Celestial Desire (5 page)

“Thanks for dinner, Mom. This was nice.”

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” Jessica asked, frowning.

“Yes. “

“Please stay a little longer.”

She cast a meaningful glance back toward Chad. “I can’t. I’ve made other plans.”

Jessica raised an elegant brow as her eyes followed Celeste’s gaze. “What plans?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. I’m meeting a friend for coffee.” She couldn’t completely stop the secret smile tugging at her lips. Jessica looked like she wanted to question Celeste further, but dare not do so in the presence of the others. Looking less than pleased, she waved over at Mitch, who instantly made his way to her. “At least allow Mitch to walk you home.”

“I’d be happy to do that, if it’s all right with Celeste.” Zane’s deep voice said from behind her.

“That’s very kind of you,” Celeste answered, pulling her lightweight sweater over her shoulders, “but I’m meeting someone.” Her eyes twinkled in challenge.

He smiled serenely in return. “Actually, that will work out well. I, too, have plans, and was just on my way out. I can walk you on my way.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that would be all right, if you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience.”

“None whatsoever.”

“Who are you meeting again?” Jessica asked, interrupting the gaze they sustained between them.

“A friend.” Celeste gave her a patient smile, “Don’t worry, Mom. Goodnight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
 

They made it out of the building and around the corner before Zane pushed Celeste into the shadows and took her mouth in a knee-weakening kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he confessed. “You look absolutely breathtaking, Celeste.”

“You look pretty hot yourself,” she said, nipping his bottom lip. “Even Cameron couldn’t take her eyes off of you and her tastes don’t run that way.”

“You mean like Chad couldn’t take his eyes off of you?” he growled, drawing her tightly against his aching groin.

“Just professional interest on his part,” she breathed. Celeste closed her eyes and tilted her head back enough to give Zane unrestricted access to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “He graciously offered to personally oversee a training program to have me beach-worthy in six months.”

Zane growled again. “I always knew he was a fucking idiot. Come on. We’d better go or I’m going to take you right here in the bushes. Christ, you smell good.”

He released her and took a deep breath in an effort to control his baser animal urges. Taking her hand, he tugged her back onto the lighted pathway.

“My place is that way,” she said, still panting lightly from that last kiss.

“I know. We’re going for dessert, remember?”

“You were serious about that?” Her genuine surprise and obvious disappointment was precious. Zane laughed and pulled her along.
 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Celeste said quietly. They sat at a small table on the outside patio of Sweet Caroline’s Pastry and Bakeshop, overlooking the bay. It was a lovely night. The skies were clear enough to see the blanket of stars above them, and a warm breeze blew off the water, bringing with it the scents of salt and sea.

Mugs of coffee and a sampler tray of signature desserts sat between them. She looked at it warily. Zane was going to give that loser Chad a good beat-down for making Celeste doubt herself. He nudged the plate of delicious pastries a bit closer to her in encouragement, taking one for himself.

“Do what?” Zane asked, popping a bite-size chunk of Baklava into this mouth.

“
This
.”

“You don’t like it? We can go somewhere else.”

Celeste looked down at her mug. “No, this is wonderful, but… you don’t have to take me out, or waste your time and money for something I’m already willing to give you freely.”

Her words cut him deeper than he wanted to admit. “Is that what you think, Celeste? That the only reason I might want to take a beautiful woman on a date is so she’ll have sex with me?”

She blushed at the compliment, her shoulders lifting slightly in a gentle shrug. “Isn’t that kind of the way it works?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted reluctantly, though he’d never really thought about it that way. He’d always seen it as a gentlemanly thing to wine and dine a woman before seducing her. Put so bluntly, it seemed cheap and demeaning, a socially acceptable form of bartering goods for services rendered. Until Celeste, he hadn’t been interested in anything more than a fleeting, physical relationship. But now…

“It’s okay, Zane,” she said softly.

“No, it’s not, Celeste,” he said. “I want to do this. To just… be with you.”

“Why?” she asked. Those big eyes met his, filled with curiosity and genuine bemusement.

He sat back, raised the steaming mug of coffee to his lips, attempting to organize his thoughts in a way that made sense. He opted for cautious honesty. She seemed to respond well to that. Once again, he had a feeling that his answer mattered greatly, and a lie would put a premature end to anything between them that might yet be.

“Because you intrigue me. I’ve never met anyone like you. Is it so bad that I want to get to know you better?”

“I think you know me better than most,” she chuckled. A pretty rose flush colored her cheeks. He loved that she was still innocent enough to blush like that, even after everything they’d done together. A small knot formed in his chest, a now-familiar warning that Celeste was different from any woman he’d ever known.

“Some parts,” he agreed, matching her smirk with one of his own. “But you’re kind of like a potato chip.”

She raised her eyebrows, bemused. “A potato chip?”

“I can’t eat just one and be satisfied, being with you is like that. What I’ve tasted is delicious, but you leave me craving more.”

Celeste laughed at the analogy. “You’re insane, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Repeatedly,” he grinned boyishly. “So?”

“So what?”

“Tell me about Celeste. Feed my Frankenstein, baby.”

She laughed again, but it was softer this time. Looking down at her plate, she played with the icing on a mini-cupcake in the shape of a rose. “I’m really not all that interesting.”

Zane already knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t say that without revealing that Mitch had slipped him some inside info, and he had no wish to rat out his uncle. More importantly, he wanted Celeste to trust him enough to tell him herself.

“How could you possibly know what I find interesting?”

She reluctantly conceded he had a valid point. “All right. What do you want to know?”

Sitting back, Zane sipped his coffee and pretended to think about it for several long minutes before finally asking, “What do you think of southern California?”

She blinked, surprised by his question. It hadn’t been his first choice, but he’d seen the subtle shift in her body language. Her arms drew closer to her body and she leaned forward just a little, steeling herself in anticipation of something personal. Given the way she averted her eyes and licked her lips, he guessed that she was already thinking of evasive yet essential partial truths.

“Oh. Well, it’s nice enough.”

Zane raised a brow expectantly.

“I mean, I like the warm weather and the sunshine. Most of the people seem friendly enough, and there’s great business potential for someone like me.”

“But?” he prodded, sensing there was more.

“But… I like mountains. Clean air. Lots of trees and quiet and space between me and everyone else. I’m really quite anti-social. If I had better survival skills, I’d live in a cabin and do everything remotely.”

She cleared her throat self-consciously, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink, embarrassed by her own TMI. “What about you? Mitch mentioned you’ve been staying with him while you’re looking for investors for your home security systems.”

“Did he now?” Zane mused, delicately avoiding her question. The truth was he found the idea of living in a secluded mountain cabin terribly appealing, even more so if it included Celeste. Saying so at this point, however, might sound suspect. And while Zane loved kissing her ass (and various other parts of her) literally, he did not want it to appear as if he was doing so figuratively. “What else did my uncle say?”

“That he’s quite proud of you. He says he sees a lot of his brother in you.” Zane took another drink of his coffee to help ease the sudden tightening in his throat. “He and your dad were twins, I take it?”

Zane blinked. “Did he tell you that?”

“No. Purely conjecture on my part. When he spoke of your dad, I could see a lot of emotion in his eyes, like they were especially close. And you look so much like him. It seemed like a reasonable conclusion.”

“You’re very astute.”

She nibbled at a cream-filled chocolate square, her lashes lowering almost shyly. He felt a little twinge somewhere deep in his chest cavity. “I’ll add that to sexy, smart, beautiful and incredibly sexy.”

“You said sexy twice.”

“So I did,” he grinned unrepentantly, but was unwilling to divert the open communication they were sharing with sexual innuendo. He sensed that Celeste was not comfortable with sharing personal things, and wanted to make the most of it while he could. “So tell me, if you’re not crazy about the area, why move out here?” It was a carefully veiled inquiry to see if she would willingly offer any of the information Mitch had hinted at.

She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Several reasons. My mom’s here, for one. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the man who seems to have captured her fancy these days. There hasn’t been anyone she’s been serious about since my Dad.”

“He passed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. He knew first-hand what it was like to lose a parent.

Brows drawing together, Celeste nodded, adopting Zane’s trick of sipping coffee to gain a few extra moments before speaking. “I was pretty young. Seven, I think. He was killed in one of the skirmishes following Desert Storm.”

“Your dad was in the service?”

“Marines.”

“Yeah? Me, too.”

“I know.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Zane knew for certain he’d never mentioned it.

She pinned him with a patient look and her lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “Your tattoo. The one on your left bicep.”

It was a classic ‘duh’ moment; somehow he’d forgotten the globe, eagle, and anchor tattoo, the standard Marine logo, with the words
Semper Fi
inked in script. Spending time with this woman was playing havoc with his usually keen intellect. To be fair, though, his biceps were not usually the focus of her attention when they were naked and sweaty (which, until tonight, described most of their time together thus far), and she had never brought it up. He would do well to remember that Celeste was not the bubble-headed type he was used to.

It was time to continue on. “Did my uncle pass inspection?”

“With flying colors,” she chuckled. “I definitely approve. He’s perfect for her.”

“So you said there were several reasons,” he prodded. “Why else?”

“Well, like I mentioned, it’s a good place to start building some good business contacts.”

“And?” he prompted.

She exhaled. “Why do I think I’m not the only one who might be considered astute around here?” she muttered. It was Zane’s turn to smile serenely. “Okay,” she said, taking another deep breath, as if gathering her courage.

“I’m hoping to start over. California is radically different from my Northeastern upbringing.” And beachy southern California was the last place anyone who knew her would look for her.

“Why do you need to start over?”

She scratched her nail against a dark spot on the ceramic mug. “I made a lot of mistakes, some that nearly cost me my life. I’m not really comfortable talking about it, though.” She glanced up at Zane to gauge his reaction. She really hadn’t revealed much, but he had a feeling it was a big deal for her to even admit that much.

“I can understand that,” Zane said quietly. “I’ve made a few mistakes myself.”

She raised her eyes to his in question, but he was every bit as closemouthed about certain life-shaping events as she was. Besides, he had no wish to send her running in the other direction just yet. A woman like Celeste just might if she knew some of the horrible things he’d done in the name of freedom, acts he’d meted out in the name of justice. Someday, maybe, he might be able to share. If he ever could tell anyone, it would be someone like Celeste. Someone who understood all too well what it took sometimes to survive in an ugly world.

Her eyes were doing that swirling thing again, little ribbons of dark mahogany moving through liquid amber. He could almost see her connecting the dots as she seemed to look into his soul. Strangely enough, he allowed it, sighing. Not talking about it was one thing, but there was no way he could completely hide the damage, not from someone as intelligent and, he was realizing, perceptive, as Celeste. She hid behind that quiet gentleness, used it as a screen, but she was every bit as watchful as he was. Underestimating her would be a grave mistake.

“You’re not re-enlisting.” It was a softly-spoken statement, not a question. As if she
knew
. Knew the deepest, darkest secrets of his soul. And for the first time in years, something unclenched deep in his gut. She was still there, not running away, and she gave no indication of wanting to.

He shook his head, his eyes unreadable. “No. Like you, I’m starting over.”

Or trying to. When he closed his eyes at night, he still heard it. The sharp staccato of rapid gunfire. The hate-filled shouts in a guttural foreign language. The screams of young women who had been abducted and brutalized, sold to the highest bidder. The knowledge that this had been what his mother and sister had faced when they had been taken by the same monsters.

He’d been overseas at the time, but he knew every last detail by heart. It had been a family vacation; his father, his mother, his sixteen year old sister. They’d woken up, eaten breakfast, then went out to do some sightseeing. His father went to take a piss, woke up much later in some rat-infested bathroom with a gash in his head. After showing photos of his missing wife and daughter, the local
policia
informed his father that they had likely been the victims of a human trafficking operation. They were sympathetic, but not optimistic.

Charlie Fagan had appealed to the U.S. Embassy, but they hadn’t been very helpful, either. He took it upon himself to find them, detailing every lead in letters he sent back to Zane. Off the grid on assignment, Zane hadn’t received the thick bundle until after his father’s body had been discovered. His father had been shot execution style and left in his hotel room, dressed in nothing but his briefs.