Chapter 10
Lyra
I was a nervous wreck on Saturday night. What the hell had possessed me to drag Marcus into this?
You have to look out for him. Try and keep him safe.
My team was in the field. It would be all right. I checked my appearance in the mirror one more time, hardly recognizing the woman I saw. This woman’s eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed. She looked excited. Preparing for the mission this week had left me very little personal time, so I hadn’t seen much of Marcus. This was all far more complicated than I had bargained for.
I’d opted for an outfit that I could move in. A skirt, showing my legs, but paired with breathable flats, a plain white T-shirt, and a slim-fit leather jacket to hide all my weapons.
I kept my hair simple, leaving it curly. Besides, I didn’t have time to fiddle with it. When I’d originally thought my partner was going to be Addie or Tyler, I hadn’t planned to take time to bother with it. Now that it was an actual date with Marcus, I wanted to look better, but given the lack of prep time, natural was as good as it got.
When the knock sounded, I took a deep breath before I opened the door. Marcus stood on the other side looking like he’d just walked off of a magazine shoot. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing dark wash jeans, partially unlaced black boots, a light blue sweater that matched his eyes, and a comfortable looking leather jacket on top. His hair was this sort of messy, wild disarray of dark curls that I wanted to run my fingers through. The man looked good enough to eat, and he knew it.
“Hi.”
His gaze swept in on my frame, those ice blue eyes growing darker. “Jesus, you look amazing.”
I grinned. “Thank you. You brought me flowers?”
“Yeah. I remembered these were your favorite.”
I frowned at that. Had I told him that? Then I remembered as we’d walked to the restaurant on one of our dates, I’d mentioned my mother always had lilacs when I was growing up.
The sting behind my eyes surprised me, and I said, “Oh wow, that’s so sweet of you.”
“One of these days, you’re going to stop calling me sweet.”
My brain remembered that he wasn’t sweet at all. The way he’d kissed me a few days earlier was like a man who knew how to possess me heart and soul. “You know that’s not a bad thing, right?”
“I thought women like men with a little more edge.”
She shook her head. “No. Not all women.” Lies. You like his edge.
“Right.”
“Let me get these in a vase and then we can go.”
Before walking outside, Marcus took my hand, pulling me to him. “I’m going to go crazy if I don’t do this first.”
The kiss was quick, hot, and made my knees buckle inside of three seconds. When he pulled back, all I could do was attempt to bring my sanity back online.
Outside of the flat, Marcus led me toward a sleek black sportscar and opened the door for me. I frowned. “Is this you?”
He laughed. “Yes, it is. Normally when we have a date, we walk or we meet somewhere. But I wanted this to be a real date, so I’m trying to make a good impression.”
The leather interior still had that new-car smell. “You must rarely drive this thing.”
“You’re right. I work primarily from home, so I don’t get to use it often. But I do love it.”
“I never would have figured you for a gearhead.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lyra Wilkinson.”
“Maybe I’ll find out more.”
“Here’s hoping you do.”
The drive downtown wasn’t a particularly long one, but I was glad I had my jacket to keep me from freezing in the T-shirt I’d worn. His gaze slid over me as I put on my seat belt. “You think you’ll be warm enough? I can put the top up.”
“No, I think I’ll be fine.” The air whipped around us as we started to drive, and I knew my curls would probably be tangled beyond measure, but I loved the freedom of the wind blowing and I didn’t want it to stop. His gaze swept over me one more time, and I laughed as I pulled my hair back. “This is perfect.”
“Good. I want you to have fun.”
And I was. With him looking at me like this and the wind blowing, I could almost believe this was real. That this was a feeling I could keep.
Lyra
The Bacchanal was eighteen and over because some of the images in the special exhibit contained nudity. But mostly, it was wholesome and fun. We came upon a particular image that was really stunning. He was holding my hand when we saw it, and all I could do was stand and stare. Marcus stopped as well and grinned.
I couldn’t help the wistful sigh that came out. “Oh my God, that’s a beautiful photo.”
“Yes, yes, it is.”
His hand was firm and warm, and we laughed and chuckled as he talked to me about the photos and paintings that particularly caught our attention. He also talked about his workday coding games and told me stories about his family and his nephew, and I couldn’t help but see bits and pieces of him falling into place.
The more I saw, the more I wanted him. He had no idea that his voice, his mere presence even, were like a tease to me. Like a caress that I never wanted to stop.
Oh, you’ve got it bad.
The Bacchanal was a feast for the eyes. They decorated the desert to the east to look just like Venice. I’d heard from the planning committees that they’d even created canals. It was like we’d suddenly been transported into the 16th century. There were
