by Raye Morgan
CHAPTER FOUR
JANIS’S pivot wasn’t graceful but at least she didn’t fall on her face, shaky as she was. He couldn’t have been clearer. He wanted her gone. She headed back into the room and reached for her satchel. This time she really would go. If he wanted to risk ruining his life, she wasn’t going to try to stop him.
She stopped and looked around the room, making sure she wasn’t leaving anything. She was angry and feeling wounded. She’d only been trying to help. She’d had enough.
Where would she go? She wasn’t sure. It was getting pretty late. This was a nice neighborhood. Maybe there was a hotel nearby. Maybe. If not, she would wander around until she got her bearings. She only hoped she wouldn’t have to end up sleeping under a bridge in the cold.
One last glance back over her shoulder and she was stepping out the door. And that was the moment she heard his gasp of pain.
She was back in the room in a flash. He was leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes closed.
“Oh, no, oh, no,” she whispered like a prayer as she rushed to help him. He’d managed to put on pajama bottoms, but his chest was still bare. She quickly slipped under his shoulder and became a crutch for him.
“What happened?” she asked.
His mouth twisted into something resembling a sort of grin, but he shook his head. “I’m just too damn weak to support myself once the pain starts shooting through me,” he muttered, sounding resentful.
“Lean on me,” she told him firmly. “Come on. I’ll get you back into bed.”
He felt like heaven, even this way—all hard muscle and slick skin. She turned her face toward him and took in his familiar smell and then wished she hadn’t. Emotion came surging up her throat. She’d missed him so.
She hardened her heart and forced herself to hold him steady as they made their way across the floor. And then she had him at the edge of the bed and he groaned as he slid down onto the covers.
For just a moment, she caught a glimpse of his back, at the horrible red scarring, and her heart lurched. Horror shivered through her and then she steadied herself and thought of basics instead of pain.
Where was his brace? He should be in it. And surely he’d had bandages on the wounds when he’d been brought in here. He must have taken them off when he went into the shower. Should he have done that? She highly doubted it. But there wasn’t much she could do about it right now. He’d been very clear. This was his game. Carefully, she pulled the sheets from under him and then pulled them over and tucked him in, looking down at him anxiously.
He was looking up at her. He didn’t smile, but there was something going on behind his crystal gaze.
“Okay,” he said roughly. “Just let me rest a minute.”
She nodded, thankful he seemed to be tired but largely okay. She resisted the impulse to tell him to wiggle his toes and prove nothing had touched his spinal cord at this point. Making a quick trip back into the bathroom, she saw where he’d thrown away the old bandaging. She opened the cabinet and grabbed a round of tape and a package of fresh gauze pads, snagged the brace and took it all back out into the bedroom.
His eyes were open and he looked alert, but he shook his head when he saw what she had.
“I want to let air get to it,” he told her.
She hesitated, not sure that was a good idea, but she couldn’t argue with him, could she? With a sigh, she put her supplies down and sank onto the couch.
“You always have to do it your way, don’t you?” she grumbled.
He was feeling better by the minute and he managed a lopsided smile. “Is it that obvious?” he asked. “I’d almost think you knew me well.”
That was putting it mildly. It was very strange to realize that he didn’t remember anything about the last two years, and especially that he didn’t have any of the past they’d shared in his system. They hadn’t been together long, but it had certainly changed her life. To think any changes he’d gone through were lost, or reversed, or whatever had happened to them, was unsettling to say the least. She didn’t like it. It just might be that when he remembered, he would hate her again. But that would be better than not remembering and being untouched by all they had gone through together.
The way he was watching her, his head back, his eyes half-closed, she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. The seconds stretched out longer and longer. He didn’t speak, but he kept looking at her. She bit her lip, nervous but ready to deal with whatever he was getting ready to throw at her. Somehow she knew it was coming.
But when he finally spoke, his question was awkward for her, but rather ordinary in its way.
“Are you married?” he asked at last.
Her heart lurched, but she managed to hide it. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, I am. But we’re pretty much separated right now.”
“I see.” He nodded slowly. “The war.”
“Yes. The war.” She almost laughed aloud. “Blame it on the war.” Why not? The war had been the supposed reason behind everything in their relationship so far.
He frowned. “I was in the war. So they tell me. I don’t remember.” He twitched as though he wasn’t really comfortable. “They say I did some good things, but I guess I’ll never know for sure.”
“Well, of course,” she said with a smile that quickly turned bittersweet.
Something told her that he knew, without having to be told, that he’d been brave and honorable. It was the essence of who he was. And it was also why they were so badly matched. The ache in the bottom of her heart seemed to throb more painfully than ever. You could change your mind, you could change your behavior, but you couldn’t change your bloodline.
“When do you go home?” he asked.
“I was just leaving when you collapsed,” she said defensively. “I’ll go. Don’t worry.”
He frowned at her, seeming furious all of a sudden. “Why would you go?” he demanded. “Isn’t it your job to stay here with me?”
“Not when you kick me out like you did.”
“Kick you out?” He obviously thought she was making things up. “I would never kick you out. I need you. Has anyone made up a room for you?”
“No.” She looked at him, exasperated and confused. “Actually, I haven’t told anyone I need one yet. I thought…”
He moved impatiently. “Get Boswell in here. He’ll make sure you have good accommodations. I’m surprised he didn’t take it upon himself to do it already.”
She stared at him blankly. “Boswell?”
“Our butler.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I thought his name was Griswold.”
“Oh.” He grimaced as though he’d just remembered something best left to the shadows. “That’s right. Kylos replaced the entire staff for some ungodly reason.” He frowned fiercely at her. “Do you know why he did that?”
“Uh…no.”
“Neither do I.” He sighed, looking restless. “Poor old Boswell. I wonder what’s happened to him? He was here from the time I was a toddler. Practically part of the family.”
“Well, now you’ve got Griswold. But he went home at nine o’clock.”
He stared at her, nonplussed. “Went home! What the hell’s a butler doing going home? Doesn’t he live here, in the house?”
She threw up her hands and laughed at him. “I don’t know. He’s your butler.”
The situation seemed to bother him. “Boswell wouldn’t have left his post,” he muttered to himself.
She nodded, sure that was true. But then, she’d never had a butler. The thought made her want to giggle. She only hoped it wasn’t plain old hysteria threatening.
Because this entire situation was strangely weird and getting weirder. She certainly felt tugged in two directions. She had a deep underlying feeli
ng she ought to have kept going once she was on her way out a few minutes before. And at the same time, she wanted to stay. She wanted to make sure he was okay. Not only was she worried about his condition, but there was also something about his brother that didn’t sit well with her.
Or was she rationalizing again?
“Hey,” she said as she noticed he was sitting up and beginning to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “What are you doing now?”
He stopped, eyeing her with a certain cool moodiness. “I’m doing whatever I feel like doing. And right now, I’ve got a yen to see my old house.”
“You mean, this one?”
He nodded. “If I’ve got another, I don’t remember it.” He gazed at her levelly. “I’m counting on you to be my crutches. To catch me when I fall. Okay?”
She was tempted to argue with him but she knew it would do no good. “Sure,” she said wryly. “I’m adjustable. That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
“Don’t go expecting diamonds and pearls from me,” he said, teasing. His grin was lopsided. “But play your cards right and if this royal thing comes through, I might be able to buy you an iced latte one of these days.”
“I’m excited,” she said, a trace of sarcasm showing. But she was smiling as she rose to help him up. He leaned on her lightly with one hand on her shoulder and they walked slowly out onto the beautifully finished maple floors on into the foyer with its marble inlays. She took the time to look around and appreciate how much care someone had taken in making this home a beautiful showplace. The fact that the décor was about fifty years out-of-date didn’t matter. The warmth and character of the home shone through.
He took her through the study and into the library, where the walls were filled with floor-to-ceiling, glass-enclosed bookcases full of books. They strolled through the kitchen and she realized it had only been the butler’s pantry she’d visited before. The central kitchen was huge with large ovens of all kinds and a refrigerator that took up one wall.
“We used to have huge parties,” he told her. “And people staying for the weekend. There was always something going on. But that was before…” His voice seemed to trail off.
“Before?” she asked, but he ignored her and went on, pointing out the herb garden from the kitchen window.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “You can see almost the whole estate laid out in front of you from my old room.”
She thought she’d caught signs already that he was flagging a bit. “Mykal, do you think you should?”
“Sure I should.” He grinned at her. “We’ll take the elevator.”
“You have an elevator in your house?”
“Sure. My father got very weak after…after some financial reverses and this house has three levels.”
The elevator swayed a bit, but it got them there.
“Here’s my bedroom,” he said, leading her in and pointing out the bay window. “I used to sit on this window seat and stare out for hours.”
She could see why. Night had fallen but the place was littered with solar lamps that flickered from the trees and from the side of walkways. It seemed to be an enchanted garden. But she was more interested in looking at the artifacts of his boyhood that filled the shelves, books and trains and bats and soccer balls.
“Your parents left a lot of your things here, almost on display. You know what that means, don’t you?” She looked at him teasingly.
He shrugged. “That they were too lazy to throw it all out?”
“No. That they loved you so much they wanted to hang on to everything that reminded them of you.”
He smiled as though what she’d said had touched him, just a little. “Yeah. My mom likes me.”
She looked at him and thought, Who wouldn’t? He was such a charmer. Her eyes met his and she realized he was still thinking about what she’d said. Was he missing his parents? How sad. Funny that he’d never told her about them at all.
“How could they have left this beautiful house?” she asked him.
“You should have seen it when I was a kid. The estate was twice this big and the condition was ten times better. Financial reverses did my father in about fifteen years ago.”
That made her curious. “Where did they go?” she asked. “To the continent?”
“No.” He flashed her a quick look. “Believe it or not, they went to Florida and bought a condominium and have been quite happy ever since. I don’t think they’ll ever come back.” His eyebrows knit together and he looked at her as though he found that hard to believe.
She nodded, suppressing the trace of a grin. “Some people like sunshine on the water.”
“As opposed to fog and rain clouds?” His smile was quick and humorless as he described the usual weather in Ambria to a T. “I suppose.”
They were standing very close and he turned, putting his hand on her shoulder for a moment, as though to balance himself. Then his face changed and he moved closer, leaning in, spreading his fingers over the small of her back.
“You did say you were married, right?” he asked, his voice low and musical.
“Yes.” She looked away. “Technically, I’m married.”
He touched her chin with his finger. “No hope of getting back together?”
She met his crystal gaze and shook her head. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Good.” He pushed her hair back behind her ear. “Because I want to kiss your neck.”
“What?” She reacted, but she didn’t really pull away. How could she when every nerve in her body was reacting as though violins were playing?
“Don’t move, now,” he said in a soft, half-teasing voice. “I’m a sick man, you know. I must be humored.”
“That’s outrageous.” But she was laughing low in her throat. “And it’s cheating, too.”
“I’ll have to plead guilty to that.” His breath was warm on her skin. “But something about you makes me crazy. I can’t stay away.”
His face was nuzzling her neck by now, and then she felt his tongue, sending shivers all through her system.
“Mykal,” she said, and her voice almost sounded like a whimper. She turned her face and he brushed his cheek against hers. And then he’d pulled back, as though nothing had ever happened.
The look in his eyes as he cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand was heavy with a sensual vibe that made her blood feel like maple syrup. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” he said simply.
Shock slashed through her like a lightning bolt and her eyes went very wide. How could he tell? No one knew. She hadn’t told a soul and she was still so thin from the prison camp ordeal.
“I…uh…no…” she stammered.
“Don’t worry. I can keep a secret.” His wide mouth twisted in a half smile. “But I thought I could tell when you were helping me to the bed. I could sense it.” He looked at her with a sense of regret. “I hope it’s true. You should be very happy.”
She glanced away, but her throat was choked and there was no way she could force out any words. How on earth could he tell? She’d been sure it would be weeks before anyone would see it. Did he remember…? But no, there was nothing to remember. He’d never known. She hadn’t even known until she was in the prison camp.
Was it because he was the father? Did he have some special, magical sense of his own child? It seemed impossible. And yet…
He led her to a guest room and showed her the view along the other side, one that was partly lit with electric lights. She followed him willingly. It was almost as though he’d hypnotized her now.
“Take a look out here. There’s the duck pond. Too bad it doesn’t look like anyone’s maintained it for a long time.”
He didn’t answer for a moment and she realized that he was too emotional to speak at first. Then he cleared his throat and said, “That was my mother’s Victorian tea house. She loved having her friends over for high tea. They would sit on the little porch and watch the ducks and eat their watercress sandwiches and sip their Darjeeling. Nothing made her happier.”
She hesitated to ask when he was so affected by it, but her curiosity was running wild. “What happened to it?”
He took a deep breath. “Long story. Bottom line, enemies of my father burned it down.”
How awful. “What? Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“There are bad people in this world, Janis.” He touched her cheek again, but playfully this time. “Stay away from them if you can.”
“I try to. Were your parents hurt?”
He looked at her in surprise, then smiled. “This happened years ago. My father left it that way as a reminder.”
“I see.” Though she didn’t, not really.
He stood brooding over the view for a few more minutes, and she waited, not wanting to break into his reverie.
“Okay, here’s what happened,” he said at last, as though he just couldn’t hold it in any longer. He reached out to use her shoulder, leaning on her as though his legs were getting tired. “Well, my father made some bad decisions. Kylos got into some trouble. He was always getting into trouble, but this time it was really bad. My father needed money fast, but times were tight, and he couldn’t find anyone who could lend him that much. So in the end, he had to turn to the mob.”
At the sound of that three-letter word, disbelief filled her. This couldn’t be happening. She’d never heard a whisper of it. Her heart turned to stone and something deep inside her began to pray. Please, please, please, don’t let it be the Gorgonios.
“It was a lot of money and he couldn’t pay it back. He went into hiding for a long time. My poor, tiny little mother had to fend for herself.” Anger began to boil up in him. “The police could keep the mob from hurting her, but they couldn’t keep them from ruining her financially. She was just barely able to hold on to the house. But in the meantime, they did burn down my mother’s tea house, just to make sure we knew they were serious.”