he'd watched over her.
He'd kissed her.
Her very first kiss.
She smiled, quickly, fleetingly, wishing she'd been able to feel it.
He'd said he was only trying to break the poison's spell, but she'd seen something in his eyes as he'd held her hands afterward.
She'd felt something in his gaze.
Something warm with a sharpness that hinted at lust.
A part of her delighted at the thought that he might desire her in that way.
But a bigger part of her didn't want that from him, that physical intimacy that mimicked true caring but wasn't.
And if Charlie Rand decided he wished to mate with her? As much as she might wish to be her own master, she feared she'd never find the strength to deny him.
Chapter 5
Something was wrong with him.
Ever since he woke hours ago, Charlie had felt achy and tired.
And god-awful thirsty.
How many times had he stopped to drink from the stream they were following into the foothills of the mountains? Too many times to count, yet the sweet, clear water never seemed to assuage his thirst.
Wouldn't it be a bitch if he was coming down with a virus? Here, of all places.
He'd brought a first-aid kit with the basics, but if he came down with the flu, he'd just have to take a couple of Tylenol and tough it out.
He didn't have time to be sick.
Tarrys walked beside him, no longer having to run to keep up.
Beside the stream, on the slope high above, a herd of small red polka- dotted deer drank from the stream.
As a pair of flying snakes dive- bombed them, they darted off.
Tarrys made a sound of amusement beside him and he glanced at her curiously.
"The snakes entertain themselves," she explained.
"And me."
The red and gold highlights in her short brown hair caught the golden glow of the sky, igniting hidden color.
Was it his imagination, or had her hair grown overnight? The sleek dark cap was starting to lie down in places instead of sticking up like a crew cut.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked her.
"Well, thank you."
Her eyes turned fathomless as her mouth quirked up in a soft Mona Lisa smile.
Her expression hid a multitude of thoughts.
And he wanted to know every one, he realized.
Like her hair, the woman was a maze of hidden depths and secrets he longed to explore.
She'd become a puzzle to him, a pretty little puzzle he needed to solve.
"No residual effects from the poison?" She shook her head.
"No.
I'm fine."
"Good."
He wished he could say the same.
They continued on, following the sloping path in companionable silence.
Though Charlie constantly scanned for potential dangers, his senses kept zeroing in on his partner.
The woman couldn't be dressed any less attractively, with that now-bloodstained, torn, sacklike gown.
No makeup.
Less- than-stylish haircut.
He didn't like to think of himself as shallow, but being a fit and relatively decent-looking male, he was used to his choice of women.
His tastes generally ran to the stylish professional types in their trim suits, high heels and expensive haircuts.
Maybe that's why he'd never really noticed Tarrys before with her bald head and shapeless Redskins sweatshirts.
On the roof, yesterday, he'd seen a different woman.
He'd seen her as a woman.
And now he couldn't seem to forget.
Charlie opened his mouth to make small talk, just to hear her voice, but every question he wanted to ask her seemed wrong.
So, what was life like with Baleris? Do you miss being a slave? Jesus.
"What's beyond the dome?" he asked instead, glancing skyward.
She cut him a look that was almost amused, as if she'd been listening to his thoughts.
"What's beyond your sky?" she countered.
"Space.
Other stars."
Her eyes turned thoughtful.
"I don't know.
No one studies our world like you do yours."
"Scientists would have a field day with this place."
If they survived it.
The thought was in her eyes, and in his own head.
Neither voiced it and he struggled to find a subject that would lighten the mood.
"My team back home is full of pranksters."
She threw him a curious look.
"What is a prankster?" "Someone who enjoys playing good-natured tricks and jokes on others."
Tarrys lifted a single brow and he found himself grinning, partly in anticipation of the stories he wanted to tell her and partly because she was here with him, waiting for him to tell them.
"Between ops, we were always pulling pranks on one another."
He regaled her with the stories, about pouring packing popcorn through the sunroof of the Commander's Camry on his birthday, and breaking into his buddy's town house to line the stairs with dozens of Dixie cups full of water.
As he talked, the