“And injuring yourself in the ridiculous process,” he shot back.
I felt my eyes narrow. “It isn’t ridiculous. There are dead bugs in the grass under the bed we sleep in! That is pure ick!” I shouted.
“If you weren’t so bloody stubborn, you need clean rushes, you’d bloody well kiss me and I’d give you some bloody shoes!” he shouted back.
“I don’t want to bloody kiss you!” I yelled.
“Then you should have sat on your arse and kept your feet healthy and clean!” he returned on his own yell.
“I did that yesterday and I can’t do it again. It’s boring and my mother told me only stupid people get bored and I’m… not… stupid,” I fired back.
He leaned back and his brows knitted. “Your mother told you that?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother didn’t tell you that,” he declared bizarrely decisively.
“Yes, Tor, she did.”
“She did not.”
“Yes! She did!”
“Bloody hell, woman, she’s sweet as syrup and wouldn’t harm a fly but Dara Goode isn’t smart enough to think something like that much less enunciate it.”
I scrambled to my feet, planted my hands at my own hips and snapped, “Are you calling my mother stupid?”
“Gods, Cora, she’s beloved but she’s not bright. It’s not nice but it’s well-known. Even you told me she’s dull as a post,” he retorted.
“I never said such a…”
Oh shit.
I never said such a thing because the Dara Goode in my world, my mother, was not dull as a post. Nowhere near it.
But the other Cora probably said that about her mother.
Blast!
“God!” I exclaimed, looking at the ceiling. “I hate the Cora of this world! She’s an utter… oof!”
There I was again on his shoulder.
“Tor!” I shrieked, beating at his back and kicking out my legs. “Let me down.”
“Quiet,” he commanded, squatting to pick up one of the sacks.
“I said… let… me…”
Crack!
Another slap on the ass.
Serious ouch.
God, I hated it when he did that.
“You’re having a bloody bath and you’re putting on some bloody clean clothes and some damned, bloody shoes,” he declared.
Oh.
Well then.
Okay.
He dumped me on Salem, swung up behind me, dug his heels in, barked, “Hee-yah!” and Salem burst out of the mouth of the cave.
I was on my belly but I carefully twisted and pulled myself to sitting even though my butt cheek still smarted from where he hit me and in this position he clearly felt the need to circle me with an arm and I knew this because he did exactly that.
I faced forward, ducked and swayed with him as the branches passed us and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading on my face or the word from hitting my brain.
And that word was, goodie.
* * * * *
Okay, let me tell you this…
The clothes in this world rocked!
We were back in the cave, I’d bathed in the river (it was still cold but he had soap, the soap smelled like lavender and I’d cleaned myself with it from head-to-toe) and I had on clothes and slippers.
And what clothes.
They were straight from a renaissance festival but they kicked ass.
A silky, pale pink, flowy top with gathers around the neckline and full flowing sleeves that gathered at the wrists. Also full, flowing skirts, these of a dusky purple with petticoats, these a lovely mint green and the bottoms were dripping with a same-color, glorious lace. To cinch in the flowy top, I was wearing a skintight vest, royal blue that hugged me at the midriff and shoved up my breasts over its top, somehow providing support at the same time looking way, freaking cool. With the low-cut neckline of the shirt and the tight fit of the vest, I was displaying serious cleavage but from what I could tell, it… looked… awesome. There was also a braided belt in all the colors I was wearing that I tied to hang low on my waist.
And last, but not least, the underwear was d-i-v-i-n-e, divine. Silky, ivory shorts with delicate lace at the bottoms and matching camisole with lace at the bottom and bodice. These fit perfectly, clinging to the right places, tight to the right places looking crazy fabulous but comfortable as all get out.
And the capper was the shoes. Sweet little flat, no-heeled (but thick suede-soled) slippers made of purple satin. They were simple and comfortable at the same time they were fab…you… las.
I didn’t know how I’d feel wearing something like this day in and day out. There was a lot of a fabric, the skirts were danged heavy and I didn’t think it would be that great if it was hot or I had to do manual labor or something like that.
But right now, they were great. They felt strange on my body but they oddly fit perfectly, the colors were to-die-for and they were not that blasted nightgown (which I also, by the by, took the opportunity with the lavender soap to clean in the river).
For once in nearly three days I was content.
We’d come back, Tor had disappeared, I’d finished my sweeping, arranged the grass and hides and although I was starved, my body was tired, I was clean and I had on a killer outfit.
This would work for me for now. This was lemons and I was making some freaking tasty lemonade, let me tell you.
The hide was swept back at the opening but Noctorno didn’t enter. He stood there holding the skins back and scowling at me.
“Yo,” I greeted him with a smile.
He kept scowling at me.
Then he grunted, “Come.”
I blinked before asking, “What?”
“We’re going to dinner.”
I blinked again and, get this, I felt my heart get light.
“What?” I breathed.
“I need a pulse and you need food. Come.”
“A pulse?”
“The feel of the land, a sense of what’s happening out there… the pulse. Now, come.”
I shot to my feet, still smiling and agreed with an, “Okay.”
He glowered at me as I walked (with only a slight limp, I had on my killer slippers but that didn’t mean my feet weren’t still raw) toward him.
The minute the pelts fell into place behind us, he swept me up in his arms and I let out a surprised girlie shriek before my arm automatically circled his shoulders.
“What on –?”
“Gods, Cora, just be quiet,” he muttered on a sigh.
“Okey dokey,” I muttered back.
If he wanted to carry me, so be it. I mean, the cave wasn’t that big so he didn’t have to carry me far.
And anyway, I was feeling good. I was clean, had on actual clothes and he was going to feed me without me having to kiss him (or alternate activities) to get it.
I was not going to argue.
He set me on Salem, swung into the saddle behind me, rounded me with an arm and dug his heels into the steed.
Salem bolted out of the cave.
The sun was setting and it was close to dark as we cantered down the mountain.
“Is this safe?” I asked.
“We’ll soon find out,” was Tor’s not very reassuring response.
That shut me up.
But only for awhile.
“This outfit kicks ass,” I informed him and his arm tightened around my midriff in a weird way, like the movement was spontaneous and he didn’t mean to do it.
Then he asked, “Pardon?”
“This outfit,” I pointed to myself and twisted my neck to look back at him, “kicks freaking ass. I love it. It’s awesome.”
He looked down at my face as one of his thighs moved almost imperceptibly under my legs and Salem slowed.
“You like it?”
“No, Tor, I love it. The colors are beautiful and the shoes are totally fab…you…las.”
“Gods,” he whispered, his eyes moving over my face, “you
like it.”
“Okay, you can say I like it when I told you I love it. That’s cool. Whatever,” I replied and turned to face front again. “And thanks for the bath. That river is cold as Siberia but it feels nice being clean.”
He made no response to this except his arm got tighter again, this time it felt like he meant to do it and it go so tight I slid the half an inch back so the side of my behind was snug in his crotch (because I was riding sidesaddle) and my back was tight to his front.
With no response from Tor, I kept blabbing as I watched the lush forest trees and beautiful stone of the mountain slide by. “And I’m so glad to get out of that cave for dinner. I know you need to take the pulse but I’m glad you’re taking me with you. That’s very cool of you. Thanks.”
Still no response but I felt his fingers open up at my side so they spanned my ribs then they flexed in.
“God!” I breathed, looking around. “This place is magnificent. Totally out of a movie. The colors are so… I don’t know… colorful. The trees seem to have ten times as many leaves. The stone seems like it’s almost glossy. It’s bizarre but so stinking cool. I wish I had a camera and I could take pictures. No one at home would believe this.”
Finally, he spoke. “Camera?”
I twisted to look at him again and nodded. “Yep, it’s this gadget that’s really small but it takes pictures. Do you have paintings here? Portraits? Landscapes?”
“Of course,” he grunted, staring down at me.
“Well, a camera takes a portrait or a landscape by touching a button, you load it on your computer, print it out and voila!” I threw out a hand. “You have your picture.”
“That’s mad,” he muttered.
I grinned up at him. “I know but it’s true.”
“So my world is more colorful than your world?” he asked and my light heart lightened more.
Was I finally convincing him?
I nodded fervently. “Yes, totally. It’s hard to explain but the birds are more vibrant. The flowers more dazzling. The river is cleaner than any river I’ve ever seen.” I tilted my head to the side. “There’s a lot of pollution in my world.”
“Pollution?”
“People litter, big corporations dump waste. It’s not good.”
“Love, I don’t know what the bloody hell you’re talking about.”
I looked into his sky blue eyes and realized I was glad he didn’t.
Then I said, “Well, I guess my world has a curse of sorts too but all of man caused it by getting rid of their rubbish, and we create a lot of rubbish and some of it is unnatural, in the rivers, the oceans, burying it under the fields.”
“Why would they do that?”
I shrugged and turned forward. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “Because we’re stupid, short-sighted and greedy.” I looked at the darkening landscape that was still verdant in comparison with my world even with the falling night. “I wonder,” I went on in a whisper, “if my world looked like your world before we destroyed it.”
“Maybe it did,” he remarked.
“That would suck,” I muttered.
“Suck?” he asked.
“It would be bad.”
Silence then, “Yes, love, it would.”
I fell silent and Salem cantered down the mountain, found a road and took it. Tor’s leg moved under mine again and Salem speeded up to a gentle canter. At the same time I felt Tor’s thumb start moving, up and down, stroking me at my side.
That felt nice.
Oh man.
“Tor?”
“Yes, Cora.”
The trees rushed by, Salem took us around a curve and the road started to follow the river. The new moon shown on its translucent waters, my breath caught in my throat and I forgot what I was going to say.
“Cora?”
“What?”
“You called me, my love.”
“Oh, right,” I whispered and rested against him. “I forgot what I was going to say.”
He rested his jaw against the side of my head.
“It’ll come to you,” he murmured.
“Okay,” I replied on a whisper and relaxed completely against him.
His thumb stopped stroking but all his fingers tightened into the flesh at my side.
I sighed and gazed at the view.
Chapter Eight
Princess
“Holy crap! Look at that!” I cried and pointed straight ahead at the vision that lay before me.
A village at the base of the river. A quaint, adorable village with thatched roof, timbered buildings that hugged the riverside and crawled partially up the mountain, their windows lit warmly and, I leaned forward and peered ahead, an abundance of colorful lanterns hanging from the roof ends. There were short piers jutting into the river with small, charming wood boats attached to the piers that also sported lanterns.
It was unbelievable!
And as we got closer, it got more unbelievable for it, like my (or the other Cora’s) house, was filled with flower beds, window boxes and planters burgeoning with thriving blooms everywhere. Not only that, there were glistening cobblestone streets and sparkling diamond-paned windows in the buildings.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathed.
“It’s a village, Cora,” Tor informed me and I twisted quickly to look at him.
“No, honey, it’s gorgeous,” I whispered, watched him blink, slowly again, then I turned back in order not to miss anything.
We made it to the edge of the village and even though night had fallen, people were wandering the side of the road.
“Heya,” I said on a smile when a man looked up at us and started.
“Well, uh… hullo there,” he replied hesitantly as we trotted past.
“Cora,” Tor said low.
“Yep,” I replied then a woman lifted her head, looked at us and she started too but I caught her eyes and called, “Hello!” and capped it with a wave.
I turned, looked around Tor’s body and kept waving until I saw her lift a hand and a tentative smile hit her face.
“I’m seeing we need to make a deal,” he remarked.
I straightened and looked up at him. “A deal?”
“You need to be smart in the village. None of your games.”
I stared at him and I felt my light heart drop a notch.
“My games?”
“You’re Cora Hawthorne here.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“You,” he answered.
“I’m Cora Goode,” I told him.
“Yes, love, you were until you took my name.”
Oh. Right.
And his last name was Hawthorne. Noctorno Hawthorne. All together that was a pretty badass name.
“So, what I’m saying is, you’re Cora Goode Hawthorne here,” he went on.
“Well, I’m kind of Cora Goode, um… Hawthorne everywhere.”
“No,” his face went ultra serious, “you’re this world’s Cora Goode Hawthorne.”
My heart started to feel heavy.
“What?” I whispered.
“I think you understand me.”
“These people know me?”
“You’re Cora Hawthorne,” he explained without explaining.
“You mean,” I moved closer to him and whispered, “they know I’m a bitch?”
“No,” he answered.
Oh man!
My heart skipped.
“You mean they know I started the curse?” I breathed.
He sighed in a way that indicated he was seeking patience and he replied, “No, Cora, they know you’re a Hawthorne.”
He pulled back on the reins, Salem stopped but I felt my brows draw together.
“What does that mean?” I asked but he didn’t answer.
He swung his leg around, dismounted with practiced ease then his hands spanned my waist and he pulled me down and set me between him and Salem.
Close between him and Salem.
Then he tipped his chin down, ca
ught my eyes in the bright lights of the gaily lit lanterns and muttered, “Right, your game.”
My previously light heart sunk like a rock.
I wasn’t convincing him.
Damn.
“Tor,” I whispered but said no more when his big hand came up and curled warm around my neck.
“It means, love, that you’re mine and what’s mine is part of me and I’m royalty.”
My body jolted and my voice was a muted shriek when I cried, “What?”
“Quiet,” he clipped, not releasing my eyes.
I got up to my toes and whispered, “You’re royalty?”
“Yes.”
“Royalty,” I repeated, just to confirm.
“Yes,” he forced out through his teeth.
“Honest to God, blue blood royalty?” I kept at it, not taking it in.
His brows shot together as he replied, “Gods, woman, my blood’s red just like yours.”
“You know what I mean,” I returned on a hiss, going further up on my toes and my fingers curling into his shirt to keep myself from toppling over at my precarious position and at the shock of his news.
“No, I don’t.”
Shit. They didn’t have the term blue blood here either.
All right. Moving on.
“What are you? A baron? A duke?”
“A prince.”
A prince!
“What?” I shouted.
His fingers at my neck squeezed and his face got to within an inch from mine. “Woman, quiet.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Can we not do this?”
“You’re a prince?”
He looked over my head. “I see we’re going to do this.”
I shook my head in shock and disbelief while chanting, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” over and over again.
“Cora.”
“Oh my God.”
“Cora.”
“Oh my God!”
“Cora,” he clipped, “stop saying that or I’ll kiss you quiet.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“Get hold of yourself,” he ordered.
I stared up at him. Then I asked, “Your father is the king?”
“Yes, love, that’s what being a prince means,” he answered with waning patience.
“Holy crap,” I whispered.
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