The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove (33 page)

“Likewise,” Hawthorne said, giving Lia an appreciative once-over and holding her hand a bit too long.

Lia barely registered the perfunctory introduction; all she could focus on was Gus’s description of their relationship. Where was the “very good friend” he’d described her as earlier? Instead he’d told Angel they were “working on some projects.” Is that what she really was to him—a professional colleague with whom he slept on occasion? She felt her blood begin to boil.

“Well, we…I mean
I
…must be getting to bed,” Angel said coyly, looking straight at Gus. “I have a performance tomorrow evening. You will be coming, won’t you, Gus? You haven’t missed one in quite a while.”

Gus glanced at Lia before turning back to the couple. “No, I’m afraid not. Miss Starling and I…have a deadline to meet. But I’m sure Walter will be there to enjoy your performance, won’t you, Walt?”

Hawthorne, who was slightly shorter and somewhat wider than Angel, looked up at his ladylove. “Indeed I will,” he crooned. “Wouldn’t miss seein’ this lovely songbird warble her way across the stage, no sir. To the victor goes the spoils, eh, Wolff?”

The two couples went their separate ways. Gus said nothing as they waited for the lift. Fortunately, when it came, they were the only two on it besides the operator, a young man in a bell hop’s uniform who kept his face impassive and stared straight ahead, as if by doing so, passengers might forget he was there. They sat on the far side of the velvet couch as the elegantly adorned room began its ascent. Lia didn’t even think to be scared, she was so preoccupied with the encounter with Gus’s old flame.

“That was awkward,” Gus said quietly.

Lia kept her voice under control. “Yes it was. Especially since…” Lia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Since before me, Miss Lindemann was your most recent…recent…”

“Mistress? Paramour? May as well say it straight.” Gus ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign he was agitated. “But that’s done with. Believe me.”

Lia pursed her lips. “I’m not so sure about that. Whatever she is, one thing is certain: she still loves you.”

Gus snorted. “No, ma’am. ‘Love’ has nothing to do with it. Angel’s used to callin’ the shots, that’s all. Truth be told, I ended our…relationship…even though the press played it differently. But looks like she landed on her feet, which I knew she would.”

“I mean no disrespect to Mr. Hawthorne, but if you think Angel would be content with someone like him when she could have someone like you, you are sadly mistaken.”

Gus turned to Lia, his hand resting on the settee behind her. “I know you’re put out with me, but I’m gonna take what you just said as a compliment, even if you didn’t mean to give me one. Look, I downplayed you and me with Angel because frankly, I don’t trust her.” He ran his fingers lightly down her cheek. “But know this—no way in hell would I put you in the same category as her.”

Lia put her hand over his and looked into his dark, brooding eyes. “Then where do I fit in?” she asked softly.

“Lia, I—”

At that moment the lift completed its climb and the attendant, who had stood discreetly at the other end of the oblong structure, announced, “Penthouse and Skyview Terrace.”

Gus took Lia by the hand and guided her to a large open-air terrace adorned with potted plants and classic bronze sculptures. The rooftop promenade was encircled by a low fence of elegant ironwork that enabled people both sitting and standing to enjoy the view of the city. Even in darkness, San Francisco was a sight to behold: thousands of gas and electric lamps in buildings and streets and parks brightened their small parameters with distinctive orbs of light, leaving in utter darkness the details normally visible by day. The effect was like viewing a giant line drawing of a village that might be real or might be a fairy tale. Only the cars and carriages with their own mobile lanterns proved the city was a living, breathing creature and not simply a glittering tableaux. In the distance Lia could tell by the lights that boats were still plying the waters of the bay. Only a couple of months ago she and Gus had traveled on one of them. Had so little time really passed? In one respect the time had raced by, but in another it seemed they’d known each other forever—that’s how comfortable she felt with him. She resolved not to ask him to define their relationship as she had almost done inside. He would let her know in his own way and in his own time. She wouldn’t force him to admit prematurely to what she already knew in her heart: they were meant to be together.

She felt his arms steal around her from behind and she leaned back into him. “It truly is a lovely view. Thank you for bringing me up here,” she said.

Gus nuzzled her neck. “The view is nice,” he murmured, “but it doesn’t compare with what I’m looking at right here.”

Lia turned in his arms and reached up to clasp him around his neck. She gently urged him down to her and placed her lips on his. He hesitated only briefly before deepening the kiss, as she knew he would. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

I am a fucking coward
. Gus berated himself mentally as he sat in the upholstered chair in his bedroom gazing upon Lia as she slept. She lay on her stomach, her head turned to face him. One hand was tucked under her chin and she slept deeply, no doubt exhausted. He’d worn her out, demanding she give him as much passion and energy as he poured into her. Repeatedly. He was a selfish bastard, but he couldn’t help it. He needed her, and he needed her to need him.

But the crazy best part of all was, she hadn’t seemed to mind one bit. She’d given him all he’d asked for and more. That gorgeous little slip of a woman had wound him up and taken him higher than he’d ever been before. It scared the hell out of him to think how much power she had.

It was three in the morning and he needed to be away from her, even if by a few feet, in order to think straight. He’d pulled on trousers but remained shirtless and would have considered it a punishment of sorts to shiver in the cold night air, but even that conspired against him: he ran hot and always had.

Seeing Angel last night had heaped a shitload of reality on top of Gus’s head. She knew all about him, and Lia was right—she still wanted him. Given the kind of person Angel was, those facts were the stuff disasters were made of.

But Angel was too worried about her reputation to confront Lia to her face; she wouldn’t want the world knowing she’d been passed over for someone else. So he and Lia were safe for the time being…weren’t they?

He heaved a sigh. He needed to come clean with her, and he needed to do it soon. But once he did, he knew every damn thing was going to change, so he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

Lia opened her eyes and sleepily regarded him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Sure, sweetheart. Just thinking, that’s all.”

She extended her hand. “Well come and keep me warm while you’re thinking.”

Gus looked at her and quirked a smile. “I don’t think I can do both of those things at once when I’m around you.”

Lia smiled and closed her eyes again. “Thinking’s overrated anyhow,” she murmured.

Gus stripped off his pants and climbed back into his big four-poster bed. He gathered Lia to him so that her backside nestled into his groin. Letting a small groan escape, he began kissing her neck, inhaling the scent of woman and sex that had intoxicated him all night. It felt like a shot of the finest whiskey sliding down his insides and warming him up to his toes. She gently pushed back against him and reached behind her to stroke the back of his neck, letting him know she was ready and willing to give herself to him again. He told himself he would do what had to be done soon…

But not tonight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

G
od it feels good to hit something.
Gus set up a rhythm with the punching ball, hitting the suspended rubber bag dead on in a series of short, quick jabs that drove it back and forth into the back corner walls of the gym. He kept up the pace until sweat started dripping down his face and onto his chest, and then he punched some more. Some men liked working out with the newer, heavier bags, but Gus liked the challenge of punching the fast-swinging ball bare knuckled before it punched him back. His chest heaving, he began to angle his jabs in order to catch the return swing from different angles.

“Ah, Mr. Hansen was right. He said you’d probably be here, beating the crap out of that thing. You picturing somebody’s face on that?” Will Firestone’s drawl was unmistakable.

Gus caught the ball just before it swung back and hit him between the eyes. “Yeah, do the initials W.F. ring a bell?” He grabbed a nearby towel and wiped his face and arms.

“Funny,” Will said. He gestured to Gus’s reddened hands. “Maybe you should have gone a few rounds with Jack Root instead of Kid McCoy. You could have been the first ever light heavyweight champ.”

“Right.” Gus drank from a jug of water sitting near his towel. “I assume you’re here for some other reason than giving me grief?”

“Yes, actually. Have you got time for a beer?”

Gus nodded. “Be out directly.” He headed for the locker room for a quick shower and a change of clothes. In fact he was glad to see his partner; anything to take his mind off the mess he’d gotten himself into with Lia.

Ten minutes later Gus and Will were drinking a couple of Anchor Steams over at Fidelio’s Crab Shack, across the street from the Y where Gus habitually worked out.

“What do you need?” Gus asked.

“Not me, friend. I’m here for you. You’ve been out of sorts lately. Mr. Hansen’s noticed, I’ve certainly noticed. You think you’re good at hiding whatever’s going on, but you aren’t.”

Gus snorted. “So, now you’re not only my business partner, you’re my very own Sigmund Freud? When did I get so lucky?”

Will wouldn’t let up. “Look, I told you months ago that Lia was somebody special and that I didn’t want you hurting her. You remember?”

Gus nodded reluctantly.

“And you remember I told you that you were like clockwork when it came to winding down your relationships?”

“You don’t have to remind me.”

“Yeah, well I do. Something’s going on because you’re acting much the same way you’ve acted every time you were ready to cut bait, and I swear, Gus, if you—”

“Okay. All right,” Gus admitted. “Something’s not going right, but it’s not what you think.”

The look Will gave Gus could have cut glass. Shit, on top of everything else, his own partner was ready to smack him. Well, he’d probably do the same if he were in Will’s shoes.

“So spill it.”

Gus paused and took a long pull on his beer. This was harder to get out than he thought. But he needed to vent or he really was going to hit somebody. “All right. Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I’ve gone and done it. Plain and simple, I’ve fallen head over ass in love with Lia. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to a lout like me, and that includes the Klondike.”

“Whoa,” Will said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s just about the last thing I thought you were going to say.”

“Well, I said it and I meant it.”

“So what’s the problem? She doesn’t feel likewise?”

“No, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

Will tipped his glass to Gus’s. “So what’s the problem? You pick a date, you rent a hall…”

Gus rolled his shoulders. “Ah, not so fast. There’s a slight problem.”