Читать книгу Blue Twilight - Maggie Shayne - Страница 12

Lou didn’t follow Max to the kitchen right away. He didn’t like the way Stormy looked: pale, shaky, shielding her eyes with a hand, as if the light of the computer monitor was too bright to bear.

Except for the kitchen, every other room in the place was cluttered with still-packed boxes and crates. Not this one, though. It was huge, fireplace on the far wall, French doors with the small patio just beyond, overlooking the rolling lawn all the way to the cliffs and the sea far below. It held two desks, though they’d all been gathered around one. The second one faced it from the opposite side of the fireplace. Its surface was still empty. No computer, no phone.

On the wall was a large oil painting of Max’s twin sister, Morgan, and her beloved Dante. She wore a scrap of gossamer with thin straps, and sat in a fur-covered chair with her legs folded beneath her. He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. Lou got lost while staring at the portrait for just a moment. Morgan’s facial structure, her deep-set green eyes, coppery-red hair and her smile—so much like Maxie’s. And yet she was pale, had been even before the change. Skin like porcelain. Hair straight and sleek. A body so waif-thin he wondered if she actually cast a shadow. Not that she would be spending any time in the sun from now on. She was frail. A hothouse orchid. Max was a wild rose. Tough, thorny, strong.

“Hard to believe they’re twins, isn’t it? I can’t think of two women more different,” Stormy said, looking over his shoulder.

“I was thinking the same.” He dragged his gaze from the portrait to Stormy. “You all right?”

“I’ll be fine. I just … I hate waiting.”

“You’re exhausted. Why don’t you get some sleep? Give yourself a break.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I will.” She hit the keys that would shut down the computer, then slid out of her chair as the machine whirred and clicked and finally went dark. “So I take it you’re staying over?”

“Max isn’t giving me much choice.” He drew a breath, sighed deep and long. “My bag still in your car?”

“Nope. I brought it in.” She reached under the desk and hauled out the black satchel. “Are you mad?”

“Hell, what’s to be mad about? Even smuggling my bag couldn’t force me to stick around with you two if I didn’t want to.” He shook his head. “Max thinks she’s playing me, but I’m only here because I want to be.”

“She’d sure love to hear that.”

“No way. I’m not giving her any more ammo to fire at my head.”

“I’ve got news for you, Lou. It’s not your head she’s firing at.” She studied him, tilted her head to one side. “How do you feel about her, anyway?”

“How do I … feel about her?” He shrugged, averting his eyes. “I like her. I’ve always liked her.”

“As a friend?”

He shrugged. “More like a guardian.” Stormy’s eyebrows shot up so high he thought he must have shocked her, so he tried to explain. “I always feel as if she needs looking after, you know? She tends to just charge headlong, straight into trouble, without thinking first.”

“So you see yourself as her … protector.”

“That’s one way to put it. Sure.”

“Like a big brother,” Stormy said.

“More like an uncle. I’m too old to be her brother.”

Stormy put a hand on his shoulder. “Lou, she doesn’t want you to be her uncle. You do realize that, don’t you?”

He frowned at her. “Oh, come on. You’re not telling me you take all her teasing and flirting seriously, are you?”

“Don’t you?”

“Not on your life. She’s half my age.”

“Twenty-six is not half of forty-four.”

“Close enough.”

“That’s bullshit. What’s the real issue here, Lou?”

He met her eyes, then had to avert his because she was probing a little too deeply. “This is getting kind of personal, Stormy. If you don’t mind …”

“Nope. Don’t mind a bit. I’m going up to bed, but I’m setting my alarm. I want us to get an early start.” She picked up his bag and swung it into his chest. “And just in case you didn’t notice, Lou, there’s room in this office for another desk. Hell, that spot over there almost looks bare without one. Don’t you think?”

He looked where she was looking, at a large, vacant section of the room. “You’ll find something to put there.”

“Or someone. ‘Night, Lou.”

“Good night.”

She left. Lou didn’t waste a hell of a lot of time wondering where she got her crazy ideas. Instead, he wandered through the vast house, crossing the dramatic formal dining room, heading all the way to the kitchen in the rear of the mansion. Maxie was sitting on a stool at the pink marble island, scarfing down a slice of cold pizza. For a second he marveled that anyone could look as good as she did while chewing. And then he stared a little longer, mentally contrasting her with her wisp of a sister. Where Morgan was whisper-thin, Max was curvy. He didn’t often allow himself to think about her breasts, but they were nice ones. Full, rounded, bouncy. Her waist was little, and the curve of her hips just right. She had a round backside that filled out a pair of jeans in the nicest possible way. Her skin was pink, and her hair thick and riotously curly.

Her attitude matched her looks. She was feisty, impulsive, fun-loving, restless.

Stormy was right. Two women couldn’t be more different.

She turned and caught him looking, swallowed her latest mouthful and sent him a smile.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll check the locks before I go up, make sure the place is all buttoned up. Thought I’d say good night.”

She eyed the bag in his hand. “So you meant what you said to Jason on the phone? You’re sticking with us for this one?”

“Looks like.”

“I’m so glad.” She hooked her foot around the stool next to her own and pulled it out. “Sit. You want a piece?”

“No thanks, I’ve had enough pizza.”

“Who said I was talking about pizza?” She sent him her trademark smile, full of mischief and danger.

He sighed, nodded. “Fine. I’ll sit. I need to talk to you, anyway.”

“‘Bout what?” she asked.

He sighed as he lowered himself onto the stool. “The truth is, kid, I want to go with you to Endover. I like working with you, and I’m scared shitless to think what kind of trouble you might get yourself into without me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your faith in me is overwhelming.”

He lowered his head, searching for the right words. “The thing is, while I like working with you and I want to watch out for you, I don’t like some of the things you do.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“No. Now, don’t go getting all hurt and wounded on me, hon, but—”

“Ooooh,” she said, drawing the sound out into a sexy purr. “I just love when you call me ‘hon.’” As she said it, she leaned closer, so her breath warmed his neck.

Lou shot to his feet, slammed his palms on the marble. “Goddammit, Max, that’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She jumped and stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Look, this isn’t easy for me. It’s goddamn embarrassing, as a matter of fact, but I don’t know how to do this except to just come right out with it. I’m not a gelding, Maxie. I’m not a monk. When you play those games with me, I react, okay? My body—reacts. I’m a healthy, red-blooded man. I’m not too old to feel …” He let his words trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Lou?”

“I need you to stop, Max.”

She blinked at him.

He was sure he’d just fallen off whatever pedestal she’d placed him on. God, to confess to having sexual thoughts about her—sexual desire for her—it was mortifying. He wouldn’t blame her if she threw him out of here once she had time to digest his words, to understand what they implied. “I’m going to bed,” he told her. “I just … had to get that said.” He turned and walked away. “If you still want me to come with you in the morning, I will.”

“Lou?”

He stopped, but he didn’t turn to face her.

“You’ve got it all wrong, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Good night, Max.”

Maxie paced her bedroom most of the night. Hell, she’d been nuts about Lou since her first year of college, when she’d taken a self-defense class he’d taught. But she’d kept her flirting minimal back then. Since he’d come back into her life, she’d turned it up several notches.

But she hadn’t realized until now how her efforts were being received.

There was a tap on her door. She hurried to yank it open, half expecting to find Lou there, ready to admit defeat and sweep her into his arms for a passionate kiss.

Instead Stormy was standing on the other side, framed by an elaborately tooled, walnut-stained casing.

She took one long look at Max’s face and said, “Lou talked to you, didn’t he?”

“How did you know?”

“Told me he was going to. Then I heard you pacing. Slamming doors or drawers or whatever. Figured I’d better come in before you broke something.” She smiled, a teasing sort of almost-grin. “So what did he say?”

Max pursed her lips. “He claims to think I’ve just been teasing him, that I see him as harmless. A gelding. He actually used that word.”

Stormy sighed, crossing the room and hopping onto the foot of the giant four-poster bed, where she folded her legs underneath her and sank into the softness of high-piled mattresses and bedding. “So, did you set him straight?”

“I was just so stunned. I mean, he caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to say. Hell, I still don’t.” Max padded across the thick carpet to stand at the French doors, where she stared outside at the stars, twinkling from a velvet canopy of midnight-blue sky.

“Well, clearly you have to tell him you’ve never thought of him as a gelding. I mean, if he really believes that, it can’t be good for his ego.”

Max gnawed her lip for several seconds. “I know what I ought to do. I ought to put on that black teddy and march right into his bedroom and show him just how serious I am.”

She strode away from the gorgeous view, yanked open the top drawer of the dresser that took up fully half of one wall and pulled out the teddy. A crescent-shaped mirror framed in scrolled wood was mounted to the dresser, and she held the teddy to her chest and stared at her reflection.

“You sure that won’t send him running back to White Plains at the speed of sound, Max?”

Max frowned and licked her lips. “I can’t have him thinking what he’s thinking.”

Stormy slid off the bed, came behind her and put a firm hand on her shoulder. “I have my doubts he really believes any of that crap, anyway. Deep down, I mean.”

“Then why would he…?”

“Maybe it’s just easier that way,” Stormy said. “Telling you to stop teasing him is way easier than telling you to stop wanting him, don’t you think?”

Max turned slowly. “You think he knows I’m serious, and just … isn’t interested?”

“I know it’s a possibility you’ve never considered, hon, but don’t you think you have to?”

“But … but how could he not want me?” She blinked away the stupid, ridiculous moisture that had gathered in her eyes.

Stormy squeezed her shoulder. “Might not be about you. Might be about him.”

“Now you sound like a goddamn man.” Maxie crammed the teddy back into the drawer, then slammed it closed.

“Look, Max, you know the age difference bugs him.”

“That’s an excuse, not a reason. It’s only eighteen years.”

Stormy shrugged. “He’s been married before. Maybe he was burned so bad he’s sworn off women forever.”

Max paced the bedroom. “Okay, that could be a possibility. At least that’s within the realm of reason.”

Stormy nodded. “You know anything about the wife? What went wrong? “

Max shook her head. “He never talks about it. If I ask, he changes the subject.” “See? Doesn’t that sort of prove it was bad?” “Maybe it just proves he doesn’t want to talk about it. The question is, what am I supposed to do next?” Max stopped pacing, spun to face Stormy. “How can I overcome whatever it is that’s keeping him from even thinking about me as a—a love interest?”

Stormy blinked slowly. “Because giving up is not an option, right, Max? “

“Of course it’s not an option. Lou is mine.” Max paced across the room in one direction, then turned and started back again. “He’s meant for me. I’m certainly not going to let a little thing like his unwillingness to cooperate get in the way of that.” She stood still and smiled then. “Now that I think about it, he basically admitted to wanting me, too. He said I had to stop because he was a normal red-blooded man, and that his body reacts to my flirting.”

Stormy sighed. “I suppose he might really believe you aren’t serious about him, and that would make him feel guilty for having feelings for you.”

“Well, I’ll get that out of the way first and proceed from there.”

“Have you decided how you’re going to get it out of the way?”

Max eyed the dresser drawer. “I suppose the teddy’s out of the question?”

“I think if you show up in his bedroom wearing that teddy, he’ll be gone when we get up in the morning. The man’s gun-shy.”

Max sighed. “I suppose I could just tell him.”

“That might be best.”

The vampire’s mind was his most powerful tool. He knew that others of his kind shared many of the same abilities—to control the mind of another, to communicate without speaking, to hear private thoughts, to invade dreams, to enslave. But none, to his knowledge, had honed those skills to the degree he had.

The woman, for example.

She wasn’t even here, not yet. She was somewhere to the north, asleep in her bed. But he could reach her, even there. He would reach her…

He stared at the photograph on the glossy flyer. Stared into the eyes that were, he reminded himself, the wrong color. He probed and sought, and, eventually, he felt her. She was there, far away, but he could touch her.

He slipped inside her mind. She felt him there, stirred in her sleep.

Who are you? he whispered, and his mind searched hers for answers. Tell me who you are.

He didn’t expect the question to generate the violent response it did. He felt a struggle as she searched her mind for the correct reply. There was a tearing, a tug-of-war going on, as if for control.

I am—

No! I am—

Get out. Leave me alone, dammit!

Never!

Help me. God, Jesus, help me—what’s happening to me?

Tears. He heard and felt them. Racking her. Quaking through her.

Just let go. Let go and let me—

“Nooooooo!”

The shriek was so pain-filled, so desperate, he withdrew immediately, then sat very still, holding his head in his hands. Maybe he had made a terrible mistake in seeing to it the woman came to him here. She was not, he realized, entirely sane.

Lou felt like slime. He’d hurt Max’s feelings, he knew that. And he’d probably convinced her he was just like every other man she’d ever known in the process. He’d always loved that she saw him differently. That she trusted him when she didn’t trust many of the others. That she felt safe around him.

He hoped he hadn’t blown that.

He couldn’t sleep. He’d tried a cold shower, then a hot one. He’d stripped down to his shorts and T-shirt, and pulled on a robe over them just in case she came wandering in wanting to talk to him. Though he doubted she would. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to make things okay between them again.

He was still pacing the floor when he heard the scream.

Max!

He flung his bedroom door open and ran to hers, whipped it open as well without knocking, and strode inside, ready to do battle.

Max wasn’t in her bed. The bathroom door was open, and a light shone and music wafted from within, so he lunged inside.

Maxine lay in the giant sunken tub that sat at the top of a dais in the room’s center, with three ceramic-tiled steps going up to it on each of the four sides. He’d come to a stop on the second step, his eyes riveted to the tub. It was full of steaming water. And Max was sound asleep inside. The water was clear. Not cloudy, no bubbles. She lay there, knees bent slightly and rocked over to one side. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drinking their fill. Her breasts, small, round, perfect, just beneath the water. Her smooth torso and soft belly, and the sleek curve of her hip and rounded buttocks.

The sight of her crawled into every crevice of his mind, burning her image there. He felt as if his muscles had turned molten. God, she was beautiful.

Then the scream came again, louder this time, jerking him out of his trancelike state. Not Max, his mind told him. Stormy.

Max’s eyes flew open at the sound, met his, widened.

He ran down the steps, snatched the robe that hung from the back of the door and tossed it in her direction. “It’s Stormy. Something’s wrong.” Then he turned and ran from the room and down the hall to Stormy’s.

Max sprinted down the hall, damn near slipping because of her wet feet. She tied the robe as she ran and burst into Stormy’s room to see Lou leaning over her bed, his hands on her shoulders.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Max shouted.

Both Lou and Stormy looked at her. Stormy said, “Bad dream.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t make any sense.” She sat up in the bed, pushed her hands through her short blond hair. “There were all these voices, one asking me who I was. Another trying to answer for me. I felt like my head was going to split open.”

“Are you okay?” Max moved to the other side of the bed and stroked Stormy’s hair.

“I’m fine. But it hurt so much in the dream. And once it started, the splitting just kept going—tearing my body in half, splitting my head down the middle, and then my chest, my heart, my belly. I couldn’t stop it. It was so real, Max, this sense of being torn in half.”

Max frowned at her. “Are you in any pain now? Your head, is it …?”

“No, no pain. It was all part of the dream, I swear. I’m fine.”

Max took her hands. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”

Stormy’s eyes widened and met hers.

“Something’s different—since the coma. Something’s wrong, Storm, and it’s about time you come clean about it.”

Stormy shook her head slowly. “Never could fool you, could I?”

“So what is it?”

“I don’t know. I just know I don’t feel the same.”

“That’s not an answer,” Max said.

Stormy rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. “It’s the only one you’re getting tonight. I’ll be okay. Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure? I can sit with you if you—”

“Lou, make her go to bed, will you?” Stormy muttered, snuggling more deeply into her pillows.

She looked fine, Max had to admit. And it didn’t seem there was a damn thing she could do for her friend, anyway. She sent Lou a helpless look. He only shrugged, then leaned over to pull Stormy’s blanket up over her shoulder. “Call if you need us,” he said.

“I will.”

He nodded at Max, and they both left the room. In the hallway, she looked up at him. He licked his lips and averted his eyes. “I’m sorry about busting into your room. When I heard her scream, I thought—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.”

She reached out to him, closed her hand around one of his and then studied it as her thumb ran over his knuckles. “I gotta tell you, Lou, it does me a world of good to know you’d come on a dead run if I were to cry out in the night.”

“I know.”

She nodded. “I’m scared to death there’s something wrong with Stormy. Something big. Major, you know? And no matter what you say, I know I’m right about that. That’s topmost on my mind right now. You catching a glimpse of me in the bathtub is barely a blip on my radar compared to my worry about her.”

He nodded. “I think you’re overreacting.”

“So what’s new? You always think I’m overreacting.”

He sighed, lowering his head.

“Even so, Lou, the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end over this is having you here. Knowing you’ve got my back even if you don’t agree with me. You’ll hold me together if I start to fall apart. I trust you like no one else. I trust you with my life. And with Stormy’s. And I can’t even tell you how glad I am that you’re coming with us tomorrow. Because I’ve got a bad, bad feeling about all this.”

He turned his hand in hers and squeezed. “You, too, huh?”

She met his eyes. “Yeah. Why? Don’t you feel good about it, either? “

“I don’t know why, but my gut’s telling me we’re walking into the lion’s den.”

He sighed. “If I thought I had a snowball’s chance in hell of talking you out of going down there, I’d try. But I know you too well.”

She nodded.

He released her hand. “We should get some sleep. Get an early start.”

“Yeah. Just … one more thing first.”

He looked down at her. She swallowed hard and gathered up her courage—drew it straight up from her ovaries, she thought. “I never thought of you as a gelding, Lou. I don’t believe for one minute you’re too old to react to a little flirting.”

She watched his brows go up. He seemed to be searching for words, so she shook her head. “I’m not trying to put you on the spot for a response to any of that. I just—I thought you needed to know.”

With a firm nod, she turned and walked down the hall to her bedroom and just left him standing there.