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"Are you afraid of a game, Josh?" Marcus asked.
"Yes, goddamnit," Josh slammed the glass down and the fragile stem of the expensive crystal broke against the etched glass of Lisette's side table, spilling the last swallow of red liquid across its surface. "It's fucking games that. . . Hell," he pointed a finger at Lauren, "That's probably what brought her running here. If people played a few less fucking games, maybe it wouldn't be such a screwed-up world. Maybe people could just love each other and not frigging wonder if it was all some goddamned cruel trick. They wouldn't begin to believe that when they die, rather than an afterlife, it will be one single moment of getting the big cosmic joke, that nothing meant shit, ever, and then bam! You're fucking dust. "
Lauren registered the tears in his eyes a stunned moment before he spun away from them both, the habitual male defense to keep uncontained emotions screened from view. Her attention snapped to Marcus.
The art dealer's expression was filled with pain. She recognized what it was, because a physician was trained to mask that type of pain.
He was trying to heal Josh, without any roadmap of how to do it. There rarely was one. A physician was given a certain amount of knowledge to get started in the right direction, but when it came down to it, there were too many factors that could contribute to an illness. Sometimes the physician just had to follow intuition, hoping to ask the right question, get the response that would reveal the cure. Though Marcus had flinched, as she had, at the violence of Josh's reaction, there was no shock in his pained gaze. He knew more than she did about the simmering cauldron of emotions trapped behind those stormy gray eyes.
She had come here to hide for awhile, yes, and to face her demons. She had been in a situation that was utterly mortifying. She had been too paralyzed to act, from fear of a rejection that was already there, hammering at her defenses every day. However, something about Josh's bowed head, pressed against the glass of the sliding glass door now, moved her heart beyond those worries. She knew she had the tools to get over her heartbreak. Perhaps Josh didn't. He might need the help of comrades-in-arms to save his universe.
She reached out, laidthe dinner napkin over the broken glass to soak up the wine, then shifted her hand left and drew a card. Marcus lifted a surprised glance to her.
"A six of diamonds," she held it up for Marcus's inspection. "Josh," she pulled another card from the deck, "has drawn a five of spades. "
Marcus studied her face a moment, then leaned forward and drew off the other side. "A two of hearts.
The lady wins. "
"So what does that mean?" Lauren asked, feeling Josh turn toward her.
"The rules say you may ask anything of us, Lauren," Marcus's eyes met hers, steady, "and we will obey. "
A Master knew another Master, and knew what words would cause the knees to go weak, and a rush of liquid arousal between the thighs. Lauren drew in a breath.
A part of her was tight like a clenched fist, remembering the past, and how those games had turned out.
Another part of her was curious, hoping for something. Hoping that even a modicum of what Marcus said might be true, that maybe strangers could succeed in achieving intimacy, in the right environment, where lovers had failed.
"Josh?"
He gave her a wary look, but she detected a strange element of hope. She wondered if her expression was an exact mirror of those two emotions. "I'm willing to play if you are. There's just us here, no 911,"
she reminded him, managing a shy smile. "I don't mind believing I'm a kid again if you don't. "
"Who said he ever stopped being one?" Marcus observed. "I've been waiting for him to grow up for years. "
Josh curled his lip at him like an annoyed dog, then returned his gaze to Lauren.
"If Josh wants to play," she looked at him, tense profile silhouetted against the glass, "I'd like. . . "
What would she like? The hundreds of possibilities overwhelmed her for a moment. She had shut off that part of her since she had broken with Jonathan, but her mind had catalogued the ideas and longings her listless yet conscious wanderings through her favorite clubs had suggested. The idea that two men might be at her bidding, particularly one moody, dark and beautiful creature like Josh, brought those possibilities leaping out of the closet. But would he play? The choice was his. She could but ask him to join.
"I want to feed Josh dinner," she decided.
Chapter 6
Josh turned toward her fully, his face reflecting his surprise at the deceptively simple request. She blinked at him, and patted the ottoman. "Come here and sit. Pick up your plate and hand me the fork. "
He cocked his head at her, considering. Marcus was a silent presence in her peripheral vision. Giving Josh time to think was no chore, and she made good use of the moment, sliding her gaze over the bare broad shoulders, the smooth chest, that tantalizing slope of hipbone exposed by the loose fit of the jeans at the waist. She let her gaze go lower, examining with frank interest the way the denim molded his groin and long thighs.
She consumed the visual feast through all her senses, so it was no surprise to feel her breasts tighten, the nipples rise against the silk fabric of the robe, poured like water over her curves from the blessings of gravity. She knew without raising her eyes that his gaze would be drawn to that physical reaction. Unless his personal demons were too strong, her wary prey should almost be hers.
By the time she got to his bare toes, they were moving toward her, and a moment later, he was sitting on the ottoman, lifting the plate and handing her the fork. This close, he brought back the smell of the woods, and his faint musky odor, the same dried sweat of a day's hard labor that she had smelled when he had carried her.
"So," Lauren speared a tiny corncob and lifted it, "I know Marcus is a New York art dealer with a secret dream to be a hairdresser," she smiled as that one raised his glass with a devious grin, his composure recovered. "But what did you do before you were caretaker here, Josh?"
"I helped Marcus," he lifted a shoulder, and she knew he was being evasive from the quick flick of his gaze away from hers. It was not yet time to push, too early in the game. She raised a brow regardless, letting him know he was not fooling her, but she changed the flow of the conversation. "Marcus, tell us the most wicked story you can think of from your childhood. "
