Talia’s cheeks reddened. “You really think they were out there? The whole time?”
Archer laughed again. “What happened to my wicked vixen?”
“I enjoy some things, but I’m not into exhibitionism.”
“You’re into a lot of things you had no idea you were into.”
She tried to look affronted, but failed miserably. “I’m not normally like this.”
He grinned. “Define normal.”
She narrowed her gaze, but there was a teasing light in her eyes. “Great. You’ll think of me as some kind of sex fiend forever.”
And right then Archer realized just how deeply he’d placed his heart in jeopardy. One word and he’d known. Forever.
Because the idea that someday he wouldn’t be with her was incomprehensible at that moment. How had that happened? Clearing his suddenly tight throat, he tried to cover the nervousness with a laugh. “No teasing,” he said, then winked. “And no worries on those screams, either. I doubt sound travels beyond these walls.”
She tried to smack him again, but he grabbed her hand and impulsively kissed her palm. “I’ll see if we’re clear while you make use of the bathroom. Forgiven?”
She nodded, but instead of the kiss he expected, she nipped his lower lip instead. He pulled back, surprised, but she merely imitated his expression, then strolled to the connecting bathroom door. Allowing the silk sarong he’d fashioned to loosen and slowly slide over her skin to pool on the floor behind her as she left.
“Dinner is already cold, you know,” he warned. “I don’t care if it sits.”
Her response was a laugh as she closed the door between them.
He was on his feet and halfway to the bathroom, thinking a nice joint shower would be just the thing, then stopped when he realized why he was following her. It wasn’t because he felt the need to make love again already. It was because … well, he missed her when she was gone. Silly and ridiculous, since he’d been having her for hours now and she’d only been gone for a few seconds. But there it was. Staring him in the face.
That and the word forever.
He managed to find his trousers and pulled them on, then wandered out to the main room. No one was there, but a huge dinner service had been set up in front of a still-crackling fire. He was pleased to see the dishes were heated, as well. “Thanks, Catriona,” he murmured. “For more than I can say.” He slid open one lid and his stomach contracted on a huge growl. He snagged a sugared carrot and wandered aimlessly about the room while waiting for Talia.
Now that his head was clearer, he wondered at Catriona’s choice of rooms. Had it just been an amusing little joke? Or was it a calculated move? And if so, what did it mean? He’d lost himself quickly to Talia’s needs, so quickly he hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps they hadn’t been alone since entering this chamber. He shifted his attention to the walls, to the shadows and nooks … but of course there would be no obvious surveillance, just as there had been none in the passageways. And yet, he’d felt watched there.
He hadn’t here, but was that because he’d been so wrapped up in Talia that his instincts hadn’t kicked in? He didn’t think so. But the thought that someone might have witnessed such a private act between them infuriated him. Had they made a recording and planned to use it to coerce him to do their bidding?
He was stalking toward the screen entrance when Talia entered the room from the other door wearing a silk robe the color of rubies. It was dazzling against her skin and the contrast with her dark hair robbed him of all thought.
She stopped in the golden doorway. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all. You look … amazing. The food is still warm.” He crossed back toward the table. No point in ruining what had been an incredible evening. He definitely didn’t want to alarm Talia. Despite her openness with him, her reaction to the idea that the guards might have overheard so much as a moan indicated how mortified she’d be if she thought someone had actually recorded them.
He realized then the real gift she’d given him this night. Trusting him with a part of herself that she wasn’t even comfortable admitting she had. Except to him. With him she was not only comfortable with her sexuality, she was downright playful with it. Only with him.
And he had another epiphany just then. He realized that he wanted to be the only man sharing that part of her. Which meant …?
“Are you okay? You look … ill.” She hurried over to him and felt his forehead. “You feel okay? Maybe we’d better eat.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Probably. I’m starving.”
Talia looked at the small black domes. “How do you open these?”
He smiled and tried to shove all his concerns aside. There was nothing to be done tonight except enjoy their meal. And make damn certain they were under the silk covers when they went to bed. He moved his hands over the sensor and one of the tops slid back. He showed Talia how to do it and let her do the others.
“Neat trick.” She leaned down. “It smells incredible. And I even recognize most of it.”
“Food hasn’t changed much, I don’t think.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t take anything for granted.”
Archer caught her eye just then. “Neither do I,” he said, imbuing the words with far more meaning than she could know. “Not anymore.”
She paused then, her smile caught halfway between a grin and one of confusion. He almost wished she’d reach out to him then, connect with him, so she’d know what he was feeling. Then he wouldn’t have to decide whether to speak of this huge thing he felt squeezing his heart. He wouldn’t have to take the risk of saying words he’d sworn since childhood never to say to anyone again. It was one thing to feel it—and that alone was so amazing he still hadn’t fully comprehended it. But sharing it was something else entirely. And despite his feelings right now, he still wasn’t sure he ever could.
He broke eye contact and began serving up their plates. Far too much to think about. Far too much yet to be done.
They were still sampling from the vast array of chafing dishes when Talia innocently rendered his planned retreat totally ineffective with a single volley. “You know a great deal about me. I mean, about my past,” she began. “I hardly know anything about you. I’d like to.”
He stilled, the ladle of gravy poised above his plate. He covered his sudden alarm with a grin. “I’d say you know a great deal about me,” he said,
She smiled, but there was that look in her eye, that determination he’d seen when she worked with a newly arrived orphan. He understood their panic now. Taking that step, handing over that trust, wasn’t easy. He’d handed her a great deal more than he’d even known he had to offer. But this … this was territory he was extremely uncomfortable with.
“You’ve never really spoken of your family.”
He clenched his fork so tightly he was surprised the heavy sterling didn’t bend. So here he was, close enough to someone to care what they thought, scared enough to want to lie and avoid the whole issue. “No, I haven’t,” he said tightly, keeping his attention on his plate. Please, let it go, Tali, just let it go. He begged silently, without shame, because he knew he couldn’t lie to her.
Of course, she didn’t let it go. But not in the way he’d expected. And that was his final undoing. She fell silent, until he found himself looking up at her. She’d dropped her gaze to her plate. Her voice, when she spoke, was quiet. “I’m guessing neither of us had an idyllic childhood.” She pushed her food around. “I missed my mum for a long, long time.”
It wasn’t calculated. And she was letting him off the hook, not trying to weasel more information out of him. So why he opened his mouth and said, “I didn’t miss mine,” he had no idea.
She looked up then and he met her eyes squarely. And what he saw wasn’t pity, or even morbid curiosity. What he saw was understanding. From someone who knew what it was to be abandoned, to be left behind, to be unwanted. And suddenly it wasn
’t a hard decision to make. He only hoped she wouldn’t be so turned off by his past that she distanced herself from him altogether. That was the risk he’d spent a lifetime avoiding.
If he never allowed anyone to get close, he never risked losing them. Of course, his whole life he’d believed he didn’t need anyone close, thereby avoiding the whole issue. He hadn’t counted on meeting someone who challenged that notion. Someone so important to him that he knew if he didn’t share the past that had shaped the man he’d become, then whatever closeness they achieved would be built on a hollow foundation. And nothing worthwhile was built on a hollow foundation. If he expected her to accept him, she had to know all about him.
“Right,” he said under his breath. So why was he so bloody petrified? He put his fork down. “My mother had a tough go of things.” He picked his fork up again. “She, uh, she was on her own at an early age. A mining town in Queensland. Not a great place for a woman alone. But she made a living.” He stirred at his food, then put his fork down again.
Talia reached over and took his hand in hers. “You don’t have to—”
He looked her directly in the eyes. “Yes. I do.”
She stilled, then she nodded, lacing her fingers through his. “I’m guessing you didn’t know your father, either, is that it?”
“Aye. My mum, she learned to survive. She was a good businesswoman. Managed to carve out a life there.”
Talia smiled. “So you come by your talents honestly?”
His grip on her hand tightened unwillingly. He made a conscious effort to relax. “I’ve always said that.” He’d said it a bit harshly and maybe he hadn’t been as understanding of his mother as he’d always told himself he was. “Hopefully I’ve a bit of my dad in me, as well.”
Talia’s eyebrows lifted. “What bit is that? I’ve always wondered what part of me is like my dad, for that matter like my mom, too. But it’s too much torture to spend time on it.”
“Agreed.” He took a deep breath. “Well, there’s no way around it, so here’s the thing. My mum’s business was selling her body. And she’d made it quite a commodity.”
“Oh, Archer, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” And oddly, it was, As terrifying as it was, it felt good to get it out. “Anyway, getting pregnant wasn’t part of her business plan. She tried to get rid of me.” He grinned briefly. “But I was a stubborn blodger, even before I was born.”
Talia smiled, but her eyes were sad. “What happened to you?”
“Well, being the businesswoman that she was, she fed and housed me, more or less as an investment. One that took five years to mature before she cashed in on it.”
“Oh, Devin!” Talia covered her mouth in horror.
He quickly reached for her hand and pulled it away. “No, not that way. But she had no intention of continuing my care and feeding, either. Cramped her already cramped lifestyle. Australia is a land colonized by convicts, but since your time much has happened there. When contact with other people … and by that I mean people not of this planet … was made, a certain ages-old trade sprang up once again.” He paused, then spit out the rest in one long breath. “A slave trade. I think she got her money’s worth and I got a firsthand lesson in the law of supply and demand. It’s held me in good stead in this life. But I’d like to think I’d do things different. That’s the bit of my dad I hope I got. Or maybe it’s the part that’s all me.”
“She sold you into slavery?” She wasn’t just horrified now, she was pissed. Archer rather liked that reaction.
“You were only a little boy!” She looked down at the hand that held hers, then turned them over. “Those lines. The scars.” She traced the thin, silvery lines that circled his wrists.
He knew, as she did now, that they also marked his ankles. Her eyes drifted to his neck, and he knew what she saw there, as well. There were other reminders, too. He hated the idea that he might repulse her now.
“I thought—” She stopped and swallowed. “I know you lead a fairly rough life, and I noticed the scars but I thought they were the battle wounds that came with a tough business.” She looked back at him, her eyes round and glassy. “I never imagined—Never would have thought—Oh, Devin.”
It wasn’t repulsion he saw there. It was pain. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her. She felt things too keenly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you this.”
“Hurt me? Hurt me! My God, Devin, do you really think me so self-involved?”
He squeezed her hand. “No, of course not. I just hate seeing you suffer.” He looked away for a moment, then back. “I’ve never told anyone about my past. It’s something I’ve never cared to explain, much less attempt to trade on. I’ve always felt it best to leave it where it is. Over.”
“I don’t blame you.” Talia held his gaze. “You have a very balanced attitude about this. I don’t think I would. I’d have probably ended up twisted with hatred or worse.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You’re a survivor like me.”
“You have more faith in me than I do, then,” she said. “What happened to her, do you know?” She immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry, I had no right to ask that. You asked to leave it in the past and I—”
“It’s okay. It was a long time before I was able to find out what happened to her. I managed to escape from bondage when I was eleven. I’ve been on my own ever since. I was nineteen when I finally found out what happened to her. As it happens, she died when I was about eight or so. Her business was profitable, but rough. As far as carrying any anger over it, I look at it this way: at least I survived. I understood that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother. It was probably better she gave me up.” And he was very careful not to expect unconditional love ever again.
“It’s not like she gave you up for adoption. She sold you!”
He shrugged. It was all he could do. “People do what they have to do. I’ve learned not to expect anything from anyone. Then I’m never disappointed.”
“That’s a harsh lesson for a five-year-old.”
“Well, you don’t get to pick when you learn things, easy or hard. You learned some rather harsh ones yourself at a tender age.”
She nodded, but shuddered. “True. But at least I knew I was loved. I still believe there is good in people. But I understand why you lost faith. I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“And I’d rather you didn’t.” He looked intently at her and she nodded, realizing what he was asking her. That was one area he’d as soon she never probed. “It wasn’t pretty and it changed me forever. But I’m not ashamed of it.”
“I should hope not. You could hardly be blamed.”
“Not everyone would be so forgiving. There is a definite stigma in coming from my particular past. But no, I don’t waste time with blame. It’s a lost cause. In the long run, what I lived through as a child shaped me into who I am today.” He looked at their joined hands and suddenly he felt tongue-tied. “I … I wanted you to know.” He looked up at her, his breath trapped in his chest. “If it changes anything, I’ll understand.”
She looked at him in that way she had that made him feel stripped naked. Only it wasn’t so uncomfortable now. In fact, he felt such a sense of relief he was almost shaky with it.
She smiled. “Oh, it changes things. But only for the good.” She lifted his hands and pressed a kiss to both of his wrists. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me.”
Before he could make an idiot of himself and begin to blubber, or do something equally unmanly, her face split into a wide grin.
Surprised by the sudden change, he asked, “What’s funny?”
She shook her head. “Well, not funny. Ironic. It occurs to me that I’ve been torturing myself over having a torrid affair with a man who sells his skills to the highest bidden, and now you’ve got me championing your career path. Pretty tricky piece of work there.”
He smiled. “Talia—”
She lifted her free hand, stopping h
im. “I’d be lying if I said I was a hundred-percent comfortable with what you do, but not because I’m passing any moral judgment. I meant what I said. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, not then, not now.” She looked at him intently, those gray eyes of hers filled with so much emotion. “I guess I hate the fact that you have to continue to put your life on the line to survive.”
“I’ve done all right.” He smiled, trying to soothe her, all the while stunned by the fact that she cared so deeply for him. “And I chose the business I’m in because I’m good at it. No one is making me do it. But it’s nice to know that someone’s worrying about me.” He stood and pulled her up beside him so that they were face-to-face. “No one has ever worried about me, save the people who hire me. But I think they’re mostly concerned about their investment.” He smiled, but it faded as he drew his thumb across her lip, a lip that quivered beneath his touch. “I don’t like for you to worry about me, Tali, but it does mean a great deal to me that you do. A great deal.” He leaned in and kissed her. It was that or go the rest of the distance and tell her he was falling in love with her.
Which he’d realized now he could never do. Not because he didn’t want to. He’d come a long way these past several hours. It was all but bursting inside him now that he’d made peace with the idea. But baring his soul to her had served to remind him of something he’d forgotten in his rush to explain himself. She was a sensitive woman who needed security and a life that wouldn’t test that sensitivity to an extreme. She also deserved a man who would be there for her. Not a man who gallivanted about the universe with little but luck to serve as a shield between life and death. And a thin shield it was, but he’d rather she didn’t know that.
No. Having even a piece of her heart was a treasure worth more than any amount of money. To put even that small piece in jeopardy of breaking was something he would never do. If he was ever to be proud of something, it would be that one selfless act.
And pride was a lonely, hollow victory. But it was victory enough if it meant keeping her heart intact and whole. Whole so that she could offer it to the right man. And that man wasn’t going to be him.
The Royal Hunter Page 21