“Really?” Valerie asked with disgust. “Mind loaning me that metabolism for a while?”
Anders grinned. He’d like to give it to her for life, a very long life, but didn’t say so. Instead he said, “Why? You have a beautiful body.”
Valerie grimaced. “No one mentioned you had vision problems.”
“And no one told me you had body image problems,” he countered gently.
She smiled wryly. “I don’t think there’s a woman on the planet who doesn’t. If they aren’t skinny and wanting to be bigger, they’re bigger wanting to be smaller. The ones in between want bigger breasts, or think they don’t have hips, or they have a fat butt, or, or, or.” She sighed. “Truly, we are in an era of women made neurotic about our bodies.”
Anders could have told her she was right. He’d read enough female minds to know there were a very few who didn’t have some complaint about their figure. At least mortal women did. Immortal women, on the other hand, were a different creature. They knew the nanos made them their optimal self, with a body in peak condition. It took away the possibility of self-criticism. It was rather like scoring high on an IQ test. With scientific results saying you were smart, it was hard to feel stupid. In the same way, knowing that you had a perfect body made it hard to imagine you were fat, or imperfect physically. Of course, it didn’t stop them thinking they had a big nose, or thin lips or a myriad other imperfections, but at least it cut out a portion of the self-flagellation humans seemed determined to torment themselves with.
“What’s ‘Anders’ short for?”
He blinked his thoughts away and glanced to Valerie. She was looking more relaxed now that he wasn’t approaching, and her head was tipped curiously as she waited for his answer.
Apparently he wasn’t quick enough answering, because she went on, “Or is it your last name like you call Justin by his last name Bricker?”
“It’s a short form of my last name,” he answered.
Her eyebrows rose. “Which is?”
“Andronnikov.”
That made her eyes widen. “What’s your first name?”
He was silent for a moment, but suspected now that she knew she didn’t even know his first name, Valerie would hardly be willing to kiss him again, let alone anything else if he didn’t tell her. Women could be funny about wanting to know the name of the guy sticking their tongue down her throat while groping her. “My first name is Semen.”
She blinked several times at this news, and then simply breathed, “Oh dear.”
At least she wasn’t laughing, Anders thought wryly, and explained, “It’s Basque in origin. Based on the word for son.”
“I see,” she murmured.
“Everyone just calls me Anders.”
“Yes, I can see why,” she muttered, and then cleared her throat and said, “So your father was Russian, and your mother Basque and neither of them spoke English?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well it’s that or they had a sick sense of humor,” she said dryly. “That’s like naming a daughter Ova. Worse even. I’m surprised you survived high school with a name like that.”
“Actually, I’ve met a couple of women named Ova over the years,” Anders said with amusement.
“Dear God,” she muttered.
Anders chuckled and moved sideways, not drawing any closer, but moving to grip the edge of the pool as she was doing so that they faced each other with their sides to the pool rim.
Valerie smiled, and then said, “So were you raised in Basque Country or Russia or Canada?”
“Russia to start,” he answered solemnly, easing a step closer in the water.
She nodded, seemingly unsurprised and said, “You have a bit of an accent. Not a thick one, but a bit of it. I figured you weren’t raised here from birth.”
“No, I came here later,” Anders acknowledged. Much later, but he kept that to himself for now and eased another step closer.
“And is there a Mrs. Andronnikov?”
The question startled him, and made him pause mid-step. Affronted by the very question, he said stiffly, “I would hardly have kissed you earlier if I was married.”
“Good to know,” she said and glanced away almost shyly.
Anders took advantage of her lack of attention and closed the distance between them. When Valerie turned back, he was only inches away. Close enough to grab her arm and pull her into his embrace, but he didn’t. This was him trying not to rush and scare her off. His best behavior. It was damned hard. He really just wanted to kiss her, rip her bathing suit off, and take her there in the water up against the side of the pool.
Of course, he couldn’t do that without endangering her life. She’d surely drown at the end when they both went into the life mate post-coital faint. That knowledge was enough to make Anders behave himself.
“What made you decide to be a vet?” he asked to distract her from his nearness.
Valerie smiled faintly, some of the tension that had gripped her when she saw how close he was, easing. “I think every girl wants to be a vet and take care of sick and injured animals when she’s little,” she said wryly and then shrugged. “I just never grew out of it.”
“So, still a child at heart?” Anders suggested quietly.
“Maybe,” she acknowledged and then tilted her head and asked, “Why did you join law enforcement?”
“Every little boy wants to save the damsel in distress and be a hero when he’s growing up. I guess I just never outgrew that,” Anders said lightly.
She wasn’t amused as intended; instead, Valerie frowned. “Is that how you see me? As a damsel in distress?”
The question surprised a bark of laughter from Anders and he shook his head. “Hardly. I see you as incredibly brave and strong. You rescued yourself from that house. You didn’t need a hero. You are one.”
Valerie lowered her head as he spoke, and didn’t look back up. It made him frown and ask, “Should I not have brought it up? Does it upset you to talk about it?”
She was silent for a moment, and then raised and shook her head. Her cheeks were a bit pink and he realized she’d ducked her head to hide a blush.
“No. Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t.” She glanced to the side, checking on her dog, he realized when he followed her gaze and noted Roxy was sleeping by the chair with Valerie’s towel on it. He supposed the dog had been roaming the yard when he’d come out, but he hadn’t noted her absence then. He’d been too eager to get to Valerie.
“I’m not sure why it doesn’t bother me,” Valerie acknowledged wryly, drawing his attention back to her. “I guess maybe because I was drugged and slept through most of it. I mean, the kidnapping was pretty traumatizing, and the first night out too, but the last night . . .” She hesitated and then admitted, “It felt good to fight back.”
Anders nodded in understanding.
“Mind you, if I hadn’t managed to escape it would have been a different story,” she added wryly.
“You didn’t just escape, Valerie,” he said quietly. “You saved those other women too. Each of them owes you her life. You
are
a heroine.”
She looked uncomfortable and shifted in the water, and then asked, “Do you think Lucian’s right and the other women won’t agree to a meeting?”
Anders hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to his life mate, but didn’t know how not to. Lucian wouldn’t ask the other women to get together. He couldn’t. When he’d said the women had returned to their old lives and probably wanted to forget, he’d meant they had been returned to their old lives after they’d been
made
to forget. Their memories had been wiped. They wouldn’t recall anything of what had happened. Bringing them back together would probably undo all of that, but that was risky. They’d wiped them because more than one wasn’t as strong as Valerie and had been ready to crumble. Wiping their memories had been the kindest thing to do. Lucian wouldn’t reverse it unless it was absolutely necessary.
“You don’t think they’ll agree to meet either, do you?” Valerie asked when he remained silent, lost in thought.
Deciding distraction was the best tactic in this situation, Anders pulled her into his arms and kissed her. That was all he’d intended for it to be. A kiss, maybe two, to distract her from a question he couldn’t answer honestly.
He was an idiot, Anders acknowledged seconds later when, after an initial hesitation, Valerie opened her mouth to him. Any thought of stopping at one or two kisses flew out the window the moment she began to kiss him back. He was hardly aware of her arms twining around his neck, his senses were rocking under the impact of what their mouths were doing, and the feel of her body pressing against his in the water.
Groaning, Anders turned her and pressed her back up against the cold tiles of the pool, holding her there with his body as his hands began to roam down her sides.
Had he thought the water was cool when he’d entered? It seemed to be warm now, hot even, as if their bodies were heating it, Anders thought as his hands found her breasts through her swimsuit top and Valerie moaned into his mouth. A sound he echoed as her pleasure rolled through him as well. Eager for more, Anders tugged the cups of her bathing suit top aside and covered her breasts with his hands. The moment he did, Valerie broke their kiss on a gasp of excitement, her legs wrapping around his hips, and fingers scraping over his short hair as he squeezed and kneaded the soft globes. When he removed his hands to clasp her by the waist, she moaned in disappointment, then cried out as he lifted her out of the water enough to clamp his lips on one rosy nipple.
Anders groaned as her excitement shot through him, a punch to the gut. He suckled eagerly at one breast, then the other, then couldn’t stand it anymore and lowered her back down enough to claim her mouth again. Their kiss this time was almost violent, a battle of tongues as he ground his hips forward, rubbing his groin against her. She ground right back and this time he was hit with a double whammy of excitement and need as their pleasure commingled, vibrating through him in growing waves.
Clasping the cheeks of her behind in both hands, Anders squeezed and pressed her even tighter to him, then slipped one hand down to find her hot core. He’d nearly reached that sweet spot and his body was throbbing with the anticipation of it, when he heard his name barked in an unmistakable voice.
Anders froze, torn between groaning and cursing. Then, he slowly withdrew his hand and eased some space between himself and Valerie.
“Sorry,” he whispered when she moaned at the loss. Sighing with regret, he tugged her bathing suit top back into place and glanced past her toward the house. Lucian stood in the open French doors, face expressionless.
“Bring Valerie. The sketch artist is here,” he said simply. He didn’t shout. He didn’t have to. Anders heard him just fine.
Sighing, he nodded, then lowered his forehead to Valerie’s and briefly closed his eyes.
“What did he say?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“The sketch artist is here,” Anders answered solemnly.
“Oh,” Valerie breathed.
“We have to go in,” he added gently.
“Yes, of course,” she murmured, but didn’t move. It was Anders who gently unwrapped her legs from around his hips.
“Sorry,” Valerie muttered, seeming only then to become aware of where her legs had been. She removed her arms then too, grabbing for the side of the pool as if unsure her legs would take her weight, and Anders understood thoroughly. His own legs were a little shaky at that point. He was also sporting one hell of an erection.
“Let me just take one lap and I’ll see you out,” he said, backing away from her and hoping the distance and one lap would give his erection a chance to dissipate enough that it wouldn’t look like he had a tent pole in his swim trunks when he got out.
Nodding, Valerie turned away and pulled herself up and out of the water enough to rest her chin on her crossed arms on the pool rim. It was then that Anders spotted the bandage on her back and recalled her wound.
“I didn’t hurt you when I pressed you up against the side of the pool, did I?” he asked with concern.
“What?” She glanced over her shoulder with confusion, and then seemed to recall her back wound and shook her head. “No. It’s okay, I—oh crap!”
Anders started back with concern. “What is it?”
“I wasn’t supposed to get it wet,” she said with vexation, trying to twist around enough to see her wound. “I forgot all about that when Leigh suggested a swim today.”
“Apparently, so did she,” Anders said quietly, moving up beside her to pull himself out of the water. He stood and turned back, caught her under the arms and quickly lifted her out as well. Valerie’s eyes were wide when he set her on her feet and for a moment he thought it was the strength he’d revealed with the action, but then he realized her eyes were locked on his groin.
Glancing down, he viewed the pop-tent in his trunks and grimaced. Even he was impressed by the size of it. Christ, she’d inspired a small Eiffel tower down there. Sadly, she looked more worried than impressed.
Sighing, Anders moved past her to grab her towel, only then realizing he hadn’t thought to grab one. Shaking his head, he turned to open it for her, but she shook her own head.
“I think you need it more,” Valerie said, biting her lip as she continued to eye his erection.
Mouth tightening, Anders wrapped it around her shoulders and then physically turned her, pointing her toward the house. “Go. I’ll follow in a minute. I just want to swim a couple laps.”
Valerie hesitated, but started to walk when he gave her a gentle push. Anders watched until she reached the French doors with the faithful Roxy following, then turned and dove into the water. He suspected it was going to take more than a couple laps to rid himself of the hardness presently acting like a rudder in the water.
“H
is ears were a little bigger, and his eyes a little smaller,” Valerie said, leaning forward and watching Bryan, the sketch artist, do his thing.
“Better?” Bryan asked, turning the picture toward her after making the corrections.
Valerie peered silently at the image for several minutes, but then nodded her head. The sketch lacked the personality and terror-inducing life of the real man, but she suspected it was as close as they were going to get with a drawing.