3. Clair #4
“Liar.” Clair beamed at him and turned back toward the analyzer. “You'd have had a heart attack if I'd broken your precious machine.”
“I would not have a heart attack. Kindred cardiovascular systems are considerably more durable than human cardiovascular systems,” he said, frowning.
Clair laughed.
“It's an expression, sweetie-pie.”
“Why do you insist on calling me these inane nicknames?” Kaelus growled but Clair only laughed again.
However, when she looked back at the display, her smile softened into something more thoughtful.
The two glowing molecular structures continued to rotate side by side—the inactive precursor and the compound it became only after being processed by living tissue.
Something about what she was seeing tickled the part of her brain that had made her go into science in the first place.
“This is really strange,” she murmured.
“Yes, it is.” Kaelus came closer again, his irritation apparently forgotten as his scientific curiosity took over. “There are several documented compounds which require metabolic activation. But this transformation is unusually dramatic.”
“It's almost like the plant doesn't make the medicine at all,” Clair said slowly. “It makes the raw material and then something living has to finish it.”
Kaelus looked at her thoughtfully, which was a change from his usual irritated demeanor.
“That is an interesting way to state it.”
Clair gave him a sly smile.
“Well, you know me. Reckless and interesting.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. It was such a tiny movement Clair almost thought she'd imagined it but no—it was definitely there.
“Did you just smile?” she demanded.
“What? No!” he protested quickly.
“You did!” Clair exclaimed.
He frowned.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.” Clair pointed at him. “Oh my God, Doctor Kaelus has facial muscles!”
“I have always had facial muscles,” he growled.
Clair shrugged.
“Well, apparently you just haven't been using them.”
He gave her his usual dark scowl, but somehow it didn't have quite the same effect anymore.
Maybe because she had seen the almost-smile underneath it or maybe because for the first time since she'd moved into the lab, she felt as though they'd actually worked together instead of merely occupying opposite sides of the same room.
Or maybe it’s because of the way he caught you when you almost fell against the analyzer, whispered a little voice in her head.
Clair pushed that last thought firmly away—she was not going there.
She had spent too many years arranging her life around a man who thought her needs came second to his. She was finally free. She had her work, her grant, and an entire universe of alien plant life waiting to be explored.
The last thing she needed was another man—especially a huge, growling, impossible Beast/Blood Kindred Hybrid who had literally drawn a line on the floor to keep her away from him.
“I'm going to take another sample before the flower closes,” she said, stepping away from the analyzer. “Now that we know what we're looking for, I want to compare the concentration at different stages of the bloom.”
Kaelus nodded.
“I will recalibrate the analyzer.”
Clair stared at him.
“You'll what?”
He shrugged.
“I said, I will recalibrate it.”
“No, I heard you.” She turned back to him. “You mean…you're going to let me use it again?”
His expression became pained.
“Only under supervision.”
Clair grinned.
“Why, Doctor Kaelus, I do believe we're making progress.”
He frowned.
“We are not.”
She laughed.
“We absolutely are.”
He pointed a finger at her.
“You are still forbidden from using my equipment without permission.”
“Of course, honey-bun.” Clair nodded.
He glared at her.
“And you are still required to remain on your side of the laboratory unless there is a legitimate scientific reason to cross.”
“Whatever you say, baby-cakes.” Clair blew him a kiss and his eyes flashed.
“Do not call me ‘baby-cakes.’”
She raised her eyebrows.
“What about pumpkin?”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, making the white fabric of his lab coat bulge against his biceps.
“No.”
“Snuggle-bunny?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Sweet cheeks?” she suggested.
The big Hybrid gave her a measured look.
“Doctor Donovan…”
The warning growl in his voice only made Clair's smile wider.
“Yes, Doctor Kaelus?”
He glared at her for another long moment, then he pointed toward the star-vine.
“Collect your sample before it degrades.”
Clair blinked and looked back at the growth chamber.
“Crap!”
She rushed across the black line toward her side of the laboratory. Behind her, she could have sworn she heard a low rumbling sound. It wasn’t a growl this time—could it be something suspiciously close to a chuckle?
But when she turned around, Kaelus was already bent over the Molecular Resonance Analyzer, his broad back to her as though he'd been completely focused on his work the entire time.
Clair narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe there was a sense of humor buried somewhere under all that muscle and bad temper after all.
She'd just have to keep digging until she found it.