by Sakwa, Kim
He had to be at least six and half feet tall, and at five-eight herself, he’d still tower over her once he got close, if he got close. And why, she puzzled again as she repositioned her feet on the slippery rock beneath her, did he keep calling her Rebecca? And who had those other large men on horses been? The ones who’d scared her so much, she’d actually felt safer feeling her way along the cliff outside the cave than accepting their offers of help while this stranger had gone after Robert.
It had been light when she’d entered the tunnels from the gardens in back of the castle, wending through the elegantly set chairs and tables awaiting their guests. Everything had been placed carefully, so the natural beauty the estate had to offer was paramount. Unable to resist the view, Amanda had sat for a while before heading to find her favorite alcove within the maze of tunnels in the torchlit caverns by the sea.
Somehow, she’d become lost—something that had never happened before—winding around for what seemed like hours. She’d worried that someone would notice her missing, that the guests would be eager for their performance, but no matter what turn she took, Amanda remained lost. The ground beneath her feet had become damp. The beautiful furnishings that her father had had set within the secluded alcoves years ago were mysteriously gone. The only things that remained were the torches affixed to the rock wall lighting her way. She was grateful at least for that.
Amanda had heard the sea first and turned toward the sound to find the opening of the path she’d been on. The path she was now below. She’d headed toward it briskly, knowing she’d be able to find her way from there. She’d stopped in the opening, awed by the beautiful sight. The sky so alive with stars, making it the most amazing thing she’d ever seen in her life.
She’d closed her eyes, having one of those epiphanies that seem to come only once every so often. Those times when you just know something is so very right, so right you feel it entirely and commit it to memory forever. It felt as though she’d belonged right there, in that very moment and at that very time. As if all the answers were there for the taking. Amanda forgot about being lost, forgot about the party waiting for her, forgot about Robert even, and how he’d been acting odd as of late. And as feelings of peace and contentment rolled through her, lightning tore through the calm night sky. She’d laughed, wondering if it meant to prove or disprove her point.
Then she’d felt hands as they grabbed her, saw the venom in Robert’s eyes as he looked at her, into her. She’d fought with everything she had, fought against the man she’d thought would be, if nothing else, protective of her forever. She’d heard horses then, the shouts and echoes louder as they came closer. Robert had been pulled off of her as she stood shaking, staring at the four men who sat atop the largest mounts she’d ever seen. The men had been huge, each wearing long-sleeved shirts and black capes secured by gold braided ropes at the neck and tall black riding boots. She’d been grateful at first, but then she saw their expressions and her fear came back with a vengeance. They looked at her with…with disgust?
The men had kept coming closer with each backward step she took. Their looks so menacing they terrified her. She didn’t know them, but they seemed to recognize her—more than that they seemed to despise her, but how on earth was that possible? She’d never seen any of them before. Had Robert hired them? Was all of this because of Robert’s greed? Did he really need more than what her father had generously provided? It had always been clear that Amanda would get the estate when her father died. What had Robert thought would happen? Was her life worth the pittance he’d inherit upon her death?
As the men on horses watched, Amanda had stepped closer to the opening and her feet slipped against the slick rocks. She’d only fallen a short distance, but her dress had caught and snagged on the rock wall behind her. She’d felt sharp cuts on her hand and stomach as she’d clung with all her might at any hold, all of them small and slippery. The ledge was no more than two feet wide, but she’d caught a glimpse of another cave’s opening to her right. Quickly judging its distance, Amanda knew she could make it with a calculated leap. She’d turned as slowly as possible, pressing into the wall as she made her way to safety. Then she looked down.
Amanda had begun shaking so badly she couldn’t hear the calls from above, only the rushing water eddying below her. Cast within the shadows, she’d thought perhaps the men above couldn’t see her anymore. Hopefully, they’d think she’d fallen.
It had seemed forever went by until she regained her courage. Amanda took a deep breath and moved toward the opening she’d clocked on her right. She’d almost made it, too, when he arrived. The man who called her Rebecca yelled at her as if he knew her, hated her. He stood in the opening that a minute ago had been her escape. Now it didn’t seem to be freedom before her but surrender instead.
“What game is this, Rebecca?” he demanded, his hair blowing back from the wind. My God, he was the most fearsome, yet compelling man she’d ever seen.
“Becca, I’ll not ask again—give me your hand!” he demanded once more, somehow even angrier now.
Looking at his hand, she hesitated. She knew she had no choice, but an odd sensation settled over her at the same time. She felt—she knew—that if she reached for him, it would be more than her life she owed him. If she reached for him it would be far, far more.
“Your hand, Rebecca!” he yelled as a flash of lightning tore through the sky. Emboldened, she looked directly at him and saw something inexplicable pass through his eyes. The anger abated, just for a moment, as his eyes shifted into an expression of, what? Confusion? A softening of some sort, anyway.
That was enough for Amanda. She reached out, her hand shaking until he grasped it, and at that moment their eyes locked again, and the lightning storm seemed to electrify them both. He pulled her back with such force they fell through the mouth of the cavern and Amanda collapsed on top of him. Momentarily forgetting where she was, and who he was, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him, the full relief of her rescue taking over everything else.
For a moment, he embraced her, too, but only for a moment. Roughly, he pushed her away, startling Amanda.
“Rebecca?” he said again, holding her at arm’s length.
Remembering the anger that had flooded his eyes moments before, and the intimidating men on horses, Amanda leapt up, backing away. Then she ran through the cavern, suddenly more scared than she’d been in her life, even more than when she’d clung to the cliffs only moments ago. Her heart was racing and not just in fear. He scared her, but…but something about the way he’d looked at her scared her more. It had been like he’d stared into her soul and was confused about what he’d found there. Amanda could hear his footsteps echoing behind her as she ran. She turned as the tunnel split, running down the darkened path, a scream escaping her lips as his hands grasped her shoulders. She tried to fight, but he was so strong. Then he whirled her around so fast it took her breath away.
They stood in the darkness facing each other, this handsome, terrifying stranger. His tone angry again, he asked, “What game do you play, Rebecca?”
She was too frightened to answer, too overcome by his anger, his forceful hold, his features. His face a mere inch from hers, his breath warm upon her face. She shivered.
“Answer me, Rebecca. Now!” he demanded, shaking her as if to drive the answer out. Amanda felt a tear fall from the corner of one eye and she squeezed both shut to prevent any more. As she did, the man swore under his breath. “What were you thinking, Rebecca? No matter how much we despise one another, Callesandra deserves a mother, even one who doesn’t care.”
Amanda remained frozen still, this time out of confusion. Who did he think she was?
“Bloody hell, Rebecca, what’s gotten into you? You’re never at a loss for words, and always have an excuse for everything. And running away? Now?” he said, his voice low, but his tone menacing. “Guests—your guests—ar
e already beginning to arrive for the festivities, an affair you insisted upon! Personally, I hate these gatherings, Rebecca, and you know that. I think you actually enjoy that I hate them. Well, you win,” he spat. “I loathe pretending to appear complacent while you flaunt yourself and dance with every willing partner. You know it’s only for Callesandra—the only good thing to come out of marrying you—that I even continue the pretense of caring for you in public. We haven’t shared a bed in years, and I know you’ve sought others.”
Amanda tried to speak, to protest—he clearly thought she was someone else—but he was on a roll now, his dark eyes flashing with anger, not appearing to even see her as he ranted.
“No, Rebecca. I won’t be the one gossiped about, at least not about infidelity. Callesandra will still have one parent she can respect. She’s the only one I care about, which is more than you can say. And for her I won’t play this foolish game in which you so love to engage,” he said, his voice dripping with distaste.
Amanda shook her head, a gesture of denial. “I play no game,” she cried in a whisper, once he paused long enough for her to speak. She clutched his arms in her desperation to make him believe her.
He seemed to react to that. His eyes softened and he seemed to be about to speak again when the sound of his men approaching caused them both to turn. The tunnel was suddenly cast in light and Amanda shivered as he stared at her, deeply, intently as if searching for something in her eyes. Then he grabbed her hand and she muffled a cry as he squeezed it harshly, pulling her out of the tunnel and onto the lawn. One of the men approached, leading a horse by the reins. Amanda stared at it, then at the men. For a moment she forgot her fear as she looked around the estate’s Great Lawn, still familiar, but not quite as she’d left it.
The manicured grounds were being illuminated by at least four groundskeepers she’d never seen before. They were tending to the lampposts, one by one, setting them ablaze. Horse-drawn carriages, several of them, were making their way down the long drive toward the estate. Amanda rubbed the back of her head, wincing as she felt a bump.
“Did my staff hire you and your men for tonight?” she wondered aloud, turning to the man who’d saved her before she could stop herself. “I know it’s a costume party, but seriously, your outfits are amazing.” She touched the fabric of his breeches at the hip, then rubbed part of his linen shirt between her fingers. “Actually, I’d swear they’re authentic.”
The man looked confused and then scoffed, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch. Fine, be that way, she thought, suddenly much less afraid now that she was back on solid ground and with so many other people milling about.
“Alexander,” the man with the horse said, and the man who’d saved her turned. “It’s getting late.”
Ah, so that was his name. Alexander. It suited him, Amanda thought.
Alexander’s expression tensed again, and he nodded to his friend. “Thank you, Gregor. Rebecca, get on,” he spat out, looking at her expectantly. Amanda didn’t move. “Get on, Rebecca,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “Your guests have already begun to arrive.”
Amanda looked back and forth between the horse and Alexander, and then toward the group of men, Gregor in front. Alexander glared down at her and a small bit of fear crept back. She tried to hide it, but she was too tired to make a real effort. She shook her head to prove her point. She was not getting on that thing. For starters, she didn’t know how.
His men looked even angrier than he, like they despised her even more than Alexander, if that was at all possible. “Leave her, Alexander,” another one of them said. “We’ll see she gets back.”
Suddenly Amanda didn’t want Alexander to leave. She gasped, grasping his forearms with her hands. He was frightening, yes, and a stranger still, but at least he’d saved her life. “Go ahead,” he ordered his men, keeping his gaze fixed upon hers. “We’ll follow shortly.” His men grunted in unison, then turned and left in the direction from which they’d come.
Once again, they were shrouded in darkness.
“Take the mount, Rebecca. I’ll walk back,” he offered, as if the only thing holding her back was that she didn’t want to ride with him. He turned then, leaving her alone, and began walking. Amanda had to hold back a laugh. Okay, so he wasn’t going to hurt her. He might hate her, but he was trying to help. She watched as he retreated, patting the horse absentmindedly. She could walk it back, she supposed, but she’d prefer to wait until Alexander and his friends had gone completely.
After a few minutes, however, she was startled to see him marching back her way. “Rebecca, take the mount!” he shouted in frustration.
“I don’t know how,” she whispered, suddenly embarrassed.
He threw his torch to the ground and grasped her shoulders, hauling her around to stand before him. “Cease your games,” he said, seething. “You love horses. More than anything. They’re probably the one thing you do love besides yourself.”
Amanda had no idea what to do; she couldn’t get on that horse, but she found she couldn’t pull away from this man, either. Never mind that he towered over her, never mind his apparent anger, she felt safe with him. Like she somehow knew that he wouldn’t harm her. At a loss for words, and so confused she’d already forgotten what he demanded, she only shook her head.
He looked down at her then, with a curious expression. Amanda stared back, momentarily forgetting that she didn’t know him, that she’d almost been murdered, and that she still had a piano performance to give. Then his expression changed into something even more startling: desire, very real and oh so raw. A flush went through Amanda as she felt it too. He continued to stare into her eyes and then at her lips. They stayed frozen like that for a moment and then, as if this was what everything had been leading toward, his hands palmed her head and his lips covered hers.
They each made a sound at the contact; the sensation was electrifying and seemed to hit each of her nerve endings. He pulled back then as if stunned and stared deeply into her eyes, looking at her features as if they were new to him. With a look of confusion, he shook his head then pulled her close once more. She may have met him halfway.
My God, this man could kiss.
Rational thought fled Amanda’s mind as he all but devoured her, feasting upon her with such need he took her very breath. Lost in sensation he pulled her against his body, crushing her breasts to his chest. A groan escaped his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Alexander, suddenly, seemed to be an anchor, not someone to be afraid of, and she found in him, what? Salvation? Was this where fate had been leading her ever since that moment in the opening of the cave, the moment when everything had felt perfect and right? Whatever it was, this kiss felt like none she’d had before. Demanding, powerful, and so consuming she didn’t realize her feet dangled above the ground as her hands moved up to cover the back of his head. Too late she was lost again, lost in his strength and his thick hair now tangled between her fingers.
Suddenly he pushed her away, swearing under his breath, “Damn you.”
It was all he said, then she remembered that he hated her, or the woman he thought she was. For some reason that realization hurt more than the others she’d been crassly exposed to tonight. Before she knew it, he picked her up roughly and placed her on the saddle. She grabbed the knob, terrified of falling, and when he came up behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against him. He didn’t say anything but made a clicking sound and tugged on the reins to urge his mount forward.
They wound along the path for long, tense, seemingly endless minutes before the gardens came into view. The marble veranda stretched across the back of the castle was now filled with people, the tall iron lamps casting a glow. Everyone was dressed impeccably, and she was again taken aback by the opulence of everyone’s costumes. Men in formal tails and cravats and snugly fit trouser
s tucked into tall polished boots. And the women in beautiful dresses like she’d seen only in history books. Tight-fitting bodices, bell skirts, and ornate jewels fixed around their necks and even laced in their hair. Who were these people?
Amanda scanned the faces around her, but none of them were familiar. None of Robert’s friends, none of her own guests. No, this was not the party she’d left earlier!
Alexander spoke then, “Why do you shake? You love these gatherings.”
“I hate parties,” Amanda corrected him, still focused on finding at least one person she knew, and definitely still tingling from their kiss moments earlier.
“You’ve tried my patience enough, Rebecca,” he snapped. “Dress quickly. I’ll retrieve you once I’ve changed.”
He dismounted then reached for her. His hands encircled her waist as he pulled her down, then he let go quickly as if burned by the touch. Disappointed, she followed him through the doors, knowing she had no choice but to go inside. The sights in front of the castle were just as unsettling as those behind it. Carriages circled the large courtyard, footmen helping guests as they stepped to the ground below.
Amanda held back a gasp as she stepped through the doors. The entrance took her breath away—a foyer grand and opulent with marble floors and glowing chandeliers. This was also not the castle she’d left earlier.
A woman came forward and quickly took her hand. “M’lady, hurry. We must get you dressed.” Amanda was pulled up the stairs. The stairs themselves were familiar, as was the basic structure of everything else around her, but the runner was covered in burgundy and gold. In fact, all of the décor was different, the furniture, the art. And the lights that had been dim this evening were ablaze with oil wicks and candles.