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Chapter 35

SOMETIME LATER HE LOUNGED AGAINST THE RAILING OF Sierra's little balcony, letting the psi-rich night envelop him. Elvis sat beside him, clutching his miniature guitar in one paw. The fog was the heaviest it had been all month.

When he looked over the edge of the railing, he could see the green glow of the sign above Simon Lugg's tavern, but it was impossible to make out the words Green Gate. He could hear people coming and going from the establishment, but they were no more than faint shadows in the mist.

He looked at the delicate crystal glass in his hand. It was half-filled with Amber Dew, a rare and very pricey after-dinner liqueur. Like the expensive wine, he had brought it along tonight to help celebrate the day's victory. He had planned to share the triumph with Sierra.

That was why he had not taken her out to dinner. He had wanted to be alone with her.

He had not wanted to talk about Burns & Co.

"All in all," he said to Elvis, "the plan did not go well."

Elvis made a little rumbling noise in what sounded like a commiserating tone.

"There was a plan?" Sierra said from the doorway.

He turned his head to look at her. "I'm a Guild boss. There's always a plan."

She smiled in the shadows and walked toward him. He opened his senses, unable to resist the unique, enthralling aura of feminine mystery. The sweet, hot, exciting energy aroused everything inside him, just as it had the first time she had entered his office. But the pull, the sensation of a psychic link between them, was so much stronger now than it had been that first day. He sensed that the bond was only going to grow more powerful with time. The part of him that comprehended the nuances of strategy and risk-taking was waving a red flag of warning. He had two options: cut his losses fast or stick around and hope that Sierra felt at least some of what he was feeling.

No doubt about it. The smart move would be to bail while the bailing was good. But sometimes you ignored the odds.

"What was the plan?" she asked, coming to a halt at the railing.

"I wanted to talk about some things tonight," he said. "Things that had nothing to do with Burns & Co."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I realize my timing was bad. It's just that your brother seemed so anxious, and the whole situation sounded very urgent."

"I'd rather you didn't refer to Nick as my brother."

Her eyes widened. "But he is your brother."

"Technically speaking, he's my half brother. Believe me, on the rare occasions when we think of each other, it is strictly in technical terms."

She searched his face. "You have no sense of a family connection with him?"

"Why would I? I've only met him and the others twice. Once at my father's funeral and once in the lawyer's office afterward."

"I see." She turned away to look down at the Green Gate. "Well, I've said my piece. I promise you I won't mention Nick or Burns & Co. again."

She sounded truly chagrined. It was her determination to abide by the vow that made him smile.

"Right," he said.

"What's so funny?"

"The thought of you trying to keep silent about Nick and the business."

She raised her chin. "You don't think I can do it?"

"No. Sooner or later you'll bring up both subjects again."

Her brows snapped together above the dark frames of her glasses. "How do you know?"

"Because you won't be able to help yourself." He laughed. "You are what you are."

"And just what is that?"

"Goal-oriented, just like me. Just like the others in your family. You can't rest until you've achieved your objective and, at the moment, your objective is to convince me to save Burns & Co. For my own good, of course. Your fancy, high-grade intuition is probably telling you that I'll get some of what the para-shrinks like to call closure out of the whole thing."

Her mouth opened, shut, and opened again.

"What are you talking about?" she finally managed. "I'm not like you or anyone else in my family. I'm a walking definition of the word underachieves Just ask anyone."

"I don't have to ask around." He rested both elbows on the railing. "You're the living, breathing definition of achiever. The only difference between you and the rest of us is your goals." He held up one hand to silence her. "And before you start arguing with me, remember that I'm where I am today because I'm damn good at figuring out what people want."

She folded her arms and bristled. There was no other word for it.

"What do you think I want?" she asked.

"To make the world a better place. Justice for those who can't get it for themselves. Help for people like Jake Tanner and the other hunters who disappeared. In short, you're a classic do-gooder."

"And you think do-gooders are naive, gullible, unrealistic, and downright pesky."

"I didn't say that." He paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. "Although, now that you mention it—"

"If you feel that way about me, I'm surprised you didn't file for immediate termination of our marriage this afternoon when you came out of Patterson's office. In fact, why are you even here in my apartment tonight?"

"I haven't made any move to terminate our MC because I like being married to you."

She blinked. "You do?"

"I'm hoping that the reason you didn't rush out to file for divorce yourself today is because you aren't one hundred percent opposed to the idea of being married to me."

"No." She swallowed. "No, I'm not opposed to the idea."

"Okay, that settles that. We're staying married for a while."

"In spite of the fact that I may not be able to resist urging you to try to rescue Burns & Co.?"

"In spite of that."

"Gee, Fontana, I don't know what to say. This is all so romantic. You're really sweeping me off my feet here."

"No rule says a Guild boss can't be romantic."

"My comment was intended to be taken as thinly veiled sarcasm."

He pulled her into his arms. "I'll give you a little tip."

"Yes?"

"When you use sarcasm with a Guild chief, you have to unveil it."

She smiled. "I'll remember that next time."

He kissed her before she could say another word. Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting under his. After a moment he picked her up and carried her indoors and down the hall to the shadowy bedroom.

It wasn't a full and complete victory, he thought, more like a strategic move in a delicately balanced game of chess. But it would do for now.