Midnights queen, p.10
Midnight's Queen, page 10
“Good morning, Portia.” Aleks’s deep voice came from her left.
She spun around to greet him and the words caught in her throat. He was dressed for the unpredictable Seattle weather, where autumn could bring anything from rain and sleet to unseasonably warm sunny days. Black jeans hugged firm thighs that she’d gripped with her own. An old-timey bomber-style leather jacket over a white shirt covered his broad chest. He held two cups and a small bag. But it was the grin on his face that made her heart skip a beat.
“Good morning.” The greeting came out huskier than she intended and heat tinged her cheeks.
“Thank you for meeting me, especially on such short notice.” His sincerity flustered her. He handed her one of the cups.
“I was surprised to get your message this morning. Especially after the call last night.” The words came out a little sharper than she intended and she hid a wince.
He exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry about that. Ignoring my employers isn’t something I can do lightly. They expect immediate and absolute loyalty.” A shadow passed over his face.
“Dealing with my father was frequently like that.” Crap. She had definitely not intended to say that. She needed caffeine immediately.
Taking a tentative sip of the drink he’d handed her, she let the contents roll over her tongue. Coffee, slightly sweet and balanced with steamed milk. “It’s perfect.” She looked up at him in surprise.
“Flat white, two sugars,” he said smugly. “I used your dossier for something other than its intended purpose.”
She should be concerned that the Solveigs’ dossier on her was that detailed but decided to be amused instead. It was the kind of thing Tommy would have done. The thought made her smile. “Is that breakfast?” She nodded at the bag.
“Yes. There’s a little European coffee shop near Pike Place Market.” His smile brightened the morning.
“There is?” Coffee was still big business in Seattle. The reigning corporation had gotten its claws deep into the city years and years ago. Sure, rivals cropped up from time to time, but the odds of survival were low. The other coffee companies either faded away quietly or they were made to disappear . . . violently.
Aleks looked at Portia, laughter in his deep-sea eyes. “Yes. Tucked in a corner, only a few tables, known for delicious pastries?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t sound familiar.” Admitting that felt like failure. How could she not know about a hidden gem of a coffee shop in her city, only a few blocks from where she lived? And it was her city.
Portia glanced from him to the bag of pastries. It was a sweet gesture, one that touched her a little too much, since it would have been so much easier to eat at a restaurant. At least then she wouldn’t have to wonder where he intended them to eat. “Did you want to eat at your hotel suite? Or did you want to come up?” Panic nipped at the words. It felt too—soon? Too much? Too personal?—to invite him into the home she’d shared with Tommy. The apartment had been their place. Her escape from the pressures of work. The only person they’d ever had over was Killian.
“I thought we’d just walk, if that’s okay with you.” He was watching her closely and she worried about what her expression may have given away.
“Yes, that’s great,” she said, her relief obvious in her tone.
Aleks discombobulated her. He worked for the enemy and yet he made her feel things she hadn’t expected to feel again. It was as infuriating as it was special. He made her want to lower her defenses, but that had proven to be a mistake two nights ago.
Yet here she was, meeting him for breakfast in broad daylight. Or at least fog.
“We can play tourist in your city.”
Be a tourist in her own city? Portia had never even considered that. She was actually surprised that Tommy had never suggested it either. Then again, maybe she wasn’t. He’d probably done everything there was to do in the city while she was working.
“I’d like that,” she admitted. “But not today. I do have time for coffee and pastries, though.”
Maybe Tommy had been right. Maybe she did need to spend less time in the office.
Chapter 19
“This dossier of yours. Does it say what kind of pastries I like?” Portia’s smile was shy, her tone a little bit flirtatious.
Aleks’s brain raced to catch up with this unexpected turn of events. He’d been up too late researching the Vyne situation and studying his options. After too few hours of sleep, he’d left the hotel in search of coffee. The coffee shop had been recommended online and he was desperate for a reminder of home.
Messaging Portia this morning had been an impulse move, born of insufficient sleep and caffeine deprivation. Her agreement had brought a burst of happiness; suddenly he’d been awake and his mind clear. Every neuron was focused on seeing her and his synapses danced with pleasure at the thought.
Which had to be another unexpected malfunction in the brain chip. Instead of overthinking it, he decided to enjoy this unexpected moment.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. He was actually surprised that she agreed.
“Now put your phone away. Please.”
She raised a brow, but complied.
“Ready?”
When she nodded, Aleks pulled a napkin from the bag and carefully grabbed one of the treats he’d picked up at the bakery. He handed her the spiced bun. Golden brown, still warm from the bakery, it smelled like home to him.
She took it with her free hand and studied it. “What is it?”
“Breakfast,” he said with a laugh.
She rolled her eyes at him. “It looks kind of like a cinnamon roll.” Lifting it to her nose, she delicately sniffed it. Her eyes flew wide. “It smells . . . floral?”
He nodded. “Try it first.”
“Fine,” she huffed. She raised the pastry to her lips and took a delicate bite. “Oh my god, it’s so good. It’s kind of . . . peppery?”
“Cardamom,” he informed her.
Her next bite wasn’t delicate at all. She moaned in appreciation and the sound traveled straight to his heart. Oh, that was bad.
“It’s a cardamom bun,” he told her. “They’re very similar to a traditional Swedish pastry.”
“It’s delicious,” she said. She shoved the last piece into her mouth. When she finished chewing, she asked, “Do you have another?”
He held the bag open for her as she grabbed another pastry. Then he took the last treat in the bag.
“What’s that?” she asked around bites.
“Cinnamon roll. I wasn’t sure whether you’d like the cardamom buns or not, so I got something more traditional.”
“Not like, love,” she said.
His heart went boom. “Shall we?” He gestured toward the sidewalk, desperate to ignore whatever that feeling had been.
They walked in silence several minutes. He could get used to this. Early morning walks with this beautiful woman. Exploring the city as it woke up.
He shook his head. It was an impossible dream.
“I always assumed you’d have newsies camped outside your door.” He hadn’t seen any as he’d approached her building. If the paparazzi caught them together and identified him, it could be catastrophic for both of them. The newsies would have a field day with the speculation about the Tremaine CEO and a Solveig Consortium employee.
The best of all the bad options would be if he simply lost his job. The worst option would be everything, including his mission, blowing up. So he just wouldn’t let that happen.
Her smile was more of a grimace. “Is that what it’s like in Sweden?”
His overactive brain conjured up armies of newsies camped outside the Solveigs’ city apartment. He laughed at the image. “Uh, no.”
“They’re more polite?” Portia asked.
“Not exactly.” Aleks tilted his head, considering everything he knew about them, which wasn’t a lot. He wasn’t really allowed to deal with the press, legitimate or not. “I think it’s more that the Solv—” He caught himself and corrected quickly, “The corporations in Sweden are more boring.”
Portia laughed. The full-bodied throaty sound was so at odds with the woman he’d expected to meet on this trip.
“Of course, I expect that the number of newsies will change drastically when Dizzie goes back with me.” Aleks spoke without thinking.
“Did you have to bring her up?” Frost tinged Portia’s voice.
This was one barrier that he couldn’t understand. Both women were practically orphans and yet they resisted becoming family. Imagine how strong their bond would be if they put that energy into their relationship. They’d be unstoppable.
“You can’t avoid her forever.”
“I can try,” she retorted smartly.
He met that comment with silence, wondering if she would fill it. Portia didn’t seem like a woman who would fall for that. He guessed she was the one who used the silence to get others to talk.
Once again, she surprised him.
“Fine. Yes, I imagine that the Solveigs and your city will be overrun with newsies demanding the story of the long-lost heir.”
“Maybe that will get them to leave you alone.” He couldn’t imagine living under the constant scrutiny she faced.
This time her laugh was a bit bitter. “Not once she tells the story of how the terrible Tremaine Corporation ruined her life and kept her locked away from her rightful family for years and years. The newsies will be camped out on my steps just like they were after the accident. And if Dizzie adds in how her own sister tried to kill her? Well, I’ll never see the end of them.”
“What?” He couldn’t have heard that right. Aleks looked over at Portia, but she was looking away from him. “Did you just say you tried to kill Dizzie?” He tried to temper the horror in his voice, but his mind was too busy scrambling to make sense of her words to control his tone as well.
“Yes.” Her answer was clipped. “It was just a few days after she killed Tommy.” She paused, grief contorting her features. She took a sip of coffee, then rephrased her answer. “It was a few days after Tommy’s death in the bombing and everything pointed to her being the killer. So, when I saw her with Killian, all I could see was a way to get justice for Tommy. I gunned the engine and hit her with my car.”
She stopped walking, her body radiating tension. She was waiting for him to judge her.
He knew what it was like to be judged. He’d arrived with some preconceived notions about Portia already. She’d proven those wrong, so he wouldn’t judge her now. “She, uh, obviously survived.” Smooth, Aleks. Totally non-judgy.
Portia nodded but kept her gaze far off, never once looking at him. “Killian got her to the hospital in time. That’s how they discovered that she was my father’s daughter.”
He noted her careful wording but challenged it. “Your sister.”
Her gaze, tinged with sadness and a little heat, swung back to him. “Fine. My sister. Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing me to acknowledge her?”
“You’re isolated from everyone, sitting up there in your cold office, looking out over the city, but not interacting with it. You need someone to connect you to the outside world. To remind you that there’s more to life than work.” He swallowed a laugh as the words tumbled out. He really should take his own advice.
“That’s what Tommy did,” she said quietly.
Aleks reached for her hand but stopped just before taking it. He tilted his head, silently asking for permission.
She hesitated, then shoved her empty napkin into a pocket. When she tentatively offered her hand, he took it, no hesitation.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He held her gaze, willing her to read his sincerity. Had he come to town while her husband was still alive, he’d have never known her on this personal level. “I’m sorry that you lost that key person, but you have a chance to build a new relationship. Maybe it won’t work. Maybe she’ll want nothing to do with you. Maybe she’ll want to move to Sweden, but you’ll never know until you ask.”
“Is that the plan?”
His brain whirred, working to understand her question. “To build your relationship with Dizzie?”
She shook her head. “To get Dizzie to move to Sweden.”
Aleks paused and considered his answer. Telling her the truth would be considered a betrayal by his employers, but keeping her in the dark would forever ruin any chance he had with her. Not that he thought a chance existed, but he could dream, right?
“It will be up to Dizzie.” He chose his words carefully. “I think Mrs. Solveig believes that your sister will choose to come back to Sweden and join the family business there.”
“After an angry repudiation of the Tremaine family, of course.” Her tone was light, but her gaze was heavy.
He smiled, despite the seriousness—and accuracy—of her statement.
“Yes, that would be ideal.” He added a touch of humor to his voice, so she wouldn’t think that he believed it.
Portia didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied their linked hands and started walking. He kept pace with her, confident that she would speak when she was ready.
“I don’t think it will be that easy,” she said finally.
“Getting Dizzie to Sweden?”
“Sure, that’s part of it. But getting Mrs. Solveig to believe anything other than the pretty picture she’s painted in her head.” She paused, her forehead creasing in concentration. “Would she try to force Dizzie to go?”
Dammit. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. Apparently, he’d been too busy mooning over Portia and hadn’t focused enough of his attention on keeping control of the conversation.
If she’d already figured it out, he wasn’t obligated to keep it from her, right? Balancing his loyalty to his employer and his infatuation with Portia was harder than he’d expected. “Do I believe that the Solveigs will try to force your sister to go to Sweden?” He sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”
The smile completely disappeared from Portia’s face. “Will you be the one to do it?” Her tone was dead serious.
Would he? He thought of the many distasteful things the Solveigs had required of him over the years. Yet, whenever it was a truly dirty job—murder or kidnapping or torture—they had called in those they deemed more trustworthy than him. “No, I don’t believe that’s something they would trust me with.”
“I’m both glad that it won’t be your job—not that I’d let it get that far—and angry on your behalf.” Her expression was a mix of horror and curiosity and something that he really hoped wasn’t pity. “Why wouldn’t they trust you to kidnap my sister?”
Chapter 20
This wasn’t the strangest conversation he’d ever had, but it was close. That didn’t negate the little rush of pleasure that came from her indignation on his behalf. No one ever stood up for him. His appreciation of her deepened.
“They think I’m defective.” Now it was his turn to look away from a difficult conversation. He didn’t want to watch her indignation turn to pity. “I joined the Solveig Consortium’s security services right after graduation. During my training, they offered a super soldier program and I signed up.”
“Super soldier? Like faster and stronger?” She squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to her. Her grip was warm, compared to the cool air around them and the even colder memories.
He nodded. “They implanted chips in our brains that were supposed to create new connections, ones that would give us faster reflexes, that kind of thing.” Aleks swallowed hard and ignored his racing pulse. He hated talking about this. “My chip failed.”
“They can’t possibly blame you for that!” Her voice rose.
Aleks surveyed the street around them, thankful it was still deserted and that they hadn’t drawn any attention.
He continued walking. “They didn’t blame me for the chip failure,” he said. “The chip rewired my brain, all right, just not in the way that they expected. Because I didn’t get the super-soldier attributes they wanted, it’s considered a failure.”
Portia gasped. “That’s not fair!”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “You of all people should know that fair doesn’t exist in the corporate world. There are the people who call the shots and there are the people like me who take their orders.” It was the way of their world.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued because he really wanted this conversation over with. “Whatever the new wiring did, my brain isn’t the same. It’s like my brain can’t stop gathering information and when it overloads, I make bad decisions or I get terrible headaches.
“The security team still gave me a chance after the tests showed I didn’t get the physical improvements. They thought that maybe I could harness the rewiring to make on-the-spot mission decisions.” That had been a debacle. “Not long after the surgery, I fucked up a simple test mission, because my brain basically short-circuited. It’s broken. I’m broken.” Except he didn’t feel that way, not when he was with her.
“They’re wrong,” Portia said. “That wasn’t a fair test.”
He pulled his hand away and started walking. There was more. So much more that she wouldn’t want to hear.
Portia kept pace with him, her presence both soothing and abrasive. His brain poked at the dichotomy, intrigued with her many facets.
Aleks slowed his pace and studied the unfamiliar architecture around them. Maybe it would distract his brain from its current dangerous path.
The buildings they passed were a mix of tall brick structures and mammoth towers of glass and steel. The tallest ones disappeared into the fog that hung over the city. Aleks preferred the smaller, older brick buildings tucked here and there amongst the skyscrapers. They reminded him of home.
“What happened after the test mission?” Portia asked.
He sighed. She wasn’t going to let this go. “They booted me from the security program. I should’ve ended up at one of the company’s factories, but the Solveigs found my new skills useful enough to keep me around.”
