by Marie Morin
* * * *
She felt deliciously wicked. The castle was likely to be in an uproar if they discovered her gone—again. She would be in trouble, but she didn't care. She knew her father wasn't going to send her to a convent, whatever he might threaten. She was far too valuable as a pawn. He'd been searching for the ‘perfect’ husband for her for years, probably since her birth.
Well, not since her birth. He'd been furious with her mother for producing a female when he'd needed an heir. She thought, perhaps, after her brother though, he'd turned his mind to considering how he might profit from her.
But she was fifteen, and he still hadn't settled on a ‘perfect’ husband. If he didn't make up his mind quickly, she would be too long in the tooth to tempt even the old buzzards he kept parading through his castle.
Fortunately for her, those so far had either not had as much wealth and power as her father had hoped, or they had, but they had considered that her father wasn't significant enough to form an alliance with.
Sooner or later—probably soon, he would have to settle her, but for now she was still free to do as she pleased. And it pleased her to adventure whenever the opportunity presented itself.
The dread Duc du Maurier was in residence and she meant to get a look at him.
She'd heard tales of him her entire life. Many said he was a spawn of the devil, complete with horns and hooves. Some whispered that he'd sold his soul to the devil, for he'd been wounded in battle many times and never been killed ... and he never aged.
No one knew where he'd sprung from—unless it was hell. He had simply arrived and then proceeded to carve a duchy for himself.
It was too bad she couldn't think of a way inside the castle. She could've gotten a far better look at him, but as bold as she was, she wasn't that reckless.
He hunted these woods, more often than not, completely alone.
That part was critical, for he'd be wearing armor most likely and if he were accompanied by a large party, it would be harder, she thought, to pick him out.
Of course, it was said that he was a giant, but she didn't believe that nonsense.
Hearing the sound of hoof beats, she felt a tremor of excitement go through. He was coming. She knew it must be him. With any luck at all, he would pass close by her hiding place and she would get a really good look at him.
She peered through the branches of the tree she'd climbed as the sound grew louder and loude,r and glimpsed a great, black destrier, a knight in full armor. It was the Duc's colors. She inched a little further along the branch as he drew nearer. Her eyes widened as she realized the man on the horse was enormous.
He was wearing his helm, but the visor was pushed back.
She was disappointed, although she'd expected as much, for how was she to see his hooves?
If she was just a little closer she could see his face, though.
The limb let out an ominous snapping noise as she inched forward. At the sound, the demon knight's head whipped around. She had a moment of clarity, when she stared directly into his beautiful blue-green eyes, and then the ground spun upward to meet her.
She landed so hard an unladylike grunt was forced from her, along with the air in her lungs. The next thing she knew, she was looking up into the face of the most beautiful being she'd ever seen in her life. He couldn't be a demon. He must be an angel.
Chapter Nineteen
Cassie groaned and sat up. The clock on the wall caught her eye and she stared at it blankly for several moments—4:00 AM?
Her head was pounding so hard it felt as if it might explode. She leaned forward, dropping her head in her hands, waiting for the pounding to subside. It did after a few minutes, but only a little.
Little by little the dream faded and her memory of before returned. She discovered the scroll was still in her lap. She wasn't certain she wanted to touch it again. Finally, tentatively, she touched it. When nothing happened, she grasped it more firmly, rolled it and tied it up once more.
Collecting the other scrolls, she placed them on the shelf, then, almost as an after thought, piled the damaged ones on the bottom and stacked the others over it. She didn't look at them.
She decided she'd had quite enough excitement for one night. She wasn't going to look for a safe that might or might not be there. She wasn't going to take a chance on something else happening.
Moving around the room, she checked to make sure she hadn't missed anything she'd dropped, straightened everything as best she could, and left Thor's study, turning off the light.
When she'd showered and climbed into the huge bed alone, she found she couldn't sleep. She'd grown so accustomed to lying next to Thor's sprawling form, cuddling up to his heat, warmed by his strength.
She couldn't put what had just happened down to a dream. She wanted to, badly, but it hadn't seemed like a dream. She felt like she'd seen something that had happened long ago.
She'd never believed in psychic phenomenon. She'd never believed anyone had the ability to see the past, the future, to see ghosts. If it wasn't something like that, though, why did she keep ‘dreaming’ about the same woman?
She knew it was the same woman. She'd never seen the woman's face, because in the ‘dream’ she was the woman ... and Thor was always the man.
Weariness, both physical and emotional, finally overtook her.
It was late when she woke, almost noon.
When she'd bathed and dressed and eaten, she merely sat in the great room, staring at the clock until it was time to leave to pick Thor up at the airport.
He was the last to come through the gate, but he towered head and shoulders over most of the other passengers. She caught sight of his long, flowing blond hair long before she got a glimpse of his face. Joy flooded her. It was as if she hadn't seen him in years.
Or, as if she'd felt she had lost him forever.
She didn't try to analyze it. The moment he held out his arms to her, she launched herself at him, hugging him tightly.
He chuckled. “Miss me?"
“Something awful!"
He set her away and bent down to kiss her briefly. “I missed you, too."
She looped her arm through his, and as they made their way to the car, it occurred to her that Thor was the man she loved—not the name—the man.
“A rose is a rose...” she murmured, more to herself than him.
“What?"
She shook her head. “Nothing. How did it go?"
“Boring. They slept through most of it. I almost fell asleep myself."
She chuckled.
“So ... what did you do with yourself while I was gone,” he murmured, leaning across the console to kiss her thoroughly before he straightened and shoved the key into the ignition.
A prickling of guilt and dread scratched its way across her spine. She smiled with an effort. “Worked."
He sent her a questioning look. “You need your own car."
“You're not going to start complaining about having to take me everywhere already when you've only been chauffeuring me for a couple of months?” she asked, half teasing.
He sent her a smiling glance. “I'm not complaining. If I had my way, I wouldn't let you out of my sight for a moment, but I know you need your space. You need freedom to come and go. You can't do that on foot."
“I walked pretty much everywhere before."
“But I don't want you walking, especially after dark. It's dangerous ... even in a small city."
She shrugged. The truth was it was inconvenient for both of them. Their schedules overlapped. “I'll start looking for something in the papers."
He didn't comment, but when they arrived at the house, he pulled up the front drive. “Wait here. I need to get something and then we'll take a ride."
She shrugged, content to remain where she was.
Until it occurred to her that he'd said he needed to get something.
She broke a fingernail getting out of the car. When she arrived breathlessly in the foyer, Thor was j
ust coming out of his office, the cash box in his hand. She felt the blood leave her face. “I need to get a drink of water,” she gasped, whirling and heading for the kitchen as he looked up at her.
She dashed to the sink, splashing water over her face. When the shock of fear receded slightly, she moved to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Thor was leaning against the door frame when she shut the refrigerator door and a jolt went through her.
“Sorry I startled you. Ready?"
She nodded weakly then choked on her first sip of water. She was still coughing when she got to the car again, but at least she was red faced for a reason.
He glanced at her worriedly a couple of times as they turned out of the drive. “Are you all right?"
She nodded. “Just poured it down the wrong pipe,” she said hoarsely.
She was surprised when he turned into a car dealership.
Parking the car, he came around and helped her out. She looked up at him blankly. “We're going to get a car here?"
“If we find one you like."
She frowned. “You can usually get a better deal if you buy from an individual. I figured I'd check the papers."
A salesman came up as she finished speaking. He jaunty smile faded a little. “We've got some good used cars."
“We're not interested in the used cars,” Thor said coolly. “I'll let you know when we find what we want."
Grasping Cassie's hand, he strolled off toward the row of cars, looking them over critically. “What color do you like?"
Cassie was so overwhelmed she couldn't find her voice. “You're going to buy me a new car?"
He glanced at her curiously. “I want to be sure it's something reliable. I don't want you to break down."
The stickers on the cars gave her palpitations. “Why don't you just pick the car out? I'll be happy just to have a way to go."
She was tired of looking long before Thor settled on one. The prospect of sitting through another hour or so of haggling, paper signing and so forth, was daunting. She'd slept late, but she'd been up half the night, and she hadn't slept that well either.
“Maybe we should just think it over for a couple of days?"
Thor lifted his brows. “Would you rather order one?"
“Order?"
“We could order one for you, if you'd rather. Then you could pick out the color and whatever options you want."
She hadn't even known you could do that. “No. The one you picked is beautiful."
“Now,” the salesman said, practically rubbing his hands together in glee, “we just need to fill out a little paperwork here and see if we can get you qualified for a loan...."
“Cash."
The salesman blinked at Thor for five minutes, as if he'd never heard the word. “Cash?"
Thor nodded.
“I suppose we could take a cashier's check, but I'll have to ask the manager...."
“Cash,” Thor repeated, slowly this time. “The green things that have numbers on them."
The salesman reddened. “Alrighty then.” He drew up the papers and quoted the final tally. Thor didn't so much as blink, merely nodding. Cassie almost swallowed her tongue.
“I'll be right back."
Cassie nodded as he got up and left.
“Kids?"
Cassie blinked at the man. “I beg your pardon?"
“You two been married long?"
“Oh! No. Just a couple of months."
He nodded but didn't try to draw her into further conversation. Thor returned and totally blew his mind. Setting the cash box on the front of the desk, he withdrew a fistful of greenbacks that would've choked a horse, counted out twenty five thousand dollars and put the rest up, closing the box again.
“I'll just take this to the cashier if you'll wait here."
Thor nodded.
Cassie glanced at Thor nervously. “He's gone to have the bills analyzed to see if they're counterfeit."
Thor smiled at her. “I know,” he said calmly. “They'll pass."
Chapter Twenty
“That wasn't funny,” Cassie snapped as they got into the SUV again. They'd left the car Thor had just bought to be detailed.
He sent her a look. “It didn't occur to me that you'd think I meant they were fake."
She dragged in a calming breath and slumped in the seat. She still felt weak with fear. She knew the salesman had taken one look at her face and decided there must be something wrong somewhere.
They probably weren't even detailing the car, whatever that was supposed to be. They probably just wanted to hold it several days while they had the FBI check to see if Thor had robbed an armored car or something.
They were at the house once more before it occurred to her that Thor had just dropped thousands of dollars to buy her a brand new car and she hadn't even so much as said ‘thank you'. When they reached the foyer, she moved into his arms. “I'm sorry. It just scared me, and I was so surprised and overwhelmed. Thank you! It's a beautiful car."
His arms tightened around her briefly, then he hooked his hands beneath her arms and lifted her straight up. Instinctively, she grasped his shoulders, then locked her legs around his waist. He slipped one arm beneath her buttocks and the other around her shoulders. “I'd be happy to show you just how welcome you are if you're interested."
Chuckling, she dipped her head and nuzzled his neck. “Only if you'll let me show you how thankful I am."
They didn't make it up the stairs. Cassie had carpet burn on her ass and a bruised back from the stairs and Thor had carpet burn on his knees, but it was a supremely gratifying experience for both of them nevertheless.
The two weeks that followed Thor's return from his trip were uncomfortable ones. Every time Thor went into his office, Cassie fully expected him to come out, roaring mad and foaming at the mouth.
Not that she'd ever seen him lose his temper, or even come close, but she had taken his office apart. There were bound to be unpleasant repercussions when he figured it out.
She was almost certain he would. He wasn't obsessive, but he was meticulous and he was bound to notice everything was in disorder if he looked through his files.
She was too anxious about being discovered, at first, to devote a lot of time to trying to figure out what she'd found and what it might mean, but partly she knew that she had willfully thrust it from her mind because she was afraid to know. She was fearful that knowing would take Thor away from her in some way, and she didn't want to face it.
She could make little sense of it in any case. If he was involved in something illegal, it would've made more sense for the documents to be current, a dozen or so alternate identities ready for use. If he was an artifact forger, it would've made more sense to forge more valuable documents.
Maybe he kept the cash because he didn't trust banks? Or, maybe, he just liked having plenty handy?
He'd taken twenty five thousand out of the box and it had hardly made a dent in it. The box must have a couple of hundred thousand dollars. Why would he keep so much, even assuming it was ‘just to have it handy'? What might come up that would require that much money?
It occurred to her after a while that maybe he'd been gathering it together for the dig. It still didn't sit right, but it was certainly a possibility.
The ‘episodes’ she'd had bothered her a great deal, as well. She couldn't convince herself that they had merely been dreams anymore than she could convince herself that she'd had some sort of psychic experience.
Why would she have them now, when she'd never had anything like it before?
Was it the objects themselves? Was it possible that Thor knew? Was that why he'd removed them?
She had so many disturbing questions floating around in her mind, but she was happier than she'd ever been in her life and she couldn't bring herself to say anything that might rupture her bliss.
She found she couldn't leave it alone, however. As soon as her fear of discovery subsided, she was back to trying to figure out h
ow she could find out about Thor's wife. She felt somehow that it was crucial to her happiness. She had to know, for her own peace of mind, that Thor loved her. She had to know if he'd only married her because she reminded him of the wife he'd lost.
She'd been walking under the attic access for months without paying it the least attention before it occurred to her that that was the one place she hadn't looked. She felt like a fool. Even in the cramped little house she'd lived in with her foster family, they'd used the attic for storing things. Thor's house had an enormous, high pitched roof. There was probably enough room under it to put another whole floor!
Thor hadn't forbidden her the attic. He hadn't mentioned it at all. He'd only asked her to stay out of his office—which, of course, she hadn't done—but that was beside the point. She could safely check out the attic without having to worry that he'd be angry if he found out.
For some reason, though, she wasn't comfortable with the idea of allowing him to know she was snooping in the attic, possibly, she reflected, because her goal was to unearth his past life with his previous wife.
She decided to wait until an opportune time, either when she was alone in the house, or Thor would be occupied somewhere else long enough for her to slip up to check it out.
The opportune time came the weekend Thor began the task of inventorying the equipment for the dig. When she'd taken refreshments out to the garage for him and the students that had come to assist, she returned to the house and watched them for a few minutes from an upstairs window to make sure that Thor was too preoccupied to notice her absence and then made her way to the attic access stairs.
She couldn't reach the pull and had to find the broom and then a chair to catch the ring and pull them down. She hesitated once she'd let the stairs down, wondering if she should go check again but finally decided it would be better to make haste than caution.
She saw when she flicked the light switch and peered into the attic that she'd hit pay dirt. It was full to overflowing with all sorts of boxes, trunks, suitcases and even some old pieces of furniture. She smiled faintly. Thor was such a pack rat!