3. Clair #2
“Now before you get upset—” Clair began, raising both hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture.
“Get away from my analyzer!”
The roar was loud enough to make her jump. Unfortunately, the sudden movement caused her elbow to bump the edge of the specimen tray.
Kaelus lunged forward and Clair gasped as one enormous arm shot past her, catching the tray before it could hit the floor. At the same time, his other hand closed around her waist and pulled her back against his massive chest, keeping her from stumbling into the analyzer.
For one strange second, neither of them moved.
Clair was suddenly extremely aware of the fact that Kaelus was holding her, and Lord, he was big.
She had known that intellectually, of course.
It was difficult to miss a seven-and-a-half-foot tall male who had shoulders like a professional linebacker and arms thicker than most women's thighs.
But knowing he was enormous and actually being pressed against all that hard, warm muscle were two very different things.
His hand was wrapped possessively around her hip. And despite all the growling and glaring and general bad temper, he smelled wonderful—warm and masculine with a faint spicy scent she couldn't identify but which drew her to him in a way she didn’t understand.
Then Kaelus seemed to realize what he was doing. He released her so abruptly that Clair almost stumbled again.
“Don’t move,” he growled.
“Well, make up your mind, big guy,” Clair exclaimed, flustered. “First you're dragging me all around and now I'm not allowed to move?”
“I was preventing you from destroying a piece of equipment worth more than the annual scientific budget of your entire state of Georgia!”
“Oh, please!” Clair exclaimed. “I wasn't going to destroy anything.”
“You were about to knock an active sample onto the floor,” he accused.
“Because you came in here roaring like a pissed-off lion and scared the hell out of me!” she snapped, glaring up at him.
“I wouldn’t have to roar if you would obey my rules!” he shot back.
“Oh my God, not your precious rules again.” Clair rolled her eyes and Kaelus's expression darkened.
“Yes, the rules again! You have broken every one of them!”
“I have not!” she denied.
He pointed toward the black tape barrier on the floor.
“Rule number one—you are standing on my side of the laboratory.”
Clair looked down and saw it was true—both of her feet were well across the black line.
“All right, fine, so I broke rule number one,” she said, shrugging.
But Kaelus wasn’t finished.
“Rule number two—you are using my equipment,” he pointed out.
“All right, so I broke rule two as well,” she admitted. “But I can’t believe you’re so selfish you won’t even share your equipment! I would share mine with you if you asked.”
“You have nothing that I need,” Kaelus said coldly. “But I am not finished—you were also speaking while your scientific work was being conducted which I have repeatedly asked you not to do.”
“You weren't even here!” Clair protested. “That one shouldn't count!”
He glared at her.
“It counts.”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, that's just stupid.”
“It is not stupid! You have broken all my rules—every one of them!” he growled.
“Well maybe you need to think about revising them,” Clair snapped back. Then she gave him what her grandma always called a “hard look,” holding eye contact and refusing to let him intimidate her, despite his massive size.
For the past month, she had made a point of refusing to let him get under her skin.
Every growl, every irritated look, every complaint about her coffee maker or her plants or the way she arranged her workspace had been met with a smile and a sugary nickname.
She had done it partly because she genuinely preferred getting along with people and partly because it drove Kaelus absolutely crazy when she refused to get angry.
But suddenly she was angry—really angry.
Maybe it was the fact that she'd been working twelve-hour days for the past week.
Maybe it was the stress of trying to catch the star-vine during its ridiculously short flowering period.
Or maybe she'd simply had enough of being treated as though she were some foolish child who had wandered into a real scientist's laboratory by mistake.
“Do you know what, Doctor Kaelus?” she demanded, putting both hands on her hips. “I have been bending over backwards for the past month trying to get along with you.”
His brows rose.
“Bending over backwards? In what way? I have never seen you performing any kind of gymnastics in the lab.”
Clair shook her head.
“It's an expression.”
He let out a dismissive grunt.
“Huh. Another human expression which makes no logical sense.”
“Oh, shut up about the expressions already!” Clair exclaimed.
His golden eyes widened, and he stared at her in surprise.
Clair felt a momentary rush of satisfaction. Good—let him be surprised. But she wasn’t done yet.
“You have made it perfectly clear from the moment I walked through that door that you don't want me here,” she continued.
“You divided the damn room in half like we’re a pair of children sharing a bedroom.
You wrote rules on a board telling me where I can stand and when I'm allowed to talk.
You complain about my coffee—even though you drink it—you complain about my plants, you complain about my equipment, and you act like every time I breathe on your side of that ridiculous black line, I'm contaminating your precious laboratory!”
“Well…you are extremely disruptive!” Kaelus growled, looking taken-aback by her sudden accusations.
“And, you're extremely rude!” Clair snapped.
His brows drew low over his golden eyes.
“I am not rude!”
“Yes, you are!” Clair shot back. “You're rude and bossy and controlling and so damned convinced you're the only competent scientist in this room that you haven't even bothered to learn anything about me!”
He folded his arms over his massive chest.
“That is not true.”
“Oh, really?” Clair demanded. “Then tell me what my doctoral thesis was about.”
Kaelus opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“Uh-huh.” Clair nodded. “That's what I thought.”
“I have no reason to memorize your academic history.” But did his voice sound slightly defensive? Clair thought it did.
“No, because you've already decided I don't know what I'm doing.”
She poked a finger at his broad chest, which was probably a stupid thing to do considering that it was like poking a brick wall, but she was too angry to care.
“Well, news flash, big fella—I had been working in Xenobotany for almost twenty years before I ever set foot on this ship. I didn't get my grant because Commander Sylvan thought my Southern accent was cute. I got it because I'm damn good at what I do.”
“I never said you were not competent,” he protested, putting up his hands.
“You didn't have to! You've spent the last few months treating me like I'm some kind of annoying little pest you've been forced to tolerate. Well, I’m sick of it!” Clair exclaimed.
Kaelus's jaw tightened. His eyes had gone strangely bright.
Clair had noticed before that the gold in them sometimes seemed more intense when he was angry, but she'd never seen them look quite like this. They were almost glowing.
And for some reason he wasn't looking at her face anymore—he was looking at her mouth and his golden eyes were suddenly half-lidded.
The realization made something flutter unexpectedly low in her belly. Why was he looking at her like that? Like…
Like he wants to kiss you, whispered a little voice in her head.
Clair shoved it away.
Don’t be ridiculous! she lectured herself. He doesn’t want to kiss you—he’s angry. That’s all.
Still, there was something in the way the big Hybrid was staring at her that didn't feel like anger…or at least not only anger.
Then Kaelus dragged his gaze back up to her eyes.
“You should not have touched the analyzer,” he said in a lower voice, that didn’t sound quite so angry as before.
“Well, you should have let me use it when I asked,” Clair said, frowning. “It’s rude to refuse to share equipment when we’re sharing a lab.”
His brows drew low.
“It requires precise calibration.”
She gave him another hard look.
“I know how to calibrate scientific equipment.”
“Not this equipment.” Kaelus put a protective hand on the MRA, as if she might break it just by being near it.
“Well then, maybe you could show me instead of acting like I'm too stupid to learn!” Clair snapped back.
He frowned.
“I do not think you are stupid. I have never thought that.”
“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it!” she pointed out.
“I am not finished,” Kaelus growled. “I do not think you are stupid—I think you are reckless. Also, disorganized and extremely distracting. You scatter your belongings across every available surface. You bring dirt into a sterile research environment. You drink that foul-smelling brown liquid constantly. You talk to yourself. You talk to me. You talk to your plants. You hum while you work. And you look…the way you look,” he ended weakly.
Clair stared at him.
“What is that supposed to mean? How do I look, exactly?” she demanded.
He shook his head.
“Never mind. The point is, you are difficult not to notice.”
Before Clair could shoot back a reply, the MRA gave a sharp electronic chime behind them and both their heads turned.
The three-dimensional molecular model was still hovering over the machine, but now the golden cluster Clair had noticed earlier had expanded. A second structure had appeared beside it, glowing bright blue.
Kaelus frowned.
“What in the Seven Hells did you put in my analyzer?” he demanded.
She shrugged.
“Just a petal from my Vellarian star-vine.”
His head snapped around.
“An active sample? You put an active sample in my analyzer?”
Clair lifted her chin. No point in denying it when he was already mad.
“Yes,” she said. “I did.”
The big Hybrid’s expression darkened all over again.
“I expressly told you never to put unprocessed biological material into my analyzer!”
She crossed her arms.