Page 91 of Warrior's Cross

Cameron tipped his head in a brief nod and set the specials card between them. “Right away, sir,” he murmured before he strode away to get the wine and glasses.

Somewhere deep inside he reeled at being so close to Julian again and not being able to do anything about it. But he knew he couldn’t let that little bit of himself out. He justcouldn’t. If he did, there would be no reining it in again. That fear he’d always felt on Julian’s behalf, the fear that his lover would be hurt or even killed, was back full force. As Cameron re-entered the service area, he realized that he felt it even though he wasn’t with Julian anymore—and that he’d much rather feel it beingwithJulian.

“What are they saying?” Miri demanded in a hushed whisper as she and Sylvia crowded around him.

“You should be working,” Cameron said sharply as he walked to the fine wines cabinet and pulled out the best wine the restaurant offered. He carefully wiped down the bottle and picked up two glasses and set it all on the tray. But he had to pause as his hands shook enough that the classes touched together with a quiet chime.

“Jesus,” Sylvia muttered as she looked at the expensive wine.

“What, are they on a date?” she added distractedly.

“Don’t ask,” Cameron muttered darkly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Miri said to him in a hushed voice. “You canseethe tension over there. I could cut it with one of Jean-Michel’s knives!”

Cameron picked up the tray, righting the slight bobble and then pausing for a steadying breath. “They’re just customers,”he said, reminding himself as well as them. He left the girls behind and carried the tray to the table, setting it on the nearby stand before presenting the linen-wrapped bottle.

Lancaster looked down at it and nodded his head at Julian. “Let him try it, if you please,” he requested.

Julian continued to stare at him wordlessly. Both of his hands were resting on the table in front of him; Cameron knew he usually kept at least one of them in his lap when he ate. He also knew why, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Lancaster sat with both of his hands above the table as well. They reminded Cameron of Old West poker players, always keeping their hands in sight. Miri was right; the tension was palpable.

Cameron set down the bottle as he pulled out the corkscrew. He opened the bottle efficiently, surprised his hands weren’t shaking anymore, let it air for a moment, and then poured a couple sips’ worth into one of the glasses before offering it to Julian without a word.

Cameron finally let his eyes settle on his ex-lover, and he felt a pang of longing so strong it almost doubled him over.

Julian still stared at Lancaster intently, his entire body coiled and tense. Finally, he dragged his eyes away and took the glass. He looked up to Cameron, and in his dark eyes there was a spark of something Cameron had never seen there.

It might have been . . . fear.

Julian sipped at the wine and nodded his silent approval. Cameron couldn’t do anything but stand there, the bottle clutched in one hand, after he saw that look in Julian’s eyes. He wondered if it was a reaction to his presence or to Lancaster’s. Cameron made himself look over to the other man and offer the wine bottle.

Lancaster nodded without looking at him, waving his hand through the air as he smirked at Julian. “So, what willit be, Julian?” he asked smoothly. “The special?” he asked sarcastically.

Cameron took up the empty glass silently and filled it just over halfway before setting it down in front of Lancaster carefully.

Lancaster’s words and tone scared him—the man had obviously researched Julian somehow. He seemed to know him well. Cameron swallowed and tried not to flinch.

Lancaster took the glass and held it up, as if ready to make a toast.

He smiled at Julian, his eyes warm and friendly even though Cameron instinctively knew it was a mask.

“What was that toast you taught me, Jules?” Lancaster asked Julian with a smile. “Something very Irish,” he mused as he tried to remember it.

Julian stared at him, obviously having no intention of answering.

Cameron glanced at Julian carefully as he lifted Julian’s glass, filled it as well, set it down along with the bottle, and waited silently, although he edged away from the table. He had taught this man toasts? Picturing Julian with a boisterous crowd of drunks, reciting “very Irish” toasts didn’t seem right to Cameron. Had he truly known his lover even a little bit? He moved a half-step backward.

“May those who love us love us,” Lancaster said suddenly as he held up his wine. “And those that don’t love us, may God turn their hearts. And if He doesn’t turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles, so we’ll know them by their limping.”

Julian pursed his lips, leaning forward slowly and finally resting his elbows on the table as he looked across at the other man. His dinner companion leaned forward to meet him with relish.

“You really think this is how it works?” Julian asked in a low, dangerous voice. The Irish accent sent a shiver through Cameron’s body, and he couldn’t help but stare at Julian, wondering how many other things he had never known about the man. “You think you can come into my city without retribution?” Julian continued. “You think you’ll make it to dessert?” he practically snarled.

Lancaster’s smile vanished, and he gave one quick nod of his head.

“You should have thought of that before you taught me everything you knew,” he murmured in a voice to match. “The special?” he asked in a completely different tone as he sat back. He nodded again. “We’ll both have the special,” he told Cameron with a smug, satisfied smile.

Cameron’s eyes bounced back and forth between them, and he could only nod jerkily. “The salad will be out shortly,” he said. It came out weak to his ears. He collected the menus and turned away. As he did so, he saw Julian raise his own wine-glass and hold it up to Lancaster. “To your limp, Arlo,” he said solemnly.

---