Blood of Zeus (Blood of Zeus #1) - Meredith Wild Page 0,69
looks at you. Oh yes, let’s look…”
“No,” Reg snaps. “Let’s not.”
“I don’t understand. Maximus? You and this young woman…are not together?”
I release a pent-up breath through my nose. “I wouldn’t call it ‘together.’” I’d call it connected and captivated and riveted, but probably not together. We were meeting today to try to change that. Now, will Kara even show? If she does, will she even think about opening up to me anymore?
“Well then, let’s not quibble semantics,” Sarah says, brightening again. “Whatever you’re calling it, you’ll invite her over and we’ll chill the bubbly to celebrate!”
“No.” Reg practically barks the repeat. “No celebration. No bubbly either.” After stabbing me with a fast glance, she mumbles, “I think I need something stronger.”
Before Sarah can argue, the bell over the door jingles behind me. The vibrations from the clangs are barely finished on the air when my senses sizzle with even better tremors.
Better. And worse.
“Kara.”
No crisis can ever steal the power of her name on my lips. I treasure its potency for another couple of seconds as she walks over in a long-skirted dress and matching fedora. Her dark hair tumbles loose and free over her shoulders, just like a bigger wave of adoration spills across every inch of my chest.
“Hi,” she greets Reg and Sarah with a sweet smile before turning her gaze, wide and bright, up to me. “Good morning, Mr. Kane.” She makes it a point to enunciate every syllable of her greeting, emphasizing her readiness to see me as more than just her teacher or even her friend.
She scoots up beside me and stands on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my jaw. I’m unable to hold back from clenching it beneath her caress. As much as I relish the intimate brush, it means she hasn’t heard the news. The storm hasn’t slammed her yet.
But it’s about to.
I know it as soon as I clutch her hand, like I’m in quicksand and she’s my salvation of a tree limb. I see it in the new tension bracketing her mouth and the deepened shadows in her eyes. I feel it in the restless shift of her body. She already senses it, like an oncoming storm rushing a defenseless shore.
“Maximus.” There it is, in the unsteady rasp of her voice as well. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I battle for a reassuring smile. It’s gone in less than a second. “Some photos have hit the media,” I state slowly. At first, she’s eerily still. Her clasp on my fingers turns into a vise-grip.
“Photos,” she finally says. “Of us?”
I pull in a long breath, buying myself some seconds to navigate the chaos of my mind, searching for the best words to start with. But fate’s got the last laugh on this one, because seconds are all that remain of our peaceful bubble—popped wide open by a blinding flash from the front door. Then another from the direction of the shop’s service entrance. And a third from a window Reg must have rolled open earlier.
“Sixes and bloody sevens!” Sarah exclaims. “What on—”
“Out!” Reg cuts in with a virulent shout. She marches to the front door, throws it wide, and stabs her arm toward the sidewalk beyond. “This is private property, you leeches. I’m already calling LAPD. You’d better be good and gone before they show up.”
As soon as the photographers are done clamoring over each other to leave, she slams the door with a biting curse.
Her wife looks on with a flushed face and wide stare. “Well, hasn’t this turned into an interesting party.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d be giving Sarah’s droll line at least an appreciative chuckle. But laughter isn’t a blip on my radar right now. The only obsession on my mind is the woman I’ve locked against my chest with a steeled armhold around her waist.
Fortunately, her hat’s brim helps to hide her face, still twisting hard and desperately into the front of my T-shirt. I can feel wetness too. Not a lot of it. Her shoulders are collections of coiled muscles, giving away her effort to hold herself together. So much for the lame assumption that a girl like her would be seasoned at handling an onslaught like this. War zones shouldn’t be a norm for anyone. The mob outside must be two dozen thick by now.
I dip my head in, pressing my mouth against her ear. “I’ve got you,” I soothe with every inch of my spirit, every corner of my heart.