Page 17 of Liaising Kai

She ached to touch him, imagining how his skin would feel, so warm and smooth, except for the five o’clock shadow that coated that incredible jaw. He just kept impressing her every step of the way. She loved how he challenged her, made her think about what she was doing, supported her, and the way he had saved her, knocking her down to the floor while bullets whizzed all around them, and leaning out that window with nothing but his crooked leg anchoring them, nothing but his strength, determination, and courage to see it all through.

Even this staring at him was soothing. She wiped at her cheeks, the flight attendant hovering. The little gold pin on the attendant’s uniform spelled out Angela. She had concern written all over her face. Kai dredged up a smile and accepted the tissue the kind woman handed her. It hit her how lucky she was to have so many people around her who cared about her so deeply. Tears welled again thinking about Nate and all that she had been through with him. He had always been there for her. Always, and to lose him like this, especially when they had been at odds with each other was more than painful, it was devastating, and she knew all about devastating grief.

“Are you all right?” Angela whispered.

Kai smiled again and shook her head. “No, but I will be. Thank you,” she whispered back. Angela glanced down at Davis, then gave Kai a way-to-go, girl look. It was a common occurrence to see women drooling over Davis, and rightly so. The man was so well put together.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water would be wonderful.”

“Coming up.” She reached into one of the overhead compartments and came back with a soft, blue blanket. She handed it to Kai. “For him.”

The woman left and Kai spread the blanket over him, something therapeutic in tending to him after he so bravely saved her life twice today. He had some very sharply honed instincts for danger…and a face that was not only beautiful but so interesting to look at. His dark hair was mussed, his forehead smooth above those angular, sunshot gray eyes, his lashes so thick they looked unreal. She understood Angela’s reaction to Davis with his finely chiseled features, high cheekbones, and firm mouth.

But there was so much more to Davis than the way he was put together, and she trembled with the impact of the man. He had an economy of movement that matched that charming and commanding way about him, the difference between the two so slight as to be almost nonexistent and noticeable only by the subtlest of shifts in his gaze, from direct to forceful, to merely unavoidably intense.

He was truly impossible to ignore, and right now, Davis Nishida was her touchstone because being near him staved off doubt and fear. Seeing him like this was unexpected, since Davis was a force of nature when he was awake. Now, deep in slumber, he looked so relaxed, his face smooth of all expression. With those cuts and bruises on his face, she was reminded again that, like her, he’d been through a lethal spray of bullets and an explosion.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Angela came back with the bottle of water. She took it from her and after another glance at Davis, the flight attendant moved on.

She sighed, opening the bottle and taking a couple of gulps. The cold, crisp liquid felt good on her tongue, sliding down her throat. She capped the bottle and, with tenderness working through her, she tucked the light blanket a little higher on his chest. She felt breakable as she had for so many years, but this type of fragility had to do with him. He compromised her, and she smiled thinking how that was such a good thing.Being rock-hard, restraining her movement, kept her anchored in a bedrock of pain, guilt, and grief.

How did Davis become the sculptor who was chipping away at her, molding her into something different just by being himself? How did she get so lucky? And would he be successful or were her barriers just too…unbreakable?

She twisted in her seat so she could keep his face in her line of vision. The plane jumped with a little turbulence, and when her attention went back to him, those eyes were now a charcoal gray, shadowed and aware.

He searched her face, then he pushed at the blanket and took her face into his hands. “You want to talk about it?” he whispered.

He was so close, and he smelled and felt so warm, and there she was, fragile again and very shaky inside. She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw against her own emotions.

“Don’t do that. Don’t internalize it, babe. What we feel is important, and it’s what we feel that makes us human. You don’t have to always be so strong.”

It had been a long time—a very long time—since she’d allowed herself some slack. Davis’s compassion nearly put her in sensory overload, his touch sending a trail of shivers down her back. Tension blossomed in her, and she pressed her thighs more tightly together, her palm slipping over the back of his hand.

He retracted the armrest between them. “Slide over,” he commanded roughly. Slipping his arm around her, he cuddled her to his chest. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, his face only inches from hers. He stared at her a moment, the muscles in his jaw hardening.

“Thank you for saving my life. I would have told you sooner, but I couldn’t manage my emotions if I let them go. It wouldn’t have been professional.”

“Fuck professional. We lost people today. Good, honest, hardworking people.”

Something gave way around her heart, and she shivered. Feeling almost too raw to speak, she reached out and gave in to her craving. She cupped his jaw, feeling the stubble along his jaw, scratchy and compelling. “You are so?—”

“Annoying?”

“Yes, that, too. But mostly you always seem to know what to say.”

“Oh, I’m charming?” he grinned.

“That,” she said with a slight smile that disappeared as she met those now glittering eyes, “and for protecting me, saving me. I would have died today without you, and I’m so grateful to you.” His jaw hardened beneath her touch, and without any warning, her eyes filled up. A feeling of desolation washed through her, and she dropped her hand.

He shifted, then cupped her jaw, lifting her face. “You can count on me, always, Kai.”

She looked up at him, her eyes awash with tears, and Davis brushed his knuckles across her cheek. His expression etched with strain, he swallowed hard, his eyes full of tenderness. With a long, shaky sigh, he pulled her across his legs, gathering her against him in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry about Carter,” she whispered. “I know how you feel. We just don’t know what was going on, and how they’re involved in all this. It makes it so difficult to know what to feel.”

“A little betrayed, a whole lot of anger…impotent anger…at them since we have no outlet to understand, and a shitload of grief. I’m so sorry about Nate, too, but there’s one thing we can do, Kai. We can find out who murdered them and bring those people to justice. Maybe that will give us some comfort, some closure.”

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