He smirked. “No. It’s just not a trick.”
She set the key on the bedside table. “Shall we go get you some books to read while I snore?”
“Do you snore?” he asked, following her to the door.
“We shall see.” She backed out of the room with an arch look. This was going to be so strange. Maybe if she told herself it was like a sleepover, it wouldn’t be so weird. A sleepover with a really hot immortal that would probably end in a broken heart and her death... but mostly just a sleepover.
She was playing with her lower lip while reading the backs of the books. Pulling on it and biting it. It was making him hot and jittery inside. He’d been watching over her for a year, but he froze time so much that it was rare to see her active like this. Lacey in action was a sight to behold.
There wasn’t nearly enough mistletoe in this lodge.
Without looking up, she reached out and slapped him with the book. “Stop staring.”
“Why?”
“It’s weird and you’re supposed to pick out your own books.” She shot him a glance through her lashes.
“We won’t be competing if we pick out separate books.”
She laughed and he realized what she meant about happiness. When she laughed, he was proud that he’d made her laugh and it made him happy. Now that their time was somewhat limited by outside factors, the moments seemed precious. He’d felt exhilaration before. He’d been thrilled and amused. But happy? Happy felt... different than those.
“I won’t be able to get ahead of you if I’m sleeping and you’re reading while I’m sleeping,” Lacey said.
“I can read to you—that way we’re going at the same pace.”
Her smile was big and genuine. “Really? You’ll read aloud to me? Nobody has done that for me since…” She pursed her lips and squinted. “I seem to remember picture books about pokey little puppies, but I think that’s the last book I had read to me.” Her gaze returned to his. “If I get one with a female narrator, will you try to do a female voice?”
He raised his eyebrows. “No. Not in a million years.”
Sighing, she put back the book in her hand. “I guess that’s not an empty threat when you’re dealing with an immortal.” She grabbed two she’d set aside. “Okay, these two and then we should get a chocolate orange. Hannah said Zeit likes them because he can smash them. I’m not sure if that’s a family thing, but we should find out.” She stopped by a display with Santa hats and grabbed two. “You’re wearing a Santa hat at the caroling tonight. If you fight me on it, I’ll hold the chocolate orange for ransom.”
He was about to tell her that he could just conjure anything she wanted but she seemed excited to have found them. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wear the hat for the entire caroling and Ruin wouldn’t see him.
She bumped against him as they stood side-by-side in line. She touched him frequently. He’d missed that by freezing time. Every time she chose to touch him, it sent what felt like a hot shiver through his body.
Lacey wrapped a hand around his bicep and bumped into him again. “After we take this back to our room, we should go have dinner. Hannah said we should definitely get breakfast sent to our room in the morning. She said the food here was really good.” She grinned up at him. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a vacation?”
He was having a hard time concentrating with her body pressed up against his arm, but he shook his head.
She let go of his bicep and he wanted to protest until she grabbed his hand. “It’s been at least two years since I’ve had a long vacation. I was only here for New Year’s Eve last year. And I had so much time accrued that my boss thought I was pathetic. She said no wonder I was on the verge of a breakdown. And she didn’t even know the half of it.”
Lacey had talked like this in the car... a nonstop soothing chatter that required little interaction from him. He’d missed out on a year of that by stopping time.
“Why are you frowning at me?”
He looked up from focusing on their joined hands. “Just wishing I’d spent more time with you this past year.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I should stop talking so much.”
“What? Why?” They reached the cash register and he pulled out his wallet. He’d actually started carrying a wallet this past year.
“You must be tired of me talking your ear off.”
He shook his head as he paid. If only she knew. Even when they were arguing about books, he enjoyed talking with her. What a wasted year. At least he was learning how to live among mortals better and he’d read a lot of good books.
She took the bag from the cashier but kept holding his hand.
“What now?
She swung both her arms including the one holding his. “We take our bag back to the room and then we go get dinner.”
“And then?”
“Caroling. Then, they put the star on the tree and we go change into pjs and listen to Santa read Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
They strolled down the hall at a snail’s pace. He had a contradicting desire to rush her and savor every moment. “In our pajamas?” He grinned. “What do your pajamas look like?”
She laughed and bumped against him. “Nothing like what you’re hoping. They have polar bears all over them. What do yours look like?”
“I don’t know. What should they look like?” He didn’t usually wear much to bed, but as there’d be children present, he should probably wear typical mortal pajamas.
“You could always match me, but that’d be too cutesy so never mind.” She had to raise her voice because farther down the hall, a cleaning woman was vacuuming.
As she stepped toward the door, he swept her off her feet and into his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wow, you send some mixed signals.”
He stepped back and nodded down at the floor where the vacuum cord was stretched across. The cord had frayed directly in front of their door and was sparking.
“Oh whoa! Wow! That’s so not the way I want to go. Ma’am,” she called down the hall. “You can put me down now,” she whispered in his ear as the woman turned.
Her breath on his skin sent electric tingles across him to the point that he checked to make sure he hadn’t stepped on the cord. “I’m not taking chances.”
“Ma’am,” she said again as she waved at the cleaning woman. “Your cord is frayed down here. I think you’d better have it fixed.”
The woman shut off the vacuum and hurried down to look at it. She stared dumbfounded, saying, “It wasn’t like that at all when I got it out. I’d swear to that.”
“Yes, well, my... uhh... friend is quite concerned by the sparking and that can’t be good for the carpet in this area.”
Friend? They were friends, he supposed, but it didn’t sound right coming out of her mouth. It sounded weak.
He shifted her in his arms to get the room key out and, after unlocking the door, backed in. When they were actually inside the room, he set her down and regretted it. His arms felt empty.
Waving at the cleaning lady, she shut the door. “Promise me that if I die in a really dumb way like that, you’ll tell everyone at work that I died saving children from a burning building or something.”
He didn’t like this at all—his arms felt empty and her words clawed at the warmth he’d felt before. He gathered her back into his arms, pressing her against the door she’d just closed. “How about if I promise you I won’t let you die at all?”
She huffed out a breath as her eyes widened. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”
He’d always been a man of action anyway. He’d show her.
He tipped up her chin and put his promise in a kiss.
Hopefully she wouldn’t slap him this time.
The man must have been kissing for centuries to be this good at it. He stole her breath and left her aching with want. She clenched her fists in his hair when he tried to back up. No. Just n
o. He smiled against her lips and even that was sexy.
His tongue swept into her mouth, caressing hers.
Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled back to take his lower lip between her teeth and bite.
He jerked, yanking away from her with his hand at his mouth. “I actually felt that.”
Maybe she’d gotten a little carried away and aggressive. “That was... sorta the point.”
Mood. Killed.
“No, I mean I really felt that. When you bit my lip—I felt that.”
She put her hands on her heated cheeks. Could they possibly stop talking about this? Like soon. Like now?
“It felt strange.”
“Okay, we’re never kissing again.” Geez, did no one ever teach him that if you can’t say anything nice, leave it the hell alone?
He frowned. “What?”
Someone knocked on the door behind her. A minute earlier, and she’d have been disappointed at the interruption. Now, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned to open the door.
Mrs. Cowper, the lodge owner, was out there with the cleaning woman. She was holding the frayed cord with a look of concern. “I just wanted to make sure no one was injured. I can’t imagine how we let the vacuum get into this state.”
“We’re fine. We’re both fine.” Well, she wanted to scream and throw things—possibly a six-foot immortal... out into the hall... for the night.
“I think I liked it,” Tempus said, his finger brushing his lower lip.
She shook her head when the other women looked at her in askance. “He’s talking about something else.” And hopefully he’d stop talking about it.
Her tall, dark tormentor nodded his head. “I liked it a lot. It was erotic.”
“Ooookay, we’re fine. We’re so fine. Thanks for checking on us. We’ve got to get ready for dinner.” She slammed the door in their faces before leaning against it. Her cheeks would be permanently pink at this rate. “I’m going to kill you.”
He didn’t seem to be taking her words seriously. “We should do that again.”
“We’re never doing that again. Had I known you’d act this way—I’d have slapped you again.”
Still not taking her seriously, he grinned that “I can get away with anything because I’m hot” grin. “I’ve never felt like that before. It stung. I think it’s what mortals call pain.”
“Oh, you can feel pain now?”
“Yes. I think I can.”
She kicked him in the shins.
“Ow!” He rubbed his leg. “That was significantly less erotic.”
“Well, you saying all that in front of a woman old enough to be my grandmother—who brought me gingerbread cookies when my father died and came to his funeral—significantly less erotic too.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Get dressed. We’re going to have dinner and probably an argument—dress accordingly.”
“What do you wear to an argument?”
“With a redhead? Something that won’t show the blood.” She slammed her way into the bathroom. The nerve of him! And damn him for making the word “erotic” sound so erotic.
CHAPTER NINE
“What do you think it means that you can feel pain suddenly?” she asked, after eating another bite of her chicken. Watching her eat—knowing how good her teeth felt on him—was making him crazy.
“Probably that my father is on your side and is leaving the corporal punishment in your hands.”
Her cheeks flushed pink again. “You’ve got to stop saying things like that in public.”
He smirked. He couldn’t help it. “Are you saying you’re willing to punish me?”
She put her hands on her cheeks and shook her head back and forth. “I hate you. I officially hate you. I’m going to read the end of those books we got and just tell you who did it.”
“Okay, I’ll stop, but you introduced the topic.”
“I’m introducing another one.”
He held his hands open. “Go ahead.” Conversations with her were turning out to be surprisingly entertaining. He’d never been less bored.
“What would be on your key ring?”
“My key ring?”
He watched the flash of her teeth in the restaurant’s candlelight as she took another bite. If feeling pain was meant to punish him, his father had failed in a very real way. He just had to figure out a way to get Lacey more amenable to doing it again.
“Yes, if you had a key ring, what keys would be on it?”
Well, that was a surprisingly difficult question. “Up until this last year, I’d never owned anything for any length of time. Now, I have the Porsche and my house.”
“Yes, but you’ve had adventures and made connections so you’d have keys. Like, for example, you might have a key to da Vinci’s guesthouse or something.”
He hadn’t done enough of either in his opinion, but playing her game would get him closer to kissing her again so he gave it some thought. “I did stay at the Tuilieries Palace for a time. I’d have a key for there. I’ve stayed at Mount Vernon too, but it was after Washington’s death.”
“Who else famous have you met?”
“I saved Al Capone’s life—when he was a kid. He nearly fell off a dock and died. I stopped that.”
“Hmm.”
“I know. It’s a dubious distinction. I usually don’t brag about it. Most of the time, I’m changing the fate of people you’ll never recognize. I favor big cities typically. I’ve spent a lot of time in L.A.”
“City of angels.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m no angel.” Hopefully she realized that.
“Yeah, I got that. I think even Mrs. Cowper knows that now.”
“Who?”
“The elderly woman at the door earlier who you kept saying ‘erotic’ in front of.”
“I only said it once in front of her.”
She shook her head. “Why do we keep coming back to this?”
“I liked it when you pulled my hair too. I just didn’t know why at the time.”
“Okay, we’re spending the rest of dinner in awkward silence.”
He shrugged. He could still watch her eat. “We should order dessert.”
She sighed. “Okay, but only because I love dessert and they have a chocolate cake that is practically exploding with calories that I’ve got to try.” She moaned. “Though this chicken is good too.”
He settled back in his chair with a smile.
The large Christmas tree star hit the ground with a thwack. Its point impaled the floor.
She’d just been there. She would have been hit by a falling star. Luckily, time had blipped and Tempus had moved her.
“Oh my heavens!” Mrs. Cowper said. “Would you believe the same thing happened two years ago?” She tugged it loose from the floor.
Tempus still had his arms around her. “You’d think they’d change the tradition.”
“That was really close.” Close enough that her body felt shivery.
“Zeit warned me they’d accelerate, but I didn’t realize that meant twice in one day.”
“I think we can skip the rest of the activities and go back to our room for a less lethal night.” Listening to Tempus sing carols had been worth the risk, but there might be collateral damage if she was here when Santa arrived to hang out with the kids.
“Are we still wearing pajamas?”
“Yes.” They weren’t wearing anything less—that was for sure. She didn’t trust his smile at that. “Flannel isn’t sexy. Don’t act like it’s sexy,” she warned as they walked back to their room.
“It can be.”
“Mine isn’t. Maybe I’ll just put it on top of the clothes I’m wearing now.” She pulled the key out of her pocket. Her hand shook as she held it out. That brush with death had been... real. This key might be the last one she collected.
Tempus unlocked the door with his key while she stared pensively at the one on her palm. Then he picked her up by the waist and moved her inside as if she was a giant doll.
“Hey!”
“Hmm?” He shut the door behind them.
“You can’t just move me around like that.”
He shot her a bland look. “You mean other than when I do it to save your life?”
He had a point. “Okay, sure, then... but not normally.”
“Sorry. Habit.”
They took turns in the bathroom changing into pajamas. He wouldn’t go any more adventurous than plaid pajamas bottoms and she insisted he wear a t-shirt. When they were both dressed, they settled in front of the fireplace.
“I called my brother. He said he started feeling pain too before New Year’s Eve.” Tempus smirked. “He said once I get injured I won’t like it as much. He suggested I preemptively bring a bottle of ibuprofen to this plane of existence. He also said I might lose that ability and to plan accordingly by getting extra clothes because laundry is less than magical. Hannah laughed at him when he said that.”
“You’ve never had to do laundry?”
He shook his head.
“Well no wonder you’re all rah rah immortality. If I could get out of laundry, I wouldn’t give it up either.”
Tilting his head, he stared at her. “Wouldn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been watching you for a year. I saw you give your coat to someone on the street last Friday. You buy lunch for that guy who sits in the alley outside your building nearly every day. You help mortal women in bad relationships get out. You volunteered your own life to save a man’s life last New Year’s Eve. You’d probably give up immortality, too, if you had it.”
She interrupted with, “Yeah, but laundry. I hate laundry. That’s half the reason I gave that coat away.”
He shook his head.
Lacey threw her hands up in the air. “All I’m saying is that I understand why you don’t want to give it up.” It was important that she keep reminding herself of that. If he didn’t choose to, it wasn’t because she wasn’t enough—it was just too much for him to give up. Plus, she’d been the one to offer her life as a trade. Not him.
“That’s not why.”
“Then why?”
Servants of Fate Page 16
