Nodding then, Julius turned and carried the box with the headboard toward the house.
Santo closed the back and then hurried around to the driver’s door. Pet was sitting silent and still in the front seat. Definitely controlled, he thought grimly and glanced toward the porch to see Bricker standing there, box in hand, still watching.
Wondering how long her subdued state would last once they were out of Bricker’s sight, Santo pulled on his seat belt and started the engine. As he backed out of the driveway, he turned over all the advice he’d been given. Bricker seemed to agree with Marguerite about the need to talk to Pet. And even Julius seemed to think he should, had even advised him on how to turn the tables and make it so he had to talk less later.
But it was his frustration with her bulleted responses that had made him realize how unpleasant his own lack of communication skills must make him seem to her, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to talk to her. He just needed to figure out what to say, or what she wanted him to say.
“Here we are.”
Pet glanced around with surprise at Santo’s announcement, as startled by the fact that he’d bothered to make the announcement as by the fact that they were here. She’d been a little distracted during the drive. Actually, she’d been controlled at first. She knew that, had felt it, and had known it was Bricker controlling her. He hadn’t tried to hide it. In fact, she’d heard his voice in her head saying this was for her own good as he’d sent her out of the house and into the vehicle.
His control had slipped once they’d driven out of sight of the house, and Pet had been absolutely furious. If Bricker had been there in the SUV with them, she probably would have punched him in the nose. But rather than turn her fury on Santo, she’d forced herself to calm down and look for the source of the anger. It was fear. She had been helpless, trapped in a body controlled by another. Yep. Fear.
Once Pet had acknowledged that, a lot of her anger had slipped away. Not because she wasn’t afraid it could happen again. It could. But fear and anger wouldn’t stop that. What would help stop it was getting away from these people, and she was doing that tonight. In the meantime, Pet was going to eat the most expensive damned steak on the menu, with a baked potato and beans. Oh, yeah, and maybe the combo platter for the appetizer, or fried pickles, or hell, both. She was planning on a big old doggie bag, and Santo was paying. He had to because Bricker hadn’t thought to make her take her damned purse.
Pet undid her seat belt and started to reach for the door, but paused when she realized Santo hadn’t moved. Turning her head, she peered at him in question.
He stared back silently for a minute and then cleared his throat and said, “I know Bricker controlled you to get you to come with me, and I am sorry about that. I should have stopped him once I realized it, but you did want to eat, just not with me, and I wanted to accompany you so I could make up for . . . earlier. I would like to have a nice meal with you and . . . talk.”
The man damned near choked on the word talk, and Pet almost snickered but managed to hold it back. Partially because she was still annoyed.
“I will try to answer any questions you have,” Santo added when she remained silent. “Whether they are about Purdy’s cousin or myself or . . .” He shrugged, seeming to suggest he would talk about anything she wished.
Pet eyed him with curiosity. He’d sounded stiff, his voice gravelly or even rusty by the end, as if he was not used to spitting out so many words at a time. She suspected he wasn’t. But he was trying, she acknowledged, and wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Part of her appreciated it, but another part was suddenly terribly frightened. She’d decided it was better to avoid him. His making an effort now might make him likeable. Add that to her attraction to him and avoiding him would probably become harder.
“Is that all right?” Santo asked solemnly. “Can you stomach eating a meal with me? Or should I take us back to the house?”
Pet almost went for the “take us back to the house” option, but that was her fear talking, and she knew it. Besides, she was hungry, and she still had questions she would like answers to. She opened her mouth to say she would eat a meal with him, but paused when her stomach answered for her with a grumbling that sounded loud in the suddenly silent vehicle.
It struck Pet as funny, and she felt herself relax. A smile even curved her lips as the long complaint ended and she said, “My stomach says yes, it would like to eat.”
Santo relaxed and smiled back, and she was struck again by how beautiful the man was, and then he got out of the truck.
“What are you doing, woman?” Pet muttered under her breath as his door closed. Shaking her head, she opened her own door and followed him out.
Eight
“I guess I should have asked if this restaurant would do,” Santo said solemnly as she met him at the front of the SUV. “I know Bricker suggested it, but you might have preferred something else.”
“Actually, this is one of my favorite places,” Pet assured him. It was a steakhouse chain that aged their meat and, much to her vegetarian sister’s dismay, Pet was a big fan of steak.
“Good.” Santo relaxed and offered her his arm.
Pet blinked at the old world action but then accepted the offered arm. This time she wasn’t taken by surprise when a tingling started where her skin met his. Setting her teeth, she did her best to ignore it. But it was hard to ignore how large and firm the muscle of his forearm felt under her hand, and Pet squeezed gently as they walked to the door, testing the hardness. Santo didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he was too polite to mention it.
“Can I get you a table?”
Pet glanced around at that enthusiastic voice as Santo ushered her inside the restaurant. She watched with amusement as a middle-aged bottle blonde rushed toward them, her attention and wide eyes focused solely on Santo. The woman was practically shivering with excitement as she stopped in front of him.
“A table for two,” Santo said in his deep rumble and the hostess breathed out a long “ohhhh” of wonderment. Pet could only presume it was at how sexy his voice was. She didn’t think it could be with surprise at his asking for a table for two. There were two of them standing there, after all. The woman may not have noticed, though, Pet supposed. The hostess was positively eating Santo alive with her eyes.
Giving her head a shake, Pet released her hold on Santo’s arm and followed when the woman grabbed two menus and started wending her way through the tables. She could feel Santo at her back and noted the other diners glancing their way. Pet was sure his size and the fact that he was gorgeous were the draw, and was relieved when the hostess stopped at a booth and announced brightly, “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Pet slid quickly into the near side, leaving Santo to take the opposite booth seat.
The hostess gave them each a menu and told them that their server would be Dylan, before reluctantly leaving them alone.
It wasn’t until after their waiter had taken their orders and then taken their menus away that Pet even dared to look at Santo again. She found him looking back, his gaze intense, and she quickly glanced away, wondering if he was trying to read her mind. She glanced over the other guests in the restaurant, noting that it was only half full at the moment. But then it was one thirty now, past the lunch hour rush.
“So,” Santo murmured, drawing her reluctant attention back to him. “What do you want to know? What questions do you have regarding the . . . er . . . situation on your sister’s street?” he explained, lowering his voice somewhat and glancing at the tables around them.
Pet looked around again as well, this time noting that there wasn’t really anyone near enough to hear them. She then turned back just in time to see him straighten his shoulders as if preparing himself to face battle.
“I shall endeavor to do a better job of answering them than I did earlier,” he assured her when she hesitated.
Pet felt her mouth twitch with amusement. Really, the man looked like he had just agreed to a root canal without Novocain rather than simply answering some questions. It made her wonder about his earlier annoying lack of communication. Perhaps it hadn’t been deliberately irritating, or a rejection.
Sighing, Pet sat back and considered what she should ask. Her first concern was Parker. Not just his physical safety, which she intended to take care of by taking him to her apartment and keeping him there, but also his emotional well-being, which appeared to be tied up with concern for his friend and neighbor Mr. Purdy. “You said that Purdy’s cousin is dangerous.” When he nodded, Pet asked, “Do you think Mr. Purdy is safe?”
“I do not know,” Santo admitted, but when irritation flickered across her face, he added, “As you know, we have been watching the house, but we have seen no signs of life. We may already be too late.”
He didn’t look any more pleased to make that admission than she was to hear it, she noticed. “Then why haven’t you just raided the place or something?”
Santo hesitated, several expressions running across his face, and then he sighed and said, “Our orders are to watch and wait for backup.”
“Because this cousin is dangerous?” Pet guessed, and before he could answer, asked, “Why? How is he dangerous? What has he done?”
Santo seemed to consider her questions for a long time before finally saying, “If he is who we think he is—”
“Who do you think he is?” Pet interrupted at once.
“Dressler,” Santo answered simply, and then seeing her exasperation with his short answers, he expounded. “Dr. Dressler was a mortal scientist performing . . .” He hesitated, and then asked, “How much do you wish to know about Dressler? His recent history, or—?”
“All of it,” Pet interrupted promptly.
“Right.” Santo grimaced and then took a deep breath and said, “As far as we know, he started out performing genetic experiments on other mortals more than thirty years ago. But—”