Page 56 of Shattered Silence

The other soldier nodded at Layla. “Holler if you need anything. I’ll hear you.”

Super-hearing? Again, no surprises. “I know,” she said dryly.

“Then you already know us well enough.” The warrior smirked and disappeared into the shadows, leaving her to be alone with Enki.

Who was naked.

He rolled the clear tube between his thumb and forefinger, before pressing a button that released a long needle. Without hesitating, he plunged the needle into his thigh, injecting the clear liquid.

Almost immediately, the fatigue faded from his face, and his skin darkened, becoming a deeper shade of silver.

“Plasma-protein injection,” he explained.

“Oh.” Layla didn’t really know what a plasma-protein injection was, but the substance seemed to have aided the healing process. She remembered the pain she’d seen on his face; the tortured howl that had erupted from his lips, a chilling sound. “You’re… okay?”

Enki put his hands on her waist and drew her into his lap. “I am now.”

His response quelled her concerns. A delicious ache started between her thighs, and heat spread through her body as Enki invaded all of her senses.

Oh! Layla couldn’t quite believe this was happening. The man who had saved her from a horrible fate was now wrapping his powerful arms around her, pulling her against his broad chest. He might appear cold sometimes, but he felt really, really warm.

And he smelled delicious, all warm, musky, intoxicating male.

“You are safe now,” he rumbled, dipping his head, burying his nose in the hollow of her neck. He inhaled deeply, running his fingers up the nape of her neck, threading them into her thick hair, apparently not caring that her hair was tangled and matted and hadn’t been washed in weeks.

This sudden display of affection shocked her to the core. For someone who could be so vicious, so hard, so brutal, he was also capable of surprising tenderness.

Enki’s touch triggered a cascade of emotions. First, massive, relief. Then came the horror, the realization that she’d escaped a terrible nightmare only by chance. Layla shuddered and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She drew strength from Enki’s solid presence, allowing herself to feel safe for the first time in…

When?

She couldn’t actually remember the last time she felt safe. Even on Earth, she’d been constantly looking over her shoulder, worrying about what her stalkerish ex-manager might do next. Damien Andross had turned her life on Earth into a living hell, to the point where Layla was confined to her sky-condo in Mombasa, relying on drone-deliveries and hired mercs for security.

Friends and acquaintances deserted her. The media barricaded the lower entrance with their drone-cams and filming-bots, and when management chased them out, they simply set up shop at both ends of the street, waiting for her to emerge.

She kept the blinds closed, because she’d caught one of their drone-cams hovering outside her bedroom window. She cut herself off from the few friends she had, because she didn’t want to drag them into this whole mess. She became a paranoid recluse, fearing every communication was hacked. She couldn’t even access the Networks anymore, because her name would eventually flash in front of her, leading to some sensational gossip piece about how the one of the world’s most famous VR stars had betrayed her billions of loyal fans…

And gained a new audience in the process.

Where is Layla Rose now?

Layla Rose. That was the screen name she’d chosen for herself. She was walking through the shiny lobby in Dubai for her first screen-test when she’d seen the elegant vase of long-stemmed white roses. It had a nice ring to it. Rose was her public face. Layla dela Cruz was private.

But now, Rose was no more.

There was only the real Layla, and she was with a badass Kordolian called Enki, on a ship bound for an unknown destination.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” His deep voice cut through her painful memories, pulling her away from everything that tethered her to her past.

“My savior appears to be trying to seduce me.”

“Trying?”

“Okay, maybe succeeding, a little bit.” In truth, Layla was putty in his hands. “I’m not complaining, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I notice everything.”

“Even the fact that I really, really need to shower?” It was both hard and easy to be self-conscious when one was sitting in the lap of a very ripped, very naked Kordolian male on the floor of an airlock in some unknown ship. Layla’s body was going haywire, desire flooding every inch of her while her senses went into overdrive, but she was also bone-tired, dirty, and aching all over.

---