by Karen Anders
A LOUD THUMP WOKE CHRISTIEN. He opened his eyes and at first was disoriented. Then memories came flooding back. He was in Tally’s bed, in her room.
He smiled when he heard her muffled curse above him and had to wonder what had gotten her out of bed so early on her morning off.
He stretched and marveled at how good it felt to be here.
Staying in her bed all night long had felt amazingly, perfectly right.
Standing, he slipped on his underwear and jeans. He could smell the wonderful aroma of coffee. The plan: downstairs for a cup, then up to where it sounded like Tally was shoving around furniture.
In the hall, Christien tripped, feeling as if two hands had settled like ice against his bare back and pushed. He smelled the scent of burned ashes, candle wax, and thought for a brief second he’d heard the sound of drums. His thoughts scattered as he fell forward, but caught himself just in time.
Resting for a moment against the polished wood as adrenaline surged into his system, he turned to look behind him and caught the sight of something. He blinked and looked again, but nothing was there.
Feeling a bit foolish, he descended the steps slowly.
Tally must have decided to move the boxes from the office up to the attic. He remembered she’d said something about sorting artifacts that had to do with the captain.
In the kitchen, he pulled a cup from the cupboard and went to the counter and poured coffee from the pot. He’d been content to date casually without commitments. Keeping his emotions out of the equation had been easy, but this morning realized that it was a matter of finding the right woman. Now, making promises was all he could think about.
His short time with Tally was no longer just about great sex and how compatible they were in bed. He was more aware than ever, that with each moment that passed, being her temporary lover wasn’t going to do it for him. He wanted—needed—more than a short-term affair.
His focus had shifted and there was no going back. He wanted to move forward, get her to commit to him, have her voice that this feeling inside him wasn’t one-sided.
On the way up the stairs, Christien could hear the sound of Tally’s voice.
“Is the spyglass one of yours?”
As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Tally standing in the middle of a ton of boxes, old clothes, maps and furniture. In one hand she held an old spyglass, the brass tarnished, and in the other, she held a rag.
“Tally?”
She whipped around and smiled in that strange way as if he’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t.
“Hey, there’s coffee downstairs.”
“Already had a cup. Followed my nose. Can I help you out?” he asked.
“Sure. I was just about to polish this.” She looked self-conscious and wary.
Her tone was reserved, too, as was her expression, which Christien found ironic since that should have been his reaction to their intimate morning-after situation.
“You didn’t have to stay the night just for me, Christien.”
Christien took the spyglass and rag out of her hands.
He found a place to sit and started polishing the eyepiece.
“Do you always talk out loud like that?”
“I didn’t even realize that I was doing it. Did you get something to eat?”
“No, not yet. Maybe when we get some of this handled, we can go down to Café Eros and get one of Chloe’s beignets?”
“That sounds heavenly. I’ve gotten a lot done.”
“What time did you get up?”
“About five. After we made love, I couldn’t sleep.”
And he noticed she averted her eyes. He was quite sure it wasn’t because of modesty. The fact that she’d left the bed in the wee hours of the morning the first time they’d made love wasn’t lost on him.
“So do you usually spend the night?” she asked slanting him a speculative look.
“Not usually.”
She blinked at him, obviously shocked by his confession. Then the significance of his comment sank in, and a quick flash of alarm shimmered in her eyes. Was he going too fast for her? At this point, he decided he had no choice, because he suspected he only had a handful of days left to convince her that they were meant to be together. He wanted her in his life. Permanently.
He loved her.
His heart pounded hard and fast. An adrenaline rush swept through him as he finally put the words to the emotions tumbling around in his chest. He didn’t fight the sentiment, didn’t deny its existence. Instead, he allowed it to flow through him, and let himself get used to the feeling of knowing that this one special woman complemented him so perfectly, in ways that made him feel whole and complete, physically and emotionally.
He kept his revelation to himself for the time being. He suspected that if she knew the depth of his feelings for her, she’d panic and withdraw from him more than she already had this morning. And that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take with her and their relationship just yet.
He slipped his arm around her waist, lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with a passion that seemed to grow stronger every time he touched her. Her hands came to rest on his chest, and his mouth seduced hers until she finally gave him what he wanted from her—a soft, surrendering sigh and the tension in her limbs replaced with the press of her lush curves against him.
“You’re pretty good at that, Christien.”
“Thanks.”
“Lots of practice, I bet,” she laughed lightly and moved smoothly out of his embrace, still skittish with the morning-after intimacy.
He’d hoped to ease her misgivings about staying the night, but the glimpse of insecurity he detected in her tone spoke volumes. It also gave him another clue that she was feeling uncertain about the change in their relationship, and about him.
“Listen to me. I sound jealous. Sorry for the third degree.” She backed up, knocking over a small box. The lid opened and the contents spilled out.
She looked around dismayed, but he took her hands in his, wanting to soothe her. There had been many women in his life, but Tally wasn’t just another woman. Not any longer. He recognized and accepted that fact. And he supposed it was time he offered up a little proof to her of that realization.
He touched his fingers beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his. Her wide eyes flickered with a vulnerability that wreaked havoc with his insides. A vulnerability he took very seriously.
He drew a deep breath and tried to reassure her of his intent. “I’ve never told any woman the things I’ve told you, Tally. Ever.”
She looked at him, her eyes searching his, and then she seemed to shut down, but moved into the circle of his arms. “You’re a very sweet man,” was all she said.
He held her for a few minutes, and then she broke away from him. “I’d better get everything sorted, now that I’ve made a start.”
Christien bent down and began to put the contents of the small box back inside when he saw a white envelope with flowers all over the face. Tally’s name was written in a beautiful feminine hand. When he turned it over, the envelope was sealed.
He realized it had never been opened.
He turned to her and held up the letter. “Tally…”
She saw the envelope and snatched it out of his hand. She threw it back in the box, quickly shoveling in everything else that had tipped onto the floor before Christien could make out what anything was.
“Tally, it hasn’t been opened.”
“I know,” she said in a clipped tone.
“But…”
“I’m not going to open it, Christien.”
“Why?”
“It’s from my mother.”
He wondered when, if ever, someone had been there for Tally or if it was in her nature to protect herself and keep her emotions locked up tight inside her. She was afraid of losing the people she loved and her coping mechanism was to stay distant. The arguments with her brother, her misplaced belief that she could shove her mo
ther into a box and close the lid. The emotions of that strong and important relationship just didn’t die. He knew.
While Christien intended to give her brother a dressing down for worrying his sister, Tally had to face the fact that Mark was a grown man and could lead his own life. He didn’t condone the way that he’d decided to treat his sister. It was clear he wasn’t going to kowtow to her anymore. It was clear in his absence, his silence. And any resulting consequences were Mark’s to bear.
All Christien could do was show her that he’d be there for her, to make sure she knew how much he cared. In the meantime, he’d protect her to the best of his ability and do his damnedest to locate her brother and end her worry.
After that, any future they might have together was up to Tally.
11
IT SEEMED THAT EVERYTHING about today was utterly disturbing. Having Christien fill her bed and her room with his unsettling, sexy presence, having him confess to her that she was very special to him, and now her memory box turning over, spilling out painful secrets she never wanted revealed to anyone.
Her hand trembled as she slammed the lid back on and shoved the box under a table.
The captain was still standing in the corner of the attic. He’d been telling her what was his and what wasn’t while Christien had slumbered below her. Now he remained there, his eyes filled with compassion and a gentleness that she thought would have been beyond a two-hundred-year-old ghost.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Christien asked, his voice soft.
“About what?”
“About that box and the letter.”
“It’s simple. My mother left and she wrote me a note. Big deal. Do you think that anything she has to say will make me hate her less? I had to give up everything to care for Mark. It was her responsibility, not mine. And now, I can’t even get Mark to find something worthwhile in his life. Here he is running around doing a menial job when he has so much talent inside him.”
Christien tried to step toward her and soothe her, but Tally sidled backward.
“I need you to find my brother. Everything I want hinges on him. Don’t ask me for details. Just, please find my brother.”
“I promised you I would. I won’t let you down and I would never ask for something you’re not willing to give.”
“I’m getting desperate, Christien. My time is running out.”
“Maybe if you would really trust me…”
“I trust you to find my brother.”
She knew if he touched her she would lose this edge she’d developed. She needed that edge to keep her away from that box under the table, the same box that was locked and buried deep in her heart.
“You love your brother and you want the best for him.”
Love. There was that word she was trying to avoid. The single word made her yearn to embrace all the subtle changes in Christien she’d noticed the past few days. Those qualities were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore or dismiss with a pat excuse. There was no denying the tenderness and genuine affection in his gaze when he looked at her, as he was doing now. Nor the way he touched her that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with an understanding she’d been without for too long.
Love. An emotion she’d thought was an illusion—and was rapidly being disabused of that notion. It was everything Chloe had said it would be: wonderful, yet so complicated and scary for all it implied.
She exhaled a shaky breath and refocused on the next box. “Can we drop this, Christien? I really need to go through this stuff.”
He nodded and she was grateful that he didn’t push her. She was on the verge of a total meltdown.
He picked up the spyglass and began to polish. Tally fell into an easy routine of holding up objects for the captain to see and pass judgment on.
It was late morning when Tally called a halt. Christien lead the way from the attic to the second-storey landing. He stopped to brush dust off his jeans. Tally passed him. “I’m going to take a quick—” The word shower turned into a shriek as Tally felt two ice-cold hands propel her forward. The dizzying fall down the stairs rushed up at her.
Two strong, warm arms snapped around her middle and pulled her away from the dangerous fall as she and Christien crashed to the floor, both gasping for breath.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thanks to you. You always seem to be there when I need you.”
As the words tumbled from her mouth, her heart opened a little bit more to let him in. She was losing her battle to stay distant from this man as she let herself sink into his arms.
“WHAT THE DEUCE DO YOU THINK you are doing, crone?” Gabriel said to the old woman at the foot of the stairs.
“Trying to separate them.”
“By hurting Tally or, worse, killing her?”
She turned shadowed eyes on him. “It wasn’t her I was trying to push, you fool! It was the man.”
“You are trying to injure a living being.”
“He’s a threat to her.”
“I will not stand for this, crone. Be warned that I will not let you harm the man.”
She gathered her shawl around herself and gave him a haughty look. “Do not pretend you are noble, Gabriel. It doesn’t become you.” She disappeared.
Gabriel watched as Christien gathered Tally close to him and their auras blended more beautifully and harmoniously than they had been in the café. It was happening and there was nothing the crone could do to stop it. They were falling for each other.
But Gabriel had seen how Tally had acted in the attic toward Christien. She was afraid. And he realized what the crone had wrought when she’d blessed her descendants with ambition. She’d taken from them their courage. The courage to take a risk on what Gabriel had learned too late.
Love.
She’d robbed each and every one of them.
Tally and Christien stood up. Gabriel studied the tender way Christien pushed her hair out of her face and he was struck with a deep dilemma. Convincing Tally to embrace her love for Christien wasn’t going to be enough. She had to want it with her heart and soul. Yes, she was falling for him, but wasn’t yet at a place where she could accept what he had to offer.
That damn curse. In that moment, he knew that he couldn’t do what he’d set out to do. After getting to know Tally, he, quite literally, loved her like a daughter for her generosity in trying to elevate him to a place he’d wanted to be many centuries ago. If he’d had a heart still beating in his chest, it would be aching right now.
Tally was on the verge of the most powerful love of her life and she was too afraid to reach out and take it.
There would never be another man who would even come close.
And for her, for Christien, he mourned.
Gabriel waited downstairs until Tally was alone and Christien had left the house. He appeared to her as she came down the stairs.
“I told you that old woman doesn’t like me very much—she tried to push me down the stairs.”
“She does not like me either,” Gabriel said in commiseration. “But it’s Christien she was trying to hurt. You just got in the way.”
“She doesn’t want me to be with Christien?” Tally’s eyes widened. “She’d better not try that again,” Tally said through gritted teeth. “Leave him alone.”
Gabriel resisted the urge to sway her thinking. Now that they had formed this bond between them, more was at stake than the breaking of the curse. Tally’s heart was engaged, but her head was keeping her back. “What do you want?”
“Mark safe and the treasure found so that I can buy the Blue Note.”
“And where does your man fit into your life?”
“He doesn’t.”
“Then, why fight the crone? Just tell her what she wants to hear.”
“No one tells me what I can and can’t do.”
“Ah, the courage of your ancestors does rest in you.”
“Courage. What is courage, really?”
�
��It’s going into battle against great odds without hope of winning.”
“Why did you do it? You owed New Orleans nothing, especially since they treated you so poorly, before and after.”
“New Orleans is my home and no foreign army was going to take that away from me, not while my heart beat in my body.”
“So exposing yourself to something you would normally avoid is courage?” Tally asked.
“Courage is facing risks, whether it’s facing down the British Army or facing your own doubts.”
“So, courage is having the guts to stand up against what you’re afraid of and realize that it is worth fighting for?”
“Ah, I truly wish that I had spoken to you sooner, young woman. But things happen in their own time.”
Tally nodded. “I’m off to get you a wing of the museum, Gabriel.”
He put his hand to his heart and bowed. “I’m honored by this gift you are giving me, Tally.”
TALLY LEFT HER TOWN HOUSE with the conversation swirling in her head. She was a person with a logical, practical mind. If a thing made sense, had a reason behind it, she could understand it at least. But things that struck from out of the blue defied logic. There was no reason, no explanation she might find some comfort in. That left her with nothing, nothing to cling to, not even hope, because in a world where anything might happen at any time, unpredictability shoved aside and left fear in its place.
That was why the treasure was so important to her. Money was tangible and would give her the security she needed in an insecure world.
It was all she would need.
When she got to the museum, she was ushered into the curator’s office.
Jennifer Sutton was blond and petite. She smiled at Tally. “What can I do for you today, Miss Addison?”
“I would like to speak to you about setting up a wing of this museum for Captain Gabriel Dampier.”
“Captain Dampier was rumored to be part of the rebellion that saved New Orleans. Pity that we don’t have any tangible proof.”