by Chris Lange
Crouching, she summoned her most natural tone. “He’s a vampire.”
“Like Musky, the little vampire?”
“Hey, I forbade you to watch that cartoon. You’re too young.”
“But Grandpa said—”
“I don’t care what he said. You listen to me.”
Johnny pouted, a cute dimple marking his cheek, and she didn’t have the heart to keep on scolding him. Besides, what was the use of ensuring he watched acceptable children’s television programs when a real creature of the night stood ten feet from him, and an immortal threatened his life?
Andrew concealed his mirth behind the back of his hand and Garrett oozed a confusing blend of impatience and frustration. She wouldn’t get any help from those two. As she straightened up, Raphael came up to her. “I can’t leave until dusk, though I think you’re safe ’til then. I’d expect trouble when the sun comes down.”
“How will Khrull find us here?”
“The same way I do. He has quite a few vampires doing his bidding. They’ll simply follow your scent.”
A vicious pack of blood suckers sniffing the wind to track her? Swell. Although no immortal came crashing through the windows, her instincts kicked in and she glanced around for cover.
Her gaze fell on two new black, metallic doors. The one to the right used to be her father’s retreat and place to stay when he worked here for long periods of time. The one on the left must be the additional room he mentioned. Actually, the vast garden house did seem a fraction smaller.
She closed the distance to the left door and punched in Johnny’s birth date followed by the number fifteen. “You’d better stay in here, Raphael. No sun.”
He nodded. She looked inside, taking in the large bed and pillows, the chair pushed against a writing desk, the small closet where guests could store clothes, and behind a half-closed curtain, she saw a toilet next to a shower stall and a sink. Just like in his other labs, her father enjoyed his comfort.
While she sensed Raphael moving toward her, she stepped aside to let him pass. “Will this do?”
“It’s fine. Thank you, Tracy.”
“You’re welcome.”
As her guardian vampire brushed past her to enter the room, Johnny stuck his head between her legs. “Wow, can I stay in here, too?”
“No, honey, you get Grandpa’s room.”
“Okay.”
The boy ran to the bed as soon as she let him inside, gripped the sheets to crawl on top, and started jumping on the mattress. She watched him, surges of love circling her heart and accelerating her respiration.
“One does not exhibit such jubilant behavior.”
Garrett spoke from right behind her. His body blocked her way out, and a shiver tickled the nape of her neck. “He’s three, what do you expect him to do?”
“As my firstborn son and present heir to the Burnes’ empire, he ought to be taught conformity and graciousness.”
Heir to what? A wealthy life filled with duties, obligations, restrictions, and a total absence of freedom. No, thank you very much, her child deserved better. And by the way, why did Garrett insist on referring to Johnny as his heir when he had made it clear that the boy’s presence had to remain secret?
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but you don’t get to raise him. When our business here is over, we’ll say goodbye to each other. Johnny and I go home quietly while you stay here to take care of your big heaps of money.”
“I shan’t accept this preposterous proposition.”
She whirled her head round to find him so close to her that she almost stumbled.
“And what, Garrett? Go on, what’s on your mind? You’re gonna put me up in a grand apartment on the other side of town? Will you visit us every other weekend and during summer breaks?”
Divorce and legal custody mustn’t have been high within his circle because he obviously had no idea what she was going on about. With his intense gaze riveted on her lips, she willed herself to dismiss the rush of desire piercing her. She swallowed, flexed her hands, and focused on her righteous anger. “Is that really what you want?”
Why didn’t he stop staring at her mouth? His mother should have taught him it wasn’t polite to gawk at ladies’ heaving cleavage.
“Mommy?”
She glanced back. Johnny stood on the bed, not bouncing, not playing, simply looking at the both of them with concern. “Are you fighting?”
“No, sweetie, Daddy and I are just talking. Nothing to worry about. Listen, would you stay here for a minute? I’ll be back in no time.”
“Sure.”
As soon as he agreed, she grasped Garrett’s arm to lead him toward the back of the garden houseroom.
Andrew cleared his throat. “I apologize, Tracy. I hate to be the one to break up this charming reunion, but it’s almost nine o’clock. If Garrett and I don’t make a late appearance for breakfast, your cover-up may be compromised.”
Damn, right when she intended to give her lover the last piece of her mind. She released his arm and their hands touched. Lust coursed through her like a tongue of heat out of a flamethrower while Garrett’s abrupt intake of breath caused her to stagger. She leaned on the long, wooden table, heart pounding, spirits floating with the powerful call of a siren song. She didn’t raise her face until her emotion abated.
Opposite her, Andrew stared with open astonishment. “Extraordinary.”
His blatant admiration struck a chord in her belly. Please, God, he didn’t catch on her ravenous hunger for Garrett, did he?
As she searched for a funny comment, Andrew looked at his older brother. “You’re very lucky, Garrett. I wish I had that.”
So the young man did perceive the raw feelings connecting them, the ever-lingering desire bonding them across time and worlds. They couldn’t get rid of it no more than they created it in the first place, but how the hell was she supposed to deal with this impossible burden? Just hope the bond would go away?
At a slow pace, Andrew walked to the entrance, waited for his brother to follow him, and then shut the door behind them.
She joined Johnny in the secure bedroom and fluffed the cushions. Maybe she’d mull over her problematic future later, but for now, she only wanted to be with her son. He asked for a story as soon as her head hit the pillow. Although he hadn’t slept more than three hours tonight, he stayed wide-awake, listening to the tales of Sir Lancelot, the brave knight of the Round Table.
He still wasn’t asleep by the time she ended the story, though his eyelids began to droop. She waited a while longer, weariness also seeping into her bones. What time was it? Eleven, perhaps midday?
Johnny’s breathing finally fell into a deep, regular rhythm. With the adventures he’d experienced, he’d be out for at least ten hours. She closed her eyes, her body snug against his and calling for rest.
Someone knocked on the front door. A second later, the latch clicked and a feminine voice invaded the place.
“Garrett? Are you in here?”
Brutally torn from her doze, pulse fluttering at the vaguely familiar tone, she jumped out of bed and hurried to the main room. A woman already stood at the threshold, her eyes widening as she recognized Tracy.
“You!”
Were all fucking universes allied against her? What did it take to enjoy a little peace and quiet around here? Yet the concept of resting departed her mind as she squared her shoulders for the battle ahead.
Miss Perfect’s astonished exclamation matched the round shape of her mouth while she remained rooted to the spot. Four years hadn’t marred her flawless beauty, her shiny blond hair cascading in exquisite curls below her shoulders, and the blue of her eyes reminiscent of a radiant summer sky.
“Miss Richardson? Why in heavens are you here?”
Funny how pe
ople kept asking her questions when she should be the one getting answers. What did the immortal want from her? Would he set his sights on Johnny? What happened to Raphael during his time with their enemy? Why did Garrett get fucking married to this heartless, stunning bitch?
“You look well, Ashton.”
“It’s Lady Ashton to the likes of you. Haven’t you learnt manners since last you intruded on our domain?”
Shit, shit, and double shit. Keeping her cool would require a willpower she might not possess and this despicable woman was playing on it. Best course of action in such cases, dodge the topic. She tilted her head. “Can I do something for you?”
Distrust abruptly narrowing her blue eyes, Garrett’s wife finally moved to come to stand on the other side of the table. “My husband hasn’t been himself since breakfast. It appears my suspicions were well-founded.”
The man she exchanged vows with cheated on her mere hours ago. Did that count as suspicions? Gee, how would the lady call her gut feeling if she knew about the erotic violence her husband sometimes displayed when brutally aroused and confronted with the true object of his desires?
“There’s no problem here, Ashton. I just came for a short visit.”
“Am I supposed to believe you?”
“Well, duh.”
The woman’s expression turned even sourer. Her curved lips tightened as she put a hand on the table. “What a ridiculous prospect.”
Miss Perfect wasn’t that wrong given the way Garrett forgot her when he drove his cock into someone else, into the woman who lived a world away. Her, Tracy Richardson, mother of his son. Still, the idea of bickering over a man lost its appeal since she became a mom. Unlike people, perspectives changed.
“Look, Ashton, I don’t know what you’ve heard, and I don’t care. I need to be here for personal reasons and believe me, they’re much more important than anything you can imagine. So lay off, would you?”
“Dear me, I should hate to be the one to interfere with your personal reasons. Perhaps I ought to invite you into the manor. We may even share a nice cup of tea with Lady Anne, what say you?”
Fuck, but the woman seemed aware that she was hiding from the dragon queen. The men would never babble out, so how did she know? Feminine intuition? Having Garrett’s mother on her back was the last thing she wanted. It might even ruin the plans they hadn’t yet made to destroy the immortal. Now she had to think hard and fast.
Without a pause, she shrugged. “Thanks, but tea isn’t good for my allergies. Instead of beating around the bush, why don’t you tell me exactly what you want?”
“I never thought to encounter you here. However, since we both stand in the same room, I would offer you a proposition.”
Miss Perfect sounded sincere despite the anger and jealousy swimming in her eyes. Maybe she had devised her own plans.
“All right,” Tracy said. “I’m listening.”
“I shan’t disclose your intrusion in the garden house.”
“I’m not intruding. Garrett invited me.”
“Yes, I’m certain he did. Unfathomable as his interests and motives may be, he’s always had a soft spot for you. However I won’t stand for any more disturbances in this house. You must leave at once.”
The woman deserved consideration, because in spite of her husband’s betrayal, she still acknowledged his feelings for her rival. Who would have the guts to do that? Yet the problem of her and Johnny’s departure remained.
She stifled a sigh. “Chill out, Ashton. I won’t be here longer than a day. That’s all I can say for now.”
“Unacceptable.”
Really? The English beauty would feel different if a whacko immortal chased her through the streets of London to get a piece of her heart.
Impatience made Tracy’s fingers twitch, a sure sign the time for compromise had come and gone. “Listen, missy, I don’t care much for your grand airs, and I think you’d better not test my patience. When I say that I can’t leave until tomorrow, it means I can’t, okay? And if you feel like running to your almighty mother-in-law to cry over your bad luck, go ahead. I don’t give a shit.”
Sudden indecision caused Miss Perfect to strengthen her grip on the strings of the classy pouch she held in her gloved hand. Silence wavered between them until she finally started fiddling with her small bag.
“Miss Richardson, I dare say you’re trespassing on my generosity however, given the circumstances, it seems we’ve reached a stalemate.”
“And?”
“As I said, I shan’t reveal your presence.”
Good thinking. If neither of them suffocated from jealousy in the next minute, they might both end up alive.
“In exchange for?”
Incredibly, the haughty set of the girl’s mouth dwindled and the corners of her lips dropped as she took a deep breath. “Don’t steal him from me.”
Holy fuck, Ashton loved him. Under the tough veneer of her education and contempt for lowborn people, Miss Perfect had actually opened up and given her heart to Garrett. Now her chest was going up and down with the force of her emotion and brilliant tears brimmed in her azure eyes. “I beg of you. I need him by my side.”
Damn. No way in hell this girl was faking her feelings. Damn. Believing she married Garrett for rank and money had somehow eased the betrayal, but witnessing the real depth of the woman’s passion hurt.
Fuck, did it hurt.
How come the closest chair stood so far away from her? Perhaps if she reached out to the left, she might be able to grab one, sit down, and stop this numbness seizing her insides. Instead, she looked at the distressed Barbie doll.
“Do you love him, Ashton?”
“More than my life.”
Dread infiltrated her bones. The horrible pain gripped her stomach, bile rose up her throat, and she cursed the day her father got abducted. Without that event, she wouldn’t have set foot in the stupid telepod and crossed over to this world. Without that event, she’d never, ever, have met Garrett.
No falling in love with the man of her life, no amazing sex that made her want to die every time she reached orgasm, no lunatic, immortal, or vampire gangs trying to kill her, no trampling on this girl’s feelings, and no betrayal of any kind.
But unfortunately, no Johnny. Picturing the features of her son, Tracy spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
Miss Perfect’s tears fell freely now that she got the burden off her chest. She sniveled while fishing a white handkerchief out of her pouch. “Goodness gracious, I must look a fright.”
Although wet, the face she presented looked beautiful. Yet she brought the fresh piece of cloth up to her face and dabbed her cheeks, mindful to avoid staining her gloves or the wonderful pink dress she wore. “I came down here to find Garrett regarding the broken chandelier, and I’ve made a fool of myself.”
Yeah, who in this manor wasn’t after him? Come to think of it, maybe an elderly servant in the kitchens felt too weary and old to waste her time lusting after the handsome master of the house. Face dry, her rival put the handkerchief back into the pouch with grace and then observed Tracy with a new look, akin to mutual understanding.
“I wish to bear his children,” Ashton said. “Each night I pray God to give me a son my husband shall be proud to love and raise.”
The gut stabbing got worse by the minute. At this rate, Miss Perfect would achieve something time, enemies, different universes, and even her stubborn father failed to accomplish. One more word, and she’d let go of Garrett.
“I beseech you, Miss Richardson. Will you step down?”
The question hung between them, fragile and powerful, simple, yet devastating enough to leave her broken, possibly shattered. Did she have the right to break up a married couple? To prevent them from having children and becoming a family, t
o tear apart a wife from her husband because she’d seen him first?
A feeling of nausea took root in the pit of her belly, climbed up her ribcage, and soared all the way to her throat. She had to answer, yet she choked on the decision that would topple her life. Her British rival wasn’t such a bitch after all, just a woman deeply in love with the man she married.
Fingers clenched around the strings of her pouch, lips quivering, Lady Ashton murmured one more time.
“Will you?”
Oh, God. Fear for her life never amounted to the effort that was required of her at this second. Heart compressed, mind vanquished, she stared at the brilliant blue eyes filled with desperate hope and uttered a single word.
Chapter 11
“Yes.”
Did she really say that word? It seemed so. A promise had just been made, and the deed was done.
Miss Perfect’s chest depleted while she expelled a long gust of air out of her lungs. How long had the woman been holding her breath?
“Thank you, Miss Richardson, I shan’t ever forget this.”
“Sure, whatever. I guess you can call me Tracy now.”
Ashton’s weak grin deepened while she smoothed the lapels of her dress and fluffed the length of her blond curls. “I’m not necessarily used to such familiarity, but I shall do my best. I’ll leave you at present and try to find Garrett.”
The way she pronounced his name knotted her stomach. Swallowing the lump of bitterness, she watched Ashton exit the room, her graceful walk enhancing the glamorous harmony of her gown.
When the lock clicked into place, Tracy looked around the garden house with its old-fashioned yet welcoming decor. What should she do now that she’d willingly written off the love of her life?
She’d fed Garrett bullshit ever since she opened the door of the hotel room tonight to find him staring at her. She wanted him, always had. All her big talk of him not raising their son ricocheted in her mind while she closed her eyes for a second. Hell, she’d give anything for him to take care of Johnny.