“We’re soldiers, babe. All soldiers take chances. You certainly have. I know that Whitney’s training exercises are often very lethal. You managed to escape and stay out of the sights of Whitney and any of his spies.”
“Why are you doing this?” There was hurt in her voice. “Did you need your friend to tell you that you shouldn’t try to exercise that leg yet because he’s male? A hotshot doctor? I told you and you just ignored my advice.”
He winced. He hadn’t looked at it the way she might. “My working the leg or not working it has nothing to do with Trap. I listened to you. And I’ll even admit, on some level I knew you were right. I just didn’t want it to be true.”
“Why?”
She hadn’t moved. She remained pressing her body against the door, her large blue eyes reflecting the light from the lamp by the bed.
“Baby, come here,” he insisted. He didn’t want to sound like a self-pitying wimp, and he would if he had to explain to her that he was jealous of his friends.
“I need to know what’s going on with you, Malichai. This isn’t easy for me. I thought we’d go back to the swamp and meet your friends one at a time, in a casual setting. They’re taking over my bed-and-breakfast. I’m not saying I’m not grateful for the help—I am—but they know more about what’s going on than I do. These are my guests. My friends. I feel responsible for them. Before, you listened to me. You talked to me. We were a team. Now, I don’t know what you’re doing or thinking, and I feel very lost.”
That was the last thing he wanted. “Please come here to me, Amaryllis. I’m feeling a little lost myself. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I’ve never had an injury that sidelined me at the worst possible time. There’s something . . .” He couldn’t put it into words, but something was really wrong with his leg. He could feel it. He knew the damage, whatever it was, wasn’t going away anytime soon—if ever—and he needed to be one hundred percent to help his team against this new, very elusive threat. Maybe he was doing what he always did, working harder, trying to focus his attention on healing his injury faster by working it. Pushing himself to get stronger.
“What is it, Malichai? Talk to me.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to lose you.” He just blurted it out. He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even wanted to think it.
She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “Malichai, that doesn’t make any sense at all. We’re already together. I made a commitment to you. You have to talk to me and sort out what you’re really feeling.”
“Then come over here.” He held out his hand. The anxiety in him was increasing, not decreasing. That part of him that always knew when something wasn’t right. It was all-encompassing now, swamping him. The urge to move, to throw the covers back and get up and start taking care of every problem was so strong he actually turned in the bed to drop his feet toward the door.
The movement galvanized Amaryllis into action. “Don’t you dare, Malichai.” She leapt across the room, proving immediately that she was definitely a GhostWalker. She crossed the room in one single jump, landing beside the bed and putting a hand to his chest to deter him. “I think you need to learn to verbalize, Malichai.”
That made him want to smile in spite of the churning in his gut, telling him something was off and danger was imminent. “I’m more of an action type.”
“You have the most unusual eyes, almost golden. At night they shine back at me. Sometimes, when you’re upset or worried, the shine becomes a glow and you look very dangerous.” She frowned and leaned in to rub the pad of her finger across his lips. “Like now, Malichai. You look like a very lethal predator.”
“Not to you, Amaryllis.”
“I know that. Honey, why would you think that you would lose me? It has something to do with your team showing up, and don’t try to tell me differently. You began to withdraw the moment they all began to call in saying they were here.”
He shrugged, deciding truth was better than deception. “I’m going to look whiny and jealous, but better you see now that I can be that way than much later when we’re married and we have a few dozen kids . . .”
“Stop.” Laughing, she pushed at his hip so he moved over, and she could sit on the bed with him. “You’re so crazy. Who in the world are you jealous of ? Please don’t say Trap. First, the man isn’t exactly filled with scintillating conversation and he’s very abrupt about his wife’s pregnancy . . .”