A banging on the window drew his distracted gaze. A driver had gotten out of his vehicle and was now yelling and pounding on Bastien's door. He couldn't hear what the man was shouting-the honking from behind was too loud-but Bastien gathered the fellow wasn't happy with the holdup. He watched the man's mouth move for several minutes, then put the suggestion in his head to shut up and get back into his car. The moment the fellow did, Bastien eased his foot down on the gas pedal and set his Mercedes moving again.
The incident set his mind going in another direction. He had put the suggestion in the angry driver's mind without any effort. Could he control and read Terri's mind? If he could, she wasn't for him. It he couldn't… He'd have to wait till he got back to the penthouse to see.
Eager to get home, Bastien put on some speed, cursing the fact that Chris Keyes lived in Morning-side Heights in the Upper West Side, far from his own expensive area of town.
When he got there, Bastien found he didn't need the keys C.K. had given him. The door to the apartment was wide open. An old lady stood inside, hands on hips as she nattered at a pair of workers carting out chunks of plaster and wood-clearing away the rubble from the fallen ceiling, was Bastien's guess. He entered and approached the woman, presuming she was the landlady. Wasting a good deal of time, he tried to explain to her that he was there on Chris's behalf; then he got tired of reassuring her and slipped into her mind to suggest she not notice his presence at all. Bastien then had to do so with the two workmen as well before being free to move into the bedroom.
He should have done so in the first place, Bastien thought with irritation as he slipped out of the apartment several minutes later. He had a haphazard collection of clothes stuffed into a gym bag he'd found on the bedroom floor. Tossing the bag on the passenger seat of his car, he started the engine, then paused. The next stop on his list was to collect subs, but he had no idea where those would be sold. Bastien almost got out of the car to ask the nearest passerby where he could find a shop that sold subs, then changed his mind. He'd wait till he was closer to home to ask directions. If the subs were usually heated, which he suspected a meatball sub would be-and for all he knew Terri's assorted sub might be too-he didn't want them to be cold by the time he returned. They sounded disgusting enough without being presented cold.
Unfortunately, it appeared that sub shops were scarce in the elite section of the city that housed Argeneau Enterprises; and the directions Bastien eventually got made him backtrack quite a fair distance to find what he was looking for. It also appeared that such shops were quite popular, because the line inside was atrocious. Bastien was tempted to leap into people's minds to cut to the front of the line, but forced himself to be patient and wait like everyone else. This wasn't an emergency. He had no excuse for such manipulation.
Half an hour later, and well over two hours after he had set out, Bastien rode up the elevator to the penthouse suite, carrying the gym bag with the editor's clothes, and a paper bag holding three subs, plain chips, two bags of barbecue chips, two Dr Peppers, and a Canada Dry ginger ale. He'd double ordered Terri's selections, to give himself something to pick at so she wouldn't wonder why he wasn't eating.
"The conquering hero returns,"Vincent said as Bastien strode into the living room.
Bastien ignored him and focused his attention on his two charges instead, then gaped. "They're asleep!»
"Well, what did you expect?"his cousin asked in amusement. "You took forever. I've been back for an hour-and I was on foot and actually had to hunt down my meal, not pick it up from the corner sub shop.»
Bastien turned a suspicious glance his way. "You did feed outside? You didn't-?»
"No, I didn't bite your houseguests,"Vincent assured him, then gestured to the editor who was sound asleep in a sitting position, his head bobbing on his chest. "That one's sleeping thanks to his painkillers, I think. And Terri's had a terribly long day. And it is late.»
Bastien's gaze narrowed at the way Vincent's expression and voice softened. "It's only»-he lifted his watch to check-"nine.»
"Nine here, two in the morning in England,"Vinny pointed out.
"Oh yes."Bastien glanced from the sleeping woman to the bag of food in his hand. Despite how disgusting it sounded, the subs actually smelled good. "Do you think I should wake her up to eat?»
"No."His cousin shook his head. "She's been up since four A.M. England time.»
"Four A.M.?"Bastien asked in dismay. He set the bags down on the coffee table.
"Her flight left at ten. She had to check in three hours before that, and Huddersfield is more than an hour's drive from Manchester Airport. Between all of that and the seven-hour flight turning into a nine-hour one thanks to the delay in Detroit-not to mention the long drive into town-she's had a terribly long, wearying day. Best to let her sleep.»
"Hmmm."Bastien nodded in agreement, then scowled at Vincent. The man had obviously been talking to Terri before she'd drifted off. That annoyed him. "How long ago did she fall asleep?»
"About half an hour.»
He nodded. If Vincent had taken an hour finding his dinner, that meant he'd got to talk to Terri for around half an hour. Bastien couldn't decide if he was annoyed that the man had got to talk to her for that time, or pleased that his conversation hadn't been invigorating enough to keep her awake. Deciding that it didn't matter, he moved around the coffee table and carefully scooped the woman up in his arms.
"Going to tuck her in?"Vincent teased.
"She'll get a crick in her neck sleeping out here,"Bastien answered in a murmur. He carried her out of the room and down the hall. He managed to get the guest room door open, carry her inside, and set her on the bed without waking her up. Then he went to the master bedroom and tugged the comforter off the bed there to cover her with, rather than possibly wake her by trying to pull the duvet on her own bed out from under her. Once she was tucked in, he straightened and stared for a moment.
When awake, Terri Simpson seemed a curious bundle of contradictions: funny, kind, unconsciously sexy, yet with a wickedly mischievous sense of humor. Asleep she was pure innocence, her face soft and sweet. She appeared to be a lovely human being, both inside and out. It was rare for him to think so highly of a mortal, or anyone for that matter. Most people he met seemed greedy and grasping. He had learned over time that everyone has an agenda; the trick was discovering what it was.
But Bastien didn't see that in this woman. She had flown thousands of miles and given up her vacation to help Kate with the upcoming wedding. He hadn't known her long, but from what he had seen, Terri was happiest giving and she didn't expect or feel comfortable taking anything from others. Most people would have delighted in having these luxurious accommodations rather than Kate's lumpy old couch, yet this woman had been uncomfortable at the idea of staying here. And she hadn't been happy that Bastien wouldn't let her contribute to the pittance for the dinner she now wasn't going to eat. He would learn more in the days to come, but at the moment, it appeared that Bastien had finally met a woman he could like and respect-and not feel that she was out to get something from him.
Terri sighed and shifted on the bed, and Bastien smiled; then he blinked in surprise as a loud snore ripped through the room. He stared at her aghast, covering his mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to spill out. He backed quickly out of the room.
Well, Bastien thought as he pulled the door closed, no one was perfect. Chuckling openly, he walked back to the living room and took Terri's spot on the couch. It was still warm from her body, and he enjoyed the sensation before reaching for the food bag.
"What about him?"Vincent gestured to the sleeping editor as Bastien peered curiously into the bag of Subs.
"What about him?"Bastien pulled out one of the packages of barbecue chips and struggled with it briefly before managing to get it open.
"He'll get a crick in his neck, too, if you don't put him to bed,"Vincent pointed out.
Bastien shrugged. Peering inside the bag, he saw thin slices of cooked potato with a sprinkling of red seasoning. "So, he gets a crick. He should have taken himself to bed.»
Vincent chuckled, then gaped as Bastien took one chip out and bit cautiously into it. "What are you doing?»
"Trying the potato chips,"he stated as he chewed the brittle delectation and pushed it around inside his mouth so that he could get the full flavor. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. He didn't remember there being anything like this the last time he'd bothered with food.
"Dear God,"his cousin breathed.
"What?"Bastien peered over in question.
"You're eating."Vincent stared in amazement, then added, "Food. You must be in love.»
Bastien swallowed, and gave a bark of laughter. "Being in love isn't like being pregnant, Vincent. We don't eat when we're in love.»
"Every one of us I know that has fallen in love has started eating again,"his cousin said grimly.
Bastien considered as he swallowed, then popped another chip into his mouth. Lissianna had eaten. He wasn't sure about Etienne, but he knew Lucern was eating again. His chewing slowed, but then he shook his head and forced himself to relax. He'd only met the woman today. He couldn't be in love. Deeply in like, maybe, but not in love. And two chips did not really translate to "eating»-at least, not in his book.