Chapter 4
GATLIN
“Yes,” she admits, biting her plump bottom lip and drawing my attention to her mouth. “I just have to find them first. And get the other two back from our enemies.”
My gut tightens at the thought of her in danger. They won’t let go of them easily, and if she thinks she’s doing this by herself, she really doesn’t know us. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time, hmm?”
Some of the anger riding me these last three weeks eases.
When I returned to the villa in Italy and found it empty, I immediately flew to North Carolina and started checking all of her usual places.
Unfortunately, nobody had seen her since she left for London two months ago with us.
No wonder she flew under the radar all those years.
If she really wanted to hide, I doubt I would find her. Panic started to set in.
It wasn’t until the end of the second week I remembered the tracker in her boot, which led me to this place.
Once I arrived at the farmhouse, I could tell she’d been here recently, and although patience isn’t my strong suit, I didn’t have any idea of where she could be, so I forced myself to wait. And snoop.
Unlike the sparse condo by the university, this place is her home. There are souvenirs from her travels, a library full of books, food in the pantry, and closets filled with clothes from different eras. It gave me a lot of unexpected insight into her.
“This is clearly the place you love most. Why don’t you stay here more often?”
Her eyes warm as she looks around the kitchen. “If I lived here all the time, someone could find me…and the vault of cursed items I keep here.”
My brow lifts. Always with the secrets. “If you want to mend things with Jamison and the others, I suggest you start by sharing more of yourself.”
Her voice is almost a whisper when she asks, “Do you think it’s possible to mend things with them? With you?”
I look down at her and frown, but when I search her eyes, I see the same misery in hers that lingers in theirs.
Exhaling heavily, I shrug. “You knew they would feel angry and betrayed, yet you continued to keep them in the dark. Kept yourself at a distance while they unknowingly let you close. They never let anyone close. If you want a chance, you’ll lay everything on the table. ”
“Them, not you?” she asks quietly.
Seeing the feelings she’s been hiding all this time melts the rest of my anger.
I don’t know what I feel right now. She stirs something in me.
Certainly, my protective instincts and an underlying need to take care of her, but there’s more too.
Her bright blue eyes tug at me, urging me to do everything in my power to banish the shadows in them.
“I’m not sure. Right now, you’re in danger, and that takes precedence.
But know this…my family comes first. If you can’t open your heart and share yourself, they won’t either.
As for me, I’ll assign another team to watch over you.
I won’t stay,” I warn her, unsure whether I could actually leave her to fend for herself, but I’m hoping her feelings are genuine, and she’ll want to be more transparent with them.
With me too. Trust isn’t built by keeping your walls up or telling half-truths.
She scans my face and gives a firm nod. “Got it.” She swings her legs off the barstool. “I’m going to take a shower and start researching Hera.”
There’s a tremulous note to her tone that makes me want to pull her into my arms, but instead, I deliberately cross them over my chest.
“I’ll make us some dinner,” I tell her, tilting my head toward the stove. “Steak and baked potatoes okay?” It’s obvious she hasn’t been eating much or taking care of herself.
Phaedra stops at the doorway and glances back. “I always worried someone would find this place and ruin my little haven, but I like having you here. It’s nice.” With those words, she leaves me standing there, her admission filling me with a deep sense of satisfaction.
The minute she’s out of sight, I grab the phone and call Jamison. He picks up on the first ring. “She’s here.”
He loudly exhales, then in a clipped tone, he bombards me with questions, a sure sign of his conflicted feelings. “Finally. What happened? Where has she been?”
“The gods are definitely in play again. She’s on a quest for Hera. Not sure of the details yet.”
He scoffs, “Good luck getting any answers from her.”
I wince at his comment. He hates lying, and her secrets coming to light, while not a lie, made him question whether he could trust her. And Jamison needs to be able to trust more than most.
The roar of a train sounds in the background. “I’m headed to the country to confront my father. He’s been hiding at Lady Catherine’s estate for the last couple of months, which leads me to believe he knows something. Once I finish with him, I’ll make my way to you two.”
I open my mouth to reassure him that she wants to make amends, but I’m still not sure if she can, so I simply tell him to turn on his tracker and be safe. After hanging up, I start prepping the potatoes for our meal.
I hear her moving around in the living room. After popping the potatoes into the oven to bake, I season the steaks and set them aside to marinate. Then I chop vegetables for our salad and whip up the dressing.
“It smells good,” she says from behind me. She moves to a cabinet and pulls out a couple of glasses. “Want some wine?”
Her movements are hesitant and awkward, as if she isn’t sure how to handle someone being here with her. For some reason, that makes me feel good. I like the thought that she hasn’t shared this place with everyone. So will Jamison and the others.
I pour the dressing into a bottle and set it aside. “I didn’t pick up any wine.”
For the first time since she walked in the door, her eyes twinkle. “Good thing I’ve got a cellar.”
She quickly pivots on her heel and walks over to the door leading to the basement.
Curious, I follow. I’ve been in the basement a couple of times and never saw a cellar.
Once we reach the bottom step, she flips on the light and walks over to a built-in bookshelf full of dusty books along the back wall.
With a laugh, she taps on a book, and I peer closer. “The Winemaker’s Delight?” She nods and pulls the book out of its slot. Reaching in, she twists a handle in the back and pulls the entire bookshelf away from the wall. “Voilà!”
The cellar is full of bottles, rack after rack of them. “Sometimes it’s nice to be alive for thousands of years. Pick whatever you like.” She grabs a couple of bottles from a shelf on the right.
Intrigued, I head toward the dustiest bottles.
Brushing off the dirt, I whistle when I see a 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild.
She comes up beside me and peers over my shoulder, bringing the sweet scent of jasmine and vanilla with her.
I can’t help but breathe in deeply. My body stirs as she invades my senses.
“Mathias will love this,” I tell her, my voice husky with need.
She looks up at me but only to ask, “Is that the one you want?” She reaches around me for the bottle, her body brushing against mine, and I quickly grab her hand.
“No,” I say, internally wincing at the abruptness of my tone. I swallow and shake my head. “Let’s save that one for when we vanquish our enemies.” Scanning the bottles of Bourdeaux, I land on a nice, but less prestigious, bottle. “I’ll take this one.”
“Deal,” she replies, her voice lighter than it was earlier. “I like your confidence.”
She sashays out the door, bottles in both hands, and motions to the door with her chin. “Just push the shelf back into place and replace the book. It will automatically lock.”
Once it’s closed, we make our way back upstairs. “Thanks.” When she turns and looks at me with a question in her eyes, I continue. “For showing me your cellar. I know it’s not easy letting someone in your space. It wasn’t for me. When you were looking around my loft.”
My voice is tight, and the words stilted.
An uncomfortable thought occurs. Clearly, I suck at sharing my feelings too.
Even with Jamison and the others, I keep a lot to myself.
Damn it. If I want her to be more open, I’m going to have to do the same which isn’t going to be easy for either of us.
Almost like two porcupines trying to dance.
Her smile widens, and suddenly, I feel like sharing more.
“If you like my cellar, you’re going to love my library. I seem to remember a lot of books in your room.” She sets the bottles on the counter and grabs a towel to wipe the dust off her shirt. “Let’s open your Bourdeaux tonight. If dinner is almost ready, I’ll set the table?”
Bright blue eyes meet mine, and the tiny sparkle in them tempts me to step closer.
Instead, I motion to the stove. “That sounds good. How do you like your steak?”
“Medium rare,” she answers, walking over to the cabinet to grab dishes.
As she reaches up, her shirt slides up, revealing the tiniest bit of tanned skin. My eyes linger on the way her waist curves before sliding over the rest of her. I quickly swivel toward the stove, hiding my response, and concentrate on dinner.
“Five minutes,” I say gruffly, annoyed at myself.
War is coming, and I need a clear head, not a woman full of complications. It would be so easy to get tangled in her. Before I start the steaks, I pour myself a glass of wine and take a large drink, trying to douse the flame that’s flared to life within me.
Seated in front of her five minutes later, I realize it didn’t do much good. Her natural olive skin glows in the soft chandelier light, tempting me to reach out and skim a finger down her face and neck.
She groans, and my hand tightens on the stem of my glass. “This is so good. I’ve been living off granola bars for the last few weeks.”
My desire turns to irritation, and I glare at her. “There is plenty of food in Greece and Italy. Why didn’t you take better care of yourself?”
She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. “Too busy.” She pauses for a long second.
“Damn. I really do avoid the truth.” She takes a deep breath and raises her head to look me in the eye.
“Despite what you may think, I was hurting too. I tried to protect myself, but it didn’t work.
My heart was broken. For the last three weeks, all I thought about was the four of you.
I had no appetite.” She falls silent and returns to her plate.
The thought of her not eating because of me is a punch to the gut. I lean forward and lay my hand on hers. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Eat. We have a new quest to take on. Together.”
She studies me for a second before her lips curve in a smile. “Together.”