The Saints of the Cross (29 page)

“Take care of my baby girl, Xander,” Dad manages to say before I slam the door shut between us.

“Evie, is everything okay?” Xander stops on the porch. His face is pure confusion.

“Yes, come on.” I impatiently pull him down the porch steps. I can’t tell him that I’m a nervous wreck over what I’ve got to tell him tonight. That will be a highly delicate conversation; one not to be had on the steps of my front porch. And especially not while Dad is within ear shot.

On the drive to the theater, I make small talk with Xander, the whole time tormented over how I’ll explain my feelings to him. He hasn’t asked a single question about my relationship with Javier, or about what transpired during the limo drive home earlier today. This reserve speaks volumes to his strength of character.

We sit through the long play, mostly in silence, with the occasional comment about the actors or set design. Not once does Xander try to hold my hand or show any other signs of affection toward me. His distant behavior only augments my anxiety. After we leave the theater, I make the first move. As we’re standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring Xander’s Land Rover, I again grab his hand, interlocking my fingers with his. He’s looking toward the parking lot, but as he feels my touch, his gaze turns to me, his eyes probing my face. I give him a reassuring smile.

“I really need to talk with you tonight, Xander.” I try to calm myself, but my heart is pounding and I know my trembling voice is giving away my nervousness.

“Are you okay?” he asks, using his free hand to brush a curl off my cheek. He carefully tucks the loose strand behind my ear, and his eyes move back to mine as he awaits a response. The electricity between us is palpable, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. Without letting go of his hand, I wrap my arm around his neck, pull myself up to his lips, and kiss him tenderly. Xander wraps his free arm around my waist and pulls me in closer. My mind is lost in the moment. All I can think about is how perfect our lips feel together, how perfect my body feels so close to his. I’m intoxicated by him, and I’m wondering how I could ever go back to a life in which there is no Alexander Bartolomeo.

“Ahem . . .”
I turn around and the valet is standing behind me, his arm extended straight out, car keys dangling from his hand.

“Thanks, bro,” Xander says, snatching the keys and handing the valet a twenty.

“Thank
you
, sir,” the valet replies, clearly pleased with the tip. Xander starts to open the passenger-side door, but I stop him with a touch to his arm.

“I don’t want to go to dinner,” I say, looking up to his momentarily confused eyes. “I don’t want to go home, either,” I add with a whisper. Xander pauses, searching my face.

“Why don’t we go to my house?” he offers.“No one’s there. We can talk privately.” His warm breath against my ear sends a tremor through me.

“Yes,” I nod, as he closes the car door.

We drive the twenty-minute distance, mostly in silence, except for Jeff Buckley’s haunting voice singing “Hallelujah” on the car’s MP3 player. Xander places his right hand on my thigh, and I steal glances of his profile: his prominent dimpled chin, square jaw line, sharp cheek bones—a face classically beautiful, yet modern, and at the very least, completely mesmerizing.

We arrive at Xander’s Victorian-style house. He opens the car door, and leads me in the house by the hand. He helps me remove my leather coat and hangs it in the hall closet. We ascend the elegantly carved staircase to his room.

He walks to the bed and sits down on the edge, watching me with his intense, dark stare. I walk to him, my eyes never leaving his, and stand between his legs. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close to me, to my chest, and kiss the top of his head, allowing my lips to linger there in the mass of dark, sweet-smelling curls. I hear his breathing becoming louder, and I feel his shoulders heaving under my arms. I realize that my breathing has grown deeper and is in sync with his.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he says to me, keeping his ear to my left breast. His voice is husky, deeper than usual.

“I know. I can feel it in my throat,” I admit.

He places his hands on either side of my hips, moves me slightly away from him, and looks up into my eyes. I find the vulnerability on his face completely irresistible. When his square jaw trembles with his desire, I pull his suit jacket down off his shoulders and begin working at the buttons of his shirt. I have never felt so absolutely out of control in my life, but I welcome it. Xander watches my hands move down his shirt, but then he’s grabbing my wrists, holding them together between us.

“I know this isn’t what you want,” he says. I silence his protest with a kiss.

“Yes it is,” I insist. “It’s exactly what I want.”

“No, it isn’t.” Xander’s voice is at once sad
and
determined.

“Why are you saying that?” I release him and sit down on the bed next to him.

“I think you know.” Xander turns his face to me, and I see he’s wearing a stern expression.

“Javier,” I admit. I know I’m defeated in this argument. I was hoping Xander had forgotten about him. I know I wasn’t thinking about him five minutes ago, but I really don’t blame him; Javier’s not someone who’s easily forgotten.

“It’s over between us,” I say.

Xander pulls himself up next to me in the bed, wrapping his muscular arms around me and pulling me against his bare chest, his chin resting on my head.

“I wish I could believe that,” he whispers, kissing me gently on the forehead. “But how can I, when you don’t even believe it yourself?”

“Xan—”

“I saw it in your face when you ran up to us at the Cross,” he interrupts before I can mount an argument. “It was a look of relief and happiness and . . . love, even though you were obviously upset. I could tell by the way you looked at him that you have strong feelings for him.”

“That’s funny.” I try a weak laugh and Xander looks down at me with a puzzled expression. “I’m sorry. It’s just that he said the same thing when I told him about us. He said he could tell by the way I looked at you that I have feelings for you. Those were his words exactly.”

“You told him about us?” Xander seems surprised. “What did you say?”

“I said we’ve been dating, and that he can’t just waltz back into my life like nothing happened, because . . .” I hesitate for a moment, because I’m considering the consequences of what I’m about to say. But I can’t suppress my true feelings any longer. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you, Alexander Bartolomeo.”

He’s quiet for a heart-stopping moment, but then he sits bolt-upright in the bed and turns his back to me.

“Evangeline Sweeney, do not say things you do not truly mean,” he whispers, keeping his back turned. I sit up on my knees and move around so that I can face him. He continues to look straight ahead, as if he doesn’t see me. He’s lost in his own thoughts. I place my left hand gently on his right cheek and turn his face toward me. I see the confusion in his eyes, and instantly a bolt of regret shoots through me. The last thing I want is to cause him any pain. He looks me squarely in the eyes, as if searching my soul for some clue as to my true feelings. I can’t understand why he doesn’t believe me.

“Xander, I love you,” I say, and I’m taken aback by the truth and desperation in my voice.

“You love him, too,” he counters after a moment. I consider this statement and decide I won’t hide my feelings.

“Yes, I do,” I say, and he recoils slightly, “But I’m
in
love with you. There’s a difference, you know?”

“I believe I know,” he replies, lying back down on the bed, “because I’ve never been in love . . .” I drop my eyes to my trembling hands, afraid of what he might say next, but he surprises me when he says, “until now.”

I look into his soft eyes, full of truth, and wish that my life could be a hundred times less complicated. I lie down and curl wrap body around his.

“I have to admit,” Xander continues, “that I can’t stand to see you with him. Never mind the fact that he’s my freaking
cousin
.” I open my mouth to protest, but Xander holds a finger to my lips. “I mean, he’s better-looking, richer, and for Christ’s sake, he has royal blood! He could conceivably be king some day!”

“Xander, that’s ridiculous. Do you know how many people have to die for that to happen?” I ask. Javier’s logic
was
sound, after all.

“Well, that is true, I guess.” Xander muses.

“I had hoped that you knew me better than to think that money, power, or social status mean a damn thing to me,” I say. I can’t help but feel somewhat offended.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He kisses the top of my head. “It’s actually one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

“Oh, I’d like to hear some of these so called
reasons
,” I tease.

“Now, if I told you, you’d have the upper hand on me,” Xander says, laughing; but I suspect he means it.

“I don’t think we should start a relationship in which we’re consciously trying to have the upper hand over the other person, do you?”

“
Are
we in a relationship?” Xander pulls away from me and lifts my chin again, searching my face for some evidence of a lie. “Is that what this is?”

“In my heart, I believe it is.” I place a hand to his face, tracing his right cheekbone with my thumb. “More importantly, I
want
it to be.”

“What about him?” Xander looks up at the ceiling, I suspect in an attempt to hide his disdain, disapproval, or both. How could I possibly feel good about coming between family members? They seemed congenial—downright brotherly—when they saw each other at the Cross yesterday.

“He’s asked me to meet with him at his hotel tomorrow,” I say nonchalantly, trying to make the meeting seem insignificant, although I know in my heart it isn’t.

“Why?” he asks. I hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“I really have no clue, Xander.” I look up at him. “He just said he had something he wanted to talk with me about. It doesn’t sound like a big deal.”

“Well, I’m going with you,” he replies with a gruff.

“No, you’re not,” I say. Then I realize how my abrupt tone could be interpreted. I add softly, “Camilla’s going with me. You know that’s as good as having two body guards.”

Xander frowns and begins to argue his point, but I place a finger to his lips before he can speak.

“Whatever he wants to talk to me about is between me and Javier. I’m sorry, but it’s not your place to go with me. You’ll have to trust me.”

Xander exhales long and hard. For a moment, he stares up at the ceiling as if watching an intense movie scene.

“I know you’re right,” he finally says. He turns and looks me in the eyes. “I’m going to show you how much I trust you by never asking you about it again. But if you want to talk to me about what happens, then I’ll listen.”

“That’s one of the reasons I adore you so much,” I say with a smile. “You’re the most understanding person I know.”

He pulls me closer and kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. His hands are gently, but urgently searching me, and I whisper in his ear what I want him to do. We’re entwined in one another, and I feel as though every cell in my body has been screaming for this moment my entire life. I completely lose myself, and so does he.

***

I awake to my phone ringing, and I sit bolt-upright in bed, realizing that I had not called my dad last night. I jump up and frantically dig through my purse for the blaring phone. I sigh when my mind finally registers that it’s Camilla’s ringtone.

“Hello?” I whisper into the receiver with my hand over my mouth. I glance over at Xander, who is sleeping peacefully. He looks like an oversized child lying there on his stomach—he has this strange angelic look on his face. It’s strange, because what happened last night was anything but angelic—although I’m pretty sure the heavens parted.

“Where the hell are you? I’m at your house, and your dad is seriously pissed.”

“Let me talk to him,” I say. I hear a muffled whisper, as if she has her hand over the phone.

“Evangeline Sweeney. I realize you are eighteen years old, but as long as you are living in my house, you will give me the common courtesy of calling me if you will not be coming home!” Dad’s voice is beyond pissed.

“Nash—”

“And another thing, you will address me as Dad. I’ve raised you your entire life, and I believe I have earned that title. Understood?”

“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m at Xander’s, and I fell asleep. I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Xander’s awake and watching me from the bed. I mouth
“be quiet”
to him. He stretches his arms out and grins at me.

“Evie, we will talk about this later. Here’s Camilla.” I hear Camilla talking to Nash in the background:
Thanks, Mr. Sweeney. I’ll see you soon. Bye.
Then a door shuts.

“Where are you? I thought you wanted me to pick you up at noon.”

“I’m at Xander’s.”

“Wait . . . you’re telling me you spent the night there?” Camilla sounds shocked and seriously annoyed.

“Yes, Camilla. Is that okay with you?”

“I’ll be right over.” Then silence on the other end.

“Freaking
great
!” I sigh, throwing the phone on the bed. I start to gather my things, but Xander reaches out with his long arm and pulls me down on the bed. However, I’m not in the mood for play.

“Xander, I have to get ready. Camilla’s on the way over here, and she doesn’t sound excited that we spent the night together.” I try to wrestle out of his arms, but he holds me tight. He lifts my chin and kisses me on the lips. His body is warm and inviting, and I feel myself relaxing against him.

“She’ll get over it,” he says and loosens his grip on me.

“I don’t think she will.”

“She’s territorial. It’s one of the qualities that make her such a loyal friend.”

“Well, I want to keep her as a friend, so I’d better be ready to go when she gets here. She was not ecstatic about driving me into the city today—”

“To see Javier.” Xander looks down, then back to me. “Stay here with me today. I don’t want you to go.”

“Xander, I get it. I understand why you don’t want me to see him. You probably think a clean break is best,” I say. Xander shrugs and nods in agreement. “But I need some kind of closure. There’s too much history and feelings for there not to be closure. I hope you understand.”

“I understand, and I trust you. I just know that if I were him, I’d try anything to get you back, and that’s what’s worrying me right now.”

I wave at him to get his complete attention. “I am a human being, complete with free will. Even if he were trying to get me back, as you say, it would take an act of God. Okay? Can you please trust me on that?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” I say and kiss him tenderly on the lips. “Now, I do need to get ready before Camilla gets here.”

“There’s a guest bath down the hall, and there should be toiletries in the cabinet. I’m going to jump in the shower in my bathroom. It’s probably better if I’m not around when Camilla arrives.”

“Chicken! Let me take the heat alone!” I was only halfway teasing. Xander laughs and kisses me on the forehead.