Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (38 page)

Eliot
drove slowly over the dark ice patches on the road, the heater running at full
blast. The kitten kept pawing at his arm, as Brynn let it crawl all over her,
its tiny claws digging into the coat as it tumbled over itself. It managed to
clamber out of Brynn
’s hands and onto Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot felt
the pinpricks of the claws and then a small tongue licking at his earlobe.

“Get it off!” he cried, trying
desperately not to take his eyes off of the road. The raspy tongue tickled his
ear and he tensed his head to the side to avoid it.

“Sorry,” Brynn said, a giggle in
her voice. “He likes you.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,”
Eliot said, grudgingly. The damn thing would give him fleas, he knew it.

“Sorry,” Brynn repeated, prying
the kitten off of Eliot’s shoulder and putting it back in her lap. “Lucky, you
stay here now.”

As they pulled up to the estate,
Eliot heard Brynn gasp. With her sitting next to him, he saw the place as she
saw it, a vast acreage of beauty. Surrounded by a fence of cypress trees, the
gates in front opened up to what couldn’t be called anything but a castle. The
stone walls stretched up high over the gardens below, the roofs pointed in
spires.

“It’s like a fairytale,” she
said, her voice wondrous. “This is where you live?”

“It’s the family estate,” he
explained. “But no one has lived there for a while.”

“What about your brother?”

“He lives downtown, close to the
government buildings.” Close to the women and nightlife and action. Eliot
couldn’t imagine his brother anywhere rural, and this place came as close to
the forests as you could get while still being inside of the city limits.

Pulling up in front of the
house, Brynn pressed her nose to the window in awe. Eliot opened her door and
helped her out, taking her bag out of the backseat. She nestled the kitten in
her arms.

Eliot paused for a moment. “The
inside isn’t cleaned up yet,” he said. “It’s been a while since anybody came
over to tidy the place.”

“Are you apologizing for not
cleaning up your
castle
?” Brynn asked teasingly. The drive over seemed
to have woken her up considerably. Eliot unlocked the front door and pushed it
open, inviting her in. She stepped over the threshold and looked around. The
light inside was even dimmer than in the apartments. Eliot flicked a switch and
the lamps illuminated the hallway. Two great staircases curved up to the second
floor, and the marble floors reflected the light.

“Yeah, you should be ashamed.
This castle is so
messy
.” Her peals of laughter echoed through the
hallways.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said. The
pieces of furniture looked ghostly, covered in white sheets. Cobwebs stretched
out from the chandelier to the rafters.

“Just terrible,” Brynn said, a
broad smile on her face. In her arms, the kitten meowed in agreement.

“Let’s go to the study,” Eliot
said. “I’ll make you some tea.” He waved her upstairs, and she went obediently.

“The study?”

“It’s basically where I’ve been
living the past few days,” Eliot explained. They walked down the long corridor
upstairs, and Eliot turned off the light behind them. At the end of the hall,
flickering light beckoned from one of the rooms.

“My study,” Eliot said, his arm
spread out toward the room. Brynn’s eyes widened as she went through the
doorway. It was the one room in the house that Eliot was proud of. He had built
the shelves himself along the wall and lined them all with books. Leather
couches and chairs made the room cozy, inviting. His oak desk sat on one end,
scattered with papers. At the other end a giant stone fireplace flickered with
dying light.

“It’s wonderful,” Brynn said.
The kitten wriggled in her grasp, and she set him down. “Don’t go far, Lucky.”
But the kitten seemed to know exactly where it wanted to go. Lucky jumped right
up on a leather chair by the fire and curled up, its eyes closing sleepily.
Brynn examined the shelves, her fingers running across the spines of the books.
Eliot picked up two logs from the wood basket and threw them on the fire. The
embers blazed up brightly, throwing new light into the room.

“Does this work?” Brynn stood
over the old record player.

“Yes, the switch is on the
side.”

Brynn started up the record
player and laid the needle down in the outer groove. A sonatina’s notes lilted
softly through the room. Brynn’s mouth turned up into a contented smile, and
Eliot felt himself ache as he watched her. Then her eyes turned to his and he ducked
his head, afraid that she might see the longing in his face.

“Would you like some tea?” he
asked. He coughed in one hand, his eyes rising to meet hers, his shields up.

“Yes, please,” Brynn said.

“I’ll be right back. Make
yourself comfortable.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands, clasping them
awkwardly behind him as he exited the room. Surely she could see his
discomfort, but she made no sign of noticing. It was a kindness to him, and he
did not know what he would do if she were not so good. He fixed the tea
quickly, fastidious about pouring the cream and laying out the sugar.
Earlier in the morning he had bought a loaf of bread, and he cut and buttered
some, thinking she might like a snack, thinking if there was anything else he
could do for her. He carried the tray through the door to his study, almost
dropping it when he saw where she was.

Brynn was standing bent over
Eliot’s desk, examining his mathematical work. He inhaled sharply, tilting the
tray. The teacups slid sideways and he righted it just in time. Nobody had seen
his work in years, and it startled him to have someone besides himself at the
desk. She looked up, and must have seen the look of surprise on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a
step back from his work. “I only wanted to see.”

“No, of course, it’s perfectly
alright,” Eliot stammered. It was wasn’t it? Wasn’t that the whole reason he
had brought her here?

Well, perhaps not the whole
reason. He brought the tray to the oak desk, and set it down as carefully as he
could on the corner. The kitten sat up, apparently invigorated by the sight of
tea, and jumped to the floor, darting under the desk and wrapping itself around
Brynn’s ankles. Brynn leaned down and picked up the kitten, cradling it
in her arms.

“What does this mean?” Brynn
asked, pointing to an equation Eliot had written a number of times across the
page.

Eliot wiped his hand across his
brow. “It’s the standard equation of a projective formula. I’ve been trying to
manipulate it to be able to use it later here—” he pointed down to
another equation on the page. “Do you know anything about projective
algorithms?”

Brynn shook her head. “Not a
clue.”

“It’s like a matrix
transformation.”

“There was one of those problems
on the test,” Brynn said. “I only got the first part. The second part was
impossible
.”

“Okay,” Eliot said, relieved to
be back on stable footing. “Let’s start with that.”

The light grew red and dim as
they sipped their tea and Eliot explained the basis of his work. Brynn petted
the kitten in her lap and watched, occasionally asking questions or writing
down notes on a scrap sheet of paper.

Eliot, in the middle of
explaining one of the deeper aspects of part of his projection algorithm,
looked over to find Brynn leaning on his shoulder, her eyes closed, her chest
moving in the breath of deep sleep.

The poor girl. He had rambled on
and on and she had tried to listen. Eliot eased her upright in her seat, but
her head lolled down. She must be exhausted. Trying not to make any sudden
movements, he picked her up and carried her carefully to the guest bedroom,
laying her down in the oversized bed and tucking the blankets in around her
chin. She slept on, her lips slightly parted, and he brushed back a strand of
her hair from her face. She shifted and murmured something. He leaned close to
hear what it was she was saying.

“…wonderful,” she said.
“You’re wonderful. Everything…wonderful.”

Eliot couldn’t help pressing a
soft, protective kiss to her temple. His hand rested gently on her head, and
the kitten jumped up at the foot of the bed, curling up on her feet and purring
so loud that Eliot was sure it would wake her. Still she slept on, her hands
tucked against her cheeks in a prayer pose. He could not say what it was that
he felt in his heart, a possessiveness that he did not deserve to feel. It was
all he could do not to stay and watch her sleep, for he was afraid that if he
left she would vanish again and he would not have her there with him. The
kitten’s tail switched across the blanket more slowly, then came to rest.
Despite hating most cats, Eliot had to admit that this one was rather cute.

Eliot stood and left them

CHAPTER NINE

“See, I cast the die, and I
write the book. Whether it is to be read by the people of the present or of the
future makes no difference: let it await its reader for a hundred years, if God
himself has stood ready for six thousand years for one to study him.” - Kepler

The first night in Budapest I
woke in that odd hour between first and second sleep, near midnight. The snow
outside fell softly against the windows, the flakes drifting up onto the panes
and crusting the glass white such as it never had been in Pasadena, and for a
moment I didn’t know where I was, my self so far removed from anything close to
what I called home.

Then I saw the moon outside. I
exhaled, and my sense of dispossession evaporated, disappearing almost as
quickly as my white breath into the air. A sense of peace came over me. I would
see my mother’s grave, and I would know love. I felt as certain of this as I did
anything else, and this time I did not have to walk to calm myself. Indeed,
there was nowhere to go—I was where I needed to be. As I fell back into
sleep, I caught myself smiling.

I woke up in the most beautiful
room I had ever been in. The large canopied bed swathed with velvet fabric
enclosed me in my dreams. I confess that my dreams mostly revolved around
Eliot, his beautiful eyes and quiet smile. There lingered a tension between us
from our former encounters, a magical feeling that I could not put my finger
on—did not want to put my finger on, lest it dissipate. I knew he still wanted
me, and I still wanted him, and though we had both accepted that we could not
have each other, there was still a longing that I saw in his eyes which I am
sure was reflected in mine.

I dressed quickly in jeans and a
light sweater, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth in the granite
sink with copper fixtures. Everything here gave off an air of old elegance, of
beauty enhanced by age rather than deteriorated by it. I tiptoed down the hall
and down the main staircase. There was a chill in the air here that was not in
my room, but my sweater kept me warm.

“Hello?”

“Brynn?” His voice came from
just around the corner on the first floor. I hopped down the rest of the way
down the stairs and turned the corner to see him at the stove, the countertop
covered in flour. Lucky sat on the edge of the countertop, licking at a small
saucer of milk. Both kitten and man were dusted lightly in patches of
flour—Lucky on his tail and Eliot on the end of his nose.

I clapped my hand to my mouth to
stifle a giggle.

“Before you say anything, know
that we—both of us—had the best of intentions with breakfast.” Eliot came
over to me and gave me a chaste hug, careful not to transfer any flour from his
body to mine. I reached out and swiped my thumb across his nose to get rid of
the flour. He stared cross-eyed at my fingers and caught his breath. I stepped
back and surveyed the kitchen, my hands on my hips. The sinks looked like they
had been hit by a tornado, with piles of plates and glasses left unwashed,
sprawling over the countertops. Behind them the huge windows gave a picturesque
view of the mountains covered in snow, a fir forest creeping up to the edge of
the estate.

“What exactly is it you are
trying to make?” I asked.

“Pancakes. It seemed so simple
at the university dining hall,” Eliot explained. “I found a recipe in a book,
but I must have added too much water. Then I tried to put more flour in to
rebalance, you understand.”

I nodded seriously, my
suppressed grin threatening to come to the surface.

“And that’s when I realized we
were out of eggs. And this little one—” he said, frowning and pointing with a
batter-covered spoon, “would not leave me alone. I had to give him cream to get
rid of him!”

“That is a shame.” I petted
Lucky on the head, and he purred happily, rubbing himself on my hand. He
already looked happier than when I had found him yesterday.

“My mother always used to make
such delicious palacsinta,” Eliot said, sitting down with a sigh in one of the
kitchen chairs. “Like pancakes, but stuffed with things, you know.”

“What do you normally have for
breakfast?” I asked.

“Oh, just tea and bread with
butter and honey,” he said. “And a side of bacon. The butcher has such fresh cuts
here. Much better than in America.”

My stomach grumbled, and Eliot
raised his eyebrows.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.
“How about you make us some breakfast while I clean this up?”

Lucky meowed in apparent
agreement and I got to work on the dishes while Eliot put a kettle on for the
hot water. He happily fried up thick slabs of bacon, and the kitchen filled
with the rich, heady scent of the meat. We sat down at the countertop with
large mugs, the windows to the backyard now showing the first rays of sunlight
coming over the mountaintops.

“What a gorgeous place,” I said.
I sipped my tea. Eliot brought over the plates full of bread, honey, and bacon.

“Sometimes I forget how
beautiful it is,” Eliot said. There was a sadness in his voice. “We can go and
walk the grounds later today, perhaps. I don’t want you going out into the
woods on your own.”

“Why not?” I bit into the loaf
of bread, sweet and buttery and crusty. My stomach calmed down as I continued
to feed it the most delicious bacon I had ever tasted. I bit off the fatted
parts first, leaving the crisp meaty bits for the end.

“Poachers.” Eliot sipped his tea
and put the cup back down on the granite countertop. “Among others. The deer
are out, now, and the poachers come too close to my house for comfort. They’re
not allowed, of course, but when they track a deer past the boundary line…”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say
that they don’t care too much about whose property is whose.”

“They wouldn’t shoot me,
though!” I caught Eliot staring at my carefully dissected bacon. While he
averted his eyes, I hastily ate the rest. My food routines would seem strange
to anyone, and I didn’t want Eliot to think I was weird.

“Of course not. At least, not on
purpose. But always wear something bright to go out. I’ll make sure Marta knows
to buy you a brightly colored coat.”

“Marta?”

“My brother’s wife. I called and
asked if she might take you shopping today for some warm clothes.”

“Oh.” My mind raced. “But, I
really can’t. I mean…”

Eliot looked at me, all
questions in his eyes. How could I tell him that I was too poor to buy
breakfast, let alone a coat?

“I think I’ll be fine once the
heater is on in the apartments,” I finished lamely.

“Nonsense,” he said. “You’ll
freeze just walking to the academy from there. I really should have known. You
can’t ask a girl who lives her whole life in California to pack warmly for
Hungary.”

“But,” I protested, my skin
growing warm. “I mean, it’s just… I really don’t have the money, you know.”

A flash of realization crossed
his eyes, but Eliot waved his hand in the air casually.

“Of course, but Otto owes me a
debt from long ago. I’ve already arranged it.”

“But—“

Eliot took my hand in his, and I
felt a rush of warmth from the pressure of his palm over mine.

“Please, Brynn. It’s no trouble
at all, and we can’t have students traipsing around the city dressed for
summertime.”

I swallowed, nodding.

“And that reminds me, you’ll be
needing money for lunches and things.” He dug into his pocket and brought out a
handful of bills. “I noticed you hadn’t changed any of your money yet.”

I took the money from him,
startled with the generosity that he pressed on me.

“I’ll…I’ll pay you back.” I
looked down at the bills. There were a half dozen 10,000 forint marks. I had no
idea how much that was in dollars, but it felt like a lot.

“Of course, but no rush, no
rush.”

“Who’s the guy on the money?”
The face looking back at me from the red and blue bill resembled Jesus, a man
wearing a crown of crosses with a beard and long hair.

Eliot peered over. “Him? That’s
Saint Stephen. Some say he was the first king of Hungary, although really there
were others before him. He ruled over the country when the Pope gave us
independence from the Roman Empire.”

“So he’s famous here?”

“Well, we get a holiday for him.
You’re always famous if you have a holiday. That way people are sure to
remember you, if only because they get a day off.” Eliot winked.

“The only saint we have a
holiday for is Saint Patrick,” I said, tucking the bills into my pocket. “And
I’m pretty sure people think he was a leprechaun.”

“Saint Stephen was a good one as
far as they go,” Eliot said, his voice turning quiet. “’
Be strong lest
prosperity lift you up too much or adversity cast you down.
’ He preached a
good doctrine, even if he didn’t always follow it.”

A knock sounded from the front
door.

“That must be Marta,” Eliot
said. He got up from his chair. “Early as always.”

“Can Lucky stay here with you
while I’m gone?” I asked.

Eliot eyed the kitten warily.
“As long as he promises not to claw my leg when he wants cream.” He left to go
open the door for Marta.

“You’ll be good, won’t you,
Lucky?” He purred convincingly as I scratched behind his ears.

A woman came through the door,
and I thought for a moment that she must be a giantess, so tall were her heels.
Her blond hair piled atop her head in a bun that extended her height even
farther, and a crisply tailored suit fitted her lean body perfectly in a
robin’s egg blue. She crossed the kitchen in a handful of strides and pulled me
close to her in a familiar hug, her bosom pressing against my chest. I smelled
a delicate violet scent of perfume, and her diamond earrings tickled my cheek.

“So this is Brynn!” she cried,
exclamation punctuating every word she said. She spoke nearly perfect English,
her accent slightly British but otherwise unnoticeable. She pulled back and
took me by both arms, examining me. I tried on my most convincing smile. “How
darling. Eliot’s told me so much about you! And of course Otto is dying to meet
you, as well.”

I wondered what Eliot had told
her that promised so much of me, but I decided she must just be overly
friendly. My jaw hurt from smiling broadly, and when she turned to Eliot for a
hug I was glad for the chance to relax my face.

“Eliot, dear, why haven’t you
come to visit us again? We’d love to have you for dinner. This time less of a
party, yes? I’ll make sure Otto doesn’t go overboard.”

“I’ve been working,” Eliot said.
“And if you can find a way to stop Otto from going overboard, you’re a more
valiant person than me.”

“Oh, stop!” she cried, her
tittering laughter filling the kitchen. The peace of the morning’s quiet had
been shattered by her presence, but curiosity filled me up as I watched her
move. This was Eliot’s sister-in-law? I wondered about the rest of his family.
I wondered about the brother. Who would marry such an unstoppable force as this
lady?

“Shall we go, then?” Marta was
looking at me, her bright blue eyes framed by long lashes. “We have so much to
do, I don’t want to stand around waiting.”

“Um, sure,” I said.

Eliot caught Marta by the arm as
we went to leave. He spoke a few quick words in Hungarian. Marta’s eyes darted
over to me, but quickly turned away. She spoke back in their native tongue, a
kind tone to her words, and patted Eliot on the shoulder, kissing him twice alternately
on the cheeks. She turned to me expectantly.

I had only read a little bit
about Hungarian customs, and the two-pronged kiss hello and goodbye was
completely unfamiliar to me. Not knowing what to do, I was startled when Eliot
leaned forward and kissed me on the cheeks. His lips barely brushed my skin,
his face pressing lightly against mine, but I felt the contact as piercingly as
when he had touched my hand before. My body leaned forward of its own account,
aching to be held.

“Goodbye, Brynn,” Eliot said
softly. “I will see you later.”

“She’s in good hands,” Marta
said, taking me by the arm and spinning me away toward the door. “I will show
you all of Budapest!”

I had longed to see Budapest for
ages, but now all I wanted was to stay with Eliot, to walk the grounds with him
and work on math with him. I might be in good hands with Marta, but the only
arms I wanted around me were not hers.