Justus was clearly a man who liked to be admired. Who could blame him? If he spent that much effort toning up, then he deserved the admiration that fell on him from women.
Page had no time to indulge in the whimsical fantasies of a single woman. Some days she was lucky if she even ran a comb through her hair, which was why she kept a short, choppy style.
“So, tell me something about yourself,” she pressed.
“Why do you want to know about me, Page?”
Her toes curled at the buttery texture of his voice.
“Why are you evading my questions? I didn’t realize getting to know the real Justus was top-secret information,” she said with a lift in her voice. “This isn’t a date; you can relax. I like to get to know my patients. Well, you’re not a patient, but you’re her… family. Sort of. I just wanted to pay you back for taking care of me and you won’t even let me do that much.”
“You seem to be concerned with making sure you’re even with people.”
“I don’t like being in anyone’s debt. I’m sure you understand the dangers of that,” she pointed out.
“Are you going to eat your dinner or just poke at it?”
“Don’t take up the fatherly role with me, Mr. De Gradi. I’ll eat it when I get hungry. I didn’t want this.” Page pushed the plate of uneaten steak forward an inch.
“You don’t eat enough.”
“What was it you were saying earlier? Oh yes, you don’t criticize.” Page lifted her fork and stuffed a cherry tomato into her mouth.
Justus pinched the bridge of his nose and a vertical line appeared on his brow. The tomato wasn’t nearly as bitter as her tone, and her face soured. Page’s no-nonsense attitude worked with clients, but it didn’t carry over well in social situations. She couldn’t even have dinner with a man without starting an argument. Or maybe it was something more, because she didn’t seem to lose her cool with anyone else in private conversation. She felt a blush rising on her skin.
Justus suddenly dropped a hard fist onto the table and she jumped in her seat. When she looked up, he was laughing.
Laughing! He threw back his head and a few people turned to look.
“What’s so funny?”
He lifted his silverware and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, sawing into his steak. He had a wide smile, appreciating something mighty secretive. “Just something I hadn’t noticed before. Something I should have.” He chuckled and shook his head again. He possessed a bold laugh: deep, warm, and full of life.
“Good to see you smile for a change,” she said observantly. It relaxed her to see him more human.
“Why isn’t a woman of your merit bonded… ah…” He cleared his throat. “I apologize, that’s a Mage term. What I meant is married.”
Page was suddenly famished. Hell, she felt like stuffing her face until she went into a food coma.
“Work doesn’t allow me much time for socializing. And, well, I’m just busy most of the time.”
“You were going to say something else?” he pressed.
“No, I’m workaholic.” Page looked up. “That’s all there is to that story.”
Justus set his fork down and leaned in. He gave her the look all men have when they know someone is wasting their time with skirting around the truth. His gold ring tapped impatiently against the table.
“I’m not the cat’s meow, Justus. Among Relics, I have certain… deficiencies. Anyhow, I choose to be single. I like my life.” She crunched on a cucumber.
“You,” he snapped, pointing his finger at her, “are anything but deficient.”
Page held her breath. He caught the attention of two women at a table to her right and one of them interrupted the conversation.
“Would you mind? I never can get these to open.” She handed Justus her steak sauce bottle and smiled flirtatiously.
Without removing his eyes from Page, he twisted the cap off and handed it back to the woman.
“I should have known,” she muttered. It was so obvious and yet she had completely overlooked it. He wasn’t just about confidence and money, Justus was a womanizer.
“Known what?”
She pinched a small cucumber from the salad and nibbled on the end. “Never mind.”
“I refuse to finish this meal until you tell me what you were thinking.”
She took a bite of steak and then another. “You’re one of those guys—those Don Juans who play women like a fiddle,” she said, waving her fork at the women in the room for emphasis. “Don’t bother with the compliments, Justus. I’m not here for your amusement.”
When he rose from his seat, Page knew the evening had finally come to an end. She tossed her napkin on the table and the next thing she knew, Justus had wedged himself into the booth right beside her, forcing her to scoot to the left. He lifted her plate and glass and set them both in front of her, moving his own dinnerware in front of him.
“What are you doing?” she said gruffly.
“Joining you for dinner. I prefer to sit at a woman’s side rather than across the table. Too many objects to throw. I will not sit there while you decide that my interest lies in your body when that is not the case.”
That was possibly the least romantic thing a man had ever said to her.
Ever.
Justus saw nothing attractive about her, and to prove it, he chose to sit beside her. Or maybe she’d bruised his ego and he was trying to win her affection so he wouldn’t feel so inadequate.
She pushed at his shoulder with her own. “Dinner is over, Mr. De Gradi. Let me out.”
“A good meal should not be wasted.” He looked at her over his shoulder and sharpened his gaze. Justus looked like he could have been a marine, although he smelled more like a walking GQ ad.
She scraped her short nails on her jeans, trying to remain calm. This was her client’s Ghuardian, after all. “Do you think sitting within close proximity will make me behave like one of those women who keep sexing you up with their eyes? How long are you going to keep me penned in here?”
“Until you finish your dinner,” he said, breaking apart his roll and stuffing it into his mouth. “I’d like to try out the conversation thing. I’m not sure that you—”
His words suddenly cut off.
She crammed the baked potato in her mouth, sawed the steak to pieces, and then chewed it fast and hard. If this was the only way to end this humiliation, then so be it. Page almost choked until she washed it down with a glass of water. She managed to break a record by finishing her meal in less than a minute. Steak sauce smeared her lip and chives were sprinkled all over her lap.
While something out of the norm could always be expected at a Breed restaurant, a few people from surrounding tables turned in their chairs and gave her a disgusted look.
“What are you doing?” he growled in a quiet voice.
She gave him a frosty glare. “Move. I’m done.”
Justus stood up and dropped a fat lump of cash on the table, no doubt to avoid the embarrassment of waiting for the check.
Once they were outside, she wrapped her wool coat around her tightly and hurried up the road toward the train station. The cold air burned her ears and she sniffed as her nose started to run. It usually did when the temperature dropped like that.
She had no intention of sitting inside his expensive car for an awkward drive home. Tonight reminded Page of why she never dated. Relics looked for a good match of genetic knowledge, and didn’t dwell on things like appearances or money. And yet here she was, a wealth of knowledge and could offer none of it to a future husband. Even a Mage saw her as inferior, but for reasons other than her inability to have children.
Women’s lib hadn’t quite made it to most of the races. Having to sit through dinner and converse with a man who admitted that he didn’t find her attractive became more than she could stomach.
“Page,” he called out from behind. “The car is not this way.”
“I can see myself home.” Her ankle boots pun
ished the sidewalk with an angry stride. They passed a bakery as the inside lights shut off.
“Allow me to escort you. The streets are dangerous at this hour and it’s not safe for you to be alone.”
She turned her attention to the curb just ahead. As they crossed the street, she asked, “What are you trying to prove with me? I have too much going on in my life as it is. Do you know what a big deal it is to have to explain why I can no longer work with my life partner? They don’t just pick anyone to pair you up with; it’s a tedious process to match the right people based on their skill set and it’s usually decided by the time we’re in our teens. Now I have to start over and I’ll probably have no luck in finding a good match. I don’t want you messing with my head just because I’m some kind of a conquest for your ego.”
“Page, stop. Right now.”
He stepped in her line of vision, and the two of them were facing off in the middle of a side street. Justus wasn’t even wearing a coat and the wind blew his button-up back, exposing a thin undershirt. A chill hung in the air and his breath came out heavy and thick like white smoke.
“What?” She lifted her hands in the air. “What?”
Justus was so smooth in how he went about it that it took her a second to realize that she was being kissed.
He captured her lower waist and pulled her against him. His body was warm and so was his mouth against hers. Page forgot to breathe and merely hung in his grasp as his lips softened against her own.
Justus De Gradi was a phenomenal kisser.
There was no tongue action because he wasn’t getting that serious with her. It was old-fashioned and romantic, the way every woman dreams of being kissed. Just not in the middle of a busy street with snowflakes falling on their noses. Her fingers curled around the opening of his outer shirt as if he might flee at any moment.
Page let him caress her mouth with his soft lips. Justus delivered a fervent kiss wrapped in tenderness, as if a firestorm raged beneath his calm. She shivered when his warm hand curved around the slope of her neck, and she rose on her tiptoes to get closer to him.
The planet silenced around them. Nothing existed except the hiss of his rough hand rubbing against her skin, the sound of her heart pounding against her chest, the crunch of ice beneath his boot, and the release of air from his nose. He let go of her waist and cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. Page melted like frosting on a warm cake, forgetting everything else. His touch was a flame against the frosty chill of the night.
Just as his lips were.
“Get a room!” a cab driver shouted from his open window.
Abruptly, their kiss ended and a car whizzed around them.
Out of breath, she held his gaze for only a moment. It was the most romantic moment of her life and part of her doubted that it was genuine. “I guess that makes us even for dinner,” she murmured.
Page brushed by him and after just a few paces, he shouted, “Am I that undesirable as a man?”
For a microsecond, her heart stopped.
Justus walked away and she knew that his question wasn’t directed toward her. It wasn’t ego she heard in his voice, but rejection. None of it made sense.
“No, you’re perfect. That’s the problem. I’m the one who doesn’t meet the gold standard.” Page turned and continued walking, mumbling to herself. “I’ve never been good enough.”
Tears stung her eyes and suddenly strong arms folded around her from behind. Justus radiated heat against her back and she forgot that snowflakes were falling. His grip wasn’t threatening but reverent.
And then his deep voice melted against her ear in raspy words. “Why would you say something to belittle your worth? You have it all wrong. You’re intelligent, strong-willed, sure of yourself, beautiful…”
“I almost believed you, Justus, but you blew it with the last bit.” She wiggled to get free, but he only allowed her to spin around and face him. “I’m decent-looking, but beautiful is not an adjective that accurately describes me. Why are you saying all this? I don’t understand what your interest is.”
“I want you to look at me the way you do now: mad as hell.”
Was he serious? She looked into his distant eyes, and they weren’t entirely on her, but skated off to the right.
“Women don’t see me, they’re affected by me. You cannot comprehend the torment of having to go through life knowing that the only reason women show affection is because it cannot be helped.”
“You aren’t making any sense.”
A car horn blared and she jumped, heart beating wildly as he escorted her to the sidewalk.
“I’m a Charmer, Page. Do you know what that is?”
“I’ve heard of it, uh… you can make women like you.”
“No. I have no choice in the matter. They all like me.”
“And that’s a problem because why?”
His brows pressed down and hardened his stare.
Page had two Mage clients and saw them infrequently, and only for consultations. She didn’t understand Mage issues because it was never her area of expertise.
“I don’t want them to like me. I want to be able to walk into a room and have a woman throw a glass of wine in my face, or roll her eyes at me, or tell me that my clothes are all wrong and I should do more pull-ups because I’m not strong enough. Because that would be real.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
He slipped his warm hands behind her neck and she softened her gaze. “Because aside from Silver, you are the only woman I have ever met who has not been affected by my gift. It is a simple joy to hear you criticize me and to know when you smile or say something kind, it’s because you mean it. I don’t understand why you throw away my compliments as if you are undeserving. You are nobility and grace. In another time, another life that I have lived in, a woman like you would have been coveted by kings. I am only sorry—” He cut himself off and his lips tightened. “I have not set a good example of how a gentleman should live.” Justus stepped back and tucked his chin against his chest.
The wind gathered up a few scraps of paper and scattered them about. They stood quietly, facing each other. Page struggled to absorb the gravity of the moment.
She hadn’t considered how lonely life could be if the opposite sex only wanted you because of an imbalance of energy. At least, that’s how her scientific mind thought of it. There must be chemistry in Mage energy, which would explain the variety of abilities among them.
“Apologies. I have offended you,” he said.
Page brushed away a brown tangle of hair that caught in her eyelashes. “No, you just…” She sighed, not believing the admission she was about to lay on him. Maybe then he’d realize that he was wasting his efforts. “Everything you just said about me—that was really beautiful. But I’m nothing to be coveted. The truth is, Justus…” She lowered her head and turned to the right, facing the street. “I’ve never been with a man.”
The silence was so deafening that every snowflake hitting the cement sounded like a grenade exploding.
“I’m an outcast among Relics because I can’t have children. I’m not the sort of girl that other Breed men go for because my job is demanding. I’m a dedicated worker who doesn’t have time for socializing or even cooking. My shoes aren’t designer heels—they’re a pair of scuffed-up boots and dress shoes. I read. I knit. My favorite kind of music isn’t the popular stuff on the radio—it’s Ella James and Billie Holiday. Most nights I get home so late that I fall asleep on the couch almost as soon as I walk in the house. I haven’t exactly had anyone knocking at my door.”
The admission hung in the frosty air like linen frozen on a line. Page had always been forthright with her thoughts and opinions, but now she felt exposed. It was a real moment—one where she didn’t think about the right or wrong thing to say. It was putting herself out there, right on the edge of the cliff. The wind stung against her lips and she stared at the empty sidewalk before her. The moon peered from above as
a dark cloud passed over it, and it was bright and watchful.
A loud rapping sound startled her and she clutched her chest, spinning around as her boots scraped against the concrete.
Justus stood with his arm outstretched to the glass window of a candle shop. His closed fist rapped on the glass twice more.
“I’m knocking, Page. Let me in.”
Chapter 15
I spent hours at Simon’s apartment to see how much progress he had made in reviewing some of the photographs. His place wasn’t huge, but he had a spectacular view from the fifteenth floor of his high-rise apartment building. Casual was an understatement when it came to his taste in décor. A chocolate-brown couch ran along the wall, and the shag carpet covering most of the living room floor looked like an original out of 1970. He only owned one television set. If you sat on the couch, you faced the front door with the kitchen area to the far left and the hall and a computer station to the immediate right.
Simon was in the middle of cataloguing the photographs of the lab. Word searches didn’t help with images, so I typed information for each picture on a spreadsheet for quick reference and filed accordingly.
Most of the photographed files contained medical jargon I didn’t understand—patient this, hemoglobin that. Not all the shots had come out clear, and I thought to myself that Adam would have been perfect for the job.
“This is going to take forever,” I groaned.
“I enhanced the images to remove shadows and blurry spots.”
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