vast differences. He was Cartier and Versace, and Dimitri was Levi’s and Gap. No doubt the two of them had absolutely nothing in common except the violin.

He still wondered why Dimitri had given it up. Mr. Dubisson hadn’t elaborated and it would have been rude to come out and just ask.

Eli turned on the stereo in his room. A hip-hop beat from his favorite group filled the room. He danced around while he put an outfit together. Stupid Dimitri had no right to tell him how dress.

Sandals would be out since they’d be doing a lot of walking, so he pulled out a pair of sneakers, just in case he’d have to run. It was hot already, so short sleeves were definitely in order. His eyes landed on the perfect shirt. He looked at his watch. Five. He’d better hop into the shower. Eli continued to listen to the music while he washed. A few minutes later he exited and dressed.

The telephone rang five minutes to six.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.”

So rude. “Give me a second.” Eli walked over to the security pad in his room and punched in the code.

“I’m impressed,” Dimitri told him through the phone.

Eli watched the camera as Dimitri drove through the gates. They closed as soon as Dimitri passed the sensors.

“So this is how the other half lives,” Dimitri said sarcastically into the receiver of the phone. “Is that your home I see before me, or the Tokyo Imperial Palace?”

“Smart-ass,” Eli said, shoving his wallet into his pocket and his keys, while speaking to Dimitri through the speaker. He walked out of his room and down the stairs to disarm the motion detectors.

Dimitri arrived at the door.

Eli looked him over, surprised the guards hadn’t shot him on sight. Blue jeans, a tie-dyed T-shirt, and sandals. But at least he had a nice car. He’d expected Dimitri to have something retro like a Volkswagen Beetle or maybe a motorcycle.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Dimitri asked, leaning in the door jamb.

He knew he probably shouldn’t, but he didn’t want to be unkind even though Dimitri had gone out of his way to be annoying. Eli stepped aside and let Dimitri in. He closed and locked the door quickly.

Dimitri whistled as he walked around the marbled foyer of the Saint Charles Street mansion. “Mr. Dubisson said your father is a judge. Is he on the take? I don’t know any judges who can afford to live like this.”

“How many judges do you know?” Eli asked sarcastically as he took him on the tour of the rest of the place.

“I’ve been before more than I care to remember.” He stopped in front of a fireplace and looked up at two huge portraits. “Are those you parents?”

“Yes,” Eli answered. “It was taken a couple of weeks after they were married.”

“You have your father’s eyes,” Dimitri said. He looked over at the other portrait. “You were a cute kid.”

“As opposed to not being a cute adult?”

“No comment,” Dimitri said, walking away and peeking into the dining room. “Are we here alone?”

“Why? Are you planning to rob the place?” Dimitri rolled his eyes at him. “No.” He approached and pulled Eli into his arms. “This is why.” He kissed him.

Eli moved out of Dimitri’s embrace and wiped the kiss from his lips. “I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss me.”

“I said I wouldn’t kiss you in public,” Dimitri said, walking up the staircase. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Why?” Eli asked, following Dimitri up the stairs. He got ahead of him and led the way. His parents’ bedroom was off-limits, even to him. He opened the door to his room and Dimitri stepped inside.

“I expected to find a canopy bed with long, flowing mosquito netting to protect the young prince,” Dimitri teased.

“We’re not that rich,” Eli said.

Dimitri raised a blond eyebrow.

“My grandfather was a famous violinist with the New Orleans Symphony Orchestra and my other grandfather dabbled in oil.”

“And of course both grandfathers spoiled you rotten,” Dimitri said, opening the closet and peering inside. “Wow, prep boy city.”

“Are you finished scrutinizing my life?”

“Not quite yet.” Dimitri closed the closet and walked over to check out the bathroom. “You have a shower and a sunken tub.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Eli asked.

“No,” Dimitri answered. “And you’re neat and orderly. That’s good to know in a relationship.”

“What relationship?” Eli asked. He didn’t expect to ever see Dimitri again after the tattoos were removed later. “We aren’t in a relationship.”

Dimitri sauntered over to him. “We are most certainly in a relationship. I’m in your bedroom and we’re about to go out on a date.”

Eli turned on his heels and walked out the door. “We are not going on a date.”

Dimitri followed him. “Have you ever been on a date before?”

“Sure,” Eli lied as they walked down the stairs. “Plenty of times.”

“Have you ever been on a date with that pretty blonde who came into the tattoo parlor with you?”

Eli stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Holly and I are good friends.”

“But you’d like it to be more?”

Eli walked toward the door and opened it. “You have to step outside,” he told Dimitri. “I need to set the alarm.” Dimitri stepped out of the door and Eli set the alarm and followed him out.

“You haven’t answered me.”

Eli locked the door and put the keys into his pocket. Dimitri had asked him about Holly. What had he done that night to make him suspect that he had feelings for the young woman? “Yes,” he finally answered.

Dimitri opened the car door and Eli got in. He closed the door and walked around and got into the driver’s seat. A few minutes later they drove through the Garden District and headed toward the French Quarter. Dimitri parked his car in the garage of his apartment and they got out. “We can walk from here,” Dimitri said. “We’re meeting Greer and some friends there.”

“Greer?” Eli asked.

“The cute, dark-haired tattoo artist.”

“Oh,” Eli said like he cared, which he really didn’t. So they wouldn’t be alone. Good. The

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