Reflection (The Chrysalis Series)

by Sallinger, Elene

  With a deep sigh, he reached for his pack to throw on his shoulder. He would go in and see if Mona had a use for any of the food he’d packed.

  ‘That’s a real deep frown you’re sportin’, sugar.’ Bridget’s caramel-coated voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Aren’t you happy to see me?’

  His head snapped up and a grin broke out across his face.

  ‘I didn’t think you were coming,’ he replied.

  She looked amazing. He didn’t know how she did it, but she made even the conservative button-down sleeveless shirt and cropped pants she wore look like the sexiest clothing on the planet. The deep green of the shirt set off her eyes and hair and the simple khaki capris hugged her full hips and displayed her delicate ankles in a way that made them erotic to him. Her sandals were strappy and showed off perfectly pedicured toes. She looked delicious.

  ‘I almost didn’t,’ she replied seriously, then she put her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated look before saying, ‘but I couldn’t take a chance you were serious about haunting my every move. So, I’m here. But listen up, buddy boy, you better not be some kind of crazed stalker. I’m trained in martial arts and I will kick your ass. Just because I’m small, doesn’t mean I can’t be effective.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa.’ Connor held up his hands and laughed. He honestly didn’t care if she could kick his ass three ways to Sunday; he was just glad she was there. ‘It’s all good. I swear. I’m not a stalker. I just figured you need a little push to get you to go out with me.’

  ‘OK, but let’s get one thing straight. No means no with me, got it? I don’t want to be manipulated again. Are we clear?’ Her eyes spit emerald fire at him. She was honestly pissed.

  Instantly, Connor was contrite. ‘Bridget, look, I apologise.’ He stepped forward and saw something he didn’t like at all flicker in her gaze, ‘Look, I was teasing. I’ll admit I would have tried to run into you again, but only because I really want to get to know you and I’m incredibly attracted to you. But I swear I’m not a psychopath. If you really don’t want to go out with me, then I promise I’ll leave you alone. Just say the word.’

  She considered him for long moment, eying him with scepticism. He could hear his heart in his ears as he waited. This woman got under his skin.

  Finally, she sighed and said, ‘OK. I’ll go out with you, but you’re definitely leaving your social security number and driver’s licence info with Mona after that stunt.’

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled, feeling relief surge through his veins. ‘I’m a man of my word.’

  Picking up the basket he’d packed for them, Connor indicated for Bridget to lead the way inside the coffee shop.

  She was an idiot.

  She’d come to give him a piece of her mind, not to go on the picnic with him. But he’d been so sincere. And he’d been willing to give her the out. Truthfully, she’d believed he was joking all along, but one couldn’t be too sure. Her own past had taught her that trust was something earned, not given. He hadn’t earned it yet regardless of how nice he seemed.

  ‘I’m an idiot, aren’t I?’ she said to Mona as she sipped the apple cinnamon tea latte she’d ordered. Connor had excused himself to the restroom and she’d taken the opportunity to vent with her friend.

  ‘For what?’ Mona asked distractedly as she filled cream and sugar dispensers.

  ‘For going out with this kid,’ Bridget replied as she dropped some discarded sugar packets back into the bowl. ‘I mean, he’s got to be almost ten years younger than me. He practically extorts a date out of me, and then he goes all Boy Scout on me and I cave in.’

  Mona stopped what she was doing and looked at Bridget full on. Her brown eyes seemed to pierce Bridget’s green ones.

  ‘Bridget, let’s be real, OK. You’re avoiding this “kid” – who looks like a full-grown man to me – because of your history and not for any other reason. I’ve seen him regularly since your date.’ She smirked at Bridget’s raised eyebrow over that remark and explained, ‘We chat when he comes in.’ She waved her hand dismissively and moved on. ‘He seems like a good guy to me and, if my observation skills are worth anything, he’s got a serious jones for you. So, he might be a bit over-eager, but you’re only an idiot if you continue to lock yourself in a glasshouse.’

  ‘What bee is up your petunia?’ Bridget exclaimed, a little shocked at Mona’s out-of-character tirade.

  ‘Nothing,’ she grumbled, though the way she was working over the counter with the cleaning rag you’d have thought it owed her money. Stopping, she turned once again to Bridget. ‘It’s just that you’ve got a guy you’re clearly attracted to actually attracted to you in return and you’re going to pass up the opportunity to see where it goes. That is what makes you an idiot, not going on this date.’

  Knowing where this was coming from with Mona, Bridget relaxed and took her friend in a hug. She whispered, ‘I’m sorry, darlin’. Was he in here today again?’

  Mona looked unhappy as she stepped back and nodded. ‘Yes, I wish he’d go somewhere else.’

  Bridget’s reply was interrupted as Connor rejoined the women. Taking in the sad look on Mona’s face, he said, ‘Hey, is everything OK?’

  Mona pulled a smile and said, ‘Yeah, just dumb stuff. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘You want come with us?’ he asked. ‘I think Bridget might even appreciate the company.’

  Bridget flushed at his words. She was clearly coming off a bit paranoid and he was being a very good sport.

  Mona waved them off. ‘Thanks, but no. I’ve got a lot of work to do today. It’s bill paying day, yum!’ She pulled a sarcastic face before squeezing Connor’s arm and saying, ‘Thanks, though.’

  She gave Bridget another hug and whispered, ‘See. Don’t be stupid. Go out with him.’

  To Connor she said, ‘I know where you drink coffee, ya hear? Take care of my friend.’

  He laughed and promised her he’d take very good care of her as he gave Bridget a long, considering look with those ash-grey eyes. Bridget felt her body go languid at the undercurrent of those words.

  To her, he said, ‘Ready?’

  No, not in the least. Nevertheless, she nodded and led the way out of the shop.

  This spot was lovely. Connor had brought them to an old manor house that was currently vacant. Seemingly abandoned, the grounds had gone wild with flowers, trees, and shrubbery. The house itself rose up like a faded treasure from the foliage surrounding it.

  It was done in the Art Deco style from the turn of the 20th century and it also used a lot of the inherent topography in its design. The stream that ran through the grounds had been incorporated into the gardens. Stone outcroppings were used as visual elements in the back garden where they were currently resting on a blanket under a gorgeous willow tree eating the sumptuous spread Connor had brought.

  It was light fare, perfect for the warm late spring weather. A simple pasta salad, French bread rolls, seasonal fruit, and light sparkling wine. She couldn’t complain about his taste, that was for sure. She sipped her wine as she listened to Connor talk about his passion for this place in particular.

  ‘I love how the colours are so wild and varied. It’s almost like walking through a Van Gogh or a Seurat painting. Pointillism in the flesh, so to speak,’ he said as he munched on a roll and washed it down with sips of wine. ‘It’s like being in a place out of time, you know?’

  She chuckled. ‘I bet you read fantasy books growing up too, didn’t you?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He grinned at her. ‘I read the whole Prydain series; all the Deryni books too. I love anything to do with wizards and elves. I mean, the world can be so hard to live in. Why not lose yourself for a little bit in quests for good to vanquish evil? Or in worlds where things are simple and make sense?’

  ‘I agree.’ Bridget smiled. She’d done the same thing herself growing up. ‘My favourite book of all time is Dragondoom by Dennis McKiernan. It has everything: a love story, dragons, dwarves, a strong female character,
and a quest.’

  ‘I haven’t read that one, but I will now.’

  His grey eyes bored into hers as he spoke and she had to catch her breath. He’d been catching her like that the whole time they’d been here. He hadn’t made a single move on her, but every time he looked directly at her it was as if he was stroking her body, and not like sleazy Dean Whittier. This was like a touch of silk whispering over her skin and giving her goosebumps while making her want to luxuriate in it.

  ‘You should. I recommend it.’ Looking away from him, Bridget picked at the blanket while trying to collect herself. Not an easy task when her nipples were hard and her core wet just from him looking at her. Searching for a new topic since clearly books were too sexy – she almost snorted – she asked, ‘Did your love of fantasy influence your artwork?’

  ‘Yup. Definitely.’ He dug into his backpack as he continued, ‘My favourite artist is Maxfield Parrish. He creates these amazing idealised, almost fantastical landscapes that are so full of colour and feeling, but so many are really an homage to the love of his life.’

  Bridget smiled. ‘So, you’re a romantic, are you?’

  He blushed a little and shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that, but I think two people who love each other is a beautiful thing. I remember my parents were always touching and kissing. I knew they loved each other as much as they loved me. My grandparents were the same way.’

  Her heart clenched a little, knowing he was alone in the world now. Her own parents were still together and, despite not being the most demonstrative people in the world, it had been a loving home. She’d never doubted her worth or her place in their world.

  ‘I agree. Love is a beautiful thing when –’ Her words trailed off at the sight of the device Connor had pulled out of his pack. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘This –’ he held up the small, electronic device, which was about the same size as an iPad but clearly not one ‘– is my CleanSlate.’

  He fiddled with it a bit and then handed her the device. On the screen was a beautiful landscape with mountains rising up to break through clouds drenched in hues of silver, purple, and rose, with fantastical birds flying around the summit. The realism of those mountains juxtaposed against clouds and birds that would never exist on this planet created an image both surreal and startling in its beauty.

  Connor was silent and still as she gazed upon the piece.

  ‘Did you do this?’ she asked, looking up at him.

  He didn’t answer. He just nodded.

  ‘It’s lovely. The clouds are gorgeous and those birds are so lifelike even though they clearly exist in some other dimension.’

  The grin that broke out across his face was infectious. She found herself grinning back at him.

  ‘I love to mix realistic and fantasy elements in my art. The CleanSlate is awesome because I can work in any medium on it. It’s designed to allow me to do oil, watercolour, pencil, whatever I want. I have unlimited canvases with it.’

  ‘Do you do any actual painting?’ Her curiosity was growing.

  ‘Yeah, but art supplies can cost you an arm and a leg. Beside, this is so much easier to carry around and I like the digital medium best. It gives me a lot of flexibility and creative licence.’

  The passion he had for his art was apparent in his face and voice.

  ‘Do you have others I can see?’ she asked, nodding down at the CleanSlate.

  ‘Sure, just hit that button and it’ll scroll through.’ He pointed to a small button near her right thumb.

  She did as instructed and was amazed at the breadth of his work. He had landscapes, still lifes, and portraits. Each was intricate and lovingly detailed. Many of the portraits featured people doing some mundane activity, but with some fantastical twist that changed everything. She scrolled through his work, her admiration growing for his talent with each one. The last picture, however, caused her to almost drop the device.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Connor snatched it from her hands and flushed a deep shade of red. ‘I’m sorry, Bridget. I forgot that was on there.’

  Her own face was red and she was sure she looked shocked. Raising her eyes to look at him, she said, ‘Can I please have that back?’ She held out her hand.

  His flush deepened, but he handed it back to her. She gazed at the screen in frank appreciation mixed with wonder. He’d drawn her. The painting was exquisite. She reclined on a couch that could have graced the parlour of Queen Victoria, but it rested on a cloud. Deep blue sky was her backdrop. She was clothed in what could have been some sort of toga. Layers of silky ivory fabric draped her body. She was fully covered in the painting, but the hints of cleavage where one shoulder strap fell down, leaving an expanse of creamy skin exposed, and the slit up the leg showing an expanse of thigh created an eroticism that was unmistakable. Her face was in profile, but her expression was one of hunger and desire. She looked like a woman waiting for her lover.

  ‘It’s –’ Her words failed her and she swallowed hard.

  He took the CleanSlate from her, gently this time, turned it off, and put it back in his pack before turning to face her.

  ‘Bridget. Look, I’m not going to apologise for drawing you. It’s what I do. I draw, but I should have prepared you before you saw that.’ He raked a hand through his close-cropped hair and looked at her like a man about to walk the plank. ‘Say something, anything, please … put me out of my misery.’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ She wouldn’t meet his eyes, still overwhelmed at the carnality so evident in his vision of her. ‘I’ve never been painted before. I’m just surprised at how erotic it seemed.’

  ‘Why are you surprised? You are erotic, Bridget.’

  ‘Hardly!’ she whipped her head up to look at him, speaking louder than she’d intended, but his statement had shocked her. The last adjective she’d ever apply to herself was erotic.

  He must have seen the shock on her face, because he smiled at her. It was almost tender.

  ‘I have no idea why you don’t see yourself as sexy, but you are. From your brain all the way down to your perfectly-painted toes. Everything about you is erotic as hell. You get me hard in the same breath that you intrigue me with some thought you just spoke.’

  She turned her eyes away and flushed even deeper at the mention of him getting hard over her. She was no prude, but she wasn’t used to men so casually discussing sexual things with her.

  He didn’t say anything else, but he did shift until he was sitting more closely beside her. She could feel the heat from his skin through the jeans he wore. The cotton of his T-shirt did nothing to mask it either. A soft breeze washed over them and she could smell the light, woodsy scent of the soap he used. Her entire body was instantly attuned to his.

  She saw his hand move but was still surprised when he gently tipped her chin up to look at him. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but the depth of the desire she saw in his face was not it. She responded almost violently. Her nipples sprang to life, hardening and tingling against the simple cotton of her bra. She went liquid at her core and her heart rate kicked up a notch.

  ‘I want to kiss you, Bridget. Hell, let’s be real, I want to do a whole hell of a lot more than that, but I want to start with kissing you.’

  His eyes had deepened to an almost gunmetal grey with lust. She was mesmerised by his obvious desire for her, by the touch of his fingers on her chin, by the scent of his body so close to hers. She didn’t bother reaching for words, she just nodded.

  He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. They were warm, and soft. As he deepened the kiss, licking into her mouth, she could feel the slight rasp of stubble from where he’d shaved earlier that day. His tongue leisurely explored her mouth. No crevice went without tending, but he didn’t force his attention on her.

  His hand ran gently up her body, stopping briefly to cup her breast. He lingered but a moment, as if testing the weight and shape, before moving up her body. She luxuriated in the feel of him. The soft invasion of his tongue in h
er mouth was both foreign and familiar, throwing her even further off kilter.

  She moaned and leaned into him, bringing one hand to rest on his thigh, which flexed under her fingers. Her blood was thrumming through her veins and she felt her body tuning to him. Any lingering embarrassment over the portrait was forgotten as she gave herself up to his kiss.

  She could kiss him for ever.

  Connor brought his hand to the side of her neck and exerted gentle pressure to lean her backwards. At the same time, he turned and subtly shifted his body to cover hers.

  She didn’t think. She simply reacted. Her knee connected with his balls and he exploded back from her, curling into the foetal position with a sharp cry.

  ‘Connor!’ She scrambled to her hands and knees as realisation sank in. ‘Oh God! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!’

  Hot tears began to run down her face and she chanted her apology over and over. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were clamped closed and he rocked back and forth, the pain evident on his face.

  It was time to face facts. There was no use pretending any more. She should never have come.

  Chapter Seven

  He was going to puke. Lying there, huddled in a ball, Connor was going to lose his lunch. How in the hell did he go from kissing a beautiful, sexy woman to holding his nuts and praying for relief? The ache was spreading out from his groin and settling in his stomach, causing him the most excruciating pain mixed with the most severe nausea he’d ever experienced.

  He panted through the pain.

  She was saying something, but he couldn’t make it out. He honestly didn’t care at that particular moment. He would care. He would demand an explanation, but right then, he just wanted the contents of his stomach to stay where they were.

  Long moments passed where the nausea slowly receded, the pain became a dull ache, and his hearing cleared so that he heard more than the rushing of his own blood.

  ‘Stop,’ he groaned, ‘s’OK.’