protesting cat on the bed before standing where he was told and allowing a rather grim looking photograph to be taken.
Marcus grunted at the picture. “You look just like a criminal. Perfect.” He looked back at the door and placed his hand over the edge of the ward. “You have got to show me how to do this.” He didn’t wait for a response, just ran his hand over the wall before looking back over his shoulder. “Can you let me out?”
“Gladly.” Mathieu placed his hand on the doorjamb and twisted the wards just
so
, expelling the other man with enough force to throw him into the far wall.
“You don’t have to get pissy about it.” Marcus called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall.
Mathieu just shook his head and closed the door, enjoying the silence and the companionship of the cat.
C hapter Eighteen
Jenn came early the next morning. Her blisters were mostly gone, but it still hurt to climb the stairs. The dishes and silverware on the tray she carried clattered with each step.
When she reached the door at the far end of the hall, she saw that it was open just a crack.
Shifting the weight of the tray in her arms, she knocked on the door. It swung open under her fist and she saw Mathieu sitting on the end of a bed that had not been slept in, looking out the window at the garden below.
He’d dressed in some of the new clothes, a short sleeved dark gray shirt and a pair of tailored black trousers with some black leather loafers. His hair curled around his collar, still wet from the shower.
Both he and the cat in his lap turned to look at her at the same time and she was struck by how similar the gazes were in their intensity. The sight wiped away her first thought of how handsome he was in the morning light.
“Good morning!” She made to walk through the open door and felt the tingle of his wards on her skin, just like in the mountains. It didn’t hurt, but the resistance stopped her this time. She paused and then asked, “May I come in? I brought you some breakfast.”
“Of course. You are always welcome.” He waved her forward and she was suddenly able to come in the rest of the way.
Placing the tray in the middle of the bed, she raised an eyebrow at it and asked, “Did you sleep well?”
“As well as I ever do.” The cat stepped delicately from Mathieu’s lap and walked over to investigate the tray of food.
Jenn lifted the napkin covering the plates. “I don’t know what you like so I just got you a little bit of everything. Here’s a croissant, and a baguette. Some honey, some chocolate spread, a little cheese, some jam. A little fruit. Marcus insisted on making your coffee for you—said he knew just how you liked it, but I can’t imagine anyone drinking it that sweet and light.”
Mathieu shrugged with one shoulder and picked up the mug. “I can’t imagine anyone choking down what he drinks either.”
“Philistine.” Jenn picked up a second mug from the tray. “You should drink it black, like this. Black as my heart.” She giggled as she sipped it and rolled her eyes in pleasure at the flavor.
Mathieu shook his head and then tore off a small piece of cheese and fed it to the cat. “Your heart is far from black. Trust me when I say I’ve met much worse.”
“The food is for you. You need to eat.” Jenn spoke firmly this time. “Trust
me
when I tell you that cat eats better than any person in this house.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does. But that doesn’t mean I can’t share with him, does it?” He tore off a small piece of croissant and nibbled it. “Happy?”
“No.” She paused and then asked hesitantly, “Do you need to eat? I guess I should have asked that first.”
He smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I know I can go a long time without eating or being hungry, but I also know that I enjoy it upon occasion.” He shrugged. “I suspect the answer is somewhere in the middle between ‘no’ and ‘yes.”
The cat meowed for attention and got another
Marcus grunted at the picture. “You look just like a criminal. Perfect.” He looked back at the door and placed his hand over the edge of the ward. “You have got to show me how to do this.” He didn’t wait for a response, just ran his hand over the wall before looking back over his shoulder. “Can you let me out?”
“Gladly.” Mathieu placed his hand on the doorjamb and twisted the wards just
so
, expelling the other man with enough force to throw him into the far wall.
“You don’t have to get pissy about it.” Marcus called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall.
Mathieu just shook his head and closed the door, enjoying the silence and the companionship of the cat.
C hapter Eighteen
Jenn came early the next morning. Her blisters were mostly gone, but it still hurt to climb the stairs. The dishes and silverware on the tray she carried clattered with each step.
When she reached the door at the far end of the hall, she saw that it was open just a crack.
Shifting the weight of the tray in her arms, she knocked on the door. It swung open under her fist and she saw Mathieu sitting on the end of a bed that had not been slept in, looking out the window at the garden below.
He’d dressed in some of the new clothes, a short sleeved dark gray shirt and a pair of tailored black trousers with some black leather loafers. His hair curled around his collar, still wet from the shower.
Both he and the cat in his lap turned to look at her at the same time and she was struck by how similar the gazes were in their intensity. The sight wiped away her first thought of how handsome he was in the morning light.
“Good morning!” She made to walk through the open door and felt the tingle of his wards on her skin, just like in the mountains. It didn’t hurt, but the resistance stopped her this time. She paused and then asked, “May I come in? I brought you some breakfast.”
“Of course. You are always welcome.” He waved her forward and she was suddenly able to come in the rest of the way.
Placing the tray in the middle of the bed, she raised an eyebrow at it and asked, “Did you sleep well?”
“As well as I ever do.” The cat stepped delicately from Mathieu’s lap and walked over to investigate the tray of food.
Jenn lifted the napkin covering the plates. “I don’t know what you like so I just got you a little bit of everything. Here’s a croissant, and a baguette. Some honey, some chocolate spread, a little cheese, some jam. A little fruit. Marcus insisted on making your coffee for you—said he knew just how you liked it, but I can’t imagine anyone drinking it that sweet and light.”
Mathieu shrugged with one shoulder and picked up the mug. “I can’t imagine anyone choking down what he drinks either.”
“Philistine.” Jenn picked up a second mug from the tray. “You should drink it black, like this. Black as my heart.” She giggled as she sipped it and rolled her eyes in pleasure at the flavor.
Mathieu shook his head and then tore off a small piece of cheese and fed it to the cat. “Your heart is far from black. Trust me when I say I’ve met much worse.”
“The food is for you. You need to eat.” Jenn spoke firmly this time. “Trust
me
when I tell you that cat eats better than any person in this house.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does. But that doesn’t mean I can’t share with him, does it?” He tore off a small piece of croissant and nibbled it. “Happy?”
“No.” She paused and then asked hesitantly, “Do you need to eat? I guess I should have asked that first.”
He smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I know I can go a long time without eating or being hungry, but I also know that I enjoy it upon occasion.” He shrugged. “I suspect the answer is somewhere in the middle between ‘no’ and ‘yes.”
The cat meowed for attention and got another
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