Part 24 (1/2)

”I just want a bite.”

”n.o.body can eat just one bite of cotton candy.”

”I can, try me.”

”This is against my better judgment,” he says a few moments later as he hands me one of the cones.

Close up, it's a little daunting. I'm not quite sure where to begin.

”Try pinching a piece off with your fingers,” Hayden suggests.

I do and pop it into my mouth where it begins to melt in a slow motion explosion of sugary heaven. Never mind that my molars hurt, this stuff is incredible. I close my eyes, the better to savor it.

When I open them again, I'm staring at a powerful torso in a charcoal gray custom suit standing directly in front of me. Raising my eyes, I encounter a clenched jaw darkened by a day or two of stubble. Higher than that I hesitate to go.

”Hi, Ian,” Hayden says pleasantly. ”Nice day for the zoo.”

”Hayden,” Ian acknowledges. ”What's going on?” He sounds all too calm.

”Just giving Amelia her first taste of cotton candy.” He smirks. ”Along with a few other firsts. What's going on with you?”

”Funny you should ask.” Ian takes the cone from me and tosses it into a nearby waste can. ”I'm here to take Amelia home.”

The musical clock nearby suddenly begins to chime. At its base, statues of a goat, kangaroo, penguin, and bear chase each other around in a circle while playing musical instruments. The tune they are belting out is ”Row, row, row your boat.”

We've gotten to the part where life is but a dream when Ian holds out his hand to me.

Without allowing myself to think, I take it.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Amelia A large black vehicle that looks more suited to the streets of a city under siege than to the privileged enclave of Manhattan is at the curb just beyond the entrance to the zoo. A big man in a dark suit steps out and opens the pa.s.senger side door for us.

Ian hands me into the surprisingly luxurious interior and follows quickly. As soon as we're settled, the vehicle moves into traffic.

As it does, I push down the fears generated by memories of the last time we were in a backseat together and succ.u.mb to the temptation to look at him. Seen in profile, his square jaw, the straight blade of his nose, and the sensuous fullness of his lips remind me of cla.s.sical Greek statues. Except Ian isn't made of cold marble. He's flesh and blood, warm and alive.

I long to touch him--with my hands, my mouth, with all of me, body and soul. The need is all but overwhelming, the distance of mere inches between us scarcely endurable.

But he's so closed off from me, his thoughts so impenetrable, that I can't help but feel resentful. Does he have any idea how miserable I've been the past few days? Does he care?

Rather than expose how vulnerable I feel, I take refuge in the old adage that the best defense is a good offense.

”Is this really necessary?” I ask, indicating the vehicle. ”You know I live only a few blocks from here.”

”We're not going there,” he says, barely glancing at me. ”I'm taking you to Pinnacle House.”

I stare at him in confusion. Ian and I certainly have problems but I've never known him to deliberately lie to me. ”You said you were taking me home.”

”My home,” he corrects. ”Pinnacle House is the headquarters of Slade Enterprises. I have an apartment there.”

Distantly, I remember him mentioning that when we were at the palazzo. But I'm far more focused on his a.s.sumption that he can suddenly reappear in my life after what happened between us and take me off wherever he chooses. If he's trying to upset me further, he's succeeding.

I am about to tell him as much when he suddenly asks, ”How do you know Hayden?”

The question takes me by surprise. With a shrug, I say, ”We were both at the zoo and we recognized each other from the game.”

This explanation doesn't appear to satisfy him. He scowls. ”Don't you know better than to take candy from strangers?”

Seriously? After the miserable days and nights that he's put me through, he's upset that Hayden and I were having fun together? I try to remember if Ian and I ever shared such a simple, uncomplicated moment and realize that we have not. For better or worse, our time together has been fraught.

Still, that's no excuse for his behavior. Without making any effort to conceal my anger, I say, ”I shouldn't take rides from them either. Let me out.”

From of the corner of my eye, I see his widen in the instant before his tantalizing mouth sets in a hard line. Clearly, the idea that we don't really know each other doesn't sit well with him.

”Don't test me, Amelia. Not now.”

In the confines of the backseat, my awareness of him is physically painful. I can scarcely breathe but every time I do my body's instinctive response to his presence grows. Heartbeat to heartbeat, I am being drawn back to him. At the same time, I cannot make sense of why I am there or why he is.

Abruptly, it dawns on me that there is one obvious reason why he would suddenly reappear in my life after making it more than obvious that he intended to keep his distance. Something has happened.

With calm I am very far from feeling, I ask, ”Is this because of Davos?”

He shoots me a look and for an instant the mask of imperturbable control slips. The depth of emotion revealed behind it is so stunning that I can't help but gasp. What could possibly provoke such barely contained rage, fierce pa.s.sion, and something that looks startlingly like...dread?

No hint of any of that is in his voice when he says, ”The Inst.i.tute where you were imprinted was blown up this morning. A terrorist organization called the Human Preservation Front is claiming responsibility. They've released a manifesto declaring an all-out war on replicas.”

A wave of shock hits me, followed quickly by nausea. For a horrible moment, I'm afraid that I'm going to be sick. All that d.a.m.n candy! I take a shallow breath, followed by another, and fight for control.

”Are you all right?” Ian asks.

He turns in his seat so that we are face to face. The mask has slipped again and I see the full extent of his concern--so real and intense that my eyes suddenly burn. I can't reconcile that with his withdrawal from me. I'm too confused to even try.

Quickly, I say, ”I'm fine. It's just that I read a little about them on the link. They seemed too crazy to be real. All that talk of conspiracies, slave armies...” I wave a hand faintly. ”They're actually serious?”

”It appears so,” he says grimly. ”I have people on the scene now. We'll know more soon. But in the meantime, Pinnacle House is the safest place for you to be.”

Is it? Whatever the reason behind his withdrawal, it has made me realize how easily he can devastate my emotions. I don't think he has any understanding of how he makes me feel. He doesn't even realize that he should have told me what was happening without my having to drag it out of him.

I swallow against the lump in my throat. ”Edward and Adele will be worried when I don't come home.”

”I talked to Edward,” Ian says quickly. ”We're in complete agreement about this. He'll explain it to your grandmother.”

The thought of violent extremists such as the HPF coming after me is bad enough but what if those I care about were caught up in any such attack? I could never survive the grief and guilt. But--oh, G.o.d!--what about Ian? Doesn't he understand the danger he is in by being near me?

The thought of him putting himself at such risk makes me feel as though I'm standing on the edge of an abyss, staring down into my own worst nightmare. I can't bear it.