“Well, don’t eat it all,” Santiago teased. “Save some for me.”
“That’s such important work you’re doing with the sweetblood safehouse,” Roxy said, licking her thumb. She still had frosting on her cheek, but he didn’t reach over to wipe it off. He found it charming that she was a messy eater sometimes.
“Thanks,” Arianna said quietly. “It’s not much but it’s my way of contributing.” Having lost her mother to Darkbloods when she was a child, she was motivated to help other families impacted by the same thing.
“Are you crazy?” Roxy said. “I’d say that’s a lot. I’ll bet if you talk to Cosette or Yvonne, they’d say it’s huge what you’re doing.”
With her hand on the door, Arianna turned to leave, but she hesitated and looked straight at Santiago. “I know this little—” she made a stirring motion with her fingers “—whatever this is, started out as fake, but if you let her go, I’m going to be pissed.”
* * *
THE NEXT FEW days leading up to the awards ceremony were a whirlwind. Mary Alice was flying in, which meant Roxy needed to order flowers, get a card. She wanted to fill the woman’s room with bouquets of her favorite flowers upon her arrival—irises, tiny pink roses, white tulips—and didn’t know if they were in season or not. At Jenella’s recommendation, she visited a popular florist downtown who was able to handle everything. Seeing a well-stocked drugstore on her way back to the field office, Roxy realized she needed a few things for the gala. Lotions, hair care products, clear nail polish.
But an hour later, as she stood in the bathroom adjoining Santiago’s bedroom, she tried to keep her hands from shaking. The blue plus sign on the pregnancy test was as bold and easy to read as a billboard.
That explained some of the nausea she’d been having. The increased appetite. Because she assumed it was related to those old panicky feelings she occasionally suffered from, she’d been meditating even more lately, thinking she needed to get a better handle on her body.
If it hadn’t been for a strange heaviness in her lower abdomen that she’d noticed at the floral shop, she wouldn’t have even thought to pick up a test when she walked down that aisle in the drug store.
She slumped to the floor and covered her face in her hands.
At one time in her life she’d have loved knowing she was expecting a baby, even though the chances were slim. Most pre-Change youthlings dreamed of being one of the few capable of producing children. But now? Why did the fertility gods suddenly decide to visit her? It had never dawned on her to use protection. None of their people did, so she wasn’t about to blame Santiago either. This was crazy. This…this fling wasn’t even real.
What was she going to do now? Santiago didn’t want children or a family. He didn’t want a wife.
Their society dictated that if a couple produced children, they should have more. People would pressure them to get married. And Santiago, being an honorable man, would probably step up because he thought it was the right thing to do. He would be thrust into the same situation as his parents, who married only because his mother got pregnant. Their society had enough unhappy marriages brought about in an effort to produce more offspring.
Although her father had died when she was very young, she still remembered her parents laughing and loving each other. She wanted what they had and wasn’t about to compromise simply because of a plus sign on a pregnancy test.
The facets on the wedding ring cast cheery rainbows of color on the bathroom walls, reminding her what a joke this all was.
She wallowed in self-pity for a while, letting her negative attitude run amok as she used the whole box of tissues. When she crumpled up the last one, she decided she’d had enough.
She pulled herself off the floor and stared at her reflection in the mirror. These were the eyes of a fighter looking back at her. Having overcome adversity in the Guardian ranks to succeed as a tracker, she’d have to buck the system and reinvent herself. She’d done it before and she could do it again.
She’d tell Santiago about the baby, but she wouldn’t let him talk her into anything. She’d make it clear that she was perfectly capable of doing this on her own. He’d be welcome to come visit anytime and when the child was older, he or she could visit Santiago.
She tossed the pregnancy test into the trash and turned on the shower. This had to be a sign, pushing her to stop this charade. This fake romance of theirs had produced results that were entirely too real and it was time for it to end.
* * *
ROXY SLIPPED THE turquoise sequined dress over her head. Because it fit her curves like a glove, she had to shimmy it down over her hips.
He tried not to stare—they needed to be in the field office foyer in fifteen minutes—but he couldn’t help himself. It was like having his own private peep show.
She contorted around, arching her spine in an effort to reach the long zipper. The gown dipped dangerously low in the back, molded around her bottom and stopped midthigh. He quickly adjusted his growing erection as he grabbed the car keys from his desk.
One thing was sure. When they got back to his quarters tonight, he was going to exercise his faux husbandly rights again.
She held the front of the dress to her chest and stepped into a pair of beige high heels. He wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this.
“Can you zip me up? I can’t quite reach it.”
Santiago folded his arms and took a step back. “Isn’t there someone else who can do it?”
For a moment, she looked as if he’d just slapped her. God, he could be such an idiot sometimes.
“What I meant to say was…” His heart felt as if it had swelled in his chest. He was pretty sure that if he took a deep breath right now, it’d have nowhere to go. Why did he have such a difficult time expressing himself around her? He wasn’t normally at a loss for words but she’d made him tongue-tied and now she was hurt. Maybe he was trying too hard. “It’s just because you look so gorgeous. Too gorgeous. If I help you, I might accidentally get confused and take it off instead. You plus that dress equals trouble for me. I’m just recognizing my weakness, that’s all.”
The pain in her eyes was gone. Good. He couldn’t stand having her mad at him. But now it was replaced with a sly little smile. “Weakness? As in just one?”
“Oh, I have others. Good scotch. Cinnamon rolls. Salt-and-vinegar chips.” His real weakness, the one that ran in his family, wasn’t one he wanted to mention, however.
His mood started to dampen and he turned away from her. This playful banter was fun, but at some point, their little game would be over. She’d go back to Florida and he’d go back to the region offices.
“Well, then I’m honored to be included on such a delicious list.” She came around and adjusted his bow tie even though he was fairly certain it was straight, then she slowly looked him up and down. “God, I could say the same thing about you.”
Before he realized what she was doing, she pushed him against the wall of the bedroom, and caged him between her arms. “Roxy… We can’t…” People were waiting for them.
Her lashes were thick and long, and she’d done that little cat-eye thing to make her eyes even more dramatic. She gave him a no-nonsense, don’t-disagree-with-me, this-means-business kiss. The kind that said she was in charge and wasn’t going to put up with his shit. He had to admit, he rather liked being manhandled.
Then she reached for his belt.
“Hey, hold on.” He grabbed her hands. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for this.” He wanted to have time for it and the now-heavy weight between his legs wanted it, but they were due at the Edgemont Hotel in less than thirty minutes. If she wanted to fool around, she’d have to wait till later.
She pushed his hands away and unzipped his fly anyway, as if he hadn’t registered a protest. She was on a mission and wasn’t about to let him stop her.
Cool fingers slipped into his boxer briefs and wrapped around his erection. If he wasn’t already leaning
against the wall, he’d have been staggering backward already.
“Oh, wow, what do we have here?” Her kitten-soft tone was beguiling.
He pressed his palms on the wall behind him, trying to keep his thoughts straight but having a hard time. He hadn’t expected this. At all. “We really shouldn’t be doing this now.”
She kept stroking him.
“We don’t have time,” he choked. “People are waiting for us.”
“Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”
A sleeve had slipped down her shoulder and from this angle he could see the tops of her creamy breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra—God, the advantages of that slinky dress were increasing by the minute—and one dusky pink nipple was almost visible. What he wouldn’t give to have it in his mouth right now.
She scooched her gown up a little and—
Oh, God, she kneeled down in front of him with her heels pointing out crazily behind her.
She was going to do that? His heart was beating so hard he was positive she could hear it. Although he wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, he had the wherewithal—barely—to know he couldn’t mess it up.
He pinched his eyes shut. Ground his molars together.
He felt her hot breath on him first and then—oh, God—her mouth.
Suddenly, there was nothing more important than the next few minutes. Everything else would have to wait.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WITH MORE RESPECT, dignity and honor than Roxy had ever dreamed, Santiago presented the sword to Mary Alice in front of dozens of VIPs at the old Edgemont Hotel. He looked amazingly handsome up on the stage, his muscular body dressed in an Italian tuxedo.
“Years ago, well before the formation of the Council and the Agency, Ian and I served together as brothers in arms. And although we lost touch with each other, we both went on to become Guardians. I’m honored to have worked with him and call him a friend.”
Santiago presented the newly polished and restored blade to Mary Alice.
“I can’t thank you enough,” the older woman said later, dabbing her eyes. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“If it hadn’t been for Roxy, the weapon may have never been recovered.”
Mary Alice patted Roxy’s knee. “She’s a good egg, this one.”
After Santiago left to talk to a few West Coast Council members, Mary Alice turned to Roxy. With her white hair piled high atop her head and secured with an antique comb, she wore a pearl-gray dress with a Cameo broach at the neckline. Two bright spots of color spotted on her cheeks.
“Tell me about that young man.”
Young man? Oh, she must mean Santiago. Maybe when you got to be Mary Alice’s age, everyone looked as if they’d just passed their Time of Change. “What would you like to know?”
“He’s very dynamic.”
Roxy stifled a smile. That was the understatement of the century. “He is. Very.”
“And he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“He likes you, Roxy,” Mary Alice said, giving her wineglass to a waiter who was refilling glasses. “Actually, it’s more than just like.”
“That’s a relative term.” She grabbed her water glass to give her hands something to do. “None for me, thanks,” she told the waiter who then left.
Mary Alice took the tiniest sip of wine, barely enough to wet her lips. “You know, a woman doesn’t get to be my age without being able to recognize when a man is in love.”
Roxy glanced around and lowered her voice. “Santiago is not in love with me. He’s just very convincing.” She’d already explained to Mary Alice about their faux relationship and why.
The older woman smiled. “I think you need to open your eyes, Roxy. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”
Her face heated and she suddenly felt a little light-headed. This had happened several times in the past few days. Morning sickness or nerves? “I’m not sure if I’m ready to be in a relationship.”
“And why not? You’re a vibrant young woman with your whole life ahead of you.”
“Are you saying I should pursue a relationship with him? You’d be okay with that?”
Mary Alice frowned as if that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. “Honey, I want you to be happy. You do not need to keep living your life in an attempt to keep me happy. You’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know. I’m fine. It’s time for you to move on, live life for yourself rather than lamenting a past that was never meant to be your destiny.”
* * *
SANTIAGO GRABBED A stuffed mushroom and a napkin when a waiter walked by with a tray of them. The night was a success, as far as he was concerned, he thought as he glanced around the room. The presentations had gone well and Mary Alice had seemed truly grateful. Agents from Seattle, Portland and Vancouver were stationed at their posts in various locations around the room and more were outside. He hadn’t wanted to take any chances with a potential security breach, and so far, things had been going smoothly.
“She’s really quite amazing, isn’t she?” Santiago turned to see Rand St. James staring in Roxy’s direction.
The new field team leader in San Diego was Hollywood handsome with piercing green eyes, a square jawline, and perfect white teeth that looked like a cosmetic dentist’s wet dream.
“Who are you talking about?” Santiago knew damned well who St. James was talking about, but he had to act like he didn’t. “There must be over a hundred people here.” He fought to keep his voice monotone and semidisinterested.
“I’m referring to Roxanne.”
Santiago gripped his glass of scotch so hard it was a wonder it didn’t snap. He didn’t like the sound of her name on the guy’s lips.
“I heard that—”
“Yeah, we got married.” So back the fuck away from her. Until they sorted things out, confirming there was no traitor, St. James didn’t need to know the truth.
Mr. Perfect raised one eyebrow. “Interesting.” He took a sip of his drink. Santiago started to excuse himself, but the guy started talking again. “Did I tell you that one of the tasks the Council has assigned to me is setting up a West Coast campus of Tracker Academy? I had no idea she was going to be attending this event. I had planned to talk to her in the next few weeks to see if she’s interested in transferring over.”
Santiago had heard that the Council was toying with opening another branch of the Academy, but he hadn’t heard that they’d actually decided on the location. He spotted one of the Seattle area’s Council members, on the other side of the room. Why hadn’t Trace told Santiago this had been decided yet?
He wanted to reiterate to St. James that they were married, that they’d have to talk things over together whether she’d accept the position or not, but he kept his mouth shut. It would come out soon enough that it was all a sham anyway.
* * *
VENTRA FORCED HERSELF to eat another hors d’oeuvre. About the only thing she could stomach was the steak tartare and sashimi. Anything cooked, especially vegetables, made her want to gag. She subtly adjusted her wig then spritzed on a little more perfume.
Once this was over, she was going to suck half of Seattle dry just to get the taste of human food out of her mouth. But her experiment had worked. She was at a Council event and no one seemed wise to the fact that she was a Darkblood. Having eaten only human food, no blood whatsoever for what felt like forever, she’d begun to smell less like an all-blood drinker and more like a weak-ass Council supporter.
She found their machinations very entertaining. The rules, the procedures. It was mundane and boring. But when they presented that old woman with the sword—Ventra’s sword—she had a hard time restraining herself. Not only was that weapon rightfully hers—she’d killed the Guardian who gave it to her—but Santiago announced that he had destroyed her house and all the things that were important to her. Because of him and the efforts of his people, her standing within th
e Alliance was in jeopardy.
Tossing the cherry from her drink over her shoulder, she drained the glass. She’d eaten enough solid food. The alcohol burned as it went down, but she rather enjoyed it. Perhaps when this was all over, she’d add some of it to her all-blood diet. Or maybe have a blood cocktail.
She watched as he talked to that old woman, while he had his hand on the back of the blond in the turquoise dress. Another male came up to them and she noticed how he subtly put his body between them, like he was protecting the woman, keeping her away from other males. It was clear she was his possession. Someone he cared about.
She smiled to herself, careful not to flash fang, for she knew a woman who was about to make his life much much worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MITCH HELD THE phone away from his ear. “I’ve got Dom on the line. He wants to know how the evening’s going. Do you have a minute?”
Santiago had been keeping an eye on two youthlings who looked like they might be up to no good. One whispered into the other’s ear and they soon left the foyer where Santiago and a few of his men were standing. “Uh…”
“Want me to tell him you’ll call him later?”
“No, I can talk now.” He took the phone from Mitch, but before he put it to his ear, he motioned to Kip. “Can you check on those two? It might be nothing, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Yeah, sure.” Kip left after the youthlings.
Santiago held the phone up. “Hey, buddy, how are you?”
No answer.
“Hello?” Still no answer. He gave the phone back to Mitch. “The call must’ve dropped.”
Mitch cursed. “I’ve been having so much trouble with my reception lately, I’m tempted to flush the phone down the toilet.”
“Me, too,” Jackson said. “But Cordell got me fixed up, right Cordy?”
Cordell finished taking a swig from his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Whatcha got?” Mitch handed the phone over. “Maybe your memory is jacked up. Have you powered it down lately?”
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