by L. R. Potter
“Answered prayer,” she murmured, mulling the words over in her mind. She didn’t feel like such a freak now. She felt… loved. Not that he’d said those words. But his actions had been… loving.
“Do you remember our first night together?” he asked.
“Yes, she said with a smile, as the memory of his body intertwined with hers entered her mind’s eye.
“You promised you would come to me when I hurt you. Do you remember?”
She swallowed at the soft recriminations in his voice. Knowing she’d failed him in this. “Yes,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips against her head to soften his rebuke. “If we’re going to make it as a couple, you’ve got to promise me, you’ll always come to me. Unlike you, I don’t have any magical gifts which would allow me to read your mind. I need to know where your head is at. Will you promise me?”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t just try, do it. If I hurt you… in any way, I want you to come to me and tell me. Okay?” he questioned more sternly, his body tensing beneath her.
Her eyebrows furrowed at his definitive tone. This was apparently very important to him. “I will,” she answered, bewildered.
He slowly relaxed and sighed deeply. “Okay. Do you remember what you saw in your… your vision?”
This time it was her turn to tense. She tried to lean away from him, but he just tightened his grip. “No, you’re not running. What was it? Was it about your attack?” he asked.
She swallowed and shook her head as claustrophobia washed over her at the remembrance of the glimpsing. She clutched the edges of the tub, her feelings of calmness far, far away.
He waited for her to continue, when she didn’t, he asked again, “What was it?” Soothingly, he leaned forward and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
Knowing how crazy the dream would sound, she murmured, “I don’t remember.”
His hands ceased and his body stilled behind her. He exhaled deeply. Gently, he pushed her forward and slowly rose up and stepped out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, he began to roughly dry the water from his skin. She wrapped her arms around her knees and watched him. The sight of his toned body did fluttery things to her stomach.
After wrapping the towel around his waist, he studied her impassively. “Two things, Arabella. Trust and truth. If we don’t have those two things between us, we have nothing. Trust and truth,” he repeated.
She closed her eyes when he stalked out of the bathroom. She heard drawers being opened and shut, the shuffling of clothing as he dressed. Finally, she heard the bedroom door close quietly. She jumped at the sound as if he’d slammed it with all his might.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him about the glimpsing, it was just that she didn’t understand what it meant. Just because it had been manifested that way, didn’t necessarily mean she would be literally locked in a metal coffin. With a knot in the pit of her stomach, she slowly climbed out of the tub and dried off. As she didn’t have any clothes, she opened several of his drawers and finally found one containing T-shirts. She slid it over her head and inhaled his scent which clung to it. She knew it was the smell of detergent, but it was the smell she associated with him.
Climbing into the bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin. She wondered where he’d gone… and if he was coming back. She was so tired and her head was pounding. Tired and bitterly cold. She glanced at the table and saw her prescription on the nightstand. She looked at it for a long moment. Scrambling up once again, she struggled to get the cap off the bottle. After shaking the tablets into her shaking hands, she struggled to get the cap back on. In the end, she just sat it back on the table with the cap just sitting on it, not closed. Quickly, she swallowed the tablets with some bottled water. She felt as weak as a kitten and slightly uncoordinated. As she placed the water back on the table, it bumped against the prescription bottle and the pills scattered. She stared at them laying all over the table and carpet. She just didn’t have the energy to pick them up. Curling her body into a tight ball, she was ice-cold, and she shivered as she huddled under the covers.
Lynx worked for several hours in his study. No matter what his family thought, their empire did not run itself. Once he’d done all he could, he poured himself a drink and sat back behind his desk. He sipped the drink and wondered what to do about the woman upstairs, who, he assumed lay snuggled in his bed. He sighed. They were in such a no-win situation. It was easy for him to tout trust and truth, when he knew he could only provide one of those himself. Maybe he’d been too hard on her. Just as he wanted to keep some things to himself, wasn’t she allowed her secrets? He gave a rough shake of his head. No, this was different. He needed to know about the attack. She needed to tell him so he could keep her safe. And if the vision hadn’t been about the attack, what could it have been about that she’d refused to tell him
I’m not a freak, she’d cried earlier. She’d told him what had happened to her family due to her mother’s visions. He wondered what had happened to her to make her feel like a freak. She’d gone through a lot in her short life, more than most. She’d lost everyone who’d meant something to her – in one form or the other. Guilt burned a hole in his stomach. God, he was a monster. The poor girl had just been attacked and left for dead and here he was giving her speeches about trust and truth. He should be horse-whipped.
Rolling to his feet, he sat his glass down and bounded up the marble staircase. He quietly opened the door and stepped into the darkening room. His foot stepped on something and it cracked. Bending down, he lifted an empty prescription bottle from the floor. He stared at it for a long moment. Fear coated his skin in an icy-sheen. He moved toward the bed swiftly, calling her name.
She was curled up under the comforter. He dragged her out. Oh, God, fear stabbed at his heart. “Not again, not again,” he muttered over and over. She was still breathing. Thank, God. He began to slap against her face as he called her name. It took several moments before she began to show any signs of life. She tried to squirm away from him so she could slide back into sleep. He continued to call her name and began to shake her.
Slowly, her heavy eye-lids rolled open. She struggled to focus on him.
“Lynx,” she finally mumbled.
“Arabella!” He gathered her to him and squeezed her tight, pain lancing his body. It was then he noticed the pills on the table and floor. He stopped and stared at them. Had she simply knocked them over? He put her back down and began to scoop them up. He gave a hasty count. There didn’t appear to be many missing. He sat blinking down at her as she slept. He didn’t think he could do this. She could die at any time. She was a fragile human.
He tucked the comforter back around her and rose from the bed. He walked to the balcony and walked to its edge. He could turn her, make her one of them. His lips thinned. He didn’t want that for her, she deserved better. Hadn’t she already suffered enough for one lifetime? Besides, didn’t she deserve the right to choose this type of existence? Or not?
She slowly blinked her eyes opened. The early morning sun had her snapping them back closed. She tried once again, and this time she managed to keep them open. She glanced over and realized Lynx hadn’t slept in the bed all night. Trust and truth, he’d said. She wondered where he’d slept. She gathered the plush comforter around her still-chilled body and shuffled out through the opened balcony doors.
She stopped when she saw him asleep, stretched out on the chaise-lounge chair. He lay with one arm slung over his eyes and the other rested against his middle. She sat down quietly in a chair across from him. She’d never had an opportunity to just look at him without him overwhelming her. His dark hair was tousled and shiny in the early morning light. His face was relaxed and his lips were parted slightly as he breathed in deeply. She wondered why he’d chosen to sleep out here instead of with her. Old insecurities flared within her.
She turned her gaze to a field where several horses stood grazing, and chewed on her thumbnail. So much had hap
pened of late, so much that she’d not really had time to absorb everything – both good and bad. She’d lost Ian, but gained Lynx, (at least, she thought she still had him). She’d lost Drew and if she’d didn’t get back to work, she was going to lose a lot more. She shivered at the thought of being out of Lynx’s protection. She shook her head. She’d been on her own for nearly a year. She wasn’t some weak-willed female who needed a man to take care of her. She wanted him, yes; was crazy about him, yes; but she didn’t want to need him.
“Come here,” Lynx’s voice had her jerking her head back in his direction.
She studied his cool, hooded gaze. She pointed to herself in a motion which bespoke, who me?
“Yes, you. Come here,” he said with more demand.
She rose, drawing the comforter closer around herself. He scooted over when she got near, and opened his arm to her. She crawled in, unashamed at her delight to do so. He placed the comforter over the both of them, turned them on their sides and spooned her from behind.
As was becoming his custom, with his face buried in hair, he murmured, “Arabella, my Arabella.”
“I didn’t know if you were still speaking to me or not,” she said quietly.
He brushed his lips against the back of her neck and she felt the tingle down to her toes. “Why would you doubt it?” he asked, as he nibbled against her ear.
She shrugged and squirmed back into his hard body. “I was in there… and you’re out here.”
“I worked late and didn’t want to wake you, but wanted to be close by if you needed me.” He slid his hands up under the white, cotton T-shirt she wore. “Umm, I do love it when you wear my shirts.”
She closed her eyes when his hand found her breast and gently plucked against its rosy peak.
“About yesterday…” she began.
“Forget about yesterday,” he growled. “You are entitled to whatever secrets you want… as long as it doesn’t affect your safety,” he said as he kissed across her shoulder, “or us,” he lifted her arm and kissed across her ribs.
She bowed her head in relief, unaware of how tense she’d been before his words. She’d seen her whole life how people reacted to her mother’s visions. She’d never wanted to get into that trap. It was hard enough to have that stuff in her own head, but to have to try and explain it to someone else - especially if it had to do with them – was worse.
“Is the honeymoon over already,” he grumbled against the flat planes of her belly.
“What?” she asked as she threaded her fingers within his hair.
“Where are you?” he asked as he flipped her onto her back and crawled up over her.
She slid her hands up under his shirt to run her fingers over the toned muscles covering his ribs. “With you,” she said, meaning much more than just physically.
“That’s my girl,” he said with a grin. Rising from the lounge quickly, he bent down, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder. Her head spun at the sudden movement and she squealed. He carried her back into the bedroom and placed her gently on the bed.
He cupped her face within his palms. “I’m always here if you need to talk to me about anything. But I won’t pry, okay?”
“Okay.” She ran her fingertips over his eyebrow. “Thank you,” she said with feeling.
“There’s another way you can thank me,” he said with a salacious grin.
“How’s that?”
“Get naked. Now!” he said in mock seriousness.
~X~
They were lying with their bodies intertwined on his gold sheets. He had his arms wrapped around her, and her body curved into the niche he’d made with his own. She pressed a kiss onto his hand. He made her feel safe. It made her remember the glimpsing that had started their fight the day before. Trust and truth? Okay, well, here goes nothing, she thought.
“I dreamt I woke up and was in a metal box. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see anything. I kept screaming for someone to let me out, but no one ever came. I know it sounds so stupid, which is why I don’t like to talk about what I see. They rarely make sense as I can’t see all of it. I was scared,” she said, as she tugged his arms tighter around her.
He pressed his lips against her head and held her as tight as he could. “Is it always things what will happen?” he asked.
“No, sometimes, its things that have already happened. That’s why its so confusing and why I don’t like to discuss it.”
“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” he said softly.
One more day, he’d made her promise. One more, long day in bed. Her only allowable activity was apparently to be with him. And she was good with that. Now that he’d released her from having to reveal her glimpsings to him – and she’d shared one with him - it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at him as she sat up in bed eating the breakfast he’d brought her, complete with roses on the tray. He grinned back as he chewed the food in his mouth.
He was so handsome, she could stare at him for hours. She glanced at the pendant, suspended on a chain around his neck that he always wore. “What is that on your chain?” she asked.
He glanced down as he lifted a hand to the pendant. “It’s a crescent moon. I… I went through a real rough time in my life and my mother gave it to me. She said like the moon, life is fluid and ever-changing. She told me to just hold on, and things would get better.”
She tilted her head. “That’s beautiful. What a great mom she must be. I hope to be a mother like that one day.”
He nodded but glanced away from her as pain punched him in the gut. He could never give her that... but someone would. The mere thought of another man touching her was hideously painful. Needing to change the subject, he asked, “How’d you get into the catering business?”
“My mother started it and I took it over after…” she trailed off not wanting to think of bad things.
He nodded thoughtfully. With a nod toward the breakfast tray, he asked, “So, how does this food compare to yours?”
“Surprisingly well,” she said with a grin.
“Esmeralda will be pleased.”
“Esmeralda?” she inquired.
“The cook.”
“Ahh, family money,” she laughed.
He grinned back. “Yes, it does have its benefits.”
She liked this. It was comfortable and safe, but not in the same way she’d experienced with Drew. With Lynx, it was comfortable and safe, but real… very real. Her heart tightened in chest, her feelings for this man were nearly overwhelming.
He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the bed as he contemplated her over the rim of his coffee cup. Gradually, as she watched, his expression of relaxed comfort, turned pensive.
“I have to go out for a bit this afternoon. Will you be alright here on your own for a couple hours?” he asked.
The thought of being left there alone in unfamiliar surroundings, dressed in nothing more than the shirt she’d slept in, filled her with unease. “I really need to go home.”
“No!” he answered sharply.
She jumped at the vehemence of his barked response. Anger sat heavy on her stomach. She pursed her lips. “Lynx, I’m going to have to go home sooner or later. I mean, look at me,” she said plucking at the T-shirt, “I need clothes. I have a house to look after… I have a business to attend to.”
He studied her for a long moment, clearly not used to being defied. “How about I go by your house and check on things and pick up some clothes while I’m there,” he compromised.
Her desire to capitulate to his request – to let him protect her, take over her – made her afraid. She could not allow him to control her life. One day - and while she didn’t know when, she knew it would come - he’d leave and she’d be left to pick up the pieces. She needed to be in control when that happened.
“You promised to stay in bed today,” he said, trying a different tactic.
“And I will… my bed.”
&
nbsp; “It’s not safe,” he said quietly.
She shivered at the remembered feel of the maniac’s teeth against her neck. “I’ll have to face it, sooner or later.”
Leaning back in his chair and interlocking his fingers before placing them on his chest, he said, “Fine, I choose later.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I have to be able to live my life while we’re doing this,” she said, waving a finger between them.
He sat up abruptly. “And I want you to have a life to live. Don’t you understand that?”
“Lynx, please be reasonable. I have a life out there… responsibilities.”
“You just got out of the hospital after having been attacked, twice. So don’t ask me to be reasonable,” he replied.
“What’s the difference between me staying here alone or at my own home?”
“First off, you wouldn’t be alone here as the household staff are here. Secondly, the person who attacked you, twice, knows where you live and where you work. For now, you’re safer here at Night Shade,” he said, his tone indicative of one used for a small child.
She blinked at him as the truth of his words washed over her. The attacker knew both where she lived and where she worked. How would she ever survive this? Her hands began to shake and the breakfast she’d just consumed threatened to come up. “Oh, God!” she whispered.
He moved to the bed, and sat on its edge, before wrapping a cool hand around the back of her neck. He tilted her chin up with a slight pressure of his thumb. She met his steady, dark gaze. Her own eyes, liquid-blue, burned with frustration and fear. “I’m not trying to frighten you, I just want you to think this through. You’re perfectly safe here. I can protect you, you just have to let me,” he said calmly.
With an effort, she broke away from his gaze, and pulled away from him. She climbed off the other side of the bed on shaky legs, the cotton T-shirt falling to hit her upper-thighs. She moved to the balcony doors, wrapped her arms around her middle, and stared out, her shoulders slumped. She’d well and truly lost everything. It seemed everything to do with her life had, and was, being systematically stripped away from her. She’d already lost her parents, Ian, and Drew. Now, she was losing what was left, her home, her job, her safety, her sanity… everything.
