Dark Side Of The Moon (BBW Paranormal Were-Bear Shifter Sci-Fi Romance) (9 page)

“You
are soft yet hard...soft of body, yet strong willed, strong in spirit.”

“These
women your mercenaries’ bring back…how do they integrate with your Clan?”

“We
give them everything they could ever want.”

“Giving
them what you think they want won’t keep them from missing home, you know. You
can’t yank a girl out of New York, away from her family, someone she loves, and
think she’s going to be happy on your planet, even if you give her everything.
Your everything might be her nothing.”

She
could almost hear the frown creasing his brow. As scared and angry as she was,
it was hard not to smile a little at his confusion. It seemed men, no matter
what planet they came from, thought that all women wanted were things to make
them happy.

“But
you are different, Max. There is more to you than just...” His hand lifted and
began tracing the outline of wide hips, waist and thighs, slowly in the air. “…a
beautiful body. You are a warrior. You fight. You must. I can tell.” He
squeezed her upper arm. “You are strong. If you’re not a warrior, then tell me
how you are like this.”

Something
uneasy rose up inside her. The
why
of her life wasn’t any of this man’s
business. Still, she could feel the hurt in him, the loss of his love. Maybe it
wasn’t so different, what she wanted out of life. To love someone, to be loved,
but it still wasn’t any of his concern.

“On
Earth we fight for a lot of different reasons. Sometimes it’s for protection,
if someone attacks us. Sometimes it’s for money. They’re called professionals,
people who fight for a living.”

“Then
you are a professional?” There was that same slow pronunciation. “You fight as
your job.”

She
shook her head, her cheek rubbing against his shoulder. He
smelled...interesting. Under the sand and dust and blood, she inhaled what must
be him, Taso’s own scent. It was masculine, no doubt, strong and rich—and
slightly off-putting. She wondered what she smelled like, after a shift delivering
packages in the sweltering canyons of New York, then running around after an
alien in the sand. Probably pretty disgusting.

“No.
Not for my job. I deliver packages on a bicycle.” The absurdity of that
statement, and the thought of trying to explain it, made her laugh. “I fight
because I like to. I like how it makes me feel, how my body feels when I
train.”

“But
do you fight opponents? You must. You fought that alien...”

“I
fought that alien because he was pegging rocks at us with a slingshot because
he wanted us dead. I fought because my life and yours was on the line.”

“My
life...and yours.” Taso’s voice held a smile. “You fought for me.”

“Well...yes.
I mean, if you died, I’d have been stuck on that planet. Your little chip thing
might have stopped working...”

There
was a beat of silence. Taso’s voice was low when he spoke, his words slow. “You
didn’t know about the chip until after the alien was dead.”

“I...
well, I guess...” She was confused, the events already a blur. It had been the
reason she’d come up with a plan, had gone out there, risked her life. Risked
her life to save her life. Wasn’t that how it had been? Without him, she would
have been marooned. She was only looking out for her own life. Nothing more,
right?

“I
don’t know.” It was the best that she could do.

Taso
sighed, a contented sound that irritated her. Like he knew her better than she
knew herself.

“Don’t
think I fought for you because I have any feelings for you. I was scared, I
wanted to live. I needed you...”

“Needed
me.” The contented sound played out in his voice. “You needed me. And I needed
you.”

“You
really are impossible; you know? You twist my words around...make it sound like
I’m saying things I didn’t say. I needed you to fight the aliens...or alien. I
couldn’t have killed it on my own.”

He
ignored most of what she’d said, circling back to that one point.

“But
you do want what I want. To need, be needed.” He hesitated. “To love someone.
To have someone love you. And you fight to get what you want. Just like me.”

She
tensed against his arms, then realized those arms had slackened quite a bit and
if she’d wanted to, she could have stood up, moved away from him.
Could have
,
but didn’t want to, and she couldn’t really say why. He’d said what she’d been
thinking, and it bothered her that he’d echoed her thoughts. It bothered her
because he was right. He’d hit a nerve or something, jarred something loose in
her mind. To be loved...

“I
hate this; the way you do this.”

“I
have done nothing but talk. Do you hate my words too?”

She
sighed. “I don’t hate your words, or you. I don’t know how I feel.”

“You
felt something...in the wreckage of the ship. When we came together.” There was
more than a smile in his voice; there was the sound of a very confident man.

“That
was...” She clenched her fist against his chest. “Damn it. That wasn’t love or
anything close to it. That was...”

“Passion
born from the heat of battle.”

“Yes.
Fine. Passion...whatever. But I didn’t feel anything...else.” That was a lie;
she’d felt more with Taso than she thought possible. But, to tell him that? No
way. His ego was big enough already.

“It
was just physical, that’s all. Leftover adrenaline from fighting.” That was as
close to telling him anything as she was going to get. “I don’t love you.”

“I
would think not, after only a few days, but I believe it will happen.”

“How
are you so damn sure of yourself?”

“Because
in all of your words of protest you’ve never said there was someone you left
behind, someone that you loved.” He touched her hair again, less diffidently,
with more confidence. “Is there someone you love? That loves you? Someone that
I would return you to, if I took you back?”

“That’s
none of your business.” Her voice had taken on an edge she didn’t like. “It’s
private.”

Abruptly,
he pushed her off his lap, slamming her down on the bench next to him. His
hands were on her shoulders; his face close to hers. The suddenness caught her
off guard and she was too stunned to move.

“There
is no one left behind. You fight with men who want to ask you out. You want to
be tough, but underneath all of your toughness, you want one of them to love
you.”

He
was smiling and that made her blood rise up, hot and wild. She reached up then,
blindly, trying to push him away or hit him, but mostly to wipe that smug look
from his face.

“You
don’t know anything about me or what I left behind...not a damned thing.”

She
was breathing hard, and so was he. But he was also laughing, and that made her
mad. Swinging wildly, she slapped his face, her hand cracking against his
cheek. He grunted, but the smile stayed on his face.

“You
don’t know anything...anything at all.” She was damned if she was going to cry
in front of him again. She pounded her fist against his chest, tried to hit him
again. But he reached up, and grabbed her wrists, easily restraining her. It
infuriated her, and she struggled against his grip until her strength gave out.
Tugging weakly in his grip, she stared up at him. He didn’t let go, seemed to
be waiting for her to come to some decision.

“Fine.
You want me to admit there was no one? There was no one.” Admitting that seemed
harder than anything she’d done so far on this bizarre trip. “There was no one.
Ever.” The fight went out of her, at least the fight against Taso’s words.

He
let go of her, and she fell back against the wall. He was still smiling at her,
but it wasn’t the cocky, know-it-all smile he’d been wearing, but something
that seemed almost gentle. It changed the sharp contours of his face, softening
them. It was an unexpected change, and it caught her off guard.

Taso
sat back on the bench, looking across the small space. The only thing behind
him was the window, with all that empty, black space outside. He was quiet for
a long time, sitting with his hands on his knees. She wondered if that was the real
fight between them, him prying this confession out of her. Considering himself
the winner, he’d shut her out. She was on the verge of getting up, walking away
from him—as far as she could—working the kinks out of her limbs when he reached
out, taking her hand.

“I
have no one either. There...” He pointed at the little window. “In all of that
blackness, among all of those planets and stars, we are alone. You and me.
But...”

He
turned to her so suddenly she shrank back, expecting another friendly slap on
the cheek or amicable punch in the solar plexus, but he only held her hand,
looking at her with bright eyes.

“We
could have each other, Max. If you could see my world through my eyes, you’d
understand. You would be a part of that world, help me fight for something
worth fighting for. Be something more than you were on Earth. Could you think
about that?”

She
stared at him. “I
was
something on Earth.” Of course she was. She’d
been...someone. She’d been loved by...Gus? Her father, surely. But he’d been
dead for almost five years.

“I
was someone...” Some of the resolution had gone out of her voice.

“Who?”
Taso’s voice had gone quiet, so soft she thought she imagined the word. “Who
were you, that you’d be missed? Who is left that loves you for who you are?”

Hearing
it said like that made her feel small and alone. Something small, but vital
broke inside her, like a tiny mirror shattering. Barely heard, but it changed
how she saw herself.

“My
parents are dead. Killed when I was a junior in college. They loved me.” She
found herself sniffling, a tear running down her cheek. Swiping at it angrily
as the memories crowded in. This wasn’t fair; she didn’t know how to fight
against this kind of attack. There was nothing to hit. She felt confused,
unmoored. It was impossible to look at Taso, so she looked at his hand over
hers.

“My
father loved me, always. From the start.” Thinking of him, how the cowlick of
black hair always fell in his eyes as he clapped wildly for her at one of her
competitions. Always alone; her mother never came along.

“It
was his idea that I start training in martial arts.” She could almost see the
quirk in Taso’s eyebrow. “Lessons in how to fight in different ways.
Anyway...the lessons were his idea. It was my mother’s idea that I do something
because I was...” The word came to her, but she’d never said it out loud
before. But now, it hardly mattered.

“My
mother thought I was fat. She wanted a pretty daughter, a thin daughter she
could take shopping, buy matching clothes for. But that’s not the daughter she
got.”

She
looked like her father, from the unruly black hair to the thick, muscular legs,
that had the tendency to carry a few more pounds for their height.

“So
they made me take these classes...” There had been karate, taekwondo, Brazilian
Jiu-Jitsu. And somewhere along the way, a boxing class. That had solidified
everything for her, gave her fulfillment like none of the other disciplines
had. And it had horrified her mother.

“And
I loved them. That’s where I learned how to fight. And that’s where I
discovered that guys don’t always like girls who fight.” She gave a bitter
laugh. “You know; they don’t want to ask me out. They just want to beat me up.”

While
she’d been talking, Taso had wound his fingers through hers, tightening them as
she’d finished. He was quiet for a moment.

“Your
father was a wise man. Your mother...” He shrugged. “Perhaps foolish to not see
the value in you. And the boys…they were probably just afraid of you.”

“She
was who she was.” It was hard to hold bad feelings toward the woman, now that
she was gone. She had loved Veronica, in her own way.

“But
they are gone.” Her voice was quiet.

“Yes,
they were killed in a car accident when I was in college. I ended up dropping
out, and getting a job.”

She’d
been dependent on them for support, and when they died, she’d been set adrift
in every way possible. She’d gotten a job, or the beginning of a series of
jobs. Nothing seemed to fit...or more accurately, she’d never fit in at any job
she’d had. Men had given her a glance, maybe a second, and then seemed confused
about her. Girls had tried to include her in lunches and coffee breaks, but she
had no idea about hair styles or shopping or who’d said what to someone on
Twitter or Facebook. It all seemed so confusing. And no one had the faintest
clue about martial arts or boxing.

The
guys she’d tried to talk to went past confusion into posturing, trying to out
her as a poseur. Then they’d gone back to confusion when she’d proved she knew
what she was talking about. The bike messenger job had come about purely by
accident; someone delivering a package had mentioned he was quitting, and how
much he would miss the job. The independence, the speed and thrill of riding
through traffic. She’d gotten the number of the company and gotten the job the
next day. And she’d never looked back.