Hero Unmasked: 3 (Heroes of Saturn) (12 page)

* * * * *

Dhavin let himself into his cousin’s house and closed the door behind him with a loud slam. “Kristos. Quit fornicating and get out here. I must speak with you immediately.”

“Uh, good morning?” Brett greeted him in the hallway in her pajamas and sex-tousled hair. “One morning, Dhavin. One morning a week I’m allowed to sleep in. Do you have any respect for your superior?”

“I have a great deal of respect for you, but we are not on duty. Therefore you are not my commanding officer at this time. Sorry, cousin.”

She emitted a sour grumble and shot him a glare over her shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen. “You say that now, but wait until you’re assigned to Breathalyzer enforcement duty for a month.”

Oooh. Dhavin cringed. Normally verifying photos from the home monitoring systems wasn’t so bad a task, however Mr. Johnson thought it was funny to take his test completely nude. A seventy-year-old’s half-erect penis was not a pleasant sight.

No bother. Fiona was worth Brett’s retaliation. “I wouldn’t have come, except this is an urgent matter.”

“This better be good, cousin.” Kristos greeted him with a solid smack to the back of the head. “Your key is for emergency use only.”

Dhavin watched with envy as Kristos kissed his wife on the cheek and set about making a pot of coffee. They moved in harmony, each anticipating the other’s needs. After all these months, it still took a moment for him to adjust to the sight of Kristos with hair the same blond shade as his mate. During the mating ritual, more than the couples’ emotions melded together. Their hair and eye color changed, with one gaining the other’s coloring, to identify the mated pair. The last time he had seen Kristos on Skandavia, his hair had been as blue-black as his brother’s.

He tried to imagine what outcome a mating with Fiona would produce. Their coloring was very similar already. Would she even notice the bond if he spoke the words without her knowing?

“Dhavin.” Kristos’ shout drew him out of his musings like being dropped in a pool of ice water. “I’m five seconds away from allowing my wife to whip you with her pistol. Tell me what is so important.”

“Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.” He took the offered cup of coffee and waited for Brett to take her seat before he announced, “I met a woman.”

Kristos raised a light brow. “That’s it? I thought you meet women all the time.”

“You make it sound like I go prowling for female companionship when you know that is far from the truth. I meant I met
the
woman. My future mate.”

Brett chuckled into her mug. “Would this be the woman you mentioned the other day?”

“The same.”

“I take it you were able to change her opinion of you.”

“Yes. Well, no. Um…not exactly.”

She heaved a sigh as her head tipped back. “What is it with the men in your family? Why can’t you woo a woman like normal men? At least have the decency to tell her you are going to tie your emotions together for eternity before you actually do so. Give the girl a fighting chance.”

“May I have some credit? I’m not like my
borehund
cousins. My woman will be fully aware when I speak the Sacred Vows.”

“Who’s the girl?” Kristos buttered his toast without acknowledging the slight against his courtship practices.

“Fiona Corrione.”

Brett gave an uncharacteristic squeal of delight. “From The Sugared Thistle? I love that shop. And Fiona is so nice, but quite the ball-breaker from what I’ve heard. So what is it you’re not telling us?”

He sucked in a breath and held it while he thought of the best way to approach his dilemma. His mouth dropped open and twisted in several attempts and with each try, he realized the size of the hole his deception had dug.

“You see, she refused to accept a date with me, so when I discovered she had an interest in the Chameleon, I pursued her from behind the mask.”

Two sets of pale-green eyes stared at him with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Pursued her? How?” Kristos asked. “What, you walked into her shop dressed in the royal uniform and said, ‘Hello. I’m the Chameleon. Would you care to join me for a meal?’”

“Not exactly. We had a few encounters, one aborted date, but grew closer during the storm.”

“Aha, that’s where you went every night, instead of going back to Harlan’s,” Kristos crowed.

“He was safely ensconced in the city with Lucian and Amaryllis, and even if he wasn’t, I would have carried him myself to you here in order to spend the night in Fiona’s arms.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Brett waved her hands. “You had sex with her?”

“Yes.”

“With the mask on?”

“Obviously.”

She sighed and pressed the pads of her fingers against her closed eyes. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Fiona would not agree to a date with you as Dhavin, yet she has spent time with you as the Chameleon, intimate time, and doesn’t know who you really are?”

Thank the Gods, she understood. “Yes!”

“How is that possible? She doesn’t have a clue that you and the Chameleon are the same man?”

“No. And I have not sensed any realization on her part.”

“And she’s never seen you as the Chameleon without the mask? Never asked about your origins?”

“She said that my secrets are mine to entrust with her when I feel she’s earned them. I find her understanding to be among her most appealing traits.”

“What secrets about the Chameleon has she earned?”

There was an undercurrent to Kristos’ question that raised the hair on his arms. For all the trouble the family had gone to in protecting their origins, his cousin’s query was valid.

“Most of them. To a point.”

“You hedge questions like a junkie shielding their supplier. Straight answers, please.”

“I’ve told her about Skandavia, but that I’m the only one of us here on Earth.”

“What have you told her about our,” Kristos pointed at both of them, “arrival to this planet?”

“An abbreviated version of your story.”

Kristos swiped a hand over his face. “Fantastic.”

“I trust her and I will tell her the entire truth. Eventually.”

“When?”

“Once I have her trust in me, which is why I am here. Yesterday she saw you as the Chameleon and you didn’t acknowledge her.”

“Maybe because I wasn’t aware we were dating.”

“What was more damaging was she saw you two flirting. She believed the sheriff was having an affair.”

Brett backhanded Kristos in the arm. “I told you to cool the touchy-feely when we’re in public.”

“Then stop looking so sexy in your uniform.”

She dropped her head in her hands. “Fuck. Do you think anyone else saw? How many other people think I’m a cheap slut?”

“Calm down,
alskata
.” Kristos rubbed his hand down her spine. “I don’t believe anyone thinks that. Fiona was probably hyperaware of the Chameleon’s actions and misinterpreted what she saw.”

“Or so we hope,” she muttered.

“No. Now she understands that the only affection is the kind one has for family.” Dhavin hoped his smile was reassuring, but Brett didn’t look convinced. “In the meantime, Kristos, if you see Fiona again, please remember she is the love of your life and treat her accordingly.”

“Excellent. Does that mean I can suck her tongue down my throat?”

“No!” came the heated response from him and Brett.

“It was only a suggestion.”

Brett stood with a disgusted sigh. “I don’t see how the
Llanos
line has continued this long if the men were like you. Have you given any thought to how Fiona’s going to react once you tell her the truth? Which you are going to do any day now, right?”

“She’ll understand.”

“You hope. I’d wish you luck, Dhavin, but I think you are going to need a miracle.” She kissed the top of his head on her way out of the room. “I’m off to the shower. If I lose my access to her salted caramels because of my association to you, I will retaliate.”

Brett’s certainty that he would fail to win Fiona’s heart made Dhavin truly question his actions for the first time. Of course he didn’t want to lie to her, but she made pursuing her so bloody difficult, what other options had there been?

He dropped his head in his hands and peeked at his cousin between his fingers. “Have I truly fucked up, Kristos?”

Kristos drew in a breath. “Define fucked up.”

The hot breath of his groan dampened his palms.

“Don’t fret yet. Tell me true, cousin. Are you Fiona’s?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

“Not so fast. Think on it. To tell her the truth involves putting more than yourself in a potentially dangerous situation. The secret of our people does not rest solely on you.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Kristos was right. Dhavin closed his eyes and looked deep into his mind. He pushed aside the memories of Fiona’s lips brushing his skin and the velvet clasp of her body holding him tight, for it was more than sex he wanted to share with her. Instead he focused on the soft smile she wore when listening to his stories, the way her eyes narrowed when she concentrated on a task. He thought about how she loved her family and the way she treated the customers in her store as if everyone were special.

“Yes. I am hers. When I am with her I feel…home, if you can call it that. I don’t think that is an emotion here on Earth, but with her, I feel whole.”

“I understand exactly what you mean.” Kristos’ gaze flitted to the door his wife had departed through. “Now, is she yours?”

Any warmth he felt at the memories of Fiona dissipated as if Kristos had snuffed out the flame. “I’m not as certain as I once was. But I have to try. If I don’t, I will regret it for the rest of my life, and believe me, I have done many things I should have regretted and don’t, but this, I know will haunt me forever if I don’t at least try.”

Kristos smiled and slapped him on the back. “Then I am happy for you and will do anything I can to ensure your success. You have sacrificed everything for this family. It is the least I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“In fact, I’ll start now by checking on how much ice we have, because I see a ball-kicking in your future.”

Dhavin flashed him a tight smile and an obscene gesture even as his gut tightened with the knowledge that his cousin may be correct.

I am obligated to work late this evening and cannot make our date. Hate to disappoint and promise to make it up to you. Tomorrow? All night? I need to feel you close.

C

Fiona frowned as she read the text for a third time and tried not to give in to disappointment. Only Cam could provide his brand of help, and it wasn’t his fault he was needed elsewhere. Plus there was the promise of being in his arms for the entire night once he was through. How could that not make up for the slight delay?

“What’s up?” Mags asked. “You look like someone told you Santa Claus doesn’t exist.”

“My plans fell through for the evening, but we’re rescheduling. It will be fine,” she said and slid the phone into her back pocket.

She never carried her cell phone on her during the day, but since Cam gave her his number and started texting her, the device never left her side. It was pretty juvenile, waiting with bated breath for any type of communication, but the few short texts she received meant so much, knowing he was thinking of her as much as she was him. Who knew he was so good at sexting, or that she loved the naughty talk as well? Earlier he had sent a photo of a full moon and a promise of how he’d make love to her under the pale-blue light. His words had made her wet in an instant and she had to blame the red in her cheeks to the heat of the oven.

“So, are you going to tell me who this mystery man is?”

“No.”

“Ah, come on, Fiona.” Mags followed her around the shop, sounding more interested in digging up gossip than helping with dusting the displays. “I want details. You’ve been getting some, girl, and I’m dying to know who has put that glow in that smile you’ve been blinding me with for days.”

Was her happiness that obvious? “It’s new and I don’t want to spoil anything.”

“Well whoever it is, he must be good. Does he have a brother?”

“Drop it, Mags. Can you start closing down the kitchen?”

“Fine. I’ll let it go, but you won’t hold out forever. A girl has got to dish, and sooner or later you’ll need an outlet. I can bide my time.” She pointed at her eyes with two fingers and back at Fiona in an
I’ll be watching you
gesture.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Fiona called out after her.

The bell over the door rang and she turned to greet the new guest. Chills ran down her back as she watched the lone man turn a slow circle inside the door while running his fingers through his long, greasy hair as he surveyed the room. A shudder shook her before she put a clamp on the knee-jerk reaction.

It wasn’t polite to make a snap judgment based on a first impression, but men who wore oversized, long-sleeved flannel shirts and torn jeans were not her usual clientele. Especially those whose eyes scanned the room as if he were casing the joint. Cam may be the one with empathetic powers, but right then, her inner alarm was screaming.

She wiped her hands on her apron and focused on slowing her heartbeat. Maybe he was just a kid looking for a birthday present for his mother and he’d be out as quickly as it took to pick up a box of chocolates.

Right, ’cause he looked like the kind of person who remembered his mother’s birthday.

“Hello,” she greeted with a plastic smile. “Can I help you?”

He turned in her direction and the slow grin that stretched his lips made her swallow hard and her stomach clench with apprehension.

“Yeah,” he said with a little laugh and sauntered toward her in a poor imitation of Jim Morrison’s swagger. His gaze fell to her breasts and he licked his lips as if he found what he wanted to sample. “Yeah. You can…help me. I’m looking for something sweet to eat. Something really tasty I can fill my hands with and rub my face in.”

Now she could judge him. Verdict—Mega-creep.

He approached the counter and rested his hands on the surface, leaning over in an obvious attempt to look down her shirt. Obstinacy kept her hands at her sides. She was not going to give the little turd the satisfaction of knowing he bothered her, but she did take half a step back.

“What you see in the case or on the shelves is what we have. Nothing else.”

He laughed again and took a quick glance at the sweets. “What’s your favorite, baby?”

Oh no he didn’t.

She controlled her repulsed shudder. “The pannatone.”

Actually, it wasn’t, but at twenty dollars a loaf it was the most expensive item in the store.

“I’ll take one.”

“Fantastic.”

She made short work of wrapping up the bread for transport. “That will be twenty-two eighty.”

He gasped. “For an oversized roll?”

“It’s really good bread.”

“Baby.” He handed her a couple of bills. “For that much money, it better make me come.”

Eww. She clutched his change tighter to keep from dropping it on the ground. No way was she going to bend over in front of him. As she placed the money in his upturned palm, he grabbed on to her wrist.

“Wait a sec, doll face. Let me get a look at your hands. With all of this dough to work with, I bet you really know how to use them.”

“Let me go,” she said in a tone one reserved for a disobeying dog while inside her blood curdled at his clammy touch.

Politeness only extended so far. Who did this punk think he was? Thank God Mags was only a scream away.

“I may feel better about my purchase if I got a little extra sugar to go with it.” He tugged on her arm and leaned over the counter.

Panic burned in her throat like acid as his grip tightened. “You haven’t touched it yet. I’ll take it back and gladly return your money.”

His gaze traveled back to her breasts. “I don’t want money from you.”

Customer service be damned. She opened her mouth to scream and the front door sounded a welcoming chime.

Officer Dhavin stomped into the store. He braced his hands on his hips, pulling back the tails of his coat to expose the gun in the holster within easy grasp.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said while leveling a glacier glare at the boy. “Trevor. I’m surprised to see you here. Doesn’t seem like your type of a hangout.”

Trevor let her go with a slow glide of his palm along her hand. “What man doesn’t like a treat now and then? Thanks, baby.” He winked at her. “I’ll be seeing you.”

Fiona reached for a bar towel and wiped off the sticky residue of his touch as she watched him amble to the door.

“Take it easy, pops.” He brushed past an immovable Dhavin and whistled on his way out.

“Friend of yours?” she asked with the first easy breath she’d had in minutes.

“Frequent visitor at the jail. Mostly for breaking and entering. He’s not very good at it. Did he hurt you?”

“No, he just gave me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies.”

“What are those? Is that a disease? Does he need to be quarantined?”

Man, Dhavin really wasn’t up on his slang, but his genuine alarm made her smile. “No. It means he made me feel dirty and uncomfortable. Other than that, I’m unharmed.”

“Are you certain? I can have him detained for the night, just because.”

“That’s okay. I appreciate the suggestion.”

Mags burst through the kitchen door in a cloud of perfume. “Officer Dhavin, I thought I heard your voice.”

Seriously? Now is when Mags decides to make a grand entrance? Where the hell had she been when a creep was molesting her boss?

Dhavin bent forward in a slight bow. “Good afternoon, Margaret.”

Then silence.

And more silence as the giant wall clock ticked away in loud beats.

Fiona felt her eyes widen as she stared at the handsome officer. Where was his usual flirty banter? Was he sick?

Mags blinked a few times with confusion furrowing her brow then regained her smile. “I was wondering when we would see you today. You’re usually here earlier.”

“Yes. We’re a man down tonight and I was asked to work overnight. My shift starts soon, but I wanted to stop in and talk to Fiona.”

“Oh.” Her brow puckered more and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, um, I bought a new perfume the other day. It’s called Wild Nights. What do you think?” She pushed out her chest and tilted her head back in invitation.

Dhavin’s feet stayed planted. “I noticed your fragrance when you entered. It’s very lovely.”

Fiona watched the awkward exchange with the same fascination she had for bad reality television and wished she had a bucket of popcorn. She had expected him to laugh and bend close to the young girl, brushing the tip of his nose along her skin before delivering a cheesy, but charming, line about how he found her delectable. This polite and aloof version of Officer Kilsgaard was definitely a departure from his flirtatious self, and apparently not to Mags’ liking.

With each attempt Mags made to engage the officer in conversation, Dhavin responded with clipped answers that made her eyes flash and lips purse in annoyance. Fiona had to place a hand over her mouth to hide her shocked amusement before she burst out laughing. Oh this was horrible. Hysterical, but horrible.

After Mags threw a Hail-Mary Pass move that included showing Dhavin her latest yoga trick to which he responded with a polite nod, she issued an exasperated grunt and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “Well.” She flashed them both a tight smile. “I’ve finished in the back. Do you still need me, Fiona? I have a date tonight and I plan on blowing his mind.” The narrowed glare she shot at Dhavin was probably meant to make him jealous but ended up appearing more childish than sultry. “I could use the extra time to get ready.”

“You can go. Thanks for your hard work today.”

She nodded then turned with a huff and her nose lifted in the air.

“Damn,” Dhavin said. “I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.”

She didn’t want to pry, really, but curiosity loosened her tongue. “What was with the cold shoulder?”

His eyes widened with horror. “You thought I was cold?”

“Well, for you anyway. You were very polite and usually you’re more flirty.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean.” He ran his hand over his face with a deep sigh. “I’ve come to realize that my friendliness and desire to make others happy might be perceived as more than I intend. I’m trying to be more mindful of my words and actions.”

“Wow. That’s…wow.” Whoever heard of such a phenomenon? A man who made a conscious effort to change his behavior? She had absolutely no comeback for that. “What made you come to that conclusion?”

“A good friend pointed out what I was unable to see. I appreciated their honesty.” His slight smile held secrets she wanted to be brave enough to ask about. “Anyway, Cam asked me to check on you and see if you received his message.”

“Yes. I did.”

“He feels horrible for canceling.”

“I understand. I’m sure late-night missions occur frequently in his line of work.”

Dhavin nodded, but his eyes didn’t look convinced of her answer. “Are you certain you’re not upset?”

“Of course.” She bit her lip before admitting a truth she’d been struggling with all day. She needed to talk to someone and at the moment, Officer Dhavin was the only person she could confide in. “Actually, I’m sort of glad he was called away. I’ve been thinking we need some time apart.”

“Why? What has happened?”

She shrugged and shot a pointed look in the direction of the kitchen.

“Mags is gone. I heard the door slam a minute ago.”

“Oh. Wow, you’ve got good hearing.”

“Please, Fiona, tell me what’s wrong.”

She shrugged again and set her focus on wiping down the espresso machine. It was easier to spill her guts without looking him in the eye. “Nothing and everything. I keep thinking that what we have can’t continue. I mean, what are we doing? Are we a couple, are we having an affair? And what about next week or next month? I understand his need for secrecy, I really do, but how long can that last? I feel like I’m in limbo right now and it’s not a fun place to be. I think some distance may be what we need to put things into perspective.”

“I don’t understand.” He came closer and stopped on the other side of the counter. “Don’t you enjoy being with him?”

Enjoy? Such a pedestrian word compared to how she felt. “Yes.”

“Do you care for him?” The light in his eyes turned hopeful. “Maybe, even love him?”

So much so she was ready to cry, and therein lay her dilemma. How could she be in love with someone she didn’t really know? “I care for him a lot.”

“Then what is the issue? I know he cares for you too. Is it you want more? What? I’m sure if you tell him, you will find he wants the same thing you do.”

“Right.” Her harsh bark of laughter sounded bitter in her own ears. “For how long? He’s…he’s, well, you know, not normal. God, the things he’s must have seen and done. I make cookies for a living. Sure, he enjoys my company now, but he’ll get bored. And it’s not like we can mix things up and go out together because of the mask, and—” Her breath caught as the deepest hurt broke free. “He doesn’t trust me with his identity. What if he never does?”