Chapter 9
Once the police had checked out the apartment, they got back with Gregory, and he put it on speakerphone so Sascha could listen in.
“Prescott Worthington and his uncle-in-law are here, removing some things from the apartment to secure at his house. Mr. Worthington said that as far as he could tell, nothing was taken.”
Everyone knew Prescott, since he was another billionaire and he’d had all the trouble with death threats too.
“Okay, good.”
“They said Miss Lassiter is moving out of the apartment soon.”
“She is. But she’s staying with me for now. Then she’ll stay with Prescott and Katrina Worthington until she’s living in her new house on their property.”
“Okay. Well, a back window was open, so we figure he got in that way. He didn’t leave any prints, unfortunately, and the apartment doesn’t have any security videos of that area,” Sgt. Stronger said.
“All right, thanks.”
Then they ended the call, and Gregory set his phone on his bedside table to charge it.
Sascha stared at the bed, willing her in. Suddenly, her body grew weary. Snuggling against Gregory’s hard, warm physique appealed way too much. But she was sure he would want more, and certainly she did. But she couldn’t give it to him.
“Really, Gregory, I should sleep somewhere else. It’s not safe for me to be in here with you.” She instantly realized saying “no” would be a lot harder than saying “yes.”
“The sheets are a lot softer in here,” he said.
“And the company is a lot harder.”
He smiled at her. She couldn’t help herself. He brought the devil out in her.
“I don’t know what to think of you, Sascha.” He pointed to her bags.
Did Gregory tell the man to leave her bags there, or did he just assume that if she was staying with Gregory, she would be sleeping with him?
She opened a bag. No nightclothes. They were in the other bag, naturally. She opened the other bag and pulled out a pair of shorty pajamas—in a kaleidoscope of bright colors. She went into the bathroom and slipped out of her clothes and pulled on the pajamas.
He pulled off his clothes and slipped on a pair of boxer shorts.
Then she returned to the room.
“I promise I’ll behave myself.” He lifted her chin.
Their eyes met, then his gaze rested on her lips. Yeah, she wanted his kiss too.
His mouth moved into place, possessively conquering hers. She closed her eyes, wanting to enjoy the passion, her hands touching his waist tentatively. A shiver of worry trickled down her spine, and he paused.
“What’s wrong, Sascha?”
She could sense he was concerned that he had moved too fast with her. But she wanted him to make love to her in the worst way, and yet she couldn’t allow it.
The pent-up emotions from losing her powers, then finally regaining them after so long, bubbled to the surface. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.
Gregory was totally lost in his feelings for Sascha. He wanted to make love to her the moment he first set eyes on her, and he knew she wanted the same. But the messages she kept giving him contradicted one another.
It had something to do with Damon. But what? Should he let her sleep in a guest room as she’d said? No, he had to find out all he could about the woman who tantalized his very soul. If she slept in the room next to his, he would never get any sleep.
Her glassy eyes shimmered with tears on the brink of overflowing. The notion tore at his heart. If she broke down, he would be at a total loss as to what to do. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a warm embrace. She sniffled.
The dam would break.
He was afraid to ask what was wrong. He was certain anything he did or said, or didn’t do or didn’t say, would bring on the flood.
She reached up and ran her hand over his chest in a tender caress to his surprise. The woman utterly mystified him.
He ran his fingers through her silky, curly strands of red hair. Trying to keep his mind on anything other than the tightening of his shorts. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. That didn’t help either.
Everywhere she touched sent a twinge of energy into his boxers. For a second, she considered his chest as she traced the contours of his muscles, then leaned over and kissed it. He closed his eyes. He promised he would behave himself, but she wasn’t helping him to keep his promise.
He wanted Sascha to show him what she wanted. He wouldn’t push her one bit. Certain her love life was in a total shambles, he’d hoped maybe he could show her the kind of tenderness she deserved. Whatever Damon had done to her, he was certain he could show her how sensitive a man he could be.
Then he would have words with Damon… and knock the crap out of him if he found he’d been emotionally or physically abusive toward her. Yet he had never seen him like that with anyone before, so it didn’t make any sense.
“It wasn’t Damon’s fault,” she said, her words spoken so softly Gregory wasn’t certain she’d said them.
He waited, listening to see if she would say anything more. When she pulled him onto the bed, a spark of interest warmed his whole body. She was still a minx.
He slipped in beside her on the soft mattress, pulled the covers over them, and switched off his lamplight.
She rested her head on his chest and sighed deeply. “Just hold me like we’re one, please.”
Her words were spoken with a sad aura, and he worried the tears had returned. What had Damon done to her to cause her to be so afraid of a sexual encounter? That’s what he assumed was the matter anyway. Unless something else had happened. Something worse. Had she been molested?
“No,” she said.
Frowning, he studied her. She couldn’t have heard what he was thinking.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight while he kissed the top of her head. The gentle scent of strawberries tickled his nose.
Having her in his arms like this was even better than if he’d had a chance to dance with her, though the idea of her working her legs in between his…
“Sleep; you’re keeping me awake.”
He didn’t understand. He hadn’t spoken a word to her. Did it bother her that he held her too tightly?
She shook her head lightly on his chest. “No, it feels good to be held close like this again. I haven’t allowed it for so long.”
Her words were said so dreamily that he wondered if she were half asleep. But he was afraid to broach the subject. He wanted to know about Damon.
“Later. Quit worrying,” she whispered. Her hand touched his waist, sending a thrill through his system. “Later.”
And then it occurred to him that it truly was as though she had read his thoughts. “Do you know what I’m thinking, Sascha?”
“Shhhh.”
He had to know if she could do such a thing. He envisioned her naked skin as she showered in the bathroom, the water dribbling down her porcelain curves. Her long red curls straightened, dripping over her breasts, and he wanted to know more than anything…what color her nipples were.
She poked his stomach with her finger. “Quit it.”
He tried to sit up in bed, but she pinned him down.
“Sleep, Gregory. I’m tired.”
Relaxing his posture, he furrowed his brow at her. “You can read my thoughts?”
She burrowed her head into his chest deeper without saying a word. He ran his hand over her hair. He had to think of something else that would get a response from her…before she fell asleep. Something that would convince him she could read his mind.
I love you, Sascha.
“Yeah, right, and tomorrow you would say it to some other woman.”
Jeez, she could read his mind. He wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. He knew there was something different about the gypsy cousins…something mysterious, something binding. “And your cousins? Can they also read minds?”
Sascha didn’t respond.
He sighed deeply. He would dig deeper. Much deeper. He had to know all there was about the gypsy family. He knew she was special. But this, well, this certainly turned out to be some new kind of development he’d never foreseen.
The next morning, a rapping on his bedroom door woke Gregory, and as he attempted to extricate himself from his redheaded goddess, he realized her naked skin rested against his.
Instantly, his body warmed with the concept, but then suddenly chilled with concern.
Jeez, what had happened? To his relief, he still had his boxers on.
He knew he hadn’t made love to her. He would have remembered every moment. She must have gotten hot.
He breathed deeply. She was something hot.
He slipped out from under her, kissed her cheek, then climbed out of bed. He opened his door a sliver. “Good morning, Maria. What’s up?”
“The police are here, sir. The young woman’s apartment was ransacked after they went to check it out the first time last night.”
He ran his hands through his disheveled hair. “Last night? Why didn’t they contact me?”
“Not last night. They didn’t find anything amiss then, but they drove by there early this morning, just to recheck the place.”
“All right. Tell them I’ll be down in a minute.”
He closed his door tightly as his blood pulsed in anger. The maniac must have been waiting for her to return home, and when she didn’t, he showed what he thought of her thwarting him.
There was no way Sascha could return to her apartment now. She would stay with him until they resolved the situation. And Rose would return to their family’s home, pronto. He didn’t want her in harm’s way either.
As soon as he’d showered and dressed, he walked over to the bed and kissed Sascha’s cheek. She sighed deeply, her red curls now resting on his pillow, her bare arm lying against the comforter. She was definitely a keeper.
He hurried out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him so as not to wake her. Then he headed down the hall to Rose’s room. He knocked, but there wasn’t any answer.
When he arrived downstairs, he found the police officers eating breakfast. They instantly stood. “Mr. Landry.”
He waved at them to finish their breakfast.
“Maria insisted we have some eggs and toast.”
“I’m glad.”
Maria served Gregory a plate covered with a ham-and-cheese omelet and an assortment of fruit, from watermelon to cantaloupe.
“Have you seen Rose?” he asked her.
“She’s over at your parents’ place. She ate and then said she needed to speak with them. Stephanie came by.”
“And she’s not here still?” That wasn’t like her. Gregory knew she wanted to know if Sascha had stayed with him in his bed. He didn’t want her to cause problems between him and Sascha. However, the maniac on the loose posed an even greater concern.
“I told her that you both were in bed asleep.” Maria smiled and poured him another cup of coffee.
Maria would never normally have done that. But he was amused that she was ready to annoy Stephanie for staying last night for supper when she hadn’t been invited. Damon either.
Gregory turned his attention to the police and asked about the break-in. “How did he get in this time?”
“He jimmied the front door lock and then trashed the whole place. He cut all her furniture, smashed her dishes, lamps, anything he could destroy.”
“Great.”
“He even tore up the drawers in the kitchen. It looked like a cyclone had hit her place inside.”
He hated to tell Sascha what had happened.
“I need to make a call.” He grabbed his phone and headed into the den.
He hated calling his parents. He knew Rose would tell them about Sascha.
He would be put on the spot about the gypsy fortune teller.
He hadn’t dated in over a year, and there was sure to be some conjecture on their part about Sascha.
Before he could even speak, his mother said, “Gregory.”
The wonders of caller ID.
“Rose is over here, and she has been telling us some pretty—”
“She needs to return home to stay with you for now.”
“Son, she said—”
“Mother, the police are over here now. There has been—”
“Oh, my lord. Has he made another attempt on your life? Should I send your father over?”
“No, Mother. What I’m trying to say is he made an attempt on Sascha’s life, and now he has broken into her place twice and torn it up something awful this morning.”
There was silence. He knew the questions percolated in his mother’s mind.
“I received an email from the creep. He believes Sascha is my girlfriend. I had her stay with me last night, or she could have been harmed. I want Rose to stay with you before she gets hurt.”
“Oh, I see. That’s fine with us. Rose doesn’t know, though, does she?”
“Not about me wanting her to stay at your place for now.”
“What about Sascha?”
“What about her?”
“Well, is she your girlfriend?”
“Yeah. She is.”
“Then you must bring her here to meet your family. Unless you’re ashamed of us.”
He smiled. He wasn’t ashamed of them, and she knew he never was.
He was proud of them. He just worried they would make Sascha feel uncomfortable.
But then he thought of how Mrs. Worthington had hugged her at the Worthingtons’ party.
Everyone seemed to like Sascha, except for Stephanie.
Maybe everything would be all right. Then again, if he took her over there, wouldn’t that confirm what the maniac already thought about his relationship with Sascha?
His mother broke into his thoughts. “This afternoon. We’ll have a nice lunch.”
Before he could object, the phone clicked dead in his ear. Yeah. Lunch.
He walked back into the kitchen and spoke to Maria. “Rose will be staying with our parents for a while. Don’t worry about making me lunch. I’m on strict orders to have it at my parents’ home.”
Maria raised her brows. “And the young lady?”
“Yes, especially Sascha.”
Maria smiled, and he knew what she thought.
He hadn’t dated in forever, and nobody he’d dated before had ever interested him much.
His mother was dying to have grandchildren.
Rose was twenty-four, so she had some time to really find someone she cared about.
He suspected she had told them about Marvin too.
But Gregory was twenty-nine, and his mother was certain he would never find someone he liked well enough to marry. Would she find Sascha as acceptable as he did?
His family would probably flip when they got a look at Sascha and her colorful clothes. But he thought they suited her just fine. Only he had to convince her to wear shorter skirts.