“Yes,” she said, nodding and tapping a finger on the computer. “That’s my father on the other side of the screen. Now, I’m supposed to show him I can handle this, I ca handle you. And I’m—well, I’m not sure if I can handle you.”
I saw Maya’s shoulder deflate just as she tipped the flute of champagne up into her mouth. It was something I’d imagine Artemis would do, in fact, I wasn’t too sure he wasn’t seeking inspiration from her. AndIwas the bad influence.”Ok,” Maya finally said. “If you two—you—” she said, gesturing to me and Art. “We need a moment. Take a plate.”
I left the bottle of champagne on the table, only to see her roll her eyes—I wasn’t going to fetch a bucket of ice to go with it. I was drawing my wait staff services at popping the cork. Artemis had a plate of food—mostly stacked pancakes with a surrounding of fruit and syrup, leaking over the side.
“You’re making a mess,” I grumbled. “I’m not going around cleaning up after you, you know that.” I closed the dining room door and stood in front of it as Art sat on the lounge seating, making more of a sticky mess.
“I always thought if you weren’t a cold-blooded killer, you’d be out there cleaning up spills and serving people drinks,” Jinksy said.
“I’ll take this fucking comms piece out,” I grumbled. I gave a singular chance for someone to make a fool out of me. One chance.
“How long have we known each other, Don? I’m just joking around.”
Artemis barely looked up from his plate—too busy trying to lick the syrup clinging to his fingers and stringing trace lines across his trousers. I stared, resisting the urge to go over andbabyhim. The instinct had grown much stronger since we’d bared our souls again to each other. Igniting that flame again—not through anger or hate, but through the connection we shared before.
“I think I put too much syrup on my pancakes,” he said, holding both hands up to me. His face so soft and submissive, as if begging me to cup a hand beneath his cheek, then lick his fingers clean for him.
“Maybe that’s a lesson in too much of a good thing,” I said. “We’ve all got to control our urges.”
“What urges do you have?” he asked, licking his fingers, one at a time, up and down. “Tell me.”
“Yeah, what urges?” Jinksy asked, ruining the skip in my heart as Art was almost ready to beg for me—and be very unprofessional.
I pulled my comms out. “My urge to warm this hand up,” I said, holding the hand up. “And getting that nice, peachy ass of yours a whole lot redder.”
“Doesn’t sound professional.”
“Fucker,” I let out, biting the tip of my tongue. He was goading me, he knew exactly what he was doing, and I fell right for it. “When we’re back at Sanctum, you’re in trouble.”
After nearly deepthroating his fingers down the knuckle, he pulled them out and smacked his lips. “Fun trouble or—”
“It depends on how I’m feeling,” I said.
“Can I still finish my pancakes?”
“In fact, I want you to eat all the food on the plate, all the pancakes, all the fruit, and the syrup licked clean,” I walked toward him, my voice shrinking to a growling whisper. “And then, maybe I’ll have you lick the droplets of syrup from the floor.”
He back straightened. “And what else are you going to make me do?” He smiled. This was a game, one with limits, and if he was smiling, this was a game he wanted to play.
“Eat up first,” I told him. “I want you command you when you’re stuffed full, and you’re gonna be extra bratty because I know all those pancakes will make your little belly hurt. It’s why I’ve been forcing you to eat bland food while training you. I know you that well.”
He nodded, his head bowing in the ultimate act of submission before going into to eat the pancake stack. I walked around the back of the sofa and removed the comms from his ear. I didn’t need Sanctum listening to us talk. I crouched behind the sofa, my arms outstretched to squeeze his shoulders in a nice massage.
“I need that,” he grumbled, leaning into my touch.
“I know you do,” I said. “You were holding the plate lopsided, maybe we shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the sofa. Not comfortable enough on the upper arm.”
It shouldn’t have been this possible to keep forgetting we weren’t just here together alone, but that we were watching over Maya. I quit the massage, telling him he could get more of it back at Sanctum—not by the physio team, I would be performing those duties on him. We just had to wait until Maya was done with what she came to town to do—and I thought it had been straight forward, but she was unpredictable—too much like Artemis.
19. ARTEMIS
Maya told me everything once the lawyer left. She wasn’t going to gossip with Donovan, but happily sharing everything with me. I felt honored, but most important, I felt like an asset. We sat outside on the terrace while Donovan stood by the door, watching with his eagle eyes at all the rooftops around us—which was a lot.My comms were out, and I just sat there with her as she vented.
“Everything in the story is documented,” she said. “The survivors have legal representation and are protected witnesses through my benefactor. But I don’t think we’re going to be able to get Margaret Ashford. She’s got so many people who will take the fall for it. Probably one of the cousins who works in operations.”
I nodded, biting my lip a little, trying not to let my words out, but they came. There was no stopping it. “I went to Whitespire College, and I think I know you did as well,” I said in a whisper, her eyes widened—I didn’t know if she was happy or scared.
“You did?” She smiled. “Was it Hell for you too? I mean, it must’ve been if you’re here.”
