Both watched silently as the remaining contents tumbled from her purse. Marie involuntarily gasped when amongst the random papers lay five hundred dollars. She didn't even want to touch it to see if it was real. She knew it was. She also knew it was the money she'd given him. Somehow he'd managed to slip it back into her purse without her knowing.
She turned from the money to him, not sure what to say, let alone what this even meant. He sat completely still as if he'd been carved from marble and was nothing more than a statue. The panic that had danced in the red flame of his eyes turned to dread as she just continued to stare speechlessly at him.
Remy couldn't read all her emotions. He knew that shock was there, and confusion. Try as he might, he couldn't say anything or move. He opened his mouth a few times to explain, only to close it quickly and look away. She hadn't asked him anything or said anything at all, so he wasn't sure if he needed to explain or not.
She tentatively reached out and took the bills, holding them up to him. "This is your money," she whispered.
"And I did what I wanted to with it," he answered just as quietly, not daring to meet her eyes.
"You're not supposed to give it back."
"I know, but I shouldn't have taken the job to begin with."
"I see," she answered.
Remy caught the edge to her voice and finally met her eyes. They glittered with unshed tears.
"Conflicting interests." He began, not sure how to word his thoughts. "I shouldn't have taken the job because I'm… I'm not supposed to have anything personal involved or at stake in it."
"I don't understand—"
"I broke every rule. I went against every code of ethics in my line of work. I've been personally involved since day one. I took a job solely based on what I wanted, rather than for the best benefit of my organization or the client."
"What was it you wanted?" she asked, her voice breaking. What could she have that he possibly wanted other than the thrill of dangerous sex?
"I just wanted to be near you," he answered softly. He heaved a mournful sigh. "I liked the way you looked at me. I've never been the hero in someone's eyes, and when you looked at me—Je suis désolé, you really don't need to hear this. I think it's best if I just leave. I've caused enough trouble already."
He quickly fixed up his clothes and abruptly stood up. He was making a complete fool of himself, spilling his heart out to a girl who had hired him. The least he could do was maintain the bare minimum of professionalism.
"Again, I'm sorry," he apologized, hurrying towards the door.
He never reached it.
Her hand reached out, grabbing him tightly by the wrist. He froze in mid step, not daring to turn around. If he did he wouldn't be able to leave. He'd made a mess of this whole situation. He had to leave. There was nothing in the world short of looking at her that could make him stay. He had the chance to do the right thing and he intended to do it. He just had to make it to the door. He tugged softly at his captured arm and she held tighter.
She uttered one single word to him and all was lost.
"Stay," she whispered.
He didn't move, doubt creeping through his mind. She could have said anything to him and he still would have only heard that single word.
Because it was what he wanted to hear.
When he didn't move in either direction to stay or go, Marie pulled sharply on his wrist. He stumbled backwards losing a bit of balance, but ultimately turning to face her. She stood, moving forward to close the distance between them.
She looked up at him, gently reaching out and tipping his face to look at her. He could spend a lifetime of solace in those eyes.
"Please stay." Her voice was barely audible, like she shouldn't be saying it out loud.
It took him a couple tries before his answer could make it past his lips. "Okay," he answered, surprised any sound came out at all.
She kept his wrist and led him back to the bed. She pressed his shoulders down, forcing him to sit back down on the edge. Marie moved onto his lap, straddling his legs. He kept his hands at his sides, not sure if he should touch her.
Marie ran her hands from his shoulders to the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing each one he'd hastily buttoned. The crisp fabric fell open, baring his chest with each undone button. When she reached the bottom, she slid her gloved hands underneath the shirt and began pushing it out and off his shoulders.
He moved in a trance, letting her remove his shirt and toss it to the side. Her hands and eyes trailed his upper body in a slow delicate tease, finally resting on the bare right arm he habitually hid. He had tucked his arm back behind him and leaned his weight on it, efficiently hiding it. Marie tugged that arm, forcing him to shift his weight and gain her access.
His breathing quickened as she delicately traced the intricate white lines that spilt from the glove up the inside of his arm. He stiffened when she began to slide the glove from his hand, glancing nervously at the light switch across the room. He looked like he was about to protest when the glove came off and she tossed it carelessly away.
"My concentration is no good right now. I can't touch you without the gloves," he objected weakly, in one last attempt to hide his scars.
She grabbed his hand within hers, guiding it along her upper body to rest on her left breast. "Sure you can," she answered. "Just keep it above the clothes."
He swallowed hard as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her clothed upper body against his bare chest, subsequently pushing his hand harder into her breast. A small, delicate sound escaped his lips as he slowly rubbed his palm over the soft flesh beneath his hand.
He shifted again, sitting up off his other arm so he could move it around her waist and playfully over her panties. She sighed and gave him an impish grin before grinding her hips slowly up against his. He moaned softly as her rolling hips called him out to play once more.
"Ready for round two?" she moaned sweetly in his ear.
Remy merely nodded before sinking back into the bed with her.
Logan didn't need to ask why Bobby was sulking in the kitchen this late at night. There were things he liked to pretend he didn't know. Like Marie sneaking a certain Cajun up in her room for the night, for instance. That was something he didn't want to know. He sure as hell didn't want to know what they were doing in there either. Logan would have preferred her spending the evening away from the mansion if she planned on spending it with that guy.
By look on Bobby's face, Bobby would agree with him.
"Quit sulking kid," Logan grumbled. "You made your bed now lie in it."
"What?" Bobby said looking soggier than his bowl of Cheerios.
"I said, quit acting so hard done by, Drake. You brought this all on yourself."
Bobby covered his head with his hands. "I know!" he cried out in despair. "I really fucked up this time. He wasn't supposed to be in the picture."
"And Kitty was?"
"I just wanted to—"
"Yeah, yeah, I already know what it was you wanted to do." Logan cut in quickly. He had not planned on sitting here listening to Bobby's sob story. He had very little sympathy for the boy.
"Now she's in love with that guy!" Bobby wailed.
Logan rolled his eyes, perturbed, Bobby was being just a tad melodramatic and somehow he seemed to still think he was the victim in this whole thing. It was a little too conceited for Logan's taste.
"What did you expect, Drake? You told a woman who was completely devoted and in love with you that you wanted to sleep with other women. How the hell did you think this was going to play out?" Logan had to fight to keep his voice down. "Now, I don't like that guy anymore than you do, but he's managed to keep one thing for her that you lost a long time ago."
"And what's that?' Bobby asked bitterly.
Logan got up from his perch. "Respect," Logan answered while leaving the room. "So quit crying in your Cheerios and take it like a man. You deserve every bit of this."
Bobby's head just collapsed back into his hands.
Logan had tried very hard not to say anything, not to get involved, but if Bobby expected him to be sympathetic because Marie had fallen for someone new, that was just too damn bad. Logan sure as hell didn't like the Cajun, but at least Marie had made the best of a bad situation and had moved on, proving she could survive being dumped.
It was something he'd always wondered about. Call it a morbid curiosity. With Marie's mutation hindering her from physical contact with men, he'd always wondered what Bobby leaving her would do. Honestly, and he felt guilty for thinking it, he'd expected her to shy away and become a recluse, guarding herself from everyone. Instead, she went and found a warm, little Cajun to snuggle up with. Apart from her taste in men, perhaps all of this wasn't bad for her at all.
Logan headed softly off to his own room, briefly pausing at her door. There was no sound coming from the room other than the rhythmic breathing of slumber, and for that he was grateful. He could still catch the scent of the Cajun, which meant he hadn't left and was still behind the closed door with her. It was tempting to knock on the door disturbing their sleep and throw the guy out, but Logan let it be.
Marie had never even had Bobby in her room over night. For her to give the privilege to the Cajun meant he really was something special to her.
Logan sighed.
If Bobby wanted her back, he was going to have one heck of a time trying to do it. Not that Logan really cared. And as for him, he had to accept the Cajun had earned a permanent position in Marie's heart. There was still something decidedly off about the guy, and Logan refused to trust him, but for Marie's sake it was time to be a little more accepting. Careful, but accepting.
Remy stared up at the dark ceiling. Hours later, he was still deciding if this was all a dream. Nothing in his life had ever fallen this easily into place. She wanted him. She'd found the money and she had still wanted him. He had told her the truth and she liked him even more. He didn't have to give her any witty or charming lines, she simply liked him for him. She never once questioned or doubted what he'd said. No one had ever just trusted him at his word. He was a thief, a liar and a cheat. He specialized in cons and putting on masks. But she could see through it and see him as just him.
And she liked what she saw.
Remy couldn't remember a time when he wasn't pretending to be something he wasn't. He had no idea his life could ever have taken such a turn. To her, he was one of the good guys. She didn't care if his armour was slightly tarnished, she liked him.
Really liked him.
Enough that she took him to the most pleasurable places with those satin gloved hands twice. He didn't even think of round two as foreplay or sex, but more of an expression of love. He'd never consciously been a sap, he was realist. He understood the principles of lust. That had been round one. Round two had been much softer, more sensual. It called out to his romanticized beliefs that she was the one, despite all his logical thinking. Where he and Bella had failed, he and Rogue had succeeded.
Marie proved to him that someone like him was just as deserving of love as anyone else. He wasn't that guy watching jealously from the shadows anymore. He was the guy in her bed, mind you, fully clothed now as she snuggled up close to his body, softly breathing in his scent in her deep sleep.
Remy stiffened protectively when the light from under the door was interrupted by footsteps stopping outside her bedroom. Whoever was outside the door lingered a moment or two before the shadows of the feet vanished down the hall. He wondered if it was Bobby. Was Bobby still Rogue's boyfriend? Or was that his position now?
It would be unwise to assume that one night of passion officially made her his. He had considered it the purest expression of love he'd ever conceived, and could only hope she had felt the same. He also knew it had started from Bobby coming out of another woman's room. He didn't want to believe her asking him to stay had anything to do with revenge. He was willing to believe the first time had been, but the second, not a chance. Even Remy couldn't fake a connection like that.
He had to get out of his contract with Sinister and get his life back. Rogue didn't deserve a man who owed his soul to a criminal. Rogue also didn't deserve a man who actually was a criminal. He could dig himself out of the hole he'd dug. He just had to be cleverer than the rest. He had to be smarter than Sinister. Smarter than Regan and the rest of the Marauders. He couldn't really make any moves until Sinister contacted him directly about the job he'd been handpicked for, but he could do it. He could get out.
He knew from the Marauder meeting that Sinister was making dangerous alliances, what he didn't know was what everyone's individual jobs were. He knew one person knew more than they were letting on.
He may have fucked up by announcing Rogue as his girlfriend to a room full of Sinister's mercs, but Regan had fucked up by letting her emotions betray her knowledge in what was going on.
He didn't like the idea of crossing Regan. She had some low level psychic abilities along with mind manipulating illusions, but it looked like Regan would be getting a visit from him sooner than later. She was his best bet at getting out.