Wandering Soul (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

This was perhaps the happiest that Dante had ever been in his life. It was not just that he had a home, but that he had people who counted on him. He felt a sense of belonging he had not experienced since his mother passed away.

Winston was sleeping comfortably after sharing a dinner with Dante and Elsa. Dante had convinced her to relax and indulge in a bath while he watched over Winston. After rinsing the last dish, Dante set it in the rack to dry. He pulled the plug free and watched the soapy water swirl down the drain, thinking of Elsa in her bath.

The image of her in the large tub in her bathroom sparked a heady warmth in Dante's chest, dropping quickly to lower parts of his body. They had spent the entire day together and she never once stared at him or seemed uncomfortable.

Drying his hands, he walked to the table and picked up his new mask. He had not touched it since Garrett had left.

Even though he'd directed considerable anger and suspicion toward Dante, Garrett had still made this thoughtful gesture. Dante would work to earn Garrett's trust. He truly hoped they would become friends.

Garrett was as nonplussed by Dante's appearance as Elsa. Perhaps no one would have the visceral reactions as those in his time. It seemed impossible.

As impossible as time travel. Dante chuckled.

The bell sounded, and he set down his mask, heading for the front door. Garrett must have arrived to check on Winston. This would be Dante's first chance to regain some of the lost camaraderie he had shared with Garrett on that first night. Showing him that Winston and Elsa were both well would be a good start.

Opening the door, Dante smiled and began a greeting. The words died in his throat as he saw that it was not Garrett who had come calling.

A slender Asian woman stood before him. Her smile vanished when she saw Dante's face. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, emitting a brief shriek.

Dante backed away from the door, covering his scars with one hand. He began apologizing, not even certain what words he was using, and raced toward the kitchen.

What had he been thinking? Opening the door without knowing who it was or how they would react. Of course people would still be shocked by his appearance. He pulled his new mask into place. It fit snugly with straps that stretched to conform to the dimensions of his head.

Though it was more comfortable than his previous mask, he was already becoming accustomed to going without. He had never realized how wearing a mask chafed the raised flesh of his scars, or how stifling it was to have half his face covered.

“It's rude to leave visitors alone in your foyer, you know.”

Dante jumped at the woman's voice. He turned to find her standing in the center of the kitchen, hands on her hips, one of which was cocked to the side in a cavalier manner.

She wore black leather pants that hugged her legs like a second skin, with boots that rose to her knees. Her thin white shirt dipped down at the neck in a V and fit her thin frame perfectly. Thick black hair trailed down her back and hung about her face in windswept layers. One dark brow was arched at him, and she was frowning.

“I beg your pardon, madam.” He tried to maintain as much of a dignified manner as he could. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“You're lucky I didn't use my pepper spray on you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I heard about the break in. Don't worry. I locked the door behind me.”

She walked to the sink and took one of the glasses Dante had just washed, filled it with water and took a long drink before turning around again. Her gaze was scrutinizing until a broad smile brightened her face.

“You're the Phantom that Rachel talked about! The actor Elsa hired to help with her book.”

“I am Dante Lucerne.”

He was eager to separate himself from the character, especially if he was to become part of Elsa's life. She seemed focused on enabling him to move on, but even with a new world to explore, he found he could not bear the thought of leaving her.

“Good name.” The woman looked Dante up and down as if she was assessing every part of him.

Her gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest for long enough that a blush swept over his face. The woman, oblivious to his discomfort, began a slow circuit around him. She stopped when they were facing once more.

“You are amazing. The mask is all wrong, though. Way too modern.”

“It serves its purpose. Had I been wearing it when I answered the door, perhaps you would not have been so surprised.” He didn't bother to hide the ire in his tone. He was only grateful that Winston and Elsa had not seemed to hear the disturbance.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't know who you were and someone just broke in.”

“Indeed. But was that truly the only origin of your outburst?”

The woman did not seem offended by Dante's bluntness. Her smile turned to a wry smirk.

“Is it makeup?”

“No.”

“You're the real thing, then.”

Dante did not bother to respond. He held her gaze as she boldly stared at him, her eyes calculating. He wondered if her mind ever stopped turning behind the deep sepia of her irises.

“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, I was startled when I saw you. Your face is unusual and I wasn't expecting it. Deal with it. Let's move on.”

“I beg your pardon?” He was quite taken aback. He had never heard anyone speak of his disfigurement with such nonchalance.

“Back to begging?” She crossed her arms and smirked.

“Who are you?” Each word came out as a gasp, exasperation winning out over his manners.

“I'm Jazz.” She smiled brightly as she held out her hand. Dante took it, bowing curtly and pressing a quick kiss on the backs of her fingers. She arched an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are the real thing.”

Perhaps that social custom had changed over the decades. He dropped her hand as he stood, then stepped away from her.

This was Elsa's oldest and dearest friend. He should try to make a good impression, but he was finding her quite overwhelming. Continuing in that vein, she grabbed his wrist with an alarming speed. Closing the space he had created between them, she pulled his arm closer to her face for further scrutiny.

An insect under a microscope might feel similarly exposed while being examined. She ran her finger over paint stains on his sleeve, pale greens and blues from his latest landscape. He had meant to change shirts, but had been too busy enjoying Elsa's company.

“You're a painter,” Jazz said.

“Yes. Though I do not know what business that is of yours.” He wrested his arm from her grasp as politely as he could.

“It is exactly my business.” Her gaze turned almost hungry. She pulled a small card from her back pocket and handed it to him. It read
Jazz Gallery—Cutting Edge Art for the New Millennium.

“Yes, you own a gallery.” He had been so flustered, that fact had slipped his mind.

“This is just too good. You have to let me sell you.”

“I assure you, I am not for sale.”

“All you artists.” Jazz waved her arms at him and made tching noises as she shook her head. “You're so concerned with not selling out. I'm concerned with putting food on your table. Let me represent you and I promise you will become one of the most famous artists of the decade. Not to mention all the money you'll rake in. After my cut, of course.”

“You have not even seen any of my work.”

“I don't need to see your work. I don't sell art, I sell artists. And the biggest draw for an artist is mystique.” She made a point of looking him up and down. “Believe me, you have that covered. This whole Phantom persona is epic. Brilliant marketing. Your paintings could be stick figures and I'd still be able to sell them.”

With a revenue stream of his own, Dante would not be reliant on Elsa for things such as a modern wardrobe. She was always so pained when she spoke of helping him to establish himself. With Jazz's help, perhaps he could do so without Elsa's involvement.

The idea was very appealing. He stared at the business card in his hand.

“Don't tell Elsa.” He spoke before the thought had even fully formed.

“Why?”

Dante smiled, excitement brewing within him. “I would rather surprise her.”

“I like the way you think.” Jazz returned his smile.

If only she knew the maelstrom of thoughts circulating through his mind. Beyond his plans for what to do should he be able to support himself, he was beginning to wonder just how much of a hindrance his appearance would, or rather, would not be in this time.

Rachel had complimented how he looked. She had not seen all of his face, of course, but it was still encouraging. Jazz had seen his face, and yet the way she stared at Dante was enough to make him blush.

And then there was Elsa, with her shy looks and soft touches. A thrill passed over his skin, the mere thought of her hands on him causing gooseflesh to spread over his arms.

If he could come to her as an independent man, if he had more to offer her, perhaps the misgivings that always seemed to creep into her gaze would vanish.

Jazz walked to the counter and started to wash the glass she had used. “Now that we have that out of the way, how is Winston? I heard he fell.”

“Garrett predicts a full recovery. Winston is sleeping at the moment.”

“It is kind of late. I had to wait until I finished up at the gallery before I could stop by.”

“Your circle of friends seems to be quite closely knit. I am amazed how quickly news has spread.”

Jazz shrugged. “I had lunch with Garrett today. He's one of my best customers and a good friend. I introduced him to Elsa, in fact.”

“Another of your dates?” Dante did not mean to say it so harshly, but Elsa had explained that Michael was the man Jazz had attempted to set Elsa up with. Garrett, Dante could understand. Michael had been a woeful error in judgment.

“What can I say? I'm a sucker for the romantic.” Jazz set aside the glass and dried her hands. “But don't worry, no more blind dates from me. I can see Elsa's off the market.”

“I beg—” He cleared his throat as he decided on a different turn of phrase. “Excuse me?”

If Jazz really thought that Elsa would consider having a romantic relationship with Dante, even after seeing him without his mask… He thought back to his earlier interlude with Elsa in her bedroom, when he'd been overcome with the urge to kiss her. If Winston's fall had not interrupted them, Dante now wondered what would have happened. She had not looked like she was going to pull away.

“Come on. Aside from Winston, Elsa has lived with exactly two other people in her life. Me and you. And the only reason she lived with me was out of financial necessity. The way she doesn't talk about it, I don't even think she ever lived with her family. I swear that woman stepped into this world fully formed.”

“You put too much upon her, viewing her in such a manner.” He did have to admit that Elsa was the most independent woman he had ever met. And though she spoke freely of his family, she had yet to mention her own.

Jazz shrugged. “All I'm saying is, I've known Elsa longer than anyone and you are the first person other than Winston that she has chosen to live with of her own free will.” She leaned in very close. “I will expect an invitation to the wedding.”

“Elsa and I are simply friends.” Or were they? The excitement growing within him surged through his body, his soul practically thrumming with delight.

“I have a feeling there's nothing simple about this relationship. Anyway, I won't intrude. Please give Winston my regards.”

“You do not wish to wait for Elsa?”

Jazz grinned. “I'll leave you lovebirds alone.”

“As I said, our relationship is—”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

Dante followed Jazz to the front door. She turned to face him once more before leaving.

“It was nice meeting you, Dante. I look forward to doing business with you and getting to know you better.”

“And I, you, madam.”

“Don't call me madam. It's Jazz.”

“Of course. Jazz.”

“That's better.”

And then she was gone, leaving him alone in the foyer, not quite sure what to do with himself. He locked the door and headed to his room, taking the stairs slowly as he thought over what had just occurred.

He had a potential source of income, and Jazz believed that he had a chance at a romantic relationship with Elsa. It was all quite exhilarating.

Of course, working with Jazz meant the issue of his lack of identity might come up sooner rather than later. Dante felt it was best to deal with the matter right away. Perhaps she would have some contacts who could help him. He would need to acquire funds to assist with his new beginning, but the only thing he had of worth was his mother's ring.

He smiled, knowing exactly what his mother would say on that point. He would call Jazz first thing in the morning while Elsa was tending to Winston, and set up a meeting. That in itself would be a bit difficult, however. He and Elsa were seldom apart.

The realization stopped him in his tracks. Since Dante had arrived, they had spent almost every waking moment together, as well as several nights. He thought back to Jazz's comments about the nature of his relationship with Elsa, and he found he wasn't sure what it truly was.

He happened to have paused just outside the door to Elsa's bedroom. She had left it open a crack. He ran his fingertips lightly down the wood, enjoying the coolness of its surface. Taking it as a good sign, Dante retired to his room to prepare for an evening relaxing in her company.

Chapter Sixteen

Even after her bath, Elsa couldn't relax. She sat at the kitchen table drinking yet another cup of chamomile tea, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. The thought that someone had been in her house was beyond unsettling. She was still hoping that they were wrong, that there was some other explanation.

Maybe they had left the door to the cabinet open themselves. Maybe Leonardo had knocked Dante's mask onto the floor and it bounced under the bed somewhere. Maybe the key had caught on Winston's shirtsleeve as he locked up the night before and it'd fallen to the floor.

None of those scenarios seemed likely. Elsa insisted that everything was just so. She had to admit it wasn't only because she was watching out for Winston. Her friends thought of her as a control freak, and they were right. They just didn't know how much of her life she had felt completely out of control.

She'd crawled under her bed with a flashlight and searched everywhere for Dante's mask with no luck. Winston might be blind, but he had a keen sense of hearing. If he had been in the room when the key hit the floor, he would have heard it.

Elsa couldn't rationalize any of the occurrences away. The most likely explanation was that someone had been in the house the night before, someone who had picked through her things and watched Dante and Elsa as they slept.

Another shudder swept over her body. Elsa held the hot mug closer to her chest. The warmth did little to comfort her, but at least she could distract herself a bit. She focused on the sensation of the steam as it floated around her face, calming herself as she breathed in its earthy scent.

Someone knocked at the kitchen door. She jumped, spilling the tea on her chest. Luckily, she was wearing a baggy T-shirt, and leaned forward quickly enough to avoid being burned.

Garrett was standing outside, rattling the handle. She could see the concern etched in his features through the door's window. Elsa trotted over to let him in.

“Are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you.”

“I'm fine.” Elsa stepped aside as Garrett entered the kitchen, closing and locking the door behind him. “It was my fault I jumped. I was distracted.”

Garrett stared at Elsa's chest, where her T-shirt had plastered itself against her breasts. She pulled the fabric away. The tea on her front was quickly becoming cold, which was just making the situation more embarrassing.

“Sorry.” Garrett looked away.

“It's okay. I'll change later.”

“How's Winston doing?”

“Grumpy. He says he wants to get up, but I saw him going back to bed from the bathroom and he was walking stiffly.”

“That's to be expected. I'm sure he'll shake this off after a couple days of rest. And moving around a bit will be good for him.”

“Well, don't worry about us starving. It turns out Dante is a great cook.” Which was a good thing, because when he let Elsa make the toast that morning she managed to burn half of it. As in, all of the toast was burned on one side.

“About Dante…” Garrett's mouth was still open, but no words came out.

“What about Dante?”

“I know he's the reason you didn't want to call the police.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Listen, this guy isn't who he says he is.”

Garrett made his statement with entirely too much conviction. Elsa's cheeks began to tingle, the blood draining from her head and making her dizzy.

“What did you do?”

“My friend Finn is a private investigator. I gave him a call and asked him to do some digging.”

“You did what?” Elsa's sense of foreboding blossomed into a full panic attack. Her heart threw itself against her ribs, seeking to flee, while her body felt leaden and rooted to the ground.

What kind of digging? What had he found?

Memories churned through her mind.
“Abomination! Which of my sins was so bad that I was burdened with
you
?”

She shoved the pain away. She had to stay focused. Damage control. Assess the threat to herself and Dante.

“How could I not?” Garrett said. “You refused to go to the police after someone broke into your house, and you're shacking up with a guy who is lying to you.”

“Dante has never lied to me. Ever.”

“Are you sure about that? Because my friend says there is no record of a Dante Lucerne entering the country. In fact, the only Londoner he could find by that name died back in 1881.”

“I can't believe you went behind my back and did this.”

“What did you expect me to do?”

Rage overwhelmed her fear. “Respect my wishes? Not invade my privacy?”

“I thought you were in danger. I still think so. This guy is conning you. He's playing on your sympathies—”

“Stop. Just, stop.” Elsa took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. “If you ever, ever, disparage him like that to me again, you will no longer be welcome in my home. Do you understand me?”

Garrett's mouth went slack, his shoulders slumping. She regretted hurting him, but she couldn't stand by and let Garrett say such things. Especially when Dante was keeping silent to protect her.

Snapping his mouth shut in a frown, Garrett glared at her. Deep furrows formed on his forehead, and she could practically hear his teeth grinding together.

“Yeah, I get it.”

Elsa heard a soft voice behind them say, “Am I intruding?”

She turned around to see Dante standing in the hall just outside the kitchen. His eyes were wide and he looked about as stunned as Garrett had a moment before.

“No,” Garrett said. “As Winston's doctor, I'm here to check on him.”

As angry as she was, Elsa still felt her heart constrict watching Garrett leave the room. He was one of her best friends. She didn't want to lose him over this, but she couldn't think of a way to make him understand without telling him everything.

For a moment, she considered doing just that, but immediately dismissed the idea. Garrett had gone behind her back. He might have been doing what he thought was best, but she had made herself clear and he hadn't respected that. At least he had gone to a private investigator and not the police.

Dante was counting on her. She had to protect him.

Elsa grabbed her mug and stalked to the sink to wash it. Her shirt was still cold and wet, thanks to Garrett as well. Why couldn't he have left it alone?

Dante crossed the room to stand next to her. He spoke in a low voice. “I do not mean to cause rifts between you and your friends.”

“You didn't cause this problem. Garrett not respecting my wishes caused this.”

She managed to slam her hand against the side of the sink, hitting her thumb just right to make her yelp. She set the mug down a bit more forcefully than was probably wise, shaking her hand to make her thumb stop stinging.

“Did you injure yourself?” Dante reached for Elsa's hand, but she clutched it against her chest.

“It's nothing.”

“You must learn to let others help you.”

Right, because that had worked out so well for her in the past. Elsa bit her lower lip to keep the sarcastic comment from spilling out. She did let him take her hand and put it under the tap.

Her anger dissipated as he rinsed the soap from her hands, his fingers gliding over her skin. Tingles of pleasure raced up her arms at his gentle touch. Dante turned off the water and held her injured hand close to his chest. He ran his fingertips lightly over her thumb. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not really.” Elsa's voice came out a squeak. He stared into her eyes, still lightly caressing her hand with his. She cleared her throat and said, “Thank you.”

Dante brought her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on her thumb. “You are most welcome.”

His gaze slid to her lips and he leaned closer, his head bending toward hers. Elsa could feel the heat of his body, as if their skin was already touching. He was going to kiss her—she was sure of it. And suddenly, she couldn't remember any of the reasons she had to stop him.

“Winston is fine, in case you're wondering.” Garrett stood in the doorway. His harsh voice scattered the clouds in Elsa's mind.

She couldn't believe she had let that moment go so far. That she and Dante had almost kissed. And here was Garrett, angry because he thought that Dante was trying to take advantage of her. If only Garrett knew the truth.

Dante looked momentarily abashed. “That is welcome news.”

“I bet.” Garrett scowled at Dante, but didn't even look at Elsa.

She grabbed Garrett's arm as he passed her. “I appreciate you coming to check on Winston.”

“It's the least I can do for a friend.”

“I know you're only trying to help, and I appreciate that too,” she said. “But on the other matter, can you please trust me that I know what I'm doing?”

Garrett shook his head and let out a sharp, low laugh. “Funny. You're so good at asking for trust, but do you ever look at how much you give out? It's a two-way street.”

“Garrett, I—”

He didn't let her finish. “I'll call my guy off. Don't worry about it.”

How could she not worry? He was asking her to trust him, and she wasn't sure she knew how. His harsh accusation rattled like chains in her mind. But another voice broke into her thoughts. Dante's voice, their conversation from earlier in the day playing through her mind.

“You are surrounded by people who care for you.”

“If people knew what I could do, they would hunt me down and dissect me
.
”

“Even Garrett? Even Winston?”

Would they really hurt her? Elsa's mother had been a drunk and a religious fanatic. Winston and Garrett cared for Elsa. They had proven how they felt time and again. But was she brave enough to trust them, too? Like she was learning to trust Dante?

Garrett had only spoken with a private investigator. A friend. He could handle telling the guy to back off. Maybe if she could try to trust Garrett on this one thing, she could mend a little of what had been damaged between them.

“Okay.” She loosened her grip on Garrett's arm.

Garrett lingered as if he was waiting for her to say more. He probably expected a long litany of instructions. But she was going to trust him to take care of this, even though it felt sort of like stepping off a cliff.

“Well, all right then.”

Garrett's eyebrows scrunched together and he cocked his head to one side as if he was trying to puzzle out what was going on. He hesitantly leaned in to hug her. Elsa stood on her toes to hug him back, which pushed her cold clothing against her skin.

When he let her go, his signature smile was back in place. “Dante, make sure she changes into something dry before she catches a cold. Winston is enough of a handful. I don't think we can stand tending to them both.”

The tightness around her heart vanished at Garrett's words. She hadn't lost him. More than that, he had included Dante, as if the two of them were a team. Elsa didn't miss the way Dante's expression relaxed.

“I shall make that the next order of business,” Dante said.

“I'm sure.” Garrett's smile turned a bit wry, but that seemed to be the end of it.

After Garrett left, Dante locked the door. He put the key on the shelf nearest the door instead of leaving it in the lock. “You should change your shirt.”

“I'll just check on Winston first. I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight. I want to be close enough to hear him if he needs anything.”

“Garrett was right.” Dante grabbed the edge of his shirt, then pulled it over his head and held it out to her. “If you will not take the time to go upstairs and change, at least put this on instead.”

Elsa might have if she was able to move, but she was paralyzed at the site of Dante half-naked in her kitchen. The dark hair that lightly covered his chest contrasted against his pale skin, accentuating the broad planes of his muscles and flowing like a waterfall down his flawless stomach. It disappeared beneath the waistband of his pajama pants.

Fireworks exploded through her. Her arms tingled, as if begging her to reach for him. She could barely breathe. The air passing over her parted lips felt like a caress. She longed to touch his chest, to trail kisses along his stomach, to explore every inch of his body…

“Are you all right?”

He took a step toward her, jolting her back to reality. She kept her eyes locked on his, only his eyes, and tried to block out everything she was seeing in her periphery.

“I'm fine, thanks.”

She reached for his shirt, but since she wasn't looking, she wound up brushing her hand against his. The physical contact was like touching a live wire. She still managed to grab his shirt and started to pull it over her head.

“Elsa…” Dante stepped closer and grasped her arms to stop her. He was so warm. “You should take off your own shirt first.”

She peered at him through the open neck of his shirt, her arms still held above her head. “You want me to…”

A flush spread across his neck and chest, creeping over his face as well.

Elsa would not let this happen. Not until he had met other women, spent time with them, and realized that he had options besides her. If she gave in now, she'd never be sure that he would have chosen her.

She lowered his shirt and backed away from him, forcing a smile. “Of course. I'll change in the laundry room.”

She fled from his presence as quickly as she could, heart beating like a frightened rabbit thumping out a warning. The laundry room was just off the kitchen. Elsa closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she brought herself back under control.

This was going to be harder than she thought. Dante was kind, intelligent and beautiful. She loved spending time with him. She was already attracted to him, and that was before what she had just seen. Elsa had never wanted anyone so intensely.