Aphrodite's Passion (36 page)

Knowing he was taking a risk, he took her hand. “Sweetheart, I plan on being there the whole time.”

Instead of pulling away, she met his eyes, and he saw longing burning there. Along with a hurt that he knew he’d caused.

“Right there to protect me.”

When he nodded, she pulled her hand away. It slipped away from his like silk across his skin.

“That’s what I figured,” she said.

After a second, she stood up, then planted a little kiss on Elmer’s furry forehead. “I’m heading back to the trailer. Good night Elmer.” A hesitant smile touched her lips as she nodded in his direction. “Night, Hale.”

And then she was gone, leaving Hale alone on the set with Elmer.

You’re blowing it big-time, buddy.

Hale ignored the ferret. His head knew exactly what he was doing. It was his heart that kept trying to make him mess up. And Hale knew better than to trust his heart.

Hale tossed and turned in bed and finally gave up. He needed to walk, needed to do something to get her out of his system.

Cracking his door, he peered out into the hall. No one. Not that he was expecting anyone‘ Tracy was probably sleeping like a baby. After all, he was the one feeling guilty.

He was just heading toward the stairs when he heard her, moving through the hall below him. Instantly he dematerialized.

What he should do was go back into his room, shut the door, and leave her alone. Following her while he was invisible was rude and inconsiderate. Not as rude as what he’d done the
last
time he’d turned invisible around her— thank Heavens she hadn’t figured
that
out—but still definitely not high on the politeness scale.

Unfortunately, what was right was warring with what he wanted. Oh, at the moment how he wanted Tracy! Barring the real thing, however, he’d settle for another look at her. Besides, he was already drowning in guilt. A tiny bit more wouldn’t make a difference.

Knowing it wasn’t the best justification, but lacking anything better, he headed toward the stairs, ready to follow wherever Tracy might lead.

The intense quiet of the house had been grating on Tracy’s nerves, keeping her from sleep. She wished for the sound of a television, a washing machine, a marching band. Anything to keep her from her thoughts.

As it was, she’d tossed and turned for hours thinking about Hale sleeping so close under the same roof.

How could
he
sleep?

She stifled a snort. That was easy. He could sleep because he didn’t care. She was the one who cared and, apparently, caring translated into insomnia. Figuring she had only three options—lie in bed and fantasize about Hale, get up and drive to the ocean, or get up and eat— she’d finally pulled herself up off the bed and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. At three o’clock in the morning, a drive to the ocean would be foolhardy—no matter how much she craved the soothing sound of the surf and the delicious feel of the waves breaking across her toes. Since the beach was out of the question, she settled on the next best thing: milk, cookies, and the warm familiarity of the kitchen.

More than anything, she didn’t want to be alone in bed with her fantasies of Hale. Just thinking about him conjured his scent, and she breathed deep, unsure if she was imagining him, or if in only a few short hours his musky cologne had already permeated her halls. She hoped for the latter. There was something comforting about sensing he was there with each breath she took. Even if Hale wasn’t permanent, she wanted his memory to be.

A renegade tear trailed down her cheek, and she wiped it away.

Mel had said he loved her, but how could that be true? He’d made it clear his attention was just because of the belt.
The belt
. It wasn’t her. And how could she argue with her past failures?

In her mind, she went over all the times she’d been wearing the belt. When they’d gone out for coffee. When ...

She frowned. When they’d made love, she hadn’t been wearing the belt. She’d taken it off and draped it over the chair. That first time, too. Mel was right. He
had
been flirting. And that was before she’d even pulled it out of her grandmother’s box again and decided to wear it.

And taking her to the ocean and buying her the car kit— those weren’t lust things. Or even something he’d had to do to keep her safe. No; he’d been sweet. Caring. Even romantic.

Frowning, she moved to the stove, trying to get her mind around what common sense was telling her. As she walked, something brushed against her cheek. She whipped around. Nothing. She shivered, not feeling alone at all, but also not feeling scared.

Just the opposite, actually. In fact, she felt cherished. How?

“Hale?” She peered around the kitchen, looking for some sign that he was there, invisible, and watching her. Nothing. No sounds of breathing. No ghostly glimmers. No telltale reflections in the teakettle. Nothing.

Suddenly, she remembered that night in her room. She’d seen him in the mirror, and she’d assumed he was a fantasy. But no dream lover had ever been that sweet, that perfect.

No, he’d wanted her even then, and he’d been overwhelmed enough to come to her and play the role she’d already had going in her head.

The logical part of her brain told her she should be furious. He’d been spying, and he’d taken advantage. But the rest of her—the part that loved him incontestably and was hopeful he loved her—only felt flattered. He’d made her feel special without her even knowing he was there. How many people would do that? And obviously he couldn’t have found his own release. It had all been about her.

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be here now, and no amount of hoping and wishing would make him appear. Which made sense, really. After all, it was three in the morning. He was surely sound asleep in his room. She was the neurotic nutcase who couldn’t sleep.

No, Hale wasn’t in the room, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t here with her. She’d awakened for a reason. Her subconscious had a message for her, and it was time she listened to what it was saying. Heck, to what Mel had been saying.
Hale did love her
. She just had to believe it.

She let the thought in, and all of a sudden she was sure of it. Just like she knew her own name. Just like she knew that she loved him. Truly. Perfectly. Magically. She knew it simply from the way he looked at her, the way he touched her. No enchantment could do that. Especially when, if what he told her about the belt was true, a good chunk of the time he hadn’t even been enchanted around her.

No, the belt wasn’t anything except an excuse.

Which raised an interesting question. Why had he lied to her?

Because you’re you, and Hale’s Hale
. He probably just couldn’t see himself with her. Heck, he was probably astounded with himself for falling for a girl like her. And he’d latched onto the belt as the easiest escape route.

Which meant that even though he wanted her, he didn’t
want
her.

Well, wasn’t that the story of her life?

Losing her appetite, Tracy turned off the fire under her kettle and headed back to bed. Even a man who loved her didn’t want her. What kind of odds did that leave for her love life once Hale was out of it?

And for that matter, did she really care? She wanted Hale, no one else. That’s when she decided she didn’t intend to give up without a fight.

She didn’t have a plan, but as she slipped back into her room and crawled back under her covers, she came up with the next best thing: Zoë. In the morning, she’d talk to Zoë. If anyone knew how to get Hale to open up, surely his sister would.

As Tracy drifted off to sleep, she opened her eyes just long enough to gaze into her mirror. There, on the chaise lounge, she imagined that she saw Hale watching her. Protecting her. She didn’t know if it was a dream or reality, but at the moment, either was enough.

A smile touched her lips and she snuggled deeper into her pillow, sure that he really did love her. She just had to teach him to act like it.

“You have failed me yet again.” Hieronymous paced in front of his windows, gazing down at the pathetic mortals wandering back and forth on the street below.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Hieronymous whipped around, not liking the hint of uppity ness in his son’s voice. “Do you think this is funny? How often do you think an opportunity like this comes along? That belt would provide me with a chance—a real chance—to gather my minions and overthrow the Council.”

“I know that, sir.” The color had drained from Mordichai’s face. Good. His son should be nervous. “I am sorry.”

Striding toward Mordi, Hieronymous tested a smile. “Sorry isn’t sufficient, son.” He wanted to strangle the boy, but he didn’t. He needed Mordi. If not for this mission, then in the future. Mordi was in with the Council, and that made him a valuable asset. “I need to know that you are still with me.” He pressed his hand against his son’s shoulder. “That we’re still a team.”

“Or course, Sir.”

Mordi didn’t meet his eyes, and so Hieronymous slipped a finger under the boy’s chin and tipped his head up.

“What’s that? I don’t think I quite heard you.”

This time, Mordi met his gaze head-on, his green eyes blazing. “I said, of course I’m still with you, Sir. You’re my father. Where else would I be?”

“Where else indeed?” With the answer he wanted in hand, Hieronymous backed off, his silk cloak fluttering behind him. “I’m glad to hear that,
son
. I was rather concerned when my sources informed me that you had the woman in your grips... and yet I don’t have the belt in my hand.”

“She didn’t have the belt with her. I didn’t have any way of finding out where it was. I made an attempt, but circumstances—”

“I am not interested in circumstances. I am interested in results.” He drummed his fingers on his desk, the steady rhythm calming his nerves.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I hope I am making myself clear.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Good. Then we’re agreed. You will return to Los Angeles. You will get the girl. She will be wearing the belt. You will bring the girl to the new location where Clyde and I will meet you to persuade the girl to relinquish it.” He looked Mordichai in the eye, hoping for some sign of the strength he knew must flow in the boy’s blood. Seeing an inkling of backbone, he nodded, pleased.

“You will do this,” he said, turning back to the window and the parasitic mortals scurrying below, “or the next talk we have will not be nearly this pleasant.”

“He’s been out there all morning.” Tracy stood at the kitchen window, nodding toward the far side of the yard. Fortunately, she had enough property that no one could see in from the street, because what they would see would surely send the tabloid photographers running.

“He’s actually doing yard work?” Zoë asked.

“And at the speed of light. He’s already completely re-landscaped the west side of the house—and I’m talking replanting trees and laying down granite pathways—and now he’s starting over here.”

Lane peered toward the window. “What exactly is he doing?”

“I’m not sure,” Tracy said. “I think he’s installing a koi pond. At any rate, it’s pretty amazing.”

“Not as amazing as you think,” Zoë said, a smile touching her lips.

They headed back to the kitchen table. “What do you mean?”

Zoë shook her head. “Just that he cares about you. And that this is his warped but sincere way of showing it.”

Tracy nodded.
Now or never
. “Actually, that’s kind of why I asked you to come over this morning.”

“I was wondering. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“No scenes with the animals today, so it’s a freebie.” She nodded toward Elmer, who was sacked out in the candy dish on the kitchen table. “I’m supposed to be rehearsing him. Instead, I’m still angsting about your brother.”

“He has that effect on people.”

“Should I leave?” Lane asked.

Tracy shook her head. The more people who could give her insight into Hale’s psyche, the better.

Speaking of people, the doorbell rang, then they heard the door open. Tracy aimed a shrug in Zoë and Lane’s direction. “The more the merrier, right?”

“Hey, girl? You in here?”

“In the kitchen, Mel.”

About two seconds later, Tracy’s boss appeared, hauling Penelope in an animal kennel with one hand, a box of donuts tucked under her other arm. “I have a meeting with some Disney folks this afternoon and Chris called in sick. I can’t leave the expectant mom all alone.”

Tracy nodded at her one empty chair. “No problem. Do you have time to hang out? We’re dishing about my love life.”

Mel sat down, plunking Penelope’s kennel on the floor next to her. Elmer immediately perked up, his little nose twitching. After a second, he crawled to the edge of the table, peered over, and then hopped down onto the kennel. In a few seconds, the two ferrets were chattering away.

“Great. Hale’s ferret’s got a better handle on his personal life than I do.”

“Hon,” Mel said. “Everyone has a better handle on their personal life than you.”

Tracy scowled at her, but didn’t argue. “Okay,” she agreed deciding to just take the plunge. “Here’s the thing.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve decided Hale really loves me.”

“I told you,” Mel said.

“Yeah, well, maybe the belt’s affecting him a little bit, but it can’t be affecting him as much as he thinks, because there’ve been at least two occasions where I wasn’t wearing it that...” She pressed her lips together. “I was thinking about it last night. Unless there’s some leftover enchantment—”

“There’s not.” Zoë interrupted.

Tracy blinked at her. “What?”

“There’s no leftover enchantment. There’s not even any enchantment in the first place.”

“But... ? Of course there is. Henchmen, remember? Magic belt. Aphrodite. That’s why you guys are here.”

Zoë and Lane exchanged glances, then Lane nodded.

“Worn by a mortal, the belt has no power over a Protector,” Zoë said.

“Oh.” The words sunk in. “Oh!” But if the belt didn’t affect Hale, then ... She scowled. “Does Hale know that?”