Winter's Touch (Immortal Touch Series) (24 page)

“
I told you, you probably have pneumonia from being out in the freezing cold for so long! I swear, sometimes I think men are the most senseless creatures ever put on this earth. Out driving in the middle of the worst blizzard in years! Tell me, what would you have done if Julian hadn’t been around to help you get your car out of that snowbank?”

Dane looked up from his game with sudden interest. “Was Eva with him?”

“Who?” His father was confused.

“His girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” Paula’s attention shifted from her husband’s lack of common sense to a more engaging topic. “Have you met her? Does she live around here?”

“I dunno where she lives. She’s staying at his place. I met her when I
delivered some groceries there.”

“So what’s she look like?” Always up for new gossip, his mother waited to hear what he had to say, though she knew it wouldn’t be much. Dane wasn’t one for expressing himself verbally. Then again, most teenage boys weren’t
.

He shrugged. “You know. Nice looking and all that.”

“Hm. Your descriptiveness is overwhelming.” Paula threw the dishtowel she was holding over one shoulder. “Don’t you have something better to do than sit in front of the TV all day? Like, studying maybe?”

Dane sighed. Being homeschooled had its definite disadvantages, one of them being the inability to escape the scrutiny of the teacher. Sometimes it was cool having a dad who was a ski instructor, but living in such an isolated area wasn’t always fun for him. There were days when, shyness notwithstanding, he longed for public school. Teachers who you didn’t see again once you left the classroom, friends waving as they passed you in the hallway
s, the friendly rivalry of football games, even the smelly cafeteria food. And, last but certainly not least, the girls. Not that he was ever able to say more than two words to one of them without stuttering like an idiot. Usually they looked at him like he had the plague or something.

Not
like Mr. Winter’s pretty redhead. She was really nice, not like those girls his own age who liked to play stupid head games. Eva was the real deal. Maybe that was why he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her and what it would be like to have a girlfriend like that. Someone who smiled at him and listened to what he had to say and whose hair smelled like a summer breeze. He could never hope to win the affection of a woman like that, of course, but it didn’t hurt to imagine. To dream.

Over in the recliner, his father was scratching his arm. “I think something bit me.”

~*~*~

“Tell me the truth. I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

Walking into the house from the garage, Julian stomped the snow off his boots and smiled at Eva. “You drive like a maniac. You aren’t as invincible as I am, you know.”

“I like going fast.” Her first experience on a snowmobile had been exhilarating, especially after he’d offered to let her take the throttle. For someone as indestructible as he was, he sure did put up a fuss when she hit breakneck speeds. Maybe he was actually concerned about her breaking her
own
neck.

“You always were fearless.” He helped her out of her jacket, then removed his and hung it on a hook to dry. “I can’t imagine how you managed to survive childhood.”

“I think my feet are frozen,” Eva announced, kicking off her boots and heading for the fireplace. She ignited it with the remote, then stood with hands extended in front of the heavenly warmth. “How is it you never seem to get cold?”

“I like the cold.
It feels nice.” Ambushing her from behind, his arms encircled her waist and he held her close. “What now, daredevil? Would you like to jump out of an airplane? Try hang gliding? Bungee jumping from the Eiffel Tower?”

“I’d settle for dinner in Brightwood. I’m starving.”

“Your wish is my command.”

True to his word, a
n hour later they were seated in the full-to-capacity Phantom Ridge Inn, enjoying delectable langoustine gratin paired with a lime chardonnay. The night was cold and the clear sky peppered with shimmering stars, a reproduction of their previous visit. Eva was intoxicated with the delirious joy felt only by those in the grip of crushing infatuation.

Her adoration was further fueled by the advancing realization that she wasn’t the only one to surrender.
Julian had changed as well. The loftiness had disappeared, replaced with a benevolence that belied his former contempt. The steely darkness of his eyes was now tempered with a soothing indigo blue, and those same eyes that once exuded only cruelty now held within them a soft gentleness. The demon was gone, or at least dormant.

“
Lot of people out tonight,” she commented airily.

“Saturday night,” he pointed out. “Most of these people are from out of town. Isn’t it fortunate I had a reservation?”

She giggled. “You didn’t have a reservation. I saw the way you were looking at the hostess. You made her
think
you had called ahead.”

“I know, I’m incorrigible.
Whatever will you do with me?” He paused to nod at the sommelier who was refilling his wine glass. “Thank you.”

“I have no idea how to answer that.”
Eva poked at the remains of her food with a fork, thinking to herself that her mother would love this dish. Abby adored lobster.

“A more perplexing quandary might be the question of what to do with
you
.” Folding his arms on the table, he leaned forward to focus his full attention on her. “Maybe I’ll take you to the Maldives. Or Santorini. How would you like to visit Greece?”

“You’re kidding
.”

“Not at all.
Name the place. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Anywhere but
Fremont, right?” She tried to sound flippant but didn’t quite succeed.

“That still isn’t up for debate.” He
glanced around uncomfortably, then downed half his wine in one draught.

My God
, she thought,
I’m wearing him down. He actually looks guilty!

“I’d love to see
New Zealand someday,” she said softly.

“Very well.”
The irresistible smile returned. “I understand the sunsets in Napier are exquisite.”

“It’s a date then.”

“I look forward to it.”

“So
...there’s something I’ve been wondering.”

“And what is that?”

“It’s about your music.”

“Yes?”

“I just wondered...have you released any of it to the public?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Well...I mean, what’s the point of composing it then? Why do it?”

“I enjoy it. The music is for my own pleasure. I have no interest in the trite entertainment of others, nor do I care for their fickle opinions of my work. It is for my ears alone.”

“What about mine?”

“Yours?”

“Yes, mine. I’d like to hear more. You’re incredibly talented.”

He seemed pleased. “You liked your requiem, then?”

“I never heard anything like it before. It was beautiful.”

“It should be. My muse is beautiful
, as well.”

Eva’s heart swelled so that she could hardly breathe. She knew how foolish it was to allow his
provocative words to penetrate her armor, but she was too far gone and it was far too late for futile resistance now. If he beckoned, she would come, and it was just as simple as that.

After they returned home, he brought her into the conservatory and played
several recordings for her. His style bordered somewhere between neoclassical and dark ambient, and sounded amazingly professional. She was thoroughly impressed, but not yet satisfied.

“Would you play for me?” she requested, indicating the cello case propped against the wall.

“You’ve heard me play.”

“Yes, but I want to watch you.
A recording isn’t the same as a live performance.”

He relented with a
placid shrug. “As you wish.” Bending to open the case, he asked, “What would you like to hear?”

“It doesn’t matter. Anything.”

“Anything, hm? I could use some accompaniment.” He walked over to the computer and typed something on the keyboard. “There we are. We’ll go with something that might be more familiar to you.”

As he seated himself and arranged the cello between his knees, the
studio monitor speakers dispatched a flowing instrumental that she recognized as
Caribbean Blue
. Picking up his bow, Julian merged in perfect sync, deftly pulling it along the strings with a subtle grace she wouldn’t have believed possible. Near his jaw, the slender and agile fingers of his right hand curved delicately over the strings to dance like Baryshnikov. The smooth fluidity of his movements mesmerized her while the bewitching melody seduced. Dazzled, her eyes could not be pulled away from the poetic motions of his hands.

It
was undeniably the most sensuous scene she’d ever witnessed in her entire life.

When the music ended, he
looked at her expectantly while she blinked and shook her head, attempting to pull herself from the depths of the spellbinding trance. She wanted to speak, but mere words seemed almost sacrilegious in the wake of his offering.

With a muted laugh, he returned the cello and bow to their case. “I never know what to expect of you.”

“Ditto,” she said hoarsely.

“What did you think?”

She cleared her throat. “Words fail me.”

“Was it that bad?” he teased.

“It was incredible.”

“I can teach you if you like.”

“I would...I’d like that.” Though creating music of her own could never compare to watching him perform. She still couldn’t believe his arms could be so effortlessly graceful, like a bird in casual flight. What an amazing contradiction he was - an assassin with the allure of a paladin.

They migrated to the living room,
embracing on the sofa to watch the wisps of snow that had once again begun to fall. The clear sky had been deceitful. Through the picture window, the outdoor floodlights provided enough illumination to spotlight a visible landscape of wintry splendor.

“Living here is like being inside a snow globe,” she noted. “And someone keeps shaking it.”

“We have had more than usual lately.” He brushed her hair aside to kiss her gently on the neck. “I thought you liked the snow.”

The light touch of his lips on her neck sent shivers of nervous anticipation down her spine.
“I do. I wasn’t complaining.”

“That’s a first.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. I’m serious though - I mean, look at that. It really does look like some kind of winter fantasy or something. It’s so perfect.”

“That’s why I live here. Why should I tolerate anything less than perfection?”

“It must be nice to get everything you want.”

“You could have everything you want as well, darling. Just name it, and it will be yours. Anything your pretty little heart desires.”

She grinned mischievously. “In that case, I want emeralds and...let’s see...a sable fur coat. I’ll get back to you with a more detailed list later.”

“Consider it done.”

“There
is
one thing I really do want, Julian.”

“You know better than to ask to leave, butterfly.”

“No...it’s not that. It’s something I want you to do for me.”

“And what is that?”

“If I asked you to make a promise, would you honor it?”

“If it’s within the realm of my capability, of course. Suppose you tell me what it is you have in mind.”

“I want you to promise me you’ll never kill another human.”

He was silent for some time while she patiently awaited his response.
Had she asked for the impossible? Would her influence with him be strong enough to achieve the end of years of nightmares and unexplained deaths? The boy with the vacant eyes and bleeding wrists haunted her conscience. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that she wasn’t responsible, his death was still on her hands, because she was there and did nothing to try and stop it. If only the bloodlust would retire to sleep with the hibernating monster.

“
I don’t know if I can promise you that,” he said hesitantly. But his mind didn’t seem to be made up yet, so she continued to wait while the snowflakes seemed to fall in slow motion.

Finally, he gave her his answer. “I will promise you this, Eva. For as long as you live, I will not take
a life intentionally. That is the most I can offer you.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.
The future suddenly seemed brighter, the world less dark and cold, and her heart soared with the mourning doves.

~
*~*~

Dane quickly looked up from the shelves he was dusting when he heard the sound of the redhead’s voice on Monday afternoon.