The Destiny Code: The Soldier and the Mystic

by Hollingsworth, Suzette

  It doesn’t make sense.

  I have no idea what Miss Alita Stanton is about. He had to concede that she was the winner of this game.

  Of all things he hated to admit defeat, but Val realized he knew little more than when he met this temptress.

  He didn’t even know what the game was. Of wits? Of seduction?

  Val shook his head. He honestly didn’t know. He didn’t know what side he was on—or what side he wanted to be on.

  Pretty pathetic when a man didn’t know what game he was playing when he had been jousting for the better part of an hour.

  Although he loathed being declared the loser, particularly in a contest of logical deduction, Val decided he was growing weary of this battle of the wits. It was time to speed things up or close them down.

  “Miss Stanton,” Val said in his most sultry voice as he placed his face close to hers, looking into her eyes. “If indeed you traveled from Britain to Egypt to see me, which I strongly doubt, why did you do it?” He had tried commanding her to tell him the truth, and it hadn’t worked.

  He was flexible. Val was very willing to try another approach.

  “Because I have seen you...It is amazing to behold.” As her eyes softened, staring into his, he began to feel the ice in his soul melting. She lightly touched her cheeks with both hands, her eyes shining.

  For an instant, he was speechless, even as she continued.

  “If I ever see you realized in the flesh, Lord Ravensdale, it will be worth the journey of my entire life.”

  14

  My Destiny Awaits

  “You may certainly see me in the flesh, Miss Alita.” Val Huntington swiftly took her into his arms where she sat, his hand cradling her back.

  The raw drive which was the Earl of Ravensdale was focused on her alone, the power she had encountered in him unleashed upon her.

  Nothing else was in his thoughts but her, and it was intoxicating…dizzying. His breath mingled with hers, his lips demanding hers, perfectly molding to hers, claiming her.

  Alita knew the integrity and power of the captain’s being, and she bathed in it, as if she were twirling in a ballroom lit with a thousand candles, growing dizzy from the knowledge of his desire. It converged upon her, even as her body yearned to be closer to his.

  She sensed there was an answer to be found in melding with Ravensdale’s soul. She floated in a magical realm, this amazing man desiring, wanting her.

  And I want him too, she realized with a gasp. He groaned and pulled her closer, ravaging her mouth. She was stunned.

  And delighted.

  In that instant she was whole. Safe. And pure.

  How odd I should feel pure at a time when my thoughts are so improper.

  She longed to feel the strength of his muscles underneath her palms. She pulled back and looked into his pale silvery eyes framed with dark lashes. His features were harsh, further emphasized because he was fighting a beard.

  As she studied him, he raised his left eyebrow in an unspoken question, his thick, black hair brushed away from his face except for that one incorrigible lock of hair which fell across his forehead.

  He returned her scrutiny, both of them not speaking, simply looking at each other, as if this incomprehensible magical spell was the last thing either of them expected.

  “What is happening?” The question escaped from her lips.

  Slowly and sensually, a wicked smile crossed his expression. The earl’s eyes were his most arresting feature until he smiled. Then the angels sang and—heaven help her—she felt a longing unlike any force she had ever known.

  “Strangely enough, Miss Alita Stanton, I cannot seem to get enough of you.” His baritone voice was deep and masculine, resonating with desire. He pulled her body close to his chest, his muscled arms wrapped around her.

  I have never felt so desired in my life. He cradled her head in his strong hands, not caring if he should muss her hair. His tongue gently explored her mouth again, and she felt herself go limp.

  Alita leaned back into the couch in a half-hearted attempt to create some distance, but her movement had the opposite effect: she placed herself in a partially reclining position. Valerius ran his hands along her waist, as if memorizing her body.

  As he did so, the silk of her skirt rubbed her skin deliciously and created a lovely crinkling sound, putting sound to his desire.

  Why did a simple touch feel so divine even through the fabric? The linen beige suit he wore moved under her palms, and she wondered what his skin would feel like and what he looked like under that suit. Her thoughts were racing, and not where they should be progressing.

  “Lord Ravensdale, I came to tell you of an important purpose you have yet to fulfill. You are…distracting me.”

  “I should hope so. I’m certainly making every effort to do so.”

  “You don’t believe me,” she whispered.

  “I honestly don’t know what the devil you’re talking about, Miss Alita,” Val said, his breath uneven. He brushed kisses across her cheekbone. “And I don’t give a damn.”

  With his touch, Alita was again bewildered to the point of light-headedness. It was the greatest mystery why this magnificent man should have the slightest interest in her. He didn’t even know her.

  And he was interested; there was no doubt in her mind he had a strong attraction to her.

  As well as the clear intent to thunderbolt from her vicinity, she sensed it.

  And he said she was the one whose motivations were difficult to read. Alita shook her head in confusion.

  Could it be he is promised to another woman? Alita had never connected to that side of Captain Lord Ravensdale. The question had never interested her before now.

  And it shouldn’t interest me now. First of all, she was head over ears for William Priestly not two hours ago. Second, and more important, she was not here for any romantic purpose for herself but to save the lives of others.

  How could any one silly girl be so fickle and selfish at the same time?

  I must know. How can his contradictory feelings for me be understood? She was unable to suppress her curiosity where Captain Lord Ravensdale was concerned.

  Alita stood and moved to the velvet wingback chair, where she smoothed her gown. Shyly she asked in a whisper, “Lord Ravensdale, do you have a sweetheart?”

  “I am far too busy for such diversions.” It was not in this military man’s nature to lie. He wasn’t afraid of anything, so why would he lie?

  But the earl was not without his passions. He stared at her with such intense longing she felt herself tremble.

  “You’re not too busy today.”

  “I’m definitely not too busy today,” he emphasized, his steely blue eyes penetrating hers as his fingers interlocked with hers across the table between them.

  “How is it you have not been able to find a woman who is worth your time?”

  “I have found a few women interesting.” He shrugged. “Generally much older than yourself, Miss Stanton.”

  “Older than me?” she asked incredulously. She was a full year beyond marrying age.

  Suddenly understanding hit her. She did look young for her age. “I am older than you might think, my lord.”

  “You don’t say, Miss Stanton?” He chuckled. “Let’s see. I would guess you are all of seven—no, eighteen.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “I am correct, am I not, Miss Stanton?”

  “Surely you must know it is indelicate to discuss a lady’s age.” I will not give him the satisfaction.

  In an instant his full meaning hit her. “Are you telling me, Lord Ravensdale, that you prefer ladies older than eighteen?”

  He roared with laughter, even to the point of taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his eyes, which served to annoy her as much as anything ever had. “Yes, one foot in the grave, as it were.”

  “What age do you prefer, Lord Ravensdale?” She was unable to contain her interest.

  “A woman
under the age of twenty-four is not worth my time. I make an exception in your case, however, Miss Stanton.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You are not typical of your age, I regret to inform you.”

  “I most certainly am,” she countered with indignation. Twenty-four? He couldn’t be serious. It seemed he placed widows, spinsters, and her in the same category in his mind. “I assure you I have more in common with young ingénues than nursemaids and governesses.”

  Alita did not place herself above anyone, but she resented his inference that she was ‘old’.

  “Do you, Miss Stanton? The same young ingénues who cast you out at the Queen’s Ball?”

  She gasped for air, and regret at once crossed his expression. “I am sorry, Miss Alita, I did not mean to add pain to injury.”

  “It was unkind of you to say.”

  “I did not mean it so, I assure you. I am not accustomed to holding my tongue.”

  “Even in my dotage, nothing is more evident.”

  “Miss Stanton, allow me to illuminate my love life for you.”

  “If you feel the need to do so, I shan’t stop you.” She pursed her lips, attempting to pretend she was no longer interested. If she hadn’t been so curious, she would have told him not to bother at this point. Where she had once felt desired, she now felt herself to be on the shelf.

  “I feel a burning need to do so. Courting married women is inelegant, girls just out of the schoolroom bore me to tears, and charming widows are not as common as one might think.”

  “How unfortunate, Captain Ravensdale, that the supply of women meeting your elevated standards is insufficient.”

  “I accept your pity with a grateful heart.” He lightly kissed the tips of her fingertips. When he was amused, there was a slight tilt to his mouth on the right side, and all the ferocity in his gaze turned to intensity of another kind.

  The captain had a way of looking at one that was really quite disconcerting. Alita didn’t need any assistance at being discombobulated. She was already feeling completely lost at sea and not up to the task she had been given.

  “Thankfully, there is far more to life than idle diversions, Miss Stanton.”

  “I assure you I am not an idle diversion, whatever other women may have been for you in the past, Lord Ravensdale.” She felt her blood boiling.

  “I begin to think you would not be. And yet…” he appeared to be deep in thought. “If the intent is not marriage, how could it be otherwise? But believe me, my dear, I know how to play my part. I might be rusty, but I can still satisfy. I am thought to be rather adept.”

  Alita gasped. “Captain Ravensdale! Please do not speak to me in such a fashion! A gentleman would never speak to a lady in such a manner. And I assure you I have no interest in your adeptness.”

  “You might feel differently afterwards.”

  “I suppose I would…I mean…I didn’t mean…”

  “Do tell, what did you mean, Miss Stanton?”

  Oh, what did she mean? I don’t know what I meant! She felt herself coloring even as she attempted to suppress the memory of hard muscles underneath her palms, her skin tingling from head to toe. “I meant nothing I’m sure.”

  “I’m quite sure that you did.”

  “I only meant to ask you…”

  “Yes?” He leaned toward her. She felt his warm breath on her cheek, the gentle parting of his lips teasing her. Each kiss warmed her, ignited her. “I don’t believe that our paths will cross again, so I did wish to make it memorable.”

  Her heart fell with his words. Suddenly all of these sweet feelings were tainted.

  This is only a physical interlude for Captain Ravensdale—one he has no wish to repeat—and I am simply a female body to him.

  How could he treat her in such an impersonal fashion, taking something so lightly which had such significance to her and was so out of the realm of her prior experience?

  “Are you accustomed to feeling an attraction of this magnitude, Lord Ravensdale?” she ventured, knowing she had never felt anything to approach it in her life.

  “Not generally, no.” He returned his ice blue eyes to hers, and once again she felt her breath catch in her chest.

  “Not generally?”

  “Let me rephrase that, Miss Stanton.” He seemed to reconsider his answer. “No, never.” His voice was low, and his eyes, now a silvery liquid, seemed to pierce her soul even as his hand ran along her silk sleeve. “So why are we wasting it with discussion?”

  “I’m simply curious, Lord Ravensdale,” Alita persisted, swallowing hard, pulling her arms in toward her body and sinking farther into her seat. This was all so new to her, and she was having difficulty understanding the changes within her. “Why do you think you have this sudden interest in me?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Val raised his eyebrows, as if he didn’t know himself, but his nonchalant mannerisms expressed little interest in resolving the mystery. “You are a beautiful woman, Miss Alita, completely unpredictable, neither insipid nor boring, as most pretty women are. And it’s been a long time for me…”

  The words stung. Valerius had clearly not taken her message seriously. He thought her important missive was simply part of a strumpet’s game.

  “We have strayed far from the purpose of my visit,” she said. “I am only here that you might understand your purpose.

  “So you will stay here, in Egypt?” she persisted, exerting every effort to remember her mission in this foreign land. Thus far she had failed miserably. She knew she should stop him from kissing her, but she had been floating in a heavenly dream. A dream she suspected was just that: a product of her imagination.

  “Of course. I am translating Egyptian hieroglyphics into English,” he whispered hoarsely. “As if anyone cares. Even I don’t care at this precise moment. May we please cease speaking, Miss Stanton? It is distracting me.”

  “Translating?” she asked in a whisper, her cheek touching his rough cheek, her head reeling from being so close. The vision he presented, now so real, made her gasp in anticipation of the enlightenment she had sought for many months now.

  Lord Captain Ravensdale’s power she understood. His purpose was vague.

  And she was distracted to say the least. She was surrounded by masculine scent, pure muscle, and passion.

  Alita exerted every effort to concentrate on Valerius’ words and thoughts, to hear the quieter voices—the voices that might help her to help him—which were overpowered by the force of his attraction for her—and hers for him.

  “You are translating?” she repeated, even as his lips brushed across hers.

  “Yes, yes. Translating.” A heavy sigh escaped from his lips, after which he seemed resigned to kiss and speak at the same time. “As it so happens, Miss Stanton, I read several ancient Egyptian languages, some better than others.”

  “You read several languages? More than one?” she asked anxiously.

  “More…than…one.” Gently he pulled her towards him, unaffected by her squirming, alternating each word with a soft kiss. “But I am always willing to practice. I love…to…practice.”

  “Oh, my,” murmured Alita in a strained whisper. “Which languages?”

  “Miss Stanton, is it really necessary…?” he sighed again.

  “Yes, please go on, my lord,” she insisted. “Which languages do you read?”

  “There is Coptic, which is Ancient Egyptian. And there is Arabic”—he nibbled her right ear—“from the Middle East”—followed by her left ear—“Arabs invaded Egypt after the pyramids were built,” he murmured as he kissed her neck and moved to her throat.

  Tongues, Alita thought. In the moment of comprehension, she felt a surge of uncontained energy soar through her body.

  “Don’t you see, Lord Ravensdale?” she exclaimed, somehow managing to push this formidable man back against the sofa and stand at the same time.

  “Bloody hell! What are you about, Miss Stanton?” he demanded, staring up at her, disbelievi
ng as he rubbed his jaw line as if he had been punched. “How did you do that? You’re but a wisp of a girl.”

  “That explains the tongues.” She swung around. “Oh, why did it take me so long to grasp? It was standing right in front of me.”

  He stared at her, his confusion startlingly apparent. If she hadn’t known better, she might have mistaken it for the look of fear.

  “That is the purpose of your life.” She clasped her hands to her mouth, forcing herself not to scream from excitement, she who had always been so quiet and soft-spoken.

  “That is…what is?”

  “Languages are the connecting medium,” she exclaimed. “Lord Ravensdale, languages are intrinsic to your path. Bringing people together is the purpose of your life. Which is done with your knowledge of these various tongues.”

  “Actually, I was thinking the tongue symbolism might have another meaning, Miss Stanton,” he muttered. He loosened his slim silk cravat with two exaggerated movements of his hands. Promptly he stood and placed his arms around her waist, pulled her next to him on the couch in one swift movement, and illustrated his interpretation for her consideration.

  “Lord Ravensdale!” Alita exclaimed, gasping for breath, her indignation rising. She forced herself into a sitting position, her hand braced against his chest. She liked his touch, but she shouldn’t be kissing him, though she was beginning to forget why.

  “Why are you pushing me away, Miss Stanton? I must admit I find it difficult to know what you want from one minute to the next.”

  “I’m not certain I know myself.” Gradually the reasons began to break through her clouded thinking. “To be sure, no man has ever been so forward or improper toward me. And this after you have already informed me that you won’t be seeing me again, Lord Ravensdale.”