He and I have been talking about it."
Sarai stopped short, seeing the trail of blood and the spatters on his shirt for the first time.
"What happened?" she asked again, turning to Able. Her eyes searched up and down his form for damage, but he was fine.
"I think that Able and I have come to an understanding," Jax said firmly. "Haven't we?"
Able stared at him a moment longer, then turned to his mother. Her face was twisted in concern, and remorse hit him. He hadn't wanted to make her upset, or to scare Mali. She was terrified, he could see that. She had crept up behind Mom, gripping her around the knees and hiding her head in her skirts.
"It's fine, Mom," he said, trying to make his voice sound grown up. "Jax and I have just been talking about things. Don't worry about it."
"Jax, I need to know what happened here," Sarai said, hands on her hips. Mali squeaked at her harsh tone.
"Sarai, it's really nothing to worry about," Jax said. He shot Able a quick look, and for a second seemed almost friendly. Able realized that they shared a secret now, a secret just for them. "We were just talking about how a man takes care of his family. Able's going to be a good man some day, you should be proud of him."
Able's chest swelled with pride, although he tried to tamp down the emotion. No one had ever said anything like that about him before. Of course, he wasn't interested in anything Jax had to say about him. Not interested at all.
He gave Jax another appraising stare. He would have to keep an eye on the man, he thought. He was pretty sneaky. He looked back at his mom, who was watching every move he made. He smiled at her, but her face just got tighter.
"Well, you need to take care of that cut on your face, Jax," she finally said. "It doesn't look serious, but I've got some disinfectant inside. You'd better come with me."
Jax nodded, and she turned to walk toward the kitchen, dragging Mali along with her.
Jax gave Able another measuring look, and the boy straightened. He understood what Jax had been saying. There were smarter ways to protect Mom and Mali. Now he just needed to figure out what they were…
Sarai tried to control the trembling of her hands as she washed the blood off Jax's face.
Her heart was still racing; the adrenaline had hit her with the force of an ore transport when Mali had come tearing into the kitchen, screaming that Jax and Able were trying to kill each other.
She'd halfway expected to find her son dead. She had no doubt he'd attacked Jax, a man who was trained to kill. After all, soldiers killed for a living.
She still didn't understand what had really happened out there, but Jax wasn't talking.
She was willing to bet Able wouldn't, either. The boy was young, but he had a mind of his own. She might never know what had taken place between them…
"Sarai, this really isn't that serious a cut," Jax said, looking up at her with amusement.
"I've lived through much worse than this. You don't need to fuss over it."
"Oh, be quiet," Sarai said, pinching her lips. He was right, of course. The cut did seem to be small, and the bleeding had stopped. She wiped away the last of the dried blood carefully, then placed a small healing patch over the cut, pressing against it to activate it.
Within seconds it had bound itself against the skin, and its tiny computer chip was analyzing the wound and medicating it. She was still amazed by these little patches that everyone around her seemed to take for granted. They could heal a cut in a day. Back home, this cut would have left a scar. She still couldn't understand why her people refused to accept such simple pieces of technology to make their lives better.
"There, it's done," she said in satisfaction. "You'll be fine."
"Thanks," he said, giving her a wry smile. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made her think he wanted to kiss her, but then his gaze darted across the table to Mali, who was watching them intently. Jax stood, then reached out one finger to touch Sarai's lips. It sent a tingle of awareness through her. She wanted to kiss it.
"Later," he whispered. He turned and left the room. Sarai stared at the empty doorway, touching her lips where his finger had been. How did he do things like that? she wondered.
He was going to drive her crazy.
Chapter Four
It was maddening, Sarai thought to herself, as she got ready for bed that night. Where the hell was he? He'd been gone all day, not a word about where he was going or when he'd be back. She hadn't seen him since she'd patched up his temple that morning.
She'd been looking for him, expecting him to appear in his annoying way. He didn't show up begging for lunch. She'd even cooked a bit of extra dinner for him, figuring she owed him after his patience with her son's attack. Nothing. No stolen kisses. No wildflowers on the table. Nothing.
And he wasn't in his room, either. Not that she'd been checking up on him, of course. It was just that she'd realized it had been several days since she'd put new soaps in the fresher for him. Lazy on her part, she thought. She usually checked on the soaps every day.
She pulled off her dress and stood before the mirror in her shift, staring at her reflection. She was still attractive, she told herself. Her long, blonde hair had lightened in Hector Prime's sun. It was beautiful now, and she knew he liked to touch it. Her breasts were high and firm. Well, at least as high and firm as they could be after nursing two children. Her body was slim, and her stomach was tight. Sure, she had some stretch marks, but they hadn't bothered him before. Why wasn't he here? The night was halfway over!
She sat down at her dressing table with a thump, making a disgusted face at herself in the mirror. Why should she care where he was, anyway? It was nice to get rid of him for the night. Only two and a half more weeks, then he'd be gone. Well, two weeks and five days. And then he'd be gone forever…suddenly it didn't seem like that much time.
She attacked her hair with the brush, willing herself not to think of him. She was glad he wasn't there. She needed to get some good sleep—last night he'd kept her awake until all hours.
But thinking of him last night sent a wave of heat through her. He'd been so strong, held her so close. He had been hard against her, too. She clenched her legs together, feeling herself grow moist. He could slide right into her; he wouldn't even have to touch her first, she thought. What was wrong with her? It was like she had completely lost control over her own body. Disgusting.
She finished combing her hair, and moved toward her bed. It was stuffy. She might as well open the sliding door. It hadn't proven much of a barrier to him last night, and he wasn't even around this evening so there was no point in suffering in the heat.
A sudden thought stopped her dead in her tracks. What if something had happened to him? What if he'd been injured? Was that why he hadn't come home? Her heart raced, her mind running through a thousand different scenarios, each worse than the last.
He could have been attacked, robbed. He could have gone for a walk in the rainforest, and been set upon by predators. It was dangerous out there, everyone had told her to watch her children carefully. Maybe his head wound was more serious that either of them had realized. Maybe he had collapsed somewhere, was in a coma and couldn't tell anyone who he was.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself firmly. Settle down. He's probably just in town at a bar. Maybe he had met a woman there, a beautiful woman who didn't have children.
For all she knew, he was boffing some floozy at that very minute!
Sure, he told her he wasn't going away, but he was gone already.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even hear the knock on her door.