"I'll take you home." Hank's hand settled on the small of my back.
"Thanks." I shrugged into my jacket, with a little help from Hank.
A few minutes later, I was buckled in on the passenger side of Hank's truck. He didn't say anything, but I watched his jaw work for a few seconds before turning away.
"I'm staging the official breakup after Christmas. I can't do this anymore," I said, staring out the truck window. I couldn't look at Hank any longer. He didn't say anything, either, until he herded me into the house.
"I know you don't want to upset Kathleen, and you're a good person for that. Jayson and I will have a conversation during Krav Maga in the morning." Hank pulled my head against his shoulder and held me for several minutes before kissing the top of my head and letting me go. "We're leaving at one on Friday so be ready at noon; Jayson is using the corporate jet to fly us to L.A. Pack your bag, baby. I'll pick you up and take care of you."
"Hank, I can take care of myself. I usually do."
"I think you need a little help, sometimes. That's not meant as a gibe, either. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, and those are small shoulders. I have to go to work, now. If I didn't, I'd stay the night and Kathleen doesn't need to see my truck in your driveway when her driver takes her to a hotel downtown."
"She's not staying with Jayson?"
"No. I think it's by mutual agreement, somehow. Don't ask me why."
I watched Hank walk out my door, closing it behind him, with no kiss good-bye. I sighed and hugged myself.
* * *
Hank did pick me up at noon on Friday, and handed me a hummus sandwich from Francie's.
"I've already had a burger," he informed me.
"Honey, you are awesome," I pulled the sandwich from the bag, set the iced tea he'd gotten for me in the cup holder and started eating.
"I am awesome," Hank gave me a grin before turning onto the highway that would take us over the bridge and eventually to the airport.
"You know, I really can't disagree with that," I sipped iced tea. He'd gotten peach tea, just the way I liked it, and I was finished with my lunch long before we arrived at the airport.
The company jet was more than comfortable, with space to stretch out or sleep if you wanted. Since the trip would only take a little over an hour, I didn't try to sleep. Jayson didn't have any bruises on his face, so maybe Hank hadn't smacked him around too much.
"Bree," Jayson sighed as soon as the jet was in the air, "I swear I'd already made arrangements before Hank and I talked yesterday. I'll be going to train with another Master on fire play Sunday afternoon. Hank doesn't trust anybody, so he's going to make sure I stay out of trouble. I know I shouldn't have done it—this is Mom's time. And since I'm dragging you with me to make Mom happy, well, it ought to be your time, too."
I didn't answer him, but I had to Look to see what fire play was. Prescience kicked in and I gasped.
"What?" Hank was pulling me onto his lap. Somehow, he'd gotten the seatbelt unbuckled without me knowing.
"Hank, you need to ask that woman when you go whether she's sprayed herself with suntan lotion recently. She'll go up like exploding fireworks if you don't." I was breathing hard after the vision I'd had of some foolish girl getting barbecued because she'd decided to visit a tanning salon before putting herself on display. Most suntan lotions weren't flammable. A few of the spray kinds were.
"Baby, I'm not gonna ask how you know that," Hank squeezed me to stop the trembling and unsteady breathing. "I'll ask about the girl, I promise."
"What the hell just happened?" Jayson said.
"Rome, shut up," Hank said amiably. "I'm talking with Bree."
* * *
It took longer to make the drive to the Rome estate in Hidden Hills than it did to fly from San Francisco to L.A. The estate was more like a compound, with guest cabanas, an indoor pool, tennis court and exercise facility. That didn't include the main house, which was larger than Jayson's in San Rafael.
I was thankful, too, that Hank's bedroom was next to Jayson's, while mine was across the hall. Kathleen and James, Sr.'s room was on the opposite end of the house.
"We're going out to dinner tonight," Kathleen informed us the moment we'd shown up in the family room after dumping luggage in our bedrooms. "It's a nice restaurant; I hope you brought something suitable," she blinked at Jayson.
At the last minute, I'd stuffed a nice dress and short-heeled pumps into my bag and breathed a sigh of relief at Kathleen's announcement. "Tomorrow, we're going shopping," Kathleen continued. I frowned. Shopping wasn't high on my list—I usually needed something (badly) before going anywhere, and then I went straight for what I needed and didn't bother to look at anything else.
Hank lifted an eyebrow at the shopping comment, but didn't say anything. I wanted to rub his back—I didn't. That would destroy Kathleen's illusion that her son had a regular girlfriend.
Dinner was at one of the top restaurants in Beverly Hills, and we were driven there in a limo by Kathleen's driver/bodyguard. Until then, I had no idea Hank owned a suit. He did. Jayson was the rich man in the crowd, but Hank put him to shame.
"You look lovely," Kathleen admired my dress. It was one of those I'd bought in the D.C. area—my driver had known where to take me and I'd spent a fortune on the little, beaded black dress I wore. The dress was tight, too, and Bill had certainly appreciated it at a luncheon I'd attended with him.
"Mrs. Rome, you'll knock everybody's socks off," I returned the compliment. She would—she was beautiful, and her hair and nails were done to perfection. I'd done my own nails, making a few repairs with the power I held. I'd put my hair up, too—I'd gotten lots of experience at that while posing as my sister.
"Sweetheart, call me Kathleen. Please."
"Thank you—I will. That dress is amazing. Is it new?" I smiled at Jayson's mother.
"This old thing?" she smoothed her plum silk skirt. We both laughed at her standard answer.
* * *
"I like the stockings you're wearing," Hank whispered as Jayson and Kathleen spoke with the maître d. I'd bought black sheer stockings with a seam up the back to go with the dress—at the salesclerk's urging. The dress and stockings were stunning together, and I wasn't used to that—being stunning, that is. The shoes were designer shoes, and they'd cost a fortune as well. After all, one does not simply walk into a reception at the White House wearing any old thing; I was glad to get two occasions out of such an extravagant purchase.
"If we were alone, I'd be showing you how much I like them," Hank added before we were urged forward by an eager waiter.
"Hold that thought," I whispered to Hank as Kathleen Rome was seated first at our table.
I'm not used to anybody pulling a chair out for me. Prior to my arrival in San Francisco, it hadn't happened. I'd never eaten in the Queen's dining room on Le-Ath Veronis—formal or informal. In fact, with Gavin being the tyrant he was, I'd been lucky to get anything to eat. I sighed as Jayson pulled out my chair and scooted me in while Hank sat next to Kathleen.
"I told the waiter you're vegetarian, and the chef is working up a special menu to bring out." Kathleen smiled as if she'd pulled off the coup of the century.
"That's so nice of you," I said. Nobody had ever gone to this much trouble for me. I deliberately didn't look at Jayson, in case he was grumpy over the whole thing. I wanted to sigh, too, since Kathleen wanted to woo me more than her son ever would.
Drinks came first, and I had my usual glass of wine. Hank ordered an old fashioned and Jayson asked for an expensive Scotch with soda. Well, he could afford the real thing, after all. Kathleen asked for wine, too, only hers was a red. After we ordered, Kathleen chatted happily away about this and that—including politics and how the book on Everett Williams was currently being printed and would be released in three weeks.
"Ross is already working on something new, only he said it was a complete surprise. I think your father knows, Jayson, he just won't tell me." Kathleen poute
d prettily. She was the loveliest sixty-year-old I'd ever seen. While Kathleen talked, I almost jumped as a sock-covered toe raked my calf. Hank had somehow managed to remove a shoe and now he was stroking my leg with his foot.
"More water, madam?" A waiter brandished his pitcher of water just as Hank put his foot between my legs. I gasped, apologized to the waiter and told him I would like more water. Hank might be wearing said water in seconds, if he didn't stop what he was doing. The sadist turned his head and smiled so Kathleen couldn't see.
Several times during the meal, I wanted to moan and then attack Hank. Whether that attack was sexual in nature remained to be seen. Jayson talked with his mother about the magazine article on Mercy Crossings, and when it might be published. It looked to be one of the headliners in the January edition. It took all my strength to appear interested in the conversation and not collapse in a skillfully manipulated climax.
The ride home (for me) was completely silent. Hank acted as if nothing was going on and he hadn't wound me up past the point of no return. I was also contemplating his murder if he didn't follow through when we reached the Rome compound.
Kathleen retired shortly after we got back, after giving Jayson several pointed looks. She wanted him to make a move, after he'd ignored me all evening. Well, Jayson could go to hell. Hank was the one I wanted to throttle, one way or another. I stalked toward my bedroom, ready to fling off the dress, the heels and the stockings and step into a really, really, cold shower.
I didn't even get the bedroom door shut; Hank barged in and closed the door behind him, then locked it. Had anyone ever stalked me like that before? Hell, no. He looked like a tiger prowling after his prey.
"I was thinking about a cold shower," I huffed, walking away from him. The tiger struck. I was on the bed and he was peeling away the dress swiftly. Then the bra came off before he began to slowly—very slowly, roll down the tops of my stockings. I wanted to grab his hair and let him know how frustrated I was. He wasn't allowing it.
"Hold onto the sheets, baby. We're going for a ride." He placed a fistful of expensive fabric in each of my hands. "Don't let go unless I hurt you or scare you," he added. Three pillows went under my hips. I was still facing him, and frankly, parts of me were nearly in his face. That wasn't the end of it, either. He rolled my stockings down to my knees, positioned my feet over his shoulders—yes, the shoes were still on—and then buried himself inside me. I was so heated by that time I almost screamed.
"Don't. Let. Go of the. Sheet," Hank commanded. I wanted to—I couldn't control what was happening to my body—Hank was doing that. I shrieked as the first climax hit. I screamed twice more before collapsing and passing out from the intensity of it.
Chapter 13
Breanne's Journal
Hank was gone when I woke. Oh, he'd been there most of the night, and he'd made sure I was awake whenever he wanted me awake. I didn't think a superhero could walk after that, but he obviously had. I was vampire and I had my doubts whether I could do anything other than hobble a few feet before stopping for a rest.
Wobbling to the bathroom, I took stock of my appearance. A few spots looked suspiciously like dark fingerprints where he'd gripped my ribs or my hips. He'd kissed those places, several times, after holding onto me so hard. Still no lip lock, though, and I had difficulty dealing with that disappointment.
"Maybe next time, I'll give your back a clawing you won't forget," I mumbled at my image before turning the water on in the shower.
* * *
"You know I have difficulty commanding a fresh body," the lieutenant moaned his excuse.
"Nevertheless, it has been days. Tell me what you know," his superior growled.
"It was one of the Mighty, I have little doubt—the Larentii would not interfere like that," the lieutenant whined.
"What did this one look like? Which one came?" His light had gone darker as he asked the question.
"I don't know. I was attacked from behind, and even my shield was useless. I could not hear the approach, either, and the voice was like the voice of doom."
"Male or female?"
"I cannot tell," the lieutenant wailed. "I cannot tell!"
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"I want to take you to all my favorite shops," Kathleen's eyes shone. I had no idea why she was so pleased to take me shopping—she had a daughter-in-law. Jayson's brother was married and lived on the coast in Santa Barbara. It didn't matter, Rodeo Drive was in my near-future.
"How are you?" Hank murmured when Kathleen turned away to speak with her maid.
"I can't walk."
"I'll carry you."
"That won't be awkward or anything," I pointed out. "Just rent a burro."
"You're renting a burro?" Jayson decided to make his presence known.
"In case Bree can't walk," Hank chuckled.
"Hey, you made enough noise to wake people in Arizona," Jayson mumbled.
"Wow, sorry for your lack of sleep," I muttered sarcastically. Unfortunately, Kathleen had returned and heard my last comment.
"You didn't sleep last night?" Kathleen's voice was bright with hope.
"Breanne kept me awake," Jayson huffed. I considered punching him in the stomach. Kathleen Rome was all smiles.
* * *
"You don't have enough jewelry," Kathleen Rome pointed out. "I know you don't like to spend money on yourself—Jayson says so. We have to buy a few nice pieces to go with those beautiful dresses I've seen lately."
I saw all kinds of jewelry, from stores that often lent things to the stars for motion picture awards. Prices were astronomical, and all I could think was how much that might provide to a starving village somewhere. I saw earrings I thought were gaudy, selling for twenty-five thousand.
Eventually, I found a pair that didn't look completely ostentatious and I wouldn't mind wearing, for six thousand. They were diamonds in a white gold setting, and were quite elegant. I refused Kathleen's offer to pay. Jayson just stood by, hands in his pockets, as I pulled out a credit-card and spent more money on jewelry than I ever dreamed I would.
Three outfits and more jewelry later, we drove home. Actually, Jayson drove and Kathleen and Hank sat in the back. I had no idea what was going through Jayson's mind, since I couldn't read him. I intended to ask Hank, however. Even though I was still mad at Jayson for swatting me, he'd been almost human for a short while afterward. Now he was worse than ever.
* * *
"I told him to get in or get out," Hank sighed when I asked him later.
"I don't understand this," I hugged myself and went to stand by the indoor pool located in a pool house beside the last cabana. Jayson was doing emails, his mother had gone to rest for a while and Hank had pulled me away from the house.
"Bree—he has to make this decision and he knows it. You said you were planning the official breakup after Christmas. I told him that—you shouldn't have to keep covering for him. I don't think you'd have a problem with him doing his thing at times if he decided to stick around. Would you?"
"That doesn't really upset me; I just don't want to see it or hear about it," I said. "I would worry that somebody was getting hurt, when it was likely the opposite. I just don't know if we'd ever be compatible, and I really, well," I hesitated, because I was about to lay my heart open to Hank Bell, "I want you," I sighed.
"I know that about you, baby." Hank stepped up behind me and pulled me against him. "I don't see that as a problem. Are you the jealous type? I'm not."
"No. Not the jealous type. I'm really not Jayson's type, either. Admit it. That doesn't include the insults, the swats and the ignoring."
"His mother is upset about the ignoring."
"Yeah. She had a headache when we were driving home. Jayson doesn't realize how much she loves him, either." I'd never read her, but Kathleen Rome didn't hide her feelings about her son.
"She does. I've seen her more since you came along, but you're right—she really loves him a lot. You deserve better
than what you've gotten from him, too. He could have paid for that jewelry today without batting an eye. He didn't."
"Hank, I don't want anything from anybody that they're not willing to give. I want those things only if they want me to have them. Does that make sense? I don't want insincere effort because it's the proper thing to do." I shivered in his arms—the pool house was cold.
"Shh," Hank rocked me. "We'll fix this. I promise."
"Hank, I don't think there's anything to fix. Nothing you can fix, anyway. Give it up. Jayson doesn't want me and never did. I'll walk away after Christmas and it'll be over. He can go back to the women he wants. His mother will have to understand."
"She wants somebody like you on his arm. He's taken a few to family functions, but they're generally not his choice of companion, and it turns out that nobody's happy."
"That puts me in the not his choice of companion, too," I pulled away from Hank. "I don't do anything he wants. What about Belinda? He found her acceptable."
"He doesn't—she's just the closest he could get to vanilla in his public partners, to make his parents happy."
"So he hit the vanilla jackpot with me, huh? Do you know how that makes me feel?"
"Belinda's not his choice, and certainly not his parents' choice. I think the tattoo of a snake crawling through a skull on her upper arm sort of puts them off."
"This is so bizarre," I muttered, shoving hair behind my ears. "Look, I don't know what kind of women you prefer, either, so I don't know how I stack up against that. I'm not Asian, I know that for sure. Maybe we should call it quits, too." I walked toward the pool house door. Hank had rattled me, and that's probably not what he intended to do. I didn't have big boobs and I wasn't the right nationality to compete with Jayson and Hank's fantasies. Right then, I wanted to talk to Bill. He would listen and not make judgments, and I wasn't sure how I knew that about him.
"Bree, I'm looking at what I want." Hank's voice floated behind me. "When you accept that, come back and we'll talk."
Blood Trouble Page 19
