Page 74 of Warrior's Cross

“Rest,” Julian repeated obediently. “Cameron?” he added in a near whisper, his voice going hoarse in a manner reminiscent of the way he had spoken when he’d first said anything to him.

“Yeah?” Cameron brushed his fingers lightly over Julian’s cheek.

“If I had to pick up and leave,” Julian said in a hushed voice, “would you go with me?”

Cameron’s pulse sped, and he had to draw in a long breath as several thoughts buzzed through his mind. But what it boiled down to was... he loved Julian. “Yeah. I think I would.”

Julian’s body seemed to relax slightly, and he sighed loudly. “Next time someone tries to kill me with a dog,” he muttered.

Cameron smiled tremulously, glad Julian couldn’t see it. “Okay,” he breathed agreeably.

Cameron took a couple vacation days from work and stayed at Julian’s house most of that weekend, venturing out only to return to his place and feed the puppies. He found himself spending most of the time trying desperately not to laugh about how miserable Julian was because of his shots and the dog bites. There was something so wrong yet so funny about such a large, stoic man whimpering about being drugged and sore.

While Julian slept off the misery, Cameron spent the rest of his time trying not to piss off Smith and Wesson, trying to get Preston to say more than a few words at a time, and trying not toworry about the things Julian had said when he’d been suffering from the effects of the painkillers.

He’d also explored Julian’s house a little, feeling almost like a small child who was up past his bedtime and snooping. He discovered there were a total of four people on staff at the house: Preston, the butler, a maid, and a cook. They were all friendly, if reserved.

On Monday Julian was up and about but doing nothing more intense than showing Cameron a secret passage that went from the study to the kitchen. It had made him laugh like a little kid as he showed Cameron how to get in and out of it.

They’d spoken no angry words, they’d not dealt with secrets or mysteries, and the most stressful thing they’d done was play with Smith and Wesson, an activity that often included screaming at the top of your lungs when one of the cats got tired of being poked and latched onto a toe or other suitably tender area.

It had been fun, spending time with Julian somewhere different but stillsafe. Thinking that, Cameron found himself more disturbed than ever.

Back to work, Cameron smoothly delivered dinner to a couple dining out on a quiet Tuesday night, answering their questions about the gourmet selections and promising to check on them soon. When he returned to the service area, Miri was waiting for him. It was her first night back after a week off to visit her family.

“How was your weekend?” she asked him pointedly.

Cameron peered at her, wondering where the attitude was coming from. “It was fine. Quiet. I took the weekend off. How was your visit home?”

“Cam,” she said in a low, serious voice. “Don’t avoid the subject I’m tactfully trying to address, okay? Did you talk with him?”

“A little,” Cameron admitted. Although he’d never minded Miri’s curiosity before, now he was uneasy. Julian had been right all those months ago; she was damn nosy.

“And?” she prodded.

“Look, I appreciate that you’re concerned,” Cameron said to her in growing annoyance. He’d just gotten comfortable with Julian again. He didn’t need Miri bringing up more tricky questions. “But it’s really not any of your business who he is or what he does.”

Miri narrowed her eyes and looked at him closely. “Did you even ask him who he is?” she asked after a moment of studying him.

“I know who he is,” Cameron said quietly. “He’s my lover, and that’s enough for me.”

Miri sighed and closed her eyes as another waiter brushed past them carrying a large tray. She waited until they were alone once more and stepped closer to Cameron. “Is he married?” she asked worriedly.

“No!” Cameron said. “He’s not married, he’s not closeted, he’s not a crook, and he’s not a danger to me,” he told her, repeating himself diligently.

“He broke his arm that one time and gets all those bruises from dealing antiques?” Miri asked flatly.

“He kickboxes,” Cameron told her, shocking himself with the lie that came so quickly to his lips. “Look, just drop it, okay?” he asked in a pained voice as he threw down his towel in frustration. “I’m happy right now. Can’t you be satisfied with that?”

She winced and reached out and took his hand gently. “I want you to be happy,” she insisted. “But what sort ofrelationship can you possibly have if you know nothing about him?” she asked. “He’s the big, bad rich guy, and you’re the poor little waiter he keeps on the side?”

Cameron sighed in exasperation and turned away from her. Every time she questioned him, all his insecurities and worries flooded back, no matter how much he tried to remember Julian’s soft words and reassurances. He stalked toward the employee workroom, knowing without a doubt that Miri would follow him.

She did, hustling after him and talking as she followed. “So far all I’ve seen is that he comes here every week and barely speaks to you, and when he was with people he knew, high-class type people, hetoldyou not to speak to him, like he’s embarrassed to be with you,” she rambled. “Plus, you don’t even know how to get in touch with him! You were at death’s door, you were so sick that one time, and he didn’t even know it!”

“He was out of town—” Cameron began to explain, but what Miri said was true. Julian hadn’t ever offered a phone number, and Cameron knew why, at least vaguely. Julian was trying to protect him. Right?

“He wasn’t out of town when you were sick,” Miri muttered. “He was here, eating dinner with Blake. Another one of his high-class friends.”

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