Michael signed the register, then took her arm again as the porter led them through the lounge and up another set of stairs. She could feel the weight of Ginger's stare long after they'd left the area. Their room was another revelation. Her whole damn apartment wasn't as big as their suite appeared to be. The soaring ceiling and wall of windows were again a feature, but this time the wood on the walls was cedar, and the fireplace looked like it was built out of river rock rather than sandstone. The bed was a platform affair and big enough to fit ten people in. She touched it, her fingers sinking into the silk-covered comforter. The mattress was firm, but not overly so. Just the way she liked it. The bathroom, to the right of the bed, had a spa big enough to hold a party in. The porter placed their bags on the redwood-framed day bed that sat near the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, then collected his tip and left.
She sat down, grinning and patting the bed beside her. “Care to take it for a test run?"
"We are here to work and save lives, not play.” He walked across to the windows and clasped his hands behind his back, staring into the darkness.
She hadn't really expected him to say anything else. No doubt he'd already worked out a roster system to share the sleeping between the bed and the day bed.
"What's first then?"
"For you? Sleep.” His voice was remote. “I have to contact Seline and tell her I arrived safely. I'll also get her to check on Rodeman and his wife, see what she can find." Power surged through the room, tingling across her skin and standing the hairs on end. Perhaps he was already attempting to connect telepathically with his boss.
"Which reminds me,” she said, rising from the bed. “I'm supposed to call Mary."
"Don't use the room phone,” he warned. “Just in case it's bugged. Use your cell phone." She raised an eyebrow. “Why would they bug our phone? We only just got here—why would they even suspect us?"
"I have not lived as long as I have without being cautious, Nikki. Just do as I ask." She frowned at his back and half wished she had something to throw at him. Being cautious was the reason she'd spent the last six months alone—and the reason she'd spend the future alone if she couldn't convince him otherwise. She walked over to her bag and retrieved her cell phone. Mary answered on the second ring.
"Nikki—where are you?” Her voice was edged with tiredness and pain. Fear constricted Nikki's throat, and her question came out a hoarse whisper. “How's Jake?"
"Still hanging in there, but it was touch and go an hour ago...” Mary hesitated, and her sob echoed down the line. “Oh God, I don't know what I'll do if I lose him." How often had she said the same thing? Nikki closed her eyes, but tears squeezed past anyway. She couldn't do this. She couldn't stay here chasing after some errant teenager when two of the three people she loved most in the world were in such trouble.
"I'm coming home—"
"No! You can't. Promise me you won't, Nikki. You know how Jake is with the damn agency—the client is all-important. He wouldn't want you here. You know that." She knew. But if he died while she was stuck here, and she didn't get the chance to say good-bye...
"Promise me you'll stay. Promise me you'll find the teenager for him."
"If you'll promise me you'll call if his condition worsens again. I need to be there if ... if..."
"I will. Take care."
"You too."
She hung up then dropped the phone into her bag. She couldn't lose Jake ... couldn't ... and yet the thought that she might lodged somewhere in her throat and made breathing almost impossible. Tears coursed warmth down her cheeks and splashed onto the carpet near her feet. She wrapped her arms around her body and tried to stop the shaking.
Hands touched her arms, turning her. She buried her face in Michael's chest and gave free rein to the anguish squeezing her heart so tight. He held her gently, his arms a safe harbor in which her tremors slowly eased.
"It'll be all right,” he said softly, his breath caressing warmth past her ear.
"No, it won't. It'll never be all right."
Because she still might be left alone even if he did survive. Mary had often talked about going back to San Francisco, the city where she and Jake had met, and the place where her family still ran a successful hotel business. This time, she might just convince him to make the move. Leaving her alone. Something she'd feared most of her life.
She bit her lip. I'm being selfish. As long as Jake survived, it didn't really matter where he lived. It wasn't as if she couldn't hop on a plane and visit him.
"Being alone is something we all fear, Nikki."
She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Do you?"
His smile made her heart do odd things in her chest. He touched her face, his thumb trailing heat down her cheek as he wiped away her tears. “I fear it as much as anyone else, and for good reason. I have lived three hundred years alone. I know its taste and do not like it."
"Then why continue to push me away?"
"Because I fear seeing you dead more."
Anger surged. She wedged her arms between them and thrust him away. “So you'd rather see me miserable than dead? Great. Just great."
He sighed and thrust a hand through his hair. “We barely even know each other. We may share thoughts and we may share passion, but we have never once shared our dreams or our desires for the future. I do not know your favorite movie or color or food, or even what you like to read. And you know as little about me. How can you trust what you feel when we do not even know if what lies between us will last?" What she felt had been strong enough to survive six months of not seeing him. Six months in which she'd swung between anger and aching loneliness. “But you won't even give us the chance to find any of those things out."