6
If the damn book weren’t so valuable, Jack would have tossed it out the window months ago. But the Compendium of Srem was one of a kind and priceless.
And frustrating. Because all its pages were out of order. He’d been searching for references to the Lilitongue of Gefreda and had come across another of the so-called “Infernals”—an odd-shaped contraption called “the Cleaner.” He reached for a bookmark but by the time he turned back, the page had changed.
He slammed the cover shut and shoved it across the round top of the oak table, then rose and stalked around his apartment. Not much stalking room with all the old furniture, so he sat back down and opened the book again.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
He turned to take in the slim blonde standing in the doorway to the bedroom. She wore beige panties and was fastening her bra behind her. He loved her sleek thighs and the swell of her hips.
He added a swagger to his tone. “Well, Miss Gia, I guess I must’ve worn you out.”
“I guess you did. But still . . .”
Sex had been especially hot tonight, and Gia had dozed off afterward, something she rarely did. She was almost back to normal after the hit and run. Her fine motor skills had returned and she was doing commercial art—mostly book covers—full-time and eking out some time for her own paintings. She’d even let Jack see some of her new stuff.
After she finished with the bra she padded over to the wingback chair where she’d left her sundress, a crazy turquoise pattern that did amazing things to her blue eyes. She slipped it over her head and was fully dressed again.
“Well, after being lifted to countless peaks of almost unendurable pleasure that shattered worlds and turned whole universes inside out—”
She laughed. “And turned your prose purple.”
“—and clove the earth beneath you—”
“Clove?”
“Past tense of cleave, right? But anyway, after countless peaks of—”
“I don’t know about countless.”
She stepped closer and slipped into the pair of sandals she’d left by the table.
“You were counting?”
She smiled. “I always count.”
“You do?”
She stood next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. It felt delicious.
“Well, sometimes I lose track.”
He glanced back at the Compendium. “Not like I lose track of these pages.”
“Still shuffling?”
He nodded. “I found something on the Infernals, but before I could dig in . . .” He shrugged.
“I’m glad it wasn’t doing that when we were looking up the Stain.” She caressed his nape, sending tingles down his back. “Still wondering about Tom?”
“Yeah.”
His missing older brother . . . where in the world was he? Jack had a feeling he was gone from this world. Gone for good.
“Me too.” Her fingertips moved to his beard. “I think I’m getting used to this.”
That was good news. She’d hated it at first.
He slipped his hand under her dress and ran his fingers up her silky inner thigh.
“You know . . .”
She stepped away. “It’s late.”
“I could be quick.”
She laughed. “Now there’s an offer.”
“Come on. Or we could just sit and talk. We didn’t get much chance earlier with you in Siestaville.”
Jack still hadn’t told her the truth about the hit and run—that it had been no accident. Maybe tonight . . .
“Wish I could, but I’m trying out Courtney Love as a babysitter and I’m not sure how she’ll work out.”
“Yeah, well, she can’t turn out worse than that Iggy Pop guy.”
“Seriously, I’ve left Vicky with this girl after school a few times and they get along beautifully. This is her first night gig and I don’t want to get on her mother’s bad side by getting her home late.”
He slapped his thighs and rose. “I know when I’m beaten.”
Some other time for the truth.
Yeah, right.
Coward.