by T. M. Cromer
“Too bad you moved.”
He pursed his lips and blew her a kiss. “Stop trying to turn me on, Rorie. I’m not making love with you until we resolve our issues,” he lied. The truth was, if she stripped naked, he’d be on her faster than she could say yes.
“Bugger off, Alastair.”
“I only want to bugger you, my love.”
Bright pink blossomed across her pale porcelain-like skin. “Not happening.”
“No, not until you admit you love me and stop this nonsense, it won’t.”
“Do hold your breath, darling. Maybe you’ll do us both a favor and expire.”
“Ah, Rorie, you can try to hide your feelings with surliness, but you forget I have empathic abilities.”
“Then you are sure to feel my rage.”
Yes, he felt every single prick of her anger across his skin. He also recognized that she was confused about her feelings for him. She wanted to hate him, but she was torn by the old emotions bubbling up. Emotions she wouldn’t know how to deal with due to the loss of portions of her soul. The darkest part of her was left. The part that would become more bitter and hateful as time went on unless magical intervention took place.
He stared moodily out at the sun setting in the distance. “It will be bedtime in a few hours. We should either discuss the past or our sleeping arrangements because the door is staying locked if we don’t figure some things out.”
* * *
Aurora watched Alastair’s impassive face as he crossed to the French doors. What he was thinking was a mystery. Did he wish to make love tonight? For a moment, there was a distinct spark in his eye, the one that told her he was feeling amorous. In a flash, it was gone, and he was back to the austere man he presented as lately.
Had he changed so much? With her, he’d never been formal. He had allowed Aurora to see his softer side. But this quiet, harder-edged man made her nervous. She didn’t know what to do to close the distance. Perhaps talking out their feelings was best, but she didn’t know how to be intimate after all this time. Didn’t know how to bypass the anger that never seemed to be far from the surface.
She was downright terrified. So much so that she wanted to lose her lunch. What if he didn’t love her anymore? What were her options if he, along with the rest of the world, had moved on? Did that make her insignificant to everyone? An afterthought?
Without warning, Alastair faced her. They were less than a foot apart, and the intensity in his sapphire gaze made her squirm internally. Made her want to hide from him even though she knew she couldn’t. When his gaze dropped to her mouth and he moistened his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, Aurora’s knees turned to jello. It seemed she could still feel desire at least.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He tilted his head and gave her a questioning look.
“Okay, I would like you to help me. You may do whatever magic you need to in order to restore what was lost.”
His expression softened to understanding, and butterflies clustered in Aurora’s belly. Here was a glimpse of the old Alastair. The man she’d once adored to distraction.
“Come here, my love.” His voice was warm and intimate, causing the butterflies to riot.
Wordlessly, she closed the distance and stood before him.
“You will feel a burning sensation throughout your body. It’s more intense than your cells warming for simple magic and may cause you some discomfort. We’ll do this in stages over the next few days to weeks, depending on how well you tolerate it. Tell me when you are ready.”
“I’m ready,” she whispered. She wasn’t ready at all. Or at least not ready for him to touch her.
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he covered the area over her heart with his right hand. He had to feel the hammering pulse. Did he know it was from his nearness, or did he believe it was from what was about to occur?
He brought up his left palm and covered her forehead. “Breathe.”
As she inhaled deeply, the warming started. The instant connection between her heart and head forced her to shut her eyes against the powerful impact. Next came the burning Alastair had warned her about. It started in her chest and expanded outward. A rolling boil. Spontaneous combustion seemed like a very real threat. Biting her lip against the pain and to prevent herself from crying out, she dug her nails into his forearms. She wasn’t sure if she should jerk his hands from her body, or let him turn her into ash. Surely all her problems would be solved.
When she could stand no more, he eased away. Second by second, her body temperature returned to normal. Aurora took stock of her person. Everything seemed to be in working order with the exception of a few achy joints. Slowly, she inched her eyes open. Once again, he was studying her as if she were a bug under a microscope.
“Are the cramped muscles and joint pain normal?”
He nodded once. “I’ve been told it’s like what mortals experience when they contract the flu.”
“My body feels like it’s been run over by a semi truck.”
“It should pass soon enough.”
Once, he would have been more solicitous. A time when he would have swept her into his arms and gently laid her on the bed, maybe placed a cool washcloth on her forehead. Sadness swamped her.
“When did you change, Alastair?” The question was impulsive, but no less genuine. “You’re so detached all the time.”
Surprise sent his brows skyward. “Is that how you see me?”
“Yes. The man I knew was warm and loving. With me and with the children.”
He took on a thoughtful, brooding look. Finally, he shrugged and, with a gentleness that stunned her, he cupped her face with his hands. “You were the one person who kept me human, Rorie. You are the warmth in my soul. Without you, I’m a cold, unfeeling bastard.” He sneezed, and Aurora instinctively clenched a fist and pushed a weak pulse of magic toward the window in an effort to ward off the locusts that were sure to follow.
His wry grin shot straight to her heart. “Sorry, my love.”
Her hands came up and grasped his wrists, but she didn’t tug his large, warm palms from where they cradled her jaw. “It happens,” she murmured.
His bark of laughter made her smile.
One thumb stroked along the edge of her jawline as Alastair sobered. For a long moment, he said nothing; he simply took in her face, scanning each little bit as if to memorize her features. Finally, he spoke, and the words came out ragged and raw. “I miss you. With each year that passed, a part of me lost hope. The constant battle to keep that hope alive took its toll. It wrung out more energy than I had to expend.” He shook his head and offered her a bittersweet half-smile. “Maybe I come across as detached, but I’m far from it, my love. So very far from it. I’m as attached to you as a man can be. I love you. I’ve never stopped.”
Her vision blurred as her nasal passages filled. She was about to have a horrific cry. The weight of emotions instantly crushed her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
Alastair sensed her distress and scooped her up to cradle her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against the strong column of his throat. They transitioned to sitting, and he encased her in his comforting embrace. He murmured sweet nothings as he rubbed small circles on her back, and she became ivy, clinging to the hard wall of his chest.
“I thought you only cared for me out of obligation,” she eventually confessed when the sobs had receded and she could take a steady breath.
His body jerked. “Obligation? Rorie, when have you ever known me to feel obligated to anyone? I’m the person least likely to do anything out of obligation.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds ignorant.”
“Exactly. I cared for you for over twenty years. If it were an obligation, I’d have hired someone and left you in a facility or here at Thorne Manor. Never would I have set you up in my personal space.”
“But when I woke up, you were so cold.”
He sighed and s
hook his head. “At first, it was caution. Then, when I saw you were angry with me, I strove to be considerate of your feelings. But multiple times now you’ve told me you hated me. How was I supposed to react?”
“My emotions are in an uproar. Everything I feel is a complete contradiction.” She laid her palm flat over his heart and smoothed the material of his button-down shirt. How did she explain this chaotic state she found herself in? “I desperately wanted to see the children, but I knew too much time had gone by. I felt they wouldn’t know me, even if they had the slightest memories of their childhood.” She inhaled deeply and met his steady gaze. “I never expected to come back, Alastair. Never once. Life was beautiful in the Otherworld. My parents were on the other side, and so was your mother. The peace was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. To be thrust back into a decrepit body with little muscle control and to be expected to act as if not a day had passed when an entire lifetime has, it’s beyond my ability to cope.”
“You seem to be coping just fine.”
“No. I’m getting through each day the best I can. Until you restored my spark a few minutes ago, I was an empty shell just going through the motions.”
“And now?”
“I feel somewhat more normal, if not completely whole.”
“What about us?”
Did she detect a slight crack in his normally stoic façade? “Am I allowed to take longer to decide?”
He nodded and looked away. “Of course.”
“Alastair?” When he glanced up, Aurora saw his trepidation. “I don’t hate you. I hated how you made me feel as if I were an afterthought or a burden.”
“You were never either of those,” he denied fervently.
“I need time to discover who I am in this new place and time. I need to be able to reconnect my emotions with the people around me.”
With the tip of his index finger, Alastair traced the arch of her brow. “What about Preston?”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand the question. “I can’t dismiss his kindness out of hand. But, no, I don’t see myself as his wife any longer.”
“And if you find you don’t love me anymore?”
“It’s not about that, Alastair. I was smitten with the teenager you were, but you stole my heart completely the moment you so confidently sat down at my table all those years later in London.” She sighed her frustration. “Can’t you understand that I don’t know who I am anymore? I don’t know what I like or don’t like. I’ve been lost, and now I have to find myself, to love myself before I can love another.”
“I understand, my love. More than you know. But I can admit to being afraid, can’t I?”
“Me, too.”
And with that comment, the lock on the bedroom clunked and the door swung wide.
9
“It’s getting late. I’ll leave you to your sleep.”
Alastair shifted to climb from the bed, but Aurora gripped his arm and held him in place.
“Don’t go.” She released his forearm and stroked the light hair on his forearm. “I…it…we…” She grimaced and shook her head. “Obviously, I don’t know what I want to say except that I don’t want you to leave.”
They had spent the last four hours talking and catching up on his life and the lives of her children since she’d been in stasis. He hated to admit it, but he was talked out. Still, when he looked into her beseeching blue eyes, he found it difficult to walk away.
“You’re not tired?”
“I am, but I don’t want to be alone.” She crinkled her nose and squinted one eye. “That’s not to say I’m ready to do more than sleep, but…” She shrugged. “Please stay with me.”
“Okay, but what do you say we raid the kitchen. Perhaps we’ll find some of those incredible cinnamon rolls Winnie creates.” He gave her hopeful puppy-dog eyes and grinned when she laughed.
“It’s always been about food with you, Alastair. It’s no wonder the family was able to drug you.” She must’ve read the guilt in his expression because she said, “What?”
“I discovered their antics early on. I willingly took the proffered cookie,” he confessed.
She pulled back and frowned her displeasure. “You knew what they intended?”
“I figured it out soon enough.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
Alastair cupped the nape of her neck and drew her close. With a brush of his nose against hers, he leaned in to speak directly into her ear. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She shoved him, hard.
Laughing, he bound from the bed and grabbed her hand. “Come on, I’m sure I smell the aroma of fresh-baked goods.”
Like small children, they crept hand-in-hand down the staircase, tiptoeing and trying not to laugh.
“Mind the step,” he whispered. “It still squeaks.”
“Why wasn’t it repaired by now?” Aurora griped.
“Early warning system to the occupants of the house.” He held up a finger to his lips. “Quiet, or you’ll get us caught.”
When they were on the last set of steps, he pointed to the kitchen table directly within their line of sight. “I was right.”
“Even if you weren’t, I’m sure you would never admit it.”
“Ouch. That hurt.”
“But no less true, darling.”
“No. No less true,” he agreed with a chuckle, thrilled to hear the word “darling” from her lips. He helped her to sit, prepared them both a cup of tea, then straddled the bench so he was facing her. One bite of the delicious pastry made him groan his appreciation. “Winnie may be a better cook than you.”
“Give me some of that.” Her eyes rolled back with her pleasure. “Mmm. You’re wrong, you know.”
He gave her a questioning look as he ripped off another piece of the cinnamon roll. “How’s that?”
“There is no ‘may be’ about it. Winnie is a better cook than I am. Or at least a better baker.”
Alastair fed her half his bite. When she licked the frosting from his fingers, he bit back a frustrated moan. By the looks of the wicked gleam in her eyes, she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You’re playing with fire, Aurora.”
“Rorie.”
He tilted his head and stared at her. “I thought you didn’t want me to call you that anymore.”
Running a finger through the frosting, she smeared it on his lips. “I changed my mind. It’s a woman’s prerogative.”
He lightly bit her index finger before closing his mouth around the digit. With his tongue, he cleaned the sweet icing until her damp skin glistened in the low light. He kissed the tip and set her hand back on the table. “Just ask.”
Surprise made her jaw drop.
“How do you know I intended to ask anything?”
“You haven’t changed that much, my love.”
She bit her lip, and he was reminded of Summer. Their daughter made the same gesture in her nervousness.
“Do you think Jace is still alive?” she blurted.
“I do. You never saw him in the Otherworld, correct?”
“Not that I remember, but my older memories are beginning to fade somewhat.”
“I think Jace is in hiding. I don’t know why, but I intend to find out.”
“You’ll help me find my brother?”
“Yes. I’d always planned to. Preston, Summer, and I spoke briefly about it last night. We were supposed to address it again this morning, but I didn’t want to interrupt your time with your daughters.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He scooped a small dollop of frosting on his finger and touched it to her pert nose. When she scowled, he chuckled.
“I want to go with you to find him.”
He sobered and shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ll find.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m going to insist you stay here and recover more fully, Rorie.”
“Insist all you bloody well want. I’m goi
ng to help find my brother.”
“Stubborn.”
She smiled and tapped him lightly on the cheek. “Indeed.”
Watching her now, seeing her so animated and determined, made him happy. Happier than he’d been in years and years. Yet the idea that she might put herself in danger again, make herself a target for him or Jace, made Alastair’s gut clench.
“If I allow you to go with me, you must promise not to take unnecessary risks this time.”
“If you allow me?” Her tone turned dark and challenging. “I can go all on my own if need be.”
He reached to straighten a tie he’d forgotten to put on. With an irritated huff of breath, he ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. If we, as a couple of independent and intelligent adults, determine your presence is our best course of action, please promise you won’t take unnecessary risks this time. No jumping in front of poisoned bullets or offering yourself in exchange for me or your brother.”
Her expression softened. “Thank you, and yes. I promise I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“That’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
They stared at one another for a short time. Alastair noted the changes time had wrought. They weren’t many, perhaps an additional faint line on her face in places, but nothing that would detract from her classic beauty. His gaze traveled over her new short hairdo, and he grinned. The length and style suited her. The blue emphasized the color of her eyes.
“I like it.”
Her hand went up to touch her shorn locks. “You do? It’s not ridiculous on a woman my age?”
“No. It’s perfect.”
A pleased smile played around her mouth. Alastair had to mentally restrain himself from kissing those lovely lips. “Have you had enough to eat?” He cleared the gruffness from his voice with a sip of his tea.
“Yes.” She stood and reached for his hand. “Walk with me?”
Outside, they strolled through the estate gardens. Alastair plucked a rose and ran a finger over the petals.
“Caeruleus.”
When the color shifted to the brilliant azure hue of her hair, he handed her the flower.