Bound to His Redemption Page 13

  Caralyn frowned. The woman sounded like she hoped others would be joining her and Eamon. Why? “Yes, it’s just the two of us.”

  The lady nodded jerkily. “Please follow me.”

  Caralyn started after her, and Eamon’s hand fell away from her back. As she turned around, she noticed he was watching their hostess through narrowed eyes and made no move to follow. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’ll discuss it later.”

  Ugh, she hated it when he was tight-lipped, which seemed like most of the time. Still, this wasn’t the time or place for a lengthy talk. “Okay, come on, then.”

  Eamon placed his hand on her waist and guided her toward the corner table where the hostess waited. He really must be anxious since he kept touching her, though a naughty little voice reminded her they’d did much more than touch earlier in the day. Shut up, voice.

  As soon as they reached the table, the hostess set the menus down and left with a mumbled goodbye. The strain seemed to melt from Eamon, which only peaked her curiosity more. He removed his coat with a slow grace that would make any human jealous, using a perfect economy of movement that must come with centuries or more of living. She felt as limber as a lump of rock removing hers.

  After they both sat facing each other, she leaned in and asked, “What was that about?”

  He glanced around as if afraid they’d be overhead. She’d be worried, too, but with the noise and music, a conversation in quiet tones would be safe.

  “She’s a holdout — descended from those who never left. Her kind is different from mine, though.”

  She reared back slightly. “Different? How so? She’s an elf, right?”

  He snorted derisively. “Barely.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  “I’m not a nice person.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. So how is she different?”

  As if a curtain fell, his face shuttered. “Besides being a holdout? It’s a long story I prefer to talk about later.”

  Why didn’t that surprise her? Though she wouldn’t press him here for the tale, she wasn’t letting it go so easily this time. “Back at the apartment tonight?”

  “Maybe.”

  She took that as a yes, but still tried yet another route. “You say ‘holdout’ with such disdain.”

  He sent her a look of patent disbelief. “They chose to be cut off from the rest of their people. They’re ... regarded as somewhat strange.”

  “And I’m sure they think those of you who left Earth are odd, too.”

  “Maybe,” he admitted in a grudging tone.

  She snorted. “They have their perception, and you have yours. Anyway, how can you tell she’s elvin?”

  He gestured dismissively. “We can just sense it.”

  Curiosity peaked, she stared at him. As moments passed, he made no move to elaborate. She shrugged, realizing she couldn’t force him. “Neat trick.”

  “The holdouts can also sense I’ve been banished.”

  “Really? That could be ... awkward.”

  He lofted a brow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “So that’s why she was staring at us and not looking the slightest bit happy.”

  “Most likely.”

  “And how do you feel about it?” He surely had to feel weird when coming face to face with one of his kind.

  “How do you think I feel — thrilled? I’m an exile on Earth whose distant kin barely acknowledges me.”

  “That’s about what I thought.” She tried and failed to keep a shred of sympathy out of her voice.

  His lip turned up at one corner. “I don’t need your pity.”

  “I know, and I’m trying not to give you any. After all you’ve done, you probably don’t deserve it.”

  “You know just the right things to say,” he drawled.

  “I usually display tact, but since you don’t seem to use it yourself, I merely say things the way I see them.”

  He cocked a brow. “Fair enough.”

  A question burned at the back of her mind. “Will these holdouts keep avoiding you, or can you try talking to them?”

  “Most will probably continue to avoid me, but if I get desperate enough, I’m sure I could reach an agreement with one who’s more forward-thinking.”

  “Forward-thinking?” She almost hated asking but did really want to know.

  “Someone who wants money, power.”

  “Of which you have neither. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be staying with me, remember?”

  He flashed her a dark look. “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

  She pasted a sweet smile on her lips. “My pleasure.”

  A young male waiter came to their table, carrying a tray of chips, salsa, and glasses of water. Smiling, he sat the items down before them. “Hello, my name is Diego. I’ll be your server today. What would you like to drink?”

  Caralyn glanced at Eamon. Maybe he’d want some type of alcohol, since she didn’t have any at home and didn’t know his drinking preferences. But she’d let him decide for himself. “I’ll have the strawberry lemonade.”

  “I’ll take a glass of a good red wine.”

  “I know just the one, and Allegrio is great for the price.”

  Eamon raked his gaze over the dark-haired server. “I’m not worried about cost.”

  The waiter’s smile slipped.

  A burst of anger filled Caralyn. Excuse me? What was the pampered princess saying? “Well, I am, so that sounds like a delightful choice,” she said in a pleasant but firm tone.

  The waiter gave her a grateful glance. “I’ll come back later for the rest of your order.” With that, he practically fled their table.

  Caralyn leveled an annoyed glare on Eamon, but he only smirked. Sighing, she shook her head. “I don’t even know why I wanted to take you out among human beings. Your social manners leave a lot to be desired.”

  Eamon picked up his silverware, inspecting it with a critical eye. “My manners are impeccable. I treat everyone according to their station, though, and don’t fawn over servants who are doing their job.”

  “Well, people here in service jobs expect some respect, which you showed that poor man none.”

  He set the silverware back down. “I barely said a word to him.”

  “You didn’t need to. Your tone and the way you looked at him said it all.”

  “Though I see nothing wrong with the way I treated him, I’ll think upon what you said.”

  Coming from him, she probably couldn’t expect anything better. “Please do. Otherwise, you’re going to piss someone off that you shouldn’t.”

  Disdain puckered up Eamon’s mouth. “I can handle any human.”

  Maybe so. “But could you if they had a gun? Or backup in the form of buddies?”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it. That was all the answer she needed. “I thought so. That’s why you need to treat us humans with a little more respect. It’s not only the right thing to do, but it might stop someone from offing you.”

  Though he remained silent, a slight glower had spread across his face. She pointed at the menu lying before him. “Why don’t you look at the menu before our server returns?”

  They both settled down to decide on their entrees, though she already knew what she was getting. Their burritos were the next best thing to heaven. Even their chips were divine, and she hadn’t even begun to dig in. “Try the chips and salsa. They’re delicious.”

  “I need to wash my hands first.”

  “Why?”

  He gave her an unimpressed look. “For the same reason I wash them before every meal.”

  What a germaphobe. “I know you washed them before we left the house. Live a little, and ignore the germs.”

  “How unsanitary.”

  She reached into her purse and grabbed her hand sanitizer. Holding it out to him, she said, “Use this. It kills 99.9% of bacteria.”

  After a slight hesitation, he took it. Thumbing the lid open, he gazed at the
clear gel with a dubious expression.

  “Come on, it won’t bite, and it does work.”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Very well.”

  After he squirted some onto his palm, he handed the little bottle back and vigorously rubbed his hands together as if he were physically attacking the dreaded germ army.

  Stifling her giggle, she picked up a small chip, dunked it in the salsa, and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.” So good.

  She glanced at Eamon, and her heart nearly lurched to a stop before pounding into overdrive. His intense gaze had zeroed in on her mouth, and he licked his lips. The desire blazing in his eyes fired up her own blood, and heat pooled between her thighs. A vague alarm broke through. How could he turn her on so quickly? No man ever had before. But he wasn’t a man. Did he have a sensual pull women couldn’t resist?

  “Did you use some elvin mojo to get me to sleep with you?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  A slow, devilish grin spread over his face. “No, it was all me.”

  She groaned, though whether out of lust or chagrin was up for grabs. Her theory had been shot to hell. It would’ve made her feel better about her own actions and indignant about his. But if it was all him, as he said, well ...

  Grasping for something, anything, to change the subject, she asked, “So do you know what you want?”

  His gaze slid over her as if he were contemplating dessert. “I know exactly what I want.”

  She nearly banged her head on the table. Great, Caralyn, that was a loaded question if there ever was one, and you inadvertently walked right into it. Pretending to ignore the innuendo, she nodded. “Good. I know what I want, too. The burrito. The only downside is that it’s huge. Even when I eat only half of it, I just want to go home and veg out on the sofa, watching TV all day.”

  A pig-out is very unsexy — let him try to turn that into something with a double entendre.

  “I’ll be happy to massage you and, then when you feel better, offer you some exercise.”

  The devious gleam in his eyes gave away what kind of “exercise” he meant. She reached for her water glass with a shaking hand. “Um, no. That’s quite all right.”

  Their server soon came, and while Eamon toned down his pretentious attitude, he couldn’t be termed anything more than distantly polite. While they ate, Eamon spent a good portion of the time trying to turn her face fire-engine red while she attempted to deflect him at every turn.

  Thank God, they were almost done with their food because he had her shifting in her chair, caught between the desire to jump him lustfully and thump him painfully. Right now, the thumping part seemed like it was winning out.

  A glint of blond hair caught her attention. Hayden, looking as classically handsome and muscular as ever, stared at her with an intensity that surely meant problems. He strode toward their table in a manner that left no doubt of his intentions. Her heart sank to her stomach. Seriously, him, now? While she was completely over him, she hated running into him, especially now when she was on what looked like a date with Eamon. Talk about awkward.

  As he strode up to her, Hayden’s familiar smile came out in full force in a flash of white teeth and dimples. At one time, it’d made her a little weak in the knees, but now it left her wanting to avoid him.

  “Hey, Caralyn, it’s so great to see you again.”

  He looked her over and seemed to like what he saw if the warmth in his gaze was any indication. Though she didn’t feel the attraction to him she used to, he still cut a nice image. He wore his jeans almost as well as Eamon did. His knit shirt was open at the neck, which showed off the strong column of his throat.

  Attempting to school her features to reveal nothing but politeness, she nodded. “Hayden, how are you?”

  As always, he gave off a slight blue aura, one she equated with the success-driven soul he was. This time, however, a yellowish tinge had seeped into the edges of his aura. That was unusual. She frowned. What was up with her synesthesia and seeing yellow around the edges of people’s auras lately? First, Eamon’s and then that lady’s at the mall.

  “I’m good.” He glanced at Eamon, and though it was barely noticeable, his grin faltered for a brief second. “Who’s your friend?”

  Her mind blanked. Eh, what did she say? Eamon himself was of no help, and the expression stamped on his face was one of cool displeasure.

  She finally grabbed onto something. “This is Eamon ... a friend from Europe.”

  “Oh, which country?” asked Hayden, from her to Eamon.

  Darn it, why so many questions? She should’ve decided on a cover story with Eamon before taking him out. “Norway,” she said, but her voice conveyed a doubt that made her cringe internally.

  “Norway? I hear that’s a lovely country.”

  “It is,” Eamon said.

  Like Eamon even knew what Norway looked like. Caralyn would’ve snorted if she weren’t so afraid that their ruse was about to be discovered. Heck, she barely had an inkling herself. Thank heavens, Hayden probably didn’t, either. Though he was well educated as a doctor, he hadn’t traveled widely, nor had he been a geography buff.

  “So how do you know each other?” Hayden asked Eamon casually.

  The black-haired jerk didn’t miss a beat. “We’re old family friends. Caralyn is so graciously putting me up while I visit the States.”

  “Is she?” Hayden asked, a note of disapproval in his tone.

  Caralyn didn’t know who she was more annoyed at — Eamon for telling Hayden that he was staying with her, or Hayden for acting put out that Eamon was crashing at her place. Hayden had no right to say anything since he was the one who’d broken up with her. Why would he even care what she did now?

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “He’s staying with me for the time being.”

  Hayden shifted from foot to foot, opening his mouth and then closing it. Caralyn almost groaned because she knew she wasn’t going to like what he said next. When he seemed to come to some resolve, he straightened his shoulders. “Caralyn, can I speak privately with you for a few minutes?”

  Yikes. She glanced at Eamon, who resembled a thundercloud. Double yikes. “I don’t know —”

  A pleading look crossed his features. “Please.”

  Indecision tore at her. She didn’t want to talk to him, but neither could she say no in good conscience. “Fine. For a few minutes.”

  She rose, but Eamon’s hand on her arm stopped her from moving farther.

  He shook his head, and his hand was tense as if he readied himself to spring. “I don’t think that is such a good idea, my dear.”

  Did he have to make this harder by giving the wrong impression? “I won’t be gone long.”

  Eamon’s mouth set into a thin line. “If you are, I’ll come for you.”

  His words were a promise and a threat. She shivered, wishing she’d never brought him here. Instead of responding, she just nodded. Eamon released her.

  Hayden stared at them as if he was having second thoughts, but he snapped out of it and led her into the lobby that housed the bathrooms. Thankfully, or maybe unthankfully, the hallway stood empty of people.

  Once they were past the bathroom doors and at the end of the hall, she lost no time facing him. “So what did you want?” Though she almost winced at the curtness of her question, she knew Eamon would make good on his promise if she didn’t return soon.

  The strong column of his throat bobbed as he gulped. “Caralyn, I don’t know what’s going on between you and that Eamon guy, but —”

  Scowling, she crossed her arms. “Nothing’s going on.”

  “I saw how you two looked at each other. Something’s there. I just don’t know what. But I also know he couldn’t have been at your place long and that you haven’t been seriously involved with anyone recently.”

  “You’ve been —”

  The sound of footsteps drifted to her, and she froze. To her relief, the person entering the hallway wasn’t Eamon.


  She waited until the gray-haired man entered the bathroom and then spoke. “You’ve been spying or asking around about me?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “A few inquiries.”

  “Why? We both know that right after you dumped me, you became involved with Bethany.”

  At that time, it had stung her heart and her pride. Still, he’d paid for his fun because Bethany had “accidently” wound up pregnant. The woman had made it no secret she thought he’d marry her and give her the life of a doctor’s spouse. Funnily enough, all she could now claim of Hayden was child support for their one-year-old daughter.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “And I deeply regret that. I knew what kind of woman she was but ...”

  The middle-aged man left the bathroom, and after he was out of sight, she picked up Hayden’s lost train of thought.

  “You wanted some fun sex,” Caralyn said flatly.

  “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “I know it’s not a good excuse, but after you and I didn’t go the full way for what seemed like the twentieth time, I just became ... frustrated.”

  “I wasn’t ready.” But you were all too ready for Eamon.

  “And I understand that, but at the time, it didn’t make it any easier. I was stupid. I’ll admit it.”

  “Okay. Why are you telling me all this now?” There had to be a reason — one that wouldn’t only relieve his mind of guilt. Otherwise, he could’ve apologized months ago.

  Slouching, he seemed to collapse into himself. “Well, see ...”

  Caralyn sucked her lower lip in-between her teeth. For him to be acting this way, whatever he wanted to say must be bad. “Just tell me. I promise I’ll try not to get mad.” She hoped she could keep her promise because she just knew his words would be upsetting to the both of them.

  “Bethany is getting married, and she’s seeking total custody of Annie,” he said, pain flashing through his eyes.

  A spurt of sympathy pricked Caralyn. “I’m sorry to hear that. It sounds like you need a good lawyer.” Still, why was he confiding in her like this?

  “I have one. Unfortunately, so does Bethany. Her fiancé is an investment banker with deep pockets, far deeper than mine, I’m afraid.”