The car door still open, Quinn looked back at me. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, don’t worry, policeman. I’m hot on your heels.”
He waited until I was out of the BMW before he shut his door. The man knew me too damn well. He pushed a button on his key. The turn lights flashed twice while the car doors locked automatically. I waited for him to circle the car then hung on to his arm.
“Did you bring your gun?” I whispered with my head turned to his shoulder as pedestrians walked by.
“What do you need a gun for?”
“You never know. They come in handy at times. Have you ever shot a dragon?”
“Jona.” His growl came with a playful bump of his hip against mine.
I tripped over my Martens’ untied laces and stumbled. When Quinn grabbed me, giggles erupted from my chest.
“By the way,” he said under his breath. “His name is Julian.”
“Julian.” The name rolled off my tongue.
I glanced up from my laces to the pub entrance and found myself staring into the angelic blue eyes of a French god.
3
KICKS UNDER THE TABLE
DAMN! I HAD to say Julian’s name at entirely the wrong moment, didn’t I? The hem of my hoodie caught in my death grip as I bit my wayward tongue.
Even in the dimly lit street, I must have glowed like an overripe strawberry with the heat shooting across my face. Quinn got the full blast of my scowl for steering me into this embarrassing situation. I’d eat my hat if Julian didn’t believe we’d been talking about him. It surely lifted his ego above London’s roofs.
He slung his leather jacket over his shoulder, hooking it with one finger. The white shirt he wore accentuated his deep blue eyes. He stared at me with a knowing smile. A crooked one. Way too beautiful.
I slapped myself mentally. What was wrong with me? So far a smile had never made me lose control and forget myself. Actually, I was quite immune to any boy’s charm.
After a couple of motionless seconds, Quinn nudged me in the back. He held his hand out to Julian. “Jules. How’re you doing?”
Jules? Did I miss something?
Julian knocked his hand into Quinn’s. Memories of his cool fingers around my wrist mocked me from the back of my mind. Suddenly, all I could think of was to hold out my hand to this stranger and beg for the pleasure of his touch. His fingers, long and masculine, seemed like they could coax a soft purr of surrender from even the most terrifying of lions.
Bloody hell, what was I thinking?
Hand stretched toward me, Julian tilted his head. “Hi, Jona. Everything all right?”
Not given to sympathize with the enemy, I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my torn jeans. “Save your pleasantries. Just because you freed me this morning doesn’t make us friends.”
He leaned a little closer. “Still pissed you couldn’t bring yourself to run off because of me?” he whispered.
Pardon? I fisted my hands to my hips and took a step backward. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t leave the court for Quinn’s sake. He trusted you with watching me. And you…failed. I wouldn’t cause my friend trouble because of your carelessness.”
Those warm blue eyes leveled with mine. Damn, they kicked me off my train of thought.
“At least you care for someone.”
Hands clapped behind us, Quinn’s voice carried to my ears, but his words made no sense to me. Julian’s intense stare held me captured. His gorgeous eyes knew no barrier. They penetrate my steeled core until I felt naked before him, with all the dark bits of my soul spread out for him to see.
I so hated it.
Neither of us broke the stare. Then slowly, on his left cheek, a sweet dimple appeared. A lopsided grin followed. “What do you say, shall we go in?”
I watched his lips part as he spoke and soaked in the chime of his voice. But it took a moment for me to understand. We were alone. Quinn and the dragon had already gone inside. Lips pressed together, I tore my gaze from him and stalked through the door of the restaurant. A low chuckle drifted to me as he followed on my heels. The fiend knew he had distracted me.
The smell of spicy food and beer hung thick in the low vault-like pub. One foot placed on the iron bar under the counter, Quinn was talking to the waiter. My mother flanked his left side, her elbow resting on the countertop, and I caught the first real glimpse of her this evening.
A claw fixed her limp hair at the back of her head, the faded red contrasting with the black of her silk blouse. A mud brown skirt that didn’t quite reach her knees enhanced her narrow hips, and high heels brought the top of her head in level with Quinn’s eyes. Her left foot slipped out of its shoe at the heel, suggesting she felt anything but comfortable in them. So who the hell was she trying to impress?
Shaking my head, I joined Quinn on his right. He leaned slightly my way. “Glad, you made it in. For a moment there, I thought you wouldn’t be coming.”
“Oh, and miss out on all the fun? How could I?” I rolled my eyes, but the barkeeper was the only one who noticed it, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
I moved my gaze to Quinn. “Why are we standing here?”
“Waiting to get a table.”
I pivoted and glanced around. “Why, there’s a nice table over there. We can take that one.”
Quinn followed the direction of my pointed finger then gave me a hard stare. “This is a table for twelve. I’m sure we can get something more private.”
“You want privacy?” My intended loud tone caught my mother’s and Julian’s attention. “I’d say we better get rid of the annoying company then.”
The off-duty officer slipped his hand under my hair and placed warm fingers on my neck. His squeeze was none too gentle. “You’re too sweet today, little wench,” he said through a wide grin and gritted teeth.
“I’m doing my best.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second.”
A waiter came from the back of the pub and led us to a niche with a small table. Square. Quinn and my mother lowered at opposite sides. Julian went around the table, giving me a suggestive glance over the candle-lit top before he eased down. This left me to sit between my mother and Quinn.
Just great. I coughed innocently and shoved my chair toward Quinn’s side as far as possible.
He waited until I had made myself comfortable, then he leaned in with a puzzled frown. “Maybe you’d like to sit on my lap?”
Yeah, too funny.
My mother’s continued silence didn’t bother me, but her focused way of watching me got my goat. Her profile loomed in the corner of my eye at any time. Disgusted, I propped one elbow on the table, my chin cupped in my hand. A perfect girly grin displayed on my face in spite of the annoyance that slang its noose around my neck. I turned toward Quinn to avoid the dragon’s stare.
“So, you two are really close friends, right?” That was Julian’s attempt to break the ice.
I would have much rather reached out to break my mother’s neck.
Quinn bobbed his head, but I was equally quick with a reply. “He’s my lover.” I jerked my chin in Charlene’s direction. “She yours?”
My mother sucked in a sharp breath and clapped her hands to her mouth. Very amusing. Not quite so funny was the kick against my shin coming from Quinn’s end.
“Ah, fuck.” My startled laugh tore my unholy curse to shreds.
Julian was the only one, who seemed utterly untroubled by my assumption. He folded his arms on the table, slowly leaning most of the weight of his upper body on his elbows. His hard gaze pinned me. “You’d never believe just how close we are.”
Holy crap, why did everything he said sound like the alluring purr of a leopard?
I opened my mouth for a snappy retort, but nothing whatsoever came out. For the first time in years, I was dumbstruck.
The waiter coming for our order was my rescue. The dragon asked for water. That fit, for she could extinguish the fire in her gorge with it. Julian took a glass of
O.J., and Quinn ordered alcohol-free beer.
“And what’ll it be for you, Miss?”
I lifted my gaze to the man dressed in a white shirt and black pants. “Hm, I think I’ll take a tequila for starters. Better make it a double. The night is long. There’s still a lot to endure.”
The cutlery on the table shook when Quinn kicked my shin under the long cloth again. I yelped and cussed.
He ordered a glass of Coke on my behalf, and the waiter hurried off, shaking his head.
“Are you all right?” Julian sounded worried.
“Perfectly fine,” I said through gritted teeth, casting Quinn a sideways scowl. And here I’d thought he was my friend. He probably couldn’t wait until I had to leave the country.
When everyone was set with their drinks, Quinn leaned forward, addressing my mother. “So, France, it is—where exactly are you going to take our little princess?” His soft tone held a hint of regret, and he cut a brief glance my way.
My hear warmed. I could be sure he’d miss me as much as I was going to miss him.
“My sister lives at the Provence. A place called Fontvieille.”
I’ve heard the word Provence before, but the last bit was a cryptic lull to me. Anyway, Charlene’s rambling didn’t interest me at all. The folding of my napkin into a neat fan distracted me easily enough. Squeezed in the middle, it looked like a pleated bow. And when folded, it was the perfect resemblance of a white cloak reflecting the light from above. Such as I had seen in the courtroom this morning.
The memory made me suck in a lungful of air. I swallowed. My gaze wandered across the table and over the edge to where Julian was leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced over his stomach. My eyes traced the line of buttons on his white shirt up to the collar. His strong jaw line came into view, followed by the sensual shape of his upper lip. Before I knew it, I was staring into his midnight-blue eyes.
And he stared straight back at me.
A jolt of surprise straightened my spine, but he remained in his relaxed position, not moving a muscle. Was he reading me? The unnerving tension between us grew quickly, though he didn’t seem affected at all.
“…The wine they produce earns them enough to fund a high standard of life,” my mother’s ramblings drifted to me. “My sister and her husband don’t have children, though they would have loved to have a baby. They’re delighted by the idea of having their niece in the house for a while.”
Quinn folded his hands on the table. “I was wondering, Miss Montiniere—”
“Oh, but please, call me Charlene.” She gave him a quick smile.
“Yes, Quinn, please. You must call her Charlene.” Sugar dusted my voice. “A fitting name for a merciless dragon, don’t you think?”
Pain shot through my right leg. If Quinn kept kicking me like this, my shin would be all shades of green and blue before the evening was over. This time I returned the kick, but missed his leg by an inch. My boot only scraped his jeans. “I can’t believe how annoying the rats are in this restaurant.”
“And I really can’t believe that you left all your manners back home,” he replied, like me, speaking through clenched teeth.
“I beg you, Quinn, don’t be mad at my daughter. I deserve her wrath and distrust.” My mother’s gaze moved to mine. “Don’t I, Jona?”
Sick to my stomach, I glowered at her. “I’d rather you didn’t speak to me at all, Charlene.”
Her glossed lips thinned to a line, and the corners subtly pointed south. She wouldn’t honestly have expected I’d call her Mum after she messed up my childhood so royally?
The dim bulbs in the restaurant dipped her bony face in a mystic light. For an instant, I thought a ghost of the past stared at me through her deep brown eyes, the only color about her face that had remained as intense as I remembered it over the years. Distracted by her longing stare, I almost failed to notice the forward move of her hand. Just before it could land on mine, I jerked my arm back and tucked both hands in my lap. The tablecloth hid them from her touch.
She reached for her glass of water, traced the brim with her slim finger, and then took a sip. “I’ll be honest with you. There won’t be an endless chance for us to talk. I’m ill. Seriously ill. With no hope for a cure. Julian sa—” She cleared her throat, stroking the stem of her glass. “The doctors don’t even give me until the end of the year.”
“Alas, this is the first good news of the evening,” I exclaimed.
From across the table, strong legs circled around my crossed ankles, lifting my legs in haste. The quick move dragged me lower into my chair, and I clasped the table with a startled hold. This time, Quinn’s kick missed my shin.
“That one was predictable,” Julian said, his eyes as dark as shards of obsidian. He lowered my feet to the floor, then withdrew his legs, and left me wondering whether he was referring to the kick from my friend or my cold retort.
Everyone fell silent. Shooting a glance at Quinn, I realized my mother’s illness wasn’t a surprise to him. She must have talked to him this morning in the court after my spectacular failure at fleeing her presence. Probably twirling him around her little finger with his pity for the helpless. And he totally fell for it. Stupid policeman.
Her days were numbered, so what? All the better, I would say.
“You see, Jona.” With her mentioning my name, my mother drew my eyes away from Quinn. “I don’t want to leave without taking the chance of making up for the hard life you’ve had.”
“You want my forgiveness?” That was ridiculous. A tight laugh escaped me.
“I beg you to accept your aunt’s offer to live in her house. She can provide you with all the decent comforts of life that I never could. She’ll see to you having a good start into your adult future.” Her lower lip trembled. “And for me, I only wish you could forgive my weakness in the past.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll go down with your only wish denied.” A growl of menace made it up my throat. “I’ll do as the judge ordered and spend the remaining six weeks till my birthday in shackles on the vineyards of an aunt I don’t know. Not quite the time to form a suitable future. As soon as the punishment is over, I’ll return to London and make my living here. Without you. As I’ve done during the past twelve years.”
“With the police fast on your heels and Abe Smith holding a cell free for you?”
It wasn’t so much Quinn’s bantering that bothered me at this moment as it was Julian’s low chuckle when his eyes met mine.
“I’m not a half-wit as you all may think.” I squared my shoulders, clenching the table cloth in my fists. “And if it means I’ll have to wash dishes in a pub like this ten hours a day to fund my future, then I dare say it’s the lesser evil compared to the hell I’m going to be sent to tomorrow.”
Tears stung my eyes. Finally coming after half a lifetime, they couldn’t simply be blinked away. My abrupt rise from the table knocked the chair backward, and it landed on the floor with the piercing sound of wood clattering to stone-tiles. If the dragon and her friend decided to finish their drinks of victory over me, I needn’t be part of their celebration.
I made a dash for the exit. The curious faces that followed me from every table in the room lanced my heart.
Cool outside air slapped me in the face. The door slowly closed behind me.
Run, my mind screamed. But where should I go? The brave speech inside was nothing but a betrayal to myself. Hardly able to do the math of a senior high school student, I didn’t think London had much to offer for me. No one would hire me for an honorable job just because I was able to recite Jane Austen by heart.
The sleeves of my sweater soaked up my tears before they could roll down my cheeks. The solid wall at my back provided mild comfort. I tilted head back and studied the night sky. It couldn’t possibly be my destiny to end up in one of Abe’s iron curtained cells one day.
The door of the pub opened, and out stepped a tall figure. Through the mist of moisture pooling in my eyes, it took me
a second to recognize Quinn.
“Oh, there you are,” he said softly as he leaned against the wall the same way I did. “I almost feared I’d have to spend the night on the streets searching for you.”
After a few blinks, my gaze moved to his face and back to the sky. “There’s no place for me to go. No one wants to have me.”
He took my hand. “I just met someone who does. And I’ve heard of a handful more people who’d be delighted to welcome you to their home. Kiddo, look past your pride for once and see the great chance they’re offering.”
“Why are you so willing to shove me down the lion’s gorge? You heard all her false words,” I spat. “The only thing this woman wants is peace for her soul before she kicks the bucket.”
“And is this really such a bad thing?”
I jerked my hand out of his. “Blimey, Quinn, whose side are you on?”
“Yours, Jona. Can’t you see?” Without warning he pulled me into an embrace that knocked the air out of my lungs. “I hoped for a twist like this ever since you first strode up to my desk at the office and planted your butt on my stack of case files. You were the cheekiest brat I’d ever come across, but I saw the hurt in your frightened eyes when you tried to mock us both with your snappy talk.”
He brushed strands of my hair out of my face. “Why don’t you give your mother and her family a chance to meet the great girl I know must be hiding somewhere deep in there?” The hint of a grin appeared on his lips while his finger stabbed the spot between my collarbones.
If there was any great bit of me, then I would make a double effort not to let my goddamn mother get within reach of it. “Want to know why I told everyone my mother died in a car crash?” I sniffed.
Quinn’s eyes held mine as he nodded.
“Because I was ashamed of them to know the truth. That she abandoned me for the sake of her violent lover who whacked the shit out of me every night anew. She gave me away. She chose her sick boyfriend over her own child.” My throat constricted as the words wrenched out. “I couldn’t bear peoples’ disdainful glances any longer. Their whispered taunts behind cupped hands about what a miserable daughter I must have been that my own mother refused to keep me.” With the back of my hand, I wiped my nose and twisted away from Quinn’s hold. A moth circled around the beam of light from the streetlamp. I watched it land on the bulb then flutter away. “So I invented her honorable death.”
Loving Your Lies Page 4