Chapter 7
The second time around, Emma woke more slowly, stretching her body under the sheets and then burying her face in the pillow. She hadn't noticed before, but now she was more alert, she could smell him on the sheets and it was once again, strangely soothing. Still, while she could have stayed there half the day being lazy, there was no time for it.
Rolling onto her back, she noticed he'd already gotten up, the sound of the shower giving her a clue that he was washing up. With a yawn, she slowly slid out of bed and grabbed her now clean and dry panties, slipping them on followed by her jeans. Since the shower was still running, she turned her back to the kitchen/bathroom area just in case and took off her shirt, making short work of slipping on her bra and then the shirt. Feeling a lot less naked, sat back down and finger combed her hair a moment, styling it in a long loose braid for now. It was at least practical.
Her stomach growled, but she still wasn't comfortable enough to 'help herself' in his place. This was still his domain and she was intruding. Not really an invited guest. Standing, she noticed her disk sitting on the small bedside table and stared at it, remembering their conversation from the night before. Did they have a chance?
Lost in thought, she jerked her gaze towards him and then quickly averted her gaze to the ceiling again, one hand coming up to shield her eyes. "Ah, sorry. Caught me off guard." She mumbled, wondering which way she should turn to avoid getting an eye full.
She heard him chuckle with amusement. "Are you
shy
, Irish?"
A slow flush once again crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks all the way to the tip of her ears. OK...so she wasn't a virgin, but not only had it been many many years since her last encounter with a naked male, it had been less than impressive for one and she couldn't say that she'd spent much time enjoying the opposite sex like some. Too engrossed with her work, she lacked a lot when it came to matters of men and women, especially in the bedroom.
"I can tell that you're not. For shame, Liam." She teased back and cleared her throat again, studiously dropping her head and studying her bare toes while he got dressed.
****
It felt good to have a shower. The cold water didn't bother Hansen. He'd been having cold showers for years. He had grown up on the beach in southern Australia and in winter the water there was frigid. Well, so far as Australia goes.
He finished up and stepped out into the kitchen area. Emma was up and she looked straight at him.
She was blushing furiously and she didn't know which way to look. Which, of course, made it all the more fun for him. He made sure to stand there for a few extra moments before grabbing his towel, but then he put her out of her misery by quickly toweling himself down and wrapping the towel around his torso.
"You're redder than a beetroot, Irish," he laughed. "No fear, I wasn't shy last night with you, that's for sure. You should keep your hands to yourself you know. It was only the first date and I wasn't expecting payment in
that
way."
He winked at her. He knew he was being mean as nothing had happened, but the sight of her turning ruby made him nearly keel over with laughter.
He turned to the counter and dressed himself. Then he made a big show of of walking over to her and waving his hand in front of her face.
"You can look now," he said with a chuckle. "I'm sure your toes will still be there later so you can stop counting them."
She looked up at him. For a moment his face turned serious. He took her hand gently.
"Emma. I'll do what I can. You're as safe with me as with anyone. But you have to trust me. It could get ugly and I'll do things.... things you don't like. I'm not always nice and I'm not always fair, but I care.... believe me I care...."
He was lost in thought for a few moments, but then he snapped out of it. He dropped her hand and walked back to the kitchen bench. On the way, he picked up his dirty jeans from last night. He rifled through the pockets and pulled out the small electronic transponder, its green light blinking. He set it down on the bench.
He slapped his hands together and said, "Well, for breakfast we have a choice. Weak coffee or strong coffee. What'll be, Irish?"
Then he reached behind him, opened a cupboard door and slapped down a bottle on the bench.
Whiskey.
"For courage," he said.
His face was serious.
****
She was touched by his words and something else that lingered in his gaze. Something told her that Liam definitely had a past he more than likely didn't want to talk about. She had no intentions of prodding for his deep seeded secrets either, but for a moment she wanted to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him tightly. It was silly. He could take care of himself better than she could herself, but he inspired the need to comfort him.
Shaking her head, she watched him mark over the kitchen. Coffee? Oh there was a God after all and he was merciful! "Weak is never an option. Strong all the way, but, not sure I want the whiskey this time around."
The look he shot her called her a chicken and she sighed and sat down on a nearby stool, leaning against the counter, "Well okay...maybe a splash."
Eying the transponder as he worked around the kitchen, Emma picked it up, studying it. "Do you know...anything about what they implanted in us? I'm pretty handy with technology, but I can't say that I've ever paid much attention to SPF's use of weaponry. Sticking so close might prove to be tricky at times. Plus, do we get any sort of warning before one or the other explodes? Seems rather barbaric. Not that I expected much else from them."
The scent of coffee made her stomach clench and mouth water. "If I molest you in my sleep again tonight, will you give me more coffee in the morning?" She teased, her eyes sparkling, warm and flecked with little bits of gold.
****
"Hey," he said, smiling at her, "I have standards, you know. It was only a first date last night. What kind of guy do you think I am?"
He went back to the coffee. The smell permeated the room. It was one of the most relaxing things he thought to do these days, make a strong coffee. The smell itself was enough to be comforting. The percolator had finished and he poured them both a cup. He added a splash of whiskey to each cup, making sure that his splash was a little bigger.
Emma was looking at the transponder on the bench. Hansen was leaning forwards on the kitchen bench, propped on his elbows and sipping his coffee.
"You didn't have any problems sticking close to me last night," he said with a grin on his face.
She looked at him and stuck out her tongue. He looked at the transponder in her hands.
"Mrs. Chan will know what to do about that," he said.
"Mrs. Chan?" she said.
"I help her out every now and then. She runs a food shop in the city."
He could see Emma looking at him with a quizzical look on her face.
"Well," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "she runs more than just a food shop, but that's not important. She'll know about the transponder."
He stood up to relieve the pressure on his arms. He took another sip of the coffee. He could feel it permeating his body, warming him, getting him ready for the day ahead.
"The transponder unit can be disabled, I know that," he said. "But the shackles are another thing. We will need to log in to a master unit to disable those. That's trickier. Only SPF's have access to them. Sorting out the transponder is the main thing. We don't want to be losing it and blowing up, eh?"
She sat drinking her coffee. Hansen couldn't help looking at her sitting at the bench. Her little feet were perched on the bottom of the stool and she sat up straight, her body once again more defined since she was back in her clothes. Even though her dark hair was less than properly brushed, it gave her an untamed, feisty look, but warm. He wondered how warm she would be for the right person.
My beautiful scientist.
You're not the right person.
Nor is she.
She will lead you to your doom.
Shut up.
"Once we've sorted the transponder, then we just have to be careful ourselves. It's not the best that we have to stay close, as sometimes we'll be in danger, but we'll have to make of it what we can. Carl will know who to talk to about the shackles," he said. "We can't talk to him for a few days as he'll be hot. He'll be looking for a way to contact us and also waiting for us to contact him. But not now."
