But it was made infinitely better because of Garrett and Roman by her side. Sides.
She smiled at her own pathetically small joke and that was when a camera flashed in her face.
“Kate! Kate!”
She halted and turned to look into the lights, still smiling. It had begun.
Garrett and Roman stepped in close next to her. Neither of them let go of her hands.
The first few questions were routine. Who did her hair? Her make-up. Her dress. Where was her jewellery from? Who was she supporting tonight? She was pleased to be able to mention Elizabeth Bentley and her role in her movie and also to mention the role Elizabeth had taken in the television show that had snagged her the nomination tonight.
There were a few repeats of the basic questions as Kate drifted gently up the length of the gallery and for a moment, she thought they were going to get away without having to answer any point-blank personal questions.
“Kate! Is it true the Academy invited you and both your boyfriends on the same invitation?”
Her smile froze in place. Garrett’s hand tightened around hers.
“‘Boyfriend’ is such a juvenile world, don’t you think?” she shot back.
“You have a better word?”
“What’s wrong with ‘lover’?” she asked.
There was a stunned silence, where nothing but the sound of shutters and electronic whirring could be heard.
Kate glanced quickly from the corner of her eye at Roman. He was smiling hugely. He was enjoying himself, although his eyes were half-shut against the toxic light.
Another voice emerged from the wall of light. A female voice. “Kate, are you living with both your lovers? Are you, in fact, living in a ménage with them?”
“Who’s asking?” Kate asked. “I feel like I know the voice, but I can’t quite…”
“It’s Sue Myers, Kate. Hollywood Flipside.”
“Oh, hi, Sue. I can’t answer your question for the simple reason that I’ve been living in a trailer for the last ten weeks, while I’ve been filming Warrior King. Even I haven’t been living with me. But if I was going to live in a ménage arrangement, I couldn’t think of two better men to do it with. Thanks, everyone.”
As the cameras fired off another staccato, she tugged Roman and Garrett into motion and moved the last few feet, out of the press gallery lights, into the cooler, shaded carpet area.
Roman and Garrett closed in around her, blinking and rubbing their eyes. “Not a moment too soon,” Roman murmured.
“I smell a rat,” Garrett said. “That Sue who tossed you that perfect opening. I’ve never heard of a Hollywood Flipside and I’ve been reading all the movie trades for weeks now.”
Kate smiled. “That’s because there’s no such publication. ‘Sue’ was a code. That was Suzette, my issues director. We planned that question and answer, days ago.”
Garrett kissed her. “That’s my smart little director.”
And another barrage of cameras went off.
“Oops,” Roman said and laughed.
Another escort hurried over. “Ms. Lindenstream. I have Erica Johnston from the L.A. Times Entertainment section over here. She would like three minutes of your time.” The escort indicated with a wave of her hand.
Kate sighed. “Almost over,” she said and followed the escort across the carpet to where a woman in a plain black, unadorned evening gown stood with an electronic recording device and pad and pencil.
Roman and Garrett stepped up alongside her. “Moral support,” Garrett murmured.
“Fuck that,” Roman shot back. “Support of the most immoral kind possible.”
Kate was smiling when she reached the journalist. The smile lingered throughout the interview and Erica Johnston was a ball-breaker of the worst sort. Kate couldn’t remember a single question afterwards, either. All she could remember was Roman’s fingers on her bare back and Garrett’s hip touching hers.
Even Johnston seemed flustered by their presence. She stammered more than once and said ‘sorry’ a lot.
By the time they went into the theatre and were escorted to their seats – tenth row and dead centre where the cameras would catch them constantly – Kate was feeling more than a little removed from the proceedings. Her mind was in a swirl of confused, half-formed hazy ideas.
It was a good thing they had cues telling them when to applaud, because she had trouble paying attention.
She kept flipping back to Roman’s off-hand comment about Garrett slipping back into Gaelic when he was aroused. Of course Roman would know that because they had been lovers once. He had told her that and she had absorbed the fact like something written in an encyclopaedia. A piece of information she had filed away.
But Roman’s comment tonight had given shape to it. Fleshed it out and brought it alive. They had been lovers. They had kissed and touched. Made love. They knew each others’ bodies the way Roman knew hers. The way Garrett touched hers. Of course Roman knew Garrett whispered Gaelic in the deep throes of passion. He had been one to whom Garrett had whispered it.
She couldn’t stop circling that idea like a buzzard over fresh kill. The images swiftly grew more specific and detailed as she wondered what it had been like for them. Why had they parted?
Toward the end of the awards, she realized with a start that she had paid virtually no attention to the last half of the show at all. And she was deeply and powerfully aroused.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to take one of them home and ease this terrible craving. But first, they had to go through the dinner party at Lex & Louis’ that Elizabeth was hosting in Kate’s honour.
Chapter Thirty-One
Elizabeth had rented the entire restaurant, making the dinner a private party for three hundred guests. Most of the cast and crew for the movie were there, including Patrick Sauvage and the leads and other cast who had already hit their wrap dates.
The paparazzi had got wind of the event and were ambushing everyone as they walked in. But it was a minor irritation after the press gallery at the Kodiak Theatre and Kate walked past with a smile on her face and no comment, holding Roman and Garrett’s hands openly and with pride.
Elizabeth, clutching her Emmy, was glowing with pleasure as she greeted everyone at the door. She hugged Kate, Roman and Garrett fiercely and escorted them to a big round buffet table. “I saw your press gallery interview,” she whispered to Kate. “I’m so proud of your courage.” She let her eyes flicker toward Roman and Garrett as they pulled the table out for Kate. “And I hate your guts. Two of them? Life just isn’t fair!” She sighed. “Enjoy the meal!” She hurried away, waving her Emmy statuette, the winged angel glinting in the overhead pot lights.
* * * * *
Surprisingly ravenous, Kate ate a lot of the pretty decent chicken meal that was served. Garrett and Roman amused her by cutting up everything on their plates and moving it around, then transferring pieces of it over to hers. By the time they were done, it looked as though they had eaten some of it, but it was hard to tell just how much.
“I guess you’ve had a while to figure out stuff like that,” she said, as they pushed their plates aside.
Garrett poured half his glass of champagne into the palm tree next to him, then topped up her glass with most of what was left. Roman pushed his glass aside. “That’s your second glass,” he said. Then he leaned on the table, his head on his hand. “You weren’t paying much attention to the awards, Kate.”
Garrett turned his head sharply to look at Roman. He glanced around the restaurant. It was noisy as only a private party could be, with table hopping, alcohol and creative types mixed and stirred. There was music playing, but it was utterly drowned by the ambient sound levels.
Garrett settled against the cushioned back of the buffet. Because of the curve, it meant he was looking at Kate, too.
She pushed her plate away, her appetite suddenly gone. “You noticed?”
“Hard to miss,” Roman assured her. “Humans might have missed it. Bu
t for us, it was dead easy to spot.”
“Spot?” she asked.
Garrett brushed a fine, loose lock of hair from her shoulder. “You were aroused, Kate. Your pulse was elevated, your temperature, too. And your eyes were dilated.”
“And you were breathing faster. Much faster. Although you were keeping it hidden.” Roman gave a little shrug. “Hidden from anyone but us.”
Kate gripped her glass, like a security blanket. “What’s with the ‘us’? You two have been at each other’s throat for weeks because of me. Now you’re suddenly using plural pronouns.”
“Jumping to the attack like that is a complete tell,” Roman replied. “And you’re avoiding my question.”
Garrett leaned close, so his lips were by her cheek. “Your heart is racing again.”
“And it just jumped,” Roman added.
“Goddam it,” Kate exploded. “It’s not fair you being able to hear everything!” She took a big gulp of her wine. “Just how good is your hearing, anyway?”
“No one has ever tested it.” Garrett shrugged as he leaned back again. “It’s probably different for all of us. And there’s smell, too. We’re hunters, Kate. All our senses are strong.”
She shivered and took another sip of her champagne. Then nearly choked on it as a hand stroked her knee.
She could tell by the length and size of the fingers and the shape of the hand – and simply by the way he was touching her, that it was Roman.
Garrett was the one who smiled, though. “Knee?”
“Mmm,” Roman agreed. “Just on the inside. Silky soft.”
“I’ve wanted to stoke there all night. Every time I’ve seen her walking towards me and flashing her knees,” Garrett said.
“Oh my god,” Kate breathed. She was abruptly back to the same fevered state she had been in at the theatre. But now it had little to do with Roman and Garrett’s former affair and everything to do with their cooperative seduction now.
She could see exactly where this was heading. Now was the time to halt it. She had to say ‘stop’ now if she really wanted it to stop.
They were both looking at her, almost reading her mind. Roman’s hand was gently stroking. Not raising higher, not pressuring. Simply offering. This was up to her.
She couldn’t find her voice.
Roman wiped condensation from the side of her glass with his spare hand. “So what were you thinking about at the theatre that got you so wound up, Kate?”
She swallowed. Truth time. “You. And Garrett. Together.”
Roman’s hands paused. Both of them, just for a second. He looked at Garrett.
Garrett stirred. “There’s someone you should meet.” He looked around the restaurant. “Winter.” He didn’t lift his voice particularly high. “Come and meet Kate. As Winter.” Then he listened. And nodded.
“She’ll be right here,” he told Kate.
Kate frowned. “Another vampire?” The woman had been able to hear Garrett easily from across a crowded, noisy room.
“No. Winter is very special. Until a few weeks ago, she thought she was human, like you.” Garrett looked up. “You know her as Annette, my assistant. Here she is.”
Annette walked up to the table, but she looked very little like the Annette Kate had got used to.
She was quite stunning, with sea green eyes and a mane of red hair that put Garrett’s to shame.
“Are you related?” Kate asked Garrett.
He smiled. “I can see why you’d think so, but no. Winter, have a seat for a minute.”
Winter sat down. She smiled at Kate. “I’ve been working as ‘Annette’ – Garrett’s assistant — to help him out while he was on your set. He couldn’t keep Boston going by remote control without the assistance.”
Garrett shook his head. “Not exactly true, but close enough for now. Winter, I brought you over to explain your marriage.”
Winter’s smile softened and grew warmer. She laid both her hands on the tablecloth, palms down. “Which husband do you want me to start with?”
Kate looked at her hands. There were two rings, one on each third finger. The one on the right looked like a normal wedding band, with green stones set in it. The one on the left was a Claddagh ring, the crown pointing toward Winter. It looked very old, though. It was a solid band with the crown, heart and hands carved into it, not a modern Claddagh with the designs shaped into the ring itself.
Kate looked at Winter again, reassessing. The woman was normal, sane. Gorgeous. There wasn’t anything even remotely hippy about her. “Two husbands?” Kate clarified.
Winter nodded. “You know them, too. They’re working on your set under other names. Terry the computer guy and David, Patrick’s handler. They look a bit different, normally. Sebastian and Nial are their real names.”
Kate realized she was squeezing her glass and loosened her grip. She knew the men Winter had named. She had noticed them around. They were both physically in great shape, but she had barely spoken to either of them. “You married them both?” Kate repeated.
Winter gave her a warm smile. Even her eyes held warmth. “We’re all married,” she qualified. “Nial and Sebastian were together for centuries before they met me.”
It was only Roman’s steadying hand on her glass that stopped the champagne from spilling across the table, as Kate physically jumped, like she had been goosed.
Winter gave a small laugh. “These two set you up, didn’t they?” She reached out and picked up Kate’s hand. “They’re not being mean. They’re letting you choose.”
Kate stared at her. All her fear was draining away. She could feel herself relaxing. “Are you…doing something to me?”
Winter nodded. “I’m helping you to relax. It’s better than alcohol. No hangover.”
“That’s what you are?” Kate whispered.
“I’m a Curandero,” Winter told her. “I heal with my touch.” She winked. “Among other things.” She looked into Kate’s eyes. “You need to decide what you want and take it. But I think you already know what you want, don’t you? The only thing holding you back is fear of being judged — and found wanting. The great Hollywood disease.” She put Kate’s hand back on the table. “Tonight you took a massive step toward junking that. I watched it on Entertainment Tonight. It was great, by the way.” She stood up. “These two hooligans brush up presentably well, too.” She pulled all her hair back into one hand. “I guess I just got fired. I’m going to go clear out the trailer and move back to my hotel. And finally take a decent shower. Nial has been hogging room service there since Patrick wrapped up. Night, everyone.”
She walked away, while Kate pushed the champagne aside. Whatever Winter had done to her was perfect. She was relaxed, alert, alive and tingling all over. The last thing she wanted to do was deaden the effect with mind-numbing alcohol.
Garrett was studying her. So was Roman.
“You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” she accused.
“Winter was an improvisation,” Garrett confessed.
“But this, right now. Ganging up on me.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Garrett replied.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“We didn’t sit down and hash it out,” Roman assured her. His fingers were back to stroking the inside of her knee. “But we’ve known each other a long time, Kate. We can guess what each other is thinking, pretty well.”
“So you’re typical guys. Even after six freaking centuries, you still can’t talk about yucky stuff.” She shook her head. “Men……”
Roman grinned. “It saves time,” he pointed out. He nodded toward Garrett. “But if you want sentimental pap, consult the poet there. He’ll talk your head off.”
“Do you believe him, Kate?” Garrett asked.
“Not for a second.” She considered Roman more carefully. “You’re the one that screwed it up, aren’t you? You’re the one that pushed Garrett away because you couldn’t handle your feelings.”
Roman straightened
up. His hand was removed from her knee and the absorbed, happy expression fled from his face. He started to move away from her and Kate realized he was leaving. Just like that.
She drew in a breath that hitched in fright. The sudden sharp turn in mood and events was terrifying. Roman had shifted to angry that fast.
Garrett was faster. His big hand slapped down on Roman’s arm and anchored it on the table, keeping Roman on the seat next to Kate.
“Don’t you dare,” Garrett breathed. “Don’t you fucking dare walk out on her.”
Roman froze halfway on the seat, a furious mass of muscle and sinews. He looked ready to lash out at anything. His gaze darted everywhere and his chest rose and fell rapidly. His hand under Garrett’s grip was tightly fisted. There was a deep furrow etched between his brows.
“Look at her,” Garrett commanded. His voice was low. “Talk to her, or ye stand to lose everything ye ever wanted.” He leaned forward, across the table and his jaw rippled. “Do it, Roman, or by christ I’ll cut ye loose meself and call ye a sack well lost. I’m sick of crying over the hurts ye hand out. Do ye hear me?” His brogue was mild, but the idiom was rich and Garrett’s anger undeniable.
Roman closed his eyes. For long seconds he hesitated and Kate could see him struggling to speak. Finally, he gasped, “Mary was my fault.”
Garrett fell back, and even Kate drew in a shocked breath.
Roman surged forward and grabbed Garrett’s shirt front and pulled him close. Kate was wedged between them, a witness to every word. “Mary wanted to talk to me the day before we rode to London, but I put her off. I didn’t want to deal with her. She was so radiantly in love I knew all she would want to talk about was you. She was fretting with the need to tell someone and I was safe. But I told her I was too busy.” He let Garrett go and sat back. “If I had just listened. That’s all she needed. Then she wouldn’t have told her bloody sister….” He hung his head.
“You’ve held onto that for four hundred and fifty years?” Kate asked, appalled.
“He did more than that,” Garrett said.
Blood Stone Page 36
