Echo of Redemption (11 page)

This is why he’s been moody all morning?
I swallow, hard, my heart in my chest. He misses Thomas as much as I do. I should tell him about the text.
Oh God. The lies, the lies, piling one on top of the other.
I take a deep breath, considering carefully how I would respond if I didn’t know that Thomas was in fact okay and still in the city. “You’re thinking he might be gone for a long time. Months maybe?”

He takes my hand in his. Holding my gaze, he kisses my knuckles. “I’m trying to prepare you that he may never come back.”

“Did he say that to you?” I try to sound affronted.
God, what am I doing?
Garrett and Thomas have both on separate occasions accused me of being such a good actress they hardly know what to believe. It isn’t true. I just keep getting put in these situations…where the truth isn’t always the best thing to say.

“I haven’t heard from him.” His eyes ask if I have, even though he doesn’t ask, or maybe I am just feeling guilty.

I jerk my hand away and stand. I’m on the verge of hysterics, I can feel it. My chest weighs a hundred pounds, I can’t breathe. I want to scream, but I know if I start I might not stop.
I have to get out of this house.
“He won’t leave us, not completely. We’ll hear from him soon.”

I start toward the door. I’m being a horrible slave. All protocol has gone out the window of late and Master isn’t enforcing the rules. It would be so easy to be good if he would just lock me in my cage. But no, he’s letting me run amok.

“And if he does, if he asks you to join him wherever he is, will you leave me to go to him?”

What?
I hadn’t considered that.
Thank God and the angels of mercy
Master
didn’t ask me that
before giving me a glimpse of Lord Ice
.
Is that why Thomas text me and wants to meet with me privately? No, I won’t believe that. He’s committed to the ménage as much as I am.

Circumstances have changed though. Garrett’s right about his brother bringing trouble into our lives. What if the only way for us to be together is away from here? What if he does ask me to go away with him?

I would refuse him.

I would.

This has been long coming, the last six months driving the point home as more and more business trips lure him away and all that time desperation has made me cling to him and in many ways left a wedge lodged between me and Master. Master has been the anchor keeping me grounded.
That
I see clearly now. “I love you, Master, my place is at your side.”

“You love him as much, if not more.”

There is a hurt in Garrett’s eyes I wish I could erase. I’ve caused this doubt with the chaos that is mine and Lord Fyre’s relationship. I press my fingertips to his lips. “No. Not true.”

“You can say that
now
? With him God knows where?”

“I can promise you that I am not going anywhere. Even if he asked that. Thomas may come and go from our lives as he pleases, but I will never go with him. I was yours first. I will be yours always.” I look away, remembering how easily Thomas left us for Eva, the pain of his betrayal still fresh and unexplored. There hasn’t been time to think of that. So much has happened in the last few months. “I’m going to the office.”

* * * *

There is a deli around the corner and down the block from the penthouse. I know of it though I’ve never eaten there. His text said
DELI
, nothing more, nothing less. No day. No time. I do not know how he will know when I will be there; I only expect he will show up. It seems silly really that I have such blind faith.

The breakfast rush is in full swing, making the deli crowded and noisy. There are few tables, eight to be exact, and a bar that seats ten. Every seat is filled. I stand in the doorway, waiting for an empty seat. My heart skips a beat when I realize he is already here. I didn’t notice him at first though he sits at a corner table in plain sight. There are two seats, he occupies one, a man with his back to me fills the other. Thomas meets my gaze and his magnetism pulls me forward.
God, don’t ask me to leave with you
.
I already promised Garrett I wouldn’t
,
and there’s been too many lies already.
The other man stands and leaves before I get halfway across the long room. He doesn’t go out the front, choosing to exit through a back door instead, and I never see his face completely. He could be any man for as much as he stands out.

The same cannot be said about Thomas.

He is the face you notice when you walk into a room, stunningly handsome. He is wearing his hair loose today and his long dark waves cascade over his shoulders. He is wearing a knit tam, the kind I’ve seen Jamaican musicians on the wharf wear, and round sunglasses. Torn and distressed jeans, a tie-dyed t-shirt, and a well-worn leather jacket complete his
look
. If this is his disguise, he needs to work on it. I would not mistake him for anyone other than Lord Fyre.

I take the seat opposite him and just stare at him a moment, wordless. I have so many questions, but none of them are important. He is okay, he is fine. That is what matters.

“Thank you for coming.”

“How is your brother?”

His eyes give away the emotion he is feeling. “He is alive.”

I nod, understanding. What else is there?

Condensation drizzles off the side of his untouched glass of water. It is obvious he has been here awhile and has not ordered. For a place so busy, I am surprised the waitress isn’t haranguing him. “How much did you bribe the waitress to leave you alone?”

His lips twitch. “No bribe. I tipped her when I sat.”

“Must have been a damn good tip.”

He laughs and the sound is good to hear.

His hands are hidden under the table, out of sight, reminding me of an old western and making me wonder if he has a gun trained on the front door. I reach across the Formica, hoping he will take the hint that I need to touch him. Leaving one hand hidden, he puts the other in mine and the solid warmth of his palm is a balm to my soul.

“I need you to run an errand for me.”

“There are a dozen people in this town you could ask favors of.”

“Not. This.”

His gaze holds mine an extra long minute, his intensity a worry. Wishing I could lie to him, I say, “I would do anything for you.”

Reaching inside his coat, he retrieves a checkbook, driver’s license, and social security card. Taking the items from him, I see the name on all three reads Blaire Harrington but it is my face on the license.
No. No, no, no, no, no! Do not ask me to runaway with you. Please.
My hand trembles as I look the items over. In addition, he hands me a business card advertising a real estate agent. It has her photo on it.

“I need you to meet with this real estate agent and buy a property. The address is noted on the back of the card.”

As if I don’t believe him, I turn the card over. An Artist District address is written in his hand. It can’t be more than a block or two from Lewd Larry’s.

“It’s a foreclosure. The asking price is nine hundred thousand.”

I look at him stupidly.

“Pretend to negotiate. Offer seven-fifty.” He assures me, “There’s more than enough money in the account to cover the full price, but I don’t want you to appear overly eager. The most important thing is to close the deal. All the paperwork can be taken care of in-house today. As soon as you have the keys, call me using this cell.” He hands me a phone. “It’s registered to Blaire, remember that. You are Blaire. The number I want you to use to contact me is programmed as
work
. Do you understand?”

“Tell me you don’t have time to explain all the cloak and daggers to me, Thomas, so that I can walk out of here and not look back.” Issuing what amounts to an ultimatum, my heart is pounding so hard I think it will explode. Is this his every day workday? Always pretending to be someone else?

“Nikos is going to need a safe place to live. No one looks at eccentric creative types too closely.”

I snort. “Is that what you think? Because
you
stand out, even in this getup.”

He smiles patiently. “Only
you
see
me
.”

I tap the business card on the tabletop nervously. I know the address. He’s right, eccentric about covers it.

“And…the sooner I have my brother established someplace safe, the sooner we can be together.”

“Do you think your cover here has been blown?” We’ve never discussed what he does for a living, and right now no one could convince me otherwise of my suspicions. Undercover cop. Spy. Assassin. Mercenary. He is something and to deny that would be ludicrous.

“It hasn’t.”

“Do you honestly believe I won’t be followed?”

“I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. Right now, no one is looking for Nikos in the United States. I want to make certain I have him well hidden if anyone ever does.”

I tuck all of the documents into my bag. “I can’t keep this a secret from Garrett.”

“You can. You must.”

I shake my head, not liking that he has put this responsibility on my shoulders. Garrett could have done this for him. George. The man who was just sitting here.
Unless he is testing me.
Why would he? I knew about Eva long before I ever admitted to him I did. I saw him with the senator I was never supposed to see him meeting. I didn’t mention it to anyone, surely to God he knows he can trust me. It suddenly dawns on me that he does, and right now he trusts me with his brother’s life.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

He squeezes my hand, but his eyes are sad. “Thank you.”

I am suddenly worried there is danger he isn’t admitting to. “Do not die, Thomas! I mean it.”

The look he gives me tells me how very much he loves me. “You, Garrett, and the new life you carry in your womb give me every reason I need to come home. Give me time to make certain no danger follows me.”

I am angry and upset. “I wish I could have gotten to Paris in time, maybe then, Eva would have never come here.”

“This has nothing to do with her.”

“You are changed.
We
are changed.”

He shakes his head in denial. “I promise, soon, everything will be as it was before.”

“How can you say that?” I demand, insisting, “Everything is different.”

“Do you love me?”

I gasp.
He knows I do. Why ask?
“Yes.”

“Then we will survive this. All of it.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, lingering. “I. Love. You. I’ll come
home
soon.”

Neither of us have to say it. We need each other. Now. Physical intimacy to seal the promise. When I am near him, I feel like an addict, or a horny adolescent. I don’t look over my shoulder when I stand and cross a small hallway to the ladies’ room, having no doubt he’ll follow. I don’t lock the door behind me. I just lean against the wall, waiting…

“Nay, call me not cruel, and fear not to take me, I am yours for my life-time, to be what you make me. To wear my white veil for a sign, or a cover, as you shall be proven my lord, or my lover.”

Alice Cary,
The Bridal Veil 1820-1871

Thomas

Sophia is so utterly beguiling; I don’t know how Garrett ever lets her out of his sight. The things I want to do to her would make grown men whimper, but when I whisper my interests in her ear she only blushes.

There is no time for such pleasures today, and so I push her back against the porcelain sink with its bare pipes, thinking…if only there was more time.

She surprises me, twisting her fingers into my hair and pulling my head down. She is rough and needy, making me crazed in response. Grabbing her hair, I keep her from kissing me, holding her so that our lips barely meet.

This is no kiss, this is torture…for us both.

Her breath fans over my face as she begs, “Please.”

She is dressed for a day at the office, skirt suit and heels. I imagine she is bare under the skirt, and I’m not disappointed when I run my hand up her silk-hose covered thigh, pushing up her tight pencil skirt, to find her wearing a garter belt but no panties. Grabbing her ass, I jerk her into me, leaving no doubt that this will head exactly where we both want it to when she feels my hard length pressed between us. “Is this what you want, baby?”

She tries harder to kiss me, but I jerk her hair, maintaining the distance between our mouths.

“God, yes. Fuck me.”

I kiss her then. Hard. It feels like my lips are bruising as I crush her mouth against mine. I need the pain, need the distraction, to slow things down, but it has the opposite effect and suddenly we are on each other like animals. Teeth colliding, tongues dueling.

I spin her around, so she is facing the sink and looking in the mirror. Her hair is mussed, her lips bright pink from the ferocity of our kiss.

I push her skirt higher, before unbuttoning and unzipping my pants.

Behind us the door knob jiggles, and she meets my gaze in the mirror with panicked eyes. She calls out, “Occupied,” as I lift her ass, spread her, and thrust deep into her pussy, making her voice sound slightly higher pitched and desperate. She looks surprised that I didn’t wait, and I chuckle against her neck before biting her shoulder.

I cup her mons, pressing her clit between the v of two fingers. She is bent over the sink, holding on to the porcelain lip. She is standing on her tiptoes even though she is wearing high heels. I ride her hard, making her gasp as her pelvis slams again and again into the sink. She is moaning already, and I cover her mouth with my hand. She bites my finger, saying, “God, oh God,” around my flesh.

She lifts her ass and pushes back into me, meeting my thrust, and I know I won’t last long but then we really don’t have time for more. I don’t slow my pace, meeting her again and again. Pounding her.

I know the second her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on my cock. I flush the toilet beside us to muffle my moan as I lose the thin hold I had on my own control.