Irresistible Knight

by Tierney O'Malley

  Bors realized where the conversation was heading and quickly remedied it. “I'm just talking about what happened in the past with my sibs. Kirsten ate something she was allergic to and nearly died because of it. Luckily Julie, my sister-in-law was smart enough to use the epipen on her. That was how their friendship started. But Kirsten was taken to the hospital anyway. Tristan ended up in the hospital, too, when he landed on a sharp part of a broken tree. The thing was like a sword as it pierced his side. He survived and woke up in the hospital. See? Hospitals mean something bad happened.”

  “Were you even taken to a hospital?”

  “Yeah, but for minor stuff. Broken ankle, wrist, cuts.”

  “Poor baby. You must have been a rapscallion growing up.”

  “Made me tougher. So, Miss Jean, we could go shopping for what you need and then maybe go for a walk down to the beach. The sun's shining. I'd hate to waste a beautiful day.”

  “I don't know about shopping, but I'm good on walking. Maybe the view would help me think about what to tell Judge Knight about my dad.”

  “That's what I'm thinking.”

  “I need to figure out my problem. When I left Jean's home, I thought my plan was as tight as Ocean's Eleven. Talk to your dad and Jean would be out of the hole he dug for himself and then I could start living without having to worry that someone is out there waiting for a chance to trap dad or hurt him. How stupid I am to think that a simple talk with a judge would fix my problem right away.”

  “You're not stupid. Just not George Clooney.”

  “Or Julia Roberts.”

  “You're prettier than her though.” Fuck. For the first time since he started working on Jean's case, he hated the topic about the man. Bors squatted in front of Taylor, pushed the wayward lock of hair out of her face, and placed his fingers beneath her chin. “Baby, don't you think Jean should at least pay for what he's done or still doing right now? He is selling girls.”

  “I know that, Bors. That's why I need your dad's help. I don't want him to go to jail. He'll die there. God, I don't know. Maybe a house arrest or something, but not jail time. Bors, Jean is a good dad. I want the world to know that. I want them to see him as that.”

  Too fucking late and impossible to happen. Wrapping his arms around Taylor's waist, he rested his cheek on her lap. How could he tell her Jean didn't need help, he needed to be punished. And he, of all the people, was first in line to see it from happening. “Baby, Dad is just. What he can give you is a sound advice. But I am telling you now, Jean's fate is out of his hands. You need to prepare yourself for this—good or bad, he will serve his time.”

  “If that's the case, I'm willing to go back to living with him. If keeping him out of jail means rotting in his home, living my mundane life, I'll do it. I love my father that much. I'll do what I can to make him stop. Maybe pester him every day, make him crazy.”

  “And what about your conscience? Can you live your life knowing your father is stealing daughters away from their homes, their parents?”

  “I'm sorry that Dad's business is hurting other people, but blood is thicker than water. I wouldn't let my father go to jail. Bors, I already lost a mother, I won't lose a father, too.”

  “Be reasonable. If Jean's in jail, then that means you know where he is. So technically, you didn't lose him.”

  “But he'll be in my conscience, too. And if he dies in there? What then? I don't know if the public knows this, but when he went to Thailand, he had triple bypass surgery there.”

  “No, I never heard about that.” It was true. Jean must have spent tons of money to keep the surgery under the rug. Shit, the man was as good as Bin Laden when it came to hiding information.

  Bors looked up. He stared at Taylor's eyes. The pain he saw in there hit him in the gut. He didn't like it. He wanted to erase the pain. Worse, the words to promise to give what she wanted balanced at the tip of his mouth.

  Fucking hell.

  “What's wrong? You know, you don't have to get involved in this.”

  Oh, God. He was very much involved in this as she was. “Nothing's wrong, babe.”

  “Bors, if watching me, which you keep on insisting, will affect your job, then maybe you should—”

  “Don't worry about my job. I took a leave of absence.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Isn't it obvious?”

  “Bors...”

  “Taylor...” he said, mimicking her tone, making her laugh. “So how come you're not excited about shopping? Women love to shop, I thought.”

  “Do your mom, sister, and sister-in-law love to shop?”

  “I don't think so. Julie likes to stay home and write, Kirsten is addicted to designing, and my mom hardly goes out.”

  “So your idea that women love to shop came from...”

  “Teta.”

  “Ha! I talked to her last night. She told me she plays bingo, likes to visit pawnshops for guns, and the shooting range.”

  “Okay, fine. Forget that I said women love to shop. Tell me why you don't like the idea. Last night you were wishing that you had another pair of jeans with you.”

  “Not that I don't want to go shopping. It's just that I don't have money to spend. I'm poor.”

  “Very. You're homeless, unemployed, penniless, shoeless, chauffeurless ... tsk, tsk. Poor, poor, Taylor.”

  “Stop it. I'm being serious here.”

  “Me, too.”

  Taylor pinched his arm.

  “Yeoww!”

  “Ouch! Troll, I'll get a bruise.”

  “Sorry.” He kissed the spot that he bit. It was already red. “You were saying?”

  “I know how difficult it is to be poor, but knowing is far different than experiencing it. To think about where to get my next meal ... is really hard.”

  “Babe, as long as I'm here, you won't go hungry. I'll get anything that you want as long as I could afford it.”

  “That's very nice of you, but I can't depend on your charity.”

  “Who says I'm giving you food, transportation, shopping spree for free. You have to earn them.”

  “How?”

  “Since you are poor and unemployed, you could work as my housemaid. Keep this house clean.”

  “And warm up your bed.”

  “You want to add that to your job description?”

  Taylor chewed her bottom lip and crinkled her brows. “I don't know. Maybe I should post that at Craig's List. I might get a better—” Taylor screamed when Bors grabbed her sides and tickled her.

  “The hell you will.”

  “Stop! Okay, be serious.”

  “I'm serious.”

  “About the job description?”

  “Everything.”

  “Why are you so nice to me?”

  “You already know the answer to that. I like you. So I think we should get ready. Unless you want to go back to bed and forgo the walk through the woods to see the alcove down the beach.”

  “As much as I love your heavenly bed, I'd like to feel the sun on my skin and get a nice tan. I don't want Paige from Tweed's to see me looking as pale as a bag of flour. She likes my tan, you know.”

  “Tan? You're kidding, right. This is your natural skin color.”

  “It is. But I told Paige ... oh never mind. It's a woman thing.”

  “She assumed you are a fan of tanning salons. Good hearted as you are, you decided to go along.”

  “Kind of like that.”

  “Hmm ... I know this light brown caramel-colored skin is real.” He began inching his hands inside her shirt until he reached her breasts. What he found hardened his dick instantly. “Not a big fan of bras?”

  “Confining. Mine aren't like papayas that need support anyway.”

  “Oh, baby, yours are perfect.” To prove his words, he cupped her breasts, gently squeezing the mounds he wanted so badly to leave. “Firm enough to fill my hands and with beautiful nipples.” He lifted her shirt and licked one hard pink nipple.

  “Bors ... oh
hh...”

  He sucked her hard enjoying the feel of her nipple rolling in between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. “Hmm ... like that, beautiful?”

  “Yes.”

  It was what he wanted. Bors looked up to gaze at Taylor's flush face. Her eyes were already glazed from banked heat. He stood and took her violin and bow and placed it on the nearby table. Before Taylor could protest, he was back kneeling in front of her. “We'll make it to the beach before the sun goes down.”

  * * * *

  Dressed in Bors's plaid long sleeved shirt and sweatpants with rolled up hems, Taylor kept her hold on Bors's hand as they walk side by side along the grass-covered path. The smell of pine needles, wet grass, Puget Sound, and dirt mingled in the air, and she loved it. Critters skittered from one tree to the next. Bird mating calls came from different directions. They all sound wonderful.

  Taylor plucked a leaf from a rhododendron so tall and bushy it looked like a tree and not a bush. She let go of Bors's hand and stopped to admire the white bells blooming beneath a wild bush. “I could almost imagine fairies living here.”

  “Hmm. Kirsten said that, too, when she was little and found a patch of those white bells. Girls think alike, huh?” Bors adjusted the sling pack he carried.

  “I suppose in some areas. This is like untouched paradise.”

  “Right on paradise. Untouched? Not really. Developers have been coming here, checking out the land to build condos. But the Orcas's community refuses to budge. We like to control the growth of population in this area.”

  “Don't you think you're being selfish? For not sharing this place to the outsiders.”

  “If developers take over then this place would be available only for private residents. Nature, animals, Fawn, they all have the right to live like us. Do you think it would fair for them if the developers started cutting down hundred-year-old trees for the sake of investments? The town council is formed to protect what you see here. So people from all over the world can come and enjoy this. I don't think we're being selfish.”

  “Bors Knight, are you a tree hugger?”

  “A tree climber, too. My brothers and I used to climb all kinds of trees. We liked to think of ourselves as Robin Hood.”

  A blue jay flew by making weird noises. Another one perched too close to where they stood. “What do you suppose is happening? Maybe trouble in the nest?”

  Bors walked closer to the blue jay. The two birds joined together. They looked agitated, flapped their wings and let out what seemed to be a distress call.

  “There's the problem.”

  “What?” Taylor made a move to follow but Bors motioned for her to stop.

  “A baby jay is on the ground. Here, take my pack.”

  Taylor took the pack and slung it across her shoulder. “I don't see it.”

  “Hang on. Baby jays start as grayish or ashen colored chicks. When the feathers are longer, you could mistake them for baby crows. I have a bandanna in the pack, will you please get it for me?”

  Taylor found the red bandanna right away and handed it to Bors. She watched him rub it on the grass before he gingerly covered the bird.

  One of the birds screeched, then flew real close to Bors's head.

  “Watch out. I think they're the parents. Mad parents.”

  “Yup. They're trying to protect their baby. Come closer. Look at this thing. Have you ever seen such an ugly bird in your life?”

  “Oh, my God. Are you sure that's a baby bird and not some aliens’ spawn? Are those the would-be feathers? They look like porcupine quills.”

  Bors laughed. “Good observation. Ugly, huh? But those parents love this baby so we have to put this ugly thing back into the nest.”

  “Do you see a nest?”

  “Yup. See up there where the two branches formed a V?”

  “Oh, I see it. It's pretty high. Amazing how little Porky survived.”

  “Porky?”

  “Better than ugly.”

  Bors grinned, then leaned over for a quick kiss. “Alright, Porky is going back to the nest.” He tied the two ends of the bandanna around his neck.

  “Um, is that necessary?” Taylor looked at the little lump move.

  “Any ideas?”

  “No. Please be careful.”

  “Hmm ... are you beginning to like me, Miss Jean?”

  “No. I just don't want you to hurt yourself and not be able to put Porky back in the nest because I definitely wouldn't be—”

  Bors kissed her square in the mouth. “I'll be careful.”

  Heart in her throat, Taylor watched Bors grab one branch, then another until he came close to the nest. When his foot slipped, she screamed, scaring the momma and papa jays. “I told you to be careful, you troll!”

  Bors looked down and let go of his hold on a branch. He swayed back and forth. “Ahh!”

  “Bors!”

  “Just kidding, babe. I'm okay.”

  “Troll! I hate you. If you fall and crack your neck, I'm not calling nine-one-one.”

  “You lie. Okay, Porky is back in the crib. I'm coming down. Wanna catch me?”

  “And flatten me like a pancake? You're handsome, but no way I'm gonna break your fall, honey.”

  Bors managed to climb down as easily as he climbed up. “What did you call me?”

  “Troll.”

  “Yeah, that, too. But I'm talking about when you said I'm handsome. You called me...”

  “Honey.”

  “Say it again.” Bors wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Honey.”

  “God, you made that word sound so sweet and good.”

  “It's just a word, honey. So, do you think Porky's going to be okay? Hello?”

  “Oh, I hope so. The parents aren't flying around to attack me anymore. I didn't touch the baby or the nest. They don't like human scent. So, I think they're not going to abandon the babies.”

  “There are more little porkies in the nest?”

  “Yeah. Ready to say goodbye to Porky?” He took the pack from her and stared at Taylor.

  “What?”

  “I just realized you look like a hobo in your outfit. Poor, Taylor. No money, no fancy clothes.”

  “But I have you.” The words were out before she thought better of it. She shrugged to cover her embarrassment then tried to walk around Bors. He stopped her.

  Pulling her against him, he pressed his mouth against her temple and whispered, “Yes. You've got me.”

  The end of the beaten path opened to a spectacular westerly view of the afternoon sun, islands, and prime sandy-pebbled beach. A huge rock shaped like a shell provided shelter from wind or hot sun. Anybody could relax here, spend the afternoon combing the beach, collect beach glass, read books, or simply daydream.

  Taylor closed her eyes, heightening her senses. She could hear the nature talk, but no sound of manmade noise that intruded the serenity of this place. Paradise.

  From behind her, Bors wrapped his arms around her. “This is an inlet. No ferries could come here, but you could see them through that opening. Once, I spotted a couple of kayakers enjoying this area. But only once. We're too far for small boats to wander here.”

  “This is your private getaway.”

  “Very private. Come on.”

  Taylor kicked off her slippers and started running. “Oh, I love it here! Look how smooth this rock is. Shaped like Mickey Mouse's ear.”

  “No, it looks like butt cheeks.”

  “God, you're so dirty-minded. Can you put this in your pack?”

  “Sure.”

  * * * *

  Half an hour later, Bors's pack felt ten pounds heavier. He spread the blanket on the flat slab of rock, sat on it, and leaned against the boulder Taylor named Clam. He watched Taylor along the wet sand searching for more rocks. The sweats he loaned her were rolled all the way up her thighs to keep them dry. Once in while she would look at him and wave. And each time, Bors's heart would soar. With the sun's reflection on her hair, her long leg
s red from the cold water, she looked ethereal. Like a child, she would laugh when the waves sneaked up on her.

  He loved watching her—everything about her. Why? He just met her. They were only together because she needed his father's help and he needed her to pin her father and send his ass to jail. What he felt for her was pure lust. Period. Because love would be impossible to grow in such a short time. Impossible.

  “Hey, lazy butt. I have more rocks. And you've got to see this.” Taylor dropped the geoduck she was dragging and then opened her hand to show a flattened disk like sea urchins that lived on sandy bottoms. They used to be prevalent in the Island, but they were getting less and less now.

  “Sand dollar. It's a dead one so you can keep it. Place it under the sun to dry.”

  “It's beautiful.”

  Taylor wiped her hand on her sweats, placed the sand dollar under the sun, and lay down on the blanket. Her face was red from the lowering sun. “Can we just stay here forever?”

  “As soon as the sun disappears from the horizon, you'll freeze.”

  “But I have a troll to warm me up.”

  Bors pushed off from where he sat and laid down beside Taylor. He partly covered her warm body. “And this troll is more than willing to give you warmth.”

  Slowly, he inched his hand inside Taylor's plaid shirt. She shivered from his touch, but didn't complain. Her skin felt so warm, so alive. He kissed her lightly on the lips, nose, jaw and ear. He quickly grew used to being around Taylor, as if they'd been a couple for more than a month. “You're beautiful.”

  “You, too.”

  Bors covered her mouth with his. The kiss was slow challenging her to dominate until she drew his face to hers with her tongue thrusting, searching. Bors smiled and returned her kisses. He eased his hand inside her sweatpants to touch her heat and found she was already wet. He loved it. Her body's quick response to his touch heightened his own. “Hmm, baby, you're wet.”

  Taylor writhed beneath him and replied with a moan.

  He plunged his tongue inside her mouth the same time he eased two fingers inside her. She moaned while rocking her hips, urging him to go deeper.

  “I want to see your breasts.” He adjusted his position to give her room as he suckled her lower lip, then her chin.

  Taylor lifted her shirt and moved her lacy cups aside. “Bors...”