Marley raised her eyebrows. “That’s a coincidence.”
He smiled. “Not really. Christopher has an apartment there. Aiden does, too.”
“So I shouldn’t bother trying to get you to go away, huh?” Marley pushed slowly to her feet and let out a long breath.
“No. I think we’re in this together now.” He met her reticent gaze steadily, not intending to back down.
But she nodded and moved to open the door. “You said you had painkillers?”
“In the first-aid kit.” He took a quick look around the room to make sure they hadn’t left anything, then followed her out the door.
There was minimal basis for it, but instinct told him he stood to gain—or lose—far more in this adventure than he’d ever anticipated.
Chapter Six
You pay for the granite countertops, multihead shower enclosures, and top-of-the-line security. The prestige and respect come free with the mailing address.
—Pritchard Building marketing materials
M
arley stretched out in the back of the SUV, finally letting herself succumb to her exhaustion. It would take two to three hours to get to New York City, which would put them there just before dawn.
The pills she’d taken had dulled the stabbing, throbbing ache in her side and reduced her headache to barely noticeable, but enduring the stitches had taken its toll. Gage had missed the mark with the anesthesia—or it just hadn’t been strong enough—so she’d felt every poke and slide of the curved needle, every tug when he tied off a stitch. She’d found other, better things to concentrate on: the slow glide of his breath, the way his spicy, woodsy scent filtered through the coppery stench of blood whenever he shifted position. His hands, gentle but decisive, making her shiver between waves of pain. The way he noticed her nearly naked body and somehow admired it without being distracted from his task. Though maybe she’d imagined that last part.
She hadn’t intended to grab him. That had been a completely involuntary reaction when the needle pierced a spot not numbed by the anesthetic. But his hard, warm chest had grounded her, given her something tangible to concentrate on while he finished torturing her. Then there’d been that moment right after he finished when he’d stared into her eyes as if he found them the most fascinating things in the world. As if he found her fascinating.
It had been so long since Marley had felt appealing to anyone. It was intoxicating, and that made it unacceptable. She would never regress to the needy woman who’d helped Anson become a monster.
So she’d shut Gage out, ignoring how the silver of his eyes seemed to dim, and considered leaving him behind. But he’d made clear that wouldn’t work. Their goals were too similar. Plus, he had inside access. They would both benefit from working together, suffer from trying to work separately. She just had to keep a tight rein on her attraction.
That wouldn’t be easy with her resources compromised. The hallucination she’d had before they got back to the hotel still bothered her. For a few minutes, she’d have sworn she’d watched that cut seal closed. She’d been excited to think the nullifications had sparked her abilities again, but then they got to the motel and nothing had changed. She was still pouring blood all over herself.
Hopefully sleep would help, after the saving lives and the driving and the sneaking and the fighting and the being injured. Lack of sleep had to be the reason the ceiling of the truck kept moving, too. It twisted, rose away from her, and began to dissolve into green fog before a gust of air blew it away. A gust she didn’t feel, that didn’t move anything else. She blinked hard, and the ceiling looked normal, the dome light the only thing breaking the sweep of gray fabric over the guys’ heads.
“I can’t believe you left that car behind,” Anson said to Gage in the front seat as the SUV accelerated onto the highway.
“It’ll be fine until I can get a service up here to get it. I have a space in the city.”
“So that’s a V-10?”
Marley drifted off to car talk, the mundane chatter surprisingly comforting.
When she woke, they were mired in Manhattan traffic, inching past orange cones as road workers finished nighttime construction work. She yawned and maneuvered herself upright, twisting awkwardly to avoid using the muscles on her right side. She settled into the seat behind Gage and watched the city go by. Even at this early hour, one you could barely call morning, the street was full of cabs and cars, and people hustled up and down the sidewalks. Quinn would be here, ready to start the next round of talks at the summit hotel. If she ever found out Marley was in the city, hurt, and hadn’t come to her for help, she’d give her a matching scar under her left rib cage.
Gage directed Anson to his father’s building and the parking garage in the back. The entrance had a bar gate and security stand.
“How are we going to get in?” Marley’s voice was raspy. She wished she had a bottle of water. She still felt weak.
“With this.” Gage handed a card to Anson and passed a bottle of some kind of sports drink over the seat to Marley. “Drink the whole thing. I have a few more. You need a lot of fluids, but you also needed the rest.” He leaned down so the guard could see his face. “Morning, Floyd. How’d you pull the early shift again?”
“Hey, Mr. Samargo.” The fit, salt-and-peppered man flashed a white smile. “I traded with Paolo. His wife went into labor.”
“Already? Wow! I’ve been gone too long. I’ll have to send them a gift.”
“It’s a girl,” Floyd said, handing back Gage’s pass after swiping it through a reader. “According to the ultrasound, anyway.”
“Awesome. Taylor wanted a little sister.”
“That he did, that he did.” Floyd nodded behind them. Marley turned to look out the back window. A BMW waited its turn to get in.
“Thanks, Floyd.” Gage began to straighten, then leaned down again and asked, “My brother here?”
“No, sir. He’s not on the log, and I didn’t see him come in.”
“Okay, thanks. Have a good day!” He sat up and replaced his card in his wallet, pensive until Anson asked where to go. “Up three levels. I have a space on four.”
Anson wound the SUV up the ramps, the engine’s roar echoing off the concrete. Marley watched Gage in the vehicle’s side mirror. How someone treated those who served him was a standard test of character. Marley had known some guys, her small-town politician father among them, who knew kids’ names and life events only so they could manipulate. Gage had sounded completely sincere.
“You have a space?” she asked as they reached the fourth level. “But you don’t live here, do you? You said your brother does.”
“My father does, too. The space goes with his apartment. All the way down on the right,” he directed Anson.
Marley opened her door as soon as they’d parked. The fresh air—citified as it was—rejuvenated her a little. No one was around, but she slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, anyway. She walked to the open wall in front of the truck and stared at the brightening sky on the far horizon, a tiny slice between tall buildings on either side of the street, while she drank some of the sports drink. Ugh, gross.
Gage joined her at the wall. “Two Numina-owned businesses are headquartered here, and a lot of the descendants have apartments on the upper floors. They could be clients for Cressida Lahr. She might even be using one of the apartments for the next meeting. Chris’s maybe.”
“Seems likely.” Marley tried to focus on the chill morning beyond the concrete barrier, but Gage was too close. He hadn’t put his jacket back on, and his T-shirt hugged his shoulders. She kept looking at the way the sleeve followed the curve so perfectly, lying snug against his rounded biceps but not digging in. The long, lean muscles of his arm flexed under golden skin, leading her down to the strong wrist she’d noticed in the club.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was a low rumble that made her shiver.
“About how you’d expect.” She touched her side absently.
Gage’s arm came around her back. His hand slid under hers to brush the edges of the bandage. The move brought his chest against her shoulder so that she felt surrounded by him. She enjoyed the sensation far too much. Battling attraction was one thing, but attraction mixed with a desire to be taken care of? Fuck that.
“That stay on okay?” Gage asked.
Marley pulled away. “Fine. Feels damp, though. I should check it.”
“Are we going to stand out here and wait for someone to drive by, or what?” Anson had pulled their bags out of the cargo area and stood frowning at Gage and Marley. “Just wondering if we have a plan. Or a place to go.”
Gage moved away from the wall and slung his leather duffel over his shoulder, then hefted Marley’s and motioned with his head toward the center of the structure. They followed him to an elevator paneled in mirrors but not staffed by an attendant. Marley hung her sunglasses from her jeans pocket and watched Gage swipe another card and punch in a code on a keypad before hitting floor ninety-eight, one below the top floor.
His access apparently turned the elevator into an express, because it glided smoothly upward without stopping or even indicating what floors they passed. None of them spoke. Marley closed her eyes and leaned heavily on the bar across the back wall. Her side ached and stung, making concentration difficult, but she tried to sense Numina on the floors they passed. With her narrow range and the elevator’s speed, she didn’t expect to. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know what floor they were on or if they were relevant to their mission. Numina-owned businesses probably employed Numina, so it wasn’t a valuable exercise. It just gave her something to think about besides Gage or her pain.
“We’re here.” Gage wrapped an arm around Marley’s waist, his hand on her good side, to support her. She hadn’t even noticed the doors open, they’d glided so silently. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, his skin hot on hers, and as innocent as it was, it sparked something restless and hungry that she barely recognized, it had been so long.
“I’m good.” She moved away, letting him pass by to open the only door in the hallway. “Is this yours?”
“My family’s. It’s the only one on this side of the floor.”
Marley frowned. “We’re going to share with your parents?”
“My father prefers to stay in the hotel where they’re holding the meetings.” Gage turned the top lock and switched keys to unlock the bottom. “My mother’s…not here.”
Marley frowned. She couldn’t remember reading anything about his mother. But then, she’d been concentrating her research on the men.
“Anyway, we can use this as our planning ground and stay here as long as we need to.” He stood back for them to precede him inside.
Marley walked into a gray marble foyer with darker gray walls that somehow held a luster she’d never seen before. Gage tossed his keys into a silver tray that sat on a walnut table, and the overhead light glowed out of a silver chandelier.
The foyer opened into a huge sitting room in the same colors. Here, though, blue and white pillows, rugs, and decorative objects such as vases and carved animals nicely contrasted with the dark upholstery and black wood furniture. The lines were all clean and symmetrical—not showily modern but less than cozy.
And definitely not furniture Marley wanted to get blood on.
“Do you have somewhere I can shower?” She hated to waste any time, but the blood caked on her skin itched, and she felt grimy from scalp to soles.
“Of course. Down here.” Gage signaled for them to walk down the hall with him. It was almost wide enough to walk two abreast. He stopped to turn on a light in a bedroom and said to Anson, “There’s an en-suite bathroom in here. Help yourself.”
Marley glimpsed a maroon bedspread and easy chair and the corner of what might be a desk before Anson thanked him and disappeared inside, closing the door.
Gage smiled at Marley. “Come on. You can have the master bedroom.” He curved his arm around her waist again to guide her to the end of the hall. It was becoming a habit, but Marley couldn’t make herself move away. She was still exhausted and his support did help, and she didn’t want the sensations whirling inside her with every shift of his warm hand on her side to stop.
“I don’t need the master,” she said when they reached it and she saw there was another, very nice room opposite it. “I can take that one.”
Gage shook his head. “That bathroom’s too small. Too basic. Come on.” He nudged her ahead of him into the room on the left, then directly into the bathroom before she could register anything about the bedroom/sitting room combination.
“Oh… Wow.” For the first time in a very long time, Marley went girlie. The bathroom was, of course, massive. Easily as big as the parlor of her former inn. Down the left side ran a gray, granite-topped vanity with two large sinks and enough real estate between them to hold the toiletries of six people. The cabinets beneath were white but with curvy black trim that came across as both welcoming and avant-garde. A gigantic mirror ran the length of the wall over the sinks. An octagonal nook at the end of the counter held the toilet where a pocket door could be slid across the opening. On the wall directly ahead stood the shower, again big enough for three or four people, with multiple showerheads and molded seats behind clear glass. It was all too easy to imagine it as a sexual playground, and despite her pain and fatigue and griminess, the heat ignited by Gage’s touches curled through her.
She turned hastily away to take in the light gray tiles on the floor, the big black armoire, and a Jacuzzi tub that was no safer for her imagination than the shower. Flowering plants cascaded out of high alcoves on the walls, and early morning light poured through the windows. She wanted to soak in that tub, indulge in scented bath oils and candles and gentle music. To take a half-hour shower, then wrap up in what she was sure would be large, thirsty towels. She even wanted to lather herself in silky lotions and put on makeup and a dress and go out for a long, normal evening with friends or on a date.
“What do you think?” Gage asked from behind her.
“I think I may never leave this room.” Marley’s boots echoed as she walked across the floor. “This is pretty amazing.”
Gage shrugged. “It’s home. My father had everything upgraded when he renovated, after—” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s all yours.”
Marley looked at him closely for the first time since they arrived in the city. His eyes and shoulders drooped with his own exhaustion, and she realized that except for her naps in the truck, none of them had really slept. But more than tiredness weighed him down. She recognized sadness in eyes that right now held barely a hint of silver.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. Her original intent had been to get right to work as soon as she was clean. Cressida and her followers most likely would have gotten to the city before them. There was a chance that delaying would put them more steps behind, but it was too dangerous to engage anyone under these conditions. If they were going to go after Cressida as a team, they all had to be…well, if not in top shape, at least in better shape.
“I’m going to shower and get some real sleep,” she said. “We should set a time to meet and discuss strategy.”
Gage nodded and checked his watch. “How’s ten thirty?”
“That’s fine. Would you tell Anson, please?”
“Sure.” He hesitated. “You shouldn’t get the stitches wet. Infection.”
Marley tried not to roll her eyes. “The bandage is waterproof, but you were there. If I’m going to get an infection, it’s because of crud that was around me, not the water here.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue. “All right. I’m gonna hit the shower, too. I’ll be just across the hall, but help yourself to anything you need. Kitchen’s always stocked with something, even when no one is expected.”
Marley’s stomach rumbled. She should eat, too, but cleanliness and sleep were more important. She’d fuel up during their meeting.
&
nbsp; “Thanks,” she said again. “Hey, mutual showers won’t drain the hot water too fast, will they? I might…linger.”
What on earth had possessed her to say it that way? Be in there a while. Now, that would’ve been much more neutral. Linger, especially with the hesitation first, sounded like a come-on.
If Gage took it that way, he didn’t reveal it. “No, we’ll have plenty of hot water. Enjoy.” He closed the door behind him on the way out.
And Marley kicked her own ass for feeling disappointed.
…
Gage knocked on Anson’s door and waited for several seconds before the man opened it. His hair was wet and he’d changed into sweats and an old, thin, ugly T-shirt. The comforter on the bed was flipped to one side, and the sheets and pillow were rumpled. He’d already been to bed.
Anson blinked heavy eyelids. “Yeah?”
“We’re going to meet at ten thirty in the kitchen to plan.”
“Okay.” He abruptly closed the door.
Okay then.
Gage went out to double-check the alarm system. In case someone got thirsty before ten thirty, he turned on a dim light in the kitchen, an interior room with no outside windows. Then he grabbed his bag on the way back down the hall to the guest room he’d chosen. Only after he was in that room with two, maybe three, closed doors between him and Marley did he let loose the grin he’d been holding back.
He’d seen the flash of self-annoyance that had followed her words and knew she hadn’t meant “linger” as an invitation. But she’d been aware of how it sounded, and he’d enjoyed the buzz of mutual attraction that had passed between them. That bathroom did inspire fantasies. He could imagine her soaping herself up, running her hands over those fantastic breasts, and… Okay, the blood that would run off her body and down the drain killed the image. He shouldn’t have let her take a full shower but empathized too much with her desire to be clean. They’d have to get some antibiotics somewhere.
Sunroper (Goddesses Rising) Page 9