Courting Darkness

by Melynda Price

  Now it was her turn to wear the worried scowl. “Liam, what’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

  He parked the idling Jeep and turned to her. Olivia’s pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze. Her cheeks flushed, heat spreading throughout her body, settling deep in her core. How was it possible that with just a look, he could make her melt? The day hadn’t been an easy one—they’d touched on some sensitive subjects, stepped on a few toes, but right now the only thing she wanted was to get settled into this oasis Liam called Landaketa and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  “I want to give you one last chance to reconsider—”

  No way.

  “—if your memory comes back, it isn’t going to be easy. Not for me, and especially not for you. We didn’t exactly part under the best terms, Olivia, and there are some pretty traumatic events in your past that you’re going to have to cope with all over again. Sometimes a fresh start isn’t such a bad thing.”

  She touched the side of his face. The hard set of his jaw beneath her fingertips belayed the tension he carried. She leaned over and brushed her lips against his, then moved to the sharp angle of his strong jaw. “Liam, I want to remember. I know I’ll have to take the bad with the good. As for us?—if it ended badly, then we’ll work through it. My heart is irrevocably in love with you. I know you would never intentionally hurt me, and that what you did was out of desperation. You and I…we’re going to be just fine.”

  The furrow of his dark brows told her he wasn’t so sure. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if I could feel your emotions.”

  For a male used to operating on his senses, she could see how difficult it was for him to trust her words. Olivia knew it wasn’t that he wanted to doubt her, and so she took no offense to his reservations. Her heart ached at the turmoil that brewed inside him. Taking his hand, she pressed it over her heart. As soon as his palm connected with her breast, her pulse leapt beneath his heated touch, her breaths quickening to keep up with her body’s increasing demand for oxygen.

  “You feel that?” she whispered. “My heart races every time I look at you—aches to be near you, and constantly burns for your touch. Nothing is ever going to change that. I can’t wait to remember meeting you for the first time, to remember our first kiss…or falling in love with you. Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for respecting my free will and trusting that my heart will forever belong to you—no matter what happens.”

  Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her hard. “I just hope you’re still saying that tomorrow.”

  He let her go then, and shifted the SUV into gear. He proceeded up the driveway with a heavy-footed determination, almost as if he let himself think on it too long, he might just reconsider and turn them back around.

  A moment later, the Patriot lurched as if the transmission had slipped, and then the plantation came into focus. What she’d assumed had been a haze of fog crowding in from the nearby bayou must have been some sort of a supernatural barrier. “What was that?” she asked, glancing behind her to check for the haze. It was still there, except from this direction, the fog was pearlescent.

  “It’s the boundary that separates this place from the earthly realm. Only angels can pass through here. The plantation is protected; it has been since the Civil War.”

  “I still don’t understand,” she whispered in amazement, staring out the window as a trio of stallions charged up to the wooden fence, all skidding to a stop just short of crashing through the perimeter. The black one let out a shrill whinny. Eyeing the SUV with suspicion, the stallion pivoted on hind legs and trotted beside them as if providing escort up to the house. The two chestnuts brought up the rear, flanking the black in a military-type formation.

  “The best way I can describe it would be to imagine going someplace that was frozen in time.”

  His explanation brought up more questions than it answered. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a chance to ask them because the moment the SUV rolled to a stop, the front door flew open and a middle-aged dark-complected man, wearing vintage servant’s attire, came rushing out to greet them.

  His smile was warm and welcoming as he opened her door and bowed deeply in greeting before offering Olivia his bent arm in assistance. The man’s keen, intelligent gaze did not demurely dip as she would have expected a servant’s to, but instead, held strong, infused with wisdom of centuries past.

  Taking the crook of his elbow, she returned the smile and stepped from the car. As Olivia’s feet touched the gravel, it was like stepping back in time one hundred and fifty years. She took a deep breath and upon exhale, noted there was an unmistakable energy in the air. Something about it felt nostalgically familiar, yet her mind could not reconcile ever feeling it before. It was…comforting—invigorating.

  The gravel crunched beneath Liam’s weighted steps as he rounded the vehicle to join her. “It’s so good to see you, Henry.” Liam smiled warmly and clasped the man’s outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. “I apologize for dropping in so suddenly. Do you have accommodations?”

  “Yesum, yesum…! You know Miss Rebecca says you always welcome here.”

  It took Olivia a moment to decipher the deep southern accent—

  Wait. Who was Rebecca?

  Olivia shot Liam an arched glance, but before she could pose said question, Henry was once again off, leading her toward the house. Obligingly, she acquiesced following him up the porch steps.

  “Come. Come. Miss Rebecca’s gonna be so pleased to see you. How long’s it been?”

  “Too long,” he answered with a chuckle.

  The butler agreed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe how time had seemed to slip away. Ironic, Olivia thought, considering how time stood still here. She glanced over her shoulder to cast him a questioning glance. Her suspicions regarding this Rebecca were running rampant, unfounded jealousy burning in her veins like the foulest poison. It didn’t help matters that she has no memory to anchor her doubts to. If he had taken her to an ex-lover’s place, God help her, she was going to be sick.

  “Is dis your mortal? Never thought I’d get the pleasure of meetin’ you.” Henry patted her hand affectionately as they entered the house.

  It balmed her ire a little that the man at least seemed to know who she was.

  “It is. This is Olivia, my ward,” he confirmed, his reserved tone belaying nothing of their extended relationship. She wasn’t sure she appreciated the professional servitude. Was he embarrassed of her? Did he intend to hide their relationship? Each unanswered speculation drove her one step closer to pissed off.

  “When Miss Rebecca tells me dat you’d become a guardian, I’s just didn’t believe her. I’s just c’aint picture you’s steppin’ away from—”

  “She keeps me busy enough,” Liam cut in, as if he wasn’t overly eager to have Henry reminiscing about his past.

  Henry let out a hardy belly laugh. “Oh, I’s can imagine. Attracts lots-a unwanted attention, I’s a bettin’.”

  “That’s definitely an understatement,” Liam grumbled under his breath.

  Again, Henry laughed. He was the only one. As they entered the foyer, Olivia froze in awe. The home was eclectically breathtaking, from the high-arched peaks, to the rich crown molding that ran floor to ceiling. Ornamental rugs scattered the mahogany floors. Every window was draped with heavy dark-colored cloth of burgundy, navy, and gold. Tasseled cord tie-backs allowed the setting sun to filter in through the spacious rooms.

  “How many people live here?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Henry replied, “Just me and Miss Rebecca live in da keep. But we gets lots a visitors passin’ through. ‘Afore da last twenty years Liam was here all da time.”

  That earned her angel another arched glance.

  “Dis way,” he encouraged, oblivious to the shifting tide of tension crackling between her and Liam like an electrical storm. Keeping his hand over hers, Henry turned toward the spiral staircase and with her in tow, sta
rted their assent, yammering all the way about how much Miss Rebecca missed Liam, and oh, how thrilled she was gonna be to have him back. When they reached the top of the stairs, they turned left and the oblivious butler led them past a chain of doors. At the end of the hall, they finally stopped. He released her arm and opened the door. “Your quarters, Miss Olivia. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be up with your bags right shortly.”

  “Thank you, Henry, but I haven’t any bags.”

  The man shot her a confused look, in which she didn’t elaborate the whys of which she was traveling without such. She stepped into a bedroom that was the size of her living room at home. A deep red and gold Oriental rug covered the majority of the floor. The canopy bed sat in the middle of the room, bearing the same rich colors woven through a velvet duvet. A marble fireplace juxtaposed the wall across from the bed, already stacked with birch and just waiting to be lit. Across the room was a wall of glass, with French doors opening to the balcony. Sitting outside was a wrought iron settee with a vase of fresh cut-flowers.

  “Shall I show you to your room?”

  She looked over to see Henry waiting expectantly for Liam’s answer. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed to hear Liam wouldn’t be staying with her. He didn’t meet her eyes shooting him a plea not to leave her, but his attention was fixed on Henry, placating the old man who very much wanted to play host to his houseguests.

  “That won’t be necessary, Henry. I know the way.”

  Those black brows bristled with displeasure. “But Miss Rebecca—”

  “—will know how much your warm welcome was appreciated,” Liam finished. “Thank you. That will be all.”

  The butler hesitated to take his leave. After a long moment, he nodded and turned down the hall. Liam stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and the lock snicked into place. Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms. Despite herself, she melted into his embrace, her ire soothing as his hand cupped the back of her head and held her cheek against his beating heart. They stood there in silence for several minutes, Liam’s cheek resting against the top of her head.

  “Anything yet?” he asked softy.

  She knew he was talking about her memories. “Nothing,” she answered into his chest.

  “That’s all right. It will probably take a little time. You should try to rest. You’ve had a rough few days.” He placed a chaste kiss on top of her head. “I know you must have questions.”

  That’s an understatement.

  “And I probably should have better prepared you for coming here, but I wasn’t even certain if you could, so there was no point in complicating things.”

  Oh, well, they were getting pretty complicated now. Olivia wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but clearly, she’d made a few leaps where Rebecca was concerned.

  “We’ll have time to talk later…after supper.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, not yet ready to let go. He felt too good. “You’re not staying here with me.” It wasn’t a question. Nevertheless, she didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in her voice.

  “It’s complicated, Olivia.”

  I bet it is.

  The question was, was Rebecca that complication, or was there something else keeping him out of her bed?

  “When we’re here, I’m your guardian and you’re my mortal. That’s it. If our relationship—”

  “Liam!” The airy, feminine voice echoed throughout the mansion.

  Liam tensed against her and muttered something under this breath she couldn’t quite hear. It sounded like another language with the bite of a curse. His arms fell away and he stepped back, putting a measure of distance between them. The woman called his name again—louder—closer. The rapid patter of footsteps charging up the stairs echoed down the hall.

  “Let me guess…Rebecca?” Olivia didn’t even try to hide her jealousy, which earned her a surprised look from Liam, as if he didn’t understand the reason for her snark.

  “Liam! I can’t believe you’re here!” The pitter-patter down the hall, coming closer…

  “Excuse me,” he murmured to her all polite-like, ducking out of the room and Olivia’s sight.

  Her feet had a mind of their own and were quick on his heels, but not fast enough. She stepped into the hall just in time to see a blonde with those stereotypical shoulder-length curls throw herself into Liam’s arms. He caught her with a friendly, deep-throated chuckle and picked her up in a God-I’ve-missed-you hug, spinning her around in a circle. The woman’s dress flared out in an arch of pale yellow satin and billows of white petticoats, all hemmed with delicate lace.

  She squealed one more time, as if he’d hugged her too hard, laughing as he set her back on the floor. “It’s great to see you, Rebecca. You’re as lovely as ever.”

  Her hand self-consciously flew up to her hair. Of course, not a strand was out of place, and Olivia had the insane urge to correct that.

  “Henry said you brought a guest?”

  Obviously, the woman didn’t see her standing several paces behind Liam. Not a surprise, considering she hadn’t taken her baby blues off Olivia’s angel. Thinking she might be sick, she turned around to march back into her room and give these two “friends” their privacy.

  “I did,” Liam answered. Fabric shifted behind her and before she could duck into her room, Liam called to her, halting her retreat. “Rebecca, this is Olivia.”

  Certain she looked worse than she felt, which was about one step below dog shit, Olivia begrudgingly pasted a smile on her face and slowly turned to face the two. She didn’t expect the smile that greeted her to be so…genuine? She’d been prepared for that rival glint in the woman’s eyes and the falsetto grin that said “Back off, bitch. He’s mine—” much like the look that was probably on her face right now.

  But Rebecca’s smile didn’t falter, the epitome of southern hospitality this one was. She did, however, reach up and knock Liam in the arm with the back of her knuckles and whisper in her sweet southern drawl, “My laurd, Liam, isn’t she jist gorgeous.”

  Clearly, Olivia’s hearing was failing her, because she could have sworn that woman just called her gorgeous—not quite the welcome she’d been expecting. Before she could respond, the woman marched past Liam, her skirts rustling stiffly as she approached. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m shoure.”

  Olivia stared stupidly for a moment, taking in the site of the buxom blonde, who was, by the way, stunning. Rebecca’s waist-slimming corset and gravity-defining bustier left Olivia wondering how the woman was even breathing. Any kind acknowledgement was stuck somewhere between the lump in Olivia’s throat and the bile in her gut. Was this woman for real?

  “Olivia?” Concern laced Liam’s voice as he stepped toward her, snapping her out of her speechless stare-down.

  “I’m fine, Liam,” she said, hold up her hand to stave him off. “It’s just been a long day.” Making eye contact with Rebecca, she forced another smile and said, “I apologize for seeming rude. Thank you for letting me stay at your lovely home. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “I didn’t think that a’tall, darlin’. You must be exhausted, poor thing. Please, rest some, while supper cooks. Henry will fetch ya when it’s time to eat.” Turning back to Liam, Rebecca slipped her arm through his and held on tightly while she batted her baby blues up at him. “Meanwhile, you can tell me just where the heck you’ve been hidin’ yourself.”

  Liam looked over the blonde’s head, his violet gaze darting over to Olivia. To his credit, he didn’t appear overly eager to leave her alone. But then his statement in the bedroom came back to mind, rifling her nerves. “When we’re here, I’m your guardian and you’re my mortal.”

  “Are there any other warriors staying here right now?” he asked Rebecca, seeming undecided about leaving her.

  “No. Not currently. Of course, you know they come and they go,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand. “It’s all r
ight, Liam, she’s perfectly safe here,” Rebecca teased, leading him a step down the hall. “Your mortal needs some rest.”

  His mortal could speak for herself, fuck you very much.

  Despite Rebecca’s persistence, Liam’s gaze remained fixed, watching her intently as if unsure what to do—go or stay. Well, she’d make things easy for him, fatigue fueling the flame her temper had sparked. It was a good thing he couldn’t feel her emotions, because right now, she was sporting a hell of a lot of jealousy and a healthy dose of pissed off.

  “Go on,” she snipped tartly. Interpretation: Don’t leave me. “Your mortal’s tired.” Interpretation: How dare you reduce our relationship to guardian/mortal status. Mocking in a sickly-sweet southern drawl, she snipped, “My, she’s plum tuckered out after keeping up with your vigorous pace last night.” Interpretation: Especially after the intimacy we’ve shared.

  Until this moment, Olivia wasn’t certain angels were capable of blushing—guess so. He cast a sheepish glance to the floor, as if not quite sure how to respond to her snarky innuendo.

  Rebecca, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. “Liam,” she gasped, “now don’t be tellin’ me you’ve been hard on this sweet thing.”

  His color darkened and Olivia bit her lip to hold in the unexpected laugh that earned her a warning “not funny” glower. Oh, he’d been hard on her all right, just not in the way this very proper, naïve southern belle was thinking. By her doe-eyed glances up at Liam, it was clear the thought had yet to occur to the woman that there might be more than guardianship going on between Olivia and her angel.

  She sensed no feminine rivalry in her host, but that didn’t mean the woman didn’t have feelings for Liam, she just didn’t consider Olivia a threat. She clearly held great affection for him, to what extent was yet to be determined.

  “I’ll see you at supper,” she said to neither one in particular, and turned away, retreating to her room before she said something to earn her more than a warning look of displeasure.

  Chapter Twenty-Three