The Naughty List (18 page)

Throughout the week, there were free skiing lessons, ice-skating, special dinners, dances, movie nights, crafts, snow-shoeing, s’mores around the campfire, hikes, and then everything culminated in a New Year’s Eve party.

Last year, she’d gone through and picked the least sentimental things to attend. This year, she wanted to do the opposite. Singing carols was something that should make her bucket list. And how long had it been since she’d heard
The Night Before Christmas
? Too long.

Something banged against the wall as her strange neighbor Mr. Geist thunked an object against it—probably a suitcase.

What would he be attending? Not that she’d let him ruin her holiday. It was silly to think he might be causing her time loss moments, right?

She was being ridiculous.

Ridiculous.

She’d take a shower and then go to the dining room for dinner, and she wouldn’t give him another thought.

She blew her plans immediately when she entered the lodge’s dining room a half an hour later. He was sitting by himself and, hell, she was going to get to the bottom of this.

She strode through the dining hall just as he was taking a sip from a glass. As she slid into the seat across from him, he smiled over the rim.

“Please, have a seat.” He set his glass down, licking his lips.

Jeanie was right—his being hot did matter. She was going to have a hard time concentrating on anything other than his mouth.

“Why are you following me?” She jabbed a finger in his direction.

He raised his eyebrows and looked around—the picture of innocence. “I was here first.”

“No, not right now. You know I’m not referring to that. You know something about what keeps happening to me. I know you do.”

The waiter delivered his food and a glass of water for her. Zeit smiled, nodded his thanks, and sat back without touching it.

When the waiter turned to her, looking expectant, she glanced around and reached for the menu before shaking her head. “Uhh, can I just have what he’s having?”

After the waiter left, Hannah stared at his plate. It smelled good. “What did I just order?”

“Quail gizzards filled with snake bile on top of maggots.”

Her stomach turned even though she knew he was lying. Idiot.

Zeit sat there—doing his intense and carnal thing. “Be careful what you ask for, Hannah, because you might not appreciate the answers you receive.”

When he said her name, a chill inched across her skin, ending with a fluttering in her already anxious stomach. Being attracted to him would be so inconvenient.

“What are you doing to me?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

She glared at him. Saying it out loud would sound utterly stupid. “I keep having these lapses of time. One minute, I’m in one place, and the next, I’m in another. And four times now, I’ve seen you walking away from me when it’s happened.”

“So, you’re accusing me of doing something to your memory? Or of stalking you?” He took another sip of his drink as if he was only mildly interested in her response.

She opened her mouth to say something before snapping it closed. What
was
she accusing him of? It all sounded silly and impossible, and he’d be around this whole week. Every time they saw each other, she’d feel humiliated that she’d actually thought…

Oh, who cared? She was going to get brain cancer from all this testing if she couldn’t get to the bottom of things.

“You’re doing something to time. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I don’t think your name is just an odd little coincidence.”

For a blink, she saw something in his eyes and a quick half-smile. “It’s a family name.”

“So, your entire family manipulates time?”

He crossed his arms. He still hadn’t started eating. “You do realize what you’re saying sounds fantastic and implausible, don’t you?”

She crossed her arms too. “You do realize that you haven’t denied it, right? You keep twisting everything to make me doubt myself, but if there’s one thing all these freaking tests keep proving—it’s that there’s nothing wrong with my brain.” She dropped back against her chair.

They sat there, staring mulishly at the other.

The waiter delivered her meal into the stubborn silence and even refilled Zeit’s glass.

Then, Zeit shrugged and picked up his fork and knife and began eating. “It’s Chicken Roulade filled with Gouda, bacon, and shallots over a bed of wild rice. It has a cider-glaze. The waiter recommended it.”

Oh, that did sound good. She draped a napkin across her lap. “I’m not leaving until you give me answers,” she said before taking her first bite. “Mmm.” Their waiter had good taste—this was amazing.

“You’ll look awfully foolish sitting here by yourself forever, then. Maybe I’ll stop by and visit you tomorrow.”

Her shoulders drooped, and she slouched in her seat. She really had no threat to hold against him. It’s not like she could tell anyone what he was doing—if he was even doing it. And maybe he wasn’t. She set her fork down as the food soured in her stomach.

“I think I’ll just finish this in my room.” If she
could
finish it… She stared down at her plate. Why had she thought confronting him was a good idea? For all she knew, maybe she was losing her mind, and now she’d as good as shared that diagnosis with the first guy she’d been attracted to in a while.

Hey, my name is Hannah Lyons, and I’m certifiable. How about we spend the next week in close contact?

Crap.

She looked for the waiter.

Zeit set his fork and knife down and slid his hand across the table to cover hers. “Stay.” His voice was softer, less arrogant, and she met his gaze. He was still dressed in black, but the dim lighting smoothed the hard planes of his face. He really should be hunting vampires… for a night job… on the side.

“Will you tell me what you’re doing?”

“No.” She went to pull her hand from under his, but he tightened his grip and added, “But I am the one doing it.”

“You are?”

A miniscule nod, and the muscles in his jaw went taut.

“You’re messing with my memory?”

“No.”

“You’re messing with time?”

He didn’t deny it. He just pulled his hand from hers and went back to eating. Her hand was cold without the heat from his palm, and she slid it off the table self-consciously.

“Will you stop doing that?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He set his utensils down again and looked into her eyes—as if he was gazing directly into her soul. “Because I’m the one keeping you alive.”

Her heart pounded as if he
was
a near-death experience, not preventing them. There had been a lot of weird things that had happened. And a couple of the times she’d been moved, something had happened right after—something that would have been bad for her if she hadn’t moved. Maybe he
was
helping her. “So, you’re like a guardian angel?”

He shrugged. “I’d never claim something so altruistic and—” his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth “—pure.”

Oh, wow. Her skin flushed with heat. He was scary sexy. Maybe Jeanie wasn’t the only fan of that particular look. “But you’ve been saving my life—keeping me alive?”

He shrugged again. Then, he tilted his head. “For now.”

She glared at him. It’s like he couldn’t help being enigmatic. “What do you mean for now?”

“It’s not your time to die, so I’ve been preventing it.”

“But it may be in the future?”

“That’s up to the Fates.”

“I like to think I make my own fate.” She’d been on her own for enough years that independence was a necessity and a way of life.

Zeit snorted. “Yes, and that’s why I’ve had to intervene thirty-eight times.” Then, he nodded. “Eat your chicken. It’s getting cold, and you’ll miss out on the caroling.”

“Maybe I’m not going to the caroling.” She was considering going to the caroling. And his presence was becoming less of a deterrent. If she was honest with her feelings and that pounding heart of hers, he might be a lure.

“It’s your choice, but as someone familiar with the length of days allotted, I’d advise you seize the day.”

Okay, so she’d go to the caroling.

Chapter Three

No one had figured out what they did since ancient Greece, and she’d torn it out of him in under a half an hour—with the mere threat of leaving him.

That left Zeit somewhat nonplussed.

If the Fates chose Hannah again on New Year’s Eve, he might face even
more
qualms this year. Not fewer.

Perhaps, getting her out of his system would require getting her into his system first. Then again, some things sounded more reasonable before you implemented them. Hannah might have thought something similar about confronting him just before she’d threatened to take her food back to her room. Actually, it might not have occurred to her that it was a threat. If anything, she’d looked defeated.

He should have let her do it—let her convince herself that she was a fool and possibly insane, but he couldn’t. It was as if his hand and mouth had bypassed his intellect and started making their own decisions when it came to Hannah.

Never in his centuries upon centuries, would he have guessed she’d challenge him.

That was… bold.

Especially since he weighed twice as much as her petite frame, and he’d been told he was intimidating. Apparently, not intimidating enough. Not to Hannah.

They’d barely talked the remainder of the meal, and she’d eaten quickly—with a hand that trembled every now and again. What had unsettled him the most about the experience was the strange sensation of wanting to grasp her shaking hand in his and tell her everything would be fine—that she was safe.

She wasn’t safe.

And things weren’t fine.

Odds were she had a week left to live, and he’d spend the entire time saving her life over and over again. He wanted to lock her in her room but, then again, he’d have no hope of getting her in or out of his system if he did that.

That
was why he’d stopped her from leaving earlier.
That
explained it. If she’d left, he’d have a difficult time convincing her she should let him into her life. It was necessary to his plan. His plan that still included stealing her lifetime on New Year’s Eve—if the Fates required it.

He exhaled in relief. That was all it was. He was still in control. He was master here.

Staring into his empty suitcase, he faced another conundrum. What did one wear when not attempting to appear so intimidating mortals would rather look away?

He turned on the television in the room and flipped through channels until he came to some sort of festive program filled with all the emotional babble he hated. It was unlikely anyone would blow up a building in this movie, and it wasn’t sports. He might have never paused on such a channel since television had been invented.

The mortal male was declaring his feelings for the mortal female with long drawn out pauses for more dramatic impact. Boring. But, sacrifices must be made at times on behalf of mortality. And he’d probably make more headway with Hannah if he fit in with the males she was more accustomed to dating.

The man on the television pulled the woman into his arms. “This will be the first Christmas I’ve ever,” extended, tedious pause—during which the male lead stared down into the female’s eyes, and Zeit became even more bored, “really known what this time of year was about. You’ve brought hope into my life.”

Zeit raised his eyebrows. The woman in the film was blinking shiny eyes. Did women enjoy a man showing so much weakness? No. This was Hollywood’s version of reality and overblown like every other aspect of life they attempted to recreate. Hannah would laugh at such a man. Hopefully. He would.

Still, the man’s frame was similar to his—smaller, of course, but similar, and that dark maroon sweater looked comfortable. He waited for the camera to zoom out. Jeans. Interesting. He’d never worn jeans. Some of his brothers had. They said they chafed if the cut was too tight. The camera backed up even more and… no, there were lines that must be drawn, and loafers were unacceptable. Besides, it took a year to break in a pair of boots so that they were comfortable.

The door to Hannah’s room opened and closed. She was going to the caroling. He should have known a mortal who’d confront a time holder and accuse him of toying with her wouldn’t be afraid of a little singing.

He closed his suitcase and opened it. Pulling out the jeans, Zeit evaluated the possibility of them chafing. Looked too small. He tossed them back in and tried again.

Four minutes later, he walked out.

A horde of mortals gathered in the lobby beside an evergreen that brushed the high ceiling of the two-story lodge. He didn’t typically care for crowds—though, that might be because he rarely had reason to be in them. Not for very long, anyway. Some of his brothers enjoyed humans en masse. Other than movie theaters, concerts, and sport arenas, he never sought out crowded locations for entertainment.

Hannah was on the other side of those gathered, but her gaze met his as they announced the first song—an old carol,
Deck the Halls
. He held her gaze across the sea of mortals as the group sang.

She licked her lips.

He grinned.

She blushed. And then the elderly couple beside her chided her for not singing. She broke eye contact to take the songbook they held out for her.

At first, he only watched her, and then a young child ran up to him and handed him a songbook. He’d always liked young mortals. The boy continued to watch him long enough that Zeit realized the expectation was for him to sing. Well, he’d try anything once. Other than wearing loafers.

The singing created an unexpected sensation in his chest—not entirely pleasant. Zeit rubbed at his chest. He’d never had this warm feeling when he’d sung along at concerts… and he’d been at every major mortal venue throughout the years.

They moved through the songs in the book he was holding. The boy who’d originally handed him the songbook was playing peek-a-boo with his sister between Zeit’s legs when Mr. Cowper brought out an antique metal star with sharp points. An image from his father slipped into his head as Mr. Cowper reached the second floor. Zeit stepped back and over the little boy as he edged to the outside of the crowd before snapping his fingers and freezing time.