Knock, knock...
Page 10
Back at Pappy's high-end apartment, she helped him sit down on the dark brown leather couch before putting on a pot of tea. He needed a few minutes to collect himself and come to terms with Bernice’s burial – and that she could allow him. She returned to the living room after the tea had steeped. She'd found some cookies in a cupboard and put a small tray together for him.
"How are you feeling now?" She placed the tray on the coffee table. Then poured him a cup of tea.
He took it from her and settled back into the cushions, sighing heavily. "Fine. I'm fine. It's just so hard to say good-bye."
"Isn't that the truth?" she muttered as she sat down beside him and gently patted his hand.
"You know, for a moment there…" He hesitated, then forced himself to say, "For a moment, I thought I saw her. Actually saw her standing off to the side, watching us all mourn her passing." He smiled in a self-deprecating way. "Silly, wasn't it?"
He took a sip of tea.
Shay stared at him. How interesting. And how wonderful. She'd have to remember to tell Bernice. She'd enjoy that.
"Bernice would have enjoyed her funeral," she said warmly. It was a lie but it's what Pappy needed to hear. "It was beautiful."
"She'd have enjoyed watching us all honor her," he said with a knowing smile. "For all her faults, I loved her."
"And the loving doesn't stop with death," Shay murmured. How many times had she seen love continue beyond? It made her feel good and it broke her heart at the same time. How hard for the person left behind… Sometimes they never loved again.
How horrible that would be. Or would it? This way at least they'd experienced love.
"No. Love doesn't just fade away. I wish she'd been there, today."
Not knowing the best thing to say, she murmured gently, "And maybe she was. She loved you. It makes sense she'd come back to say good-bye, if she could have."
Her grandfather peered at her hopefully. His rheumy eyes filled with tears. "Do you think so?"
She put her arms around his frail body and hugged him. Pappy's heart was huge. He'd been blessed to have loved twice. First he loved her grandmother, who passed on early when his two sons were still young, and then Bernice. Losing Bernice now had to be tough. And would have triggered the memories of his first loss, and the loss of both of his sons since then. There was only his grandchildren, her brother and herself, left. And her brother had lived in Europe for last few years.
Pappy had always been a mainstay in her life. But who'd been there for him?
Bernice.
And he was such a dear man. If he needed reassurance now, she could give him that.
She knew exactly what to say. With her voice full of love for this special, hurting man, she said, "Yes. I know she was."
***
Saturday morning
Roman leaned back from his laptop and rubbed his temple. "Grandfather, this is the third time you've mentioned my date with Shay tonight. Don’t worry. I have reservations at the new seafood restaurant downtown for 8:00 pm. So everything is taken care of." The old man was driving him nuts. He'd called a dozen times since Roman drove him home from Bernice’s funeral.
He understood it. Putting Bernice to rest had been a big step. Finding closure was important. Grieving would take longer. The need to connect with the living, the reaffirming of life, and the acceptance that his own death was right around the corner made his grandfather a mess right now. He'd seen it many times with victims of crime, back in his old life.
Not for first time, he rubbed the scar on his side.
"Good. Good. When is the reading of the will?" his grandfather asked.
Roman frowned, his hand stilling. "I'm not sure. Why?"
"It's just that Bernice was always very particular about her stuff. I want to make sure her estate is handled correctly."
Not their issue. Thankfully. Bernice had enough money to make even the most honorable consider ways and means of getting a piece of the pot. "That's out of our hands. The lawyers will be handling Bernice's fortune. I'm sure they have everything in order."
The grumbling on the other end of the phone made Roman smile. "Why don't you call Charles and meet him for lunch? He might know more."
Roman could almost see his grandfather perking up. "Do you think he's awake yet?"
Glancing at the clock, Roman grinned. It was almost 4:00 pm. "He was probably up from his nap an hour ago."
His grandfather hurriedly rang off.
Roman leaned back against his couch and stared across the room. He'd painted for hours last night, losing himself in his art. He'd finally put everything away around 4:00 am. No wonder he was tired. Then that's the way his art went these days. Nothing for days, then going into a painting so deeply he lost track of time.
He'd only gotten a few hours rest these last couple of nights. Add in the funeral... Dealing with Grandfather had been the hardest. Ronin would have been there, but he'd been called away on some big case.
That was life in law enforcement, had to take the front seat. As Roman well knew. And of course the other issue frustrating him was about the subject matter of his painting.
His model. Shay.
He stood up and strode to his studio. His latest was a charcoal sketch with pastel highlights. A new look. A new technique. Did it work? Yeah, he actually thought it did. The charcoal played with the shadows and shapes. The paint highlighted the swells and curves.
He knew this body almost as well as his own. He needed to know Shay, the beautiful soul that called to his soul, just as well.
And damn, he wanted to check out her curves in person.
Chapter 8
Saturday evening…
The doorbell rang like five minutes too soon. Shay's hand slipped with the mascara wand, giving her a nice black streak across her cheek. Shit.
Why couldn't he be late tonight? She scrubbed her cheek clean and tried again. With that last bit in place, she stroked on her favorite lipstick and raced to the door. She'd been looking forward to tonight all week, even though she knew she shouldn't. But in this instance, logic and emotion didn't match. And right now, her heart was pounding with nervous excitement.
"Hi. Come on in. I'll be just a minute." Not giving him a chance to answer, she bolted back to her room and slipped on her heels and put in her long emerald earrings to match the skin-tight jade dress she'd bought on impulse, and had yet to wear. Feeling a little better, she did one quick turn in the mirror then walked back out to her living room.
Roman stood with casual grace in the middle of her living room, studying the painting on the wall. Her Stefan Kronos masterpiece. Of course. That painting never failed to attract attention.
"Do you like it?"
His gaze switched from the painting, locking on to her so suddenly it left her momentarily stunned. And feeling like an idiot.
Wearing a rueful smile, she apologized, "Sorry, I've been running behind all day.
"It's beautiful." His gaze shifted, a long, slow sweep down and then back up. So hot so sensual she could feel his gaze as a physical stroke. Viscerally. She swallowed and wondered at the intense look on his face. "Roman, are you all right?"
His gaze deepened and he smiled. Oh God. That heart-stoppingly slow movement had her gaze locking onto that mouth as the corners quirked. She swallowed.
"I'm more than all right." His head tilted to the side. "You look divine."
She flushed at the blatant appreciation in those dark blue eyes, as well as his words. "Thanks, but I meant the painting."
His smile deepened. "I know. It's a Stefan Kronos piece, isn't it?"
Interesting. Not many people recognized Stefan's work. "It is. I'm surprised you know it," she said lightly, snagging her shawl from the back of the couch. She threw it around her shoulders and smiled at him. Happy to be back into her coolly professional space, she said, "Shall we?"
He opened the door for Shay and waited in the hallway while she locked it behind her. "I own one of his works and have seen se
veral of his paintings at a friend's house," he said.
She gazed at him in surprise. "Really?"
"He's incredibly talented."
"That he is," she murmured. He held the elevator door for her and pushed the button to descend to the lobby. She watched him. Everything she'd seen of him spoke of grace and strength and done with an economy of movement. He didn't fidget, glance around or hesitate. He seemed so centered. When he turned that gaze on her, like he often did without warning, it was to pin her. As if she had his focus, every tiny speck of it, during the time he stared at her. That was as unnerving as it was delightful.
In today's world, how often did one have someone's total attention? Usually cell phones went off, other people interrupted, or distractions continually interfered. She had no way to evade his gaze, and she had no wish to.
Another novel experience.
The new restaurant was a pleasant surprise. She'd planned to take Pappy for a special meal there when it opened. She gazed around, wondering at the sleight of hand that placed them at a private table for two on the rooftop under the stars. The setting was delightful.
"I assume from your expression that this is fine," he said, warm amusement lacing his voice. He held out the chair for her. Waited for her to take her seat.
"Absolutely." She smiled at him, appreciating the way that the material of his suit snugged up against his shoulders as he took his seat.
Damn. If she were in the market for an affair, this guy would definitely get top billing. Right now, though, she was guy shy, and that was enough to keep her hormones in check…
Liar. Her hormones were anything but in check. And this guy was anything but safe. Danger rippled behind those eyes. And promise. So much damn promise.
The wine steward approached, breaking her gaze. She was grateful for the distraction and stared down at the city laid out below her.
When they were alone again, she asked the one question that had kept her guessing all week. "What did Bernice say to you about me?"
He smiled. But this time it was polished, the cool, businesslike smile of a pro. She eyed him suspiciously. "She said you were perfect for me. And that you managed the Lassiter Foundation almost as well as she managed the Folgrent Foundation."
Shay gasped, then laughed. "Almost? How typical of Bernice."
He narrowed his gaze at her. "You didn't like her?"
"You've already asked me that." She settled back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "My answer is the same. I really respected her. I even loved her, as one loves an old family friend, but I didn't appreciate how she kept Pappy on a string."
"But you understand it?"
She gave a half laugh. "I didn't say that."
"No, but it’s there, hidden in your words."
"After having asked her why she'd never made a decision between the two, then yes, I guess I do. That doesn't mean I have to like it."
He winced. "I do feel for Grandfather. At the same time, he made the choice to stay on the string."
Amusement rippled through her. This man would never let himself be strung along like their respective grandparents. "Bernice said she loved them both too much to hurt the other by picking one."
His gaze widened. Then he gave a short laugh. "If that isn't Bernice all over."
***
Knock, knock…
It's me again, Shay. Damn I wish you could hear me. I could tell you how foolish you are. You think you can close your doors and lock yourself deep inside. That's definitely not going to happen. I don't need open locks to give me access.
I'm like you – talented.
And you'd hate it if you knew.
I know. You'll see. I know all about what you did.
It wasn't fair.
But then you crossed the line.
That's all right. I've crossed that same line many times. In fact, I've crossed bigger and more dangerous lines. But after a few times, it doesn't matter anymore. There's no remorse. No sadness. Nothing. Just an empty space that you can fill however you'd like to fill it. It's exciting in its own way. It's different. Being alone in this vast space with the power to see inside people. To see their real motivations. That's what you pride yourself on, isn't it?
You're happy to sit inside your ivory tower and feel safe. But you're not safe. See, there's more than one type of danger.
And you'll never be safe.
Not from me.
***
Late Saturday night…
Shay walked to her apartment building, aware of the strong man at her side. "I really enjoyed dinner," she murmured, opening the conversation. She didn't want him to come inside. Didn't want to have to invite him in for a nightcap. But knew she would anyway. She couldn't help it. He did things to her insides, lovely hot things. Things she wasn't ready for intellectually. Things she didn't want to face. Not tonight. Maybe not this year. Or this lifetime.
Despite all that, she wanted to be with this man. And she had wanted that for a long time.
The doorman stepped out to open the glass door for her.
"Good evening, Thomas. I hope you're having a quiet evening."
He beamed as he always did when she spoke to him. "I'm having a wonderfully peaceful evening. Thank you for asking."
"Good." Roman walked to the elevator and hit the up button. Shay raised an eyebrow at Roman.
"I'll see you to your door."
She nodded gracefully. "Good night, Thomas."
"Have a good one, Miss."
She didn't need to look around to know Thomas watched their progress with a curious eye. She hadn't brought home a date in a long time.
Once inside the elevator she said, "You didn't need to see me to my door. Thomas has always looked out for me."
"I don't take a lady out for an evening and not return her home."
Simple, clean, and yet his words seemed...a bit cool. Was he upset? She peeked through her lashes at him.
Their relaxed relationship had definitely tightened, changed in the last few seconds. It had been way too long since her last date. This was awkward. She hated awkward.
"Good to know."
The elevator slowed to a stop. He held the door open for her. She walked to her apartment, searching in her bag for her keys.
Finally. She pulled them out and went to slip the key into the lock. That was when she realized the door was ajar. And froze.
"What's the matter?"
She took a deep breath. "My door is already unlocked."
***
Roman hated Shay's nervous fumbling, and especially hated that her nervousness intensified the higher the elevator rose. He didn't think she was aware of it. She'd relaxed over dinner, her wariness easing before finally disappearing altogether. He'd loved watching her settle and open up.
So what made her so nervous? He'd thought they’d enjoyed dinner and that they were past the initial nervous stage. Bernice had shared a lot about her favorite goddaughter, as she called Shay. She’d told him, ‘She's been hurt. Badly. Now she is wary. You'll have to work hard. But she's worth it.’
At the time, he hadn't been too worried. He'd been communicating with Shay daily and knew her, but that was before he moved back to Portland. From the instant he’d seen the first series of ‘Shay’ photos, he'd been interested. Time and online dialogue and painting had strengthened the bond. Whether she knew it or not. But at this moment in time they were barely friends – certainly not looking like lovers.
Roman knew he really wanted to be lovers. And so much more.
She'd been a delight all evening, full of laughter and great conversation and passion that simmered under the surface – until they got out of the car and she realized he wasn't just going to give her a casual ‘good night’ and walk away.
Hell, he didn't want to walk away at all.
Now, as she pulled her keys out of her purse and fitted them to the door, he realized her composure was firmly back in place – like a protective coating, keeping the world at a sa
fe distance.
Shay’s composure disappeared as she stared at her front door.
"What do you mean?" he questioned cautiously. "Did you leave it unlocked?"
Her beautiful chocolate eyes stared up at him, confusion clouding them. "I locked it before we left, didn't I?"
He had to stop and think. "You went to lock it."
"But did I?" She sighed. "Just another glitch… Goes along with my day. Sorry. I'm trying to avoid being paranoid these days."