Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (english readers TXT) 📗

but they are performing adequately. She will need to use caution in the use of the leg until it has grown stronger.”

Bronte couldn’t help but think he sounded almost disappointed.

Caleb approached her. His gaze was on her face, but he spoke to the medic. “She should not be allowed to walk to her quarters then?”

Bronte glanced at the medic. “I need to walk on it to build up the strength.”

He considered it. “Short distances only to begin with. If you are building strength, then you must use it only a little at first.”

That, apparently, settled it as far as Caleb was concerned. He scooped her off the table. Exhausted from her outburst, Bronte struggled with the urge to slump against him for a few minutes and then decided she was just too tired to care what he would think about it and dropped her head to his shoulder as they left the medical center again.

She was too tired to think, either. All she wanted was privacy, a bed to lay down on … maybe a bath and food, but she wasn’t as interested in either of those at the moment as she was the bed and time alone, and that was the limit of her interest in her quarters.

He took a new direction when they left the medical center. This one passed through a section of the city where people were stirring, she discovered.

They stared. She didn’t know if it was because the soldier was carrying her like a child, or if it was because they knew, somehow, that she wasn’t a cyborg … or because they didn’t pass any women at all. Uneasiness pierced her apathy, however, when she noticed and she tightened her arms around the man’s shoulders, hiding her face against his neck, wishing she could vanish altogether.

By the time she’d decided they’d passed beyond inspecting eyes and lifted her head to look around and see if she was right, they’d traversed the blocks of the business area and entered a residential section. Halfway down the block, the man turned onto a precisely perpendicular walkway lined with, of all things, flowers, and was approaching a smallish structure that looked like it must be a single family unit dwelling. It looked too big for one, and too small to accommodate living quarters for more than three or four individuals.

Mounting several steps, he crossed an open, sheltered area and entered.

Bronte looked around curiously when he set her on her feet.

“These quarters were assigned to you,” he said, lifting his head and glancing around to encompass the large room with his gaze. “This room is set aside for entertaining guests and relaxation.”

He paused long enough for her to examine the furnished room briefly and then strode to a doorway opposite the entrance. Feeling strangely detached and bemused, Bronte followed him.

“There are two sleeping chambers,” he continued. “One on either side of the hallway and a private bath off of each of those.” He gestured toward the doors on either side of the short hall, waited until Bronte had peered in both doorways and then continued to the rear of the structure. “This area is for food preparation, dining, and relaxed entertaining.”

Bronte looked at everything he pointed out, trying to absorb what he was telling her.

“A male doctor was anticipated so although care was taken to provide comfort, it is not likely this will suit your needs, but it is all that is available at the moment. When you choose mates, they will provide a domicile large enough to accommodate a family unit. The office where you will work is in the med center. You will be allowed time to rest, but it is hoped that your health will allow you to begin working within a few days.”

Her mind snagged on the comment about mates. She’d already opened her mouth to inform him she’d contracted when sudden doubt stopped her. If he didn’t know that when he seemed to have been well informed of everything else, then Gideon hadn’t told them yet.

The argument she’d had with Gideon just before they were rescued abruptly flooded her mind.

She hadn’t meant it, though. She’d only said it because she was afraid they wouldn’t want her anymore if they found out something was wrong with her.

They had to know she hadn’t meant it!

“Are you hungry?”

The question distracted her from her thoughts. She met his gaze for a long moment and looked away, glancing around the food preparation area. “There’s food?”

“The domicile was fully prepared for your arrival. There will be clothing for you in the larger sleeping chamber. I will prepare food while you bathe and dress.”

She didn’t know why he’d want to do that, or why he would’ve been ordered to do so, she supposed, but the suggestion that she bathe and change hit fertile soil. Nodding absently, she turned and moved carefully back down the short hall. She didn’t realize he’d followed her until she’d pulled the makeshift top off and turned around to discard it.

A jolt went through her when she saw him standing in the doorway of the bath.

He looked her over frankly and then crossed the room to inspect the window. “Unattached females are generally quartered in a secure location,” he said by way of explanation as he turned to her again.

That statement, as coolly as it was delivered, carried connotations that pierced her apathy. “Am I safe here?” she asked uneasily.

“Yes. I am to guard you and to report any unauthorized attempts to enter your quarters. We are only ten minutes from the barracks. Assistance can be summoned quickly if deemed necessary.”

Oh that was really comforting! “Why would you need assistance?” she asked uneasily.

“I should not.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts as it finally filtered into her mind that his gaze hadn’t lifted to her face since he’d turned to look at her. The movement seemed to break the spell. He met her gaze. “Why do you think you might need help?”

“I do not.” Frustration joined her anxiety.