Part 25
Miranda manages to catch some sleep on the luxurious jet with Andrea next to her. Before she doses off, it amuses Miranda to see how the three men and one woman who originally chartered the plane all show interest in Andrea—and how oblivious Andrea is about it. Of course, Andrea is a charismatic, beautiful young woman, so why wouldn't these people notice it? The fact that Andrea keeps Miranda's hand in hers for the duration of the flight seems to finally hit home with the corporate crowd.
Reaching Geneva, they rent an unassuming looking car at the airport. On the way to the garage, Miranda pulls out her cell phone and hands it to Andrea. "When we get to the car, find us a hotel room for one night. We also need to shop for some clothes."
"And locate the library."
"Yes. Even more important." Miranda stops by the white Toyota Yaris and can't help but sigh inwardly, thinking of her sports car in New York. She places her go bag in the backseat while Andrea puts her bag between her feet on the passenger side. Miranda checks the time on the dashboard. "It's too late to head to the library. Let's do the other errands after you find us a hotel."
"I'll put the address into the GPS when I'm done." Andrea is already focusing on Miranda's phone.
Miranda pulls out of the garage and into traffic. Driving toward the center of Geneva took all her concentration. Being used to New York traffic, that wasn't the issue, mainly that she didn't know her way around.
"I found the library. Promenade des Bastions 1. There are several hotels not too far away."
"Just pick one."
"All right." Andrea tapped at Miranda's phone. "There." She entered the address into the car's built-in GPS.
Relieved at having a goal, Miranda follows the sonorous automatic female voice's directions. "We'll check-in and then take care of our errands."
"Gotcha." Andrea gently squeezes Miranda's knee, making her clutch the wheel harder.
The hotel turns out to be a large, anonymous enterprise, geared toward visiting politicians and businesspeople. Miranda relaxes as they weaved through the crowd after checking in. Reaching the room, she's pleased to find a large enough safe to place her ledger and pouch of documents in. It always irks her to have them out of her sight unless they're in her safe in New York, but this is better than carrying them around all the time. When Miranda steps away from the safe, making a mental note of the code she chose, she flinches as Andrea is standing right behind her.
"Andrea?"
Andrea doesn't answer but takes Miranda by the shoulders and tugs her into her arms. As Miranda, she's taken off her coat and now she's running her hands up and down Miranda's back.
"Oh, God." Miranda breathes the words in a whisper as her vocal cords have given in.
Andrea raises her hands until she gently cups Miranda's cheeks. "Alone."
"Excuse me?" Miranda's head is spinning. She clings to Andrea's hips, bunching up the shirt with her fists.
"We said we'd wait until we're alone. We are alone now." Andrea kisses her. Her lips are soft as they explore Miranda's mouth.
"Mm. Yes." The fact that they have errands to run and plans to make, fades into a mist when Andrea moves her lips down to her neck. Small, sharp nips and soothing caresses with a quick, agile tongue, has Miranda's knees sagging. She shoves her fingers into Andrea's hair. "Jesus…"
Andrea walks Miranda backward until her back is against the wall. There she stops, their body isn't even touching now, but their lips are so close together that an intake of breath will mean their kissing. Andrea waits. For what?
Miranda raises a hand and whispers her fingertips along Andrea's cheek. "It'll mean broken hearts," she says huskily. "The more I let you in, the greater the pain."
"Too late." Andrea sighs and her breath is sweet with traces of the coffee from the plane.
Miranda knows Andrea is right. They are far too deep with how they feel. And yet Andrea doesn't know that there are degrees of how bad 'too deep' can become. How it can tear a person apart. It's been more than a hundred and fifty years, but Miranda has stuck to her vow not to go through that again. And yet—here she is with Andrea so close, physically and, sweet Jesus, emotionally.
"Yes, it is too late, but it's not too late to minimize collateral damage," Miranda says, and she can hear how hollow her voice is.
"Collateral damage?" Andrea doesn't move other than tipping her head back to meet Miranda's gaze. "Is that supposed to be me?" There's no anger, but her eyes are opaque.
"Collateral damage is when my actions, or any Amaranthine's, cause pain or injury to someone who is not one of us." Miranda clears her throat. "It's the law. 'We shall not bring this misfortune onto others."
"That fucking law," Andrea snarls, startling Miranda. "It's not real." She closes the distance between them. "It's not an actual law. And I'd like to remind you that I'm my own person, perfectly capable to judge the risks I take, or choose not to take. I don't subscribe or recognize this law of yours." Her body fully aligned with Miranda's, Andrea kisses her, not angrily, but with a tinge of frustration. She sucks Miranda's lower lip in between hers and Miranda responds the way she must. The way she has to because Andrea is right, it is too late. Too late to regret anything.
Miranda shoves her hands in under Andrea's shirt, finding smooth, warm skin. Growling low in her throat, she takes Andrea's mouth, caresses her tongue with hers, claims this woman and feels her heart begin to shatter already. She doesn't care. Right now, all she can feel is Andrea and how this girl, so strong, so loyal, burns against her.
"Oh, God," Miranda speaks the words into Andrea's mouth. "So be it."
xxxxx
Continued in part 26