6. Clair #3
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Clair became painfully aware of how close she was standing between his spread knees. She could smell that warm, spicy scent of his again—it wrapped around her like something tangible.
His thumb moved…just slightly. It brushed over the side of her hand and the tiny touch sent an electric shiver up Clair's arm.
Kaelus seemed to be affected too. He inhaled deeply and his pupils dilated.
And just like that, Clair suddenly remembered that this enormous scientist sitting obediently on her lab stool wasn't only a colleague—he was a Beast/Blood Kindred Hybrid…a very large, very male Beast/Blood Kindred Hybrid.
And she was standing between his knees holding his hand.
Clair released him abruptly.
“There,” she said, clearing her throat. “All fixed.”
Kaelus looked down at the bandage and flexed his hand.
“You are skilled at wound care,” he rumbled.
“Well, I spent enough time patching myself up in field research,” Clair said, trying to sound breezy. “Plants are surprisingly vicious when they want to be.”
“The next time you receive an unidentified botanical specimen, you will allow me to examine it before you handle it,” he said, frowning.
Clair frowned at him.
“There he is,” she said.
Kaelus frowned.
“Who?”
“Doctor Bossy-pants. I was wondering where he'd gone and when he was coming back. Let me guess—you’re going to make a rule about it.”
“I might,” he said defensively. “I am merely attempting to prevent future injury.”
“You mean prevent me from getting injured.” Clair pointed a thumb at herself.
“Yes.”
The word came out so quickly and so naturally that Clair stopped smiling.
Kaelus seemed to realize what he'd said because his expression hardened.
“I do not wish to lose a competent lab partner,” he added stiffly. “Who knows what kind of fool they might replace you with if you were to expire from handling a dangerous plant.”
Clair raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, now I'm competent?”
He shrugged.
“I have never claimed otherwise.”
Clair put a hand on her hip and gave him a look.
“You could've fooled me.”
Kaelus rose from the stool and Clair had to step back quickly because suddenly there was far too much enormous male directly in front of her.
“I believe the analyzer requires recalibration,” he said, his deep voice slightly hoarse.
“Of course it does,” she said faintly.
“And you also have work to complete,” he pointed out.
She nodded.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good—then let us be productive.”
Kaelus returned to his side of the laboratory and got to work.
Clair watched him go. Then she looked down at her own hands. She could still feel the warmth of his skin against them…could still smell his scent lingering in the air—why did he always smell so good?
Okay, this is getting ridiculous.
She didn't want a man, she reminded herself. She especially didn't want that man. He was impossible and bossy and rude. Not to mention that he had a habit of telling her what she should and shouldn't do as though she were one of his experiments.
But he also fed her every afternoon. And he'd moved her supplies where she could reach them. He'd saved her from falling. He'd stripped dangerous chemicals off her body without taking any kind of advantage or so much as glancing at her inappropriately.
And now he'd shoved his own bare hand in front of a potentially dangerous alien plant because he thought she might get hurt.
Clair didn't know what to make of any of it. So, as usual, she decided not to think about it.
That strategy worked for almost four whole days. Then she fell asleep in the lab…
It had been a particularly long day. Clair was studying the metabolic pathways of the Vellarian star-vine, trying to determine exactly how the inactive precursor she'd discovered was transformed into its medicinal form.
The work was fascinating, but it was also tedious.
She had to compare dozens of molecular models, run repeated analyses, and check each result against the growth stage of the plant.
By ten o'clock that night, Clair's eyes felt like somebody had filled them with sand.
Kaelus was still working too.
The big Hybrid frequently stayed late—sometimes so late Clair suspected he barely slept at all. When she asked about it, he insisted Kindred required fewer hours of sleep than humans.
“You should go back to your suite,” he told her for the third time that evening.
“So should you,” Clair said without looking up.
He shrugged.
“I require less sleep.”
“Congratulations,” she said dryly and then couldn’t stop herself from yawning.
Kaelus frowned.
“You are tired, Clair.”
“I am fine,” she said firmly.
“You just attempted to enlarge a molecular model by touching your coffee cup.”
Clair frowned and looked down. Her fingers were indeed resting against the side of her empty coffee cup.
“Well, maybe if somebody would refill this thing, I'd be doing better,” she muttered.
“You have already consumed too much stimulant today.” Kaelus’s deep voice was disapproving.
“Traitor,” Clair told him. “You like coffee too now—admit it!”
Kaelus only made a disgusted sound and returned to his work.
Determined to ignore him, Clair kept going. She was going to finish comparing one more set of results before she quit for the night, she told herself. Just one.
She rested her elbows on the counter and stared at the glowing molecular structures displayed on her screen. Her eyelids got heavy, and the golden lines began to blur.
Clair blinked and rested her chin briefly on her folded arms. Just for a second, she told herself. She would close her eyes for one second and then get back to work.
The next thing she knew, something warm was wrapped around her shoulders.
“Wha…?” Clair opened her eyes slowly—for a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then she realized she was still in the lab, but it looked different.
The room was dim—most of the overhead lights had been switched off, leaving only the soft glow from the equipment and the blue-green illumination of her botanical grow chambers.
She lifted her head and blinked her eyes, trying to understand what had happened. Her neck hurt from sleeping in such an awkward position but at least she wasn’t cold, despite the fact that they kept the lab at a chilly temperature to avoid specimen spoilage and slow bacteria growth.
Then she realized the reason she wasn’t cold was because she was covered by something. Clair looked down and saw it was a lab coat, but not one of hers. This one was far too large.
She lifted the collar toward her nose and sniffed—warm spice, with a hint of something indefinably masculine met her nose. She recognized that scent—it was Kaelus. He must have draped his lab coat around her when she fell asleep.
Clair's heart did that strange little skip as she looked across the lab.
The big Hybrid was still there. He was seated at the MRA with one elbow resting on the counter, studying a series of molecular structures.
His dark hair was slightly disordered, as though he'd been running his hands through it while he worked. And he wasn’t wearing his lab coat—which meant he’d taken off the one he’d been wearing earlier to keep her warm.
No wonder it smelled of his scent so strongly.
“You're awake,” he rumbled without turning around.
Clair sat up.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight.”
“Midnight?” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes. Then she looked at the coat wrapped around her. “Did you put this on me?” she asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if he would admit it.
Kaelus shrugged.
“You were cold.”
“How did you know I was cold?” she asked, frowning.
“You were shivering. It seemed a logical deduction.”
Clair stared at him sleepily.
“You could have just woken me up,” you know,” she pointed out.
“I attempted to,” Kaelus said dryly.
“You did?” Clair raised her eyebrows at him.
“I did. You told me to go away. Then you muttered something about a ‘pink bunny rabbit with giant teeth who ate all your chocolate.’”
Clair frowned.
“I did not!”
He smirked at her.
“Oh, but you did. It was most entertaining.”
“I don't remember that,” she protested.
“You also called me ‘Captain Grumpy-pants,’” Kaelus told her.
Clair put a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Oh my God.”
“And then you informed me that your plants liked you better than they liked me.”
“I was asleep!” she protested. “I don’t know anything about a pink bunny or who the plants like best!”
He nodded.
“I assumed as much.”
Clair couldn't help laughing.
“All right, well…thank you for not holding it against me.”
He frowned, but the expression held no real ire.
“I did not say I wasn't holding it against you.”
She smiled—then she noticed something else. There was a fresh cup of coffee sitting beside her.
Clair picked it up and inhaled the aroma gratefully. It was still warm and just the scent of it made her feel like she was coming back to life.
She looked up at Kaelus.
“You made me coffee?”
He nodded reluctantly.
“I hope I did it right. I attempted to replicate your usual preparation.”
Clair took a cautious sip and her eyebrows rose. It was good. Not exactly the way she made it—Kaelus had gone slightly too heavy on the cream—but it was close.
“You've been watching me make coffee,” she said.
He frowned at once.
“No I haven’t.”
“Then how did you know how much cream and sugar to put in?” Clair asked.
He tapped his temple.
“I have an excellent memory. You told me when we first met how you liked your coffee. It wasn’t difficult to duplicate your method.”