Wicked Knight

by Tierney O'Malley

  “Yes. You can use the blue room. It's the only guest room ready, but I still don't think you should stay. You make me nervous.”

  Tristan hung the dishtowel on the oven's handle, then walked toward Julie. He pulled a chair and placed it in front of Julie. With his back on the chair, he stared at her. “Are you worried of me because of what—”

  “No! Of course I am not worried about you. It's Marla.” What I am worried about is myself. How was she going to control her hormones knowing he'd be in the house? She was proud of herself for avoiding any male contacts, whatsoever. At the age of twenty-three, she kept herself intact. Now, now that she knew how pleasurable it was to be held and touched by a man, by Tristan, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to abstain from having sex with him again.

  “How come you didn't hire an attorney to defend you?”

  “I thought about it, nut I've dragged Mom's name in the mud many times in the past. I don't want to do it again. Besides, I want to prove I can be good. That I can stay clean, the way Mom wanted me to be. Not like this. Now, I'm staying out of trouble to keep Mom's money away from Dad and Marla.”

  “Hmmm... So if I tell Marla about your telephone pranks, you'd be stripped of properties and stocks and bonds?”

  Julie stood up abruptly, ignoring her sore ankle. “You wouldn't dare, Tristan. I swear I'd kill you if you did.”

  Tristan also stood. “Hey, love, I'm only kidding.”

  “Well, it's not funny.”

  “I'm sorry, it was a low joke. I promised Kirsten to take care of you, not throw you with the sharks.” He moved closer to Julie and rubbed her arms, up and down. “You can count on me. I wouldn't do anything to put you in any harm.”

  His fingers laced with hers. Julie knew it was a sign of reassurance, but to her it was fuel to a fire quickly spreading inside her stomach. She closed her eyes, afraid to reveal the passion in them.

  Warm soft lips touched her forehead and eyebrows. She leaned in to him and he let go of her fingers to wrap his arms around her.

  “I wish you had come to me right away. I could have helped you. You don't deserve this, love.”

  “You're here now. I feel fine already.”

  “Do you?” His voice husky, he ran his finger along her jaw and tilted her chin.

  “You're going to kiss me again? I thought no more kisses and touches.”

  “I know, but I am not a saint, love. Forgive me.” He lowered his head to kiss her ear.

  Julie squealed with delight, tickled by his breath. She felt her butt contract from the tickling sensation. “I guess a kiss would be okay.”

  “I won't kiss you without permission, love. Let me know—”

  “Stop talking. Just kiss me.” Julie moaned when Tristan took her mouth and kissed her hungrily. It was hard at first then turned soft and leisurely.

  His hands went inside her blouse to cup her breasts. “I love this. Do you like it?”

  Julie nodded. She couldn't speak if she wanted to anyway. With one hand squeezing her breast and the other tugging her nipple with his fingers, she couldn't think or talk, only feel. “You have my permission to do this anytime.” Julie was in a haze. She clung to him like a lifeline. She returned his kisses with ardor, curled her tongue with his and pressed her hips against his arousal without shame.

  “Hmmm...good. Oh, God, you're so smooth, so beautiful. Love?”

  “Yes?” she answered

  “Forget about the no kiss and touch rule. You'll have to tie me up to stop me from doing this.”

  Julie gasped for breath. “We could still kiss. There's no harm there, right?”

  “Julie, love. Kisses leads to something else.” Tristan cupped her face, moved an inch away from her so he could look into her eyes. “I can't promise not to make love with you. You should know that,” he said, in a husky voice simmering with checked passion. Tristan raked his hair, leaving it standing on end like Harry Potter's. “I need coffee. Do you mind if I make some coffee?”

  “Not at all, but Tristan, I am really worried about Marla.”

  “It is time you stop worrying. You are a friend of my family. I am here visiting. Marla can't just nail you for me being here.”

  “I hope you are right.”

  Tristan turned around and busied himself in the kitchen, leaving Julie still toasty from his hot touches.

  How had her infatuation with Tristan skyrocketed to the highest level? God, she was so in love with him. Too bad, the feeling wasn't mutual. Tristan might be physically attracted to her, but that didn't mean he loved her. When all of this was over, he would go back to the Orca's Island. What would happen to her then?

  The coffee pot started gurgling, taking Julie's mind off the questions that were running in her head. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted in the kitchen. Yeah, she could use a cup.

  Tristan was opening the cupboards, his back to her. He looked so great in jeans. She had seen him many times in his slacks and long-sleeved shirts with ties—he looked great in semi-formal clothes. But in blue jeans, he was simply ruggedly gorgeous, like a dangerous cowboy. Julie licked her lips. She'd seen lots of male models, but they didn't have the same effect on her Tristan did.

  Tristan reached for the coffee mugs in the cupboards, giving Julie a tantalizing view of his flexing muscles through the white shirt. And his butt...hmm...she could look at it all day. She had felt those muscles when he pleasured her. Strong and powerful. She wondered what he was looking for in a woman. Beautiful like Carly, of course. What else?

  “You're done looking. Do you want coffee now?”

  “I wasn't looking, I was just thinking,” she started, realizing Tristan caught her staring at his butt.

  Tristan brought the two mugs and gave one to her. “Thinking about what?”

  “About what Kirsten told me.”

  “Oh, boy. What did she tell you?”

  “Why you're floundering.”

  “Floundering?”

  “Yeah. You're a Pediatrician, established and so handsome, single and married moms take their babies to your clinic for as simple as a scratch on their knees. Women have been after you since sixth grade. Are you really serious about staying a bachelor again forever?”

  “Hmm...guess not. I'm getting married again in three days, right? With you?”

  “Ours is different.”

  “If you want to know if I would settle down and have kids and a dog, a backyard with a picket fence, and a minivan someday, it depends.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Depends on what?”

  “Love. When I fall in love again, I will settle down again. Right now though, my chance of finding the right one is nil.”

  “Why?”

  “Because before I could go out on a second date with a girl, Julie Parrish would sabotage my name, sending her running as if her ass was on fire.”

  “I did not sabotage your name. They are all gullible. They wouldn't believe me if they trusted you.”

  “Well, you see, they didn't get a chance to get to know me. Trust comes after more than three dates, love.” Tristan chuckled.

  Why, oh, why does he keep calling me love? “What's funny?”

  “You always blush.” He placed the coffee on the table, then bent down to level his gaze with her. “And this here,” he touched the base of her neck, “the pulse there, always jumps. So fascinating to watch.”

  Julie flinched, scorched by his fingertip. She forced herself not to lean into his hand and rub her cheek like a mewling cat. She sipped her coffee, when all she wanted to do was suck his finger. Good grief! Suck his finger? What in the world is wrong with me? He would drive her insane, she thought. By the time Marla and her beady-eyed son arrived, she'd be a roasted pig. She felt like being barbecued every time he was near her. Not good. Not at all.

  All the thoughts of sucking and rubbing her body made her knees go soft on her. She decided to sit down before she collapsed on the floor. She propped her foot on Tristan's chair and continued to sip her coffee
.

  “How's the foot?” he asked and sat beside her.

  “Still attached,” she answered.

  Tristan placed his coffee cup on the table, then lifted Julie's foot with care before sitting on the chair. He placed Julie's foot on his lap and started massaging her toes.

  “Why cold, suddenly? You really want us to continue kissing, huh?”

  “I'm not giving you a cold shoulder and I definitely do not want your kisses. Like you said, it leads to something more...uhm...intimate.” The word rolled off her tongue the way his rolled on her nipples.

  Coffee spurted out of her mouth. She couldn't believe where her line of thoughts were going. Never in her life had she thought of such carnal things, unless she was writing. Now Tristan hadn't even been in her house one day and she was already thinking like a wanton, sex depraved woman. She groaned so loud from embarrassment, Tristan laughed at her.

  Tristan pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, surprising Julie. She didn't know anyone who still carried that piece of material anymore.

  He dabbed at her chin and mouth. “You said you tripped a lot of times because you have big feet and long legs. Now tell me why you couldn't drink coffee without burning yourself? Got cow tongue?”

  “I do not have a cow tongue.” Julie flicked his nose and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Oww, God darn it, woman. You're aggressive.” He swatted her next attempt to flick his ear, laughing. “Hey, guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I heard on the news about a cow missing her eyelashes. You stole them, didn't you?”

  “Ha.Ha.”

  “So are you up for a little drive in downtown Seattle?”

  “What for?”

  “To apply for our wedding license, of course,” Tristan's eyes twinkled before cupping her face for a deep, long, and arousing kiss.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  * * * *

  Julie sat on the passenger's seat watching buildings and stores as they passed by. For the first time in two years, since her dad married Marla, she felt gloriously alive, happy, and free. She knew the cause of her excitement was the man sitting beside her. It was as if he somehow lifted the dark veil off her head and unbuckled the heavy chain Marla had attached on her.

  Downtown Seattle, as a funky metropolis, was as busy as always. She spotted the red sign for the famous Pike Street Market, Seattle Municipal Government and the City Hall, where they were heading. Artists or wannabe artists played their instruments to showcase their crafts on the streets. Rich cultural scenes, from museums to art galleries to the performing arts, were everywhere. Julie loved Seattle's professional symphony, ballet, and opera houses.

  They passed the Pacific Northwest Ballet Theater. Julie had been there many times. Every year, her mother would take her to see the Nutcracker. She liked watching the little German girl who dreamed of a Nutcracker prince who battled the fierce mouse king, so she took ballet. She liked the role so much that she begged her mom to give her ballet lessons. Laura succumbed to her relentless pleas. However, watching ballet and dancing it were two different things, she learned this quite late unfortunately. Her legs were too long and she couldn't move them as gracefully as the other ballet dancers could. After two weeks, she quit.

  They stopped at the stop light. “The city hall is between Fourth and Fifth Avenue. I'll park underground. Finding a parking spot on the side streets is a pain.”

  “Underground is fine.”

  Tristan revved the engine of his Targa 911. The sound attracted the attention of women standing in front of the modeling agency building. One woman—to Julie's irritation—motioned for Tristan to lower his window. Tristan shook his head and anchored his arm around her shoulders. The woman smirked, then looked away.

  “Why did you pass the chance? She's beautiful,” Julie asked, still irritated at the woman's boldness. Didn't she see her sitting here? Such a bitch.

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tristan grinned. “Don't tell me you're jealous.”

  “Why would I be? I don't even know her,” she snapped.

  “Don't worry, love. I'll be yours, soon.”

  “For a month. Lucky me.” She mumbled the last two words then looked out the window.

  “Wanna do some sightseeing while we're here? I'm hankering to walk at Alki Beach.”

  “A walk at the beach sounds good. But—”

  “Forget Marla. Don't worry. We'll have the license before we go out there. There is nothing wrong with celebrating an engagement, right?”

  “Okay.”

  Five minutes would have been enough to get the license, but with the teller flirting her life away with Tristan, the whole process of signing—and unnecessary interview—took forty-five minutes total. The teller in grungy look, with nose, lips, and brow piercings, boldly suggested that Tristan change his mind. The nerve!

  Tristan just laughed though, thanked the teller and pocketed the license.

  They picked a perfect day to walk. The sun was out, the spring air was cooler and no threatening dark clouds up above. The long beach strip that ran from Alki Point to Duwamish Head on Elliot Bay was busy with joggers, beachcombers, bicyclists, moms pushing strollers and even sunbathers. Julie started walking, but Tristan grabbed her hand, forcing her to face him.

  “You don't want to walk anymore?”

  “Oh, yes I do. I just want to kiss you first.”

  Right where people were walking, he kissed her. It was tender, and light as the spring breeze. She kissed him back, savoring the moment.

  When their lips finally parted, she leaned against him and buried her face in his shirt. Tristan wrapped his arms around her. “What was that for?”

  “The kiss?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “I've been wanting to kiss you since we left your home. Now was the chance to do it. Let's go while the sun is out.”

  Hand in hand, they walked along the beach. Once in a while, Tristan would pick up a rock to toss in the water, then he would seek her hand again. “Tristan, thanks for doing this.”

  “My pleasure.”

  * * * *

  With the wedding license burning inside his jeans’ front pocket, Tristan climbed the stairs two at a time. He knew he would wed Julie under the condition of helping her solve her dilemma, but the license was real.

  Signed by both of them.

  When he watched her sign her name, something glowed inside him. He wanted to shout with joy right there in front of the registrar, but when he remembered Julie's condition, cold dread quickly doused the fire within him. It was worse than what he felt when he and Carly ended their marriage. Odd.

  His marriage with Julie would be her first and his second. And like the first, this one wouldn't last.

  One month. Julie's condition was they would stay wed only for thirty days. After that, they'd part ways. And I get got the job of filing for a divorce. Damn, why couldn't she do it

  He turned left on the first landing and walked the long hallway. He stopped at the third door on the right. The blue room. His room for the duration of his stay. True to its name, the room was blue. The comforter, curtains, rugs, and pillows were all blue in color. He wouldn't be surprised if he found all the washcloths and towels were in blue. Hmm... Maybe the toilet paper, too. He quickly discarded the last thought.

  Tristan dropped his duffel bag on the desk, took out his change of clothes and started undressing. It didn't take him any time to do it. He needed a cold shower, pronto. Taking his things up to his room was a made-up excuse. He needed a few moments of time away from Julie. The whole time they were walking at the beach, his mind was focused on stripping her naked and driving into her, hard and fast. It was as though he was possessed with a lust spirit. If there was such a thing.

  He had been attracted to Julie for quite some time now and hid his feelings from everyone, especially his family. They would have te
ased him mercilessly if they knew. His parents liked and treated her as their own daughter. His brothers enjoyed her company, too. She was witty, beautiful, and smart. And they all agreed with one thing—Julie was a kind, tenderhearted person—so tender that she would cry at the story that had happened a long time ago of a boy who rescue a total stranger.

  It was one of those scary nights. He was at another wing of Swedish hospital doing his rounds when he received a message in his pager. Apparently, his sister was in the emergency room. Receiving emergency calls was a constant thing if you were a doctor. It was part of working in a hospital—no sweat. However, it was different when the call was about a family member. Edmund, who happened to be on duty that night, met him in the hallway and assured him that Kirsten was okay. The danger had already passed.

  When he finally made it to Kirsten's room, he found the woman Edmund mentioned holding Kirsten's hand. The one who saved his sister's life because she didn't hesitate to plunge the syringe in his sister's thigh to help her breathe. Julie

  Both Kirsten and Julie were asleep. He remembered waking her up. When she did, she all but ignored him. Instead, she looked at Kirsten and then he saw it. Tears.

  Julie was crying for his sister, a woman she hardly knew. How someone could care for a total stranger was beyond him.

  Since then, he felt an instant admiration for her. The feeling turned into an attraction when Kirsten brought her to their house to stay for a weekend. Without telling anyone, Kirsten traced Julie and thanked her in person. The two hit it off and became friends.

  Now, here he was. Because of Kirsten's forgetfulness to check the food labels for peanuts, he'd been walking all day with an erection. He wasn't sure if he should thank his sister for his discomfort or not.

  Tristan stood underneath the cold shower. An effort to freeze his brain and forget about Julie's pink tongue, pink nipples, pink...Fuck! He smacked his hand flat on the tiled wall. Even with a cold shower raining on his back like pellets, his blood still pounded in his groin with the mere thought of Julie. He turned the shower to full blast and faced the spray.