10. Typhon

10

TYPHON

I wanted to lean forward and kiss her, but she was already trembling like I could picture her doing when I removed her clothes, then mine, and rubbed my hardness through the folds of her wet pussy.

Never in my life had I experienced a desire as strong as what I felt for her. Eliza. I loved the name as much as I loved her nervous smile.

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She lowered her gaze. I didn't imagine the way she shuddered; it went straight to my cock that was already straining against my trousers.

"Are you certain your cousin is coming?" I asked.

She nodded once, then pulled her mobile from her bag, holding it so I couldn't see the screen when she swiped it. "He's always late, but, yes, he's still coming."

"I would never keep you waiting." I reached for her hand once more. I had to keep touching her. Every part of me yearned for it.

I remembered seeing her at the Fumoir and immediately regretted not approaching her that night. I'd wasted weeks when I could've been with her, staring into her turquoise eyes as I made love to her.

"What will it be?" I asked, looking at our sketches. Hers looked like art. Mine, not so much.

"Pardon?"

"This," I said, running my finger around the drawing.

"Oh. Right. Sculpture."

I raised a brow. "I would love to see it."

Her cheeks flushed like they had so many times already.

"It will be some time before I complete it. Months, in fact."

I tapped the paper. "This, I will wait for. You, I cannot. In fact, I want you to marry me so I know I'll never have to wait again."

She laughed as if I was joking. I wasn't.

"Here he is now," she said, pulling her hand from mine.

I stood and straightened my trousers. When I looked up, my eyes met those of a man I hated. This could not be her cousin. God could not be so cruel.

His forehead furrowed as he studied me.

"Hello, luv. Forgive me for being tardy." He looked from her to me. "Who is this?" he asked, even though he knew damned well who I was.

"This is Leviticus. Um, sorry, I don't know your last name."

"Marras." I reached across the table to see if he'd shake my hand.

He looked at it as if it were a snake, then down at the drawing and up at me again. "Niven St. Thomas."

We shook, then both turned toward Eliza.

"Shall we?" the man I knew as Saint asked her.

"Um, do you want a drink first?"

He shook his head. "No. Famished. I asked for a table in the dining room on my way in."

She turned to me. "Would you like to join us?"

If I wasn't so mesmerized by her beauty, I might have laughed at the horrified expression on Saint's face. "Perhaps another time."

"I'd like that," she said barely above a whisper.

"Eliza, they're signaling to seat us."

She looked from me to her cousin. "Go ahead, Niv. I'll just be a moment."

He hesitated, but what could he say now? He'd already gone along with me acting as though we were strangers. Could he admit we weren't?

"Very well. Don't be long."

"I won't." She smiled like one would at a child.

"When can I see you again?" I blurted as soon as he was a few paces away.

"Um, I don't know. I'm…"

"Please don't say busy."

She laughed. "Actually, it's the opposite. My schedule is quite…empty."

Was I imagining the heat in her eyes? Was the way she dropped the word intended to be innuendo?

"I should, you know, go."

"Of course." I helped her with her chair. "What about tomorrow?" I asked when she stood.

"I'd like that very much." She leaned down and scribbled her number on the paper, right beneath her drawing. "Bring this with you, if you wouldn't mind. I'd like to keep it."

"So me framing it and hanging it near my bed is out of the question?"

Eliza leaned forward, stunning me when she brushed my lips with hers. "Maybe I can sketch another."

I watched her walk away and met Saint's eyes when she got close. He slowly shook his head.

What else could I do but smile? And I did. Broadly.

While I waited for the barmaid to come around with the ticket, I studied Eliza's drawing. As rough as it was, I knew the finished piece would fit perfectly in my house in Portugal. It was in Algarve and sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was my haven, and already, I could imagine taking Eliza there. Even the two of us living in the house I'd meticulously designed and didn't visit often enough. I'd never invited anyone into my home, male or female.

I was not an impetuous man. Spontaneous had never been a word used to describe me. Yet I knew Eliza and I were meant to be together. She was the person I'd been waiting for my whole life, without my realizing anything—or anyone—was missing.

"Where did Eliza run off to?"

I glanced at the name on her badge. Cora. "She's dining with her cousin," I told her.

"Pity."

I rarely struck up a conversation, but Cora's word choice intrigued me. "Why's that?"

She winked. "I could tell she'd much rather be with you."

"Do you know her well?" I asked.

"Years and years, in fact. Since we were kids. She always had a hard time of it, you know? Thankfully, she had Niven."

As curious as I was, I'd not press Cora for more details. I wanted to hear Eliza's stories from her. Not secondhand.

I paid the ticket, leaving a generous gratuity, then removed the paper Eliza had asked me to bring along when I saw her tomorrow from the table. I wasn't joking when I'd asked if framing it would be out of the question. I really wanted to. However, I'd give it to her because she wanted it and I could never deny her.

As I left the pub, I glanced at the table where she sat with Saint. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled. Her cousin looked over his shoulder and scowled.

I walked the short distance to my flat, wondering if he was confessing our history. Based on her smile, I doubted it. However, his scowl made me think he intended to. I should've come clean immediately, but what would I have said? That her cousin was responsible for the deaths of several fellow agents, including the man I considered my mentor? I could hardly admit I hated a person she appeared fond of. But how close could they be? They were cousins. And from what I'd heard, he was working with Rile DeLéon. Rile.

I reached for my mobile and rang him.

"Typhon! I wondered when I'd hear from you."

"You could've made contact, if only to inform me you'd hired Saint."

He sighed. "The decision to do so wasn't mine alone. He and one of my partners worked an op together, and afterwards, he suggested bringing Saint on board. And before you hear it from another source, he and his now-wife were there when Kensington and I married."

I regretted not being able to attend and said so.

"It is to be expected in our line of work. I harbor no hard feelings," he responded.

"How is Kensington?"

"Ah, the light of my life. The reason I take a breath each day."

"She's lovely, my friend," I said.

"Do not do what I did and risk losing the woman you love out of foolish pride."

It was said that Rile had what some called a sixth sense. At times, I wondered if it was merely vague references that could be interpreted as omniscience.

"I don't know if I'll ever fall in love," I said, testing the waters, so to speak.

He laughed. "Come now. You know better. As do I."

"What if the woman has a strong connection to a man I wished I'd killed?"

"Then, it will be your opportunity to release the hate you feel for him. Forgive him. The anger you hold inside is hurting you far more than it is him."

"Have you forgiven him, Rile?" I asked.

"Yes, my friend. I have."

"I don't know if I can," I admitted.

"It will be worth it. I promise you."

When the call ended, I walked over to the window, where I could see the pub, wishing for two things. First, that I was there with Eliza, and second, that I'd ordered something to eat. Especially since I didn't feel like leaving my flat again.

Knowing the best way for me to lower the adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream was to work my body, I thought about hitting the workout room I'd set up in my flat. I trained anywhere from one to three hours each day, depending on my workload. On missions, it was sometimes more, for the same reason I needed to now—adrenal overload.

First, I had to tear myself away from watching the pub's front door, hoping to see Eliza leaving. I picked up the folded paper and studied the drawings again, replaying our conversation over in my mind.

Had I come on too strong? Did I give Eliza the impression I wanted her in my bed and nothing else? When I called tomorrow, would she assume I was only looking for a hookup?

What was wrong with me? Just because I'd felt an immediate kinship, a desire so powerful it shook me to my core, didn't mean she'd felt the same thing.

Maybe she wouldn't even take my call, thinking I was just a player who wanted in her pants. I did. I wouldn't lie, but that wasn't all I desired.

I raised my head and gazed down at the street in time to see her and Saint exiting the pub. They cheek-kissed, and he dashed off, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk. She clutched a bag that most likely contained her dinner, given less than twenty minutes had passed since she and Saint were led to a table in the dining area.

He was just as irresponsible and self-involved as he'd always been. Didn't he care about Eliza's safety? I waited momentarily to see if she was taking a car service, but when she walked in the opposite direction Saint had, I grabbed my mobile and rang her.

"Hello?" Was it hesitancy I heard in her voice? At least, she'd stopped walking and was still in an area illuminated by the pub's outside lights.

"It's Leviticus."

"Oh, um, hello."

"I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner," I lied.

"Not at all. In fact, my cousin received an urgent call and needed to leave unexpectedly," Eliza explained.

"Where are you now?"

"On my way home. Why do you ask?"

"I'll escort you."

She half laughed. "It's kind of you to offer, but I don't live far."

"Are you still near the pub?"

"Yes, but?—"

"I'll be right down."

I ended the call, hoping she'd wait for me. If she didn't, I knew which way she was headed and would catch up.

Once on the lift, it thankfully went straight to the lobby. I raced over to the pub, and after not seeing her at first, I was relieved to find her waiting on a bench right outside the entrance.

When she looked up at me, her brow was furrowed.

"I live over there," I said, pointing to my building. "I know I seem…too much."

Eliza finally smiled. "You are…a lot."

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and looked off in the distance. That she'd smiled was good, but that she agreed was not.

"Leviticus?"

My gaze met hers.

"That seems so formal. May I call you Levi?"

I smiled like she had. "Any name spoken from your lips is like the sweetest music to me."

"I like your dimples."

Words struggled to fight their way out, but I'd just told myself I would back off on sexual innuendos. "Thank you." I motioned to the bag. "Your dinner?"

"Yes, and Niven's. He insisted I take it, since it would be cold by the time he got home."

"It is probably cold already."

"Perhaps, but less so than after a three-hour drive."

I raised a brow.

"He and his wife live in Alfriston. She's a vicar there." She sighed. "She's also pregnant."

There was nothing I wanted to know about Saint. If I never heard his name mentioned again, I'd be happy. But not asking after his wife when Eliza said he'd received an urgent call, had to leave unexpectedly on a long drive, and his wife was pregnant, seemed callous since it all added to the pressing departure relating to her or the baby.

"Is his wife all right?"

"I'm not sure." Her eyes filled with tears.

"May I?" I motioned to the bench, and she scooted over so I could sit beside her. Once I had, I took her hand. "We'll think positive thoughts."

She gazed up at me. "You're a conundrum, Levi. I felt tension between you and Niven, yet your sensitivity for…" She shook her head and looked down at the ground.

"Finish your thought, Eliza."

She wiped her tears and chuckled. "I'll sound sexist."

"Ah, you were about to say for a man."

"My apologies."

I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. "You are correct in your assumption that I am not always compassionate. You bring it out in me."

Her head cocked.

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy, given we just met, but the protector in me wants to soothe what makes you sad. It's also the reason I insist on walking you home."

"It's very kind of you," she murmured.

"And very selfish. I'll be able to spend a few more minutes with you tonight."

"Do you fancy curry or bangers and mash?" she asked, peering into the bag. "Both will easily reheat, unlike fish and chips. That would be dreadful." She grimaced.

"If you're offering to share, I'd be most appreciative. I regretted leaving the pub without having dinner."

When she stood, I did too.

"Thank you for looking out for me, Levi."

What would she say if I told her how literal her statement was? That I'd been watching the pub? Would she still let me walk her home?

Worse, what if I told her I wanted her beloved cousin dead? Or that I killed people as part of my job?

Could I have something more than meaningless sex with this woman? A relationship between us would be based on lies of omission at least.

What in the bloody hell did I think I was doing? When I chose to join Unit 23—even MI6—I'd thought a long time about what I was giving up. I hadn't made the decision lightly.

It was Edgar "Jekyll" Hyde who'd urged me to think it through. At the time, I was angry. After all, it was the decision he'd made.

Like me, he was single when he signed up. Young and fancy-free, as they say, with no thoughts about what the future might hold. He certainly hadn't anticipated meeting a widow with a daughter.

"I sure as hell never dreamed I'd fall in love. But I did. With both of them. I married my wife and adopted her daughter within a year of meeting them." He'd pulled out his wallet and showed me a photo of the two. "It's the best decision I ever made in my life, Typhon. Being an intelligence agent now feels like the worst."

I hadn't heeded his advice that day, nor did I reconsider it on the day I held him in my arms and watched him breathe his last breath right after he made me promise to take care of his wife and daughter and I'd vowed I would.