Gravity (18 page)

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 punished 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