He looked at her a long minute. She wasn’t super by a long shot. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, wondering why she was so spooked.
They sat like that all the way to the other side.
They were over the bridge.
Ally tried to still her mind. She was, possibly, on her way to see her parents. And Sam was by her side and he’d been—
Oh, hell…
He’d been…
Their hero.
It was exasperating. Infuriating.
Mateo had stopped Paula on the shoulder to unload the film crew, who climbed back into their black Jeep. All except Sam, who unloaded a small travel bag from the Jeep and waved his good-byes and thanks to his friends. When the Jeep and the two police officers (the younger one with Chloe’s number, and, Ally couldn’t help notice, a bit of a boner) were gone, Mateo swung back onto the carriage seat. “Ready?” he called back to them. Mateo looked delighted to be out of Manhattan. He called a gentle “haw” to Paula, and the carriage started forward.
Ally tried not to fret. Modern women didn’t fret, after all. She patted Granny Donny’s hand in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “Almost there.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” Granny Donny said somewhat mysteriously. “Yes, you are finally on your way.”
A stroll in the park is one of the least civilized pursuits a true lady can undertake. What happens in London’s parks—the flirting, the stolen kisses, the bold innuendos—is nothing short of scandal.
—From The Dulcet Duke
Chapter 18
Mateo pulled Paula off the road and into Prospect Park to give her oats, rest, and shade. They were quite the crowd-pleaser in the park, the old costumed woman sitting under her parasol next to her horse and carriage.
Mateo had to wait before he gave Paula water after her oats so as not to upset her colicky stomach. To bide the time, he pulled out a soccer ball and a pair of sneakers from his box. Sam sat up at the sight of them like a dog seeing his favorite stick. Mateo rolled up his black livery pants to the knee, and Sam kicked off his dress shoes and socks and removed his silk shirt (of course). And now they were going at it, the goal marked by Paula’s feed and water buckets and Sam’s discarded footwear, while Ally and Granny Donny watched.
“Oh, dear, perhaps your gaze is upsetting the duke’s play, Princess,” Granny Donny commented as Sam got snuffed for the third time in a row.
“No. I think he’s just out of his league.” Ally felt like a Roman queen watching gladiators perform. Of course, Sam couldn’t possibly have left his shirt on. After a while, neither could Mateo. Ally took a moment to thank the sun god for his good work. Both men were beautiful, sleek and athletic. But it was Sam whom Ally couldn’t stop staring at. His shoulders were so broad, his waist so tapered. Running, diving, wrestling Mateo off the ball—or trying to, at least. Muscle, strength, speed, and power—a magnificent show of what made a man a man.
“Good thing that wasn’t a duel,” Ally said to Sam as he collapsed onto the park bench beside her, the game mercifully over. “You’d be dead.”
“He is dead,” Mateo pointed out. “I killed him. Tennil.”
“You got lucky today,” Sam said. He sat up and rubbed mud off his jeans. “Ah, excellent, a bath. Shall we?”
Ally looked at the fountain across the square, shooting water twenty feet into the air. “You can’t.”
“Of course I can. You should come in, too, Ally. Give yourself a break.”
Ally looked at the glorious fountain. She wanted to go in, and yet—yet what? She was frozen.
“Oh, go on, dear,” Granny Donny said. “Remember when you and your dear mother waded in that fountain and the constable chased you out? Oh, the scandal.”
Sam watched Ally closely. “I won’t let anyone chase you.”
“She must be remembering some book,” Ally began. But then she stopped, because she and her mother had been in this fountain. How could her grandmother not remember what century she’s in, but she could recall this? Was this trip bringing her grandmother back?
“Well, you guys can talk all day. I’m burnt.” Mateo set off for the fountain. He walked like a natural athlete, and all four of them (including Paula) watched him go with admiration.
“That man is not who he seems to be,” Sam said.
Ally was grateful for the distraction of Mateo. It gave her time to think. So, she’d gone into this fountain with her mother when she was little? She had moved on from caring. And yet, she felt hollow.
Mateo, in the distance, sat on the edge of the fountain. He kicked off his sneakers, stripped his socks, and stepped into the water like he was on the beach. He dunked his head over and over, whipping it back each time and sending a stream of water flying. He waved to them and called, “Come on, amigos! The water’s fine.” He had been like a new person after they crossed that bridge and Ally wondered at the transformation.
“You’re afraid,” Sam said to Ally. “Look, there’s a three-year-old in there. You’re more frightened than a three-year-old.”
“I’m frightened of the three-year-old. Who knows what kind of diseases he has. There’s no chlorine in there to kill the germs.”
“That’s not what you’re afraid of, Ally.”
She shook her head in denial. “Gastrointestinal illness is not fun, Sam. Shigella sonnei and Cryptosporidium parvum infections are proven side effects of improper bathing.”
Sam touched her hand. “Come in. We’ll do it together.”
“No.”
“Okay, that’s it. You’re going in just so the Shigella can kill you and save me the trouble.” He took a step toward her and she took a step back.
She yelped as he gripped her wrist.
Mateo climbed out of the fountain. Two excited young boys approached him, but Mateo shrugged them off. Ally couldn’t hear the conversation, but the boys looked suspicious of whatever Mateo told them as they whispered together, their heads touching and shaking a silent no. They tried to follow him, but he spun and faced them down and told them something not in English that made them stop. The boys went back to their game in the fountain, casting lingering looks after Mateo. Mateo picked up his shoes and started back toward them without putting them on.
Sam still had her arm, and he began to pull her toward the fountain. “Ally, you can do this. Don’t you see what’s happening here?”
“My coachman is about to contract polio, and I’m going to be abandoned in Brooklyn with my grandmother, a colicky horse, and you?”
“No. You’re going to face your deepest fears, whether you want to or not. And don’t ask me why, but I’m pretty sure they’re in that fountain.”
Mateo reached them, shaking water from his black hair and wringing out his shirt. He was soaked to the bone and didn’t seem to care. Men. He sat on the bench next to Granny Donny, let his head fall back, and began to bake dry in the sun. What did that man do when he wasn’t driving the carriage? Bench-press Paula? His body was like steel.
“C’mon, Princess. Risk almost certain death and come into that fountain with me,” Sam said. “If you die of some nasty disease, at least you’ll die a happy criminal instead of a sweaty wimp, smelling of horse and bus exhaust.”
“I do not,” she began. But then she stopped. Because the truth was, it had been a long, hot, horsy morning.
The fountain’s round base was filled with two feet of sparkling, inviting water. In the middle stood a bronze statue of a naked man and woman, back-to-back. Water spurted into the air around them. A cherubic statue of a child played around their legs and various mythical statues lounged around their feet. Sam rolled up his jeans and, without a moment’s hesitation, strode to the center of the fountain to join the happy naked romping statues, the spray raining down on his head. “This. Is. The. Life.”
Sam wet looked even better than Sam dry, no mean feat. Rivulets of water streamed down his lovely chest, down his cut abs, and into his low-riding jeans. Ally followed the lucky drops
with her eyes until they disappeared into the soaked denim that clung to him.
Sam plopped down next to one of the mythical statues, his sleek muscles a match for those of the godly companion, as if both men had been chiseled from stone. He patted the statue on the head. “I’m still alive; it can’t be all bad.”
Ally could almost feel the cool, delicious water on her skin. It must have been ninety degrees out, and the dust and grime of the road coated her. It was ridiculous not to go into the fountain because she’d done it once with her mother.
Well, maybe she’d dunk her feet. She sat down on the edge of the fountain and kicked off her sandals.
With no warning, Sam scooped her up from behind. He cradled her like a child. A very angry child.
“Put me down this instant!”
“Never!”
She hit him about his shoulders with little effect. “Sam, I am not playing along with your stupid game.” It felt deliciously good to be in his arms, the spray of water hitting her skin.
“It’s not a game. It’s a mission of mercy.” He strode to the middle of the fountain, sheets of water raining down on them. He was stonily serious, as if he understood the root of her fear and had taken it upon himself to rip it out, by force if necessary.
“If you drop me—!” I’ll hit you with my ineffective girly-fists. “Damn you, Sam. Put me down.”
Sam held her as if he could have stood there all day. As if they were normal people, having a normal conversation, in the middle of a fountain full of children and naked statues.
He was watching her, his eyes intent and blazing. “Forget the past.”
She didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to throw herself at his mercy and cry, “Yes, I’m scared.” But how could she trust him? The fact that he seemed to instinctively understand her innermost fears made him more dangerous, not less. She was determined to be the one who controlled her fear. “Oh, just drop me in, for heaven’s sake. I’m already soaked.”
“Certainly, my lady.” He lowered her gently into the water until she could feel the hard stone of the fountain’s base under her. Despite already being wet, the water was shockingly cold. It felt delicious. He said, “Whatever your heart desires. I exist to serve. Don’t worry, I’ll preserve your modesty and let you bathe in peace. I’ll pretend I didn’t see the outline of that very lacy demi-cut. Victoria’s Secret, fall collection?”
“Spring.” It felt wonderful in the water. She waited for more perilous emotions to overcome her, but they didn’t. She was fine.
Sam sat down next to her. They both leaned back onto the base of the statue. She closed her eyes.
“Really? I don’t usually misjudge these sorts of things. Let me get a closer look.” He peered down her shirt. “Love the pink. Very good-girlish. Thirty-four B?”
“Sam!” What other memories had been holding her back? What other fear could she overcome so simply? Just by saying yes?
“Ally, sleep with me tonight.”
She sat up. “You think I’m that easy?”
“I think you’re that human.”
She tried not to smile. He thinks I’m human. Why did that seem like a tremendously nice compliment coming from Sam? She felt her face flush. “I don’t know. It’s just that—”
“That you’re scared. Like going into the fountain. But then you dive in, and it feels good. Problem solved.”
Her insides shifted. She had to hold herself back from grabbing him then and there. Her mouth was too dry to speak.
He leaned in close. “I have a better idea. Don’t sleep with me.”
Disappointment filled her. Dismay, even. If it showed on her face, she would have to shoot herself.
“Send a message to the princess. Tell her Duke Black-moore will await her. Tonight. Where are we staying? I mean, where are they staying, the princess and the duke?”
“The airport Hilton.”
“Tell her to come to his room.”
“I, er, the princess…her grandmother,” she stammered. She was having trouble breathing.
“Leave her for an hour. When she’s asleep. She’ll be fine. Tell her to come to me, Ally. It won’t mean you lose our challenge because it won’t be you, and it certainly won’t be me.”
She gulped. “Sam, I—”
“You can.” He leaned close. The water around him seemed to heat. And then he kissed her
His lips were soft, yet insistent.
After a while they broke apart, and she tried to breathe again and succeeded, but now her breath was too deep. He was watching her again with his piercing gray eyes and she felt panicked to fill the silence. “So if the princess slept with the duke, it wouldn’t be me and you?”
“Certainly not. I would never sleep with you until you admit that I’m your emotional, mental, spiritual equal.”
“And I would never sleep with you, because—”
But she stopped. Because the truth was, face-to-face with dripping-wet Sam, she had forgotten why she wouldn’t sleep with him.
That the princess was indebted to the duke was inconvenient. That she enjoyed it was insufferable.
—From The Dulcet Duke
Chapter 19
An hour later they were finally dry, Paula was rested and watered, and they were back on the road.
The streets were getting grittier and narrower as they went. Ally chided herself for imagining that their trip would mimic The Dulcet Duke. Brigands would not attack them. It was absurd. And yet, their surroundings were becoming grimmer by the block. It’s broad daylight, she reminded herself.
And Granny Donny’s diamonds are sparkling in the afternoon sun.
Luckily, her grandmother had fallen asleep almost as soon as they got back into the carriage. Now she slept softly next to Ally, leaning against the carriage side.
They passed a menacing man muttering obscenities on a street corner who shook a grizzled finger at them. Ally pulled herself as deeply into the carriage as she could. Check-cashing, phone-card, lottery-ticket, and liquor stores had taken over the storefronts that weren’t boarded up or marred by shattered glass. Narrow Chinese food joints served takeout from behind what looked like bulletproof glass, the workers sliding the food out of tiny slits like bank tellers passing bills. “So, did you bring your sword?” she asked Sam as she watched a fight break out in front of a pizza parlor.
“How lewd to ask a man about his sword, Princess. You’ll have to wait for tonight to find out.”
Ally rolled her eyes. The fountain had been delicious. And that kiss. Even discussing her bra had been exciting in a way she didn’t like to admit. Still, she had no intention of sleeping with him tonight. It was absurd. Impossible.
“Don’t worry about us, Ally. I do a mean impression of John Wayne.”
“We’re going to die.”
“Maybe. But let’s enjoy ourselves until then. Let’s play twenty questions.”
“That’ll scare ‘em off.”
“It’s to get our minds off the, er, countryside.”
A car backfired and Ally jumped.
“You first. Think of something,” he said.
Two huge men threw a noisy drunk out of a liquor store. He swore and threw a bottle at the storefront. It exploded against the door, and red wine dripped to the sidewalk like blood. Ally glanced at Granny Donny, who was still asleep. “Okay. Ready. Got it.”
“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” Sam asked.
“Animal.”
“Mammal?”
“No.”
“Reptile?”
“Yes.”
He cocked his head and clucked his teeth as if running through likely reptiles, but then he asked, “What were you really afraid of? Why didn’t you want to cross that bridge? Or go in that fountain?”
“That’s not a yes or no question.”
“What happens if you let me in, Ally? Is it really that bad? C’mon, tell me. I really want to know.”
“You don’t understand twenty questions at all, do you
?”
“I don’t understand you. I want to understand you.”
He seemed sincere. What would happen if she let him in? Three police cars raced past them, their sirens wailing. Oh, hell, they were going to die anyway, she might as well spill. So she told him her grandmother’s story that her parents were waiting for her.
“And why would seeing your parents be a problem?” he asked.
“You’re not playing this right.”
“I never play by the rules. You shouldn’t either. Answer the question.”
She took a deep breath and met his eyes. What would happen if I let him in? So she told him about how her parents had run off, leaving her. She left out the gambling part, not trusting him completely. By the time she finished, the streets had become cleaner, the houses kept up. Small lawns started to appear.
“Are you green?” he asked.
“Green?”
“Twenty questions. The reptile.”
“Oh.” She had forgotten their game. “Sometimes.”
“Yes or no.”
“Sometimes.”
He looked her over. “Do you trust me even a little, Ally?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“But you hate me, too?”
Not anymore.
“Yes or no. Or it won’t count.”
“No.”
“C’mon. Yes. Say it. It’s because of your parents. I remind you of them, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“They were reckless and carefree, and they didn’t stick around to take their responsibilities seriously.”
“Yes.”
“You think I’m them. That if you let me in, I’ll abandon you just like they did.”
“I’m done playing, Sam.”
“Good. So am I.”
He tapped his foot, watching her, considering. “Do I have any questions left?”
“One,” she lied. She’d lost count.
“Can I kiss you?”
Granny Donny was asleep next to her. Mateo was listening to his iPod. The cry of “Gooooaaaal d’Argentina” escaped from his earphones, and he muttered something to himself.
How to Tame a Modern Rogue Page 13
