“Alaric.” When she said his name a shiver went down his back, those syllables rolling through her accent. He suddenly wanted her to say it again, but he wouldn’t ask.
“What’s your name?” Okay, someone had taken over his mouth and was talking for him. He never asked these questions, he didn’t care about this information.
Except, you do.
Bloody hell.
Alright, so he did want to know her name, and the way that the edge of her lips had curved into a slight smirk had him staring. It made her look so much different than the big smile she kept plastering across her face.
“So, now you want details?” Oh, the challenge in her voice.
He fought the urge to smile back at her. “Just that one.”
“Tara.” She kept that smirk on her face, and her eyes were crystalline blue. She was unreal.
“Hi, Tara.” Great name. “Enjoy your shower. I’m going to clean up out here.” His voice was a little lower than he meant it to be, and a little below his waist something else was paying too much attention. She nodded and stepped over into the bathroom, and he forced his eyes to not track her to the door, which she didn’t shut. He was suddenly grateful that from his vantage point he couldn’t see inside the bathroom, because at the moment he probably wouldn’t have the self-control to turn around.
Standing up he moved into the bedroom and tucked the cuffs in his bag and dug out new clothes for the day. Her eyes had really lit up at the idea of going out, but then that made sense considering he had found her in that cell.
When was the last time you were outside?
His laptop was already open and he pulled up the document with her pictures looking at them more carefully. She didn’t have any marks in any of the photos, no bruises, nothing that seemed like she was restrained – but then again, if she healed every morning like that cut had… that didn’t mean much.
How much time had she spent in that cell? Was the bedroom just an elaborate ruse?
Alaric scrolled back to the top of the document with her turning around in that black dress, her blonde waves starting to come out of the bun. He had to stop staring at her – photos or otherwise. Pushing away from the laptop he gathered the clothes he planned to change into and took out his cell phone as he dropped back into the chair in the living room.
He sent a quick text: do you know when the drop is
Then he flipped out of the text message to Luca to start looking for places to eat in the area, browsing various popular restaurants while he listened to the water run. The smell of milk soap was filling the hotel room and he found himself taking deep breaths of the clean, soft smell. When the water cut off he glued his eyes to the phone, but she didn’t step out. Instead he heard the hairdryer click on and start its loud hum.
Luca responded quickly as usual: No. It may be outside Italy, possibly Morocco. You still have a contact for papers for the girl?
Well, apparently the client was from Morocco, and that would take time for transport. He’d also need to reach out to Claude, which was always interesting.
He tapped back: yes. will be expensive.
Luca answered fast: Make it happen.
No arguing with that. When Luca had his mind on a goal there was no deterring him from it. Like when Luca had seemed so focused on making sure the girl, Tara, was sedated the night before. Alaric had lied about it, and he still wasn’t sure why he had because he never lied to Luca. The man was too important to him to risk it over a job, but he just didn’t want to use it on her, especially not with how she had reacted to the handcuff. It looked like she’d been freaked out by it even while she was asleep, twisting her arm and rubbing her wrist raw inside the metal.
He didn’t want to even think of why that would be.
He was texting Claude to arrange a time to meet with him, knowing very well it would be hours before Claude was awake to respond, when Tara stepped out of the bathroom.
Long legs.
That was the first thing he noticed because the skirt she was in was awe-inspiringly short, stopping well above her knees. It was charcoal gray and the teal blouse she wore was form fitting and made her eyes pop. Whoever had gone shopping for her clearly knew her sizes and what she looked like. Her blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders, down to the middle of her back, and he realized that as he had assessed her outfit he had been blatantly staring. Her lips parted as she blew air out in a sigh and ran her hand through her hair, lifting it before letting it fall back.
“Your turn?” She gestured back to the shower and he stood up with a nod. He had taken a few steps towards the shower when he realized she’d be alone, in the room, and he’d be occupied and unable to chase after her. He stopped.
“I need to –” He started to talk and she interrupted.
“You don’t need to do anything with me, I’m going to stay here. I promise.” Her body had tensed, but she didn’t turn away from him or step back.
“I can’t risk it, it won’t be long–” His stomach turned as he spoke, but she cut him off again.
“Please don’t cuff me.” There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face now, and as his eyes wandered down her arms to the healed skin of her wrist he couldn’t forget how badly she had hurt herself in the night. “Just trust me, please. I swear to you I won’t leave this room or attract attention.” She was almost begging, and he really needed a shower. Who knew if cuffing her might make her freak out again? He’d trusted her last night when he’d gone to sleep not to scream her head off, and she hadn’t.
“I- ” he started, and he actually watched the light in her eyes go out, leaving flat color behind. None of that ocean water left from when she’d smiled at him.
“You have to give me a chance, or how can I prove you can trust me?” Her voice was so soft, so quiet, and she made a good point.
“Alright. This is incredibly stupid of me, but okay. I’m giving you this chance. Just please don’t make me chase you down. It will be worse if I have to catch you.” He felt completely evil saying it to her, but what would he say to Luca if she ran. No, I actually didn’t sedate her? Oh, and I left her unattended in the hotel room while I took a shower?
He should write a book: one hundred and one ways to get shot by your boss.
Her face changed like she hadn’t expected him to relent, and then she gave him that half smile again, where just one side of her mouth lifted a little. That looked like a real smile from her, not the dazzling, heart-stopping, A-List celebrity one in all of those pictures.
“Thank you, Alaric.” And she’d said his name again in that unique accent of hers. As dumb as this was, that almost made it worth it. Probably not worth the torture Luca would put him through if she ran and he lost her, but close.
“I won’t be long.” Stepping into the bathroom he shut the door and got into the shower as fast as possible. The whole room smelled like her milk soap and he didn’t know why it struck him so strongly, and had ever since he’d walked into her room. It was clean and light, not like the thick perfumes a lot of girls wore. He’d never enjoyed stepping into a cloud of fake flowers, or strong chemically derived scents that made his eyes want to water. Alaric shook himself. He needed to hurry, not think about her soap preference.
It might not even be hers, actually. Gianni could have selected it.
Either way, good taste.
He was done quickly, and stepped out to wrap himself in a towel. Please still be there. Grabbing the door he opened it and stepped out to find her leaned back on the couch with headphones in her ears, staring down at a little black iPod. She sat up and pulled out one of the headphones, her eyes dipping down across his wet chest and stomach.
Right. Clothes.
“I’m still here, Alaric.” Her eyes were back at his and he felt a flush in his cheeks. He couldn’t even form a response with her eyes on him so he just nodded and shut the door again leaning back on it. Dropping his head back against it he stared at the ceiling. She had stayed, and he didn’t know w
hy he felt so warm in his chest. It’s not like she’d stayed for him, she’d stayed because he’d threatened to chase her down, or handcuff her, or sedate her.
Like a real fucking gentleman.
“You’re such a prat.” He growled at himself. Tara was the one dragged away from what she knew, she was the one who was basically his prisoner until he handed her off to some tosser who had apparently bought her like she was a very expensive accessory. Alaric gritted his teeth as he rubbed the towel over his hair and pushed his hands through it as it started to dry. He hated that he was a part of this, and he hated even more how okay she was with everything. It would almost be easier if she were fighting this, if she was arguing how unfair it was. Anything. But he felt like he cared more than she did, and he wasn’t supposed to care at all.
He never should have agreed to this.
But Luca would have just sent someone else.
Alaric tried not to think about what some of the other employees of Infinity Consulting would have done with the offers she had made the night before, or would have done with that sedative.
Luca had been right, as he usually was, that he was the only one for this contract.
When he had his slacks and shirt on, he made sure the tie looked right as he stepped out again. She was in the same place, but her eyes were closed and her head was leaned back on the couch. He noticed she’d done her makeup, and her feet were tucked into some very pointy, very high heels. She could have stepped off a movie screen, or out of a high-end fashion magazine.
He really needed to stop staring at her.
“Tara?” His voice was quiet at first and he cleared his throat to say it again, taking a few steps towards her. “Tara.” Her blue eyes opened again and she gave him that movie star smile. If Luca thought he had a dangerous smile, he needed to meet Tara. How many people had she stunned into silence with it?
How many people had been killed over it?
As usual, his head gave him the more important question, and looking at her he felt like he was about to put himself in the line of fire with a smile on his face.
Chapter Eight
The British soldier, Alaric, cleaned up very nicely and had been honest so far. He had promised to take her outside and he had actually followed through. After they had pulled on coats and he had packed his messenger bag, he had stolen a stack of towels from a maid’s cart in the hall to restock their devastated room. Then he had thrown a Non Disturbare sign on the door, and had led her downstairs, into that beautiful car, and off into the streets of Milan.
They didn’t drive for very long, and it had been an awkward silence. Tara wanted to thank him for taking her outside, but she didn’t want to draw his attention to something he may not know was a bad idea. After all, she was still unclaimed. All hell could break loose if the wrong person saw her.
His problem - not hers. She was going to belong to someone new either way.
He parked the car on a street, and came around to help her out and she let him this time. It had made him very nervous the night before when she’d climbed out of the car on her own, and there was no reason to piss him off when she was outside, walking around like a real girl.
“Where are we going?” She asked as she took his arm, and he stiffened for a second before relaxing. He must not be used to people touching him, but he didn’t push her away so she left her arm in his. In contrast, Tara was too used to people touching her and had long ago suppressed the urge to flinch.
“I thought you would like some breakfast.” He was once again serious as he looked down at her, speaking English again. Even in the heels he was a few inches taller than her, so, at least six feet tall, and so young. Too young to be doing the things he’d done to get her out of Gianni’s.
“I would like breakfast, thank you.” She smiled at him and he inclined his head towards her as they walked down the street until he approached a very posh cafe. His smile turned on as soon as they stepped inside, and the hostess almost jumped out of her skin when Alaric looked at her. It made Tara smile for real, and looking at him he seemed well aware of his effect on the woman. It was amusing to watch him as he smoothly switched to Italian and asked her for a table.
Who knew he could be charming?
They were seated quickly and Tara crossed her legs, noting the heads that turned their way in her peripheral vision. There were women staring at him, and she was very used to the stares she got from men. Gianni had bought clothes like this to attract attention. A waitress came up and Alaric was in control as he ordered for them both, making the young woman swoon with his accent and the flash of a smile. Tara didn’t care what he ordered, it was just interesting to observe him.
Once they both had tea, and a small breadbasket was on the table, Alaric finally lifted his eyes to her. With the eye contact she could see that in the morning light they seemed to be a burnished gold, with flecks of green near the pupil.
“So,” he blew out a breath, “we have some time today, what would you like to do?”
Tara laughed, she couldn’t hold it in, and his forehead creased in confusion. “You want to know what I’d like to do?” She chose Italian to respond with, and watched as he translated.
“Yes, I do. Is that so strange?” He replied in Italian as well, and his features smoothed back out as he leaned back to drink his tea. Before he took a sip though he dragged a damp white strip out of the tea.
“Actually, yes.” Tara spoke in English this time, and she checked her tea but found no white strip inside it.
“Why are you changing languages?” He asked in English.
“I wanted to see how good you were.” She said in English, before she changed to German. “Kennen Sie andere Sprachen?” Do you know other languages?
“Ich spreche Deutsch.” I speak German. He smiled, “Et en Français trop.” And French too.
“¿Se honesta conmigo?” Will you be honest with me? Spanish was easy, she’d spent two decades in Spain rather recently. He paused for a moment. He was actually making a decision and not just blindly agreeing. She took a sip of her tea, appreciating how seriously he took the request.
He nodded.
She couldn’t help but smile at him when she spoke Swedish, a little more challenging, “Vilket språk vill Italienarna inte vet?” What language would the Italians not know?
His forehead creased, and he shook his head, replying in Spanish. “No sé que lenguaje.” I don’t know that language.
“What language should we use for this discussion?” Tara asked in English, keeping her voice low.
Alaric thought for a moment, and then he smiled into the cup, a small smile that only showed his top teeth. “Nihongo o hanashimasu ka?” Do you speak Japanese?
Tara’s head pounded for a second as Eltera’s power flooded her to allow her to speak the new language. The ability to understand and speak all languages was one of the best gifts she had given her Faeoihn, long before it was ever needed. However, being traded across the world would have been impossible without it. Nothing like having a master shout commands at her, those bands activate and torment her, all the while never having any idea what they wanted. That would have been a death sentence.
She reminded herself to smile and lifted her head again. “Now I do.” Tara replied in Japanese. The new language sounded a little like music, the intonations of each word making everything sound beautiful.
“Now?” Alaric looked at her for a moment and she just smiled.
“Yes, now.” Taking a drink of her tea, she sat it back down.
“How exactly do you suddenly know Japanese?” He was a little sharp in his question, and it made her lips curve into a real smile again. For all his calm on the surface, she could already see the buttons to press to get a rise out of him.
“I already told you that a god made me what I am.” Tara tilted her head and felt the weight of her hair fall over her shoulder. “Well, she’s a goddess, not a god, but the gods understand all spoken words. When she made the Faeoihn this w
as one of the benefits we gained.” Tara looked at him across the table, a little impressed by how calm he remained.
“Another of those benefits would be the light-up trick this morning, and the healing?” Alaric asked, and she nodded.
Japanese was a beautiful language, but she didn’t quite understand how he knew it.
“May I ask a question?” She asked, and he nodded this time. “Why do you know Japanese? Were you stationed there as a soldier?”
His eyes dropped to the table before lifting back to hers. “I’m not a soldier, and I learned Japanese from a -,” he paused, “- a coworker.”
“You looked like a soldier when you showed up at my last residence.” Cage.
“I’ve never been a soldier.”
“Then what are you?” Tara picked up the cup and leaned back, drinking it slowly. Here was where she would see if he kept his promises for honesty as well as he kept his promises for day trips.
Alaric stretched an arm above his head, and it looked casual, but she watched as his eyes scanned the room. He was evaluating who was within listening distance, and who was watching them. She could have told him that the only one interested in them was the hostess, who probably wanted his number, and the older gentleman sitting alone at a table to their left who was really just staring at the hem of her skirt and not listening to them at all.
To her surprise he leaned forward and switched back to English, his voice incredibly quiet, “You would probably say I was a killer, or a murderer.” He took a breath. “The fancy terms are assassin or hitman. Not like they make it any better.” His eyes were locked onto hers as he waited for a reaction that wouldn’t come. She was sure he expected tears, some kind of emotional outburst, or at the very least wide-eyed shock.
He’d get none of that from her.
“Thank you for the honesty.” She sipped more tea and the surprise that flickered across his face was priceless.
Tara Page 7
