by I. T. Lucas
Turner nodded. "I can be if I want to, but why bother? Fortunately, in my line of business, charm is not a requirement. People expect me to be ruthless and accept my lack of personality."
Bridget pulled into her parking spot and cut the engine. "You hide it behind an indifferent façade, but you have a rich personality."
Turner opened the passenger door and carefully swung his legs out. "Are you sure about that? My wide range of knowledge makes me interesting to talk to. I might be an empty vessel on the inside."
She ignored his self-deprecating comment. He was just fishing for compliments. Grabbing the pillow from the passenger seat, she got out and closed the door.
"Aren't you going to lock it?" Turner asked.
"We are in the clan's private parking garage. No one is going to steal it."
Bridget walked around to where he was waiting for her and took his hand. "Our brains are highly adaptive." She led him toward the elevators. "If you spend most of your time and focus solving complicated problems, then that's what your brain specializes in. Accomplishing mastery in one subject often diminishes other capabilities. In your case, your social and emotional development has been sacrificed on the altar of your analytical genius."
With a frown, Turner followed her inside the elevator. "That's an interesting way to put it. Are you saying that there is nothing wrong with me?"
Bridget stretched up and kissed his cheek, then leaned against the elevator's wall and crossed her arms over her chest. "People make judgments about other people by comparing them to some accepted standard average which they consider the norm. The thing is, no one fits that mold."
She opened the door to her apartment and motioned for Turner to get in. "Most people, humans and immortals alike, cluster around that center. The further one deviates from that cluster, the stranger he or she seems to others. That doesn't mean there is anything wrong with them. Take every genius in any field, put them on that spectrum, and you'll find that they are very far from the center."
Turner shuffled to the couch and sat down gingerly. Bridget put the soft pillow behind his back, and he leaned against it with a sigh. "I hope this will get better by tomorrow."
"You should have taken the painkillers instead of playing macho."
"It's not about machismo. Pain medications dull my thinking. I can't stand it. I'd rather suffer the pain than the mental haze."
She smiled. "You see? You've just proven my point. You are willing to sacrifice physical comfort just so you can think clearly."
"Thank you for the positive spin, but the fact remains that I'm odd and incapable of forming relationships with others."
Bridget pulled two cans of ginger ale from the fridge and handed him one. "I admit that it would be difficult for you, but it's not impossible."
Turner popped the lid and took a sip. "I don't see how. I have a hard time relating to what others are feeling, and I have very little empathy."
She sat next to him. "But you recognize and understand feelings, that's your coping mechanism. You can adapt your behavior accordingly."
He lifted a brow. "Are you suggesting that I fake it?"
"Sometimes faking it is half the journey. When you force a smile, it affects your brain, and your mood improves."
"No one can fake love."
Bridget shrugged. "Romantic love is overrated."
He took another sip from his can. "You're probably the only woman on the planet who thinks like that."
"That's because I'm also an analytical creature. Maybe not as extreme as you are, but somewhere on that spectrum. Give me a smart and reliable man who I can have an intelligent conversation with, and I'll take him over one who is ruled by his emotions any day and twice on Sunday."
"What about passion?"
She smirked. "You mean sex?"
"Yes."
"That's important too. But love is not a prerequisite for amazing sex." She smirked. "I think we've proven that already."
As Turner's sweatpants tented, he grabbed a decorative pillow to cover his reaction. "That we did."
His embarrassment was endearing.
Bridget tugged on the pillow. "Don't hide from me. I love seeing the effect I have on you."
Shaking his head, he let her take the pillow away. "You're unlike any woman I've ever encountered."
"Thank you. I like being different."
Putting her hand on his inner thigh, Bridget leaned toward him, but when she was a fraction of an inch from making contact with his lips, a knock on the door halted her progress. "Damn it. What timing."
Turner grabbed the pillow she'd tossed away and put it back in his lap. "We could ignore it."
With a sigh, Bridget pushed to her feet. "I know my family. Whoever is out there will just keep knocking."
A more insistent knock proved it.
"Coming!" Bridget walked over to the door and pulled it open. "Come in, guys." She let Kian and the brothers in.
Kian walked over to Turner and offered him his hand. "We thought you were a goner. I'm glad you're still with us."
"Me too."
Kian took a seat across from Turner and crossed his legs at the ankles. "What happened? For you to get ambushed like that it must've been one hell of a setup."
"Don't worry. The breach in security wasn't mine. They were smart and infiltrated my client's network, but in the final analysis it was my fault. I got a message from my client to meet him at a restaurant, and I didn't call back to verify it was him. They used a very good actor to mimic his voice."
"Are you sure it wasn't your client who set you up?"
"Positive. We have a long-standing business relationship, and I just completed a successful extraction of a family member for him. Whoever did it, wanted to send my client a message. The only way they could find out who I was and how to contact me was by getting into his email or phone communications. Not an easy task, since the guy employs the best protocols. They must have a very good hacker."
"We have an excellent one too," Brundar said. "Maybe we can have him snoop around and find out who did it. The community of super-hackers is small. They probably all know of each other."
Turner shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline. My clients trust me to keep their identities and my connections to them confidential. Once I get on my feet again, so to speak, I'll investigate this myself."
"Anything we can help with, just say the word," Kian offered.
"In fact, there is one thing. The homeless guy who drove me to the hospital. I would like to find him to thank him and reward him."
"If you know where they dumped you, we can have our guy check for surveillance cameras in the area and go over the footage. But I doubt he would find anything. Last night, he already went through every possible camera in the area."
"On second thoughts, that's too much effort. I'll take care of it myself."
Kian nodded. "As you wish. If my guy can find your man in under two hours of work, then I wouldn't mind him giving it another go. But I wouldn't put more resources into the search."
"Thank you. That's more than generous. But I think I can handle it on my own. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. As it is, I owe you guys a debt of gratitude."
Kian waved a hand. "Forget about it. That's what friends are for. I'm sure you would've come searching for me if the roles were reversed."
Turner chuckled. "Only if I were paid for it."
Bridget wasn't sure he'd meant it as a joke. She was about to poke him for it when another knock sounded.
"That must be Okidu." Kian stood up and walked over to the door. "I asked him to bring refreshments."
Chapter 45: Bridget
Shortly after Kian and the brothers' departure, Andrew arrived with his wife and baby girl. Thankfully, the little happy family didn't stay for long.
It had been a surprisingly awkward half an hour.
Bridget seldom thought about her short fling with Andrew, and yet she could think of nothing else as he and
Turner had engaged in polite verbal sparring.
Was it because of her?
Not that she had any illusions about Andrew having any lingering feelings for her, but the guy was highly competitive and seeing her with Turner might have triggered a reflexive need to gain the upper hand.
Or perhaps it was all in her head, and that was how things had always been between these two. There was no love lost between them, but there was respect.
Closing the door behind them, Bridget let out a relieved breath. "I hope those were the last visitors for the day. I feel like putting a do-not-disturb sign on the door."
Turner got to his feet and walked over to her. "Did I do a good job pretending I enjoyed the attention?" He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his hard body.
She put a hand on his chest where his heart was beating at the same steady rhythm it always did. "You've done admirably. In fact, you're so good at pretending that it's impossible to know what you're really thinking or feeling. It's disconcerting, especially for an immortal like me who is used to reading humans effortlessly."
He leaned and kissed her lightly on the lips, just a peck as if to lessen the sting of what he said next. "You're pretty good at pretending too, but you didn't fool me or Andrew's wife. It was quite obvious that you and he had a thing at some point."
For an emotionally stunted man, Turner was an incredibly keen observer.
"Nathalie knows all about it." Bridget chuckled. "He dumped me for her."
"Then he is a fool. Nathalie is lovely, but she can't hold a candle to you."
"Thank you for the flattery, but even if it were true, it's irrelevant. She is his fated truelove mate. He would've forsaken the most beautiful woman on the planet for her, which he kind of did. Andrew had a crush on Kian's sister."
"The professor?" Turner lifted an eyebrow. "She is indeed beautiful, if one is into the slim, tall type. I guess she felt he wasn't good enough for her."
Bridget wasn't sure whether the condescending note in Turner's tone was directed at Amanda for snubbing Andrew, or at Andrew for daring to covet the princess.
"Amanda found her truelove mate shortly after meeting Andrew. Just like I didn't stand a chance with him, Andrew didn't with Amanda. That's just the way it is."
"Coming from you, I'm surprised at all that talk about true love."
How to explain the inexplicable? As a scientist, she should have dismissed it the same as Turner had, but she'd seen enough evidence to convince her that it was real. Unless, the belief in true love created a placebo effect, and infatuation or plain and simple love was interpreted as the unshakable bond of truelove mates.
Except, Dalhu didn't strike her as the type of guy who believed in love. Until his chance encounter with Amanda, he'd been bitter and disillusioned, and yet the bond between them was just as ironclad as that of the other fated couples. If it happened to the hardened ex-Doomer, it must've been the real deal.
"Come." She took Victor's hand and led him down the corridor. "I want you to lie down. You've overexerted yourself."
"Are you trying to avoid the subject?"
"No." She pushed open the door to her bedroom and led Turner to the bed. "You can hear it lying down." Bridget arranged a row of pillows so he could lie on his side and lean comfortably against them.
"Get in." Bridget pointed at the spot she'd prepared.
"Yes, ma'am." He kicked off his shoes and did as she asked.
She should have gotten another change of clothes for him to wear until he got home. A lot of Julian's things were still in his old closet, but none would fit Turner. Her son was much taller.
"Do you mind sleeping naked, or do you want me to get you one of Julian's T-shirts?"
The smirk on Turner's face was a clear indication of his preference. "Do you have plans for me tonight, Doctor?"
Did she ever.
If he weren't injured, she would've jumped him on sight in the hospital. After mourning his death, there was no better way to affirm his life than having wild sex with the man.
"My plans will have to wait. You're injured, and in my current mood I can't promise to be gentle."
He reached for her, clasping her hand and pulling her to lie on her side facing him. "Why is that?" His hand smoothed over the curve of her back, sliding down to cup a butt cheek.
"Because I'm an immortal female, and I can hurt you if I'm not careful."
"You haven't yet." He pulled her closer against his hard erection and rolled his hips.
As the contact sent fire cascading from her breasts to her center, Bridget stifled a moan. "Please don't do that. You strain your back every time you engage the muscles in your shoulders and arms."
His hand closed on her nape. "Did you and Spivak happen before he turned immortal or after?"
Damn it. She didn't want to talk about Andrew. "Before."
He tightened his hold. "Were you gentle with him?"
"He wasn't injured."
Victor's blue-gray eyes turned icy. "Do you still have feelings for him?"
If she were human, Bridget would have been scared of Turner's cold aggression, but as an immortal, she had nothing to fear from a human, especially an injured one. In fact, she found it arousing, which was unlike her. Bridget was used to being the aggressor.
For a moment, she considered taunting Turner with evasive answers, but for some reason he seemed on edge. It must've been the competitive thing because there was no way the man felt jealousy. He wasn't capable of that.
"We are friends. We were never more than that."
His eyes were still cold as he asked, "Did you ever love a man?"
This time she couldn't help the tease. "Yes, with all my heart."
Turner's facial muscles pinched as if she'd hurt him. She took pity on him.
"I never loved a man in the romantic sense. I love my son, and I love my cousins—meaning the clan males. Not all of them, of course. Just those who I'm close to."
He let out a breath. "I never loved a woman either. Other than my grandmother, that is, and that was when I was a small boy. When I got older, my grandparents didn't know how to handle a kid like me."
"What do you mean?"
"I was too smart. Adults don't feel comfortable around a kid who knows more than they do about almost everything. Especially given my ability to deduce the correct outcomes of events with eerie accuracy. My antisocial tendencies didn't help either."
"They must've been simple people."
"They were."
"What about your mother?"
"I don't remember her."
Bridget cupped his cheek. "What about me?"
"You are amazing."
Nice copout. "Do you have feelings for me? And I don't mean love, I know that's not on the table. But am I your friend?"
"You're much more than that."
Should she push for more? "A friend with benefits?"
"More than that too. You're someone I like being around, someone I enjoy talking to, and that's more than I ever felt for anyone. By your standards, or that of most normal people, it's probably very little, but for me, it's a lot."
Bridget's heart did a little flip. For Turner, this was almost as good as a declaration of love.
"I like being with you too." She ran her palms over the ridges and valleys of his muscular chest. "But that's because I'm after your body," she said to lighten things up.
"Then have at it."
Could she take what she needed without hurting him?
As Bridget pushed her hands under his T-shirt, the contact with his warm skin sent a volley of tingles down her spine. They were about more than sexual need, though. Turner was not a random hookup, and there was more to their coming together than raw carnality. She couldn't have the wild no-holds-barred sex she favored, but perhaps she could try slow and gentle for a change.
She tugged the bottom of his T-shirt. "Let me help you get rid of this."
Chapter 46: Turner
After Bridget helped Tur
ner out of the rest of his clothes, he lay naked on her bed and watched her strip.
She wasn't trying to be sexy. She didn't need to.
The fluid grace with which she did everything was mesmerizing, and the best analogy he could come up with was something between a predatory feline and a dancer.
It was a revelation how much the combination of Bridget's powerful body and even more powerful mind turned him on—a surprise for a dominant man who never thought he would enjoy relinquishing control to a woman and enjoy it.
His natural dominance wasn't about the physical, it was about the mental. Turner always dictated what and how things were done and expected his partner to submit to his will. He wasn't a selfish lover, though, and he listened to what his partners wanted or needed from him, but he couldn't conceive of ever being led by another.
With Bridget, however, he was perfectly satisfied to lie back and let her take charge. The question was, whether she was satisfied with that as well.
It was hard to tell.
The woman had a dominant streak a mile long, but that didn't mean a thing, as proven by the many powerful and successful men who enjoyed being sexually dominated by women, or other men as the case may be. He was sure it was true of successful women as well, but in his line of business, Turner dealt mostly with men.
At the start of his career, when he'd run background checks that included the target's sexual preferences, he'd been surprised to find out how diverse they were, and it seemed that the more affluent and influential the guy was, the more he indulged in activities that were considered outside the norm. Naturally, this wasn't something anyone wanted to be known about themselves, and Turner had often used what he'd found out to his advantage. Sometimes years later. Any information he gained, he stored for future use.
Turner had no moral qualms about that either.
Even though his life and his profession were steeped in secrecy, his motto in life was not to do anything he would be embarrassed about or give someone a weapon to use against him.
He took ownership of his choices and his decisions.
Except for those fearing persecution, like gays in days past or backward countries of today, anyone who was ashamed of their sexual preference shouldn't engage in it.
