Plans.
Riya owned a shop. One she seemed okay to just up and leave at a moments notice. She sashayed through life, doing whatever she wanted, with whomever she wanted. Case in point, the child at home and the missing in action deadbeat loser Dad. Riya made clothes. Proclaimed to be an agent of Fate. Okay, yes, she seemed to have temporarily tamed Dimity Forrest. Or at the least calmed her down.
But everyone knew women could be distracted by sparkly geegaws and the like. No doubt one of them eventually would have come up with the smart idea to just start throwing light blue boxes from Tiffany’s at Dimity and they would have achieved the same result.
“Nap time?” Marcus chuffed a deep laugh. “You and what army?”
“I could just call up Drum, who is basically an army of one. But he won’t be needed right now. Where’s the bedroom in this place? That way?”
“I’m not taking a nap like some infant.”
“You certainly sound cranky enough to be considered an infant. Come on.” Riya rounded the kitchen island and held out a hand in invitation to Marcus. “I’ll even help you get there.”
“You’re mad. I don’t need a nap and I certainly don’t need help.”
Riya’s smile turned into a full blown grin. “You sure about that, Charming? Your eyelids aren’t starting to feel heavy? Your legs aren’t beginning to feel like jelly?”
“I…” Marcus frowned. His eyelids did feel heavy. His head starting to grow fuzzy. His legs felt a million miles away. “You… what did you do?”
“Lime in the water, it camouflaged the knock out juice I gave you. It’s a specialty of Nell’s, perfect for the Elite Warrior. There was a dose in the emergency kit in your bathroom.” Riya grabbed his large hand and tugged.
Marcus found himself on his feet, following Riya as she headed for his bedroom. No, that’s not where he… Marcus blinked staring down at Riya. Suddenly he found himself seated on the edge of his bed, Riya was kneeling in front of him pulling off his boots. “Where…?”
Riya stood up. “Come on, Charming, just give into it. Lie back down.”
“No… work.” And there was another reason he didn’t want to go to sleep, wasn’t there? Oh, yes. “Dreams… weird dreams.”
“They’re only dreams. Come on.” Riya reached out, planted a hand on his shoulder and gave him a push. Nothing. Damn, these sturdy Warrior types were solidly built. Stepping forward, between his legs, Riya placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed hard. Bloody Hell. “Marcus.” His hypnotic dark blue eyes, only a few inches away now, lifted to meet hers, his eyelids were drooping with fatigue and it took a moment for him to focus on her.
“Pretty.” He reached out, encircling Riya’s waist, pulling her in closer still.
“Marcus.” Riya found herself plastered up against him. Now she was pushing hard on his shoulders to separate them. “Let… go. Marcus?”
“It’s all… good.” Wow, Riya felt great in his arms, and suddenly he was so tired. It felt the most natural thing in the world to lean his head down and snuggle into those soft high breasts of hers.
“Marcus!” Double damn, Riya’s nipples had tightened instantly, a throbbing ache setting up home between her legs. Honestly, she needed to stop doing favours for big jerks who didn’t deserve her time or attention. They kept back firing on her. Well, not this time. Riya planted her feet and pushed with all her might and… Marcus just snuggled his head in closer and released a small happy sigh.
Nope, not going to happen. They couldn’t stay like this. Planting a foot on the edge of the bed, Riya strained backwards with all of her might. And for her efforts she actually managed to move away all of two inches before Marcus tightened his grip, bringing her in close and then collapsing back onto the bed, rolling on to his side, taking her with him.
Riya couldn’t believe her awful luck. Of all the insanity. Stuck here. On a big, insanely comfy bed. Trapped in the arms of an Elite, gorgeous, but too often the jerk, Warrior. There was no point in struggling or calling out for help. It wasn’t like anyone would hear her.
Crap, no, she didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. She believed in Fate. And for some reason Fate wanted her snuggling on an oversized bed with Marcus. Oh damn, no. No! If Fate thought that she and Marcus belonged together, then Fate had another thing coming.
Marcus, the father of her baby? No. No way. Her and him? Together? Parents? It was ludicrous. Impossible. Never in a million years.
Grrr, she would fight Fate until her very last breath. She would not hitch herself to a workaholic, no time for fun, know-it-all, judgemental, opinionated jerk who dismissed her magic as woo-woo and pithy.
And let’s not forget the glaring fact that Marcus had come right out and said that the two of them together was a preposterous match up.
So Fate had another thing coming.
Shit, but none of that changed the current situation, did it? Trapped in the arms of a gorgeous, over large, surprisingly not smothering Elite Warrior.
Marcus’s heart thudding against her was rhythmic and soothing. He was so warm. The bed so comfortable. She would just rest her eyes for a moment and then start working on a plan to thwart Fate. Hmmm, just close her eyes… breathe, listen to Marcus’s steady, dependable heartbeat and… sleep.