“Perhaps someone should look at Laszlo’s wardrobe,” Billy pointed out.
“He covered that,” Brenden said, pulling out the key for the apartment from his pocket. “If he’d got a single detail wrong, someone would have spotted it. We all are familiar with anomalous slip-ups and he’s been vetted up to the eyebrows. He’s a good traveler. Well-trained.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Billy stayed outside the door, where he could watch Brenden’s face. “Does that bother you? That he fooled you?”
Brenden straightened up. “Not as much as not knowing why.” It was a candid answer, one of only a few straight answers Brenden had ever given.
Billy realized that they were standing close together. It had been completely unplanned, but now he was aware of it, Brenden’s proximity seemed to shout in his mind. Nerve endings came online and his body tensed. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but it seemed to him that he could feel Brenden’s body heat radiating against him—a heat that no normal vampire would have. It was human heat, but he shouldn’t have noticed it, because he was human hot himself.
Brenden grew still and wary, in one in-drawn breath.
“A couple of shots weren’t enough to let me get used to it,” Billy said. He shifted closer, a half step that brought him almost to the point of brushing Brenden’s chest. He was able to look Brenden in the eyes. Brenden’s were black, framed with thick lashes that might have been effeminate on a smaller man.
Brenden shook his head. “You’re reading the wrong signals.”
Billy smiled. “No, I’m not. You haven’t moved away.” Now, he really could feel Brenden’s heat. He could smell him. A spicy smell, purely masculine. His body thrummed in reaction.
Brenden let out a breath that sounded shaky. “I don’t…” he began.
“Don’t…?”
“Do this,” Brenden ground out.
“Sex? Or men? Either way, you’re a liar.”
Brenden’s jaw rippled. His throat worked. But he didn’t speak. Billy recognized that for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He was fighting an internal dilemma. Fighting his instincts. And he still had not moved away.
Billy swayed so that his body pressed lightly against Brenden’s and his lips touched Brenden’s mouth.
The soft touch was electrifying. He tasted warmth and whiskey and a surprising softness. His nerves tingled and his body leapt to the most painful alertness, so that just the slight chaffing of the shirt against his skin was almost overwhelming.
He slid his hand around Brenden’s neck, holding him still, so that he could deepen the kiss.
Brenden stirred. His hands came to life, sliding up Billy’s arms, to his biceps. But they didn’t sweep higher. Instead, Brenden’s big fingers gripped his arms and he was being turned and moved into the room. He heard the door shut.
Then Brenden pushed him away, breaking the kiss. His hands gripped Billy’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.
They were both breathing hard, far heavier than a simple kiss would normally provoke. Brenden’s gaze dropped to the floor, then he looked up again, looking Billy in the eyes. “Damn it,” he said softly. Wonderingly.
Billy knew, as surely as if Brenden had spoken the words aloud. “That kicked up your resistance,” he said.
Brenden shook his head. Slowly. “Not resistance. Guilt.”
“Same thing.”
“Except that guilt is something I know what to do about.” His fingers tightened for a moment. “Stay right here,” he said. “Don’t move an inch.” He let him go and took a small step backwards, bent his knees and jumped. His feet had barely left the floor when he disappeared, leaving Billy with a strumming body and a mind full of questions.
Chapter Fifteen
Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2265 A.D.
“We need to talk,” Brenden said from behind her, making Mariana jump.
She turned, shading her eyes with her hand. He was outlined by the brilliant noon-day sun, a dazzling silhouette. “Talk about what?” She made it sound as casual as she could, even though her heart was racing. Would he never stop sneaking up on her like that?
“Laszlo.”
Mariana dropped her hand and looked down at her board. It was a good way of hiding any reaction that might show on her face. Laszlo had gone back to his hotel hours ago, after thanking Nayara for her hospitality and after pulling Mariana into a fierce hug with his arms iron bands around her waist. He had kissed her until she was breathless.
Then he’d rested his forehead against hers, so that the green in his eyes seemed to be all she could see. “Dinner tonight?” he asked, his voice low.
Her pulse leapt. “Yes,” she said. Her voice was low, too, but that was because her breath had evaporated. Her body throbbed and she could feel the good aches from an enthusiastic night of sweaty sex and tendon-straining pleasure. “Dinner tonight sounds good.” But dinner was of no interest to her at all. Her mind had already leapt beyond dinner, to what might come after.
“Somewhere private, away from the media and blood-wielding protestors,” Laszlo suggested, his thumb stroking across her cheek, leaving silvery sparks in its wake.
“Here?”
“I want to take you away from your job for a few hours and from everyone who might remind you of your duties.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Do you mind…would you consider my hotel suite?”
“Is there a reason I should not?” she asked, puzzled.
“It seems like such a clichéd location.” He sighed and straightened up, but his arms didn’t let her go. “Especially for me.” His mouth quirked upwards. “I don’t like offering you clichés.”
“But perfectly private locations are difficult to arrange here in Rome and Brenden won’t let either of us use another jump car, not while they’re still trying to figure out what happened to the last one. That leaves public transport and he’d melt on the spot if I even suggest it.”
Laszlo laughed. “It’s difficult to imagine anything making Brenden melt but I do agree with you.” He kissed her. “Once this business is done and we are free to go where we want, I will take you somewhere perfectly private and perfectly pleasant, with not a hotel room in sight.”
Mariana gave him a small smile. “Let’s talk about that once the agency thinks it’s safe for us to move freely.”
Laszlo’s expression didn’t falter. “You still don’t trust me, Mariana. Not completely. But that’s to be expected. Never mind. I will content myself with dinner tonight. And dessert.”
Her heart gave a little skip.
He had kissed her one last time and hurried out to where the taxi was waiting at the bottom of the broad steps, then waved goodbye as he settled inside. Mariana sighed and tried to ignore the tiredness dragging at her. Instead she immersed herself in work, which never failed to absorb all her attention and diminish any worries and blow them far from her mind.
So when Brenden appeared behind her and said they should talk, she had been startled, because she had passed through the command center barely ten minutes before and saw that Rob was in charge and Brenden’s office was empty, which usually meant he would be gone for several hours.
Mariana glanced at the board in her hand. She had five minutes before she needed to report to Nayara on Mavourneen’s progress, which was why she was standing in the south cavedium in the first place. “Can we step inside to talk?” she asked. “The sun is very strong.”
“Sounds good,” Brenden rumbled, startling her all over again. He was agreeing with her?
They walked through the big arch into the south gallery, the long series of interconnected rooms that surrounded the main courtyard at the front of the villa. These were the oldest sections of the villa.
Away from the sun, the air was cool and seemed to whisper through the long, open rooms, bathing her skin with freshness.
Brenden drew her over to the corner of the first long roo
m, between the doors into the next room and the doors out onto the verandah that edged the courtyard, with its tall columns in ranks along the edges. She realized that he was shepherding her in such a way that she would end up with her back to the corner and Brenden in front of her. That seemed far too claustrophobic to her way of thinking, so she waited until they were both in the corner, then stepped around him, lifting the board. “It’ll distract me,” she explained. “I’ll put it on the table over here, then we can talk freely.”
When she returned to the corner, Brenden was the one with his back to the wall. That made her feel much more relaxed. “What about Laszlo?” she prompted him.
Brenden scrubbed at the hair on the back of his neck, ruffling the thick, gleaming black locks. He kept his hair short, which made his shoulders seem that much bigger. “Look, Laszlo seems like a decent man to me—”
“Really?” She could feel her eyes widening. “You’ve given everyone the impression you think Laszlo is the most superficial womanizer you’ve ever come across. Given that you’ve met more people in your lifetime than are probably alive today, that’s a profound statement. It’s the sort of thing people listen to.”
“That’s exactly what I thought of him. Except he did throw himself in front of the nut with the spike. Actions are everything.” He dismissed her objection with a flat wave of his hand. “Let’s not get distracted here. I wanted to talk to you about Laszlo—”
“Aren’t we talking about him now?”
“This isn’t what I wanted to say.”
“Then…?” She let her voice trail off and lifted her brow the way she had seen him do it, to coax people into saying more, often to their own detriment.
Brenden blew out his breath. “I don’t trust him.” He said it flatly.
Mariana laughed. “And that’s supposed to be a surprise to me?”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t trust his motives.”
“What motives?” She was genuinely puzzled.
He actually looked uncomfortable. “I don’t trust his motives around you.”
A cold, hard block formed in the middle of her chest, its chill spreading into her belly. “Because I’m dumpy Mary and he’s the world’s most eligible bachelor, do you mean? A simple date couldn’t possibly be what Laszlo wants, not with someone like me. He must have an ulterior motive.”
Brenden’s lips parted, like he was surprised. Then he pressed them together. Hard. “No, that’s not it at all. You insist on always misinterpreting me—”
“How else am I supposed to interpret ‘I don’t trust him’? It’s a pretty straight forward accusation—”
“There, that is what I mean. Who said anything about accusing him? I just don’t trust him. I have my reasons.”
“What reasons?” she shot back. Her palms were hurting and she realized she was digging her nails into them and tried to loosen her fists, but she couldn’t. She was too angry.
He hesitated. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to take my word for it—”
“You mean I should just trust you? Oh, that’s rich!”
“Mariana, for the sake of Artemis, will you just calm down for one sane moment?”
“I’m perfectly calm.”
“You’re not listening to me. You’re not hearing what I’m trying to tell you.”
What was he trying to say? Something other than he disapproved of her choice in men? She drew in a breath. Another. “Tell me,” she said flatly.
“I have reason to believe Laszlo has hidden reasons for coming to the agency. Reasons that have nothing to do with touring and nothing to do with you.”
Her body seemed to freeze, as she absorbed that. “You mean, I’m just a pawn?” Even her lips felt stiff.
Brenden pushed his hands through his hair again. Both hands this time. He let them drop with a sigh. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s possible.”
Mariana swallowed. Even that felt difficult.
“It could be sheer coincidence,” Brenden added. “He’s here for his own reasons and just happened to meet you. At this point in time, I don’t know for sure why he’s here. But I wanted to warn you. I didn’t think it was fair to let you…see him. Not without knowing.”
Mariana realized that her fists had uncurled. Her palms were throbbing. The rest of her felt like a thick piece of plasteel, cold and solid. It was the degree of shock that told her something she hadn’t realized until now.
Laszlo had got under her skin.
She liked him. More than that. She had been starting to care for him.
Fool! she raged at herself. She had honestly thought she was sophisticated enough to take a man to bed and keep her heart safely out of it. “I should have known better,” she said bitterly.
“I don’t know,” Brenden said with heavy emphasis. “He could be genuinely interested in you. Don’t look like that.”
“Look like what?”
“Like I just cut out your heart.”
Mariana straightened her shoulders. “I’m just disappointed,” she said briskly. “And that’s all. Laszlo was fun. I thought it might last a little longer.”
Brenden studied her closely. “That’s all?”
She shrugged and forced a smile to her numb lips. “It’s not like I’d be stupid enough to fall for the modern world’s Lothario and besides, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Why not?”
“I’m in love with someone else.”
Brenden had one of the most impenetrable poker faces Mariana had ever come across, but this time his shock was easier to read than screen text. His eyes widened. “You are?”
She went back to the table to pick up her reading board. “An old friend of mine, from the neural nets. He has no idea, of course, but….” She shrugged. “I figured out long ago that he barely even recognizes I exist. So I’ve tried to move on. Laszlo was part of that.” She was amazed at herself, at the easy way the story pulled together and how convincing it sounded. Of course, it was mostly the truth, so that made it easy to say without feeling like a fraud.
Brenden drew in a deep breath and let it out. “That makes things easier.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’ll cancel dinner tonight, of course. I don’t think I could stomach sitting across the table from him, now I know for sure he does have an agenda. But it’s not like I’m going to cut my wrists over him.”
“Good,” he said flatly.
“Were you worried that I might?”
“I had no idea what you might do,” he said frankly. “I just didn’t like the idea of not telling you about my suspicions.” He gave her a very small smile. “I know he stayed with you last night.”
Mariana nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
Brenden headed for the doors. “It’s my job,” he said gruffly.
Mariana watched him go, then walked through the atriums to the kitchen, her body still numb.
Deonne found her there, fifteen minutes later, eating her second serving of chocolate ginger ice-cream. The blond woman sat next to her and dabbed her finger in the dregs of the first bowl and licked it. “Laszlo?” she asked gently.
Mariana nodded. The harsh truth she had faced in the last twenty minutes meant that she wasn’t even lying…except that Laszlo was only half of the reason she was sitting there. “How do you handle two men, Deonne? Just one of them on their own is enough to drive me insane.”
“I’m a glutton for punishment,” Deonne replied. “Is there another spoon somewhere?”
“As long as we can sit and eat and not talk,” Mariana said. “My ego is bruised enough that I can do without a second round of humiliation right now.”
* * * * *
Bourbon Street, New Orleans, 2003 A.D.
Brenden knocked on the studio door and waited impatiently.
Billy opened it and did an almost comical double-take, looking over his shoulder at the spot on the carpet from where Brenden had jumped. “But you were ju
st here…”
“You’ll get used to thinking in objective time, instead of your own personal time line,” Brenden told him. “Can I come in?”
“Stupid fucking question,” Billy muttered and stepped out of the way.
Brenden shut the door and rested his hand on Billy’s shoulder. It was novel to do that with someone who was nearly his height. “I just buried the guilt. So if you’re still feeling the same way….”
Billy laughed. “The same way I was feeling thirty seconds ago? That you were feeling thirty seconds ago?”
“Two hours ago, on my timeline,” Brenden told him, “and I don’t feel the same as I did before I left.”
“No?” Billy’s eyes widened.
“I went back and cleared up some nagging issues,” Brenden told him. “I needed to get them out of the way, so I could do this.” He pressed his lips against Billy’s and felt the same whoosh of hot feelings that had rushed through him the first time Billy had kissed him. There had been a chance that the reaction was just surprise, but clearly, it wasn’t.
Billy grabbed the front of his shirt and drew him closer, until their bodies were pressed together. The kiss extended and deepened and Brenden let go of everything—every concern and worry and niggling issue he was dealing with. He let himself enjoy the kiss.
When Billy let him go and put enough distance between them that they could look at each other properly, he was smiling.
“This is such a bad idea,” Brenden muttered and reached for the buttons on Billy’s shirt.
“What’s bad about it?” Billy stood still and let him tackle the buttons.
“I still don’t have a clue why you—what Laszlo wants. Why he came back.” He pulled the shirt open and tugged it out of his jeans. Because it was oversized, it slid down Billy’s arms and fluttered to the floor.
“That’s Laszlo, not me.”
“But it is you, just somewhere ahead in time.” Brenden opened his jeans, struggling with the quaint zipper system, then pushed his hand inside. Billy’s cock was already stiff and upright and he curled his hand around it.
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