He sighed. The urge to end this conversation by kissing her again was great, but he refrained because kissing her again was not going to be enough. “Can we discuss this in my study?”
Her mouth—that lush, full mouth that had felt like velvet against his—pursed with mild irritation. “I guess.”
Was she mad that he’d kissed her? He wasn’t. He’d known doing such a thing risked upsetting her, but he’d been powerless in the moment. Drugged by her beauty and charm. He still felt that way, but he’d had a large tumbler of cognac in the hopes of throttling some sense back into his head.
It hadn’t worked.
He led her through the living room and to the other side of his home, then opened the study door for her and allowed her to enter first.
She did, stopping in the middle of the room. “This is definitely a man’s space, isn’t it?”
“What makes you say that?”
She turned in a slow circle. “Very masculine is all.” She waved her hands around. “This much leather and dark wood.”
“You don’t like it?”
She faced him again, a slightly teasing gleam alight in her eyes. “No, I like it. It’s very you.”
He took that as a compliment.
She walked over to the Gustav Klimt painting, studying it for a moment, then peering closer before declaring, “That’s a really good copy. I think I saw the original in a museum once. In Vienna.”
“You’re looking at the original now. The one in the Leopold Museum is a really good copy.”
She turned, slightly astonished, but then she shook that off. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Klimt, right?”
“Yes. Death and Life,” he answered. The painting of a reaper and his myriad victims was really a composition showing the inevitable circle of life. It was a slightly morbid piece of art and had been a gift from his ex. Seemed fitting that she’d give him something so morose. He kept it as a reminder of how his attempt at a normal life hadn’t worked. How he was never going to be anything but what he was. “You know Klimt.”
“I like his work. I’m not crazy about this one, but the rest of his are very beautiful. I mean, this is beautiful in its own way, but it’s also pretty…dark.”
“I agree. It’s a rather pessimistic view about the inevitability of things.”
“Then why do you have it?”
“As a reminder.” He didn’t want to explain more than that. He pointed to the couch. “Sit, please.”
She did, tucking her feet under her as she curled up against the arm of the big, leather sofa. She stood out in this room like a rose in a dung heap. So soft and feminine against all the stark, manly décor. He imagined if he could see color, the contrast would be staggering. She tipped her head at the bookcases. “Have you read all those?”
“No. But I will. Do you like to read?”
“I do. Maybe I’ll borrow a book to take to bed with me. If that’s okay?”
His throat tightened at the thought of her in bed. He’d much rather be the thing she borrowed. “Fine,” was the best response he could get out.
She’d done something to him. Bewitched him in some way. Jinn magic. It was as complex and ancient as the reaper’s. Perhaps more so, based on how he was feeling.
She was staring at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You wanted to talk to me about something? The job, perhaps, that you think I’m not going to?” The lilt in her voice made it clear how humorous she found that idea.
“You’re not.”
She kicked her feet out from under her to plant them on the floor. “Lucien, you can’t forbid me to go to work. You can’t forbid me to do anything. I am a free woman. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe, I do, but I need that job.”
He studied her. The lines of her body were taut with indignation. It didn’t make her any less attractive, unfortunately. “And how do you propose to keep the wish merchant from attempting to snatch you again?”
“Once I get to work, I’ll be fine. Speaking of getting to work, my car is at the Excelsior. I’m going to need a ride over there in the morning to get it.”
“You can take one of mine.”
She barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. They’re cars. They’re meant to be driven. And since you already have a car, you must know how to drive. Problem solved.”
She was looking at him with her mouth open, eyes narrowed. “You’re an odd one, you know that?”
“Why?”
“For a lot of reasons, but not caring that I might hurt one of your precious fancy machines is a big one.”
His eyes narrowed. “My cars aren’t precious. Life is precious. Things can be replaced. Very little else matters.”
Her gaze went soft for a moment, then she looked down at her hands. “That’s a nice sentiment.”
“It’s truth. Nice or not. Now, back to you going to work. I’m not forbidding it, but it would be a risky move on your part.”
“Then come with me. Be my bodyguard.”
He snorted. “I don’t go out in public.”
“You were in the club. And you came to my condo.”
He didn’t want to tell her that the trip to her home had been the first time he’d ventured beyond the boundaries of the Caldwell building in years. She would only pity him. Or think something was wrong with him, which she’d be very right about. “Those were both rare occasions. And both at night.”
She sat back. “Does the sun affect you like it does a vampire?”
“Not exactly, but it’s not my friend either.” Being in daylight made it much easier to see his reaper form through his human one. The glimpses of skull and bones were enough to cause panic in those around him. It wasn’t something he enjoyed.
“Okay. Maybe Hattie could go with me.”
“And do what when the wish merchant approaches you?” He shook his head. “You must have some sick days that you could take. Or if you want, I’ll speak to the owner of the spa on your behalf—”
“No.” She stood abruptly. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need you to intervene for me. I can call my boss myself. I’m not going to, but I could.”
Her refusal to let him help rankled. He banged his fist on the desk. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? You’re the one who came to me for help, and now you’re not letting me.”
“I need that job.”
“Taking a few sick days is not going to get you fired.”
She sighed and sank back down to the couch. “I don’t think the wish merchant will come after me during daylight hours when I’m surrounded by clients and co-workers.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
She frowned. Hard. “Fine. I’ll call in sick.”
“Good. Then we can work on a plan to keep you safe permanently.”
She let out a sharp breath. “That’s not going to be easy.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Nothing worth having is.”
“No, it isn’t.” She didn’t make eye contact again, making him think she was more upset with him than she was letting on. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day. Good night.”
“Good night.”
She got up and left. He watched until she was no longer in sight, then went back to the spreadsheets he’d been studying. His home was quiet again, the way he liked it, but there was a new level of energy in it.
Imari’s presence. He had no other explanation. Hattie must be thrilled.
He pulled up the security footage of the wish merchant entering the club. The man was alone. Imari’s guess that the man’s genie had wished him to appear as a supernatural seemed spot-on.
He went back to his spreadsheets.
“Lucien!” Imari’s tense exclamation shattered the stillness.
He heard the alarm in her voice and leaped to his feet, heading in the direction of the guest bedroom. He met her in the hall.
Anger blazed in her eyes. “Where is it?”
>
“What?”
“You know what. My bottle. It’s not on the nightstand where I left it.”
“I put it in the safe.”
Her jaw clenched tighter. “You took my bottle.”
“Yes.” He spoke a little slower. “And put it in the safe. I thought you’d want that.” Steam was practically coming out of her nostrils, so he guessed that wasn’t the case at all. “I take it I was wrong.”
“You took my bottle.”
“You said that.” He was utterly confused.
Tears welled up in her eyes, shocking him to his core. “Give it back.”
“Absolutely.” He returned to his study, unlocked the safe behind the Klimt painting, and retrieved the bottle. He rushed it back to her. “Here. Nothing happened to it, I assure you.”
She snatched it from him. “Tell me you give this to me of your own free will. That it’s a gift with no strings.”
He didn’t see the point in that, but also understood this was not the moment to argue. “I give you the bottle of my own free will as a gift with no strings attached.”
The anger, the panic, the unshed tears, all of it disappeared, and she heaved out a breath. The bottle was in her arms, held tight to her body. “Thank you.”
“Would you care to enlighten me about what just happened?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “In the morning.”
“Please. I obviously upset you in some way. That was not my intention. What did I do?”
Her body rose and fell with several deep inhales before she spoke again. “You took my bottle. And with it, control over me. For that span of time, until you put it back in my hands, I would have had to obey you. If you demanded me not to go to work, I couldn’t have. I would have been powerless to do anything except what you commanded.”
His breath caught in his throat. “I had no idea that’s what I was doing. I am very sorry.”
She nodded. “I know. And I also know I overreacted. I’m sorry about that.”
“No, don’t apologize. I can see why you would be so upset.” He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until her fears were gone, but he was wise enough to know she wouldn’t welcome that. This was a woman who didn’t want anyone to have power over her. “Would you care to put the bottle in the safe yourself?”
“I think for tonight, I’ll just keep it with me.” She hesitated, then stepped toward him, arms coming up.
He stepped back at the same time, the only thought in his head that she obviously needed space. Had she meant to hug him? That couldn’t be. He was utterly confused. “I…would do the same in your shoes. Sleep well, Imari.”
Her arms went back to her sides. “You too, Lucien.”
He stood there a moment longer as she slipped back to the guest room. He thought about what she’d told him. How upset he’d made her without realizing what he’d done. How unsure he was of how to act around her.
His feelings didn’t matter, though. She needed protecting. There was no way he would let the wish merchant ever endanger her again. Then the thought of what would happen to her if the wish merchant did get a hold of her bottle filled him with such anger that he decided to do something he hadn’t done in a very long time.
He was going out.
To hunt.
Imari fell into bed. The mattress was plush, the sheets as soft as a kitten’s belly, and she was tired enough that she ought to have conked out immediately, but sleep eluded her.
Lucien, however, did not. He was all she could think about. That and how bad she felt for yelling at him.
He hadn’t known what he was doing, she knew that. He’d been trying to help. And she’d undoubtedly made him feel awful.
She huffed out a breath, angry with herself.
Maybe her past excused her behavior a little, but her temper was going to be her undoing someday if she wasn’t careful. She hoped he didn’t hold it against her. He was too good a man to lose as a friend. If that’s what they were. They were that much, right? They’d kissed after all. Twice. But then, she wasn’t so sure those kisses hadn’t upset him either.
With a soft groan, she put one arm over her head. The pillows were the perfect firmness, but she was never going to sleep with all of this on her mind. She got up, tossed on her silk robe over her nightdress, and went to find him. She started with his study, but he wasn’t there. Slowly, room by room, she went through the house.
Mansion was a better term. The place was huge. She never would have guessed just how large, even based on the parts she’d been through already.
It was easy to see where Hattie’s touch had been the deciding factor on décor, and where Lucien’s had been the final word. In most of the spaces, it was clear he had not been the winner. There were plenty more of the video screens masquerading as windows, too. Most of them showed nighttime views, making her wonder if they were programmed to reflect the actual passage of time. If so, it was a genius move for an underground dwelling.
There was a gym, a library that held more books than his study, and a craft room that was absolutely Hattie’s space. In a small interior foyer that felt like it was about the middle of the dwelling, there were two sets of carved double doors opposite each other. She wondered if one went to Hattie’s suite and one to Lucien’s.
She wasn’t going to investigate. First of all, those were private spaces. Secondly, if Lucien had gone to bed, she’d just wait until morning to apologize.
There was a hall on the left side, with a single steel door at the end. It looked industrial. Maybe it was another way out to the garage. She left it alone as well.
With a little more exploring, she found a rec room too, with a pool table, some video games, and a theater area complete with staggered seating for a dozen people and a popcorn machine. But who would come over to watch movies?
Past that room, she found stairs that led to a lower level, but she felt odd about going down there. Like that might be snooping. She caught a whiff of something familiar as she stood there, staring down the stairwell. She knew that smell from the lobby of the Excelsior. It was the faint scent of chlorine, and it occasionally drifted into the lobby where she lived since the entrance to the pool was near the elevators. Did Lucien have an indoor pool?
After seeing his garage, nothing would surprise her.
She circled back to the kitchen. And found Hattie at the table with a pot of tea. Her head was down, and she was poring over a Middle Eastern cookbook.
Imari cleared her throat softly to announce her presence.
Hattie jumped anyway, putting her hand to her heart. “Oh my, you startled me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Are you all right, dear? I thought you’d gone to bed. It’s late. I think.” She peered up at the clock. “Oh yes, very late. Or semi-early. What’s wrong? Can I help?”
Imari smiled. “I just needed to talk to Lucien. I owe him an apology. I sort of yelled at him earlier.”
“I see. He has a tendency to bring that out in people.” Hattie’s mouth bunched to one side. “But I’m afraid he’s not home.”
“Oh.” And yet he’d told her he rarely went out in public. Had he lied about that? She didn’t want to think so. She wanted to trust him. She needed to. That need made her dig a little to see what else Hattie would reveal. “I guess he’s in the club again.”
“No, I don’t think that’s where he went.”
So much for that. “Well, whatever the reason he left, I hope it wasn’t because of what I said to him.”
Hattie shook her head. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me why he was leaving, just that he was.”
“Never mind, then. It can wait.” Imari turned to go back to the guest room.
“Don’t hold it against him,” Hattie said.
Imari looked at her again. “Hold what? His being out?”
“No. His…bad attitude. His grumpiness. Whatever you want to call it. I promise you, he’s a good man. Fiercely loyal. Loving in his
own way. He just has come up against a great deal of trouble in his life.” She stared at the cookbook, her lined hand smoothing the page. “He’s sacrificed a lot. Endured a lot. And he deserves to be loved.”
Before Imari could respond, Hattie looked up, eyes rounded. “I didn’t mean to imply that I think there’s anything between you two. But if there was going to be, I think it would be a good thing. Even if it was just a friendship.”
Imari wasn’t sure what to say. That was a lot of information, and none of it precise enough to make any kind of judgment about. “I get the sense that he’s a good man. He can be rather abrupt, though.”
Hattie nodded. “I hate making excuses for him. I don’t do it very often, though, seeing as how few people ever really get to know him. I think in time that gruff exterior would soften. For the right woman, anyway.”
There was hope in her eyes. Hope that felt wasted on Imari. She didn’t want to talk about her commitment to Khalid (that felt too much like accepting it), but she also couldn’t bring herself to tell Lucien’s grandmother that her grandson wasn’t remotely interested in anything with the woman standing in her kitchen. Those kisses, she’d decided, hadn’t been about anything but curiosity.
Especially not after the way he’d backed away from her when she’d gone to hug him in the hall.
Still, it seemed wrong to let Hattie pin her aspirations on a pipe dream. “Hattie, I’m sorry, but I’m not the right woman.”
Hattie’s optimistic smile thinned. “Oh. Well, you never know.”
Imari put her hands on the back of the kitchen chair in front of her. “I do. I…kissed him. Just to say thank you. And he didn’t respond well.”
A glint sparked in Hattie’s eyes. A glint that looked very much like fear. “You touched him?”
Imari nodded. “Should I not have?”
Hattie opened her mouth, then closed it. “No, I’m sure it was fine.”
Well, that cleared things up. Imari pointed back toward her room. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The Reaper Rescues The Genie Page 7