Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(36)

Approaching the tent, I pause outside it. “Katya?”

No answer.

I know she’s up. I push aside the tent opening and find the tent empty.

“Goddamn it, Katya.” With a sigh, I pull out my phone and text her. Pressing send, there’s a pause before I hear a chime behind me.

I turn to see her coming from the direction of the bathrooms, bag in hand. For a moment, I’m caught by her gorgeous eyes and perfect features. She’s dressed in snug pants and a long sleeved polo. The bruise on her cheek is yellowish, and guilt trickles through me.

She glances from the phone to me with annoyance. “Right here,” she answers.

“Are you ever going to try to be a team player?” I ask.

“Oh, you’re going there?” Katya arches an eyebrow and stops before me. “Who sent a nine year old in to dump spiders on my head?”

I smile. I shouldn’t. It’s too damn funny not to. “I tried to wake you up three times. He had better luck.”

The familiar tension is between us again. This time, I have a better idea of what I’m missing, of how incredible her body is beneath the clothes and how natural it felt against mine. I understand what this tension is, even if I don’t like it one bit.

As if thinking similar thoughts, her cheeks turn pink.

For the first time since I’ve met her, Katya backs down. She moves around me and flings open the entrance to the tent.

“You missed dinner last night,” I say. “Are you coming to breakfast?”

“I’m fine.”

I go from being aroused around her to wanting to kill her in a flash. I’m not sure how she does that to me. But her welfare, whether or not either of us likes it, is my concern for this week. It’s how teams work, even if she never figures that out on her own.

“It’s going to be a long day. You need to eat something.” I somehow manage to keep my tone level.

“I don’t want to go in there!” she snaps.

Interesting choice of words. I frown. She didn’t say anything about me and I know the kids aren’t a deterrent. This conversation is reminding me of when she asked me to teach her to punch someone. She’s hiding something. I can’t even guess as to what.

“Should I bring you something?” I ask.

“No.”

“You just can’t …” I swallow the rest of my sentence. Bitching won’t help anyone.

“What?” She re-emerges from the tent with a sweatshirt on.

“Nothing. I’ll get the team ready.”

Katya rolls her eyes and starts towards the kids’ tent.

There’s so much hanging between us. I feel like I should say something, but god help me, I have no f*cking clue what. Drawing a breath, I decide to approach it the way I would anything else. Directly.

“About last night.”

She freezes.

I approach her, stopping close enough for her body heat to reach me. I don’t want anything I’m about to say to be overheard, and well … I like being this close to the woman I can’t stand half the time.

“Thank you,” I manage. It doesn’t seem like enough, and yet, it’s too much. I’m acknowledging being weak to the one person who won’t hesitate to throw it in my face.

She says nothing.

“And I’m sorry about your cheek. When I’m stuck in the nightmare, I’m not always -”

“You didn’t do that.” She turns and gazes up at me, too close and not close enough. “You wouldn’t. Even by accident. You’re wound too tight.”

What the f*ck do I say to that? And why do I have the urge to touch her? Nothing happened between us. We’re not in a relationship. Just a few awesome kisses and a hint of what a night with her would be like … and that tension that makes my body flood with adrenaline and anticipation, preparing to charge into battle.

“You’re sure?” I ask, eyes on her cheek. “Something happened.”

“You didn’t hit me. Trust me. I know.” She starts away.

My emotions immediately slam silent. “Whoa.” I take her arm. “Someone hit you?”

She shrugs. “Stuff happens.”

“No, stuff doesn’t randomly happen. After last night, you should know that,” I snap.

She averts her gaze.

“Who? And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. I swear if you use that line one more time this week …” Wrong approach. Too late, I realize it.

“You’ll what?” She challenges, a flash of fire crossing her gaze as she glares up at me.

Kiss you. Finish what we started last night. There’s no safe answer. “If one of my guys laid a hand on you, I will take care of it,” I tell her resolutely.

Katya shakes her head. “It wasn’t them, and I took care of it myself.” She holds up her right hand. “You’re right about punching someone. It hurts. Totally worth it.”

If this conversation weren’t so serious, I’d laugh at her surprised look. I take her wrist without dropping her gaze.

“Who, Katya?” I demand. “Is that why you don’t want to go to the mess hall? You’re afraid?”

“Of course not.” She sighs. “I don’t want to get in trouble for hitting him.”