I Gotta Feeling

by Kress, Alyssa

  Outside 408, he stopped.

  "Oh, this is my room, isn't it?" Aletheia looked down at the envelope for her card key. With the air of one unused to the exercise, she inserted the key in its slot. A light blinked green by the knob and she hurriedly pushed the door open.

  If he were a true gentleman, Felix supposed, he'd carry her bag in for her. He didn't dare.

  Meanwhile, she didn't bother to pick the thing up. Instead she stood by her open door and looked up at him. There was a strangely beseeching look in her eyes. "I really ought to be tired, oughtn't I?" she asked. "I drove all the way to Los Angeles and back up to Big Bear, then flew here to Las Vegas. I should be exhausted."

  He gazed down at her. Repressed sexual desire made him feel slow. Was this an invitation? Unfortunately, he doubted it. "Um, you're not tired?"

  She shook her head, still with that odd beseeching expression. It appeared she wanted reassurance. Consolation? She wanted one of those tender, caring things he'd never been able to give another human being.

  "Perhaps anxiety has you keyed up," he suggested, giving the tender, caring thing a try anyway.

  Her brows lowered. "You're probably right."

  He was? About anything personal? Hell. Would she walk through her door already?

  Shaking her head, she said, "Do you think—?"

  Felix froze. Was she naïve enough to ask if they could talk? Because that certainly wouldn't be all that'd happen if she invited Felix into her room.

  She did not invite him in, but she did stand there. Her questioning expression changed. Slowly it turned...knowing. Her wisdom, Felix now realized, was an enormous part of her appeal. Right now, she knew what he was thinking.

  He stopped breathing. Was she going to retreat? Shrink back, cringe?

  She did none of those. She merely stood there and watched him. Felix had the impression he was under examination. She was waiting to see what he would do, how far he would push matters.

  How far she could trust him.

  Not that far, Felix thought, blood rushing to his head. Despite years of cold, hard discipline—and all his better judgment—he leaned toward her. If he could only touch...for just one minute...

  He came close, as close as he'd come that morning in Pi's closet, close enough to feel the heat and damp of her skin. He pause—or tried to pause, to think—then leaned even closer.

  His lips met hers. The sensation made his eyes drift closed. God. Beneath him, she was so soft and sweet, one feminine hand coming up to press against his chest.

  He drew in a sharp breath, his response to her growing full, potent, hungry. Oddly, sexual desire had never roused Felix's dark side, but the darkness rushed up now. Unrestrained, tumultuous, and chaotic. But instead of rushing to leash the stuff, Felix let it be. Actually, he wallowed in it. Reveled in the power and strange beauty of all those wild emotions. The terrible want.

  Oh, how he wanted.

  He wanted this kiss and her passion, and also—also—what? Something, though. Something big. Something so big it couldn't even hide in his vast darkness.

  Shocked by the idea, Felix lifted his mouth from hers.

  Aletheia's eyes drifted open. Her gaze was dazed at first, then as she focused, surprise took over.

  Felix pressed his jaw tight. She might well look surprised. What had he done? Kissed her? After listing to himself all the reasons not to? Clearly, something about this woman tested his control.

  "What?" she asked in a whisper. "What was that?"

  As if he were about to answer. Felix took a step back. "Good night," he muttered.

  She kept staring at him. Meanwhile, one hand went up to her mouth.

  It was a gesture of protection. Feeling a wry twist inside, Felix took another step back. Had she been able to glimpse his darkness? Surely not, or she wouldn't still be standing here, but running into her room and locking the door against him.

  Felix nearly laughed. If Aletheia roused his darkness every time he got close to her, he wouldn't have to worry about falling into the complications of a sexual affair.

  She'd make damn sure nothing of the sort ever happened.

  He turned and stalked toward his own room next door.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "You can rest easy." Parker's voice sounded oddly amused on Thursday morning over Aletheia's cell phone. "Felix's field marshal has arrived, and appears suitably fearsome." An oddly smug note entered Parker's tone. "She will no doubt keep us all firmly in line."

  Aletheia would have asked Parker more about the situation, but she was interrupted by a firm knock on the door connecting her posh hotel room to the one next door.

  "Breakfast is here." Felix's rough-smooth voice carried easily through the wood. "Whenever you're ready."

  "Oh." Aletheia put a hand over the receiver on her phone and directed her voice toward the door she'd closed and bolted the night before. "Breakfast. Good. Fine."

  She spoke back into her cell hurriedly, feeling flustered. "I've gotta go now, Parker. Later."

  "Later," he agreed cheerfully.

  Aletheia pressed the phone off and sank onto her over-stuffed mattress. Her stomach felt like a hamster was trying to use it as an exercise wheel. Just because of Felix's voice.

  An hour ago, he'd called asking what she'd like him to order her from room service. Room service. Taking care of things, once again. Just as he had at Pi's house, and at the airport in Big Bear, not to mention finding someone to watch her family.

  She was fairly certain taking care of things was simply Felix's way. He had no idea how seductive Aletheia was finding it. For so long she'd been the only person taking charge, the only one shouldering responsibility.

  And then there was that kiss. A shaky sigh escaped her. Felix's kiss the night before had zigzagged through her like a lightning bolt. She'd felt lit up, alive...vitally important.

  Rising from the bed, Aletheia ran a hand along the coverlet, delaying her trip through the connecting door. Not for a second did she imagine Felix had intended that kiss to influence her. The way he'd wiped his face clean of emotion afterwards told her the kiss had not been part of any planned strategy. It had been an accident, one he'd hoped he could erase.

  His evasiveness only ended up drawing her in. What could he be hiding? And why? A terrible curiosity was gaining hold of her. Along with it came a growing difficulty in viewing Felix as her antagonist, despite her earlier resolve. Her resistance to him was failing fast.

  Aletheia whisked her hand from the bed. She had to stay rational here. In cooler moments she knew good, solid reasons to remain distant and suspicious of Felix. He had his own agenda, one which did not mesh with hers. He was an antagonist. Not on her side.

  Smoothing down her jewel-green knit blouse, Aletheia walked over to the connecting door, unbolted her side, and walked through.

  A small table had been set with a linen cloth, real china, and silverware. Felix stood by the dresser, talking on his cell phone.

  The hamster in Aletheia's stomach took another scramble. In a charcoal gray pair of chinos and a black polo shirt, Felix looked both capable and invincible.

  Capable, yes, but invincible? Why did she have the feeling he was nothing of the sort, that within him lay a deep current of vulnerability?

  "I understand." Felix's voice was cool and businesslike. "I foresee no problem on my end. Thank you, anyway, for keeping me informed." With his eyes, he indicated Aletheia should take a seat at the table. Meanwhile, he listened to the other end of the conversation. Aletheia was just pulling out a chair when, to her shock, Felix said into his phone, "Goodbye, Mother."

  Aletheia stopped, one hand on the back of the chair. His mother? That cold and businesslike tone of voice had been directed toward his own mother?

  As he looked over, he must have seen the surprise in Aletheia's expression. "My mother is a federal judge in Florida." Putting on a casual smile, he pocketed his cell phone. "She wanted me to know about an unpopular ruling she just made in a land seizure cas
e. Expects some negative press about it."

  Aletheia cleared her throat. "I see."

  "It shouldn't impact our business here," Felix mused, coming toward the little table.

  "No," Aletheia replied weakly. "I wouldn't think so." That's what he and his mother talked about: federal court rulings? To Aletheia, Felix's assumption of nonchalance as he stood across the table looked like a defense mechanism. Behind his cool mask, Aletheia suspected a world of emotion lurked.

  That kiss...

  She drew in a sharp breath. No. Despite the kiss, and the immense yearning she'd felt in it, she wasn't getting drawn in here. Letting out her breath, she sank into a chair beside the table. Felix's obvious difficulty in dealing with his emotions was not her problem at all.

  "So your mother is a federal judge," she heard herself say, fishing anyway. "That's pretty impressive. Was she a judge while you were growing up?"

  Felix pulled out the chair on his side of the table and sat down. "Since before I was born."

  So his mother had been a woman with a demanding career since Felix's infancy. Perhaps she hadn't spent much time with her growing son. That might explain the protective layer Felix had developed. Not that Aletheia cared about Felix's inner life.

  Not even enough to wonder if his mother's time-consuming career truly explained Felix's impressive ability to shield his emotions. "What about your father?" Aletheia blurted out.

  Felix went absolutely still. His gaze lifted to hers. "What about him?" His chill tone warned her off better than words.

  Aletheia, who'd been terrified the day before by nothing more sinister than an empty house, heard herself charge right into this far more dangerous territory. "Yes, your father," she spoke up, cheerfully disingenuous. "Is he still alive? What does he do?"

  Felix's wolf-like eyes bored into her. Slowly, he said, "I don't know my father."

  Stunned, Aletheia met his feral gaze. He didn't know his father? Did that mean his father had died before he was born? Or perhaps his father had abandoned the family. A dizzying thought occurred. Did Felix mean that he literally did not know who his father was?

  Very deliberately, Felix unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. Just as deliberately, he looked up and smiled at her. "Let's eat, shall we? The food's getting cold."

  Back off. He was saying it again. Marking territory, setting up fences. But in a very polite way, as if he thought he could keep her from noticing.

  She felt the urge to ignore his warnings, to pry herself in, having toed this much of a hold. The more Felix tried to shut her out, the more convinced she became someone ought to slip in.

  She was not that someone, however. Oh, no. She had other fish to fry: her brother and his welfare, for one.

  Aletheia unfolded her own napkin. Thick slices of French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar sat before her, just as she'd ordered. She suppressed whatever kind thoughts the perfect meal Felix had ordered her might inspire. She must stick to her objective. "Have you thought about what you're going to do today?" She looked up at Felix with deliberate challenge.

  He looked back at her, a tiny smile quirking one corner of his mouth. "I was planning to make myself available to you, should you have need of my assistance."

  Aletheia hoped her raised eyebrows looked sufficiently repressive. "Your assistance is exactly what I do not want."

  Humor lurked behind Felix's mock hurt. "Indeed."

  Aletheia cut into a piece of French toast. "You never promised you wouldn't catch Benjamin, only that you didn't expect me to help you do so."

  "Ah. You noticed that, did you?" Felix dug into his omelet and forked up a bite. "So you think I'll catch him behind your back."

  "Or right in front of my eyes."

  A snort escaped Felix as he stuck the fork into his mouth. "We're at something of a stand-off then, aren't we?"

  "No." Aletheia cut another piece of French toast. "Whatever I do today, you aren't coming with me."

  Eyeing Aletheia, Felix ate another bite of his omelet. He chewed carefully before putting his fork down. "I'm not sure how you're going to stop me. On the other hand, I can't make you go anywhere, can I? That's what I mean about a standoff." He leaned over the table and his gaze intensified. "It doesn't have to be that way, though. Think. We could work together. What will it take? What can I promise that'll allow you to trust me?"

  Nothing. She should have told him that straight off. It should have been easy. Instead, Aletheia sat there, immobilized by his eyes, knowing how capable he was, feeling the pull of him, that strange combination of strength and need.

  She didn't have to be alone here, trying to find her brother. She could obtain the best assistance possible, if she could think of some promise for Felix to make her, some loophole-proof guarantee he wouldn't betray her brother.

  Into the silence came an electronic performance of "I Gotta Feeling."

  "That's your cell phone, isn't it?" Aletheia had come to know the ringtone well over the last twenty-some hours.

  With a disgusted grunt, Felix straightened. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the screen, then gave another disgusted grunt. "I have to get this."

  He stood and looked around, apparently for a place to be private, for he ended up sailing toward the bathroom, slipping inside and closing the door after himself.

  Well! Aletheia stared at the cream-colored paint on the door. Unhappily, she wondered if the caller was a woman. Why else would Felix need privacy? Then her eyes popped wide. Actually, there was another reason. In fact, a far more likely reason.

  The call concerned Benjamin.

  With growing fury, Aletheia rose from her seat. Felix wanted her to trust him, to let him come along when she went looking for Benjamin. But he wouldn't even let her listen to a phone call—about her own brother.

  With her teeth grinding, Aletheia looked over the set table. She saw an empty glass next to a carafe of orange juice. Snatching up the glass, Aletheia proceeded to the bathroom door. It was what Felix would do, she assured herself, setting the glass against the door and putting her ear against the glass. He'd take measures to overhear just exactly like this.

  It worked like a charm.

  In about two minutes, Aletheia was very glad she'd sunk to Felix's level.

  ~~~

  It had been quite a few years since Felix had taken a phone call in a bathroom. The last time he'd probably been delivering some clumsy teenage lines to a curvaceous high school senior he'd hoped to fondle. Now he stared at the blow dryer hanging over the complimentary shampoo and cursed Yves Goddard for bad timing.

  Aletheia had been about to confide in Felix. She'd been about to trust him. At least, she'd been very close. The blood had pounded in Felix's forehead with anticipation.

  Slipping into the bathroom to take a 911 call from a client was not going to advance Felix's ambitions in the trust quarter. But then, letting Aletheia listen to the call would have been worse. Felix's client wanted Benjamin caught, used, and then drawn and quartered.

  "What is it?" Felix asked Goddard.

  "They found Boris and Heather."

  "Who?"

  "My two missing lab techs. Remember, we thought Benjamin might have recruited them to help him make the Cloak for another party?"

  Felix frowned. "I remember."

  "They were murdered. Throats cut. A sanitation worker found them early this morning in a dumpster ten miles outside of town."

  Felix stared blankly at the complimentary shampoo. "Murdered," he muttered.

  Goddard laughed weakly. "Apparently we were wrong about thinking Benjamin had swayed them to his side."

  "Hm." Felix was glad he'd decided to take the call in private, after all. Murder. That was all he'd needed. Aletheia had been in a bad enough situation before this news— "Have the police made a connection to you?" he asked Goddard.

  "Indeed they have. I've been answering questions all morning." Goddard sounded beleaguered. "I had to tell them about the Cloak, of course, and
how Benjamin sabotaged it. I was as discreet as possible, but the product's secrecy is no more."

  An issue that fell squarely at Felix's door. It was his fault Benjamin was on the loose to begin with. But he didn't have time now for guilt. "Do they consider Benjamin a suspect?"

  "Unfortunately." A note of bitterness crept into his client's tone. "Even if you found Benjamin now, he'd be thrown in jail. He wouldn't be able to help me fix the Cloak, assuming he could be persuaded to do so." Something between a snort and a French expletive escaped him. "This is a complete disaster."

  "Even more of a disaster for Boris and Heather, I think," Felix returned dryly.

  "Oh, yes, yes. Of course." Goddard was instantly, if unconvincingly, regretful. Clearly, his own problems came first.

  Meanwhile, Felix wondered how to manage his own disaster. There was no way he could keep Aletheia from discovering this news about her brother. Once she knew, she'd never believe Felix could be on her side.

  At the same time, he needed her trust more than ever. More than ever, he had to protect her. Someone connected to this was willing to kill.

  "I guess this means you're excused," Goddard said, breaking the short silence.

  "Pardon me?"

  "You've felt responsible for finding Benjamin. Now there's no reason to find him. Even if Benjamin were found, he'd go straight into police custody. That wouldn't get me my Cloak back."

  Felix frowned. "Very true."

  "Unless circumstances drastically change, there's no way for me to get a working Cloak."

  "Not while Benjamin is wanted by the police," Felix agreed, listening carefully now. What was Goddard really saying? Did he think Felix would be willing to find Benjamin, but turn him over to Goddard instead of to the police? Did Goddard imagine Felix owed him obstruction of justice?

  Felix decided not to ask Goddard if he'd heard recently from his own client, Colonel Viceroy. He didn't want questions about why he wanted to know. "Perhaps Benjamin will drop out as a suspect," he remarked instead, thinking hard. What could the two lab techs have done that would have made Cooper want to murder them?