said. “Tell me what happened after I went down. Where are we?”
Ian listened without commenting as I brought him up to speed. I hesitated when I got to Richard’s involvement. After everything we’d been through, I trusted Ian, but he was going to be unhappy with my decision.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I owe Richard Rockhurst a favor.”
He went perfectly still. “What happened?” I told him and he blew out a breath. “You had no choice,” he said. “We’ll deal with the consequences when they come. Do you know if the others made it?”
“No, I had no contact with them after they launched and this bucket of bolts doesn’t have a com drone. We have two more days until we can jump again.”
“Are you going to let me off this table?”
“No.”
Ian mock-scowled at me. In the end, I relented. He needed food, and the diagnostic table proved him right—he was remarkably healed. He had to be a Genesis Project soldier. I wanted to ask him a million questions, but I also knew what it was to hold a secret close.
I removed his IV, then hovered as he slid off the table. He landed with a grimace, but he didn’t need my assistance to stand. Still, I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we made our way to the lounge. And not only because he was wearing a pair of navy boxer briefs and nothing else.
I ordered a meal replacement shake and a cup of hot tea. I felt okay but exhaustion clawed at me. A shake was easier than trying to decide on real food. Ian did not have the same issue. He ordered enough food for a small army and tore through it with gusto.
When I finished my shake, Ian nudged a cup of raspberry mousse my way and finished his own dinner. I glanced up sharply. Did he remember it was one of my favorites or had it been a lucky guess?
His eyes were guarded. He knew.
I took it and the offered spoon with a murmur of gratitude. The first bite was bliss. I scooped up a bite and turned the spoon toward Ian. “Bite?” I offered.
He leaned over and I slid the spoon into his mouth. The room shrank until he was the only thing I saw. Warm blue eyes, straight nose, strong jaw. Ian Bishop was a gorgeous man. Two days of stubble gave him a rough, rugged look that only increased his appeal.
He took the spoon from my lax fingers and dipped it in the mousse, then fed me a bite. My eyes dropped closed and I hummed in appreciation. A second later, Ian’s finger dabbed mousse on my lower lip.
I opened my eyes to find him centimeters away, his eyes glowing. “Allow me,” he said. I nodded in agreement.
He leaned in and swept his tongue over my bottom lip. When he went to retreat, I buried my hand in the hair at the back of his head and pulled him to me. He wasn’t going to get away that easily.
I slid my tongue into his mouth. He tasted of raspberry mousse and desire. He let me lead. I kissed him slow and deep. I’d almost lost him. I poured my emotions into the kiss, everything I was too afraid to admit aloud.
Ian made a deep sound in his chest and pulled me closer. He took over, tipping my head back and plundering my mouth. I sighed in surrender. Lust blazed bright, accompanied by a softer emotion I refused to examine too closely. I shifted and squeezed my legs together. My breasts felt heavy.
I pulled back, panting. Ian was still recovering. I shouldn’t be mauling him. Of course, he didn’t look like he minded. His eyes glittered and his face was set in harsh lines of restraint. He lifted the spoon to my lips, another bite of mousse.
I closed my lips around it and tried very hard not to think about anything else I’d like to close my lips around.
Ian groaned. “I could watch you eat this all day,” he growled. “Except I’m not sure I’d survive the experience. I’m already hard as a rock.”
My mouth rounded in surprise. He hadn’t just said that, had he? I peeked at him. An impressive erection tented the fabric of his boxers. He had said it.
He laughed, the sound rich and full. “You should see your face right now,” he said. “Shocked you, have I? In that case . . .”