by I. T. Lucas
Andrew pressed his thumb to the reader and a split second later the light turned on.
Nice, he was impressed. Well, too early to pound his chest and declare himself king of the elevators, he still needed to see if the thing would go where he told it to.
When the doors swished open, he stepped inside and glanced up—showing his face to the surveillance camera. If he were overstepping his bounds, the guys in security would tell him to get out.
The loudspeakers remained silent.
Still, he didn’t want to appear as if he was snooping around uninvited. Maybe he should stop by the lobby and check with the guys if it was okay.
But as he was about to press his thumb to the L button, the elevator lurched into motion and a moment later it came to a stop right where he wanted to go.
Probably the security guys’ work—overriding the elevator’s commands and bringing him up for a polite yet stern explanation of why he shouldn’t be using the thing without an invitation from one of the penthouse occupants.
Damn, they’d think he was spying and this little joyride would cause an incident.
The doors slid open.
“Oh, it’s you…” Amanda’s hand flew to her chest. “I’m sorry, Andrew, for a moment there, I thought you were Kian.” She blew out a breath and stepped in, pulling behind her a carry-on. A matching duffle bag was slung over her shoulder. “Are you going up to Kian and Syssi’s? Or going down to the underground? I must’ve hijacked you.”
Hell, this was awkward. What was he going to tell her?
“That’s okay, I just wanted to check if my thumbprint works on the penthouse elevator, but you beat me to it.”
Amanda smiled. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t, but go ahead, press away.” She moved aside.
“Thank you. Going up?”
“Where else? I just hope I can sneak into my apartment without bumping into Kian.”
Andrew arched a brow and leaned to press the button for the penthouse level.
“Here, give me your bag.” He lifted the thing off her shoulder and slung it over his. “So, you’re still avoiding him?”
Amanda sighed. “Yeah, I don’t want to see him, not yet.”
“No worries, he’s not here. He and Syssi are on a date—the same one they were supposed to have on the day her transition started and you got snagged—some fancy restaurant that one of your nephews runs. Syssi said he is going to help with the wedding menu. She wants to sample the dishes he suggested before finalizing it.”
“Well, good for them.”
Andrew detected the slight undertone of bitterness that she was working hard to hide. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“It’s complicated, and explaining would take a little longer than this ride.” She looked away, but he caught her grimace reflected in the mirror.
“How about we go to your place, sit down, and you tell me what’s on your mind? Sometimes, talking about it helps.” He held the elevator door from closing as Amanda rolled out her carry-on.
He still had time before he was supposed to show up at Bridget’s. Besides, if he arrived a little late, she’d understand—one of the advantages of dating a woman who wasn’t ruled by emotions.
As Amanda regarded him, her pinched brows and the tight line of her lips implied that it was a no. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk about it—with him—but didn’t want to offend him by refusing.
“I see that you’re not in the mood. We can catch up some other time.” He moved to step back inside the elevator.
“No, wait.” Amanda’s hand closed around his bicep. “It’s not that. It’s just that my mother is staying at my place and I’d rather have this talk without her running commentary. I love her dearly, but sometimes she’s just too much.”
Amanda was right, the Goddess’s overwhelming presence wasn’t conducive to a heart-to-heart convo that didn’t include her. “I know what you mean.”
“We can sneak into Kian’s.”
“You think he’ll be okay with us invading his home? And anyway, do you have a key?”
Amanda was already pulling the carry-on in a big arc as she turned toward the other door. “Okidu is probably home, and he won’t mind. But even if he isn’t, Kian leaves the door unlocked. It’s not like there is any chance of thieves making it up here unnoticed.”
She knocked once then tried the handle. Just as she’d anticipated, the door swung open.
“Come on.” She crossed into the living room, leaving her rolling suitcase by the door and heading for the bar.
Following Amanda’s example, Andrew dropped her shoulder bag next to the luggage.
“I’m mixing myself a screwdriver. What would you like?”
“Same.”
Amanda chuckled. “Earlier today, I was told by a surly Russian that a screwdriver is a pussy drink. I doubt she would’ve dared to say it to you.”
“Why? Do I look so tough?” Andrew took the drink Amanda handed him.
“Very.” She walked over to the sofa and plopped down—by some miracle not a drop of her drink spilling over.
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”
Definitely flattered.
Especially since his manliness had been put to the test by a tiny redhead and been found wanting.
Amanda shrugged. “I have a thing for tough guys, so coming from me it’s a compliment.”
Was she coming on to him? And if she was, what was he supposed to say? Thank you? Instead, he took a big gulp from his drink and avoided her eyes.
“Everything okay? You seem… well, uncomfortable—for lack of a better word—like something is bothering you.”
Yeah, time to fess up.
“You haven’t asked me what I’m doing here.”
Coward, just come out and say it.
Amanda arched a brow. “Okay… What are you doing here, Andrew?”
“Bridget invited me to a dinner date at her place.”
“Our Bridget? Oh, Andrew, that’s fantastic.” Amanda put her drink on the coffee table and clapped her hands. “Tell me all about it. I want to hear all the juicy, romantic details.”
Her eyes were sparkling with excitement as if he’d just told her the best of news as opposed to informing her that he was no longer vying for her affection.
Though truth be told, except for that first time they’d met in the restaurant, Amanda hadn’t responded to any of his suggestive hints. Since hooking up with the Doomer, she simply hadn’t been interested.
For a moment, Andrew experienced an ugly flare of jealousy. He was just too damn competitive to accept that he’d lost so handily to another man. Never mind that he already had come to the realization that Amanda wasn’t the one for him.
He shrugged. “Nothing to tell, really. One thing led to another, and she invited me to a home-cooked dinner. So, here I am, bearing gifts of chocolates and wine.” He lifted the grocery bag off the floor.
Amanda shook her head. “You men are hopeless. You can’t show up for a date with a brown bag from a supermarket.” She pushed up to her feet. “I’ll go check if Kian has something you can use. Though I doubt he does. Worst case, you can ditch the bag and just hold the stuff in your hands.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “Sit down, Amanda. I don’t need anything fancy. It’s not that kind of a date.”
“Oh.” Her face fell and she sat on the sofa, then reached for her drink.
“So, tell me, where did you run off to?”
“I borrowed a boat from a friend.” She snorted at his surprised expression. “Not a fishing boat, a yacht with a crew.”
He chuckled. “That’s more like you.”
“I needed time to figure things out. Sort my feelings for Dalhu.” She sighed. “Not that it helped, much. I’m still having trouble deciding what I’m going to do about it.”
“Lay it on me.”
She scrunched her nose. “You sure? I know that you have something going on with Bridget no
w, but for a time you seemed interested in me, and I don’t know if you’re up to hearing about Dalhu and me. I don’t want you to feel awkward.”
“I was. Interested, that is. In fact, I was more than interested.” He chuckled nervously. It wasn’t something he was comfortable admitting. But if he expected her to open up and tell him private things, it was only fair for him to do the same—even if it came at the expense of his macho image.
“You are an exquisite woman, Amanda, but I’m ashamed to admit that this wasn’t the only reason I was obsessed with you.” He rubbed his palm over the back of his neck. “The truth is that I am an extremely competitive guy, and I just couldn’t bear to lose you to Dalhu. Especially since I truly believed I was the better choice for you. I couldn’t understand your infatuation with him. I thought, same as everyone else did, that your feelings weren’t real, that they were the result of a stressful situation and your survival instinct prompting you to gain the affection of your kidnaper.”
“What caused you to change your mind?”
“Dalhu.” Andrew finished his drink and got up to refill his glass.
“What do you mean?”
Andrew poured himself more vodka, omitting the orange juice this time. “You want the short version or the long one?”
“What do you think? Of course, I want the long one.”
He sat down next to her. “Kian wanted me to be there while he interrogated Dalhu—mainly because of my lie detecting skills, but also to help with the questioning.” Andrew took a small sip of the vodka. Not very manly, true, but showing up drunk for a date was even less so. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I think your guy is good, or even decent. He is a cold-blooded killer that doesn’t give a damn about anybody and anything. Except you.”
What he was going to tell her next was the toughest part, and Andrew took a more substantial sip this time. “I realized that his love for you wasn’t a temporary flare, but a fire that burned bright and hot and steady, and I had no choice but to accept that my feelings for you were just a pale approximation in comparison. And while he would always choose you, not only over other women but over anything and everything else, I had to admit that it wasn’t true for me. Not the other women part, because c’mon, none could compare, but I knew that there were things I would love to do even more than be with you.” He braved a quick glance at her face and was relieved to find a small knowing smile and not a sad or disappointed one. In fact, her sagely benevolent expression made her look a lot like her mother.
But then, the mischievous spark that he was familiar with reappeared, combined with a heart-stopping grin. “Oh, yeah? Like what? What on earth could be more satisfying than worshiping at my feet?”
“For Dalhu? Apparently nothing. But give me a mission no one in his right mind would take and I’d be on it like there is no tomorrow.” Andrew snorted. “I guess Kian wasn’t wrong when he accused me of being an adrenaline junkie.”
Amanda’s brows shot up. “Really? You’d take on a deadly mission over me? I wasn’t offended before, but now…”
Taking her hand, Andrew looked into her eyes. “Don’t. You are beyond gorgeous and hot as hell, and to be frank, I think I’m a better man than your Doomer. But I would be deceiving myself as well as you if I pretend that you’ve touched my soul the way you’ve obviously touched Dalhu’s. After witnessing the powerful connection between Kian and Syssi and then recognizing the same in Dalhu, I couldn’t in good conscience dismiss him as unworthy of you. The enormity of his love proves him as worthy, and condemns me as not.”
There were tears glistening in Amanda’s eyes, and the hand he was holding was trembling.
She whispered, “What are you saying, Andrew?”
“When I had this epiphany, I wondered if your feelings for Dalhu were as strong as his were for you, and I made a wish.”
“What was it?”
He leaned and kissed her cheek. “May you find the wisdom to realize your true heart’s desire, the strength to acknowledge it, and the courage to pursue it.”
Amanda’s lip quivered and tears glistened on her long, dark lashes. “That’s so beautiful”—she sniffled—”but unfortunately, far from simple.”
CHAPTER 18: AMANDA
Sweet, sweet, Andrew. I wish that things were as straightforward.
But Dalhu’s love wasn’t enough to overcome his murderous past, or rather one specific murder.
“You’re wrong,” Andrew said.
With indignation drying her tears, fast, she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “What? Am I supposed to forget and forgive the murder of my nephew?”
“No. But you shouldn’t punish and torture yourself for it either. It had nothing to do with you.”
Now, that was a convoluted way to look at it. Leave it to a male to try and simplify things to the level of absurdity.
Amanda chuckled. “Your interpretation of the situation is the equivalent of applying quantum physics to emotions and feelings.”
“Huh?” Poor Andrew tilted his head like a dog trying to understand verbal communication.
Sliding into her teacher mode, Amanda put on a smile. “Our everyday reality, or the physics we are all familiar with, disintegrates at the quantum level—the level of elementary particles—where nothing makes straightforward sense. Einstein coined the phrase spooky action at a distance about what he thought was the improbability of quantum phenomena as presented by other scientists of his time. He also said that things should be made as simple as possible, but not any simpler.”
“I must be dense because I’m not following.”
“You are breaking it into its basic components while ignoring other relevant and limiting factors. The way you present it, all I need to do is figure out what I want, accept that this is indeed what I want, and go for it. As if nothing aside from my needs and wants matters.”
“Because in the final analysis, nothing does. You cannot deny the powerful connection you have with Dalhu, one that even a dense guy like me has no choice but to acknowledge, and in the end, you are going to accept that there is no way you could go on without him. All you’re doing in the meantime is suffering. God, or fate, or whatever you want to call it has decided that the two of you belong together, and to fight destiny is futile.”
“Says Andrew the wise. How can you claim with such confidence that this is my fate or my destiny? How can anyone?”
Andrew shrugged. “Sometimes you just have to trust your gut.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Who is very wise—a goddess, no less—with over five thousand years of experience. I would listen to her if I were you.”
He had a point. This was what she’d been planning to do anyway before he’d intercepted her and offered to play shrink.
“You’re right, I will.”
Andrew lifted his grocery bag and pushed to his feet. “Good luck,” he said, offering his hand.
She pulled him into her arms and squeezed. “You’re a great guy, Andrew. And I’m so lucky to have you as a brother-in-law. In fact, I consider Syssi a sister without the in-law and the same goes for you. From now on, for better or worse, you’re my brother.”
He grinned. “I never thought the day would come when I’d be glad that a stunning woman has sisterly feelings for me, but here I am—happy as can be to have gained another sister.”
As she reached for her carry-on, Andrew lifted her bag and slung it over his shoulder. He carried it the short distance across the vestibule. She didn’t need his help; the bag was bulky but not that heavy, and by now he must’ve been aware that, as an immortal female, she was at least equal in strength if not stronger than him. But it seemed to be something he did without thinking, a behavior so ingrained that it was on autopilot.
Such a gentleman.
“Thank you.” Amanda kissed his cheek before taking it from him.
“My pleasure.”
“Say hi to Bridget for me.”
Andrew grimaced
. “I’m not sure she wants anyone to know about us.”
“Why on earth not? If you were my boyfriend, I would’ve paraded you around, showing you off.”
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure she thinks of me as her boyfriend. It’s, you know, more of a short-term thing. I think…”
“You mean a hookup?”
Andrew’s ears got a shade darker and he looked away. “Yeah, kind of.”
He was probably reading Bridget’s signals all wrong. The doctor would be insane not to sink her hooks into this yummy piece of a potential immortal male. The problem must’ve been with him.
“Well, I’m sure you’re wrong about this. But whatever makes you comfortable. If you want me to keep this a secret, for now, I will.”
“I’ll appreciate it.”
“Goodbye, Andrew.” She waved her hand as he stepped into the elevator.
Okay, deep breath, big smile, and go… Amanda depressed the handle and pushed open the door. But Annani wasn’t there.
“Ninni? Where are you?”
“I am outside,” her mother called from the terrace. The sliding doors were closed and the curtains were only partially parted to admit the weak moonlight.
Onidu rushed out from the kitchen, a big smile plastered on his face. “Mistress, you are back. Let me take care of your luggage.”
She pulled him into a hug before he had a chance to grab her things and scurry away to unpack.
As always, he stood motionless without returning her hug. The poor thing’s programming didn’t include the proper response. Maybe she should teach him what to do when someone embraced him. On the other hand, his response—or lack thereof—was so familiar that she would’ve most likely found it disturbing if he ever hugged her back. Never mind that it was silly of her to do so in the first place. But there was something comforting about the peculiar feel of his hybrid too-solid body. Perhaps it was just that he’d been with her since she was a little girl, and in her subconscious his presence represented security and being cared for. Was it a wonder then that she often thought of him as family?