Twisted Fate: Of Love And Darkness Part 6

Nate nodded.

"f.u.c.k me," Gavin muttered as he walked into the dining room and filled a lowball gla.s.s half full of whiskey. He drained the gla.s.s and then took the bottle into Sydney's bedroom.

"Thank you for the ride," Sydney said demurely as she slid into the pa.s.senger seat of William's tiny yellow sports car.

"No problem."

He guided the car away from the curb and Sydney leaned back in the b.u.t.tery soft leather seat, glad to be off her feet for the first time in over ten hours. When events fell on weekdays, it was always more difficult, because her office work still had to be done as well. And this particular event had been more stressful than most because the men in attendance had taken an unnatural liking to her.

It had been an intimate dinner party, a fundraiser, and most people in attendance were mated-no-married. Yet that did not stop the men from staring at her, flirting with her, even trying to slip her business cards with cell phone numbers scrawled on the backs. She'd never received so much attention from the male species before in her life. She had been flabbergasted, and completely out of her element.

It was daunting, to say the least, to have so many men all of a sudden vying for her attention. She wasn't normally the type of girl men noticed with such . . . intensity. She was pretty enough to warrant a casual glance, maybe even an occasional lingering appreciative look, but she was well aware she was no striking beauty.

Were they s.h.i.+fters? She couldn't be sure, because she had no idea how to figure it out, without coming right out and asking. That fissure of awareness she had just before Gavin walked into her life, and then again just before the Rakshasa attacked her, hadn't really happened while she'd been at work. Probably because she stayed in a perpetually heightened state of awareness all day today. She recalled the startling moment when she could have sworn she heard Gavin calling her name, and she frowned.

"I thought Gavin would pick me up, since he dropped me off earlier." She hoped her tone sounded light and casual.

William made a face. "He's pa.s.sed out face down on your bed at the moment."

"What?"

William glanced at her and then turned back to the road. "We have a few houseguests. He isn't handling it very well."

"A few?" Sydney repeated, as she stood in the foyer twenty minutes later, surveying the scene in her living room. As a unit, five heads swiveled around and noticed her for the first time. An instant later, five s.h.i.+fters were gathered around her, taking her coat, her purse, offering to slip the boots off her feet, asking if she was hungry or thirsty or tired. Did she need a backrub? Ice cream? Was she free to go out next Tuesday?

"Next Tuesday?" she asked in confusion.

The young blond s.h.i.+fter looked apologetic. "We've already drawn straws for who gets the first date when. I just wanted to be the first to ask."

"You drew straws to see who gets to go out with me?" Sydney's voice rose with her disbelief.

She'd been on precious few dates in her life, and she'd had to work at it reasonably hard each time. Never had she imagined she would find herself surrounded by five men, all clamoring for her attention. Make that six, she thought, as she recalled William told her Gavin was pa.s.sed out on her bed. Of course, he wasn't clamoring for her attention like the rest of them. He simply a.s.sumed he had it.

"Excuse me," she said as she pushed her way through the crowd, to get to the hall leading to the bedrooms. "Pardon me. I'm just-I'm going back to my bedroom. I highly value my privacy," she announced loudly. "No one is allowed anywhere near my bedroom without my express permission. Does everyone understand?"

All five nodded solemnly.

"Great. Okay. Well, nice to meet you all."

She hurried down the hall, slipped into her bedroom, and quickly closed the door, just in case someone out there wasn't a very good listener and decided to follow.

The light of a full moon shone through the windows, sending a pattern of white rectangles across the bed. She could see Gavin, who was indeed sprawled face down on her bed. She sighed and stepped farther into the room.

His head was buried between two pillows. One hand hung over the side, while the other was curled into his shoulder. His long legs stretched to the foot of the bed.

He'd changed, she noticed, into his own clothes. She spotted a black duffel bag parked on the dresser. Apparently, Gavin had gone home at some point during the day and gathered a few supplies. He, along with the five men in her living room, intended to stay awhile.

Gently, so as not to disturb him, Sydney sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the pillow covering his head. He s.h.i.+fted restlessly, turned his head to the side, smacked his lips, and then settled back into sleep. She saw the bottle of whiskey sitting on the bedside table and lifted it. Empty. She returned it to its perch and then allowed herself to do something she'd wanted to do since the moment she laid eyes on him: she ran her fingers along the stubble on his cheek. It was unexpectedly soft, which took her by surprise.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured as she continued to watch him sleep.

"End this charade. Make love to me."

Sydney gasped and leaped off the bed. She hadn't expected him to be awake.

Gavin's arm shot out and grabbed the belt loop on her pants, pulling her back to him.

"Don't go," he mumbled. "Don't leave me. I'm always alone."

"I'm not going to make love to you, Gavin." But she did sit back down on the bed. His arm snaked around her waist and settled there.

"Have you ever?"

"Have I ever what?"

"Made love. To anyone."

"Of course I have," she said indignantly.

"What's it like?"

"Excuse me?"

"What's it like? I've never made love before. I just wonder if it's different."

"Of course you've made love before," Sydney insisted. He was far too s.e.xy, far too sure of himself to still be a virgin. Besides, just yesterday evening, he had bragged about the women he slept with.

"Nope. Never. Plenty of s.e.x. Never made love. Never thought I'd want to. But I do. With you." He rolled over onto his back. The hand that had been around her waist lifted and draped across his forehead, while he wrapped the other around her, as if he couldn't keep himself from touching her.

"You'll let me someday, won't you?"

Sydney hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but she wasn't sure if that was such a good idea. "Will you remember this conversation in the morning, Gavin?" she asked instead.

"Probably not. Drank a lot of whiskey. Needed to. Otherwise I would have picked a fight with those five b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in your living room, and then your Fate would have had a h.e.l.l of a mess to clean up."

"I appreciate your consideration for William's sake," she said with a wry smile.

"Not consideration for him. I just didn't want you to pull that mojo c.r.a.p on me again. Or worse, refuse to sleep with me. Sleep with me, Sydney. I like the way your body fits with mine."

Sydney stared at him.

"Your other option is to curl up with William. But I think he's stealing Quentin from you, so there might be three of you in the bed. You are not sleeping out there with all those h.o.r.n.y b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Come to bed. I promise I won't do anything you don't want to do."

Sydney blew out a breath. "Okay." She stood up, and after promising she was just going across the hall to the bathroom to prepare for bed, Gavin let her go. When she flipped on the light and looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom, she smiled.

He'd just called her by name.

Chapter 6.

"f.u.c.k me."

Sydney jerked out of sleep when Gavin groaned and muttered the explicative. They were spooning, she realized. Her backside was pressed intimately against his p.e.n.i.s, which was swiftly growing in size. Gavin rolled over onto his back and Sydney immediately felt bereft, almost lost for a moment.

She glanced over her shoulder. He lay there with his arm thrown over his face.

"Gavin?"

"What?" His voice was more gravelly than usual, and gruff.

"Are you okay?"

"I drank a f.u.c.king fifth of Jack last night. Do you think I'm okay?"

Not a morning person, she decided. Certainly not after a night of heavy drinking.

"Can I get you anything?"

"You can make the G.o.dd.a.m.ned hammers in my head stop. And water. Jesus, my mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton."

"Bear," Sydney muttered as she slid out of the bed. He was as grumpy as a bear disturbed in the middle of hibernation.

"f.u.c.k off."

Okay, worse than a bear. Sydney hurried from the room.

"Took you long enough," he complained when she returned and handed him a gla.s.s of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. He ripped off the cap with his teeth, dumped four capsules into his hand, tossed them into his mouth, and then drank the entire gla.s.s of water.

"I had to wait for someone to get out of the bathroom so I could get the ibuprofen," she said defensively. She felt oddly hurt by his gruff treatment this morning. He'd been so sweet and nice last night. And he called her by name. He had been beginning to show signs of acting like the sort of man she might actually consider mating with. Maybe.

Apparently, it had been the liquor talking.

"Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are still here? You can kick them out, you know."

"I know. But it doesn't feel right. Not when they travelled so far. Ignacio came all the way from Spain."

"He may have been born in Spain, but he lives in f.u.c.king Milwaukee now. That's only a day's drive from here. Send him home."

"I'm going to leave this room now, before this conversation deteriorates any further. If you think it would be better for all involved, I'll bring you breakfast in here, so that you don't have to pretend to be nice to everyone out there."

"I would never pretend to be nice to those a.s.sholes, even if I didn't have the hangover from h.e.l.l. Get out of here. It p.i.s.ses me off when you're nice to me while I'm being an a.s.shole."

She left.

As far as Sydney was concerned, this day could be ripped from her life and burned. Nothing went right. It started out lousy, and progressed down that same path until she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and bury her head under the covers until it was over.

But she couldn't even do that, because Gavin had determined her bedroom was his bedroom, and she was half afraid she would either run into him, or he would walk in on her, and he was the very last person she wanted to be alone with at the moment.

Mostly, it was because she felt humiliated. He had been so nice and considerate the night before. She had willingly climbed into bed next to him, lay there while he curled himself around her like a positively toasty coc.o.o.n. And he purred. He had actually purred, like a content cat. It was oddly endearing and strangely comforting, and Sydney had fallen into one of the best sleeps she'd had in a very long time.

She had even contemplated doing more than just sleep with him. The man positively radiated s.e.x, and he kept insisting they were mates, and Sydney could not deny the way her body felt whenever he was in her presence. Where was the harm in sleeping with him? Maybe, just maybe, they would enjoy themselves, and one time would turn into another time and another and maybe, eventually, she would find herself in love, and wouldn't that just be, well, wonderful?

Fat chance now, she thought gloomily. As much of a jerk he had been when he woke up this morning, Sydney had no intention of letting him back into her bed, even if it was just to sleep. Which she found terribly depressing. And then she got mad at herself for still wanting to sleep with him, even after the way he treated her.

"How is your steak, mi Chala?"

Sydney blinked and regarded the man seated across the table from her. Ignacio was tall, dark, and handsome, by any woman's standards, and his accent would no doubt make lesser women swoon. He was unfailingly polite, and she was confident every day would be Valentine's Day, if she chose to mate with him. When she agreed to this date, he had immediately left the house, and when he returned to sweep her off to dinner, he produced a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers, and an ornate gold brooch, all gifts for Sydney.

But her thoughts were on another s.h.i.+fter, and he was making it difficult for her to enjoy this evening out.

The sad fact was, she never would have agreed to this date if Gavin had his head on straight. If he would have acted half as nice this morning as he had the night before, when he had been under the influence of a fifth of Jack Daniels, Sydney would have happily booted every single one of her suitors and focused on attempting to grow a relations.h.i.+p with Gavin. It was his fault she was on this date, and it was his fault she wasn't enjoying it.

Mostly, it was his fault she wasn't enjoying it, because she could actually feel him. It was annoying, this strange connection between them. She would have thought her anger at his behavior this morning would have severed whatever mild connection they had been forming, but that was not the case. The connection had grown so strong, it felt as if he was in the restaurant with her. But he wasn't.

When the feeling first washed over her, she had immediately lifted her gaze and scanned the entire area. And when it did not go away, she excused herself to use the ladies' room, and then she made a circuit of the place, searching for him. If he was there, she intended to give him a serious piece of her mind. He had no claim on her. He had made that perfectly clear this morning.

"I'm not really a steak person," Sydney admitted as she pushed the prime cut of beef around on her plate.

Ignacio had taken her to one of the best steakhouses in the state. They had a secluded table in the back, and no less than five servers fawned over them. When she took a sip of water, someone reached over her shoulder to refill the gla.s.s. Every time a course was removed, another person appeared to sc.r.a.pe the crumbs from the table. The manager hovered, introducing himself and informing them that he was at their service, should they need anything, anything at all. It should have been the best dining experience of her life.

"My Chala does not like steak?" Ignacio said, a little too loudly. He lifted a hand and beckoned a server, who immediately rushed to their table.

"No, Ignacio, it's fine. There's nothing wrong with-"

The server's appearance cut her off.

"Take this away. My Chala is not pleased."

"Stop calling me that," Sydney said through gritted teeth. The man was worse than Gavin.

Ignacio ignored her protest. "It is not good enough. Nothing is good enough for my Chala."

The server slid the plate away and stammered apologies.

"Ignacio, it was fine, really. I'm just not very-" She was interrupted again when the manager swooped down upon the table.

"Mr. Arroyo-Lopez, my sincerest apologies. I told the chef that cut was too well done. Should I bring another? What can I do to make this up to you?"

Sydney shook her head. "I really don't want-"

Ignacio cut her off and nodded. "Bring me another filet, with that crab bearnaise on top. Rare, this time."

The manager apologized again and hurried off to do his bidding. Sydney stared at him. "I don't like my steak rare."