Being Emerald. Sylvia Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ can see that.” She scanned the clothes spilling out of the duffel bag on the floor of the great room.

      “You were Amber?”

      She faced him and met his gaze. “Yes. I was designated Sapphire due to my IQ scores.” The intensity of his stare made her uncomfortably self-conscious, causing her to turn away. She crossed to his refrigerator, opened it and stuck her head into the cool air. “Milk? That’s all you have?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught him shoving whatever he’d been doing into a drawer. “What’s that?”

      “A project.”

      “Really? You’re going to make me ask?”

      “I don’t want you to ask. It’s none of your business.” He walked to the fridge, opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. He poured some into two short glasses and handed her one. He downed his and refilled it.

      Laila took hers and wandered into the great room. It was difficult trying to slip back into her old self—Amber Laila. That girl didn’t fit as comfortably as she used to. That fact saddened her more than she wanted to acknowledge at the moment.

      Flipping on the video feed, she plopped down on the couch. Rock followed and lowered himself next to her. They sat shoulder to shoulder. “Where’d they put you?” he asked.

      “Across the street.”

      He nodded. “They’re filling the street house by house. You’re the third person to get designated Emerald since I got here last summer.” He clinked his glass with hers. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he practically growled, then threw back his drink. “What happened this afternoon when you left the meeting?”

      She couldn’t tell him the truth, and refused to lie. She raced to find the right words, and the longer his stare bore into her, the angrier his expression became. Finally, she shrugged and gave the same lame excuse she’d used earlier. “I felt a little overwhelmed.”

      “By Garret’s presentation?”

      She broke their eye contact and feigned interest in the video playing. “No.” She felt him staring at her. Waiting.

      “Morgan was touching you. Has he done that before?”

      “No. I think his advances were for your benefit.”

      “Probably were. Sorry about that.”

      “I’m not the only person who thought so.”

      “Sydney?”

      Laila nodded.

      “Let me know if she bothers you again. I told her to communicate through me from now on.”

      “Why?”

      “It didn’t take a mind reader to tell she was being nasty. It was written all over your face.”

      “Oh.” He smiled down at her. He was gorgeous when he smiled. “Thank you again.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      “I got the distinct impression there was some hostility there between you and Morgan.”

      “That is an understatement.”

      “I’m not a fan either.”

      His gaze was hard. His jaw clenched. “Don’t worry. Now that I know you don’t want him touching you, he won’t get the opportunity again.”

      “Nice sentiment.” She shifted and laid her head against his arm. “But Morgan can pretty much do whatever he pleases.”

      “No, he can’t. Not this time,” he mumbled.

      Laila let the comment go. Even with all her barriers up, she felt his anger flare, but it was nowhere near the level he’d escalated to that afternoon.

      Tucking her hand between his bicep and torso, she snuggled close. It had been so long since she’d felt the trademark unconditional acceptance from another Amber. She’d never gotten an opportunity to experience the protection and care an Amber man instinctively exhibited. Maybe now. She sighed, contented. After all the years living alone in the Sapphire Zone, she finally had the touch, the sense of belonging she needed again.

      God, she’d agonized at the loss all those years ago. Eventually, she found the only way to cope with total isolation was by locking her emotions down and ignoring her need. Her refusal to let the solitude affect her helped her survive the complete disconnect from everyone and everything she’d ever known. Now, sitting there, the locks broke and relief flooded her.

      “It feels so good.” She didn’t need to elaborate. She’d felt his loneliness.

      Rock wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in so her cheek rested on his chest.

      “I missed it so much,” she whispered. She wasn’t alone anymore. Laila tried to swallow around her tight throat. But with her next breath, her composure fractured. Hot tears streaked down her face. When he squeezed her tightly and shushed her, his massive arms weighing heavily and giving comfort, she cried harder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and rocked her tenderly.

      Mortified, she started to pull away. “I’m sorry.”

      He pulled her into his side. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

      She gave up trying to hold it all in.

      Chapter 4

      By the flickering light of the video screen, Laila cried in Rock’s arms. He held her, stroking her hair and shushing her. His chest was tight and his stomach swam with a queasy feeling of foreboding. His earlier conversation with his father replayed in his head and his commitment to this woman who had so little and needed so much solidified.

      He absorbed her weight as she burrowed into him, desperately clutching the material of his tear-dampened shirt. She was starved for the unconditional acceptance and physical touch they’d grown up with.

      “Lie down. Put your head in my lap.” His voice was gruff with emotion, even to his own ears. She tilted her head back and gauged his expression with hope-filled eyes. His heart broke for her, and not able to face her pain, he had to look away. She stretched across the soft leather of the couch, her head pillowed by his thigh. He sought to ease her misery through the continual movement of his hands, trailing his fingers along the exposed skin of her arm and smoothing her hair away from her face. Her sobs subsided into an occasional hiccup.

      Soon, his hand at her waist moved with the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing. She seemed smaller than she had when she sat across the table from him at the briefing. Her coconut-scented hair drew him closer and made his mouth water. Tonight, instead of her professional attire, she wore a tank top and lightweight shorts. This was a side of her he hadn’t seen.

      He’d barely survived a year outside the Amber Zone. The pervasive hush here seemed amplified, especially when he’d first arrived. It was the complete opposite of the life they’d been used to. Amber was full of noise, of people, of sex. And, it was safe. Even with all those people crammed into tiny little spaces, he’d never felt safer.

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