She clamped on him, clinging to his waist with all her strength.
Instead of slowing to a stop in the drive near the front doors, he sent the Harley rocketing up the front steps and onto the spacious portico.
“Whoa!” she shouted.
The front door opened as they plunged to a stop. Julian blurred into motion, sweeping her off the bike and into shelter before her feet had a chance to touch the ground.
As Gregoire slammed the door shut, Julian set her down. After such an intense finish to the ride, she was shaking wildly. He kept one arm tight around her while he pulled off the helmet.
Dropping the helmet, he brushed her long, tangled hair back from her face. His sharp gaze roamed her features.
“We made it,” he said. “That’s it. We’re here. You’re safe.”
“Understood,” she managed between gritted teeth. If he had let go of her, she would have fallen.
“Melly.” He cupped the back of her head as he clenched her to him. She tried to clutch at his leather jacket, but her fingers wouldn’t work properly.
“What can I do?” Gregoire asked in a quiet voice.
Vaguely she was aware of Julian plucking the gun out of her shaking grip and handing it over to the other man. “Increase security around the perimeter. Contact Xavier and Yolanthe. Tell them we’re here and to expect a briefing shortly. Get hot tea and food up to my rooms. I need a new phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m o-okay,” Melly told Julian.
“I know you are.” His gaze was concerned.
Her teeth started to chatter. “I’m j-just reacting.”
“Hell, I am too.” Scooping her into his arms, he jogged up the main stairs.
She managed to hook an arm around his neck. “I w-w-wasn’t expecting the t-trip to end like that.”
“Your back was so unprotected, I couldn’t stand it.” Rapidly he walked down the hall.
She hadn’t been in his San Francisco home in over twenty years. The décor had changed somewhat. It was still a sophisticated blend of creams and golds, with dark antiques, but the wallpaper and paints had been updated, giving the interior a combination of a traditional and a contemporary look.
The layout remained the same, and she knew where he was taking her – to his suite. For a brief moment she tried to decide if she cared, but she really didn’t. She couldn’t even scare up a ghost of pretense. Whenever she had visited, his suite had been a happy place, filled with safety and sensuality.
The future would take care of itself soon enough. Right now, she couldn’t imagine anywhere else she would rather be.
Carrying her into his room, he set her in a worn leather armchair, set in a reading nook in one corner. A faint, comforting scent of cigar smoke surrounded her. A gold-inlaid humidor sat on a table beside the chair, along with a crystal ashtray and an old-fashioned metal torch lighter. This was where he sat to smoke and think.
She loved the smell of his cigars. Hand rolled and made of high-end, organic tobacco, they seemed clean and aromatic compared to the stink of so many modern cigarettes.
Steel shutters at the windows ran on an automatic timer. At the moment, they were all closed against direct sunshine. The room lay in deep shadow, with the only light streaming in from the hall, until he switched on the lamp beside the chair.
He knelt in front of her, gathering her close again. She threw her arms around him and hung on. He stroked her hair, and the silence that fell between them wasn’t empty in the slightest. It was more full than any words could have made it.
When her arms loosened, his did too. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers as he said reluctantly, “I have to go brief Yolanthe and Xavier.”
She straightened in her seat. “I need to be there too.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not two minutes ago you were shaking like a leaf, and you couldn’t stand upright on your own. You need rest and good food.”
She set her jaw. “I could sure as hell use a shower too, but Justine made me a part of this whole damn thing. Julian, I refuse to play the role of a helpless victim. I need to be a partner in bringing her to justice.”
At that, he gave her a fierce frown, but she met his gaze steadily, and after a moment, he said, “I understand. How about a compromise? You stay up here and look after yourself. Let me brief Xavier and Yolanthe. I’m going to have them send investigators into the tunnels to start the process of extracting and identifying bodies. I’m also going to have them start a citywide search, and I want Xavier to investigate recent helicopter activity.”
She frowned. “Helicopters don’t have to file flight plans, do they?”