Hidden Danger

by Amy Patrick

  Turning toward the street, I retched over the gutter. Wonderful. My crappy night was now complete. Thankfully, I didn’t order room service back at the hotel, so there wasn’t anything but liquid to throw up.

  Culley waited for me to regain my composure, rubbing my back gently. He handed me a tissue, and that’s when I noticed he was holding my purse. I’d forgotten I even had a purse.

  “Thanks.” I took the tissue from him and wiped my face then resumed the painfully slow walk of shame home from the club.

  “Only two more blocks, Angel. Come on. You can make it—that comfy bed awaits,” Culley urged as my steps slowed to a stop.

  I shook my head. “No. I can’t make it.” I wobbled to the curb and sat down, resting my forehead on my bare knees.

  Culley’s hands came under my arms, pulling me to my feet again. “Believe me—you do not want to sit on this sidewalk.”

  “I’m too tired,” I protested.

  My whine was cut off when Culley swept my legs from beneath me and lifted me in a cradle hold against his chest.

  “No,” I said and shook my head, but that only made the spinning worse. I let it fall to the side against his neck and closed my eyes. “I’m shorry. I don’t usually drink sho musch,” I slurred.

  A low laugh shook his chest. “You don’t say.”

  The rhythm of his steps lulled me into silence. I was so tired. Sick and tired. In spite of my suspicion that the morning would bring fresh pain, it felt too good right now to slip into oblivion and forget about this long, horrific day.

  Chapter Seven

  The Morning After

  Someone was shining a laser beam into my eyes. The red glow was painful, and the interruption to my heavy sleep most unwelcome.

  Cracking my eyelids, I located the source of the torturous light. The floor-to-ceiling drapes of my hotel room were parted slightly, and the morning sun slanted through the opening directly onto my face. I attempted to get up and shut them but only made it about an inch or two off the pillow before the pain sliced through my brain, followed by an incessant throbbing that turned my stomach.

  “Ohhhh,” I moaned, letting my head fall back again. “Whoever invented shots should be shot.”

  A friendly male voice interjected. “I agree. Along with the twit who purchased them last night.”

  Jerking my head up, I spotted Culley rising from a chair beside the bed. He stretched. My sudden movement spun the room and my stomach, causing me to lean over the edge of the bed and gag. There was no trash can there, so thank goodness it was only a dry heave.

  “Don’t expect anything to come up, love,” Culley stated blandly. “I believe you’ve expelled the entire liquid makeup of your body in the past eight hours.” He crossed the room and placed an open water bottle on the bedside table. “Here you go... when you’re ready.”

  “Oh no,” I groaned and collapsed back into the mattress. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven o’clock. I gave up on an early start to our trip at around five a.m.”

  I cracked an eyelid to look at him. “What are you doing in my room?”

  He grinned. “This is my room. And I brought you here because you were too sick to be left alone.” As I rolled my head to the side to inspect the other half of the king bed, Culley answered my next question before I could ask it. “And no—I did not sleep with you. For one thing, you’re not as attractive as you might imagine when you’re full as a boot. For another, you needed someone to watch over you—people in your condition have been known to asphyxiate themselves during the night.”

  “You’ve been awake all night?”

  He nodded.

  I ran my hands over my sore diaphragm and belly. How many times had I vomited during the night? Then I noticed the fabric under my fingertips. It didn’t feel like the dress I’d worn to the nightclub. I pulled it up a bit so I could check it out. Not red. A heathered gray. It felt soft. It felt expensive.

  “Is this your t-shirt?” I asked.

  “It is indeed.”

  Struggling to sit up and support myself on my elbows, I leveled a glare at Culley. “You took my clothes off?”

  He laughed. “I did. And again, it wasn’t quite the pleasure I’d expected when I’ve imagined that scenario in the past.” Reading my perturbed expression, he explained. “Sadly, your dress was ruined. I threw it out, got you into the shower and lent you a shirt. So shoot me.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I muttered, humiliated that Culley had seen me in such a state. Had seen me naked. And that I could remember nothing about it. I’d finally found something that could replicate my brand of glamour—getting blind, stinking drunk.

  Did my victims experience hangovers like this? If so, I was getting no more than what I deserved. I’d earned this and more for what I’d done to Trey last night. Last night. The club. The dancing.

  “What happened to Brad?” I asked.

  “What do you mean—did I drop his big country arse for feeling you up? No. I left him to work his magic on some other overserved girl. Were you sorry to leave him?”

  Culley’s tone surprised me. He sounded annoyed. He sounded jealous. Was his interest in me more than an act? More than duty? And if so—why me? Everywhere we went I was slapped in the face with the never-ending female admiration he inspired. He could literally have any woman on the planet. What was so special about me?

  “No,” I answered honestly. “I’m sorry for last night. For... all of... this.”

  I gestured to the borrowed shirt I wore, gestured toward the room at large. I shouldn’t have even been there, much less in his bed, forcing him to spend an undoubtedly uncomfortable night in a chair—when he wasn’t cleaning up after me. Ugh.

  “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I do,” he said. “You’re a nice girl. You have a good heart. It hurts you to hurt others.” He got up and moved toward the bathroom. “We all have our ways of drowning it out—but if I may be so bold—you should probably find something other than Jack Daniels.”

  Before stepping into the bathroom, Culley pulled off last night’s shirt and stuffed it into the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. “I’m going to shower now, and then we’ll get something to eat before we hit the road. As soon as you’re able, you should go back to your room and pack your things.”

  “Okay,” I breathed, nearly gasping from the sight of him shirtless. It was the second time I’d seen him that way, and the shock of it today was no less acute—the long, well-muscled arms, the wide shoulders and chest, the defined torso. Culley was a beautiful man. Even in the throes of the world’s ugliest hangover, I couldn’t deny it.

  Closing my eyes, I sank back into the pillow, girding myself to get up. When the sound of the shower turning on came through the thin wall between the bathroom and the sleeping area, I couldn’t help but imagine him dropping his jeans and stepping into the stream of water.

  No. Don’t think about it. It’s pointless.

  The vision blurred, replaced by Asher’s gleaming smile, and adorable dimples, and tall, lanky form. My belly flipped—in a pleasant way this time—from the memory of our kiss. It was everything a first kiss should be, and in spite of the fact it should never have happened, I wasn’t sorry it had.

  I should have been sorry. I had no business thinking of either Asher or Culley in a romantic way since I’d be with neither of them. Asher was human. Culley was... Culley—and his father’s son. No, I was going to be alone, and that was how it had to be.

  Before I could force myself from the comfort of the bed, another set of images came into my mind. Culley—stroking my hair and touching my cheek, his voice soft and sweet, telling me I’d be okay, that I’d feel better soon and to sleep, just sleep. “I’ll watch over you,” he said.

  Was that last night? Had it really happened or had I dreamed it in my intoxicated slumber? It was all such a whiskey-soaked blur.

  My eyelids opened as I heard the water stop. Heart pounding at least as hard as my head,
I slid from the bed and dashed for the hotel room door. As much as I hated to move, I did not want to be here when he emerged from the bathroom, wet and naked. Not after what I’d just remembered.

  Not only had Culley stayed up all night guarding my sleep, I was pretty sure he’d pressed a kiss to my cheek at one point and whispered the most terrifying words I’d ever heard.

  “You’re mine, and I’m going to take care of you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Secret Garden

  It was after lunchtime when we finally got back on the road.

  “Will your father be angry with you for getting to New York later than expected?”

  “Probably.” Culley turned to grin at me. “When is he ever not angry, though, right? We might as well do something to earn his lordly ire. Speaking of...”

  Culley pulled to the right lane and took the next exit.

  “What are we doing? We’ve barely been on the road a half hour.”

  A wicked grin lit his face. “Well, as you said, we’re already late—what’s a little more time? There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. I still felt weak, not really up to the drive and really not up to arguing. If Culley wanted to make a pit stop and disregard his dad’s time-schedule, it was fine with me.

  Entering a long, tree-lined drive, we approached an enormous brick-fronted Georgian mansion. The front of it was lined with balconies and white columns. As we pulled into the circular front drive, I read the sign.

  “It’s a hotel,” I said in surprise.

  “This is not any ordinary hotel—this is the Gaylord Opryland Hotel and Resort. After I got old enough to be ‘useful’ to my father, he occasionally had me come visit him here in the States. We stayed at this place once when he had business in Nashville. Wait until you see the inside.”

  “Um... okay,” I said, the doubt evident in my tone. We’d just left a hotel. I couldn’t imagine what allure another hotel could possibly hold, no matter how massive it was. Leaving the car with a valet, we walked through the rotating glass door, and I had my answer. The gleaming lobby was centered by a colorful art glass sculpture that stood taller than Culley. Looming above it, a huge inverse dome tile mosaic was set into the ceiling, bearing a striking resemblance to a giant kaleidoscope. Its pattern featured magnolias and honeybees as well as musical instruments like fiddles and banjos, a nod to the Music City.

  “This is pretty,” I said.

  Culley gave me a knowing grin. “This is not what I wanted to show you. Be patient.” Gesturing for me to follow, he bypassed the registration desks and headed for a wide open atrium area beyond them.

  “So we’re not checking in?” I asked.

  “No. We really do have to get on the road today—but I couldn’t let you leave Nashville without seeing this first.”

  We reached the Cascades atrium, and I was in another world. It was the closest thing in real life to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory—minus the candy and Oompa Loompas—with indoor rivers and waterfalls, lush tropical trees and plants, and far over our heads, a glass ceiling letting in the brilliant sunshine. As we crossed a footbridge and walked the winding path, we passed bistro patio restaurants that gave the feel of dining outdoors in the fresh air while actually being inside a perfectly climate-controlled environment.

  We watched dancing fountains lighted by multi-colored lights then took a passageway to another vast atrium structure called the Delta, where flat-bottomed boats took visitors for a ride on an impressive man-made river. I stood at the railing and peeked over the edge at some of the largest fish I’d ever seen in my life swimming in the waters below.

  “This is amazing, Culley. It reminds me of Altum in many ways. How did humans ever build this?”

  He wore a pleased expression. “Who’s to say the architects weren’t Elven? I knew you’d like it. You haven’t even seen the best part of it yet. Come on.”

  He grabbed my hand to lead me toward the next indoor environment called the Conservatory, and caught up in the excitement, I did not withdraw it.

  “This,” Culley said grandly as we stepped onto a second-story platform, “is what I wanted to show you.”

  “Oh... wow.” There was green as far as the eye could see. The raised platform overlooked an indoor garden that was literally several acres in size and contained no less than tens of thousands of plants. The walls surrounding it were dotted with balconies from the hotel rooms that overlooked the carefully cultivated paradise.

  How lucky were those people who got to stay here, maybe with someone they loved, to explore every nook and cranny of this magical environment. I didn’t have that long, but I intended to see as much of it as I could. Nothing made me happier than being near green, growing things. For the first time today, I forgot about my hangover and the rough night behind us. I nearly ran down the stairs to the main floor where a path led into the lush landscaping.

  The pebbled sidewalk wound around rock structures, streams, waterfalls, and a graceful vine-covered gazebo. The air smelled fresh and alive with greenery and flowers. Each turn in the path brought me face to face with a different species of plant or flower or vine, many of which I’d never seen before. It seemed every space was filled with something beautiful. Every shade of green was represented. The plant life was complimented by spotlights in some areas and low, hidden landscaping lamps in others, giving the whole place a mysterious secret garden feel.

  I turned to look at Culley at one point, unable to hold in my smile. “Do you think they’d let me live here?”

  He laughed and took my hand again. “I’m afraid not, but we’ll come back soon—I promise.”

  I was too giddy with the joy of discovery to correct him. I would come back here again someday—hopefully—but we would not be together. Still... I appreciated him introducing me to this special place more than I could say.

  I stood for a moment, watching koi gliding along the bottom of a tranquil pool and inhaling the mix of fresh fragrances of the garden. My headache had calmed, my stomach settled. I felt... good. How had Culley known I’d love this? Why had he gone to the trouble of bringing me here and risking his father’s ire by arriving even later in New York?

  He stepped up close behind me. “I hate to say it, but we should go.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and turned to follow him back along the path toward the lobby.

  As we stood waiting for the valet to bring our car around, I looked up at him. He glanced down to meet my gaze. A half smile curved his lips. “What?”

  “How did you know? That this was the perfect place to bring me?”

  He shrugged, and I could have sworn he blushed. “I pay attention. You comment all the time on plants and flowers. You mentioned starting a garden one time. I thought you’d enjoy it.” He paused. “And I was right.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “It was wonderful. It really was the best medicine. But now we’ll be so late arriving in New York. What do you think Audun will say?”

  “That is a problem for future Culley and Ava.” He nodded firmly, and his tone turned playful. “Maybe we won’t even go to New York, eh? Maybe we’ll turn south instead and go to Savannah—it’s famous for its lovely parks and moss-strewn trees, you know. Or to the everglades of Florida? Find you some more flora and fauna to explore.”

  I gave him a baffled glance. Would he really defy his father completely and leave the Dark Court to travel with me? Did he long to escape it as well?

  For a moment I felt a flicker of something—excitement or... hope, maybe? Maybe he wasn’t as loyal to the Dark Council and his father as I’d believed. Maybe I didn’t have to spend eternity alone. Culley and I could leave together, travel, see the world. We weren’t best friends or anything but he wasn’t as bad as I’d thought—not after the way he’d taken care of me last night and gone out of his way to please me today. We might actually have a good time together, and in time, get to know one another for real.

  “Culley... what are you saying?”<
br />
  He cut his eyes over at me and took a breath, opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. As he opened it again his phone rang. Culley answered.

  “Yes father?”

  There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “Well that will have to wait. I’m afraid we’ll be delayed in getting there. Ava was quite ill last night and she’s been unable to travel—we’re just getting back on the road now.” Another pause as he listened to Audun’s response. “Of course she did her job—I’m with her, aren’t I? I wouldn’t allow her to fail.”

  I was instantly annoyed. His words. His self-assured tone. Scratch that thought about him ever being disloyal to Audun—he was falling in line like a well-trained soldier. He’d never defy his father even if he had the guts to. I was stupid for even thinking of us running away together. I was on my own, and that was that.

  After another period of silence, Culley said in an offended tone, “Of course I did. When have I not accomplished a task you’ve assigned me? Don’t you know me by now? It’s as if I’m just another one of your subjects or something.”

  Before he hung up, Culley muttered, “I understand. Very well. We’ll see you in a couple of days then.”

  He set the phone back into the console holder and drove in silence, his fingers gripping the steering wheel, his jaw working tensely.

  “So... what was all that about?”

  His face relaxed. “Oh nothing but our own delightful brand of family dynamics at work. And Father asked me to make a few more brief stops on our trip home.”

  “I see. What about Savannah?”

  He glanced over at me and shook his head. “Not today, love. Maybe for our honeymoon, eh? Though I’d like to show you Australia, too.”

  I didn’t respond to that. There would be no honeymoon for us—in Savannah or Australia or anywhere. I couldn’t marry him. For one thing, I couldn’t trust him. For another, as soon as I betrayed Audun, Culley would become my sworn enemy—not exactly ideal when you’re bonded for eternity. No, the best thing I could do would be to keep him at a distance, keep my own plans secret, and do my best to discover what he was doing for his father.