Chapter 50: Interlude V
Six days later on Thursday, Elizabeth found herself once again walking the teeming halls and busy courtyards of the University of Washington, her slender arms laden with textbooks and her thoughts brimming with all the assignments she needed to work toward finishing by next week.
Her junior year of college had officially begun on Monday, and it all seemed suddenly much more serious than it had before-"it" meaning her studies...which would ultimately lead her to the unknown life she had stretching before her, a blank canvas of endless possibilities.
Did most third years feel overwhelmed and awed all at once in this way? Or had she just leapt forward in maturity over the last month?
After recovering from Grady Forman's violent attempt on her life in the safety Red's suite and in his company, being back on campus and surrounded by wide open spaces, various buildings, noise, and people was quite...surreal.
For one thing, she had to reacquaint herself with being out in public again, speaking and interacting with strangers, whether they were students like her or professors. At first, she felt like everyone was staring curiously at her, and if she was alone without a familiar, friendly face to buddy up with, she darted from class to class until she could sequester herself up in the library and mentally dive into her work.
Intellectually, Liz knew people weren't really gawking at her. She knew women weren't harshly judging her, and men certainly weren't stalking her. In fact, most people probably didn't even give her a second glance. They all had their own lives to lead, after all.
Consciously, she was quite aware of all of this.
But she was an emotional young woman and the scars Forman's attack left on her heart were still fresh and pink. It would be a while before they faded, so she was still struggling daily to keep her volatile emotions from rearing out of her subconscious to the forefront of her thoughts and running rampant.
During the first couple days on campus, when she would weave her way through the crowds, especially throngs of rowdy young frat guys, it was quite difficult to keep from tossing paranoid looks over her shoulder or from startling easily when someone jostled her as they hurried to their destination. There were times during those first few days when she actually felt panic attacks coming on-brought about, she surmised, from the stresses of the jarring, unpredictable environment she had so suddenly submersed herself in.
Once she felt an attack coming on, when her breathing began to hitch sharply and she felt light-headed and chilled, she abruptly stopped walking and braced herself firmly against the nearest tree or wall, or sat down hard on a nearby bench, hands clasping tightly in her lap, and she breathed deeply like Red had taught her.
In and out.
In...and out.
As she shakily drew in breath after breath, as her heartbeat finally began to calm, her swimming thoughts refocusing, she impatiently tried mastering her irrational fears, reminding herself that she was safe, that Red was just a phone call away, that she had been training with Baz and knew how to defend herself. Not that she was a master of attack and defense like he was, but she was certainly much better off than she had been a month ago.
She wasn't weak.
She was strong.
Wasn't she?
But after the third close call passed on the fourth day of school, Liz stared down doubtfully at the cell phone she was clenching in her clammy hands, hot tears of frustration pricking her eyes.
Was she really so strong if she was having setbacks like this?
Flipping her phone open, her fingers dialed Red's number...but her thumb hesitated over the send button as she wavered indecisively on what she should do.
This wasn't an emergency. She had managed to control her breathing and even calm herself. Despite her longing to hear his reassuring voice, she didn't want him to worry about her.
Pride had kept Liz from telling him about the other three close calls that had happened on the first and then second days of classes. When she hadn't experienced one yesterday, she had been heartened and had fervently hoped that these bouts of anxiety that had been coming unexpectedly upon her had dissipated entirely since she was adjusting more and more to campus life again.
But now that she had experienced a third one in less than a week...
Her pale thumb hit the call button. Whether her finger had slipped or she had subconsciously done it, she couldn't say.
The line immediately rang once.
Shit.
She didn't want him to be concerned!
Swiftly Liz snapped the phone shut and defiantly stuffed it into her jeans pocket.
It wasn't until ten minutes later, when she was in class listening to one of her psychology professors lecture, that she felt it insistently vibrate twice against the top of her thigh. Bracing herself, she quietly slipped the device from her soft denim, flipped it open, and glanced down at Red's message.
-Do you need to talk?-
Liz looked quickly up at her professor, who had paused in speaking and was currently scrawling something illegible on the whiteboard. Frowning, she squinted at the spidery handwriting. She'd have to peer at her partner's notes later to know what in God's name he was writing. Why did all professors have handwriting like doctors? Liz sighed. She was determined to keep her cursive neat and precise throughout college and when she finally made it out into the real world, too!
Shaking herself from her musings to take advantage of the brief lull in the classroom, she sent back, -No. I'm okay.-
In the weighty silence that followed, she could almost see him giving her a searching look.
God, even over text he could read her like a book.
Swallowing thickly, she chewed lightly on her lower lip, nervously waiting for his response.
-If you need me,- he finally replied, -I'm here.-
Breathing a quiet sigh of relief that he hadn't pushed her, she texted back, -I know. Thank you. I'll see you tonight?-
-Of course. I promise I won't be late. George knows to pick you up at the library at seven like he did yesterday.
-I can always just take a cab.-
-Why on Earth would you do that when we have George? She could almost hear the exasperated growl in his words and it made her grin.
Red had offered for her to stay with him in his suite while she looked for an apartment closer to campus, and she had taken him up on his offer.
This meant, of course, that Red insisted she take advantage of George's services.
When she had begun to stammer out a flustered refusal, Red had waved her stuttered exclamations away, telling her blithely that George received a handsome salary and that taking her to and from the university was certainly not out of his way.
So she had reluctantly agreed.
Of course, her feelings of shy embarrassment for having a private car and driver at her disposal had faded over the course of the week once she began to fully appreciate the convenience and luxury it afforded her.
George's sleek, black town car was akin to a small limousine. Liz had room to lay out all her texts and notebooks on the leather seats so she could work on her assignments and readings while traveling back into the heart of the city. The car even had a supply of snacks: from expensive wines and champagnes to ice cold beers, bottled spring waters, and sodas. There were even jars of gold-wrapped candies and chocolate-covered almonds, tins of freshly-baked snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies, and small bags of various kinds of organic, flavorful chips in a basket next to the small icebox.
More than once she hadn't been able to resist the lure of all the delicious snacks. When Red had finally asked her with thinly veiled concern why she hadn't been finishing her dinners over the last few nights, she had given him a helpless grin and a shrug, finally admitting to her guilty pleasure.
Rather than being annoyed, he had actually looked quite pleased. She had a feeling it was because he was relieved to see her normal appetite returning now that she was in school again.
Well, she was glad too.
Her blue eyes glinted with amusement as she texted back, -I was just kidding.-
She could almost see him scowling in half-seriousness. -It's hard to tell tone through this damn texting, Lizzy.-
-Why do it so often then?- she teased. -It's more of a younger generation thing, anyway. I'm honestly surprised you do it as often as you do.-
-You certainly know how to wound a man's pride, sweetheart!-
-I was kidding!- she hurried to reassure him.
-So was I.-
Liz dimpled.
-Shouldn't you be paying attention in class?- This last came on the heels of his previous text.
Wrinkling her nose at the screen, she quickly typed out, -Yeah, probably! I'll see you at home.-
-I'll see you at home.-
Home.
As much as Liz had come to think of the penthouse as her home over the last month, practically speaking, she really needed to live somewhere much closer to the university. And honestly, it wasn't fair to Bronn to keep him cooped up in a hotel, no matter how spacious the suite's rooms and veranda were. He was a large dog and needed space to let loose and run, especially now that his paw pads had healed.
But there was more to it than that.
She wouldn't go back to her old duplex. She couldn't. Every time she'd walk past the pool, she would see Lauren's dead body sprawled, naked legs spread, glassy eyes staring, her face frozen in terror. Every time she'd step up her driveway, she'd look at the walkway winding before her and remember the overwhelming fear and helplessness she'd felt as Forman had attempted to rape and then murder her.
So it had been her idea to start looking for somewhere new to live. Even though Red had given no indication of wanting her to move out, she had felt deep down that it was time for her to independently stand on her own two feet again. She had all but foisted her presence upon him when she had desperately needed him and he, sensitive gentleman that he was, had allowed it. But the worst of the crisis within her had passed, and her pride, maybe even her vanity, clamored for her to show him that she wasn't broken, that she was able to live alone, outside of his constant protection.
On Sunday, when she had quietly announced her intentions to move out over dinner, Red had given her a piercing look over the rim of his glass. It had been a look of surprise, at first. But as he'd held her eyes, his expression had smoothed into one of quiet thoughtfulness.
Then he had asked her if she would like his help in searching for a new apartment.
As she had nodded gratefully, relief had swept through her, chasing her feelings of uncertainty away. Liz hadn't needed to explain in detail to him why she wanted to move out. It had seemed like he already had an idea of her reasoning, and his willingness to aid her in her desire for independence warmed her and reassured her that she was doing the right thing.
But later that night as they had rested drowsily against one another, the sweat from their lovemaking cooling their flushed skin, she had mustered her courage and had brought up the subject one more time. Even though she had thought she'd known where he stood on the matter, she had needed to be certain of how he really felt.
She had needed to actually hear him say the words that he wasn't angry with her.
"You're not upset, right?" she'd asked, her soft voice quietly breaking the languid silence between them.
Red had stirred and had slowly shifted to peer questioningly down into her upturned face. "Upset?"
She had quickly glanced down to nervously study the curling hairs on his bare chest. "About me wanting to move closer to school."
"No," he had shaken his head, frowning slightly. "Of course not." Then his brow had creased in sudden concern. "Did I give you the impression that I was?"
"No," she had quickly jerked her head in denial. "I just..." She'd darted a swift glance up into his face before continuing, "I just wanted to make sure."
"You thought I'd be upset with you...because you want to move closer to the university?" His eyes had searched hers. "So the commute won't take as long? So you can have a bigger place so Bronn will have room to run?" He'd reached out to touch her chin, bringing her restless eyes back to his. "So you can be even more secure in yourself again?" This last was said more slowly, and with compassion.
She had shrugged a smooth shoulder self-consciously at the quiet understanding in his voice.
"Honey," Red had smiled reassuringly, "if I were a lesser man and insecure in our relationship, then...yes, maybe I would be." He'd caressed her cheek with the back of his finger. "But I know exactly where we stand with one another. I don't take your wanting to move out as a slight." His expression had softened as he'd studied her face. "I do understand, you know," he had told her gently.
She had flushed, feeling relieved as well as a little foolish. "I should've just kept my mouth shut," she'd muttered, embarrassed that she had doubted his sincerity.
"No."
The vehemence in his tone had startled her and their eyes had met again.
"I'm glad you spoke up." There'd been a sense of gravity between them that hadn't existed a moment ago. "I want you to always feel like you can talk to me." His fingers had moved to tuck a lock of tangled hair behind her ear. "About anything."
She had leaned into his caress. "You've said that to me before." And he had, multiple times over the last month...and throughout the years he'd been in her life.
"It bears repeating."
His expression had been soft, but his tone of voice had been unreadable. Did he not think she believed him? Because she did.
"I do trust you, Red," she had whispered fiercely.
His eyes had gleamed with a smile at the fire in her voice as he'd run his hand through the heavy fall of her hair.
Liz had wanted to say "thank you" into the charged silence growing between them, but the words had lodged themselves in her throat, completely unwilling to roll easily off her tongue.
They just hadn't seemed to be enough.
Inching herself up on an elbow, she had leaned closer to kiss him on his lips.
There.
Something tight in her heart had eased as their mouths had met and had eased apart and then had slid together again.
This was how she could show him what she was feeling inside. The kiss had genuinely expressed the deep sentiments of gratitude-and love-she'd felt in that moment for him.
He'd known it, too...he must have, for the passion in his response was just as tender and as deep.
"For the record..." his lips had curled as they had finally slipped delicately off of hers to trail up to her ear, "I'm quite proud of you, Lizzy."
She'd closed her eyes as he had nuzzled her temple.
"For all that you've accomplished over these past weeks," he had continued quietly, the stubble on his chin lightly scratching the sensitive place beneath her earlobe, making goosebumps rise in a wave over her entire body. "For all that you want to do...for going back to school tomorrow, for desiring to have your own space..." Leaning back slightly, he met her eyes again, his own serious. "I'm so proud of you."
Liz grasped hold of that memory and held on tightly to it in the back of her mind for the remainder of the afternoon and early evening. It rested there, a reassuring light nestled in the shadows of self-doubt that had been creeping in since she'd felt that crash of anxiety earlier.
When she finally slid into George's car when it rolled into the library's turnabout at seven o'clock sharp, she was delightedly surprised to find Red waiting inside for her on the long, black leather seat.
"Red!" she exclaimed with a happy smile, tossing her book bag on the floor before shutting the door behind her. "I thought you had a meeting tonight."
"It was moved," he replied airily, gathering her close against him for a deep kiss that made her heart pound.
"I'm glad you're here," she murmured rather breathlessly once he released her mouth. Then she glanced self-consciously toward George-and found that a black panel greeted her line of sight rather than the back of the older man's head.
"I thought you'd appreciate a little privacy," Red explained with a twinkle in his eye, expression knowing.
She blushed. "I didn't know the car had that," she gestured toward the panel.
"Convenient, isn't it?" he grinned, leaning back against the cushion as the car began to move forward.
"Very." Relaxing lightly against him, she pulled her knees up to rest them gently on top of his thighs. "Is there a reason you want...privacy?" She fluttered her lashes flirtatiously at him, and his grin widened slightly as he reached out to affectionately cup her cheek in his palm.
"While the thought of making love to you in this car, with its tinted windows and sound-proofed barrier, is a tantalizing one..." he murmured as he ran his fingers slowly down the side of her neck to brush against her waist and then to finally curl around her hip, "I think we need to save that experience for another time."
Liz stiffened slightly, recognizing this particular lighthearted tone. It was the one he used when he was about to speak seriously with her about something of a sensitive nature but didn't want her to immediately clam up on him.
She should have known that he wouldn't allow her accidental-or purposeful?-call to his phone go unspoken of for very long.
God, he knew her so well.
Too well.
"I'm fine," she told him defensively, wincing at how guilty she sounded.
A brow arched. "Are you?" he asked quietly. "You called me today."
She shrugged uncomfortably. "But then I hung up."
"Lizzy."
Biting her lower lip, she lowered her gaze, somewhat ashamed of herself for behaving in such a way to where a gravelly note of exasperation actually colored his voice. It reminded her of how he'd used to admonish her when she'd been a little girl throwing a temper tantrum.
She certainly didn't want him seeing her as immature, especially when she was trying to reestablish herself as a self-assured woman in his eyes.
"I hung up because I got myself under control." The words came out in a husky rush and she hitched an embarrassed shoulder, eyes flickering to his.
Concern creased his brow. "You had a panic attack?"
"No," she shook her head quickly, flushing. Liz refused to call what she had experienced by that name. She didn't dare label it. If she gave it thatname, it would hold too much sway over her. "Nothing so...full-blown." She took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "But...it was the third one I've had this week."
Red's nostrils immediately flared.
"I didn't tell you because I kept thinking 'that'll be the last one' whenever they came on me," she rushed to defend her actions before he could demand why she hadn't told him. "I think..." she hesitated, then continued quietly, "I'm pretty sure it's because I'm having a little trouble adjusting to being on campus."
His expression became less heated and more thoughtful. "Is it all the people?"
"I guess," she hedged, cheeks burning hotter with shame. "The people and...my schedule."
He cocked his head in gentle query.
"I mean...like, my day-to-day schedule isn't as predictable anymore." Understanding dawned in his eyes as she continued, "It's...regimented, sure. But the unpredictability of it all..." She cleared her throat, looking down. "It's been disconcerting, Red."
"I can imagine," he replied, tone softly empathetic. His free hand drifted over hers. "You didn't have to bear it all alone this week, sweetheart."
Her eyes flicked hesitantly to his.
His expression was tender. "Your anxiety. Your doubts."
"I know," she murmured. "I know you're here. And it's not that I don't trust you. But..."
"But...?" He squeezed her fingers in encouragement.
"I'm tired of being weak!" The breathless words burst from her before she could stop them. "I'm tired of feeling like this. Like something's wrong with me. I thought that if I didn't talk about these-these anxiety attacks, or whatever they are...that they'd stop." She ground her teeth against the sudden onslaught of anger and disappointment she felt so deeply in herself-and to keep more humiliating admissions from escaping past her lips.
"You're not weak." Red's voice was firm. "Impatient? Yes. Prideful?" His mouth twitched very slightly. "Yes."
Her eyes narrowed as they searched his.
"Don't misunderstand me," he soothed. "You're allowed your pride, Elizabeth. We all are allowed it." He shook his head in understanding. "Some days it's all that keeps us standing tall." Then he met her eyes again, his own grave. "But don't allow it enough free rein to where it will harm rather than help you."
Liz's eyebrows knit together, wondering what he meant.
"Sometimes talking things out is better than keeping them bottled up to where they seek and finally find a physical outlet," he explained gently.
She frowned down at their clasped hands, understanding that he was suggesting the bouts of anxiety could have possibly been avoided if she had confided in him from the start.
"Did you think that if you shared with me how adjusting to being back at the university was...difficult...I'd think of you as weak?"
"I didn't want you to worry," she whispered.
"Because you thought I'd think you weak."
She hitched a discomfited shoulder.
He let out a quiet breath and lifted his fingers to touch her cheek. "Look at me, Elizabeth. Please."
It was the please that compelled her. Slowly her eyes lifted to his.
"I've said it before and I'm going to say it again: you aren't weak. You've overcome much in the span of a month, Lizzy, but you will not be the woman you were before...before the incident." His tone was very gentle. "It's not fair of you to expect that of yourself."
"But I want to be that woman again." The quiet admission of longing came straight from the very depths of her heart.
"I know you do, honey. I know." Red caressed her cheek in compassion. "But that woman didn't know how strong she really was."
She gazed at him, expression quite fragile indeed. "Are you saying that...that you don't miss her?"
"I'm saying," he replied slowly, "that I have much respect for the strength you've shown me...for the woman you've become." A small, encouraging smile ghosted over his lips. "Perhaps it's time you show yourself what I see."
Elizabeth reflected much on herself that night. And it wasn't easy. Self-reflection never was, especially when she had to closely circle traumatizing memories she wanted to leave buried and never mentally touch again. But after she shoved her pride firmly to the back of her mind, she was able to study herself from a more...detached stance, and she began to understand what Red had been saying about her.
She had overcome so much in such a short amount of time. Even though every week had felt like a lifetime while she'd been living them, four and a half weeks was just a blip of time in the grand scheme of things. By the end of each week, she had tussled with and had succeeded in hurtling over many exceedingly difficult challenges and insecurities amplified by her fear, self-doubt, and shame.
Obviously she was still struggling emotionally, as the anxiety she'd experienced had shown her this week. But she grudgingly admitted to herself that Red was right in that she needed to give herself more credit...that she needed to be much more patient and understanding with herself as she continued to move forward with her life.
To help combat her lingering uncertainties and insecurities, she set and kept to as regular of a schedule as she could on campus and in the city while she stayed with Red. She also made the effort to talk to him about her day...about her classes, about how she felt about them, about her friends or people she met.
Sometimes those conversations lead to deeper, more philosophical ones, something she began to enjoy because it began to dawn on her that he was speaking to her differently...more as an equal.
Not that he hadn't respected her before. He had.
But there was something more to their conversations now that hadn't been there before. Often he would ask for her opinion on an issue and they'd lose themselves in the art of witty or soulful conversing and, sometimes, even debate. They didn't always agree, and many times he would give her advice even if it was unasked for. But that had always been his way and it didn't offend her. She could see that he spoke from life experience...that there was merit behind what he was saying.
What these conversations proved to Liz was that Red's view of her was changing yet again. She was maturing, as was his perception of her...and so was their relationship.
As the weeks continued to progress, taking them further into autumn, she threw herself even more whole-heartedly into her studies, keeping her mind open and listening hard within to see in what direction her intuition would guide her, Psychology or Law.
She still saw Katie and that particular group of friends on campus for lunch or coffee. Liz had kept in contact with Katie during the latter half of her recovery, but only through text. So Katie knew exactly what Liz had gone through and informed those who asked. When the semester had started, she had made sure to tell the girls and young men not to pester Liz about it unless she wanted to talk about what had happened to her.
When Liz had actually seen Katie for the first time in a little over a month, she'd observed her friend's eyes widen slightly in shock.
Elizabeth had felt a burst of self-conscious embarrassment as Katie had managed to hide her concern behind an upbeat "I've freaking missed you, girl!" and an enthusiastic hug.
The stark difference in her appearance and behavior had apparently still been quite noticeable then, but Katie was a sweet enough friend not to comment on how thin she'd looked or how reserved she'd been.
Over the next five weeks, Katie made consistent efforts to bring Liz more and more out of her shell. And even though she was still hesitant to take her friend up on her weekend offers to go out shopping, dancing, or drinking in the city, Liz certainly appreciated them.
She liked knowing she wasn't forgotten about.
But her constant declining of Katie's invitations was beginning to cause a bit of a rift.
"I'm starting to think she really doesn't believe me anymore when I tell her I appreciate her offers to hang out," Elizabeth confided in Red one Saturday night in early October.
"Who, Katie?" Red asked, looking up from his book to observe her frowning down at the text she just received.
At her dejected nod, Red tilted his head slightly to the side. "You could go out, you know," he stated slowly, watching her thoughtfully to gauge her reaction. "You don't need my permission. And I certainly wouldn't begrudge you an evening out with your friends."
"I know that." She shook her head quickly. "That's not it, Red." Then she sighed, looking down at her hands as she set her phone down on the arm of her chair. "They're...at a bar."
"You used to frequent them all the time."
"I know," she muttered, picking at her nail. "I guess I just don't want to deal with drunk guys trying to pick me up." She added a huff to her tone...feigning hauteur to cover the sudden anxiety brought on by the very thought of being in that loud and flashy milieu where a woman had to be on her game and on her guard all at once, even if she was with a group of friends...even if she was in a relationship.
Liz used to relish being in that kind of socially challenging environment, especially when meeting new people. She had thrived on its pulsating energy and had manipulated the undercurrents beneath what was being said by all parties there to further develop her own reputation-and to just let loose and have a good time!
But now...
She bit the inside of her cheek, rubbing her sweaty palms against the tops of her thighs.
"What I'm hearing," he said carefully, marking his place before closing the book, "is that you lack confidence in yourself." He met her eyes, his expression patient. "You need to start thinking about what else you can do to find it again."
"I'm training with Baz three times a week," she immediately defended herself.
"Yes." He regarded her gravely, though not unkindly. "But has that activity been enough for you?"
No. But he already knew that. Liz's nostrils flared and she stubbornly glanced away from him.
They'd spoken of this a few times before...her insecurity, her lack of confidence. It was an incredibly painful subject for her, so it was much easier to brush this consistent advice off and willingly choose to ignore it and the part of herself it pertained to than follow it and once again branch out into the world even more.
Red must have observed the conflict skittering across her face, for he prudently turned the conversation safely back to her original comment. "If you want to show Katie you still want to be her friend, what if you ask her to go out during the day next weekend? You could take her to lunch-or do you both tend to go Dutch?"
Her expression smoothed out into something more thoughtful as she nodded. "Yeah. We tend to split the check. Usually."
He shook his head at that, an amused smile flickering over his lips.
Upon seeing that, she wrinkled her nose at him. "What?" she asked defensively. "Dining etiquette is different for my generation, Red!"
"Okay, okay." He held up a hand placatingly. "So you go Dutch. What is something you could do before or after lunch where it would be just the two of you?"
Liz pursed her lips contemplatively, considering places where there wouldn't be too many people surrounding them, stressing her out. "I guess we could always go to a spa somewhere and get massages." Her blue eyes were gleaming wistfully. "Or we could go to a salon and get our hair and nails done."
Red's white teeth flashed in a pleased smile. "Well, there you go! Why not do both?"
"It's expensive to do both."
"If expense is a problem..." He raised a brow teasingly at her as he made a show of slowly reaching for his wallet.
"I have money, you know," she rolled her eyes in playful exasperation. "I can pay for my own, Red. It's Katie who may not be able to afford both, or even one. She doesn't have an inheritance to dip into..."
His grin was sly. "Or a sugar daddy to pay for her fun?"
"Red!"
"I know you hate it when other people call me that," he told her with a smile, "but I think we can laugh about it here, when it's just the two of us, hmm?"
She snorted dismissively, waving his tease away. "Well, in any case, I don't want her to think I'm insensitive to her monetary status."
"Lizzy, why don't you let me pay for the both of you?" Red asked seriously. "Just this once, let me insist. If you're uncomfortable telling her the money is from me, pretend it's from you."
"If we are going down this path of argument, I have enough money to pay for us both."
He shook his head. "That's a sweet thing to say, honey. And you're right. You do." Sitting forward, he caught and held her eyes. "But let me do this. I want to do this for you, and for her. She's been a good friend to you. An understanding friend who has asked to spend time with you, but hasn't pressured you," he elaborated. "It's a rare thing, you know."
Liz brought her thumbnail to her teeth, nibbling lightly on it as she thought over his rationale.
"Not to mention that you've been working hard on all fronts...and so it follows that you certainly deserve a day of wellness and beauty," he coaxed, voice deepening persuasively. "Please allow me this."
It was the please that swayed her. "All right," she capitulated, giving him a hesitant but grateful smile. "But...just this once, Red."
His answering smile was rather triumphant. "I'll make the reservations for next Saturday for you both at my favorite spa in Seattle, La Porte D'argent. It actually isn't too far from here, come to think of it. Diana, one of the veteran masseuses there, has the hands of a goddess. She'll make you feel like you're floating on air when she's through."
And he was right: Diana did have the hands of her Roman goddess namesake. By the time Liz and Katie left La Porte D'argent the following weekend, it was four-fifteen in the afternoon and they were both feeling like they'd been remade in wisps of air held together by sweet-smelling oils.
"I had no idea spas could be that huge!" Katie exclaimed as they relaxed back against the seat of the cab. "Marble floors! Gilded walls! Forest foliage and meticulously painted ceilings that look like the sky... Not to mention it had that amazing salon attached to it," she shook her head in awe. "That place puts Massage Envy to complete shame!"
"I forget how long we spent in the bathing area," Liz grinned, remembering the giant Roman tub, the multitudes of cascading waterfalls, and the seven, steaming and sparkling pools that had arched like a vibrant rainbow around the room, each one a different color due to the various natural elements that made for healthy skin.
"A couple hours at least," Katie sighed contentedly, head falling back against the top of the seat. "We were treated like queens!" She turned her face to look at her friend. "Your man is definitely well-connected, Liz."
She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, but the knowing grin she shared with Katie was a pleased one. "I'm glad we got our hair and nails done beforethe massage," Liz reflected, moving the conversation away from Red and back to the incredible experience they'd had.
"Me too," Katie agreed.
Both young women looked happily down at their finger and toenails.
Liz lifted her hands, studying her impeccable French manicure. She'd chosen a warm ivory color rather than pure white, which she tended to think was too garish. Unable to resist, she'd had the manicurist paint a delicate flower on both of her ring fingers. A tiny silver jewel glinted in each of the centers.
Sighing contentedly, Liz folded her hands in her lap. "I honestly don't think I could have sat upright in the chair for anything. I'm ready for a nap!"
"Sleeping will be the last thing on his mind when he sees you, so I'd wake yourself up!" Katie teased with an impish grin.
"You think he'll like it?" she blushed, fingering her hair. Some of the length had been cut off, but the burgundy lowlights and layers were back, giving life, volume, and bounce to the dark waves.
Her friend snorted. "You know he will. Just like Mark will like mine!" She ran her hand vainly through her platinum blonde locks, beaming. "I've never gone silver before. He's going to flip his shit. I may not come out of the bedroom all weekend!"
"Katie!" Liz giggled.
"Oh, c'mon, Liz. You know you won't either!" Katie's eyes sparkled mischievously. "If you remember to think at all in the next thirty-six hours, please tell him I said thank you, will you?"
Katie had been right. When Red laid eyes on Elizabeth as she walked through the front door to the suite, thoughts of napping completely fled her consciousness upon seeing the warm affection, the open admiration, and the ardent desire gleaming in his intent gaze.
"You look beautiful," he told her right before scooping her up into his hard arms. "And..." He buried his nose in the curve of her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "Christ, you smell good."
"Thank you," she grinned, giving him a sound kiss on the mouth once he lifted his head. "It's the coconut oil they used. I think Diana rubbed about a gallon of the stuff into my skin," she joked. "Oh, and before I forget-Katie says thank you, too."
"Obviously I don't need to ask you if you had a good time," Red smiled. "You're positively glowing. Radiant. And it's not all due to that gallon of coconut oil." He stepped back to hold her at arm's length. "Let me see everything." His eyes traced over her. "Let me see you."
Liz spread her arms very slightly and twirled around for him in a rather kittenish way before she reached with both hands and pulled her long hair forward to tumble carelessly down her front.
"I got layers," she proclaimed happily, scrunching her fingers through her soft tresses to fluff and shake them out. "And there's even some color again." She lifted one lock and turned it in her fingers, showing him the dark burgundy hue scattered throughout her natural brunette strands, catching the light glittering overhead.
"Beautiful girl." Reaching out, he caught her small hand in his large one and he lifted it, admiring her fingernails. "Pretty." Then an affectionately amused smile curved his lips as he lightly tapped her ring finger that sported the painted flower and jewel. "This is cute, sweetheart," he purred, meeting her eyes.
She blushed, shrugging.
His smile turned into a grin as he brought her hand to rest against his chest, placing his palm over it. Moving closer, his mouth dipped toward her ear. "Do your toes match?" he asked, teeth lightly catching and nibbling on her lobe.
"You'll just have to wait and see," she teased flirtatiously, fingers tightening in his shirt as his lips trailed down her neck to place a kiss at the hollow of her throat.
Her blue eyes gleamed up into his when he pulled back to look at her in mock-sternness. "What if I don't want to wait?"
"Patience is a virtue," Liz chided lightly with a laugh, making to playfully slip away from him.
She didn't get very far. Almost immediately he closed the gap between them, his hands sliding up her arms to clasp her gently, holding her in place. "You're purposefully baiting me," he rumbled, eyes sharpening in keen interest.
Her heart began to pound faster. "Does it turn you on?" The coquettish words escaped her before she quite knew what she was saying.
Red bared his teeth in a delighted grin. "Oh, I think you know the answer to that," he told her before swiftly taking her mouth with his...gently, at first. Always gently.
But as she all but melted into his embrace, he didn't hesitate to quickly deepen the kiss, increasing their rhythm until she was breathless with blossoming desire.
"Do I?" she murmured once he released her lips to gaze knowingly down at her.
Chuckling at her coy attitude, he cupped her face in his palms. "Make love with me, Elizabeth."
Her heart tripped sharply within at the sincere request, at the low, gravelly tone of voice he'd used to say her full name, at the fervent passion emanating from those expressive, green eyes of his.
His smile was warm as he caressed his thumbs under her chin. "I want to see all that lovely hair of yours spread out over my pillow as you lie down..." he murmured softly, tone as smooth as honey. "Or feel it as it drifts down around my face as you thrust over me."
Liz shivered, goosebumps rising all over as one of his hands moved to stroke down the heavy fall of it, tips of his fingers purposefully brushing against her spine through the dark strands.
Her physical reaction wasn't just because of his touch. It was because of his voice, too, because of the things he had just said...
She swallowed thickly.
Elizabeth had to admit, the vivid scene he painted with just a few, choice words was arousing her already piqued interest...her already stimulated body.
And while she was much more comfortable with the act of making love than she had been a month ago, there were still moments, like now, when she was very willing but felt a brief pang of self-consciousness unexpectedly rise up from deep within and express itself in actions or words.
"I thought you were more interested in my toes," she flushed, her sapphire eyes darting skittishly away from him as the words popped nervously out of her mouth.
She'd hoped they would have come out as a sultry tease, but instead they were colored with her bashful awkwardness.
Before she could even think to mentally berate herself for ruining such a sexy moment, Red gently pulled on her hair until she lifted her eyes to his understanding ones. "Oh," he smiled huskily, "I'm sure I'll see them as I undress you...or as I hover over you as you lay back on my bed in nothing but that silky lingerie of yours." His eyes swept hungrily over her. "Or nothing at all."
Her breath caught in her throat at the mental picture...as his hands slipped around her body, fingers trailing down her smooth arms to lace with hers. Slowly he brought them to his lips and pressed a kiss to each.
At the tender display, her eyes finally flickered to his again.
He quirked a jaunty brow slightly at her as if to say, Well?
Elizabeth found her voice, and with it, a shred of composed assurance. "Katie was right," she told him softly, a small, gratified smile pulling at her mouth.
"Oh?"
"She said you'd want to once you saw me."
"Ah." He returned her smile slowly as his eyes searched hers. "I suppose we men can be rather predictable, hmm?"
"Not always," she teased, well aware of his desirous stare.
"Well, how can I not 'want to' when you're standing in front of me, looking so damned ravishing and literally seducing all my physical senses..." He squeezed her slender hands, expression serious. "You know what I want. But what do you want, sweetheart?"
She dimpled at him, a burst of confidence returning, alighting her sparkling eyes and forcibly pushing back her lingering embarrassment as she took his sincere words to heart. "I want you," she declared before sensually closing the small distance between them.
It was a few hours later, while they were lounging lazily in bed, when Red received a phone call from one of his employees. A fine little apartment, one that fit all of Elizabeth's needs, had finally been found about ten to fifteen minutes away from campus. Photos were immediately texted and Red put his cell on mute as Liz carefully looked them over, her excitement growing the more she saw.
"It's perfect!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.
Smiling, Red took his phone back and gave the order to have the apartment held so she could come see it for herself before any final decisions were made.
"What did you say?" he asked whoever he was speaking with on the other line. "What-oh. When is she coming?" Red repeated back, eyes flicking to her.
Liz propped herself up on her elbows, chin resting over her laced fingers as she smiled sweetly up at him from her indolent position on her stomach.
Unable to resist her enticing ways, he reached out to trail his free palm down the smooth, naked arch of her back to lightly-possessively-cup her ass.
"Tomorrow," Red answered gruffly, eyes gleaming knowingly down at her as she stifled an amused laugh with her slim fingers. "She's busy this evening."
Seeing the apartment with her own two eyes was just a formality, in Liz's opinion. She had known it was the one when she had seen the photos. But Red had advised her long ago to never to put money down on property until she had physically gone to the site in question and had inspected and walked the grounds for herself. She recognized the wisdom in his words, so she followed his directive before she officially leased it and moved in.
"It's an amazing apartment, Baz," she gushed a couple weeks later as they seated themselves on the padded floor to stretch their legs. "I can't believe it wasn't snatched up the second it went on the market! Especially since it's so close to campus..."
The man smiled, bending one knee up and grasping hold of it, pulling it into his chest. "I'm assuming the price was probably pretty steep?"
She copied him. "Yeah," she replied thoughtfully. "That's probably why." Then she smiled. "But I got lucky. Red managed to get the original price down for me by speaking directly to the owner. He didn't have to go through the realtor."
"He's not paying for it?" Baz asked curiously.
Liz shook her head, releasing her right leg so she could do the same to her left. She wasn't offended by his question. Red had paid for much over the course of her life and Baz probably knew that. So it would be a rational conclusion for him to draw: assuming that Red was paying for her living arrangement.
"I can afford it," she confided. "When my dad passed away, he left me some money." She glanced up at him, deciding to trust him with some more personal information. "It's a lot of money. More than I thought he had tucked away." Her brows knit together. "But..."
"But?" the man prompted when she trailed off uncertainly.
She sighed, giving him a faint smile. "But I'd much rather have him here than have the money."
His expression softened slightly at her quiet remark. "Of course you would, Liz."
"Sometimes I feel guilty about using it."
"The money?"
"Yeah." She stretched both legs out in front of her and reached easily for her toes. "It's like... I don't know. It's like I'm using him. My dad."
"He left it for you to be used," Baz reassured her.
"I know that," she conceded quietly. "But it's like...what I'm spending it on is only temporary. I know I won't stay in Washington forever. Sometimes I feel like I'm...wasting it, since I'm not buying something that will last."
"You're not disrespecting your dad's memory by spending the money, Liz. Even if it is on something temporary, as you say. You need somewhere to live!"
She snorted softly. "I know. And I know it's stupid-"
"Not stupid," he interrupted sharply.
The sudden heat in his voice made her eyes snap back to his in shock.
"You're not stupid for thinking that you'll hold on to your dad, to his memory, by not spending the money." Baz cleared his throat, reining in his flash of temper. "Don't put yourself down like that. I don't like it."
She bit her lip and glanced self-consciously down at her bare legs.
"What you're saying shows that you have a good heart. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
Liz silently bent her knees, bringing both her heels in to rest between her legs.
"Don't brush off what I'm saying," he warned. "You need to give yourself more credit, Liz."
"You sound a little like Red." She glanced up at him, a hesitant smile touching her lips.
Baz waggled his eyebrows mischievously at her to take away the harsh sting of his previous tone. "Then maybe you should listen to me. Most times I know what I'm talking about."
That elicited a grin from her. "So now that I've shared something personal with you, you get to share something personal with me."
"You're changing the subject."
An impudent brow rose. "So? That's what people do when they're having a conversation."
The man's eyes narrowed in pretend annoyance and her impertinence. "I thought we were here to train, not to talk."
"We're stretching," Liz defended their actions, gesturing to their contorted bodies. "We can multitask by talking and stretching at the same time."
Baz rolled his eyes and shook his head, diverted. "Fine. But," he held up a cautioning finger, "after I share a secret of my life that will undoubtedly bring us closer together, we get down to business."
"To defeat the Huns?"
Surprised laughter burst from him and he rubbed his brow, both exasperated and amused with her all at once.
"I'm surprised you got the reference," Liz grinned impishly.
"What do you want to know, Elizabeth?" Baz growled, cracking his neck to release some of the tension.
"What is it exactly that you do for Red?" she asked as she continued going through he motions of warming up her body. "I mean, I know you work for him. I overhead you both talking, once."
Baz shot her a discreetly wary look. The little minx had good ears. He'd have to warn Red later. But he knew that right now, in this pivotal moment, he had to really watch his step with Elizabeth.
Like his employer, he wouldn't lie to her. But he had to be extremely careful about what kind of information he shared with her.
"I was hired to be a guard."
Her eyes snapped to his face, expression both immensely curious and extremely taken aback. "A guard?" she gaped.
"Yes."
A tense silence began to stretch between them as they studied one another.
After several moments, Liz scowled at him, finally breaking their stalemate with a huffy, "Care to elaborate?"
"Were you waiting for me to?" he asked innocently. "You didn't ask for me to elaborate, you know. I'm not a woman. Your gender tends to elaborate without us even having to ask, but we men-"
Rankled, she snarled at him.
His response to that was to laugh at her display of perturbed temper. "You're so damn easy to rile up!" he chortled.
Baring her teeth at his assertion, she flicked an impatient hand. She wasn't about to let him mentally wander off on a tangent. He wasn't going to be let off the hook so easily! "Well?" she demanded testily.
Baz's smile eased into something more pensive as he considered her for a moment. "You know how wealthy Red is, Liz," he finally told her seriously, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Wealth brings power and influence. When a man has those things, he tends to create enemies. In Red's specific case, he has many of them spanning the globe." There was no sugarcoating this kind of information, and his tone was very calm and matter-of-fact as he laid it all out on the line for her to absorb.
"So you weren't kidding." Her blue eyes were wide. "You really are a bodyguard."
"I prefer the term 'guard,'" Baz corrected gently. "I protect more than just his body."
Liz leaned back on her hands, staring openly at him as she began to reevaluate her previous perception of him. "If you're supposed to be his guard, then why aren't you with him now?"
"He doesn't always need a guard," the stocky man explained. "But if he did need my type of services while I'm here with you, he'd call on someone else."
"Oh." Liz blinked. "There are...there are more of you?"
"There are a few of us around," Baz hedged.
Liz licked her lips, filing that bit of information away for later reflection. "You said Red has enemies..." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Would they...would they try to kill him?"
The man pretended not to notice how her voice had hitched slightly on the word kill. He crossed his legs and sat up straighter, reaching an arm up and behind his shoulder to stretch his tricep. "As I said," Baz replied slowly as she copied him, "he is very wealthy. Has a highly successful shipping business. Owns high-priced holdings." He shrugged before reaching behind him to stretch his other tricep. "You can't really blame him for being cautious, Liz. Even Bill Gates has guards," he explained, doing his best to soothe her worry. "You get money, you get paranoid because everyone is out to get you in any way they can...to take that good fortune away."
"Through violence."
"Not always. But sometimes, yes."
"Has he ever been in danger?" she asked quietly.
Baz hesitated, wondering just how much further they could go in this conversation before he'd have to call an abrupt halt to it. "There've been couple times when he's gone toe-to-toe with a competitor," he admitted reluctantly. Upon seeing concern flicker across her face and fill her big eyes, he gave her a reassuring smile. "But as you can see, Red came out on top. He always does."
Liz gazed wordlessly at him, wondering just how in the world Sam, a simple man who'd lived a simple life in the Nebraskan countryside, had come to know and befriend such a wealthy, powerful, and influential man like Red...a man who needed to hire not just one guard, but multiple guards, to protect him and his interests.
And why had she never been informed of this?
She had understood for many years that Red preferred to keep his personal and business lives separate. And she had always respected that. But him hiring and using guards while he was here in Seattle...
Liz frowned.
Wasn't this something rather important that a woman he was involved with needed to know?
Before she could become too lost in her private and restless musings, Baz swiftly pushed off the mat and then helped her to a standing position.
"All right," he began in his no-nonsense, instructing voice. "Today we're moving off into how to disable your opponent with using only your hands." The man turned her body, showing her where exactly she should place her feet and how she should hold her posture...redirecting her concentration from their grave conversation to her self-defense lesson in order to engage her complete attention.
And Elizabeth would allow herself to be thoroughly distracted so she wouldn't give Baz the satisfaction of observing her fall hard on her ass due to a lack of concentration.
She would apply herself whole-heartedly-for a time.
But once this session with Baz was over, she knew she'd have to talk to Red.
Notes: Thank you to my betas for being so encouraging and amazingly helpful, and to my readers for being so patient in waiting for the next chapter ❤ I really hope you enjoy!
