by Sam Cheever
No comment. I pulled the bottle from the refrigerator and headed toward my room, bottle clutched in hand like a street bum. All I needed was a brown paper bag.
“What I meant was…obviously you do good things. You help people who need help finding love.”
Sensing just the tiniest bit of condescension in his tone, I frowned. “Actually we do help people. And we’re very good at it.”
“I get that. It’s just, my brother isn’t that type of person. He would never have sent you that application.”
Tucking the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I kicked off my shoes and dragged my short black skirt over my hips. My tights followed.
It was a little tougher to pull the white t-shirt off while using the phone but I managed.
“As I told you before, Mr. Leandar, I can’t discuss this with you. It’s your brother’s private business.” I headed into the bathroom. “He must have had a reason for sending us the application. Maybe you just need to trust his judgment.”
“He didn’t send you that damn application! Oh hell…” The phone went dead in my ear. I shrugged and set it down on the toilet so I could reach it if I needed to. I cranked the water of my Jacuzzi tub to hot and added some soothing bath salts.
At that point I needed all the help I could get with the soothing thing.
I divested myself of my bra and panties and climbed into the tub with my bottle.
“Ahhhh. Now that’s more like it.” Settling back into the lusciously hot and silky water, I took a tug from my bottle and closed my eyes. “An hour or two in this tub and I might feel human…er…goddesslike again.”
My cell phone rang.
I grabbed it and squeezed it so hard I heard the plastic of its poor little casing groan. Forcing myself to remain calm, I took a deep breath and pushed the little green phone icon. “Mr. Leandar, I’m trying to relax in a soothing tub—”
“Now that’s a pretty picture. Want some company?” The soft voice had lost all vestiges of anger and had been replaced with a decidedly lascivious tone. I wanted to believe it didn’t affect me but a tightening sensation between my legs would have made me a liar.
I sighed audibly. “Mr. Leandar…”
“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
I sat up straighter. “I don’t even know you…”
“I mean, just to talk.”
I blinked. “Oh. No, that’s not a good idea. We have nothing to talk about.”
“I think we have lots to talk about. Do you need more time in your bath? Let’s make it an hour.”
“No. Mr. Leandar…”
“Man, you take really long baths. Okay, two hours but that’s my final offer. I’ll see you then.” He hung up.
I stared at the phone, my lips moving but nothing forming in my brain to push through them. I was shocked…appalled…disgusted…tingly. No, scratch that. That last emotion didn’t fit at all with the others.
I stood up and grabbed a towel. I had to stop him from coming to my home. It was wrong on so many levels.
I had climbed out of the tub and was nearly dry when it hit me. How the hell did he know where I lived?
Oh shit!
I dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and headed out the door. I had Damian Leandar’s file in my car and I got the address off that. Driving way too quickly, I headed out of town, up nearby Mount Chartrain and toward the address listed on the application.
I found it on a winding, tree-lined road where huge, expensive homes sat nestled in the trees on the roadside, with an ocean view at the front.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful spot. And mind-numbingly expensive.
I rang the doorbell and waited, my heart pounding hard.
When the door opened I was shocked to find myself looking at Damian Leandar.
“Can I help you?” The voice was not unlike his brother’s but had a harder, more suspicious edge to it.
“Hello, I’m Athena Googlios, from Cupid’s Arrow.”
He stood there, looking at me with dark, sexy eyes.
When he didn’t speak I felt inclined to babble on. “You sent us an online application form.”
Finally the yummy lips parted and he said, “You make house calls?”
I laughed, flustered. How the hell was I going to explain? “No. I mean, I… It’s just that your brother…”
One thick, gold eyebrow lifted. “You’re here to see Peter?”
I dropped my purse and had to pick it up. When I stood my knees buckled and I almost fell. I dropped my purse again.
Laughing stupidly, I started to bend down again.
A strong hand grabbed my shoulder. “Let me get it.”
When he straightened with my purse he had a soft smile on his face.
I couldn’t help feeling like he was laughing at me. I frowned. “We need to schedule your pre-screening and I have a potential match for you…”
He held up a square hand with long, thick fingers to stop me. I couldn’t help wondering if what they said about a man’s fingers and his…well…other parts of his anatomy were true.
I licked my lips hopefully. Then berated myself silently for being a slut and a whore.
“Ms. Googlios, I don’t want or need any matches. I don’t know who sent you that application but—”
I nearly stomped my foot in frustration. “You didn’t send me the application?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “Then who did?”
He smiled, showing me beautiful, straight, white teeth. “I have no idea.”
My heart dropped in my chest. Damn! “Oh, okay. Then I guess we have no further business.” I turned and started walking down the steps.
I made it almost to my car before he stopped me. “Ms. Googlios…”
I turned, trying not to grin too widely. “Call me Athena, please.”
He smiled too. “Like the goddess.”
I laughed. My behavior to that point had been far from goddesslike. “That’s what I’m told.”
“You’ve come all the way out here. And it looks as if we have no business to conduct. But I wondered…”
He seemed to be struggling with something. His beautiful eyes swung away from me, searching the area carefully, before he continued.
I forced myself to stand patiently, waiting.
His dark blue gaze finally swung back to me. “Would you like to come inside? Maybe have dinner with me? I was just fixing a light dinner and I’d be pleased if I didn’t have to eat it alone.”
I wanted to scream, Yes! And run back up those stairs but I forced my head to nod sedately as I said, “I’d like that very much.”
He smiled and I moved toward him, climbing the stairs very carefully and dropping the long strap of my purse over my head and one shoulder so I didn’t embarrass myself again.
He stood aside and motioned with a hand for me to enter ahead of him.
I turned as I entered the house and caught him looking around the area again before following me in.
I wondered what exactly it was that he was afraid of. Because it was obvious that something had him spooked.
Unbidden, the picture on his application, where he looked haunted and brooding, flitted across my mind.
There were layers to the man who now ushered me toward the back of the beautiful house. Serious layers.
And I was as anxious as hell to start uncovering them all.
Chapter Two
Reluctant Applicant
“So where’s your brother?” I tried to keep the question casual but I saw Damian stiffen nonetheless.
He shrugged, closing the heavy door behind him and locking it. “He went into town for something.”
And I knew what that something was. Deciding a quick change of subject was in order, I said, “You have a beautiful house.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t look happy about it. “Kitchen’s this way.”
I followed him down a long hallway that opened into a bright kitchen with a wall of w
indows that overlooked the ocean. I made delighted noises. “It’s so beautiful! You must love it here.”
He shrugged again. “It’s nothing compared to the place where I grew up.”
I settled my butt onto a tall stool at an island topped in black marble and rested my chin on my hands. “Where was that?”
He was fussing with some pans on the stove, lifting lids and stirring. “Huh?”
“Where did you grow up?”
He turned his head, his features closed. “You wouldn’t know it.”
And apparently that was that.
All righty then.
I looked around, searching for a topic of conversation. Apparently I was on my own in that department. “So, your application said you’re a sculptor.”
He turned around, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m concerned about that application. I don’t like thinking someone knows so much about me.”
I had to agree it was a little creepy. “Could your brother have sent it?”
He frowned. “Peter? Why would he do that?”
I shrugged. “Why would anybody?”
His frown deepened.
I decided to try to lighten the mood. “It’s too bad you don’t want to go through the process. I already have a gorgeous woman interested in you.”
His eyes widened. “What did she look like?”
My smile faded away. Obviously this was not a good subject either. From my perspective anyway. “She had long, red-gold hair.”
He stepped toward me. “Hair?”
I laughed, “Yes.” Was the man used to bald women?
He tilted his head, a spark entering each ocean blue eye. “What about you?”
My heart did that blip thing and color flooded my face. “Me? Yes, I have hair.”
He chuckled and the dimples in his cheeks deepened. My pulse picked up. “No, I meant, tell me about your job. What’s it like working where you work? What was it called again?”
“Cupid’s Arrow. We help people find love.”
He snorted. “Nice concept.”
I shook my head, perfectly used to this reaction. “We have a nearly perfect record of finding long-lasting matches for our clients. It’s the real deal.”
He leaned on the countertop, resting muscular forearms on the marble and clasping hands that looked like they were used to hard work. His face finally showed some interest. “How does this work? This matching thing?”
I grinned. Gotchya!
“First we complete the application process. There was some information missing from your application. We’d need to fill that in. Then we begin the pre-screening process.”
“Pre-screening?”
I nodded, smiling. This was my favorite part. “You spend a minimum of ten hours with a Cupid’s Arrow representative so we can get to know you better, in a dating environment.”
His perfectly shaped lips spread in a smile. “With you?”
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “If you’d like.”
He nodded but didn’t commit.
Ouch, that hurt.
I heard sounds in the basement and looked down. “Is there someone else here?”
He shook his head and opened the refrigerator door. “No, just a pet.”
I liked men with pets, it meant they had a softer side. “What kind of pet do you have?”
He frowned. “It’s a bird.”
“A bird?”
“Can you set the table?”
“Oh…sure.”
We worked in silence for a few moments and I couldn’t help wondering what I was doing there, in that house, with a man I didn’t know, who didn’t appear certain he wanted me there.
A man who kept a bird in his basement.
Then the most incredible smell wafted my way and I turned as Damian Leandar placed a dish from my childhood on the table.
I almost clapped my hands in delight. “You made pastitsio! Oh my gods! And it smells wonderful!”
He narrowed his eyes at me, his intense blue gaze searching my face carefully.
I flushed. I’d probably gone a little overboard with the enthusiasm. “Sorry. I don’t get home cooking much.” I glanced away, toward the ocean outside the wall of windows, in an effort to regain my equilibrium. Something about the way he was looking at me made my toes want to curl.
I was very warm in some really special places.
“Wine?”
I nodded and sat down, folding my hands in my lap like a good schoolgirl. In the short time since I’d met Damian Leandar I’d jettisoned my dignity at least twice. It was so unlike me to play the dunce.
I prided myself on being cool and in control.
My traitorous mind flitted back over my conversations with Peter Leandar and I flushed again, dipping my head to hide behind my hair.
Apparently the entire Leandar family was capable of throwing me off my game.
Damian put two glasses of red wine and a basket of bread down on the table and sat so that he was facing the window. He grabbed my plate and dished up a pretty hefty portion of the gooey creation, a type of Greek lasagna, and set the plate down on the table in front of me.
I waited until he’d scooped some out for himself before digging in.
As the first creamy bite hit my tongue I nearly swooned. “Ohhhhhh. This is incredible. Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
He shrugged. “In my profession I spend a lot of time alone. I get bored.”
The bread was warm and crusty and had a wonderful yeasty flavor. I tried not to moan as I ate.
Damian picked at his food, his dark blue gaze climbing regularly to the sky beyond the windows.
I glanced in that direction and noticed the sky had darkened and a thick bank of nearly black clouds was moving in over the ocean. “Looks like a storm is heading our way.” Okay, being reduced to talking about the weather was the death of any date.
Rule number three in the Cupid’s Arrow pre-screening manual.
But his reaction to the storm was interesting. He’d settled his fork back onto his plate and stared, transfixed into the distance.
Below us, a rhythmic thumping and banging had started up.
It sounded like a damn big bird.
Damian stood. “You’d better go.”
I dropped my fork and stood up. “What is it? What’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s what I do. I’m trained.”
Such a strange thing for him to say. A sculptor, trained to deal with storms. Was he gonna sculpt it?
“I don’t understand…”
He grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the front door.
The banging in the basement was louder now, nearly shaking the walls of the huge house.
I tried to argue as he dragged me toward the door but the storm had gained such intensity that my words were almost entirely lost in the roar of the wind outside.
Damian reached the front door and jerked it open.
What we saw outside made my skin crawl.
The sky was black and roiled with violence.
Trees were bent nearly in half by the aggressive wind and raindrops slashed like knives against our skin.
Debris flashed by so fast and so hard that it was impossible to discern what it was. There was a low keening sound in the tempest that made the hairs stand up on my arms.
It sounded almost human and not at all pleased.
I rubbed my arms and turned to tell Damian I had no intention of going out into that squall when my car suddenly lifted off the ground, spun sideways and headed for the door where we stood.
Damian grabbed me around the waist, flung the door shut and dived into the room with me in his arms.
The car hit the house with a horrendous slam, followed by the groan of settling metal as it slid back down to the ground.
Amazingly, the wall held up against the onslaught, in fact, from my admittedly mostly obscured vantage point of peering out from under Damian’s arm, it ha
d looked, just for a blink in time, as if the wall shimmered upon impact and then went solid again.
I blinked and jabbed Damian’s broad chest with an elbow.
“Lmfb omff be!”
He lowered his lips to my ear, competing against the constant rush and roar of the storm outside. “What did you say?”
I jabbed him again and he lifted off me a few inches.
I pushed myself off the floor, shoving my hair off my face so I could see. “I said, get off me!”
He shot up as if I’d given him an electric shock. “Sorry.” Reaching down, he grabbed one of my hands and pulled me off the floor. “We need to get you out of here.”
I was shaking my head before he finished that thought. “No way am I going out in that. I’m safer in here.”
He frowned, looking around with a trapped look on his face. Finally he nodded. “I guess you’re right. I won’t be able to protect you if you leave.”
My eyebrows went skyward. “Protect me! From what!” There was a definite shrieking tone to my voice. I stopped, cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s just a storm. As long as we stay inside we should be fine, right?”
He frowned at me.
The light in the room had dimmed to the point where I could barely make out his features. What I could see was a very worried—and very sexy—face not too far from mine.
I had a sudden urge to kiss him, just to see what he tasted like. My tongue swept over my lips in anticipation.
Something crashed into the roof and our eyes jerked skyward. He took off toward the kitchen. “Stay here!”
Having never been very good at taking orders, I shook off the strangely timed lust and ran after him.
I found him standing in front of the glass, his arms raised above his head, palms open and facing outward.
“Damian?”
Nothing. He seemed totally oblivious to my presence. I walked over and looked into his face.
He was beautiful. His skin looked silver in the intermittent flashing of the lightning outside. The lines of his wide face had sharpened somehow and looked less malleable.
He looked less human and more…like a beautiful sculpture.
I waved a hand in front of his face. “Yoo-hoo.”
He didn’t even blink.
His eyes were wide and fixed on a spot outside the glass.
