We stood at odds across the kitchen island. I lingered behind a barstool, gripping the top of its curved iron back, while he hovered near the espresso machine. It whirred and hissed before spewing a stream of dark, foamy brew into the waiting mug. He wore a suit, as always, but he looked relaxed in it. Comfortable with high collars and hard lines. Always so buttoned up.
He was less relaxed than he had been, though, arms crossed in a defensive pose and his eyes narrowed with his scowl.
I sighed. “Beck?—”
He shook his head. “I’m not sending you back to Maslow’s—” his frown deepened— “torture chamber. You aren’t safe there. Who knows what he’ll do to you?”
“Iknow,” I replied softly.
I knew it would hurt.
Maslow would be angry about the poker game. Beck’s interruption had foiled his plans and embarrassed him in front of our heavenly hosts. He’d lost, and he wasn’t the kind of man to fail gracefully. Even with Fairmont Street within his grasp, he wouldn’t forget the insult, and he wouldn’t forgive me for being a part of it. So I would pay for it with a pound of flesh.
Beck held his stance and left the coffee steaming as he argued back. “Well, I won’t allow it. I made you a deal?—”
“I don’t remember signing anything.”
His expression tightened, then went soft when he caught the flicker of my smile. I stepped around the island and closed the space between us, slipping my arms under his jacket to press in close. I liked it there, with my face tucked against his shoulder and his arms circling me in return.
“Cute,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm. “You’re very cute, but Ididmake you a promise, and throwing you back into that lion’s den would break every bit of it.”
“You aren’t throwing me,” I mumbled against him. “I’m asking.”
I was asking for something that terrified me, trying to be brave while holding on to him like a lifeline. I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to face Maslow’s wrath, but the choice was mine to make. Even if it didn’t feel like much of a choice at all.
Beck grabbed my arms and pushed me back a step so he could catch my gaze.
“Why, Zephyr? We’re so close.”
“That’swhy. Mazzy thinks you want me?—”
“Idowant you,” he cut in.
The statement warmed my insides and bolstered my fragile confidence. “That’s all he thinks,” I said. “And he won’t risk it. If I’m the collateral, he won’t really hurt me.” I hoped. “But if I don’t go back, he’ll be mad, and he might take it out on the other guys.”
Beck swallowed as though ingesting the information, like he had no choice but to take it in. He had no real reason to care about the other dancers Maslow employed, but he seemed to worry along with me. His plan included them too, though it felt impossible to conceive how it would work out.
Strings of fate and scales of judgment and actual magic. My brain could hardly contain it all.
While I marveled, Beck fretted.
“He’ll starve you.” There was a hint of pain in his voice. “He’ll take all this…” His gaze swept over me, and there was so much love in it. That tender care echoed in the brush of his fingers as he swept my bangs out of my eyes. “I hate seeing you like that.”
Turning toward his hand, I placed a kiss on his knuckles. “If Mazzy makes me empty, then you’ll just have to fill me up again.” Dipping my head, I looked up at him, then dragged a fang over my lower lip. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Daddy?”
Beck let out a groan and grimaced, and I knew I’d won. “Goddamn it, Zephyr.”
“We’re so close,” I reminded him. “Soon I’ll be free, and I’ll never be hungry again.”
He nodded, jaw tight and eyes cut away. “I’ll take you back. On time. Not a minute before.”
“Thank you.”
With his gaze aside, he had a clear line of sight to the microwave clock. After a moment’s pause, the tension in his features eased, and his mouth curved with something wicked. “Looks like we’ve got a little time to kill.”
Sliding his hands under my thighs, he scooped me up and set me on the counter beside the espresso machine. A firm shove at my knees spread them, and he stepped between them quickly enough to steal a gasp from my lips.
His mouth stayed on mine in a kiss that started sweet, then turned demanding. I broke away and tipped my head back. My giggles echoed off the tile.
