Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

it, face-first into the pillows, her silken hair in wild disarray around her.
    “I‟ll call for some food for you,” he promised and strode over to talk to Ven, who still hovered in the corridor.
    “You can‟t stay here with her,” Ven said, his face and voice equally grim. “You know that, don‟t you? We need to know—gods, man. What you did for me—” Ven stopped, the words strangling in his throat.
    The emotion in Ven‟s—in his brother’s —voice twisted something inside Justice‟s gut into a painful knot. “I don‟t need or want your gratitude,” he warned, his own voice rasping with feelings better left unexpressed. “You would have done the same for me. Hells, you have done the same for me.”
    Ven scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, and they both pretended that two of Poseidon‟s fiercest warriors had not come very close to shedding tears.
    “Food. Keely needs food,” Justice said, desperate for something to change the subject.
    Ven glanced over Justice‟s shoulder and pointed into the room. “Actually, I‟m guessing she doesn‟t.”
    Justice turned to look and saw that Keely was sound asleep on top of the coverlet, still fully dressed down to her boots. He touched a pressure panel on the wall and the room darkened, and then he quietly walked over to the bed and stared down at her. Even disheveled and exhausted, she was more beautiful than he ever could have dreamed a woman could be.
    Ven‟s voice came from directly behind him, startling him. “She‟s a pretty courageous woman,” he said quietly.
    Justice‟s initial instincts had him clenching his fists to protect her, but that faded as the meaning behind Ven‟s words sank in. “She‟s braver and far more beautiful than I could ever deserve,” he admitted. “But she‟s mine.”
    Ven sighed, and then laughed softly. “I had a feeling that might be the way of it, as soon as I saw you two together. Remember, I just went through this with Erin. It feels a lot like being knocked over the head with a very heavy sword, doesn‟t it?”
    Shaking his head, Justice leaned over and gently removed Keely‟s shoes, then pulled the side of the coverlet over her. Because he couldn‟t resist—because he wouldn’t resist—he bent and pressed his lips to her forehead. She made a sound like a tiny hiccuping snore and then settled more deeply into the pillows.
    As they reentered the corridor, closing the door behind them, Ven clapped a hand on Justice‟s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie that felt familiar. Like something Justice himself might have done only four short months ago.
    Four long months ago.
    Now it took everything he had not to flinch from the contact. He warded the room with healthy, familiar Atlantean magic, forcing the voice of the Nereid to silence in his head. None would enter Keely‟s room while she slept; the powerful wards would ensure that. The dawn would bring what it would, especially if Alaric were back. But for tonight, at least, Justice could rest.
    Rest, and pray to all the gods that he would not dream.
     
    Keely woke up facedown in a pile of cloud-like silken pillows, still fully clothed except for her boots. Bolting up out of bed, she stared wildly around the room that she‟d been too tired to really get a good look at the night before.
    She was entirely alone and didn‟t want to look too closely at the little twist of relief—or was it disappointment?—in her stomach. Certainly it couldn‟t be regret that Justice was nowhere to be seen.
    Or at least so she tried to convince herself.
    Wandering around the room, she felt a feminine delight in the pale green silks and complementary cream furnishings. It was a study in understated elegance that enriched its occupant instead of making her feel inferior. Some sort of interior design psychology, no doubt. Or maybe it was an Atlantean gift. Beauty everywhere she looked.
    And the view out the window was a Cinderella fantasy dream. The palace gardens stretched for acres and acres of dazzling color and lush greenery crisscrossed by paths of multicolored stone. She wanted, more than anything, to climb out the window and escape to the peaceful serenity of the gardens. Away from warriors and craziness and tension.
    Instead, she resigned herself to putting on her Dr. McDermott face and finding out what they wanted and—just maybe—how she could help them.
    Help him . Justice was never far from her thoughts, as much as she might wish otherwise. Or