Silver Master (14 page)

Celinda and her mother switched their attention to him and then back to Davis.

“What are you two talking about?” Gloria demanded.

“Nonrefundable honeymoon cruise tickets,” Davis said. “Nonrefundable deposits on the caterers' bills and the rental of the hotel ballroom and a few thousand bucks worth of flowers. Did you know that flowers are not returnable? And then there was the champagne. Didn't open one damn bottle, but I still got charged for most of it.”

“Wait a second,” Celinda said, “the cruise tickets I understand. Are you saying you got stuck with the rest of the expenses, too?”

He gave her a steely smile. “My fiancée had always dreamed of a full-blown Covenant Marriage, but her family didn't have enough money to pay for it. So, thinking I was making a long-term investment, I picked up the tab.”

Celinda winced. “Oh, dear.”

Newell shuddered. “When I think of what I would have been out if Rachel and Josh had called off their marriage at the last minute, I get cold chills down my spine.”

“Nevertheless,” Gloria said, exuding womanly wisdom, “far better to find out that things are not going to work out before a Covenant Marriage takes place than afterward.”

“I won't argue that point,” Davis said. “I'm just saying it was an expensive lesson about the fallibility of professional matchmakers.”

Celinda fixed him with an air of grim challenge. “Surely you don't mean that you would rather trust your own judgment than use a professional consultant the next time?”

He shrugged. “I don't see how I could do any worse.”

“Oh, for Pete's sake,” she shot back, “that's like me saying I'd rather do my own detective work rather than hire a professional investigator.”

“It's not the same thing at all.”

“It is, too. There is solid statistical evidence and a number of parapsych studies proving that people who follow the advice of a properly trained matchmaker are far more likely to contract happy, fulfilling marriages than those who don't use a professional.”

“Sounds like you're quoting from that book of yours again.”

“Maybe you should read it.” She folded her arms on the table and narrowed her eyes. “The statistics and the citations for the studies are all in the appendix.”

“Wow,” he said, deadpan. “It has an appendix? You know, I'm really going to have to take a look at that book one of these days.”

“If you ever get around to actually buying a copy,” she said, acidly sweet now, “I'd be happy to sign it for you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Davis saw Newell and Gloria exchange an odd look. Newell slid out of the booth and reached back to help Gloria to her feet.

“If you two don't mind, we're going upstairs to our room,” Newell said genially. “Been a long day, and it will be an ever longer, busier one tomorrow.”

Davis got to his feet and shook Newell's hand. “Thanks for the drink, sir.”

Gloria leaned down and kissed Celinda on the cheek. “Good night, dear. See you in the morning.” She straightened and looked at Davis. Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “I'm so glad we had this little chat, Davis. I feel I know you much better now. See you at the wedding.”

“Good night, Mrs. Ingram.”

Newell and Gloria disappeared into the hotel lobby, heading toward the elevators.

Davis sat down and looked at Celinda.

There was an acute silence.

He cleared his throat. “I think that went well, don't you?”

CELINDA WAS TOO STUNNED TO RESPOND. THEN THE AB
surdity of the situation struck her like a flash of ghost light.

She put her head down on her folded arms and started to laugh.

“Damn, are you crying?” Davis slid around the curve of the booth and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It's okay. I know trying to pretend that I'm your new boyfriend isn't easy, but you're doing just fine.”

She dared not raise her head. She was laughing too hard. Maybe she was sinking into hysteria.

“Your parents didn't seem too upset when they left,” Davis said, apparently having decided to take an encouraging tack. “Look on the bright side. Whatever they're thinking right now, it's a good bet that they don't have a clue that I'm here as your bodyguard. That was the whole point, remember?”

She managed to get herself under control with an effort of will. She raised her head, aware that her eyes were damp and her face was probably flushed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She used a napkin to wipe her eyes. “I don't know what came over me. Blame it on the stress.”

“You were laughing,” he said, sounding deeply relieved. “I thought—never mind.”

“I can't believe we got into that stupid argument in front of my parents.” She felt the odd laughter start to well up inside again and swallowed hard to suppress it. “Probably all the champagne at dinner. What were we thinking?”

“Don't know about you, but I was thinking that I was getting damned tired of hearing you tell everyone I was just a casual friend.”

She stilled, astonished. “Well, it's not like there are a lot of useful terms to describe a man in your position. I was doing my best to make our relationship sound normal.”

“But it's not normal, is it?”

“Listen, you're the one who said this little charade was going to be simple, remember? ‘Just stick to the truth as much as possible,' you said. If you will recall, I wanted to discuss our cover story in detail on the drive here, but you insisted on blowing off that plan.”

A suspicious gleam of amusement darkened his eyes. “Are we arguing again?”

She sat back, slouching in the seat. What was wrong with her? It was the stress.

“No. I think I've had enough quarreling for one evening,” she said very politely. “It's time I went to bed. I'm going to be wearing pink tomorrow. I need my sleep.”

 

DAVIS OPENED THE DOOR OF HER ROOM USING HER KEY A
short time later. She switched on the lights. Max and Araminta were sitting side by side on the table looking out at the night through the sliding glass window.

“We're back,” Celinda announced.

Araminta and Max tumbled down off the desk, rumbling greetings. Celinda reached down, scooped up Araminta, and plopped her on her shoulder. Araminta immediately began making little cooing noises in her ear.

“I think she wants another snack,” Celinda said. Morosely, she eyed the empty dishes on the table. “Looks like she and Max went through everything I ordered from room service for them before we left. I'm going to have to break open the minibar. Do you know how much they charge for the stuff inside a minibar?”

Davis picked up Max. “Keep a record. I'll put it on the Guild's tab. Wyatt can afford a few snacks out of a minibar, trust me.”

“I believe you. Problem is, how eager is he going to be to pay for things like minibar snacks if he doesn't get his relic back?”

“Well, he won't be thrilled,” Davis said.

She groaned. “You know, I could do without having the head of the Cadence Guild annoyed at me. I'd have to leave town. Again. It was bad enough pulling up roots here in Frequency because I pissed off a para-psycho member of the local Guild.”

His expression hardened. “Regardless of the outcome of this case, you're not going to be forced to leave Cadence.”

“Hah. Easy for you to say.” She crouched down in front of the minibar and de-rezzed the little seal. “You don't know what it's like living in a town after you've made a high-ranking Guild person mad, trust me.”

“I do trust you,” he said quietly. “But I think it's time you tried trusting me.”

Something in his words froze her in place. She looked up at him. It was a long way, given her current position close to the floor. When she finally got to his face, she saw that his features were set in grim, implacable lines.

“Great,” she said evenly. “Now I've annoyed you, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

She rose to her feet, chagrined. “Sorry. Things have been a little stressful lately. I really do need a good night's sleep.”

He inclined his head, coldly polite. “I'll say good night, in that case.”

He walked to the connecting door. “I'll open this again after you're in bed.”

He went into his own room, Max on his shoulder, and shut the door very quietly.

She stood looking at the closed door for a long moment. This was clearly one of the downsides of hanging around with a bodyguard. They were in the habit of giving a lot of orders.

Araminta made encouraging little noises in her ear.

“Right.” Celinda said. She went back down on her knees in front of the minibar again. “First things first. A girl's gotta eat.”

 

SOME TIME LATER SHE TURNED OVER IN BED FOR WHAT
was probably the thousandth time and finally gave up trying to sleep. She pushed herself up on her elbows and glumly studied the door that connected her room to Davis's. It was open, but the crack was no more than a couple of inches wide.

It was impossible to see into the other room, but she had been listening for quite some time, and things were awfully silent on the other side of the door. Evidently Davis wasn't having any trouble sleeping.

At the foot of the bed, Araminta's blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. She was awake.

“Don't tell me you're hungry again,” Celinda whispered.

Araminta scampered across the covers, batted her blue eyes, and made hopeful sounds.

“Okay, all right, I wouldn't want you to starve.” Celinda got out of bed, pulled on her robe, and padded across the room to reopen the minibar. There was enough green light to illuminate the contents. “What's it going to be? Cookies or nuts?”

Araminta dithered briefly and then fixed her attention squarely on the nuts.

Celinda plucked the nuts out of the bar, straightened, and tore open the package. She dumped the contents into the dish on the table. Araminta hopped down and began munching daintily.

“At least you're not out there in the dark running around with Max in a strange city,” Celinda said softly. “What did you do with that stupid relic?”

Araminta ate a nut.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble we're in?”

Araminta displayed no sign of concern. She selected another nut.

Celinda went to the window and looked out at the view of the night-darkened city. The hotel was located in the heart of the Quarter, which was suffused with the pale glow of Old Frequency.

She opened the sliding glass door and moved out onto the balcony. The air was warm and balmy. Resting her elbows on the iron railing, she savored the gentle rush of alien psi and contemplated the night.

The intriguing aura of some very familiar energy pulsed nearby.

Startled, she stepped back and turned quickly, pulling her robe more tightly around her.

Davis was lounging against the railing of his balcony. He was wearing only his trousers. His feet were bare and so was everything else above his waist. Moonlight and the faint glow of the green wall's radiance gleamed on his shoulders. He looked at her with eyes as mysterious as the night. Max sat beside him on the railing.

“Couldn't sleep?” Davis asked.

“Araminta was hungry again.”

“Well, sure. It's been at least an hour and a half since you last fed her. What did you expect?”

“I swear, it's as if she's been possessed by the spirit of a teenage boy.” She paused. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

“About the case?” she asked cautiously.

“And other things.” He paused a beat. “Mostly other things.”

She wanted to ask him what other things he was thinking about, but she reminded herself that she didn't know him well enough to push into his private space.

Max chose that moment to hop across the three-foot span that separated the two balconies, showing no fear of the three-story drop to the ground, and landed on the railing next to Celinda. He chortled politely to her and then tumbled down to the floor. He disappeared into the room to join Araminta on the desk. Celinda heard more crunching noises.

“Bet I could do that,” Davis said, studying the distance between the two balconies.

“Do what? Jump from your balcony to mine?” She shuddered. “Don't even think about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be a dumb-ass risk to take, that's why not. Good grief, you might miss, and then I'd be stuck having to explain to Mercer Wyatt why he's never going to get his relic back.”

Davis's teeth flashed in a brief, wicked grin. “Nice to know you care.”

“Yeah, well, I've got a vested interest in you. The way I look at it, you're all that's standing between Araminta and me and the boss of the Cadence Guild. I want you to stay safe. No taking chances. Got it?”

“Got it. Hang on a second.”

He vanished into his room. She waited for him to reappear, wondering what was going on.

A moment later he walked out onto her balcony.

“Made it,” he said. “Rest assured, no extreme risks were taken.”

She shivered but not from the cool night air. He was standing very close to her, so close that she could detect a lot more than his psi power. She was intensely aware of every aspect of him. Her pulse was already thrumming faster, and she could feel the now-familiar flutter in the pit of her stomach.

“Good to know,” she whispered. “Because I really don't want anything to happen to you.”

He smiled slowly. “I appreciate that, even if the only reason you want me around is because I'm your shield against the Cadence Guild.”

The intimacy of the night and Davis's own uniquely compelling aura enveloped her, affecting all of her senses. Sensual excitement effervesced through her veins. Mr. Almost Perfect.

She was suddenly sure that she could not only leap from one balcony to the next, she could probably tap dance along the railings. Who cared about the risk?

“That's not the only reason I want you around,” she said.

She was amazed by the sound of her own voice. It was downright sultry. She was positive that she had never sounded sultry before in her entire life.

Davis gripped the lapels of her robe with both hands and tugged her closer. “You're sure?”

She was having trouble breathing now. But in a good way. A thrilling way.

“I'm sure,” she managed.

He tightened his grip on her robe and kissed her.

Impossible as it was, she was certain that Davis's energy and her own somehow came together in a resonating pattern that set fire to the night. She was suddenly swept up in a delirious cascade of invisible psi.

Just like last night,
she thought. She should probably call a halt to things before they went too far. Just as she had last night. One-night stands were against all the rules.

But with this man she no longer cared about the rules. She didn't want to waste time planning for the future because, given Davis's attitude toward matchmaking and Covenant Marriage, they probably didn't have one. Tonight might be all they had together, and she intended to seize the moment.

That realization alone was enough to tip the scales of common sense.

She closed her hands fiercely around his shoulders, glorying in the feel of sleek muscle and warm male skin. He responded with a heavy groan and deepened the kiss.

When she sighed a little and parted her lips, he shifted his hands, tightening them around her waist. He was heavily aroused. She could feel him and knew that he wanted her to be aware of the effect she was having on him.

Exhilaration arced through her. She suddenly felt incredibly sexy and wildly feminine.

Boldly she broke free of the kiss to press her lips to his throat. A shudder went through him. Without warning he scooped her up into his arms, high against his chest, and carried her into the darkened bedroom.

She thought he was going to put her down on her bed. Instead, he took her through the connecting door into his room and stood her on her feet. She saw that the covers had been kicked down to the foot of his bed. Davis had obviously had as much difficulty sleeping as she had.

She was so intoxicated with the heady, exuberant wonder of what was happening that she almost lost her balance.

Davis caught her with one hand, undid the sash of her robe, and peeled the garment off her shoulders. It pooled around her bare feet, leaving her in her pale green satin nightgown.

Davis smiled slowly at the sight of the gown. He ran his fingers under the edge of the tiny straps, just touching her skin.

“Nice,” he said. “Very nice.”

“I got it on sale last month,” she confessed, before stopping to think. “I've been saving it for a special occasion.”

He looked pleased. “Like tonight?”

She smiled. “It certainly looks that way.”

His laughter was sexy and incredibly intimate. “Looks like this is my lucky night.”

He picked her up and put her on the rumpled bed. Straightening, he stripped off his trousers and tossed them aside. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.

A tremor of unease went through her. But before she had a chance to reconsider the wisdom of what was about to happen, Davis came down beside her on the bed. He leaned over her, trapping her between his braced elbows, and began to kiss her hungrily.