found out exactly what, X wanted to keep her close. The only way to do that without having to hog-tie and gag her was to be as cordial as he could manage. Which wasn’t really his best act, but something told him the end would totally justify the means.
“There’s something dangerous going on at Athena’s. It’s better if you’re out of the line of fire.”
She looked worried as she turned away from him to put her cell phone on the dresser. “Look, I came back to DC to get my life back on track. If I can’t dance, I can’t do that.”
The last was spoken softly, again, as if she really hadn’t meant for him to hear it.
“It’s not safe, Caprise. You have to understand we’re only trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need any protection,” she said, spinning around to face him once more. “I’ve done a pretty damn good job of taking care of myself for the past five years. I can handle it now.”
“Can you, Caprise?” X took a step closer to her; the distance was beginning to make his cat a little edgy. “Because I’ve got to tell you, every time your phone rings or beeps you get this look in your eye.”
She tried to turn away from him. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being straight with you because I figure you can respect that since you’re all about facing the truth. I’m not trying to lie to you about what’s going on and why you need protection. So you should think long and hard about coming clean with me.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” she replied when her gaze came back to his.
“You don’t,” he agreed. “But you owe it to your brother to not jump back into his life only to get yourself killed.”
She was about to say something else but X held up a hand to stop her. His patience—what little of it he possessed—was quickly growing short. Inside, his cat was making a low growl, insisting on touching, tasting, feeling once more. X, however, did not think that was a good idea.
At that moment Caprise completely disarmed him by sighing so deeply he thought for sure tears would follow. Her right hand went to her right hip, where she rubbed absently. He’d been around a lot of females in his time and while Caprise Delgado was definitely unique even beyond her DNA, he figured he could tell when a female was about to break down.
Of course he was wrong. Caprise would never cry. Not over something like this anyway. But for just a moment she did look completely defeated, as if the right decision just could not be made clear. As if on cue to torment her further that damn cell phone chirped once more.
This time his growl was loud enough that she must have heard him, because she looked from the dresser where the phone was to X. He didn’t speak and neither did she.
Chapter 11
“So she’s a shadow,” Sabar said thoughtfully.
He was sitting at the long spit-shined oak table Bianca had purchased and moved into his dining room. They were in his brownstone in DC, the one he’d been slowly renovating since their first town house was burned to the ground by Rome and his cohorts. After Bianca’s arrival a month and a half ago, the decoration of the house had taken on a new urgency. It appeared that after living in a mansion-size dwelling in western Africa, she’d found a new hobby in decorating. Or as Darel would say, she had a knack for spending Sabar’s money. Darel needed to learn some respect where Bianca was concerned, and Sabar was just about ready to force-feed him a healthy helping of it. But right now he wanted to know what had gone down last night and why his second-in-charge was in his face telling him things he definitely did not want to hear.
“She’s a shadow,” Darel replied.
He sat in one of the high-backed chairs that Sabar had forgotten the name of. He wasn’t eating, was barely looking at Sabar. The Rogue had been acting weird since they’d fought those shadows on the highway; everything about him seemed a bit different than before. Even his
“There’s something dangerous going on at Athena’s. It’s better if you’re out of the line of fire.”
She looked worried as she turned away from him to put her cell phone on the dresser. “Look, I came back to DC to get my life back on track. If I can’t dance, I can’t do that.”
The last was spoken softly, again, as if she really hadn’t meant for him to hear it.
“It’s not safe, Caprise. You have to understand we’re only trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need any protection,” she said, spinning around to face him once more. “I’ve done a pretty damn good job of taking care of myself for the past five years. I can handle it now.”
“Can you, Caprise?” X took a step closer to her; the distance was beginning to make his cat a little edgy. “Because I’ve got to tell you, every time your phone rings or beeps you get this look in your eye.”
She tried to turn away from him. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being straight with you because I figure you can respect that since you’re all about facing the truth. I’m not trying to lie to you about what’s going on and why you need protection. So you should think long and hard about coming clean with me.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” she replied when her gaze came back to his.
“You don’t,” he agreed. “But you owe it to your brother to not jump back into his life only to get yourself killed.”
She was about to say something else but X held up a hand to stop her. His patience—what little of it he possessed—was quickly growing short. Inside, his cat was making a low growl, insisting on touching, tasting, feeling once more. X, however, did not think that was a good idea.
At that moment Caprise completely disarmed him by sighing so deeply he thought for sure tears would follow. Her right hand went to her right hip, where she rubbed absently. He’d been around a lot of females in his time and while Caprise Delgado was definitely unique even beyond her DNA, he figured he could tell when a female was about to break down.
Of course he was wrong. Caprise would never cry. Not over something like this anyway. But for just a moment she did look completely defeated, as if the right decision just could not be made clear. As if on cue to torment her further that damn cell phone chirped once more.
This time his growl was loud enough that she must have heard him, because she looked from the dresser where the phone was to X. He didn’t speak and neither did she.
Chapter 11
“So she’s a shadow,” Sabar said thoughtfully.
He was sitting at the long spit-shined oak table Bianca had purchased and moved into his dining room. They were in his brownstone in DC, the one he’d been slowly renovating since their first town house was burned to the ground by Rome and his cohorts. After Bianca’s arrival a month and a half ago, the decoration of the house had taken on a new urgency. It appeared that after living in a mansion-size dwelling in western Africa, she’d found a new hobby in decorating. Or as Darel would say, she had a knack for spending Sabar’s money. Darel needed to learn some respect where Bianca was concerned, and Sabar was just about ready to force-feed him a healthy helping of it. But right now he wanted to know what had gone down last night and why his second-in-charge was in his face telling him things he definitely did not want to hear.
“She’s a shadow,” Darel replied.
He sat in one of the high-backed chairs that Sabar had forgotten the name of. He wasn’t eating, was barely looking at Sabar. The Rogue had been acting weird since they’d fought those shadows on the highway; everything about him seemed a bit different than before. Even his
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