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"That wasn't me offering anything except compassion, Sir Julien, Knight defender of humans." I smile up at him and I mean it. Heisa knight, despite the rough demeanor. I know he's honorable. I dart out of the bathroom, exhaling with relief and some regret as I escape his arms. I turn to face him when he enters the room. "It was just one person to another."

"Whatever you say, Eve," he says and chuckles. "Whatever you say. But I like it when you call me Sir. Maybe a bit too much."

I glance at my watch. It reads 9:20 – too early to go to bed, but I'm completely wiped after everything that's happened since my walk home from work. My knees actually shake just a bit, my eyes feel swollen and itchy. I need to wash my face, brush my teeth and go to bed.

"I'm really tired. Could we discuss this tomorrow? I have to go to the lab tomorrow morning. I need to sleep."

He nods and then picks up the channel changer.

"Go ahead. I'll keep the sound down."

"You're not staying."

"Yes I am. Don't worry. I'll sleep in this bed. You can take the other one."

"No, you have your own room."

"Uh, uh." He looks at me and shakes his head, then flicks on the television and searches channels. "Not a chance. You think I'm going to leave you alone after what I've told you? I don't think so. For one, you could run away and tell someone and then I'd be exposed, all my plans for nothing. For another, I don't know if you realize this but I do have enemies. They've probably seen me sniffing around you like a hungry dog. I expect that I've been followed. That's why Vasily's sitting down in the lobby."

"That's crazy."

"Eve, you're vulnerable. They could take you and try to use you to get to me. Like Luke did." He kicks off his shoes and stretches out on the other bed, one hand behind his head, the other wielding the channel changer as he surfs the news. "I'm not honorable enough to risk my life to save your life, so I'd rather not be put in that position. I need you alive."

I stand with my hands on my hips, fighting with myself over my response. On the one hand, he's right. I could run and tell. I might very well be in danger. On the other, he might also just be using this as a clever ruse.

"How do I know you won't try to use this opportunity to give me more encouragement?”

He rolls his eyes. "Eve, if I wanted to, I could tie you up in about oh, six seconds, and have my way with you and there'd be nothing –nothing– you could do about it except enjoy it." He looks at me, the intensity of his gaze imparting the truth of it. "I've told you more than enough. Now, I don't get off on rape so rest your little mind. Get in bed. Go to sleep."

I sigh. He'll do what he wants and there's nothing I can really do about it, short of getting myself killed. I take my overnight bag into the bathroom and try to keep the door closed with the ice bucket and my bag. After my usual routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth and hair, I put on my nightgown – a simple white cotton nightgown with delicate lace on the neckline and straps – more pretty than sexy. The one I wore when Michel came into my apartment that first time. I hold my bag in front of me as I return to the main room.

"Nice." He glances over briefly when I enter. I throw back the covers to the bed next to the bathroom and jump underneath so he can't see me for more than a second. "I had you pegged as more the granny gown type, Eve, but I'm not disappointed to be wrong."

"Goodnight,SirJulien." I say, emphasizing the 'sir' part to remind him he's supposed to be honorable. I turn off the lamp on my bedside table, pressing my reluctant smile into my pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Eve." He chuckles. "I know mine will be rather tortured."

I wake up, my eyes adjusting to the low light in the hotel room. Julien's body is spooned against mine, one arm thrown over me. He snores softly behind me. I panic just a bit, then try to keep my breathing slow and steady, hoping to appear as if I'm still asleep just in case he's also pretending. I don't want to deal with this now – this littlepas de deuxas he called it – whatever it is. I turn over and he turns over with me, his arm withdrawn. His breathing changes its pattern. He's awake.

I wait, wondering what he'll do, torn between wanting him to roll back over and lie on top of me and him doing nothing.

He does nothing, just lies there. Maybe he's asleep after all. I keep still, breathing in slowly, out slowly. I try to focus on something other than the body next to mine – thinking of the tests I'll be setting up tomorrow, the PCA analysis, the biochemical screens. I think of hundreds of test tubes, one after another, hundreds of pipettes filling with liquids, Bunsen burners, gas chromatography . . .

When I next awaken, the bed's empty beside me. I have to pee and tiptoe over to the bathroom. Before I open it, I see through the crack that he's inside. My immediate response is to pull away, but the image I see makes me stay for a second longer than is polite.

He stands over the toilet, pants and boxers around his ankles, leaning against the wall with one arm supporting his weight, his hand spread out on the wall while the other hand strokes himself. Jammed into his mouth is a rolled up facecloth.

I tiptoe back to my bed and silently slip beneath the covers. I lie there, my heart pounding.

The thrill of it clashes with the sense of warning in my heart. The two of us are like trains approaching each other on the same track. Right now, I'm pretty much stationary, but he's hurtling towards me, picking up speed. I knew if I move towards him with any speed, the inevitable crash could destroy us both.

Chapter 5

“Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.”

Zelda Fitzgerald

The next morning when I wake up, Julien's sitting on the end of his bed watching television. He's dressed in his suit, a cup of coffee in one hand, the channel changer in the other. The sound's on mute; he's reading news headlines. For a moment, the unreality of the scene strikes and I have to remind myself that the sense of tranquil domesticity is a mirage. He's probably thinking of his next move, which enemy he'll attack, what tactics he'll use in this war he's fighting.


Tags: S.E. Lund Paranormal