The Pleasure Slave (18 page)

T
HE REST OF THE DAY PASSED
in a blur for Julia. She closed the shop at lunchtime, hoping to spend some time with Tristan and soften his dark mood. She escorted him to the Kreager Flea Market, now open to the public as well as dealers. They meandered through the stalls, and Julia noticed the man who had sold her Tristan’s box was nowhere to be seen. Tristan remained stiff and unyielding and even scared several sellers with his glare, leaving them shaking and pale.

When she approached a table crammed with weapons of every shape, size and color, Tristan finally melted. “These are magnificent,” he said. He reverently fingered each item, gauging its weight and durability.

“I’ll give you the Glock for four-fifty,” the vender said. She had short hair, cut like a boy’s, and wide angular features that assessed Tristan and knew she’d found a ready buyer. “You can’t beat that deal, I’m telling you.”

Tristan opened his mouth to reply, but Julia laid a hand on his forearm. He paused, glanced at her. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod, then focused on the seller. “The gun isn’t worth half that,” she said, “and to be honest, we aren’t interested in it.” A knife she could allow Tristan to have, but a gun? She shuddered. “You might be able to interest us in the jeweled dagger, though. If the price is right.”

The woman eyed Julia, considering just how much she could pry from her wallet. When she realized Julia couldn’t be budged, she once again sent her attention to Tristan, hoping perhaps that he might bring Julia around. However, his features no longer boasted of fascination. No, he looked as cold and hard as granite, not a flicker of emotion betraying him. Julia almost smiled as she mentally applauded him. She made a conscious effort to keep her own features so impressively impassive.

Julia uttered a forced, breezy sigh. “Oh, never mind. I saw a similar blade the next stall over.” She gently squeezed Tristan’s arm, ignoring the warm tingles that prickled her skin, and moved two steps away from the booth. “I’m sure we’ll find a better bargain over there.”

“Wait, wait,” the woman said.

Triumphant, Julia slowly turned and faced her. “Yes?”

“Two hundred for the dagger and sheath.”

“Good day,” Julia said, and made to turn again.

“One fifty,” the woman pressed. “You’re robbing me here. You know that, don’t you?”

“One hundred for the knife, sheath and cleaning kit, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done.” A smile spread over the woman’s features.

Julia paid and handed the bag of items to Tristan. His eyes were wide and admiring as he closed his palm around the plastic. “You are more fierce than the Shakari of the Imperian market.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Aye.” He nodded, glorious heat and something else, something tender in his eyes. “Aye.”

T
RISTAN SAT
in Julia’s car, warm air trickling through the vents and soft music humming from an unidentified source. After their trip to the market, they had returned to her shop, where she had worked several more hours before closing for the day. Now they were headed home.

Home…did he truly have one?

He fingered his new weapon. ’Twas the second gift she had given him. Why? Why, when she so vehemently pushed him away? Her actions continued to confuse and surprise him. While she refused to accept his affections, she so easily cultivated them. Once, he might have convinced himself that he cared nothing for her and her actions. Once, he might have believed that he welcomed all other men into his
guan ren’s
life.

But he wasn’t that man anymore. Julia had changed him. He could not deny the tenderness he felt for her, could not deny he wanted a place in her life, not as her tutor but as her lover.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, giving him a quick glance, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside him.

“Aye.” He was hungry for her, for her naked body be
neath his, writhing, seeking. “Aye, I am hungry.” He might always hunger this way, for he saw no relief for himself anywhere in the future.

“I hope you like hamburgers.”

He merely grunted.

She eased into the parking lot of a small red-and-yellow building, then drove around to the side and spoke into a square mouthpiece. Three minutes later, they were speeding down the road again. Her house soon came into view, and she pulled into her driveway.

A red car, tinier and sleeker than Julia’s, was parked at the curb. He scanned the property and found a woman sitting on the porch, looking as fresh and pretty as a bouquet of spring flowers. She possessed dark brown hair that hung down her back in silky waves. He couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, yet her facial features vaguely resembled Julia. Same cheekbones. Same elegantly sloped nose.

The second her car ceased moving, Julia vaulted out and raced toward the porch with open arms. “Faith!”

Tristan eased out of the vehicle, taking in the scene before him. Julia exuberantly embraced the tall, slim woman. The newcomer wore the same type of blue slacks that he himself wore, and a button-down chemise. The two women were laughing, talking and hugging, sometimes doing a combination of all three.

“I’ve tried to reach you for days,” this Faith said to Julia. “I thought you’d been abducted by aliens or something.”

“Close.” Julia shot him a wry glance.

“I also called your store, but couldn’t get through
there, either.” Concern darkened the woman’s features, and she gripped Julia’s hands. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing major.” She cut him another glance. “My phones are out.”

“Then get a new one, already. I never want to worry like that again. You’re a very consistent person. If you’re not at home, you’re at work. And when you’re not at work, you’re…” She tilted her chin, thinking. “Well, you’re always at work. When I couldn’t—” Her eyes connected with Tristan’s. “Oh, my,” she breathed.

If he hadn’t been so aware of Julia, he would have missed the slight tensing of her body. What was this? A moment of jealousy? He studied her, watching intently. A tide of delight hit him. Oh, aye. The little temptress was indeed jealous. She fairly seethed with it. For the first time since she had announced her intention to practice her wiles on Puny Peter, he entertained a flicker of satisfaction. He even managed a smile.

Faith batted her lashes at him.

“Stop that, Faithie,” he heard Julia say.

The woman’s gaze never strayed from him. “Stop what?”

“Picturing him naked. He’s not available.”

“I wasn’t picturing him naked.” She smiled sheepishly. “Not now, at least.”

Tristan choked back a laugh.

Julia’s lips thinned. “Faith, I’d like you to meet Tristan. Tristan, this is my sister, Faith Anderson.”

The woman extended her hand, and he brought her
delicate palm to his lips, just as he’d seen a man do on Julia’s talking box. “A pleasure.”

“I assure you, the pleasure is mine.” Faith’s large eyes, a mix of green and blue, softened around the edges, giving her face a pixie quality. “Jules didn’t mention you the last time we spoke.”

“Tristan and I have only been together a short time,” Julia answered for him.

“Oh? How did you meet?”

“Long story, and it doesn’t matter. We’re just friends.”

At that, Tristan tensed. He was tired of Julia calling him her “friend” and her “brother.” She would call him “lover” or nothing at all. Scowling, he threw a possessive arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. He didn’t speak, letting Faith draw her own conclusion instead.

Faith did. She arched two thin brows and eyed Julia. “Not dating, huh?”

Julia tried to wriggle away. He merely tightened his hold, liking the curve of her waist against him. But the tighter he held her, the more she squirmed, and a surge of heat shot straight to his groin. Every point of contact reminded him of how they’d ended things today. Unsatisfied. And he wanted satisfaction.

“Where are you staying, Tristan?” Faith asked, her tone sharper.

“I live here with Julia,” he answered.

Julia sucked in a great gulp of air. “He doesn’t mean that like it sounds.”

Just to irritate her, he added smugly, “We also share
a chamber.” He faced her, giving her a smile that clearly said,
Deny that.

Frowning, Faith anchored her hands to her hips. “Is he serious? You’re living with a man, and you don’t think to call me? To invite me over so I can meet him?”

“Yes, we’re living together, but—” Julia shook her head and sliced a hand through the air. “Oh, never mind. There’s no way to explain.” Tossing him a backward glare, she stepped from his reach. With clipped, jerky motions, she unlocked the door and ushered her sister inside. “I’m inviting you over for supper right now. Tristan ordered eight double bacon cheeseburgers for himself. Since I don’t want him to spontaneously explode, I’m going to make him be a good boy and share with you.”

“Do you mind sharing?” Faith asked him.

By Elliea, he was beyond famished, almost near death. For lunch, Julia had fed him a tiny piece of fish. He, who had once consumed an entire Daerabar on his own. Now he was in desperate need of sustenance. But to Faith, he grumbled, “Aye. I will share.”

“Wonderful.” She smiled, revealing two sweetly shaped dimples. “I’d be happy to stay, then. I’ve missed you, Jules, and it’s obvious we need to talk more.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Relaxing slightly, Julia removed the bag from his hands, emptied the contents on the table and dispersed the food until everyone held what they wanted. “So what have you been up to lately?” she asked her sister. “Last I heard you were traveling through a jungle.”

Faith immediately launched into a tale about her latest expedition, a six-week journey through South America. Tristan only half listened. As he devoured five small slabs of meat and bread that did not settle well in his stomach, his attention focused on Julia.

He watched her eat, watched her mouth work slowly, sensually. Watched her tongue slide over the lushness of her lips. The words she’d spoken earlier played in his mind over and over, taunting him.
Sometimes, when I look at you, my hands ache to move up your chest, to feel your heart beating beneath my palms.
Had she thought of him when she’d spoken, or had she thought of Puny Peter?

Julia chose that moment to glance up. Their gazes collided. Blood coursed through his veins like a newly awakened river. His hunger for food was forgotten, and his jaw tightened right along with the rest of him. By the sudden flare of passion in the luscious depths of her eyes, he knew beyond a doubt that she’d meant the words for him. Him and no other. The knowledge sent more white-hot desire rocking through his body. At that moment, he felt more powerful than if he’d slain one thousand of his enemies.

“Hell-oo,” Faith sang. “Someone else is in the room.”

With much regret, he tore his gaze from the source of his arousal.

Julia blinked rapidly, then shook her head. Her cheeks bloomed bright with color as she once again faced her sister. “Uh, yeah, you were saying?”

A smile played at Faith’s lips. “I doubt you’re inter
ested in a lost city. No, it’s okay,” she said when Julia protested. “I’d rather hear about you and Tristan, anyway. Where did you meet?”

“At a flea market,” Julia supplied. “We started talking, discovered we had a lot in common and became friends.” The paper covering her food crackled as she folded back the corners. “That’s the whole story.”

“I’m sure.” Unconvinced, Faith regarded Tristan. “Do you collect antiques?”

“Nay. Julia bought my box.”

“Ah, so you’re a seller.”

“Nay, I am a—”

“French fry, anyone?” Julia asked, cutting him off.

Her panicked expression pleaded with him to remain silent. Tristan’s stomach clenched. He did not like that she begged him, even silently. Did she fear her sister would steal his box if she knew the truth? Whatever her reasons, he pressed his lips tightly shut and said nothing more on the subject.

“Jules, you’re acting weird,” Faith said pointedly. “No offense, but I’ve never seen you this flustered. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Eyes wide, Julia stuffed her mouth full of food.

Faith glanced between Tristan and Julia once, twice. “You’re hiding something, Jules. I can tell. You can’t even look at me without trembling.”

Julia swallowed and said, “I’m not in any kind of trouble, if that’s what you’re thinking. I promise.”

“Oh, really.” Disbelief echoed in every syllable Faith
uttered. “Well, something is going on here, and I want to know what.”

“Tristan has been taking care of me, that’s all. I’ve just been…sick.”
Sick in the head,
she thought wryly,
for offering room and board to a pleasure slave.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to worry.”

“I can’t help it. You’re my sister, and I—Holy shit.” Faith clasped her hands over her mouth, practically radiating giddy excitement. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”