by Tina Gayle
His stride a little wider, Stihl closed his hand around her arm and led her to the theater’s entrance. It’s a good thing it’s cold out here.
* * * *
The lobby of the Opera Hall was packed with a crowd of people covered in silk, satin, and cashmere. Diamonds, emeralds, and pearls graced the ladies fingers, necks, and hair.
Marohka wasn’t impressed. She’d observed this side of the wealthy before. On loan or out on consignment, most of the jewelry didn’t belong to the wearer. Few people could afford the real thing.
She worked her way across the room, making slow progress. The people, standing and talking in the lobby, filled the area with a low hum. Glancing around, she caught sight of Stihl by the wine counter. He’d said to meet her by the windows after she finished in the lily. He must have gotten delayed by the dark-haired man standing next to him. The stranger looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t place his identity.
As she shuffled her feet in his direction, she noticed every person she passed held a wineglass in his or her hand. With a step to the left, she avoided a collision with one man, but brushed against another. She turned and smiled. The man’s lecherous gaze shocked her.
“I’m sorry.” The words died on her lips.
The man’s glare raked over her like a hungry beast. Unable to move because of the crowd, he caught her by the arm and pressed his hips against hers. “No problem, sweetie, you can bump into me anytime.”
“I don’t think . . .” Marohka ready to drive her knee home into the ball brothers, paused when a tug on her other arm diverted her attention. She turned to see Stihl glared at the other man.
“I suggest you let the lady go.”
“Hey, I saw her first,” the man argued, leaning down to give her a sloppy kiss, one she managed to take on the cheek.
Stihl yanked on her arm, jerking her away from the stranger. “No. You release her, or I’ll pulverize your body to match your brain.” His stern tone demanded compliance.
The two men eyed each other like rabid dogs. Then suddenly, admitting defeat, the stranger released her and slurred his reply. “With a woman like her, you better watch her more closely. Otherwise, someone might steal her away.”
“I . . .”
Stihl jerked on her arm and set off through the crowd. She followed in his wake, staying with him until they stopped on the other side of the room. He stepped behind a tall planter and hid them from the crowd. His hand drew her to a halt and whipped her around. “Marohka, what were you thinking?”
Confused by the whole exchange, she knotted her hands into fists as her temper flared. “What do you mean? I simply bumped into the man. He’s the one who grabbed me.”
“Are you blind? Couldn’t you see he was drunk?” Stihl’s fingers dug into her arm.
“I didn’t see him at all. I just told you I bumped into him.” She swung at him and hit his shoulder. “Now, let me go, you’re hurting me.”
Stihl released her arm and crowded her against the planter. His arms on either side of her pinned her in place. “Stay away from him.” His dark eyes narrowed.
“Gladly,” she spat back with equal venom and shoved him away. “Now, back off.”
His nostrils flared. The sharp scent of battle perfumed the air. If he refused to comply, she wondered how she’d force the issue. He finally shifted away, and she released the breath she’d been holding.
Still stiff with anger, he warned her to tread softly. “I don’t share, Marohka.”
Unwilling to follow his advice, she resented his predatory attitude. She could take care of herself. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Then as quickly as his anger ignited, it died. With a change of moods, he laughed and tugged her to his chest. “I guess I can’t blame you for the man being a jerk.”
“You were trying to,” Marohka pointed out and wormed her way out of his embrace. He might be able to forget the whole incident, but she didn’t forgive that easily.
She walked out from behind the planter and glanced around.
“I don’t like other men touching you,” he whispered under his breath from behind her back.
Marohka ignored the comment and focused on Lord Kaleva and Lady Lisha weaving toward them.
“We thought we would bring both of you a drink.” Lord Kaleva handed them each a glass.
Not caring much for wine, Marohka took the glass more because she wanted something to do with her hands than because she was thirsty.
“Now a toast?” Lady Lisha raised her drink.
“How about to the happy couple?” Lord Kaleva toasted them. “Here’s to many happy years ahead.”
Unable to avoid taking a drink, Marohka raised her glass. The wine on the tip of her tongue tasted bitter. She forced down a small sip, just enough to wet her lips.
“Thank you.” Stihl lowered his glass. “And how are the kids?”
Lady Lisha answered. While the others talked, Marohka shifted back behind Stihl and poured some of her wine into the planter. The bell sounded for the start of the show. Startled, she tipped the glass a little more.
“We’re upstairs so we better go. We’ll see you both later at the intermission.” Lord Kaleva led his wife away.
Marohka stepped around Stihl. “I guess we should make our way inside, too.”
He retrieved her glass from her hand and set it on the rim of the planter, then escorted her into the auditorium. “We don’t have the best view. We’re near the back on the lower level.”
He guided her to their seats, which consisted of a double chair with no armrest between them. She sat on the far edge of the cushion. The noise level in the theatre made it difficult to talk, so Marohka glanced around at the crowd. In the lobby, the temperature was set at a comfortable level. The auditorium’s air system sent a cool breeze down over the crowd. Stihl’s body radiated an alluring heat. She wanted to snuggle up next to him, but she ignored the temptation.
The lights dimmed. The crowd quieted. Marohka crossed her legs, attempting to maintain her body heat. Without her coat to keep her warm, she wished she hadn’t let Stihl check it after they entered the theater.
For once, Stihl kept his distance. Not touching her, he sat on his side of the settee. The curtain rose. She peeked over at him before glancing at the stage. He appeared to be interested in the start of the show.
The music swelled to a crescendo. An answering beat pounded at her temples. The stage a blurred. Her gaze couldn’t penetrate the layer of fog. She blinked several times, but her vision remained cloudy.
As the volume increased, the drum inside her head raised its tempo to beat out the competition. The blinding pain forced her hand out. She groped for Stihl. Her hand found his inner thigh. “Stihl . . .”
Unable to bear any more, she struggled to her feet. I have to get out of here.
Rushing past him, she stumbled for the exit. At the door of the lobby, someone caught her by the arm and spun her around. Dizzy, her world tilted. Blinded, she grabbed for the man in front of her and fell into his arms. Stihl caught her against his chest. Her head fell back over his arm.
“Marohka, what’s wrong with you?”
Chapter Six
“Cyd, we have a problem,” Stihl said into his ECD. With Marohka in his arms, he dropped into the hard seat of the IPT car.
“What happened? Marohka skipped out on you again?” Cyd answered with a laugh.
“No.” Stihl shook with fear. “I think she’s been poisoned.”
He stroked her hair where she lay on his lap. “Her tongue has several green spots like Dusty’s. Call Harrigun. Get him over there right away with the antidote.”
“Right, how long until you arrive?”
“We’re on our way. We’ll be there in a few itons,” Stihl grumbled, “if this car would travel a little faster.”
“Harrigun will be here by the time you arrive,” Cyd ended.
A cold sweat dripped down Stihl’s back. He debated whether to take her to a medical facilit
y. He didn’t believe they’d be able to diagnose her problem. When his dog, Dusty, got sick, they figured out what happened after he died. Better prepared this time, Stihl felt confident he could arrange the right kind of help.
A warning? Or did someone miss the mark, and he should be the one out cold?
He scanned Marohka, and a strange emotion bloomed inside him and poured through his cells. He wanted to identify the gut-wrenching pain.
Anger.
Yes, but it didn’t explain the ache around his heart. Outside of beating someone senseless in some barroom brawl or fighting with his father, he rarely experienced this type of deep twisting reaction. And he disliked the feeling.
Why would someone wanted to hurt her?
Stihl knotted his hands.
Protective.
Maybe, a part of what he was feeling was that he should’ve shielded her from any type of attack. The fear which had consumed him when she’d fainted in his arms still rumbled through his nerves like sharp knives. He’d admit blending with Marohka offered a certain level of excitement. And she might prove to be useful for his new adventure, but any deeper feelings like fear or grief were unrealistic.
A means to an end, a useful partner, a possession, nothing more could exist. Nothing more was feasible. He lacked the time for the love and commitment routine.
The twitch of her hand against his forced him to question his callous thoughts. A beautiful person with feeling and desires he’d only just begun to understand, she’d won his respect. Devoted, she’d fought to protect her family and also to maintain her career.
As his responsibility, he sought to secure her safety and convince her, their marriage could work. But . . .
The car stopped in front of his building. He stood with her in his arms and then strolled through the lobby. Right now, with her in danger, he’d have to worry about his emotional attachment for her later. The lift doors opened. He stepped inside and pushed the button for his floor. The lift jerked to a start. His arms tightened. She moaned and struggled for her next breath.
“Could the floors be any farther apart?” Stihl growled an iton before the doors opened to his floor.
Hurrying down the hall, Stihl saw Cyd standing by the open door.
“Where’s Harrigun?”
“I’m here. Why do you think she’s been poisoned?” Harrigun walked out of the service room.
Stihl gently laid Marohka on the couch and quickly backed out of Harrigun’s way. “I saw green spots on her tongue.”
He squatted beside Marohka and opened her mouth. “Yes, I can see them.” He tugged an amber-colored bottle from his pocket and placed several drops into her mouth. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m not really sure.” Stihl rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “We ate dinner and then drank a little wine at the theater. She seemed fine until the lights went out. Then she suddenly jumped up and ran out of the theater. I followed her, and she collapsed in my arms when we reached the lobby.”
“Has she responded at all since she fainted?” Cyd asked.
“No, she hasn’t regained consciousness since she passed out. She’s barely been able to breathe.” Stihl struggled along with her each time her chest rose and fell with effort. “I rushed her here for you to check her, Harrigun. You can’t let her die.”
He suddenly realized his potential mistake. “Should I have taken her to the medical center?”
Harrigun smiled and looked up. “No. From what I can tell, she didn’t consume much of the poison. Other than a few small spots in her mouth, there are no other major indications of distress.”
“Then she’ll be all right?”
“Yes, her breathing is already improving.” Harrigun stood and patted Stihl on the back. “No harm done. If she’d consumed more—well, then we could’ve had a problem.”
Stihl shrugged off his coat and threw it over the arm of the couch. He settled on the low table in front of Marohka. Her eyes closed, her skin pale, she appeared almost dead. Running his hand lightly over the pulse in her wrist, he reassured himself of her place among the living.
“The bad part is the antidote will take a while to work through her system. She’ll be out for the rest of the evening.”
Cyd laughed. “That’s probably a good thing. Otherwise, Stihl might be the one at the medical center.”
“A feisty one? Did she put up a good fight in the mating arena?” Harrigun sank onto the other couch next to Cyd.
“You better betcha.” Cyd chuckled. “This Luke here wouldn’t have stood a chance if he hadn’t received help from her trainer.”
Stihl stared at her, struggling to find answers for what had happened. “Why would anyone drug her? She doesn’t even know anyone in town.”
“Maybe she wasn’t the target,” Harrigun said.
Stihl shuffled through his jumbled thoughts. To calm his nerves, he lifted Marohka’s hand and laid it in the center of his. “That might be true, but what were they hoping to achieve? Me dead? And if so, for what purpose?”
“Well, there’s the Trisar business. Maybe someone doesn’t want you to close the deal,” Cyd offered.
Stihl tried to wrap his brain around the idea. “No, I can’t see that as a reason for wanting Marohka or me dead.”
“What about a jealous lover?” Harrigun asked. “There might be a man who wanted her for himself.”
“Then they missed their target,” Cyd said.
Stihl observed the pale color of her face. “No, if someone loved her. They wouldn’t have taken this type of chance.”
The couch squeaked. Harrigun shifted his position. “What about your inheritance? Could someone be after that?”
Stihl really disliked the idea. He glared at the two men on the other couch.
“He’s got a point.” Cyd’s eyes narrowed. “If something happened to her, your father would revoke your rights to the land. So it won’t matter if he killed you or Marohka, he’d still eliminate the problem either way. You wouldn’t receive your family’s property or the rights to mine.”
“If you’re right, she could still be in danger?” Stihl stroked her hand and worried about what to do.
“It’s hard to say, but it’s a serious concern.” Cyd glanced at Marohka. “We’ll need to be very careful and keep our eyes open.”
“Where did you get the drinks at the theatre?” Harrigun asked.
“Lord Kaleva and Lady Lisha brought them over to us. I can’t be certain where he bought them. The bar, a waiter . . . anyone could’ve tampered with them before he delivered them.” Stihl paused a moment in thought. “Also, they weren’t at the party where Dusty died. How would they know to use the same poison? You told me it was rare.”
“I didn’t say they did it. I was just trying to narrow the field. Was anyone else there that you knew?” Harrigun asked.
Stihl reviewed the events of the evening. He hadn’t noticed anyone but Marohka. “Not that I recall seeing.”
Harrigun shifted to the edge of the couch and rose to his feet. “Then we’re still at a loss as to who could be behind this attack.”
“Maybe your father could help.” Cyd stood too.
“No, he’ll only want us to move in with him, and I can’t live with Tankton.” Stihl added for Harrigun’s benefit, “My brother and his family are currently staying with my parents.”
“Tankton says he’s trying to save money for a big investment deal he’s got going,” Cyd said.
“Right,” Stihl added.
Cyd drifted toward the door. “We’ll just have to be vigilant and not let Marohka out of our sight.”
“I’ll file the reports on the incident with the authorities so there’ll be a record of the problem.” Harrigun handed a bottle to Cyd. “Here’s some more antidote in case you need it. She should be fine, but if she has any problems, give me a call.”
“Thanks, Harrigun. I appreciate your coming.” Stihl rose. “I think I’d better get her to bed.”
The two men watc
hed Stihl lift Marohka into his arms. “You did say she’d be out for the night?
Both men smiled.
“I’m sorry to say whatever you had planned for the evening will have to wait. There’s not an antidote to the antidote.” Harrigun’s words rang with laughter.
Stihl admired her beautiful face and released a small chuckle. “Well, at least I can undress her without a fight.”
He shut the bedroom door behind him with his foot and walked to the large bed. After laying her down, he slid her coat off her shoulders. Her short hair circled her head like a renegade’s crown. He wondered where she found the energy and strength to constantly oppose him.