The car bumped into a small building that served as Christian's garage. He had mentioned to me earlier, on the way to dinner, that the only time he kept a driver was in London. He said something about the annoying lack of available parking. It seems Dark Ones have issues with parking lots. He helped me out of the car with a solicitous arm, Guarda following behind as we crossed the small alley separating the garage and his house. I looked up to the top of the three-story building.
Big house for just one guy.
I require both space and privacy in my living quarters.
Don't worry; you'll have both just as soon as Guarda leaves and I can slip back to my hotel.
There are always exceptions to be made in times of necessity.
I glanced over at him as he held the door open for me, wondering if he meant what I thought he'd meant.
I refused to be swept up in his arms and carried up the stairs to the bedroom. "No, lamby-pot-pie, it's much better if I walk. Slowly. It serves to settle my nerves."
You realize, of course, that lamby-pot-pie constitutes a declaration of war.
I gave him a mental snort, just to see if I could do it. Evidently I could.
"As you desire, most beauteous of all lotus blossoms. If you will take my arm, I will allow your nerves to settle and yet reassure both myself and Mrs. White that you will not come to any harm in your journey up the stairs."
Have you ever thought of going into politics? You're a natural.
Guarda followed us into a huge room done all in shades of sapphire and midnight. A massive curtained and canopied bed dominated the room, drawing the eye and refusing to release it. I stood stupidly and blinked at it a few minutes, wondering if it felt as heavenly as it looked.
Perhaps you will find out for yourself. Christian's voice danced in my head.
I ignored him and tottered over to sink down in a blue silk-draped armchair. "Thank you so much for accompanying us home, Mrs. White. I feel much better just being out of that building. I'm so very excited about the plans you have for the trust. Might I pop in for a visit tomorrow and have a chat about what you see for the future, and how I might fit into it?"
Guarda's smile didn't even come close to reaching her icy blue eyes. "Of course. There is nothing I would like more. Just give me a ring at that number, and my secretary will set up a time." She handed me a card. I smiled at her. Christian raised an eyebrow. She looked as if she wanted to say something further, but realized that to do so wouldn't be in keeping with her pretended concern. "Well, then, I shall leave you alone so you might rest."
"You may be assured that I will see to it that my little kumquat spends the entire night in bed," Christian said with a smoothness that put the silk bed hangings to shame.
You and what army?
"Oh, you silly Mr. Fuzzy-wuzzy," I chirped in return, making myself faintly nauseated in the process.
Guarda looked between the two of us, then nodded her head and allowed Christian to escort her out of the room and, I assumed, the house.
As soon as the bedroom door closed, I leaped out of the chair and commenced pacing and hand wringing, ignoring the great behemoth bed and all that it represented. Christian, I knew, was planning a seduction. It was in every warm caress of his mind against mine, every touch of his body to mine, every sultry-eyed, heated glance. What was worse was that after the kiss that ended with me almost sucking the tongue from his head, I could no longer trust myself to stay calm and cool, as I had been with every other man. Somehow more than just my mental guards failed me when it came to Christian. All my honorable intentions, all my determination never again to let a man have any part of me, just seemed to evaporate under of the influence of those dark, tortured eyes.
The solution to my problem, I decided a few moments later, was to not let myself be alone with him. If he did what I expected him to do—insisted I remain in his house for the evening—I was in grave danger of succumbing to the siren lure of his desire. Therefore, I simply wouldn't put myself in a position where temptation could raise its ugly head.
By the time Christian returned to his room, I was talking with Jem while trying to keep an eye on Alis.
"So you were a waiter in a restaurant? How very interesting. Did you enjoy your job?"
"Not likely," the sullen teenager snapped. "Why'd that man at t'other place 'ave bits an' bobs stabbed through 'is face, then? Was 'e wiv one o' them travelin' shows?"
I smiled brightly at Christian's frown before turning back to the ghost. "You mean the man in the black T-shirt with his eyebrow and nose pierced? That is a fashion common today amongst young people, particularly young people who are rebelling against conformity and society."
Jem didn't look like he believed me. I smiled again. "In other words, he was thumbing his nose at everyone in authority."
"Oh, aye." He nodded, and his spotty face lost a bit of its sullenness as he thought this over.
Christian strolled over to me with the grace of a panther who has spotted a particularly succulent bit of prey.
A comparison more apropos than you know, malý váleèník.
I ignored his silky voice in my head as I turned to him. "You don't happen to speak Welsh, do you? Alis seems to be rather uncommunicative, and refuses to answer me when I try to ask her if she'd like to be Released. I think she's trying to summon enough psychic energy to push over that blue-and-white vase. She seems to be particularly angry at it."
Christian paused long enough to cast a quick glance over to where the squat little woman was standing with her hands on her plentiful hips, nose to rim with a Chinese vase. His eyes turned back to me, and he started forward with a look that raised every hair on my neck.
"No, I do not speak Welsh. Do your inhibitions regarding voyeurism include spirits?"
I started backing up and nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, they do. So if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you can think again. You couldn't possibly wish to damage my psyche by kissing me or… or… anything else in front of them. I'd never forgive you."
"Then I advise you to bind them to your keepers in the next thirty seconds."
"Ye don't 'ave to do nuffin' for me. I'm goin' t' 'ave me a look around town an' see 'ow it's changed." With those words, Jem stuck his head through the wall so he could see the street below.
I looked from him to Christian, then made a break for the door, but he moved faster than I could see and had me pinned up against the wall before I could blink. He looked deep into my eyes and let me see every emotion he was feeling at that moment. Then he slipped into my head and fed me images of exactly what he was planning to do.
To me.
All evening.
My knees buckled. "Christian, I can't, really I can't. That's not to say I don't want to, although part of me thinks it's really a bad idea because there's no future for us, and I will admit the rest of me is in the agreeable camp, but I can't."
Jem sniggered. I glared at him until he stuck his head through the wall again. Alis ignored us and started screaming at the vase.
"You can." Christian's eyes were hot enough to steam drapes. I swallowed hard and tried to remember why I couldn't give in to the demands of my body. Control, that was it. I couldn't give up control. Not even for what promised to be a night of extreme, never-ending pleasure would I give that up.
If we can do this without your giving up control, will you allow me to love you?
His breath was on my lips as he pressed me against the wall, his body hard and aggressive and, if the pressure against my groin was anything to go by, extremely aroused. Could I share myself if it meant I didn't give up control?
Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! screamed my body.
He's a man, and all men are fiends, shouted the wounded part of my mind.
It came down to whether or not I trusted him. Would he respect my needs and not strip control from me, or would he lose himself in the endless desire I felt stirring him, blinding him to his promise?
I stared into his eyes, a heated, burning red-brown, and hesitated. Christian was absolutely still, not touching me with his mind, his body solid and warm, but undemanding against me. He was letting me make the choice unswayed by lust and desire and all of the other erotic emotions I knew he could rouse with just the merest touch of his lips.
Could I trust him? I'd never trusted another man. Was he so different that I could trust him?
I took a deep, admittedly shaky breath, ignoring the delightful sensation of my breasts pressed up against his chest. "If you can promise me you won't try to control me, then yes, I would like to see just how comfortable your bed is."
Jem, watching us with a sneer universal to teenagers throughout the ages, snorted and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Alis flung herself into the middle of the vase and jumped up and down.
We ignored them both.
A slow, seductive smile curled Christian's lips. I will never ask you to do anything against your desire. If you are uncomfortable with anything we do, you simply need ask me to stop and I will. That I promise you.
My body sent up a silent cheer of victory as I slipped out of Christian's embrace and gathered up the two keepers. "Jem, Alis, time to go nighty-night. I'm going to be…" I glanced over my shoulder at Christian. The look in his eyes made my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. "Busy for a bit," I croaked.
Christian smiled as the ghosts shimmered, then disappeared, his smile turning positively wicked as he stalked toward me.