Obviously, she’d have to endure Piper’s lame jokes for a while. “I see someone who needs to go get cheesecake with me. I need to stuff my face and drown my sorrows.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No.” Hell, no. Alice smiled. “I love Ian so much. It’s the best I’ve felt in my life. It’s only the job thing that’s got me down.”
“Well, if I know anything about you, you’re a fighter. And you eat like a bird so more cheesecake for me.” Piper caught sight of Ian heading through the outer floor toward the office. “Damn, woman. You did good.”
Alice tossed a hand towel at her, which Piper ducked gracefully. “Go get some sleep. And tomorrow’s Friday so you better be dressed for cheesecake after Zach’s memorial.”
“I’ll be there for you.” Her friend slipped out the door, grabbed her Gucci purse off the desk outside, and waved at Ian before catching the elevator.
The man she loved strode in with a grin and scooped her into his embrace. He nuzzled near her ear, sending giddy shivers along her skin.
“Mmmm, you smell good,” he mumbled against her throat.
“You’re just craving cookies.”
He pulled back with a laugh. “You make the best damned cookies in North America.”
“I read your poem.” Skimming her fingers through his hair, she brushed along the tender, velvety skin of his earlobes.
Even as a responsive tremor ran through him, his eyebrows lifted. “Poem?”
“‘Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep,’” she said softly. “It made me cry.”
“You never cry.”
Bringing his hand to her lips, she brushed a kiss over the back of it. “It made me cry. It was beautiful.”
He turned his hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing back and forth along her skin. “I meant every word. Not even death could keep me from you.”
“I know,” she whispered. The burn behind her eyes told her she’d get all misty next, so she cleared her throat. “Now, what are you doing here? How’d the meeting go?”
His expression soured. “I can’t just say I couldn’t suffer parting from you?”
As good as he felt against her, all solid man-muscle and rising heat, she stepped back. “No. What happened?”
“Couldn’t figure out why the other blood was at the crime scenes. Maybe they fought over the victim. Who knows where their heads were? With everything we’ve learned and after turning that damned journal inside out, it looks like the ritual was a way to stave off vesania by consuming the blood of newborn Immortalis. Didn’t matter what caste.”
That much she’d inferred from what little Otsana and Kenji had shared. “But they wanted to set up the Legion to take the blame.”
He growled. “Yes, and there’s no getting to Ander. Everything we’ve learned about his dealings with the murders and with the Slavers is circumstantial. Honestly, we’ve no idea what he’s guilty of.” An aneurism loomed in his future if he didn’t lighten up. She rubbed his arms. And couldn’t resist keeping her hands on them.
“I’m sorry, Ian. I may not work here anymore, but I’ve always been good at research. I’ll dig up what I can from home.” She chewed her lip a moment. “Uhm, speaking of home…”
He tugged her closer. “What are you worried over?”
“Am I moving to your home in Graham?” She detested the uncertainty in her voice. She was welcome in his home, but that was the problem. It was his home. Would she ever feel like it was hers?
He studied her face as if her emotions were there to read. God, she hoped he couldn’t see her ambivalence. The last thing she wanted was him thinking she didn’t want to move in with him.
“You’re my home,” he said. Great. Now he was going to make her cry again. She hated crying. “I have an idea.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “What is it?”
“I’ve been working up here for nearly a year. With everything that’s going on between the castes, I can’t see that changing anytime soon, and I truly despise my condo.” His hands followed her spine, making her want to purr, until they settled lower to cup her rear. She ducked her face into his chest to hide her smile.
“Insatiable Irish hick,” she said.
“I hear you laughin’, turtle.” He gave her a delicious squeeze that made her gasp with sudden, intense arousal. His fingertips were so close to…
“I want to get your renters out so we can move into your real home.”
A cry escaped her and she jerked her chin up. The love and adoration on his face infused her body from head to toe. She literally squealed and threw her arms around his neck, clutching tightly. Shit, she was turning into one of those girls, but she didn’t give a damn at the moment.
“You make me so happy,” she said. A feat she’d deemed impossible for so long. Every bit of misery endured before Ian seemed like a distant memory, scabbed over and healing.
“I love you, turtle.”
“And I love you.” She cradled his face and kissed him long and deep.
He groaned when she broke away. “So you want to take this back to your place or should I clear off your desk?”
She laughed. “None of that tonight. I have too much to do. I have to get this stuff home first and then I have to pack and search for a new job. Plus, don’t you have rogues to hunt or something?”
“You’re an evil woman.” He swatted her behind. “Frustrating wench.”
But he didn’t push. Instead, he stacked the boxes and grabbed them for her. “I’ll drive you home before I head out.”
“Thank you.” She smiled all the way to her apartment where she had a plan and a special set of lingerie waiting that she’d never had the guts to wear before. Neither of them would be leaving her apartment tonight. Wasn’t he going to be surprised? And she planned to surprise him every single damned night of their Immortalis lives.
Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep
by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Acknowledgments
I love the Entangled Publishing family. Love them. Without Entangled, this story might be a long time coming. A very, very special thank-you to my amazing editor, Candace Havens. Even returning your passes to me riddled, it was always for the best. I absolutely have to give Katie a shout out. You rock, Katie! Thanks for everything you do to get our books out there. And nothing would get anywhere without the revolutionary who is Liz. You have truly built something incredible, something to be extremely proud about.
To my first readers, the Chicks of Chick Swagger, you are phenomenal. I cannot wait until each one of you has your books out there for me to pimp! You are all extremely talented, and I wish I could give back to you even half of what you do for me.
I honestly wouldn’t survive day to day without my Maniacs!!! I love all of you like family—well, maybe better than family. It makes me super happy to know we’re just getting started down the road of mancandy, shoe porn, and books out the wazoo. And yes, Ezra’s story will be in your greedy little hands eventually.
Ever grateful for my family, I am blessed to have so much support and understanding with never a negative thing to say about what I love to do so much. I hope I have that much understanding when you kids choose your profession! But don’t count on it, hahaha.
And I will always be thankful for my fabulous agent, Nalini Akolekar. You are always there when I need you, and even better, always looking down the road when I forget to watch where I’m goi
ng or too focused on what’s immediately in front of me. You are the best backup I’ve ever had.
About The Author
Angela McCallister will try just about anything once, from skydiving, sailing, slacklining, Aikido, and even hang-gliding—as long as she doesn’t have to subject anyone to her “singing” or make an appearance in a bikini. She spends her days reading and writing. In fact, she’s never to be found without a book hidden somewhere on her person. A member of RWA San Diego, From The Heart Romance Writers, Rose City Romance Writers, and FF&P RWA chapters, she’ll talk books for hours and especially loves to hear from and meet readers and fellow authors.
Find Angela online:
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