Veiled Seduction: Veiled, Book 2

by Alisha Rai

  “Oh good. You’ve been here before.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I appreciate…whatever the sentiment is here. But I’m really not in the mood to learn about dinosaurs and magnets.”

  “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy.” She leaned into the backseat and pulled out a red baseball cap. “Here. Put this on. It’s the middle of the day on a school day, so it should be fairly clear in there. We won’t have to worry about someone stopping you for an autograph or something.”

  Ugh. Just the thought made him want to be sick. Some of what he was feeling must have shown in his expression, because her face went soft with sympathy. “I’m sorry. Just put it on and come with me.”

  She dropped the cap in his lap and got out of the car, shutting the door behind her. He kind of wanted to sit inside the car to protest this ridiculous excursion. Only the fact that it would make him look like an infant had him following her. “Maira…”

  “Come on!”

  She was already several feet ahead of him. He caught up with her at the ticket agent just as she showed the woman her membership card. He jammed his hands into his pockets and trailed after her. She walked down the hall and to the right.

  “Figures you have a membership here,” he muttered. “I bet you were a science geek, weren’t you?”

  “Huge,” she agreed cheerfully. “I got gold in the state Science Olympiad two years in a row in high school.”

  “Wow, the whole span of your high school career,” he guessed sarcastically.

  “Yup.”

  Fuck a duck. It was no fun needling her if she wasn’t going to respond right. He followed after her through a pair of double doors. And then stopped.

  “Planetarium?” he asked dubiously as he looked around the dome-shaped room.

  “Yes. Come sit down. The show starts in two minutes.” She sat in the middle row. The rest of the place was empty, no doubt because it was indeed a school day.

  He remained standing. “Maira…”

  She cast him an entreating look. Sonofabitch, she could give Ash lessons. “Please?” She patted the seat next to her.

  He capitulated, but not gracefully, lumbering over to sit next to her in the seat she’d indicated. He sat back in the chair and looked up at the blank blue screen of the dome. “Why are we here?”

  “When I was in high school, I wasn’t just the youngest kid in the Science Club. I was the only girl. At the Olympiad, the other guys tried to get me to take the astronomy category. I loved star gazing but I didn’t want it.”

  Intrigued despite himself, he found himself asking, “Why?”

  “Because astronomy at that level is all math and equations.” The lights in the theater dimmed to darkness, and the screen came to life with a nighttime sky. Music piped into the room, what he usually thought of as New Age/Enya. She tipped her head back as stars popped out one by one. “That isn’t what I liked about the stars. I liked to look at them when I went on nighttime walks with my dad and listen to him tell me stories about each one.”

  A soft, soothing female voice filled the room as the constellations were highlighted. Sasha found himself relaxing into the reclining chair, tipping his head back to match Maira’s pose.

  “I was just a teenager when I started med school, you know,” she continued in a hushed whisper. “Everyone thought I was so aloof and robotic, but it was mostly because I was nervous. When I lost my first patient, I didn’t really have any peers to turn to who would understand. My parents never really knew what to do with me. My big sister was living it up in college.”

  Sasha frowned. Holy shit. Of course he knew her story, knew how insanely young she had been, but he’d never really thought of the implications of someone that age taking on such a serious, life-or-death profession. His hand slipped into hers.

  She squeezed it. “I went to a planetarium like this one and watched the stars. It made me feel better.”

  He waited, but she didn’t offer any more. It took him a few minutes to understand that she didn’t need to. It was really simple, he thought. No particular fancy reasoning, no deep explanation. The stars made her happy.

  They were making him feel better too, some of the darkness that had fallen over his soul lifting. Maybe it was her, though, and not the stars.

  “Reid wasn’t my patient,” he whispered.

  “No. But you’ve never had to kill anyone, have you?”

  He shook his head. “But it was justified.”

  “Yes.”

  “Better him than those kids.”

  “Absolutely. It’s hard to be responsible for someone’s life like that.” She lifted his hand to her lips and brushed a light kiss over it. “He was my patient, you know. Not now, but when he came through the E.R., I stabilized him. Even knowing what he did, I can still mourn the loss of a life. The waste of it.”

  “When I shot him, I didn’t intend to kill him. I wanted him to suffer yes, but I wanted him to suffer through incarceration and trial and sentencing. I wanted him to face his victims. I didn’t—I didn’t intend to kill him.”

  “I know.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re tired. The last thing you probably wanted to do was prop me up.”

  She continued to stare at the ceiling. “You said…you said that we were starting a relationship.”

  “Yes.”

  “Part of a relationship is taking the good with the bad,” she said simply. “You have to be realistic. No one’s life is all romantic dinners and walks on the beach.”

  “Yeah,” he murmured slowly.

  “Though to be honest? Don’t really see the bad here. I love this place, and I like sharing it with you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  He rested his head on top of hers. “I start counseling. Tomorrow.”

  Her voice sounded a little sleepy. “That’s a good thing.”

  “Yeah.” He watched the Milky Way swirl. “I want to come here with you again.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Yes. He’d like that too.

  Chapter Eight

  “I thought we were going to go out tonight?”

  Sasha cast her a surprised glance as she followed him into her kitchen. “Did you want to?”

  Maira shrugged. In all honesty, she was coming off a rough week at the hospital, so not really. “When you said a movie, I just assumed.”

  “I picked up a DVD.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hey, if you want to go out to a movie, we can.”

  “No,” she said, feeling foolish. “I’m just a little restless, that’s all. Don’t mind me.” Restless and antsy. What was up with her? She pulled a new bottle of chardonnay from the fridge, thankful that she’d had the foresight to chill it earlier.

  “Need a hand?”

  “Nope.”

  She should have wanted to stay in with him. In the two weeks since their trip to the planetarium, thanks to her crazy schedule, they’d only had a handful of dates together. She loved them, they were fun. Magical, even, if she wanted to get Disney Princess about it.

  But, but, but…

  He never went beyond a kiss at the end of the night.

  You should be grateful. Your mother probably got down on her knees when you were a child and prayed her daughters would end up with a man like this.

  The problem was, she wasn’t her mother. She was young and ripe for the plucking. Pluck me, damn you.

  Stop. Better to take things slow and…

  Oh shut up, you stupid prissy bitch.

  Her conscience silenced on a huff.

  It would be easier, she thought, if they were out in public somewhere. Then maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with all of this seething sexual tension and romantic gestures with little-to-no buffers. “On second thought, why don’t we go out?”

  He pulled two wineglasses from her cupboard and placed them on the counter next to her. “But I got the movie.”
/>
  “We can watch it tomorrow.”

  He seemed to hesitate again, watching as she poured. “Dessert. I got your favorite dessert from Luigi’s.”

  “Heck, that’s an even better reason to go out. You don’t need to see my thighs inflate from that.”

  “I don’t know why you think cheesecake wrapped in a fried tortilla would make you gain weight. Besides it’s for us to share. That makes the calories fall in the negative.”

  “I think that’s some shoddy science there, Karimi.”

  “We’ll eat it and step on the scale tomorrow, how’s that?”

  She cocked her head and took a sip of the wine. “Why don’t you want to go out?”

  A dull flush crept up his cheeks. “It gets a little tiring to be recognized, and I can only wear a hat so much.”

  “You’re still being hassled?” It had been almost a month since the shooting. With Reid’s death and the children and teacher’s survival, she’d figured most of the media spotlight would fade.

  “It’s mostly local people now. My ten-minute grocery-store trip last weekend took a solid hour. And I’m still racking up at least a phone call a day from some producer or author or reporter.”

  “Newsflash,” she said dryly. “They’re always going to recognize you. This town isn’t humongous. You’re their hometown hero.”

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable as he always did when the subject came up. “Whatever.”

  Something clicked. “That’s why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why you’re so hesitant to go out around town. It embarrasses you.”

  “Wouldn’t it embarrass you too?”

  “Well, of course it would. But I’m me. And you’re you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. “You should just do an interview and get it over with. Give the people what they want, so to speak. It might actually help.”

  “That’s what Mason said.”

  “And?”

  He shuddered. “I can’t think of anything I’d hate more.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Do I have to have a reason?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “I mean, I just don’t want the attention.”

  “I always thought you were very at ease with attention.”

  He stared at her, a bit perturbed. “You think I’m an attention seeker?”

  She gave a wry smile. “Of course not. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to deal with someone staring at me since I was five-eleven at thirteen so I’m sensitive to those who are more extroverted.”

  He was an extrovert. Sometimes. Or at least he pretended to be. “Ah, thanks.”

  “In any case, you don’t have to tell me. It’s cool.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Okay.”

  He watched as she got the plates from the cupboard and withdrew forks from the drawer. She pulled out the Styrofoam box from inside the brown takeout bag.

  He folded his arms over his chest. Leaned against the counter. Jiggled his foot.

  Damn it. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

  She stopped what she was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look up at him. “What?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “What is?”

  “My issue.”

  “I won’t laugh.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “I promise. Unless it’s a deep-seated phobia of camera shutters. ’Cause you have to admit, that’s kind of funny.”

  He laughed despite himself. “It’s not that.”

  “You don’t think they’ll catch your good side.”

  “I have a good side?”

  She snorted and moved in closer. “Don’t be vain. All your sides are good. Spill.”

  He rolled his shoulders, an uncomfortable heat rising in his face. “I don’t like big crowds. I’m not good at handling them.”

  Her hand coasted over his arm. “Really? Neither am I, actually. People in general make me feel shy, but when there’s lots of them, I feel like everyone’s pressing in on me.”

  He nodded, relieved. “Yeah. Like that.”

  “Like I said before, I’m surprised. You seem so at ease around people.”

  Sasha rubbed his jaw. “I’m okay around small groups.”

  “Why would you think I would laugh at you?”

  “Because of why I hate them.” His lips twisted. “When I was a kid, I had a lot of speech problems. Delays in development, stuttering. It took a lot of therapy before I could control it. Avoiding triggers like stressful social situations was the best thing I ever learned to do.”

  The light dawned in her eyes. “So you’re worried that if you do an interview or get around a big group of people, you’ll get too nervous…”

  “And regress and stutter all over the place.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Some hero, huh?”

  A long minute passed. He finally looked up to find her steady brown gaze right on him. “A hero isn’t defined by how he talks, Sasha, but by the actions he does. You saved a school full of children. You could go on TV with tinfoil on your head, and nobody would think any different of you.”

  “Real men don’t have deficiencies. They certainly don’t get tongue-tied to the point of being unable to get a word out without tripping over it. I can’t tell you how many times I heard my dad tell me that.”

  She scoffed. “That’s hogwash. The majority of children with speech delays and stutters are males, not females.”

  “My father was enlightened in a lot of ways. In others, he was about as old school as they came.”

  “Awww.” She hugged him. “Trust me, I know all about old-school parents. You know why you’ve never met mine, even when they come into town?”

  Maira had let some stories of her traditional parents slip over the years, so he’d had an inkling they wouldn’t be thrilled to meet some guy hanging around their daughter, but he hadn’t wanted to pry. “Why?”

  “Because they assume if I’m introducing them to a man, we’re shortly going to be engaged.”

  He grinned. “That old school, huh?”

  “You have no idea.” She kissed him, right on the corner of his mouth. “You aren’t being silly. You’re the finest man I’ve ever met, Sasha. And I know wherever your father is, he would be just bursting with pride over what you did.”

  He should have known she’d understand. They had been raised in similar cultures, and parent pleasing had been drummed into her as well. “Thanks.”

  “If the phone calls bother you, you should consider doing an interview, maybe a small one. It would get the others off your back if you made it clear it was an exclusive. If they don’t…” She shrugged. “Fuck ’em.”

  He grinned. Listening to Maira swear was always interesting. “Indeed.”

  “It’s not like they don’t have a dearth of your so-called close friends to interview about you. When you were in the hospital, I saw your third-grade teacher talking about how she always knew you were a hero.”

  He grimaced. “Ms. Rossi? That woman used to make me sit out more recesses than I got to actually play.”

  Her look was teasing. “And I’m sure you didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

  “Of course not. Mason was the troublemaker. I was just the one who got caught.” He eased back, mostly because the scent of her was going straight to his groin. “Sorry. I really don’t know how we keep turning our dates into therapy hour. Where do you want to go?”

  “My couch.”

  Pure affection shot through him. “Sure?”

  “Yep. What movie did you get?”

  “It’s in the bag.” Dessert and a movie had seemed like a genius plan earlier in the day. Now he wondered if he’d be able to sit next to her on the couch for two hours without ripping her clothes off.

  Well, they could do a little bit of necking, go to the next level just a bit. A movie, a few kisses, that was acceptable.

  “Oh, this mo
vie. The movie I wanted to see six months ago, when you argued me out of it in favor of the movie you wanted to see.”

  He grinned at her dry-as-dust tone. “But we can see it now. It just came out on DVD yesterday.” When he’d seen the romantic comedy at the video store, he’d been struck by guilt and regret, by the morbid thought that had he not been wearing his vest, he may have died without ever seeing this movie with Maira.

  He could care less about love triangles and ensuing hijinks. But Maira would have enjoyed it, and he should have gotten some pleasure out of watching it with her for no other reason than that. Hence, the ultimate sacrifice tonight, otherwise known as a chick flick. He only hoped she appreciated what he was doing.

  “No man alive would say something like that.”

  Maira knew that Sasha had no idea why she so loved to watch chick flicks with him. She didn’t particularly care for the actual movie. It was his running commentary of incredulous scoffing and joking throughout.

  “Pansy.”

  Most people probably didn’t like talking during their movies, but since she had trouble sitting still for two hours at a time to begin with, it made the whole thing much more interactive and fun.

  “Why do women always have to remove their glasses when they get a makeover?”

  “I don’t know,” she said mildly.

  “It’s stupid.” He lifted a bite of the cheesecake dessert to her mouth, adding just the amount of ice cream that she liked. “Glasses aren’t an automatic turnoff to men.”

  “Hmmm.” Why had she wanted to go out again? This sitting close together and sharing-the-dessert bit was pure freakin’ genius. She accepted the bite he offered and savored the taste. Since the deep-fried cheesecake—God bless America—was enormous, they’d shared it before. But never on the same plate. With the same spoon. She didn’t just taste the luscious dessert, she tasted him on the silverware as well, and it was wonderful.

  Intimate. Yes, the whole night had been intimate. She cast him a sideways glance as he removed the spoon from her mouth. Maybe tonight…maybe tonight she could take advantage of this intimate setting, show him she was ready for more.