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ELIZABETH
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CHRISTIAN ENESCU WAS a striking man, even more so because he wasn’t comely in a classical sense of masculine beauty. About six feet tall, he had the perfect body of an athlete, long, jet black hair tied in a ponytail and radiant skin. Still, his angular facial features, piercing dark eyes, strong nose and squared jaw spoke of tough, hard manliness and steely strength rather than of dashing handsomeness.
In spite of having the manners of a perfect gentleman—I attributed it to his wealthy aristocratic ancestors, who had emigrated from Romania to Switzerland several generations ago, as I’d heard—he was definitely not a man who you would want to cross. Blue blood and all, there was an aura of brutal power, danger and secrecy surrounding Christian Enescu. Alluring and unsettling at once, like a perilous yet irresistible adventure.
I’d felt it when we met three years before, in Budapest. Yet, I didn’t feel uncomfortable in his company, sensing that no danger would come to me from him. In a strange way, I felt safe and protected by his commanding presence. He was a man who you could rely upon. I couldn’t explain these conflicting impressions, but then, I’d known almost nothing about Christian, except that Rick and Alain liked and trusted him.
Back then, he had helped me track down a stained-glass artist who had a sheet of antique red glass for sale. Unfortunately, when we arrived in Budapest, it was Sunday. The studio was closed, and the owner had gone fishing on the Danube River. Christian had found him in less than an hour. The price was hefty, but I got my glass.
I caught my plane at the last moment, but I had the feeling that Christian wouldn’t have minded if I’d missed my flight.
He’d phoned me several times in the following weeks suggesting subtly he’d like to know me better. I’d had a boyfriend then, however, so I equally subtly turned him down.
I was sure Brian had Lily Falconer do a background check on Christian before he had appointed him as my assistant, but even Lily couldn’t dig out such personal details. Had Brian sensed them, Christian would have never been brought to Rosenthal.
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THESE WERE MY THOUGHTS on Monday morning as I closed the short distance between my house and the office, where Christian was waiting for me.
He was sitting at his desk but stood up as I stepped in.
“Elizabeth!” He walked toward me and smiled, revealing a set of brilliant white and perfectly straight teeth. The smile softened his sharp facial features. It was hard to say his age. Mid-thirties? Late thirties? Early forties? He wore glasses now, and although they were fashionable, they made him look a decade older than I remembered.
I wasn’t surprised when his hand reached for mine and brought it to his lips. Christian had greeted me in the same manner when we first met. Yet, as his fingers touched mine, I gasped in shock.
His skin was warm, much warmer than mine. My senses recognized the sensation: the touch of Lani’s hand, Tristan’s handshake, Liv’s peck on my cheek.
A Tel-Urugh.
I lifted my head and met two dark, smiling eyes.
“It’s a great pleasure, vardanni,” he said and bowed his head.
I opened and closed my mouth several times before I was able to stutter, “You know? But ... but how?”
Any further conversation had to be aborted because the door opened and my young secretary, Marlowe, walked in. “Are you early or am I late?” she said, then looked at Christian and blinked. “Er, good morning.”
I took a deep breath to calm my frantic heart down. “Marlowe, let me introduce you to Mr. Enescu, my colleague. As you know, he and I are going to work together on the Baker Block. Christian, this is Marlowe Li, my administrative assistant.”
Christian took a step forward, his hand outstretched, this time for a handshake. “I suppose you’re now my assistant as well. My pleasure, Miss Li.”
She shook his hand, blushing. “Yes. Well, I suppose. Nice to meet you, Mr. Enescu. I... I’m going to make coffee,” she muttered and dashed toward the kitchenette at the back of the office.
“We’ll talk later,” Christian said to me in a low voice. With a gentle push, he set me toward my desk, taking a place on the chair across from me.
For the next half an hour we talked about the job. I was giving him a brief account of the project, but questions buzzed in my head like a swarm of bees.
Does Brian know? Surely not. He would have told me, wouldn’t he? How come Lily didn’t figure it out? Does Christian know Livia and Tristan? Or somebody else from Copper Ridge or Red Cliffs?
I forced my mind to return to our conversation. “I’ve started with City Hall,” I said. “It needs the most extensive renovations. Next week we’ll begin working on the movie theater. I found the photos with the original plasterwork. A small local company will replicate it.”
Is Christian appointed as my protector? Do I need protection?
I couldn’t know if he guessed my distressing thoughts, but his calm face didn’t broadcast it if he did. “I understand you’re planning to restore it to its authentic look, right?” he asked.
Brian will go berserk when he realizes who Christian is.
“As much as possible,” I said. “The original woodwork, such as balcony seating, was made of rosewood timber, which is hard to find these days. We’ll use walnut.”
“Your favorite timber, if memory serves.”
The gurgling sound of the coffee machine indicated the brewing was over. Marlowe jumped to her feet and hurried to the kitchenette.
“Back in Budapest, did you know what I was?” I asked quietly.
He slowly shook his head. “No. If I had, I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight. Besides, I couldn’t have known, since you weren’t aware of it. When did you start noticing your, er, uniqueness?”
“A few months ago. Here, in Rosenthal. It was only a prelude, some little off things, here and there, and then I went to Copper Ridge—”
I stopped as Marlowe returned with a tray loaded with mugs, sugar and cream.
“How do you like your coffee, Mr. Enescu?” she asked and blushed.
“With a little bit of sugar,” he said and smiled.
Marlowe’s face turned crimson.
Between the constant flow of people through our office, telephone calls, email messages and visits to the restoration site, we didn’t have time for a private conversation until evening.
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CHRISTIAN WALKED ME home.
Questions were bubbling up in my head but before I decided which one to pick, Christian said, “A while ago, I noticed that someone had tampered with my email account. It was a pure coincidence. My computer crashed, otherwise I wouldn’t know.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Alain’s message, asking you if you knew one Khalid Nouri.”
“Yes. One I didn’t remember receiving. I was trying to retrieve the content of my hard drive and found it there. It wouldn’t have been suspicious by itself if there hadn’t been my ‘reply’ as well, and that I definitely didn’t remember sending. Alain asked me if I had ever heard of Khalid Nouri, and I replied that not only did I, but I also worked on several projects with him. I apparently had a very high opinion of Mr. Nouri’s professional as well as private persona.”
I laughed. Not even the Copper Ridge computer geek could predict this small technology glitch and its consequences.
Intrigued, he’d conducted his own investigation, Christian said. To my utter astonishment, I heard that the first thing he’d done was to come to Rosenthal and follow me for a week. He’d found out Mrs. Fontaine was gwerin and that she had figured out who I was. He realized she’d been trying to connect me with the Langaer. Once assured I was okay, he’d concentrated his efforts on Khalid Nouri. It didn’t take him long to figure out Khalid’s true identity and the background story.
“We’ve never met in person, but I’ve heard about Brian Canagan. Very few people from our world haven’t. I’m not sure if you know about a civil war between Tel-Urughs that happened about sixty years ago. Some werewolves and wizards helped us to stop an army of very bloodthirsty Tel-Urughs, led by one Salvatore de Burgos. He wanted to take control over our entire population, as well as humans. Brian was one of the key figures of that conflict, along with Gottfried Vandermeer. They convinced their people to fight alongside us. Without their help, we would have been doomed.”
It sounded very much like Brian, I thought as my heart swelled with love.
We were in front of my house. “Want to come in for a cup of tea? Or perhaps something stronger?” I asked.
“Sure, something stronger would be nice,” he said with a smile.