"But-"
"No buts. You're my guest,"he said firmly. He turned away to bring an end to the discussion, and his gaze landed grimly on Keyes. Bastien immediately pulled out the small notepad and pen he always carried around in his pocket for just such occasions and handed them over. "Write down your address and give me your keys, and I'll pick you up some clothes while Vincent and I are out collecting dinner."It wasn't a request.
"You!"He turned on his cousin as C.K. set to work. "Vincent, get that damned cape off and get ready to go out.
"And you-" His attention shifted to Terri, but one glimpse of her soft eyes and even softer-looking lips made his businesslike attitude disappear. A smile curved his lips again, and his voice was noticeably gentler as he said, "Just sit down and relax, Terri. I'll be back soon with dinner.»
Then he took the notepad, pen, and keys the editor was holding out, grabbed his now capeless cousin by the arm, and escorted him determinedly to the elevator.
"I think he likes you.»
Terri glanced toward Chris Keyes as the elevator doors closed on her host and his cousin. "What?"she asked in surprise.
"Well, he certainly treats you nicer than the rest of us.»
Terri ignored the comment. The man was shifting about on the couch again, looking pained. "Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"she asked.
"No. Well, if you wouldn't mind? Another pillow under my leg might help until the painkillers kick in. Thanks for the water, by the way.»
"No problem."Terri grabbed another cushion off the couch and set it under his cast on the coffee table. "Better?»
"Not really, but it will have to do.»
She bit her lip at the surly comment. Men were such babies when sick or injured. "I'm just going to go to my room to start unpacking,"she announced, turning toward the hall. "Shout if you need me.»
"Do you think they have a television in this place?»
Terri paused at the hall and turned slowly, her gaze moving around the room. She didn't see a television. But there was a remote control on the coffee table by C.K.'s cast-encased foot. Walking back to him, she picked it up and looked it over with mounting confusion. There were more buttons on the thing than there were keys on a computer keyboard, and all of them with incomprehensible short forms and symbols. Two of them said TV, but with differing symbols beneath. Terri chose the first, and glanced around with a start as a soft whirring issued from the opposite wall. Her eyebrows rose as she watched a portion of wall slide upward to reveal a large television.
"Voila,"she said, with more relief than cheer. She hit the second button, and the television clicked on. Glad to have solved the problem, Terri handed the remote to C.K. and turned to leave the room, grateful when she managed to escape without being called back again.
She found her room without difficulty, and closed the door behind her with a small sigh. None of this was going as she'd expected. Terri had imagined spending this first night on the couch in Kate's cozy little apartment, sharing a bowl of popcorn as the two of them laughed and giggled over past events and planned out the wedding. In fact, she'd rather looked forward to it. Terri had also expected to live out of her suitcase for two weeks, sleeping on Kate's lumpy old couch, and spending her time running around doing last-minute errands in her cousin's stead.
Instead, here she was in this huge, gorgeous bedroom in the Argeneau penthouse suite, with drawers for her clothes, her own bathroom, a huge TV, and nothing to do. Terri supposed it was almost shameful to complain, but she'd rather looked forward to the way she'd imagined the trip.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her carry-on and walked to the door Bastien had said led to the bathroom. Terri opened it and stepped inside. It was as lovely as the bedroom, of course-large, luxurious, and all hers. Her gaze drifted over the tub, the shower, the potted plants, the wicker chair, the double sink, then to the door opposite the one she'd entered. Curious, she set her bag on a corner of the large vanity and walked over to open it.
Terri's eyebrows lifted at the sight before her. She'd thought her room large and gorgeous? This bedroom had to be the master suite. There was a huge king-size bed, antique by her guess, with four corner posts, an overhead awning, and heavy dark drapes that could be pulled closed around it. All the other furniture looked antique too, drawers, armoires, table and chairs, sofa and stuffed chairs. The room was bigger than her entire cottage back in Huddersfield, England.
After hesitating on the threshold, Terri braved entering, feeling like a thief. It was possible that this was Marguerite Argeneau's room. After all, Vincent had said it was actually Bastien's mother's apartment. If it was her room, then it was unoccupied at the moment, which would ease some of Terri's guilt about allowing her curiosity such free rein.
There were three doors leading off the master bedroom. Curious to know where they went, Terri moved to the first and opened it. The hallway. She closed it quickly and moved to the next door, which revealed a huge walk-in closet. Every stitch of clothing inside was male. There were suits mostly, with a couple of more casual clothes to break up the monotony. Chinos, cords, casual tops and sweaters. There were no jeans though, she noticed.
It was Bastien's room, then. Terri started to pull the closet door closed, only to pause as her gaze landed on a tall metal stand in the far back corner.
Terri's deceased husband, Ian, had spent a lot of time in the hospital during the battle against Hodgkin's disease that eventually claimed him. But he'd also spent a lot of time at home. At first, Terri had thought it important to keep him home to keep his spirits high and help him fight the illness. Once she'd finally gotten through the denial phase, and accepted that he wouldn't survive, she'd been determined to make his life as happy, normal and comfortable as possible. He'd died at home, with herself, his brother Dave and Dave's wife, Sandi, in attendance. Terri was very familiar with medical paraphernalia thanks to that period of her life. She recognized an IV stand when she saw one. And there was no reason on earth that she could think of for Bastien to have one here.
Then she recalled that this was really his mother's room, and that his father was dead. Kate had never said how the senior Argeneau had passed on. Now Terri suspected it may have been in a manner similar to her own mother's death, and Ian's, which had been slow, lingering, and painful. It was an unpleasant thing to think about, and none of Terri's business-until and unless Bastien told her. But then, this room wasn't any of her business either. She was being snoopy.
Terri pulled the door closed and hesitated, torn between stopping and leaving or continuing her snooping. The fact that there was only one door left to look behind decided it: She'd gone this far, she might as well just peek through the last door before going back to her own room.
A gasp of amazement slid from her lips as she did. Beyond lay a bathroom bigger even than the bedroom she'd been given. "Luxurious"did not describe it; even "opulent"was a poor description. Toilet, bidet, sinks, shower, and Jacuzzi-all were done in white, with gold accessories. And the gold looked real to Terri. The floor was a rich black marble with gold and white shot through, and mirrors were everywhere. The room was positively decadent. And it raised possibilities in her mind that were even more wicked.
Terri pulled the door closed and made a beeline back into her own bathroom. It was only once she had that door safely closed behind her that she wondered why, since the master suite had its own bathroom, there was a connecting door to hers. It didn't bother her that the rooms were connected; she wasn't going to lock the door or anything. Her cousin would hardly leave her where she wasn't safe. She was just curious as to the reason for the connecting door.
Shrugging the question aside, Terri moved to the vanity and opened her case to begin unpacking.
"I don't know what the big deal is.»
"You cannot feed on my guests. Period,"Bastien said firmly. He'd been lecturing his cousin since the elevator doors had closed.
"You're so squeamish, Bastien."Vincent laughed. "I'd like to see you have to hunt your food the old-fashioned way like I do. It gets a bit tiring, you know. Constantly prowling around, looking for dinner.»
"Yes. I know. I did have to do it myself, if you'll recall,"Bastien said. "And I know it can be a bother, but still-no feeding on my guests. Now, be a good cousin and go find a snack to tide you over for the night. Not the people in my apartment.»
"Oh, fine,"Vincent agreed. He arched an eyebrow. "But first maybe I should help you order some takeout.»
"I can manage on my own, thank you,"Bastien replied. In his more than four hundred years of life, no one had ever before suggested that there was something he couldn't do. He'd been competent practically from birth.
"No?"Vincent asked lightly. "I bet you've never ordered takeout before. I doubt you've ever even had to deal with it. The closest you've probably ever gotten is asking your secretary to arrange catering for a business meeting.»
Vincent was right on the money, but Bastien kept his mouth shut, refusing to acknowledge it.
"Will you do McDonald's, Chinese, pizza, or subs?»
"What are subs?"Bastien was surprised into asking.
"Oh ho! You don't even know,"Vinny crowed.