Sarai's Fortune (10 page)

“I asked you a question,” Zac all but growled.

She pivoted to face him, pausing for a brief moment as it dawned on her that he was wearing only boxers, his chest bare. She put on her most innocent expression, batting her big baby blues up at him for all she was worth.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go down to the gym.”

Thankfully, she’d thought this story up ahead of time, giving truth to the lie by wearing her workout clothes with a running jacket zipped up over her sports bra.

Pointedly, he looked behind her, checking out the hallway, then raised his eyebrows. “Where’s George? Or Scott?”

She flapped an unconcerned hand. “I didn’t want to wake them so late since I wasn’t leaving the building.”

Zac merely crossed his arms over his chest. A move Sarai was starting to realize meant he wasn’t buying it and he wasn’t going to take much more.

She bit her lip. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have grabbed them.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Or you,” she hastily added. “It won’t happen again. I just…wasn’t thinking.”

Zac unfolded his arms, and Sarai allowed herself to relax a little bit. “Okay.”

Together they started walking back toward their suite. Once inside, she feigned a yawn. “Well…goodnight.”

She’d taken a few steps away when he said, “What was wrong with the elevator?”

Sarai halted in her tracks and briefly closed her eyes. Shoot. He wasn’t buying it. She swung around to face him, innocent expression back in place. “It was taking too long.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “At midnight?”

“I like taking the stairs.”

He took a step closer. She backed up a step.

“You got enough exercise in the gym today with me.”

Another step forward. Another step back.

Now she crossed her arms defensively. “I’m tired but can’t sleep. My brain isn’t exactly working at the moment.”

Another step forward. Another step back. Right into the wall.

“Something’s not working all right. I know there’s something wrong, but I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Another step forward. He was in touching distance now. Sarai wanted to look away, but couldn’t. This must be what it felt like to be a seal being stalked for food in the arctic. Predator and prey.

Zac shook his head. “We’re not going on like this.”

Another step forward, now he placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head. Sarai briefly debated fighting him off. But where would she go? It wasn’t smart to poke a stick at an already pissed off predator.

So she stayed very still and waited for his next move. She wondered if he could see the pulse fluttering at the base of her neck.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

Sarai felt blind-sided by the question. “No!” The word flew out of her. God, if anything she felt completely safe with this man.

His thick, black brows drew down over his eyes as he puzzled through his thoughts. “But I make you nervous.” He stated it rather than asked.

Sarai tipped her chin up. “What makes you say that?” she asked with her best bravado. She immediately ruined the effect by licking her lips in a nervous gesture.

His eyes tracked the movement, then his own lips twitched slightly. “Because every time I come near you, you run for cover.”

“No. I just like my personal space. I’m a cougar shifter.” Hah! At least that was a plausible explanation. Cougar shifters were natural loners. They weren’t social, didn’t like to be crowded.

He said nothing for a long moment, a moment during which all she could hear were her rapid breaths and her pounding heart. The scents of pine and spice filled the air.

“Talk to me,” he urged in a low murmur. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is that’s driving you away.”

Sarai clamped her lips closed. She was tempted to confess everything, wanting desperately to rely on this strong, steady man to take on the burden. But that was exactly why she couldn’t. What little she knew about Zac told her that as soon as she told him her visions, he would ignore all risk to himself in order to protect her. Hell, her own visions backed that up. He took his obligations seriously.

Zac leaned in closer. She could feel the heat of his body. “Talk. To. Me,” he urged in a low voice. His deep brown eyes compelled her to divulge her secrets.

Sarai took a deep breath and pulled her gaze from his, looking down. “There’s nothing to tell,” she whispered.

A quiet growl of frustration rumbled from his chest. He was so close she could feel the vibrations, even though they weren’t touching. Zac straightened one arm to take all his weight as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, ruffling it into dark spikes.

Then he leaned in closer and took her face between both his hands. “You’re going to learn to trust me someday, sweetheart.”

Then he shocked the hell out of her when he lay his lips over hers in a kiss so achingly gentle she felt tears mist her eyes.

Before she could give into the urge to run her hands over his bare torso, he pulled back to gaze into her eyes—serious and controlled. Sanity intruded.

“What was that for?” Sarai murmured huskily.

His lips quirked in a smile, as he trailed his fingers across her check in a barely-there caress. “A kiss between friends?”

Sarai pursed her lips. “Are we friends?”

“I hope so, honey. Because I definitely don’t feel antagonistic toward you.”

Sarai had no idea how to respond to that.

“Someday you’ll figure that out. In the meantime, no more escape attempts. Hmmm?”

Since she couldn’t promise anything, Sarai just stared at him, saying nothing.

Zac sighed and stepped back. He ran both his hands through his hair again. “It’s late. Better get to bed.”

But she could hear the frustration in his voice, see it in the tense set of his wide shoulders. Sarai bit her lip but nodded. Sidestepping him slightly, careful not to let any part of them touch, she slipped into her room and closed the door with a soft click.

Damn.

Zac exited the elevator and immediately caught the faint sound of a piano being played upstairs. Was Sarai listening to one of his classical MP3s? Before heading to the suite, he stopped at George and Scott’s room. Scott answered his brief knock.

“How’d it go today?”

“Fine.” Scott’s face told a different story.

“What?”

“She hasn’t come out of the suite today.”

“At all?” Zac frowned. Sarai had developed a bit of a routine over their weeks in New York. She’d cook breakfast for the troops—as she called them—then, according to George and Scott, she’d read for a while in her sunroom while she left the cleaning up to them. After that, they’d go out for some sightseeing. They’d have lunch out. Back to the hotel to work out after which she’d cook dinner.

Zac, along with the all the troops except George and Scott, were usually away all day. He’d return home to find Sarai curled up like a contented cat on the couch, reading her e-reader or on the secure laptop he’d given her.

But she always went out during the day.
Always.

“No, boss. She said she was a little tired today.”

“Okay.”

He thought about the previous night. Some sixth sense had drawn him out to the corridor where he’d discovered her about to disappear down the stairs. He’d been furious with her for trying to leave, then pretending like she wasn’t. An anger driven by his fear for her. She was his to protect.

Then he’d cornered her and kissed her. A chaste kiss, but he’d felt it through his entire body. Probably one of his stupider moves, but she’d responded. He’d felt it in the sweet pliancy of her lips. Still, she’d refused to confide in him. He knew something else was forcing her actions. He guessed a vision was causing her behavior. His frustration had hit monumental levels when she’d kept quiet. How could he help her if he didn’t know what was going on with her?

“Even in the apartment, you guys need to keep a sharper eye on her.”

George hopped up off the bed, where he’d been flipping through a magazine and joined them at the door. “Why? What’s up?”

“I caught her trying to leave late last night.” His lips thinned. “Probably why she’s worn out today.”

“You think she’s trying to do a runner?” George asked.

Zac shook his head. “I have no idea what’s going on, but now we need to guard against the people trying to get to her, as well as against her trying to get away.”

Scott and George both nodded seriously. “On it.”

“She’s a sweetie. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that girl,” George added. Scott nodded his agreement.

“Good,” Zac said.

He turned to go up the spiral staircase to the suite but paused when Scott said, “You’re back early.”

“We hit a wall in the negotiations. Decided to call it a day. Regroup and discuss again tomorrow. The others decided to go out for happy hour.”

With that, he headed upstairs. As he got closer, the sound of the piano got louder. Curious, Zac moved into the suite on quiet feet then stood stock-still. Sarai sat at the black piano running her fingers over the keys in an intricate, flawless performance, playing a piece he didn’t recognize. She had no sheet music in front of her, which meant she was playing by memory…and she was incredible.

Zac stayed quiet, remaining where he was. He allowed pleasure to wash over him along with the music she was coaxing from the baby grand. The song was cheerful though with an oddly melancholy undertone, a dance of sound that reminded Zac of the woman playing. One minute open and laughing, the next closed off and serious.

The passion with which she played was riveting…and immensely sexy. Suddenly, that kiss was in his mind. What would have happened last night if he’d taken it up a notch the way he’d wanted? What would it feel like to have that passion aimed his way?

She brought the piece to its resounding conclusion, took her hands off the keys, and laid them in her lap.

“That was really good.” Zac hid a grimace at the inadequate words. That had been one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard. Why couldn’t he just say so?

Sarai’s head snapped up at his words. The bench screeched a protest as she abruptly stood up and started to cover the keys.

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

She was wearing one of her buttoned up numbers instead of her casual jeans. He’d hazard a guess that his kiss had driven her back into her touch-me-not outfit and sighed inwardly. It seemed to be a case of one step forward, twenty steps back with her.

“Don’t stop playing just because I’m here.”

She shook her head, not looking at him. “No. I was done anyway.” She tucked the bench under the piano and took a few steps toward her room.

“What was that?” He was strangely reluctant to let her leave.

She paused before turning toward him. “
La Campanella
by Franz Liszt.”

“Campanella?”

Sarai smiled softly. “It means little bells. It’s always been one of my favorites. Took me ages to master it.”

“Little bells,” Zac mused. “It fits.”

“I’ve always thought so.” They fell silent.

Instead of continuing on to her bedroom, Sarai shifted on her feet. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. Zac waited as she battled some internal question.

After a long moment, she shifted to face him more fully. “You’re home early because negotiations aren’t going well. Right?”

Zac rocked back on his heels. “A vision? Or a guess?”

She surprised him further when she paced across the room to stand right in front of him. In his space in a way he doubted she’d ever allow if she wasn’t intent on what she was about to tell him.

“Don’t make a deal with these people.”

“What? Why?”

Her expression turned slightly blank. Her eyes moved as though she was watching a movie he couldn’t see.

“It’s hard for me to see it clearly, but someone else is pulling their strings. The deal will end with you”—she tipped her head to the side as she worked through her visions—“it will end with you in their debt. And…” She paused again. “Hang on to the land. Wait two years. Then sell to a group represented by a yellow cross on a field of lavender.”

Zac cross his arms. “We’re here for this deal. The Timik has agreed it’s time to sell a portion of our land and buildings.”

Sarai held up both hands. “I’m just telling you how I see it. If you wait two more years, you’ll double what you make.”

Zac’s eyebrows flew up. “Damn.”

She gave him a crooked grin. “This gift can be handy sometimes.” The grin faded. “And there’s something off about the people you’re dealing with now.”

“What?”

She scrunched up her face. “I don’t know. I can’t see that part. Just…don’t trust them.”

“How do you suggest I bring these discussions to an amiable conclusion?”

Sarai frowned up at him. “Do
I
look like I know anything about business?” She poked him in the chest with her finger. “
You
figure it out.”

“Where are you dragging us today?” Scott asked.

They were standing on the corner of a busy intersection not too far from the apartment. Sarai preferred to walk to their tourist attractions whenever possible. She loved the hustle and bustle of the big city, so very different from the Carstairs Compound in the quiet wilderness of western Canada where she’d spent most of her life. Peculiar for a mountain lion shifter to like the pulse of crowds, but she still felt alone. What’s more, she liked it.

Sarai grinned at Scott’s put-upon tone. “You know you love everything I’ve picked to visit so far. Especially the Yankees game.”

Scott grunted but ruined the effect with an answering grin. “So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well, I was thinking we might—”

Sarai broke off as she was assailed by a vision. The screech of tires, the screams, the panic of people on the street, the horrible sound of first impact, followed by the grinding sound of metal on metal.

Sarai came back to herself with a snap. “Everybody get back!” she yelled. No one moved around them.