When Will I See You Again (17 page)

“Jon, you know I did not do this,” Raoul insisted. “I may not be a saint, God knows, but I’m no killer.”

“I know you’re not, and that’s the only reason I’m allowing this.” The chief wagged an admonitory finger at his godson. “But until we can prove to the world you didn’t have anything to do with this, you have to keep your nose clean, do you hear me? You have to be better than good, you have to be goddamn angelic. Even if it kills you. I don’t want to hear about any shit involving you and trouble, you got it? And don’t forget—he drives.” He jerked his thumb toward Alexx.

“I haven’t forgotten. I’m not senile.” Raoul rolled his eyes, eliciting a giggle from Alexx. When Raoul turned his head and winked at him, Alexx thought his heart would stop, and he only half heard the rest of what the chief was saying, losing himself in Raoul’s beautiful eyes.

He was drawn back to the present by Jon clearing his throat. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor.

“As I was saying, if I were you I’d avoid Charisma as much as possible.”

“I have a business to run.”

“I know, I know, but trouble seems to go hand in hand with drinking, if you know what I mean. So if you do have to go there, maybe you can keep the drinking to a minimum? Or maybe even abstain altogether? Is that not a reasonable request?”
Raoul scowled. “Reasonable, maybe, for someone who doesn’t own a nightclub. Fine, fine,” he hastily amended. “I’ll refrain from getting drunk, but I’m sure as hell not taking the pledge. Is that enough for you?”

“That’s enough for me,” his godfather smirked.

Alexx thought that it was more than fine with him too, considering the precarious ground he was on whenever he took a drink inside of Charisma. After next Halloween, he’d be legal, but until then, if he were caught drinking, he was still a minor, and he didn’t want to bring that kind of trouble down on Raoul on top of everything else he faced.

“May we go now?” Raoul asked, although he was already in motion and halfway to the door before the words left his lips. The question was obviously a mere formality, meant to appease the sensibilities of the chief.

“You may.” He nodded. “Oh, and have fun at dinner tonight.”

Raoul scowled. “You know about that?”

“It’s my job to know that kind of thing, kiddo. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

Raoul made no reply, pulling Alexx along with him, and in record time they found themselves in the parking lot, getting into Raoul’s car. It had taken Alexx a moment to remember he held the key, but he quickly unlocked it and took his place behind the wheel as Raoul slid his beautiful body into the passenger seat.

“Um, okay, where are we going?”

“Well, if you intend to medicate me properly, I think I need to get my pills and take them, so we need to go to Charisma.”

Alexx started to protest, but Raoul never slowed down, steamrolling over his sputtering. “But first, I suppose we should straighten out the matter of sleeping arrangements.”
Sleeping arrangements? That was something Alexx hadn’t given any thought to, although he probably should have. How was he going to watch out for Raoul 24/7 if the two of them slept in separate domiciles? That opened up a train of thought he realized he’d have to quickly derail, before it got him into trouble.

“So, maybe I should pick up some pajamas and a change of clothes and we can head to your place?”

Alexx swallowed hard. He could just imagine Mrs. Somerset’s reaction if he showed up at the house with Raoul in tow and tried to take him up to his room, suitcase in hand. She would object on so many levels, not least of which was Raoul’s well-known other nature—she couldn’t even abide dogs, he shuddered to think what she thought about werewolves. And then, of course, was the added aspect of having a guest in his room, which was against the rules— male or female, she disallowed them all. He could just hear her now.
I run a respectable boarding house, I do, and I don’t allow
such goings on under my roof.

Not that anyone had mentioned that there would
be
such goings on, that was Alexx’s imagination running footloose and fancy free and trying to get him in trouble, as usual.

Raoul began to laugh, and Alexx was almost afraid to meet his eyes. Almost being the operative word.

“I’m kidding, of course. You’ll stay with me. And I don’t wear pajamas.”

Alexx quickly bit his lip, determined to show no reaction at the sudden visual that filled his mind’s eye. But damn.

“We’ll get clothes from your place to take over to mine. Or we can just go shopping and buy you others.”

Was he kidding? Indignation gave Alexx’s voice more strength than he felt he possessed. “Um, no. There’s no need to buy
anything. I have clothes.” Okay, maybe nothing fancy, or tailored, or on a par with what Raoul wore, but better to go with his own wardrobe, meager though it might be, than be treated like…Like what? He didn’t even want to think the word, so he left the thought unfinished. Although charity case also came to mind.

He didn’t wait for Raoul to agree or disagree or even voice an opinion. He turned the key in the ignition, put the car into gear, and reversed out of the parking space so quickly he burned rubber, the tires squealing on the asphalt. As he paused to put her into drive, boiling inside, Raoul laid one hand upon his.

“Alexx…”

Alexx reluctantly turned his head. He tried to steady his breathing and remain calm, but this wasn’t helping by any means.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I was insensitive.”

Alexx nervously gazed into Raoul’s eyes, gauging his sincerity.

He seemed to be telling the truth. Alexx wanted to believe him, he truly did. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak at the moment.

“I’ve been throwing my father’s money around for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I need to be reminded that it isn’t everything.”

“Damn straight it isn’t,” Alexx muttered, knowing that of course his words would be heard.

Raoul lifted Alexx’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly, then replaced it on the steering wheel. “Let’s go get your clothes,” he said. “While we get my pills, maybe we can brainstorm at the club, yes? After all, it’s the scene of the crime, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” Slowly, Alexx’s breathing returned to normal, enough that he could concentrate on the tingling sensation that Raoul invariably inspired. “Okay, let’s go.” He pulled out of the parking lot, onto the street, and headed toward the boarding house.

Raoul could sense Alexx’s nervousness as soon as they reached the boarding house. The yellow late-Victorian house gave off an aura of bedraggled gentility. Situated in a predominantly lower middle-class area, the multi-colored façades represented a proud but shabby chic addition to this historic section of Crescent Bay.

The house where Alexx hung his hat had definitely seen better days, showing a bit more wear and tear than some of its fellows, although there were no really poor sections of Crescent Bay. On the whole, the people were doing well for themselves, and the Marchands had a lot to do with that, having had a hand in the town’s economic development for a number of years.

Alexx pulled the car up to the curb and killed the engine. He seemed to be getting the hang of handling the vehicle, and no
longer required assistance for such simple operations as starting and stopping. He looked at Raoul expectantly as he pulled the key from the ignition and palmed it.

“Why don’t you get your things while I wait here,” Raoul suggested, but one look into Alexx’s guileless eyes told him that idea was being met with less than full approbation. A lot less.

In all fairness, though, he couldn’t blame him for being apprehensive. Alexx had given his word of honor, reinforced by his signature, that he’d not let Raoul out of his sight. He supposed that, under the circumstances, he would be leery of leaving himself unguarded, too.

“Very well,” he acquiesced with surprisingly good humor, his efforts rewarded with a warm smile. He unfolded his long frame, slid out of the car, and followed Alexx inside the residence.

The entry hall was devoid of any sign of life.

“Where’s your room?”

“Upstairs.” Alexx pointed toward the narrow staircase that lay before them. As they started up, Raoul noticed that Alexx kept glancing back over his shoulder, but before he could ask him why, a voice spoke unexpectedly from ahead of them.

“I’m surprised to see you here at this time of day, Mr.

Jameson.”

A short woman garbed entirely in black, from her full-length dress to her old-fashioned shoes, stood at the top of the stairs.

Caught by surprise Alexx stumbled, but a well-placed hand offered by Raoul kept him from falling backward. The woman reminded him of a wizened version of Queen Victoria in her perpetual widow’s weeds. Her voice managed to sound both inquisitive and accusatory, her eyes fixed on Alexx.

“I-I’m working on a story,” he stuttered. “Um, excuse me.” The
pitch of his voice rose higher with each word, finishing in a squeak—most likely because Raoul’s hand was pressed against his backside, providing much needed support, rather than because the landlady was descending the stairs. Alexx flattened himself against the wall to give her more room to pass, trapping that hand in the process—Raoul was far from complaining. Alexx’s proximity was bringing latent desires to the forefront, emotions he’d thought to be long dead and buried.

“Oh? Really? For the
Chronicle
?” She regarded him with a combination of blatant disbelief and curiosity that momentarily left him speechless. Turning her head from her prey, her gaze fell over Raoul, raking him from top to bottom, with a little more interest than he would’ve expected to see in a woman of her age. However, never let it be said that Raoul Marchand met a situation that he could not handle.

“Forgive the intrusion, ma’am.”

“And who might you be?” She arched gray eyebrows at him.

“Raoul Marchand at your service.” He managed a half-bow in her direction—no easy feat, caught as he was in mid-stride between two steps, one hand firmly gripping Alexx’s nether cheek.

“Alexx is indeed on a writing assignment for the
Chronicle
, one with which I am assisting him. We promise not to be any trouble, and we’ll be out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

She rapidly fluttered her eyelashes at him in a manner she no doubt considered to be seductive. “Maybe you’d care to take some tea with me in my parlor?” Raoul wasn’t quite sure if the invitation was for both of them or for him alone. Either way, the answer was unquestionably no. He felt Alexx’s protest even before he opened his mouth to utter it. Thinking quickly, Raoul squeezed the firm bit of ass that he still held within his grasp—that effectively shut him
up.

“Alas, madame, would that we could,” he told her smoothly, his free hand crossing his heart in a protestation of his sincerity.

“But there is much work to be done and very little time in which to do it. Another time, perhaps?”

As if she hadn’t heard his polite refusal, she smiled and nodded. “I’ll go brew it now. Perhaps some scones? In the parlor, yes, in the parlor.” Before he could voice his disagreement, she’d completed her descent. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and gave him a small finger wave before heading down the hall and out of sight, muttering something about cream and lemon.

Raoul waited until she disappeared from view before he stretched up and whispered in Alexx’s ear. “Quickly, before she follows and offers to help us in some inappropriate way.” He added a soft kiss for good measure. He found himself unable to keep from touching Alexx on a regular basis—not that he was actually making much of an effort to keep his hands to himself, either. And Alexx certainly wasn’t complaining.

They hastened up the stairs to Alexx’s room. It was located at the end of the hall, on the right. He closed and locked the door behind them. Pulling out a worn cloth suitcase from beneath his bed—one that might have been green at one time, but had faded to a more inconclusive gray—he laid it open and began to empty the meager contents of his drawers into it, stacking them neatly inside.

Raoul watched his actions attentively. He managed to keep his usually snide comments to himself, not wishing to draw down Alexx’s ire on himself again. Who knew this quiet guy possessed such a touchy temper? Or that it was so easily set off? As long as they were going to be spending time together, he’d have to figure out how to take him shopping for new clothes and present them to
him in such a way that his pride wouldn’t be damaged. How difficult could that be?

That remained to be seen.

Alexx glanced up from the suitcase, their eyes met, and for a long heart-stopping moment Raoul forgot how to breathe.

Swallowing, he forced himself to look away. Conscious that he might have been staring just a bit, he crossed to the window and glanced out into the backyard.

It wasn’t much of a view. The grass, what there was of it, was unkempt. If not for the fact that most of it was thick with weeds and low to the ground, it would probably be in danger of violating some health code or other. There was no indication that this barren space was used for any purpose other than hanging laundry—no recreational furniture of any sort, no barbecue pit, no signs of any type of sporting equipment. He wondered if the residents were even allowed access to the space. A clothes line ran between two trees, one of those a large oak that towered just outside Alexx’s window. Raoul couldn’t imagine the elderly landlady hanging clothes herself. Perhaps she had assistance.