“Shut up,” was the only retort Aggie could muster.
Starr’s lips brushed her shoulder and her arm circled Aggie’s waist so she could splay a hand over her lower belly. Aggie’s brow furrowed with confusion. Why did this touch feel intimate and at the same time creepy?
“Of all the people who ever claimed to love me, you’re the only one I regret hurting,” Starr said quietly.
Aggie threw off Starr’s hand and stalked across the room. “That’s the biggest load of bullshit you ever shoveled at me,” Aggie said, her heart twanging with pain. She’d gotten over Starr a long time ago, but the betrayal she’d suffered at Starr’s hand still hurt when she was reminded of it.
Starr sighed. “Believe what you must; I’m just stating facts. But your friendship means a lot to me, so I won’t ruin it again with sex. Even though all I could think about while you were whipping my cunt was your mouth on me.”
“I’m not interested.” As if Aggie would ever even consider hurting Jace by fooling around with someone like Starr. Or with anyone, for that matter.
“Are you going to tell him about us?” Starr asked.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Aggie said, striding purposely to the other room to retrieve the implements they’d used on Jace.
“Are you afraid of how he’ll react, knowing you once loved a woman?”
“No,” she said. Maybe, a little voice in her head countered. “I might tell him later.” If she wanted to send him back to that closed-off place he used to frequent.
She didn’t think he’d take her admission well. Mostly because she’d been hiding it from him for so long. He’d told her things about his past—about the deepest, darkest parts of himself—that no one else knew, and she couldn’t even tell him that she’d once been in love with a woman. Why? Would she have had the same reservations if Starr had been a man who’d broken her heart? She honestly didn’t know. A man had never broken Aggie’s heart. She’d never given one enough power over her to do so. Before Jace, she’d never loved a man. Never even considered loving a man. But she loved this man, and she refused to jeopardize their relationship. He meant everything to her. And he did have the power to break her heart. To destroy her.
“You’re afraid of losing him, aren’t you?” Starr interrupted Aggie’s turbulent thoughts.
She was surprised by the sudden tightness in her chest and the sting of tears in her eyes. “Terrified,” she said breathlessly.
“Then you should probably marry him.”
She was a touch terrified of that too. “Someday.”
Chapter Three
Aggie wrapped her arms around Jace and stole a kiss. Distracted, he kissed her back, but he didn’t seem to mean it. She gave his ass an appreciative squeeze and drew away to stare into his dark brown eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Just a bit…” His eyebrows drew together. “Cold.”
While June in London wasn’t as warm as June in southern California, it wasn’t cold. Not even close.
“Cold?”
“I’ve been cold since we left the Tower of London yesterday.” He pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Are you coming down with something?” She touched his forehead, then his cheeks. He didn’t feel feverish. “Jet lag maybe?” He’d been a bit off all day. She hadn’t even been able to convince him to join her in the shower that morning.
“Maybe,” he said and wrapped his arms around his body to hold in a hard shudder.
Because she’d wanted to play tourist, she and Jace had rented a car to make their way from London to Donington Park for Sinners’ stage performance at the Download Festival. The rest of the band had left on the tour bus the day before. Maybe Jace was just worried they wouldn’t make it to the show in time. Their set didn’t start until late that night and driving across England wasn’t quite the same as driving across the United States.
“We’ll make it. We just have one more castle I want to see, and it’s only an hour and a half to the venue from there.”
“Another castle?” He grinned crookedly. “I’ve seen a different side of you these past two days. I never knew you were such a history buff.”
“History is so dark.”
He chuckled. “Just the parts that interest you.”
At her insistence, they’d spent the night in Mailmaison Oxford Castle—a creepy castle that had been used as a prison; their room had once been a cell. Jace had been a bit skittish the entire time, claiming some presence was lurking around him. She’d laughed his claims off, and he’d gone quiet on her, internalizing as he did when he didn’t think anyone understood where he was coming from. She’d wanted to play tourist and had easily talked Jace into seeing some real dungeons, but while he’d started their adventure with enthusiasm yesterday morning, he’d been uneasy and listless the rest of the day. A restless night’s sleep hadn’t improved his disposition.
“Are you having any fun?” she asked.
“Do you really think I’d have fun touring the English countryside looking at old castles?”
“And dungeons,” she reminded him.
His gaze lowered, and he smiled. “But not the good kind of dungeons.”
“We don’t have to leave home for the good kind. If you want to go directly to Donington and skip our last stop—”
He tipped his head to rest his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. They stayed like that a long moment while he mulled over his thoughts. They’d been together long enough that she knew he wasn’t ignoring her when he was silent. He was merely thinking. At first, her natural instinct to demand a reaction had made it difficult for her to give him these quiet moments of contemplation, and they’d gotten into plenty of arguments over it, but she now understood if she gave him a moment to put his thoughts in order, he would share them with her. Eventually.
“I’m not having fun, not exactly,” he said.
Her heart sank with disappointment.
“But I am enjoying my time alone with you away from the insanity of the tour. Even if I have to listen to history lessons all day, at least the British accents are entertaining.”
Aggie chuckled. “What would you rather do?”
“Well, that would require one of those fun dungeons, but since I haven’t seen one of those since we arrived, I’m content following your evil guidebook.”
She pulled the dog-eared copy of Tour the Scandals of England from the back pocket of her jeans. “Not evil. Just a bit naughty.”
They were working their way through the Tudor period, visiting sites where noteworthy members of society had done their dirty deeds or been punished for them.
“What’s next?” he asked, his strong fingers sneaking under the hem of her T-shirt to stroke the bare skin of her back.
Pretending not to be affected by that simple touch, Aggie flipped to the next stop on their self-directed tour. “Sudeley Castle, once home of Queen Katherine Parr. Only six months after the death of her husband, King Henry the Eighth, she married Thomas Seymour.” She glanced up from her reading and met Jace’s eyes. “Any relation?”
He shrugged. “Not that I know of. My father’s family was originally from England, so maybe, but I really doubt it. Do I look like royalty to you?”
“You’re king of my domain.”
He chuckled. “That’s more power than the King of England could ever claim.”
She shifted on her feet. It was hard for her to admit that he held power over her. Not because he dominated her but because she loved him so much, she knew she’d do anything necessary to be with him. Not a comfortable position to find herself in, but Jace was worth the compromise. Unequivocally worth it.
“Let’s go check out your ancestral home,” she said and tapped his leather-encased arm with her book. “Maybe you’re a baron or a duke and never even knew it.”
He chuckled. “If I’m related to Thomas Seymour of Sudeley Castle, I’m sure my branch of the family tree was sawed off centuries ago.”
>
“We can pretend; it’ll be fun,” she said and kissed him gently before opening the rental car’s door and slipping inside. She inexplicably had a steering wheel in front of her. Crazy backwards cars. Grinning sheepishly, she slipped back out of the car and said, “I changed my mind. You should drive.”
“You meant to do that, did you?” He winked at her knowingly.
“Of course,” she said and hurried around to the other side of the car.
In her wrong-side-of-the-car passenger seat, she unfolded the large map of England and traced the road they’d be traveling to their next destination. “It’s about a hundred kilometers from Oxford,” she told him when he settled into the car beside her.
He scowled. “Which is how many miles?”
“Sixty or so.”
“That’s not far.”
Once they were on the main road, they settled into a comfortable silence for several miles. It had been weeks since they’d been completely alone without interruptions. She enjoyed touring with his band all over Europe, but she was looking forward to getting back home in October. She missed her dungeon and her customers, but mostly she missed quiet evenings with Jace and his silly cat, Brownie. They’d had to leave the feline behind when the tour had brought them to Europe.
“I’m glad I decided to take a day off,” she said, watching his face while he concentrated on driving on the wrong side of the road.
He glanced at her and smiled. “Me too. You’ve been working so hard on filling orders for corsets that I hardly see you without a needle in your hand.”
Her business was definitely keeping her busy. Too busy. She’d collected so many orders while the band was touring the U.S. that she had enough to keep her fingers sore for months. She was horribly behind in her embroidery work, but everyone needed a day off every now and then, so she didn’t feel too guilty.
“I’ve been thinking of working with some other fabrics. The silk corsets on display at that museum this morning were gorgeous.”
“I like yours better,” Jace said with a sheepish grin.
Hers were all made of leather, so of course he liked them better. He rarely went without his leather motorcycle jacket. And that was another thing she missed—riding behind him astride his rumbling Harley. But sitting on the wrong side of the car and taking in the sites was fun too. Smiling to herself as they passed through a quaint village, she caressed the platinum band of the solitaire engagement ring on her finger. Every moment with Jace brought her joy. She’d never thought she’d fall in love with a man. She definitely never thought one could hold her heart so completely and that she’d actually relish the feeling. She still pretended to be a badass dominatrix, but she’d come to terms with having an uncharacteristic soft spot for Sinners’ silent bass player the day he’d crumpled at her feet and begged for mercy.
They arrived at their destination without mishap. Jace parked in a small lot. Through the trees, Aggie caught a glimpse of the enormous sandstone castle.
“I’ve seen this place before,” Jace said.
“I thought you’d never been to England before.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t. I must have seen a picture of it or something. It looks familiar.”
He opened his door and climbed out. He paused before the car’s hood and stared up at the stone façade of the immense structure. Still inside the car, Aggie saw a shudder ripple through his entire body. He took a hesitant step in the direction of the castle. And then another.
He was halfway down the path to the gardens before Aggie opened the car door and climbed out. “Didn’t you forget something?” she called after him.
He froze and turned to look at her. His breathing was uncharacteristically rapid and shallow. For a second he seemed not to recognize her. He lifted a hand to massage the golden hoop in one ear and tilted his head. “What did I forget?”
“Me!”
He held out a hand, and she trotted toward him to take it. As soon as his fingers wrapped around hers, he hurried down the walkway toward the entrance. After having to drag him through attractions for two days, his sudden change in enthusiasm baffled her.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked as he bounded the steps and swung the entrance door open.
“We’re going to miss the last tour,” he said, pointing at a sign.
This week only—Rare opportunity to tour the castle’s private living quarters at 11 am, 1 pm and 3 pm. Tour space is limited.
So maybe he was having a better time than he’d let on. Or maybe there was something unique about this place. She wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry to catch another tour.
Luckily for them, there was space in the tour due to a last-minute cancellation. As they moved from room to room and the guide droned on about dates and lords and ladies, Aggie watched Jace with more curiosity than she held for any artifact or tidbit of historical information. Even though his eyes scanned every inch of every room, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the tour. As they made their way through the luxurious castle, his stride became more and more stiff and his brow furrowed deeper and deeper with displeasure.
“Jace,” she whispered as he glared at a set of drapes, “is something bothering you?”
“This is all wrong,” he said. “She wouldn’t approve of any of this.”
“Who?”
“Katherine.”
Aggie stiffened. “Who the fuck is Katherine?” While Aggie trusted him, she sure didn’t like the name of another woman tumbling affectionately from his delectable lips.
Jace stared at her wordlessly for a long moment. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have said he didn’t know who she was.
“Jace?”
He closed his eyes, shook his head, and shuddered violently. The tour group had entered another room by the time he flipped his eyes open to look at her again. “Aggie?”
“You’re acting weird,” she said.
“I’m feeling weird. It’s like I’ve been here before, but nothing is exactly how I remember it.”
“Déjà vu?”
“I guess. I’ve never felt this way about a place before.” He wrapped his arms around his torso and rubbed his upper arms. “It’s chilly in here, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t. She touched her fingers to his forehead to check again for fever. She almost hoped he was coming down with the flu; at least his odd behavior would have an explanation. “You don’t feel feverish, but I have to admit you’re sort of freaking me out,” she said.
He released a soft laugh. “You and me both, babe.”
“Should we go? Maybe you should lie down for a while before you have to be onstage.”
“No,” he said hastily. “I like it here. I want to see every inch of the place, even though something feels a bit off and I don’t know why that would be.”
“Maybe you were here as a small child and that’s why you remember it. And things look different to the adult you.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug.
She got the feeling he was only saying that to make her feel better about the bizarreness of what he was explaining, and she truly appreciated him for soothing her fears.
Based on appearances, the castle wasn’t the least bit creepy. The décor was elegant and inviting, the ceilings high and the rooms filled with abundant natural light from the enormous windows. But she couldn’t deny the shivers racing along her spine or the goose bumps on her arms. Maybe it was a little chilly in here.
At least she thought so until Jace leaned closer and captured her lips in a heated kiss. Nope. Not chilly in the castle at all. A bit too warm, if anything.
The chandelier overhead creaked. Aggie tugged her mouth from Jace’s and glanced up at the enormous light fixture, her heart hammering.
“Are you sure you like it here?” she asked, taking his arm and moving him out from beneath the inexplicably swaying chandelier.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s like I belong here or something.”
She knew he
didn’t get that feeling often. Hell, he hadn’t even felt like he belonged in his band, and it was obvious to everyone but him that he was tailor-made to fit their ranks. She patted his back and smiled, truly happy that he found a place that he connected to, no matter how many heebie jeebies were tickling her belly.
“Maybe you really are related to that Seymour guy. We should ask about him.”
Expecting him to disagree, he surprised her by smiling brightly and nodding. “Yeah, I think I will.”
They caught up with the tour group in the next room. Aggie stared at Jace in disbelief as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers to gain the tour guide’s attention.
“Yes?” the woman asked, her head cocked slightly.
“Did someone named Thomas Seymour live here at one time?”
“Indeed,” the guide said. “I usually talk about him in the chapel where his wife, Queen Katherine, is buried.”
“His wife is buried there, but he isn’t?” Jace asked.
“He was executed for treason less than a year after her death. Quite the scoundrel, that one. Well, depending on whom you ask.” She giggled.
“Oh,” Jace said flatly. His eyebrows scrunched together. “Would you mind telling me where he was executed?”
“In the Tower of London.”
“Wasn’t everyone?” an older man in the tour group asked, which elicited a round of laughter.
Jace didn’t look amused. A bit nauseated maybe, but not amused.
Sinners at the Altar Page 35
