‘Tell me!’ I push up, off the bed and sway against the dizziness.
Kael immediately steps forward and catches my body against his.
‘You’re still weak,’ he says, ‘you should stay in bed…’
‘I’m fine! I just -’ my voice fades as Kael lifts one hand and brushes the hair back from my forehead. I lift my eyes from his chest to his face. When our eyes meet, I know I’ve made a mistake. My head swims and I catch my breath. I’m suddenly hyper aware of the energy crackling almost audibly between us.
Time ceases to exist; Kael’s eyes turn almost black and his gaze dips to my lips. With excruciating slowness, his head lowers toward mine until there is barely an inch of space between my lips and his. I can feel his breath, warm and rapid, against my face and I breathe in the delicious minty musk of him.
My lips part and my breathing becomes labored. Every nerve inside me tingles, my heart pounds in my chest, and I wait for him to bridge the distance between us, but he doesn’t. He just hovers there, letting a range of emotion wash through his eyes, drawing me tight with anticipation.
When I think he’s reached a conclusion and that he’s going to pull away, I step forward and brush my lips against his. He freezes, eyes open watching me and I shiver, lean forward and press my lips against his again, increasing the pressure.
With a pained exhale, Kael’s eyes close and he tightens his arms around me. His lips respond to the pressure of mine and he deepens the kiss, turning it from a feather caress to a searing flame. My hands tangle in the hair at his nape and I press against him, trying to get closer. Electricity sparks at every point where our bodies touch. My temperature soars; I part my lips against his, tasting, dissolving, wanting more.
Then suddenly, he wrenches his lips from mine and pulls away. I stumble at the sudden loss of support but he catches me by the arms and deposits me back on the side of the bed. He steps back, draws in a ragged breath and shoves both hands through his short hair.
His eyes take in my lips, red and swollen from our kiss; my hair, tangled from his fingers. He swears softly and disappears out of the doorway.
Chapter 45
Torn
Tastes like: Lemon merange pie vs bar-one cake.
Smells like: Spicy cologne vs. minty musk.
Sounds like: Piano vs harp.
Feels like: Two people, pulling each of your arms in opposite directions.
Looks like: The ragged edged of a torn silk sheet.
By the time daylight dawns, I’m a wreck. Despite the exhaustion, I’ve barely slept and my head is still throbbing.
After what happened with Kael last night, he’d switched places with Kent and I haven’t seen him since. Kent clearly knows something happened between me and his brother last night, but he’s wisely kept his mouth shut. He just sat in the window seat while I tossed and turned on the bed.
I’m more confused than ever now. Is it normal to feel this way about my seastnan? Something tells me it isn’t. I should think of him as a brother, but there’s nothing sibling-like about the way I felt in his arms or the way his lips burned against mine. I suppress a shiver of forbidden delight at the mere memory of last night’s kiss.
When I hear a knock on the door, I groan and pull the pillow over my head. After a moment, the door clicks open.
‘Are you alright, Bluebell?’ Nan asks.
‘No,’ I grumble.
She leans over me and gently pulls the pillow away from my face.
‘You look awful!’ she says.
‘Gee, thanks, Nan.’
‘Should I reschedule with Tristan, dear?’
‘Were we supposed to be doing something today?’
‘Yes, he wanted to show you the Lydney estate.’
‘Oh,’ I say softly, remembering the conversation Tristan and I had in the meadow at Abbey manor. The Lydney estate is supposed to be our home, after the wedding. A wave of guilt washes over me at the thought of Tristan. What would he say if he knew that I’d kissed Kael?
‘No, it’s fine, Nan,’ I say, wearily, ‘I’ll be fine after I eat something.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asks, searching my face.
‘Yes, I…I want to see the house.’
Nan smiles tiredly and I feel like an ass. I’ve been so busy thinking about myself that I haven’t even asked about last night’s fire-fighting expedition.
‘What happened about the fire?’ I ask.
Nan frowns and looks toward the window-seat, where Kent is curled up awkwardly against the window, fast asleep.
‘We lost a few acres but we managed to put it out, so there’s nothing to worry about.’ She frowns and I know she’s downplaying it for my benefit. Any loss of the forest is something to worry about. Lost forest equals lost power for us. ‘Kael will pick you up in about an hour.’
Nan walks toward the door and I watch her leave, wondering just how much forest was lost. How much will this fire affect us? What’s causing them and is it just coincidence or are they linked somehow to my attacks? The door clicks shut behind her and I pull the pillow back over my face.
Kael does not arrive as Nan had predicted. It is Jake who collects me from the driveway, claiming that my seastnan has ‘come down with the flu or something’. Or something. At least I’m not the only one affected by our kiss. I still haven’t sorted everything out in my head, so I’m kind of glad I don’t have to face Kael yet.
The drive to the Lydney estate is pleasant. Jake has such a relaxed way about him, and his sense of humor reminds me so much of my dad, that the drive passes by in a flash and before I look outside again, we’re at the gates of Tristan’s estate.
Perched on the banks of the Severn River, the two stories high mansion, overlooks immaculate green lawns, rolling toward high front gates and surrounding meadows that bear a striking resemblance to those of Abbey manor. An imposing water nymph fountain, in the middle of the circular drive, trickles water into a large pond that teems with fat, golden Koi.
When the car rolls to a stop at the bottom of a sweeping marble staircase, the heavy doors atop swing open and Tristan comes down the stairs.
He eyes my breezy, sheer blouse, the one I bought at the festival, layered over a black cami and knee-length skirt with obvious appreciation. I blush, feeling naked beneath his gaze. I’d chosen this decidedly feminine outfit for the benefit of Tristan’s parents really. I remember how under-dressed I’d felt at Abbey manor and I don’t want a repeat of that.
‘Wow,’ Tristan says, ‘you look…wow’
‘Thanks,’ I reply, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.
Jake winds down his window, greets Tristan, and turns to me.
‘I’ll be back around three to pick you up.’
Tristan notices the surprised look I shoot at Jake and explains:
‘Don’t worry, we’ve cleared it with your grandmother; mother’s seastnan will take care of you today.’
I nod, although I don’t see this mysterious seastnan in sight. He must be around here somewhere, watching from the shadows, otherwise Kael would never have agreed to this…then again…My stomach gives a nervous flutter and I push away the memories of last night as Tristan leads me up the marble steps.
‘Where do you want to start the tour?’ he asks, grinning like a little boy.
‘Um, shouldn’t we say hello to your parents first?’ I ask but he shakes his head.
‘They’re not here. It’s just you and me today, princess.’
‘Oh…’ I say, in a small voice. The thought of being alone with Tristan in this big house, especially after last night…
‘Who’s that?’ I say, gesturing toward a man who is standing beside the front door, posture stiff and arm held in a demure position across his middle.
‘That’s Hurley, our butler.’
The man bows formally to me and I stammer.
‘B-butler? What, like a servant?’
Tristan laughs but Hurley’s face remains expressionless. I feel like I’ve just stepped into a Richie-Rich co
mic. At home, in South Africa, having a domestic helper is commonplace amongst most middle to upper-class families, including my own, - but a butler?
‘You didn’t expect to run an entire estate on your own, did you?’ Tristan says. ‘I’ll introduce you to the rest of the staff later.’
‘Rest of…’
Tristan laughs again and pulls me by the hand through the open doorway. I shoot Hurley an embarrassed look as we sweep past.
‘Nice to meet you, Hurley.’
He bows slightly from the waist in acknowledgement and I look away. It just doesn’t feel right.
Once inside, I take an awed breath and survey the foyer. A sweeping grey-white, marble staircase frames the edges of the marble-tiled entranceway. A huge chandelier, dripping with strands of crystals, hangs suspended from the double-volume ceiling.
‘Let’s start inside,’ Tristan says.
He leads me through the entrance hall that spans the entire width of the house, down a passage, into a lavish, Victorian lounge. Glass doors are folded back to reveal a balcony terrace, with breathtaking views of the sweeping estate and a wide staircase that leads down to beautifully landscaped gardens.
His voice is animated as he points out the art-work on the walls, none of which I recognize, the state of the art technical equipment and specially chosen furniture pieces. I ooh and aah at just the right times as he leads me from one room to the next but secretly, all I can think is: who could possibly need this much space? I can’t imagine living here, using the pieces of furniture Tristan’s mother has so obviously picked out. There is nothing homey about this house; it’s too perfect, too formal.
And then we reach the last room at the end of the west-wing corridor.
Tristan gives me a mischievous smile, throws open the double doors and ushers me inside. I brush past him into the room and gasp. Along one entire wall are floor to ceiling length mirrors, the floor is hardwood and there is a bar along the mirrored wall.
‘Your studio,’ Tristan says. I whirl to face him in disbelief and he reaches for my hand. ‘Shaylee, I know you’re afraid of not being able to live your own life and make your own decisions, but you need to understand that I’ll support you all the way. I want to make you happy. I won’t stand in the way of your dreams.’
I stand silently, gaping at him and at the room. He squeezes my hand lightly.
‘Marrying me is not about taking away your freedom; it’s about you and me, being partners in life and helping each other to achieve our dreams.’
‘I – I… don’t know what to say,’ I whisper.
‘You don’t need to say anything,’ he replies and steps forward, pulling me into his arms.
I freeze, the memory of Kael, last night, with the same look in his eyes, flashing before me. Tristan leans toward me; I panic, pull away and move toward the door.
‘Come on,’ I say, forcing myself to sound excited. ‘I’m dying to see the stables!’
Tristan’s eyes flash disappointment but he follows me back down the corridor and out onto the terrace.
‘Hang on, princess,’ he says. ‘Lunch is ready, let’s eat first.’
I nod, surprised at how quickly the morning is disappearing. My belly is churning too much for me to be hungry, but I let Tristan seat me at the table on the terrace, which has been laid out with a light feast of smoked chicken, strawberries, salad and French bread. We talk about movies, dancing and music while I push my food around my plate.
After lunch, Tristan takes my hand and we walk in silence down the steps to the rose-lined pathway that winds through the gardens, toward the outbuildings.
‘You okay?’ Tristan asks.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘You didn’t eat much at lunch and you’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.’
I glance at him and then quickly away. ‘I just have a headache.’
‘A headache?’ he asks in a sharp voice, ‘Like the one you had at Abbey manor?’
‘No, nothing like that. I’m fine, really,’ I assure him but he persists.
‘Did you have another episode, Shaylee?’
I shrug, trying to dispel his concern.
‘Yes, during last night’s festival but I’m fine now.’
Tristan falls silent as we continue toward the stable, but when I glance at his face, his brows are furrowed together in a frown.
We stop at a white fence and I rub my hand gently along the nose of a grey mare that has come to the side, sniffing at my pockets in the hopes of finding a treat.
‘I think we should move the wedding up,’ Tristan says suddenly.
My eyes fly to his and my hand freezes on the mare’s nose.
‘What? Why?’ I stutter. The mare nuzzles my hand impatiently.
‘Obviously these attacks have got something to do with the marking, or with your aura. Maybe they will stop once we’re married.’
I shake my head, feeling panic well up inside me.
‘We don’t even know what causes them.’
‘But it might stop them.’
‘Or it might not.’
Tristan grabs my hand and twists me around to face him.
‘What is it you’re not telling me, Shaylee?’ he demands. ‘Why are you so afraid of committing? Haven’t I proven to you that I’ll support you? What’s holding you back still?’
‘I just need time -’
‘Time for what?’ he demands, ‘You like me, right?’
‘Yes -’
‘You enjoy my company?’
‘Yes -’
‘You’re attracted to me?’
I hesitate and Tristan puts one hand under my chin.
‘We both know you are, Shaylee.’
He leans forward, and before I can react, presses his lips against mine. At first, I’m too unprepared to react, but then I feel the warmth creep into my skin as his arms slide around me. The kiss is…pleasant, like a drug, seeping through my lips and into my blood, making me warm and lazy. Tristan’s kiss feels safe and gentle; nothing like Kael’s kiss, which was hot and electrical.
I groan, not from pleasure, but out of frustration at the thoughts running through my head. Tristan hears me, and interpreting the sound as passion, deepens the kiss, tilting my head back into his palm. I try to remain still, to let him kiss me, but the rightness I’d felt last night kissing Kael, is conspicuously absent and a voice in my head screams: This is wrong. It feels wrong!
I push my palms against Tristan’s chest, breathing hard.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this,’ I say and flee up the pathway toward the house.
Chapter 46
Love
Tastes like: Truffles
Smells like: Roses
Sounds like: Wind-chimes
Feels like: Silky-satin
Looks like: Two people, eyes locked across a crowded room.
‘Shaylee, what’s wrong?’ Kael’s voice on the phone is sharp. I bite my lip and almost regret calling him, but I can’t stay here; I can’t face Tristan right now.
‘Um, can you come get me, please?’ My voice echoes back to me like I’m on speakerphone. ‘Are you driving?’
‘Yes,’ he replies, ‘I’m almost there. What happened?’
I worry my lip again and start walking down the driveway, scuffing my sandals against the pebbles.
‘I – I can’t. Just come, please?’
‘Shaylee?’ Tristan’s voice sounds from behind me and I spin around, my heart picking up speed.
‘What -’
‘I can’t talk now,’ I whisper and quickly disconnect the call.
Tristan breathes a sigh of relief and reaches out to put one hand on my shoulder but I take a step back from him. He frowns and notices the cell phone in my hand.
‘Was that Kael?’ he asks.
I drop my gaze to the white pebbles at his feet and nod.
‘He’s on his way to pick me up.’
There is a short silence and I glance up, regretting the action instantly when I s
ee the hurt splashed across his face.
‘I thought we were having a good time?’ he says softly.
I sigh and look away, unable to meet his gaze.
‘We were, but…’
‘Is it because I kissed you?’
With relief, I register the soft rattle of the gate sliding open at the end of the drive.
‘I can’t do this now, Tristan,’ I say.
Kael’s truck comes into view, tires crunching as he speeds down the driveway. Tristan catches my arm and spins me back around just as the truck skids to a halt next to us.
‘Talk to me, Shaylee,’ Tristan says. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘What’s going on?’ Kael’s voice cuts the air, hard and icy and we both turn as he slams the door and strides toward us.
‘Stay out of this, Kael,’ Tristan warns.
‘What the hell did you do to her?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ Tristan shoots back.
‘Stop it!’ I say, stepping between the two boys.
Would it always be like this? Kael on one side; Tristan on the other; and me in the middle, trying to keep them apart and myself together at the same time?
‘Kael, can you just take me home, please?’
‘Shaylee -’ Tristan says with a pleading note in his voice but I look away.
‘We’ll talk later, okay? Please Tristan…’
Kael throws another threatening look in Tristan’s direction, tucks my arm under his and leads me toward the car. He helps me into the passenger seat before he climbs into the driver’s seat.
As he steers the truck back down the drive, I can’t help but chance a quick glance in the rearview mirror. Tristan just stands there, watching us with a forlorn expression, his reflection slowly diminishing in size.
‘So are you going to tell me what happened?’ Kael asks, after we’ve cleared the gate of Tristan’s estate.
I put both hands over my face and shake my head.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘It’s my job.’
I just shake my head again.
‘Did he hurt you?’ Kael asks, his voice hard.
Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) Page 24