Warrior's Cross (34 page)

Julian turned his head to watch it ring. The caller ID displayed the number as private, but Julian knew instinctively who it was.

“You may as well answer him, sir,” Preston whispered, his voice low as if the phone would overhear him. “If he knows enough to call when we’re drunk, then we’re in bigger trouble than we thought,” he said before making a sarcastic toast in the air with his glass and taking another sip.

Julian gave a snort and reached for the phone. “Arlo,” he answered in a low voice.

“Hullo, Julian,” Arlo greeted cheerfully. “Nice accent.”

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“It gets the job done,” Julian muttered.

“I liked your other one better. I have a proposal,” he said, knowing Julian wasn’t likely to speak again and merely delving right into it.

“You see, I’m on a limited budget for this one. The people who hired me want you dead, but they don’t want you dead badly enough to shell out what it actually costs to kill you. Follow?”

“I follow,” Julian assured him. Arlo was supplementing this job with his own money. This was personal for him, and he would get it done no matter the cost. That was both good and bad.

“All this surveilling and whatnot, it’s beginning to bore me.

Cameron Jacobs has got to be the most plain, unremarkable man I’ve ever come across,” Arlo said in annoyance. “He’d better be good in bed, Jules, that’s all I’ve got to say. You did an impressive job of hiding Blake Nichols, though, I have to admit. Tell me, Julian, why hide your handler but not your lover?”

Julian gritted his teeth, remaining silent.

“Problems in paradise, hmm? I can solve that for you,” Arlo continued in an amused voice.

“You said you had a proposal,” Julian reminded him, slipping into the accent that came most naturally to him, a lilting gaelscoil Irish.

There was no point in hiding it from Arlo or from anyone else anymore. It was almost a relief to speak it. “Or did you plan to kill me by boring me to death?” he asked in annoyance.

Arlo tutted at him. “Always were the wit, weren’t you? All right, then, my proposal is this: Meet me at Blake’s restaurant at your regular time. Just you. Tell Preston to bugger off somewhere. We’ll settle this like gentlemen.”

Julian was silent, wondering why the idea did actually appeal to him a little. Was he confident he could kill Arlo or was he just ready to die?

“Either you show up Tuesday night, Julian, or Cameron Jacobs doesn’t make it home alive,” Arlo promised softly before ending the call.

Warrior’s Cross 241

Julian closed the cell phone slowly and looked up to meet Preston’s eyes. The man raised one eyebrow and tilted his head knowingly. “The only way to save the one you love is to die for him?”

he ventured calmly, his own Irish accent flowing as if he’d never hidden it.

Julian nodded wordlessly, staring at the tabletop.

“It’s very chivalrous, anyway,” Preston commented offhandedly.

“Shall I set up a sniper’s nest somewhere devious?” he asked with a hint of anticipation.

“No,” Julian answered softly. He looked up at Preston seriously and leaned forward. “Make me a promise, Preston,” he requested.

“Of course, sir,” Preston responded without hesitation.

“If I’m killed,” Julian murmured, “you have to take care of Smith and Wesson.”

Preston blinked rapidly, pressing his lips together to try to repress any emotion he might have wanted to display at the thought of taking on the care of Julian’s two cats. Finally, he looked down at the table and frowned. “Could I just throw myself into the coffin with you instead?” he asked hopefully.

Julian smiled and shook his head.

“Damn,” Preston muttered as he got up from the table and walked away.

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CAMERON was gathering goblets when Sylvia practically flew into the service area, catching everyone’s attention. “Cam,” she hissed. “He’s back.”

Cameron’s chin snapped around, and he stared at her. “He?” His heart hammered in his chest.

“The scary guy,” she answered breathlessly, getting Miri’s attention as she walked by them.

Cameron’s hand tightened on the crystal glass in his hand. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Look,” Sylvia whispered as she moved toward the door and its small window.

The past few weeks had marched by uneventfully with no sign of Arlo Lancaster, who had so unnerved him, and also no sign of Julian after he and Preston had run Lancaster off that night. Cameron’s life had calmed and settled into a daily blur… until now.

They could barely see the man from their angle; Lancaster had requested the same quiet table he’d been given the first time, and he sat in the chair that allowed him to watch the door. As they peered at him, Keri led another man to the table to join him. A tall, dark, handsome man they all recognized.

Cameron’s breath caught as he looked upon Julian for the first time in months. He slowly leaned forward, grasping the counter tightly as he looked out through the slats. His chest suddenly ached badly, so badly he could barely swallow.

Julian stood by the side of the table for a long moment, managing to look large and intimidating even in the finely tailored suit. Lancaster Warrior’s Cross 243

leaned back in his chair casually, looking up at Julian almost insolently before he stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and offered his hand with a few words in greeting. Julian looked down at the hand for a moment, and then he grasped it and shook it stiffly. He looked around, seeming almost uneasy, and he unbuttoned his jacket slowly as he sat opposite Lancaster.

They sat silently, staring at each other.

“This is not good,” Sylvia whispered at Cameron’s side. “What do we do?”

Cameron stared through the blinds, feeling his emotions drain away. He’d been too upset, too scared, too lonely, all for too long. It was too much to feel any of it right now, so he buried it deep down.

“We do what we always do,” he answered flatly, voice becoming more firm as he spoke. “This has nothing to do with us.”

“What are you talking about?” Miri asked from Cameron’s other side.

“We don’t know them. We don’t know them from any other customers,” Cameron told them. Ignorance would keep them safe.

Julian had taught him that.

The women nodded slowly, and they all looked back out at the two dangerous men.

They seemed to be complete opposites. Julian sat proper and tense, his face expressionless as he looked at the other man. Lancaster, though, sat slightly sideways with his elbow propped on the back of his chair, reclining casually with his ankle resting on his knee. He was grinning impishly and meeting Julian’s eyes unflinchingly.

Cameron straightened and tugged at his collar before smoothing down the front of his shirt. He picked up the card listing the evening special and walked out of the service area.

How he found the determination, he didn’t know. How he knew what was going down was wrong, he didn’t know. All he could do was follow Julian’s lead as he’d seen it before—do his job and pretend not to know the man who had been his lover.

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When he got to the table, Lancaster had just begun to speak in a low voice. “You’re a hard man to track,” he said in amusement.

“Hiding in your castle. Might as well be Bruce Wayne.”

“Does that make you the Joker?” Julian asked flatly, clearly not amused.

Cameron paused a few feet away, completely taken aback by the sound of Julian’s voice in a melodic Irish accent. It was right, but it wasn’t. He’d never heard Julian use an accent. Maybe it was something he was doing with Lancaster? Something to hide his identity? If so, he was really good at it.

Lancaster laughed softly and nodded.

“Why are we here?” Julian asked with the barest hint of annoyance.

“I heard you like this place,” Lancaster answered innocently. “The food is delicious. Although the service is somewhat lacking.”

Julian was silent, staring at his companion blankly, and Cameron took that as his cue to approach the table. “Good evening, gentlemen,”

he greeted, trying desperately to keep his voice from wavering. “My name is Cameron, and I’ll be your server tonight.” His voice, thankfully, came out purely professional, as was his manner. He rattled off the night’s special without looking at either man and then asked,

“Would you like to start with some wine?” He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, especially with Julian.

Lancaster looked up at Cameron with a large grin. “Wine sounds wonderful,” he drawled happily. “Bring us your most expensive bottle,” he requested as he looked back at Julian almost challengingly.

“We’re celebrating tonight.”

From the corner of his eye, Cameron saw Julian’s jaw clench.

Cameron tipped his head in a brief nod and set the specials card between them. “Right away, sir,” he murmured before he strode away to get the wine and glasses.

Somewhere deep inside he reeled at being so close to Julian again and not being able to do anything about it. But he knew he couldn’t let that little bit of himself out. He just
couldn’t
. If he did, there would be Warrior’s Cross 245

no reining it in again. That fear he’d always felt on Julian’s behalf, the fear that his lover would be hurt or even killed, was back full force. As Cameron re-entered the service area, he realized that he felt it even though he wasn’t with Julian anymore—and that he’d much rather feel it being
with
Julian.

“What are they saying?” Miri demanded in a hushed whisper as she and Sylvia crowded around him.

“You should be working,” Cameron said sharply as he walked to the fine wines cabinet and pulled out the best wine the restaurant offered. He carefully wiped down the bottle and picked up two glasses and set it all on the tray. But he had to pause as his hands shook enough that the classes touched together with a quiet chime.

“Jesus,” Sylvia muttered as she looked at the expensive wine.

“What, are they on a date?” she added distractedly.

“Don’t ask,” Cameron muttered darkly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Miri said to him in a hushed voice. “You can
see
the tension over there. I could cut it with one of Jean-Michel’s knives!”

Cameron picked up the tray, righting the slight bobble and then pausing for a steadying breath. “They’re just customers,” he said, reminding himself as well as them. He left the girls behind and carried the tray to the table, setting it on the nearby stand before presenting the linen-wrapped bottle.

Lancaster looked down at it and nodded his head at Julian. “Let him try it, if you please,” he requested.

Julian continued to stare at him wordlessly. Both of his hands were resting on the table in front of him; Cameron knew he usually kept at least one of them in his lap when he ate. He also knew why, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Lancaster sat with both of his hands above the table as well. They reminded Cameron of Old West poker players, always keeping their hands in sight. Miri was right; the tension was palpable.

Cameron set down the bottle as he pulled out the corkscrew. He opened the bottle efficiently, surprised his hands weren’t shaking 246

Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

anymore, let it air for a moment, and then poured a couple sips’ worth into one of the glasses before offering it to Julian without a word.

Cameron finally let his eyes settle on his ex-lover, and he felt a pang of longing so strong it almost doubled him over.

Julian still stared at Lancaster intently, his entire body coiled and tense. Finally, he dragged his eyes away and took the glass. He looked up to Cameron, and in his dark eyes there was a spark of something Cameron had never seen there.

It might have been… fear.

Julian sipped at the wine and nodded his silent approval. Cameron couldn’t do anything but stand there, the bottle clutched in one hand, after he saw that look in Julian’s eyes. He wondered if it was a reaction to his presence or to Lancaster’s. Cameron made himself look over to the other man and offer the wine bottle.

Lancaster nodded without looking at him, waving his hand through the air as he smirked at Julian. “So, what will it be, Julian?” he asked smoothly. “The special?” he asked sarcastically.

Cameron took up the empty glass silently and filled it just over halfway before setting it down in front of Lancaster carefully.

Lancaster’s words and tone scared him—the man had obviously researched Julian somehow. He seemed to know him well. Cameron swallowed and tried not to flinch.

Lancaster took the glass and held it up, as if ready to make a toast.

He smiled at Julian, his eyes warm and friendly even though Cameron instinctively knew it was a mask.

“What was that toast you taught me, Jules?” Lancaster asked Julian with a smile. “Something very Irish,” he mused as he tried to remember it.

Julian stared at him, obviously having no intention of answering.

Cameron glanced at Julian carefully as he lifted Julian’s glass, filled it as well, set it down along with the bottle, and waited silently, although he edged away from the table. He had taught this man toasts? Picturing Julian with a boisterous crowd of drunks, reciting “very Irish” toasts didn’t seem right to Cameron. Had he truly known his lover even a little bit? He moved a half-step backward.