What? No.
Nial set me down as if I were made of porcelain. Which was sweet, until he lifted both hands to the collar of my black shirt and ripped it in half, tugging it down my arms and dropping it to the floor like it was a worthless rag.
“Hey!”
I lifted my arms to cover myself, but he wasn’t looking at me as he had when I’d run into him on the street. There was no heat in his gaze now, only clinical precision.
He didn’t respond to my protest but pulled off my shoes and dropped them to the floor with two loud thunks. Placing his hands on either side of my cargo pants, he ripped them in half down the crotch with seemingly zero effort, like tearing tissue paper. He pressed his hand to the center of my chest, forcing me to lie back before moving to my feet. As I pushed up onto my elbows, he deftly tugged the two halves of my pants off my body leaving me bare but for the pale pink bra and bikini panties that were covered with tiny black polka dots and trimmed with black lace. Not usual for a recon uniform, but being the only female among almost all males, lacy and frilly underthings were my sole interest in vanity. Since no man was interested in my exterior—my prickly attitude, bossiness, and tomboyish ways—the lingerie was just for me.
Nial’s gaze devoured me as I lay back on the cold table so I could cross my arms over my breasts in an instinctive movement that instantly made me feel too weak, too vulnerable. This was not me. I didn’t cower to any man.
Slowly, I lowered my arms and lifted my chin. I was lying on my back on the exam table and could feel the sticky wet slide of my blood under my shoulder and thigh. I stared at him until he once more lifted his gaze to meet mine, a challenge in my eyes. Go ahead and look, I thought. Doesn’t mean I’ll let you touch me.
“What do we have here?” Warden Egara stepped between us and I breathed a sigh of relief at being released from the intensity of Nial’s gaze. I focused one hundred percent of my attention on the warden. It was much safer to completely ignore the giant alien looming over me like an overly protective, dominant alpha male, like I needed one of those in my life. I spoke to the warden.
“Twelve-gauge shotgun. My old boss was shooting the Hive scouts, but some of the buckshot must have ricocheted. I caught at least one in the shoulder, one in the thigh. If I have more, I didn’t feel them.” I tried to roll and found moving hurt exponentially more after every moment I remained still, as if I were becoming frozen and stiff. I winced, hissed at the pain and slumped back.
I still had the muscles that had helped me scale walls and carry heavy gear across the desert. I worked hard to keep in shape and I was grateful. If I hadn’t been running faithfully since my military discharge, that Hive scout would have run me down.
“And I’m sorry about your car.”
She frowned. “What about my car?”
“I bled all over the seat.”
“Oh. Hush. I don’t care about that.”
The warden tugged on my bicep, her other hand at my hip and I tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle the moan of pain as she helped me roll onto my side. She was smaller than I by several inches and her arms and shoulders were thinner as well, more delicate and feminine.
Nial was there instantly, his large hands lifting me off the wounds and settling me so she could see where I’d been injured.
I was grumpy and bleeding, but I wasn’t a total bitch. The weird reaction—the instant arousal—I’d had in the car, had faded, but with his hands on me, it returned. Just the simple placement of his palms on my skin felt hot. I savored his strength, which was odd and confusing, because I relied solely on myself. I didn’t want to need anyone else’s help, their strength. I needed to be strong enough on my own.
“Thanks,” the warden said as she rolled a tray of medical supplies beside her. She turned to face Nial, who still held me up so she could clean and bandage my wounds. I didn’t want to see what she was doing.
“This is going to hurt.” Her words were the only warning I received before a long, pointed metal object began to dig around in my flesh. Tweezers of some kind?
“Just make it fast.” I winced and reached for the edge of the table. I needed something to hold onto, something to ground me in reality as she dug around in my flesh.
A warm hand completely enveloped mine, wrapping around my shaking palm and squeezing. Nial. I held on for dear life as she dug around like she was trying to tenderize a steak, not remove shrapnel.
“Don’t you have something to numb it? Lidocaine or—” She stabbed deep and I sucked in air through clenched teeth. “—whiskey?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Her voice was calm and sincere as she continued to poke and prod. “Those medications will interfere with the ReGen wand.”