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Amethyst Destiny

Page 15

by Pamela Montgomerie


  His eyes were at once warm as a summer sky and hot as flame.

  “All I have is yours, Julia,” he said softly. “If ye want it.”

  She jerked her gaze away. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I shouldn’t have stared.”

  “Your staring pleased me. Dinna be sorry.” Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him pick up the pants. “Do I frighten ye?”

  “No. God, Talon, we are not having this conversation.”

  “What conversation would that be?” A hint of humor lightened his tone.

  “I’m not going to stand here discussing the merits of your penis with you.”

  His soft laughter stole some of her embarrassment. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him pull on the pants, hiding that eye-catching bit of anatomy. When she was certain he was covered, she glanced at him, careful to look only at his face.

  “Will you please turn around while I change?” She marveled at the steadiness of her words even as she wondered where the old Julia had gone. The old Julia would have demanded and expected her demands to be obeyed. Not that Talon obeyed anyone but himself.

  He did as he pleased. And he saw too much. What had he said to her last night? I do what you are too stubborn and prideful to admit you want, lass.

  Arrogant man.

  The worst of it was, he was right. Sometimes. She’d needed to be held last night even if she hadn’t realized it. What if he tried again to give her what her gaze had probably told him—wrongly—that she wanted? Him.

  No, he wouldn’t. She had to believe he wouldn’t. Beneath the sometimes caveman-like manners, he really didn’t want to hurt her. She’d learned that, too. He might steal a kiss or two, and he might try to seduce her. She wouldn’t put that past him at all. But in the end, he’d never force her.

  He’d killed four men to save her from that fate.

  She met his gaze. “Please turn around.”

  “Ye may need help.”

  “I got out of everything downstairs. I’m pretty sure I can do it again.” At his boyish look of disappointment, she smiled. “I promise to ask for help if I need it.”

  That intriguing mouth of his kicked up on one side, but he turned.

  With hands that were far more unsteady than they’d been downstairs, she untied the laces on the jacket and fought with it to get it over her head. The skirt was more cooperative. The moment she untied the string, it dropped to her feet. Lastly, she yanked off the shift, glad to have the dirty clothes off her newly clean body.

  Even with his back to her, Talon’s presence filled the room. She couldn’t shake the memory of his nakedness. Of his exquisite male beauty. And she remained intensely aware that a quick pull of the string on his pants and he’d be as naked as she was all over again.

  The thought should have revolted her. But she felt only warm, liquid heat.

  With a shuddering breath, she grabbed for the clean silk shift and pulled it over her head. Looking down, she saw her nipples poking through plainly. She reached for the skirt, but couldn’t bring herself to put on such finery to sit around in.

  The cloak might do, except she wasn’t cold and she’d roast in the thing inside. She eyed Talon’s vest and grabbed it, pulling it on over her head. It was miles too big, yet perfect, falling just below her hips, covering her breasts and all her important parts without adding too much warmth.

  “I’m done.”

  Talon turned back, eyeing her with amusement. “Ye could start a new fashion.”

  “I have a feeling this one might not take off. Now ... about that whiskey?”

  He nodded toward the table, where a lovely crystal carafe and two glasses sat. Had they been there when they walked in the room and she just hadn’t noticed?

  The way things popped in and out, there was no telling. Nor did she care.

  Talon poured them each a glass and they sat at the table, each lost to their own thoughts as they sipped at the surprisingly smooth drink. The ring knew its whiskeys.

  Talon refilled his glass. “Tell me something, Julia-lass.”

  Julia met his gaze. Her body was beginning to feel the relaxing effects of the alcohol. “What’s that?”

  “Did any of the lads ye’ve known ...”

  Julia stiffened, her relaxation flying out the window.

  “Did any of them break your heart?”

  She looked down into the amber liquid in her glass. “I don’t want to talk about them.”

  “I dinna wish to know about them. I wish to know about you.”

  Julia took a small sip of her whiskey then met his gaze. Nosy man. The whiskey slid down, warming her insides. How would he feel if she probed into his private life? The thought had her cocking her head at him with interest. “I’ll tell you what, Braveheart. A truth for a truth.”

  He lifted a single brow at her in question.

  She leaned forward. “For every truth I offer you, you have to give me one in return.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up, but his eyes held no gleam. Slowly, he nodded. “Aye. A truth for a truth.”

  Julia ran her thumb up and down her glass. “None of the boys I ... knew ... broke my heart. None of them meant anything to me at all.”

  His brows drew down thoughtfully and she realized she’d given more than a single truth. She’d told him more than she’d meant to.

  “My turn,” she added quickly.

  Talon nodded.

  “How long have you had that magic ring?”

  “Since I was a lad of fifteen. How long ago did ye know ... your last?”

  Julia groaned. “Are all your questions going to be about my sex life?”

  “I wish to understand you, lass, and I sense these lads were important. Ye may not have thought so at the time, but they’ve made ye who ye are now.”

  “A whore?”

  His eyes tightened at the word, but he shook his head. “Nay. Skittish. Uncertain of your own worth.”

  “My worth?” She kicked back half the whiskey in a single gulp, then reached for the carafe. “I’m worth plenty, dude, and don’t you forget it.”

  That intense, disconcerting gaze of his pressed into her, weighing her down. “If you ken your worth, then why did you think I wouldn’t try to save you today?”

  This was all getting way too personal. The carafe clinked against her glass as she poured, her hand refusing to steady. She set the crystal in the center of the table and settled back in her chair, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

  “I know what my worth is to me. I care what happens to me. I don’t expect anyone else to.”

  “Because ye have no one?”

  “Because I’ve never had anyone.”

  “Yer parents?”

  “Didn’t want me.” God, why was she telling him this stuff? “I’ve answered a bunch of your questions, Talon. Now it’s my turn. Where did you get your ring?”

  “A wee little man gave it to me.”

  Her mouth twisted ruefully, uncertain whether he was playing with her. But the look in his eyes was serious. And she supposed his answer made as much sense as any other under the circumstances.

  “Why do you think your parents didn’t want you?” he asked softly.

  His question pinched and she shook her head. “I get more questions. You’re ahead of me.”

  “Aye, but answer this one first. ’Tis a simple one.”

  She frowned, then shrugged. “I guess it is pretty simple. My parents didn’t want kids. My mom had her tubes tied ... an operation to make sure she never got pregnant. But it didn’t work. She got pregnant with me when she was thirty-seven. She wanted to terminate the pregnancy, but my dad talked her out of it. He didn’t want me either, but he didn’t believe in abortion ... in terminating pregnancies. I think he regretted that decision after my mom left us when I was six months old. He used to tell me I’d ruined his marriage and his life by being born.”

  Talon leaned across the table and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry for that. ’Twas a terrible
thing to tell a bairn.”

  “Yeah, well, it was the truth. Kids need the truth, right?” She shrugged. “I paid him back. I was a rotten kid.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I dinna believe it. Headstrong, mayhap, but never rotten.”

  “Oh, no, I was pretty bad, believe me. I was always getting into trouble.” She shrugged, the memories of those days leaving a sour taste in her mouth. “It was the only way I could ever get his attention.” She straightened and took another healthy sip of whiskey. “Your turn. Tell me something about your family.”

  “I have no kin.” The harsh way he said the words had her looking at him sharply.

  “None? I thought Highlanders had clans and stuff. Aren’t there any other MacClures?”

  He twirled the glass between his hands, looking down into the liquid. “I never knew any MacClure but my da. He was a broken man—a man without a clan—when he married my mum. We lived within the protection of her clan, but were never truly part of it. My da was not ... the kind of man others took to.”

  “I’m sorry. Are your parents gone, too?”

  “Aye.” He looked up at her, pinning her with that pair of Carolina blue eyes. “Now ’tis my turn. How old were you when you took your first lover?” he asked softly.

  She met his gaze and saw no judgment in those eyes. Only gentleness. Perhaps even understanding.

  She didn’t want to tell him. God, she was so through with this conversation. She shifted in her seat restlessly. But the soft snare of that gentle gaze wouldn’t let her go.

  With a sigh, she looked down into her glass. “Fourteen.”

  “How old were ye when ye took the last?”

  For no reason she could understand, her eyes began to burn with tears. Her jaw tightened. “That’s none of your business.”

  Talon leaned forward and captured her hand again, his thumb tracing light circles over the back of her hand. “Aye. But I would know. I wish to understand.”

  She pulled her hand away, leaving her glass on the table and pressing her fingertips to her closed eyelids as old misery clawed at ancient wounds. “I knew all of them within a space of four days.” Despite the press of her fingers, tears began to leak out beneath her eyelashes and she brushed them away.

  She heard him move and a moment later felt his warm hand on the back of her head, his other on her elbow. “Come, Julia-lass. I wish to ken what happened, but ’twill be easier to tell me if ye dinna have to feel my gaze on ye.”

  The feel of his hand sliding beneath her legs startled her, but before she could object, he lifted her off the chair and into his arms as if she were seven, not thirty. Then he settled onto her chair, cradling her on his lap.

  “Talon ... I’m a big girl. I really can sit by myself.”

  “Aye.” He pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “But ye fit so neatly upon my lap. Stay, Julia.” He stroked her arm and her hair with a gentle touch. “Tell me what happened.”

  What was the matter with him? What was the matter with her? Because she couldn’t bring herself to fight him. She liked sitting on his lap too much. She enjoyed letting him pet her. She should probably give some serious thought to why. But not now. Not tonight. Not when she was starting to feel enough of a buzz that the knots of tension from the awful events of the day were finally starting to loosen.

  But as comfortable as she felt on his lap, she still didn’t want to tell him her story. At the time everyone had known. Everyone.

  His big hand ran slowly up and down her arm. His chin rubbed the top of her head. She could feel him waiting for her to speak, but he didn’t push her. If he’d demanded, she might have fought him out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else. But he just waited for her to spill her heart.

  Finally she did, closing her eyes against the ugly memories.

  “I don’t know why I did it. We’d just moved to Los Angeles. A city in ... the Colonies. Kind of. It’s probably hard to imagine cities in the New World, but they’ll build them. My dad and I were always moving, the whole time I was growing up. Every six to nine months. I was never very good at making friends, but I learned early how to make my mark everywhere I went. Mostly by making trouble. I was the kid who did the things none of the others dared. When I was young, I’d make faces behind the teacher’s back or pull pranks on her. The kids, at least the bad kids, all wanted to be my friend.”

  “And when ye were fourteen, ye found another way to make them like ye,” Talon said softly, stroking her hair. “The boys, at least.” It was the raw ache in his voice that made her turn and press her cheek against the base of his throat, drinking in the warm comfort of his clean, masculine scent.

  “The first time was after school the second week of class. I’d been up to my usual pranks to get attention, but the boys in high school were smarter. One of them figured out that a girl who liked to cause trouble might like trouble of a different kind. He told me to meet him in the parking lot after school. I did.”

  The arms around her tightened. “He forced ye?”

  “No. He kissed me and I let him. Then he opened the back door of his car ... his carriage, I guess you’d call it ... and I got in. I let him, Talon. I laid there and let him while three of his friends stood guard around the car to make sure no one came and caught us. I saw them turning around, peering into the windows excitedly, watching us.

  “The next day, another of those boys asked me to meet him in the parking lot and I did it again, with him. By the third day, I was the most popular girl in school. All the boys watched me. They all tried to talk to me. And each afternoon for four days I spread my legs for one of them. Then my father found out” He’d never loved her, but the look he’d turned on her that day had been so cold that even all these years later, she shuddered at the memory. “He told me he was sending me away.”

  All the time she was growing up, all she’d wanted was his attention. The thought of losing it, of losing him, completely devastated her. He’d told her that she had a good brain, that she could be president of a company someday. Or she could get herself pregnant and throw it away, like she was trying to do.

  “I begged him to keep me. He was all I had. I promised to change if he’d give me another chance and he agreed. We moved a few months later and the boys all watched me in the new school as if they already knew what I was, but I ignored them. I had to get good grades, perfect grades, or my dad was going to throw me away.

  “I studied hard and got accepted into both of his alma maters—his colleges. Princeton and the Harvard School of Business. I don’t know if women get educated in this time, but we do in mine. I think I was hoping ...” She stopped, raking her upper lip with her teeth as comprehension flowed through her clearly for the first time. In talking about it, she was starting to understand.

  Why had she never talked about it before?

  But she knew the answer all too well. She’d never had anyone who wanted to listen.

  Talon cupped her shoulder. “Ye were hoping?”

  Julia sighed. “I think in a secret part of my heart, I’d always hoped to make him proud of me. But I never did.”

  “Perhaps ye will. Perhaps he’ll come around.”

  “No. He won’t. He died last September. I hadn’t seen him in seven years. The day I graduated from Princeton, he washed his hands of me.”

  “I’m sorry for your pain, Julia-lass. But ’twas his mistake, not yours. His loss.”

  “Thank you for saying that”

  “’ Tis the truth.”

  She fell silent as Talon’s strong hand gently stroked the misery away.

  “You’ve been pushing the lads away ever since you were fourteen,” he murmured. “Trying to please your da.”

  “I guess. But I could never have a boyfriend or a husband, Talon. I hate sex. I hate it.”

  “Aye, I imagine ye would when you’d no feelings for the lads. I imagine it was painful, too. Lads that young can be rough in their enthusiasm.”

  “It always hurt.”
r />   “It doesna have to be that way. Not with a man who kens how to bring ye pleasure. Done right, it can be a fine experience. For the lass as well as the lad.”

  She heard the shift in his tone, the way his voice moved lower, his words slow and full.

  “I’m not having sex with you, Talon.”

  He didn’t reply, just continued to pet her, easing away the misery, and calming her soul.

  He stroked her head, weaving his fingers through her hair. “Your da doesna sound like he was much of a father to ye,” he said after a time. His fingers lifted a strand of her hair and tugged gently as if he were wrapping it around his finger.

  “He provided for me. Nothing more.”

  “Who loved ye, lass? When ye were a wee bairn, who loved ye?”

  “The nannies took care of me.”

  “But they changed with every move, aye? Every six to nine months.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who loved ye?”

  “Nobody. I don’t need anyone to love me.”

  “Your parents couldna see past their own selfishness to ken ye well. To see your worth. ’Tis why ye didna think I’d come for ye today, aye?”

  Her breath left on a shudder. She didn’t want to think about today. “If the people who were supposed to love me the most barely cared if I lived or died, then no. I didn’t expect a stranger to care.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “I’m still not sure why you risked so much to come after me.”

  He met her gaze, his eyes gleaming. “Because I do see your worth.”

  She frowned. “As the tool sent to help you find your chalice.”

  “Nay, more than that. You’ve a quick mind and a courageous heart, Julia Brodie. And a bonny smile that lifts my spirits like a bright summer’s day.”

  “I could have used someone like you in my life when I was growing up.” The whiskey was making her feel comfortable and lazy. And just buzzed enough to say whatever came into her head. “Are you my friend, Talon?”

  “Aye, lass. Mayhap even more.”

  He smiled and she returned it, then leaned back against him. “Who loves you, Talon?”

 

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