The Siren (15 page)

“Yeah. That’s noon.”

“Gotcha.” She flicked noon with her fingers hard enough Wesley flinched.

“Ouch!” He laughed. Nora flicked again.

“What are you doing?”

“In S&M, if you’re about to give someone a beating, you start off soft to desensitize the skin. A little pain at first can prevent a lot of pain later.” She kept flicking until their target spot had turned bright red.

“This might be worse than the needle.”

Nora looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, I see what you did there,” Wesley said and Nora finally stopped flicking him. “Now what?”

“Take this and turn around,” she ordered, handing him his insulin pen. “Lean back against me.”

Wesley turned his back to her and Nora wrapped her arms around him. His young skin was smooth and warm, and when the swell of her breasts made contact with his back, she sensed him shiver. She reminded herself she was trying to help him, not seduce him.

“Okay, look down at my hands.” Her hands were on his rib cage. “Breathe in so deeply that you inflate your lungs like a balloon and my fingers spread apart.”

Wesley took a deep breath as instructed and Nora felt her hands open up.

“Now exhale slowly for five seconds and then breathe in again.”

Wesley obeyed, taking another breath in and then exhaling one more time.

“This time,” she said, “breathe in just as deeply but when you exhale, pop the air out hard and stick the needle in. I’ll count to five and then you pull it out.”

One more time Wesley pulled in air. “Now blow it out hard,” Nora said.

Wesley pushed the air from his lungs and from the tiny flinch she felt she knew he’d stuck himself.

She counted to five slowly and dropped a small kiss on his back between each number. At five he pulled the needle out.

He turned around and beamed at her.

“That’s my boy,” she said, and Wesley hugged her.

“That wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.”

“It’s a good trick,” Nora said as Wesley released her. “Works if you get a body piercing, too. I speak from experience.” Wesley had never seen where she was pierced.

“No, thanks. The tattoo was enough for me.”

Nora’s eyes widened with shock.

“What? You have a tattoo?”

Wesley groaned.

“Yes, I have a tattoo. A little one.”

“Wesley—you’re telling me that you had a mental block over injecting insulin in your stomach but you got a tattoo?”

“I didn’t have to give myself the tattoo. And believe me, I didn’t watch.”

Nora pursed her lips and looked him up and down.

“Well, I’ve seen you shirtless and I’ve seen you in boxers so it’s got be somewhere in this area.” She pointed at his pelvic region and Wesley blushed again. Caught. “I knew it. Show me, show me.”

“I am not going to show you. It’s stupid.”

“I’ll show you my piercing.”

“How about I show you my tattoo and you don’t show me your piercing. Deal?”

“My idea was better but whatever. Show me.”

Wesley exhaled loudly through his nose and started unbuttoning his jeans. Nora applauded. Rolling his eyes at her, Wesley pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to reveal a small tattoo on his right hip. Nora leaned over and looked at it.

“It’s a trumpet,” she said, surprised by the strange image.

“It’s the bugle from the call to post at Churchill Downs for the Kentucky Derby. One of the horses Dad worked with did really well at the Derby a couple of years ago. He got the horse’s name tattooed on his shoulder. When I turned eighteen, I got the bugle. I only got it on my hip so Mom wouldn’t see it.”

“It’s very sexy.” Nora reached out and traced the tattoo with the tip of her finger. Wesley inhaled as her finger touched the sensitive skin. He was so responsive to everything she did that she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like in bed. But she didn’t kid herself. She knew his responsiveness had very little to do with her and a lot to do with his being nineteen and still a virgin.

“It’s not supposed to be sexy. It’s a tribute to the most important horse race in the world.”

Wesley pulled his boxers back up and buttoned his jeans.

“So the Kentucky Derby’s a big deal?” Nora asked. “Must be if I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s the most exciting two minutes in sports.”

“Two minutes?” she scoffed. “I better get a dozen roses and a big apology if all I get is two minutes.”

“It’s a very long two minutes if you have a horse in the race. It’s not just that race, though. The whole thing lasts all day. There are races before and then all the people watching and the women in their crazy hats and everybody’s drunk on mint juleps, which are disgusting if you ask me, but don’t tell anyone I said that.” Wesley looked at her and took a quick little breath. “You should come with me this year.”

Nora raised her chin and studied Wesley. He didn’t quite meet her gaze.

“Did you just ask me out on a date, Wes Railey?”

“Nora, we live together. Asking you on a date would kind of be a step backward.”

“Yes, but we’re roommates. We don’t
live
together. And don’t you think it’ll be a little hard to keep the erotica-writer-roommate thing a secret if I show up with you wearing a sombrero at the Kentucky Derby?”

Wesley reached down and picked up their shirts off the floor. He pulled his T-shirt on, but Nora was in no hurry to get dressed. She enjoyed watching Wesley trying not to watch her too much.

“I sort of told Dad about you.”

“You’re kidding. Did he freak out?”

“I didn’t go into detail. I just sort of let him think I had a girlfriend so he’d really back me up about not moving home. He was starting to get worried his son was, you know—”

“A stallion not interested in mares?”

Wesley laughed. “Right. He was thrilled.”

“I never figured you for a liar. I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t lie. You’re a girl who’s a friend ergo—”

“Girlfriend. Well, if I’m going to be your girlfriend, this virginity thing has got to go. But after dinner,” she said and finally pulled her blouse back on.

She started to leave the bathroom but Wesley grabbed her hand.

“You didn’t say if you’d go with me or not.”

Nora smiled up at him. She couldn’t believe how serious Wesley was being.

“Yes, Wes. I will go with you to the most exciting two minutes in sports. When is it?”

“First Saturday in May.”

“I’ll book the flight. You get the tickets.”

“I already have the tickets. I go every year. My family would cancel Christmas before they missed the Derby. I only missed last year because of finals. No school in Central Kentucky would ever hold a final on Derby Day.”

“We’re all damned Yankees up here, aren’t we?”

“I like you Yankees. Y’all talk funny.”

Nora twined her fingers in his and studied him. Since getting out of the hospital, he’d seemed older, calmer, more sure of himself. And he also seemed more intent on spending time with her. He read in her office while she wrote. When she moved from her office to the kitchen, he went with her. She liked having him as a shadow. Since getting him back home she’d wished more than a few times that they were lovers so they could sleep in the same bed. As much as he shadowed her by day, she shadowed him at night. Ever since he came home from the hospital, she found herself waking up several times a night to make sure he was okay. She’d half considered getting a baby monitor and hiding it under his bed.

Nora took a step toward him and heard the devil on her shoulder telling her to kiss him, really kiss him for the first time. She tried to hear the angel on her shoulder but she remembered her angel had long ago turned in his letter of resignation. She wrapped an arm around Wesley’s neck and rose on tiptoes.

From the kitchen came the unmistakable sound of her hotline phone blaring its Klaxon ringtone at her. Wesley sighed and rested his chin on top of her head.

“It’s okay,” Nora said and kissed him quick on the cheek. She still had a lot of writing to do for Zach, and it would take a whole team of stallions to drag her away from Wesley tonight. She leaned into Wesley’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Just let it ring.”

12

Four weeks left…

W
hat the hell was he doing?

Zach wondered how many times since meeting Nora he’d asked himself that question. He was getting into double digits at least. He paid his cabdriver and faced Wordsworth’s Bookshelf, the venue for Nora’s book-signing today. He shouldn’t be here.
Saturnalia
wasn’t even a Royal House title. The previous books didn’t matter, but for some reason Nora was starting to.

Zach entered through the grand double doors and found the signing area at the back of the store. It was a small sort of stage with a table and a chair roped off on three sides. Wesley stood on the platform talking to a man in his fifties with a kind face and absolutely no hair on his head. Zach stepped inside the roped off area. A table sat in front of a wall and was stacked high with copies of Nora’s most recent bestseller. The bald man excused himself to fetch a pitcher of water and a glass.

“Nice tie,” Zach said to Wesley. “Quite natty.”

“Natty—British compliment, right?”

“Right.”

“Nora’s orders. Not really a tie guy.”

“Her orders? Where is our autocrat anyway?”

“Hiding somewhere. Her last book with Libretto came out two months ago. This is her last event for them. She loathes these things.”

“As extroverted as she is, I would have thought signings would be her forte.”

“She’s all bark, Zach.” Wesley’s eyes scanned the crowd that was beginning to form behind the red ropes. “Being around a lot of people bothers her when she’s not in total control of the situation.”

“Control freak, is she?”

Wesley pointed to his chest.

“Note the tie.”

Zach laughed at Wesley’s disgusted, but amused face. It still seemed strange and uncomfortable that Wesley was so devoted to a woman so much older than he. He knew how dangerous romantic hero-worship could be.

“Looks like it’s about to start,” Zach said as the bald man put the pitcher and glass on the signing table. Zach counted about forty or fifty people already in the queue and more joining by the minute. “Should I go fetch our elusive author?”

“Would you mind? I want to stay here and keep an eye on things.”

Zach noticed Wesley paying close attention to the people waiting for Nora. Wesley’s eyes studied every man in line. There were more men than Zach would have expected. Erotica was usually marketed as a subgenre of romance and yet there were at least a half a dozen adult men and a few teenage boys in the line holding shiny new copies of Nora’s latest release.

“Worried about the fans?” Zach asked.

“You would be, too, if you had to open the fan mail.”

“Point taken. I’ll go find Nora. Any suggestions?”

Wesley met the eyes of one young man in the crowd. Zach noted nothing particularly menacing about him although he did seem nervous and impatient and was casting envious glances at him and Wesley standing inside the ropes. He wore an army-green jacket and heavy combat boots. Not the typical romance fan. But then again, nothing about Nora or her books was particularly typical.

“Try upstairs,” Wesley suggested. “The kids’ section.”

Zach had trouble accepting the idea that Nora would be hiding with Winnie the Pooh and Harry Potter. Of course, he would never have imagined her hiding in a church, either. He took the escalator to the second level and followed dinosaur footprints painted on the carpet that led him to a brightly colored alcove. He turned a corner at the picture books and heard a familiar raucous laugh.

On a tiny stage Nora sat with a book in her hand, her coat laid across her lap to cover her too short red leather skirt. Three small children—one boy about five or six years old and two tiny girls sat wide-eyed and spellbound listening to Nora.

“‘Beware the Jub-Jub bird,’” Nora recited as she held the book open so the children could see the pictures, “‘and shun the frumious Bandersnatch.’”

“What’s a Bandersnatch?” the smallest girl asked, tripping over the awkward word.

“It’s like a bird-dolphin-hippo-snake thing,” Nora explained matter-of-factly. “But more frumious. Got it?”

The kids nodded and giggled as Nora turned the page. Zach coughed to get Nora’s attention.

“Oh, what do you want?” Nora closed the book and glowered at him.

“Your presence, madam,” Zach said, putting on his most posh Oxford accent, “is required on the main floor.”

Nora groaned and stood up.

“Sorry, kiddles. I have to go.”

The older girl tugged on Nora’s sleeve.

“Miss Ellie,” she said, “is that your boyfriend?” she asked in a whisper everyone could hear.

“No,” Nora said in a stage whisper of her own. “He’s my babysitter.”

Nora left the children with obvious reluctance.

“I’m your editor. Not your babysitter. And who is Ellie?”

“The question is ‘Who was Ellie?’ And better question—what the hell are you doing here?”

“Wesley invited me. He said book-signings made you nervous.”

“Book-signings make him more nervous than they make me. They just annoy me. You sit there like some queen on a dais with all of seven people out there and four of them are related to you.”

“Well, there’s eight people counting me,” Zach said. “If you hate signings then why are you doing one at such a large bookshop?”

“Because Lex asked me and I couldn’t say no.” Nora sighed. “Saying no has never been my strongest suit.”

“Lex?”

“Bald guy—Lex Luthor. Owns the place. I used to work here so we keep in touch.”

They reached the down escalator and Zach noticed a man with shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a ponytail standing at the railing and staring at Nora. He wore a Victorian-cut gray suit and riding boots and next to him stood the most exotically beautiful black woman he’d ever seen in his life. The man said something in French to the woman and the woman smiled. The man leaned against the railing and winked at Nora. Nora stepped onto the escalator, looked calmly up at the man, raised her hand and flipped him off. The man’s stunning companion only laughed.