She came unstuck and moved over to his kitchen. She grabbed a packet of medication off the counter. Then she filled a glass of water and returned. “No child should be beaten, in pain, or hungry.”
Dom took the pills and their hands brushed. “I haven’t been a child for a very long time.”
She sat down on the edge of his bed.
A warning alarm blared in his head. Arden Carlisle anywhere near his bed gave his body ideas. Even now, barely healed, it was reacting to her. His blood pumped thickly through his veins.
He had to make her see. He had to protect her.
“Arden, why are you here?”
“I’m taking care of you.”
“Why?”
She tucked some strands of her hair behind her ear. “Because I was worried about you.”
“You shouldn’t worry. You should stay far away from me.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You aren’t the big, bad, evil villain you pretend to be, Dom.”
He sat up. “I’m not pretending anything. I was a Mafia enforcer, Arden.” He lowered his voice. “You know what that means?”
She licked her lips. “Yes.”
“You have no clue. What were you before the invasion?”
“An office manager.”
“An office manager, with a regular job, a nice house, and a loving family.”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “None of us are who we were before.”
“I still kill. It’s aliens now, but there was already blood on my hands.”
She lifted her chin. “Stop trying to scare me.”
“You should be scared.” His hand flashed out and he grabbed her shirt, tugging her toward him. She gasped. He yanked her across the bed, their faces so close that their breath mingled. She was breathing fast.
Dom stroked the line of her jaw. “You can’t handle me.” His words were a growl.
He wanted to devour her whole. The things he wanted to do to her would terrify her.
“Dom.” Desire vibrated in her voice.
He fought the urges in his body. He wouldn’t destroy her. He pushed her away and watched as she caught herself before she fell off the bed. He had to fight himself to stop from reaching for her.
“Go, Arden. I might want to sink my cock deep inside you, but I don’t want a needy, delicate woman who can barely cope with her own demons.”
She looked like he’d struck her.
She stumbled backward off the bed. “Bastard.”
Dom felt an ache in his chest, but he blocked it. Pain. There was always pain. That’s all life ever brought him. “Yes, in the literal sense and the metaphorical one.”
She stared at him, those big, violet eyes making him want to make mistakes.
Then she turned and ran out of his quarters.
Slowly, Dom shifted to the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands. She’d forgotten her sketchbook and it lay on his sheets. He reached out and opened it.
He saw the sketch of him lying on the bed and his gut clenched.
Then he flipped the page. The next picture was him in his armor. But she’d changed it. The armor was black, but it wasn’t the sleek, modern carbon fiber they wore. She’d added details that made it look like the old-fashioned armor of a knight. And she’d put a sword in his hand.
Is that what she saw when she looked at him? No one would ever accuse him of being a knight.
The paper crumpled in his hand.
Then, the communicator beside his bed pinged.
Dragging in a deep breath, he leaned over and touched the button. “Santora.”
“Dom?” It was Indy’s voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Good. If you’re up for it, there’s a big meeting in the Command Center.”
A distraction. Just what he needed. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Six
Arden stormed into her quarters. Her chest was viciously tight, and sadness was choking her.
Dom… No. She blocked him from her thoughts.
She moved into her bathroom and then stopped. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
She looked so pale, so fragile. With one finger, she touched her cheek. She hadn’t spent much time looking at herself in the mirror since the invasion. When had she become this delicate?
Sucking in a deep breath, she grabbed a hair tie and brush. Ruthlessly, she stroked the brush through her light-brown locks, then pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Then she splashed some water on her face.
When she looked up, there was a spark in her eye.
She had the right to grieve. She had a right to work through her loss. But dammit, even if she didn’t like admitting it, there was a kernel of truth in Dom’s words.
For the last two years, she’d been existing. She’d stopped living the day she’d lost her family. And somewhere along the line, for better or worse, she’d let herself forget that she was still alive.
Arden lifted her chin. Still, he was an asshole to talk to her like he had.
Her communicator dinged and she strode back into the main room. She saw a message and thumbed the button. She quickly read the text. There was a meeting in the Command Center.
Lifting her chin, she strode back into her bathroom and tore open the drawers. She found the small case Indy had given her and yanked out some lip gloss. It was a pretty, bright pink. She swiped some on, then headed out of her quarters.
As she headed down the corridor, she felt…pissed. Anger was swelling inside her. Anger at a dark, handsome asshole.
When she reached the Command Center, she found it packed. All the squads were inside—muscled bodies and broad shoulders taking up space—along with the Command Center staff.
She spotted Roth’s dark head, and moved toward Squad Nine. As she neared, Taylor looked up and smiled. The woman’s gaze moved over Arden’s body.
“You look…different,” Taylor said.
Arden shrugged in response. “What’s going on?” There was an edgy vibe in the room.
Taylor shook her head. “The general’s about to share.”
Up front, Holmes clapped his hands. “Everyone, listen up.” The composed man blew out a breath. “Several minutes ago, the drone team picked up an explosion in the Blue Mountains.”
Gasps and murmurs ran through the
