Lancelot's Lady

by Cherish D'Angelo

  Misty sulked in the corner of the kitchen, arms folded across her middle, eyes burning a hole into the ceramic tile.

  Rhianna frowned. "Then we need to make sure everyone starts understanding her." She raised her eyes to Mrs. Atkinson's. "That goes for you too."

  The housekeeper smiled warily. "The last teacher said I was too old to learn. You know, you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

  "One of my patients was eighty-seven years old when she learned ASL," Rhianna said. "You're a spring chicken compared to her."

  "Well, I don't know about that," Mrs. Atkinson said with a giggle. "But I'll try to learn if you're willing to teach me. I did pick up a few signs." She demonstrated a dozen or so signs with only a bit of hesitation.

  "Sit down," Rhianna signed to Misty. Surprisingly, the girl obeyed.

  "How about we spend one hour every afternoon teaching Mrs. Atkinson some sign language too?"

  The scowl on Misty's face lifted. "My Daddy too?"

  Rhianna swallowed hard. "I, uh…"

  "Of course I'll learn too," a masculine voice said.

  Rhianna studied Jonathan, who was dressed in ripped shorts and a faded t-shirt. At least he looked cleaner than the last time she'd seen him.

  But he wore less in your dream.

  ~ * ~

  A nightmare had kept Jonathan from a restful sleep. He'd spent the long night chasing an illusive Rhianna deep into the jungle, where predators lay in wait. He had to catch her, because behind him something ancient and evil stalked them. When he'd awoken, he was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration and his heart pounded in his chest. He'd bolted from the bed and paced the room.

  Something was coming. And it wasn't good.

  He muffled a derisive snort. You idiot. Nothing bad is gonna happen.

  He glanced at his daughter. The little traitor was sitting beside her teacher, all grins and giggles.

  "Does two o'clock work for everyone?" Rhianna asked, without looking at him.

  "Works for me," he replied.

  "Me too," Mrs. Atkinson said. "This will be quality family time."

  Jonathan frowned at her. What was the woman up to?

  "Sit down, Mr. Tyler," Mrs. Atkinson ordered.

  He slumped into the chair across from Misty. "I'll take my coffee black today, Mrs. Atkinson."

  The housekeeper raised her brows in surprise. "No cream?"

  "No. Just keep my mug filled."

  "You're supposed to be working, Daddy," Misty signed.

  "I wanted to make sure you and Ms. McLeod were settled into school first," he signed self-consciously. "How are you this morning, Angel?"

  Misty giggled. "I'm not an angel."

  "Then you must be a…" He flicked a look at Rhianna. "How do I sign fairy or princess?"

  Rhianna showed him and he mimicked the moves, much to Misty's delight.

  "I'm a fairy princess," Misty signed to Mrs. Atkinson.

  "That you are, dear love. That you are."

  Jonathan settled back in his chair and took in the strange scene. They rarely ever ate together like this. He was usually locked in his studio by now. Misty would visit after lunch and he'd often miss supper.

  It was kind of…nice.

  He watched Rhianna. She was good with his daughter. Patient, kind, caring. He saw her wipe a smudge of orange juice from the corner of Misty's mouth. It was such a natural act, yet it annoyed him. Sirena should be sitting there, looking after their daughter. Not some stranger.

  Jonathan pointed to a small stack of books he'd set on the counter when he'd arrived. "Those are the books that the last teacher used, Ms. McLeod. You can use this table once Mrs. Atkinson has cleaned up, and if you feel you need anything else, let me know the night before."

  "That's fine."

  That she barely looked at him irked him to no end.

  ~ * ~

  For a long moment, Rhianna couldn't look at Jonathan. She still felt mortified from being caught nearly naked in the pool, although she'd gotten him back for sneaking up on her and nearly scaring her out of her skin. There was a sense of justification in her actions. So she'd yanked him down into the mud. So what?

  She studied him now from beneath her lashes. A willful wave of hair fell across his ruggedly handsome face, and his tanned skin set off the brilliant blue eyes. She could see his pulse beating steady and strong at the base of his throat.

  His hands cradled the mug and she noticed that his fingers were long, tanned and very tense. She remembered how they felt across her mouth, soft yet firm. Her body tingled at the thought of his hands caressing her skin. What would it be like to have those hands touch her in other places?

  "Rhianna?"

  She realized he'd asked her something. Her cheeks burned and she lowered her head. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

  "I said you look well this morning. No chills, I take it?"

  He was laughing at her. She could hear it in his voice.

  As Jonathan left the room, she stared after him.

  Thank God he isn't the type to take revenge.

  ~ * ~

  Jonathan was thinking of revenge, but his was of a much sweeter kind. He'd waited this morning, specifically putting off going to work just so he could see Rhianna. He couldn't help but notice how the sheer peach blouse glowed against her skin, or how the navy pants outlined her long legs. She looked radiant and fresh.

  And completely unsuspecting.

  The kind of revenge he had in mind was personal in nature. He didn't even stop to consider why he felt it necessary. Sure, she'd frustrated him enough that he'd chased her into the night. He could have shrugged that off. But when he saw her lying in the pool, his breath had nearly stopped. Later, she'd embarrassed him, caught him off guard. Now his pride egged him on.

  The plan had brewed all morning. He'd find a secluded corner where he could be alone with the troublesome Ms. McLeod. Then he'd make her pay for giving him that mud bath.

  Her hair would look much better down, he decided.

  He imagined how silky it would feel and how beautiful she would look with soft waves tumbling about her shoulders. She'd be at his mercy and he'd take what he wanted. It would be enough to put Rhianna in her place and show her she couldn't mess with him and escape unscathed.

  And what did he want from her exactly?

  One simple kiss.

  Then he'd be done with her.

  As he strode across the backyard, he grinned. Yes, his revenge would be very sweet indeed. Best of all, Miss City Girl wouldn't even see it coming.

  ~ * ~

  The morning passed quickly for Rhianna. She went through sign language basics with Misty to get a feel for where the girl stood academically. Jonathan's daughter was very bright, especially when it came to learning signs for objects in her environment, a method Rhianna had used with Mrs. Fletcher.

  "It's important to learn the signs for things around you," Rhianna told Misty at lunch. "Later, you can teach these to your dad and Mrs. Atkinson."

  It was nearing one o'clock when Misty yawned and signed, "I'm tired. I want a nap."

  "Of course," Rhianna said. "I'll wake you up at two."

  Misty headed for the stairs. On the first step, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Will you tuck me in?"

  "Sure."

  Ten minutes later, Rhianna skipped down the stairs, feeling very pleased with Misty's progress. But her happiness diminished the second she saw Jonathan waiting in the dining room.

  "It's not two yet," she said.

  "I know. I can tell time."

  "Of course you can."

  "Is Misty having a nap?"

  "I just put her down." She smiled. "She did great at ASL today. She knows more than anyone realized and she catches on fast. I think she'll be caught up in a week or two."

  She was rambling, but his unwavering stare made her uneasy.

  "Why are you back so early?" she asked.

  "I forgot something."

  "Oh."

  Jonath
an moved toward her. "I was trying to think of something appropriate."

  "For what?" she asked, backing up against a wall.

  His lips curved into an innocent smile. "It's payback time."

  "Payback?" she squeaked.

  In answer, he leaned forward and pulled the clamp from her hair. "Your hair looks better down."

  Rhianna was stunned into silence. She couldn't have spoken even if she'd wanted to. She was too wrapped up in conflicting emotions―excitement and fear.

  Jonathan mussed up her hair. "Now you look like you did the first time I saw you."

  With her cheeks aflame and her nerve endings firing on all circuits, even his breath against her hair made Rhianna quiver. She reached up to stop him from playing havoc with her hair. And her mind.

  When their hands met, a sudden shock jolted through her body. Then their eyes locked. She saw turmoil in his.

  Without warning, Jonathan grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He eyed her, his mouth curved in a lazy smile.

  "Let…me…go," she said between clenched teeth.

  "Not yet."

  "Let me go, Jonathan."

  "Not until I get what I want. Last night you called me an animal." Lips brushed her ear. "You haven't seen the animal in me until now."

  She couldn't breathe.

  His burning gaze traveled the length of her body. His eyes heatedly took in her tousled appearance―her flushed face and trembling lips. He held her captive hands above her head, causing her breasts to strain against the sheer fabric of her blouse.

  Jonathan lowered her arms and moved closer. His hard chest rubbed against her blouse and the friction made her gasp.

  What is he doing to me?

  Jonathan leaned forward, exchanging his breath for hers. She should resist him, push him away or at least tell him to stop. But she couldn't move.

  "Just remember, city-girl, it's dangerous to tease a wild animal."

  When his mouth made contact with hers, she pulled back. "Don't."

  He ignored her. His lips touched hers, moving more urgently, coaxing her submission. Heat raced through her blood and her pulse quickened as his tongue sought refuge, sweeping and drawing something primal from her.

  Lust, she told herself.

  Her eyes drifted shut, her treacherous body responding against her will. An intense hunger for something more―something she couldn't name―overwhelmed her. Even though her head told her to fight, her heart told her to give in to this new pleasure.

  Jonathan's breaths were coming quick, his mouth growing more demanding. Her body was aflame with desires she'd never felt before. She couldn't fight the feelings he drew from her.

  So she closed her eyes and gave in.

  His hot mouth skimmed her neck and moved lower.

  "Rhianna…"

  She shivered. "What?"

  "I never thought revenge would taste so good," he murmured.

  She froze. Of course! He warned me.

  "Stop it!" She ducked under his arm. "Just because this is your island doesn't mean you can manhandle me."

  "I wouldn't call that manhandling," he said dryly.

  Flustered, she crossed her arms over her chest. "This is your idea of revenge?"

  "Don't tell me you weren't enjoying it." He shrugged. "Anyway, it was only a kiss."

  Rhianna gaped at him. Only a kiss?

  She couldn't get to her bedroom fast enough. Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it. She touched her lips, recalling his kiss.

  He was right. She had liked it.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Rhianna hid in her bedroom. With her senses on high alert, she listened for footsteps or sounds that Misty was awake.

  She tried to ignore the truth. Jonathan had kissed her and she'd liked it. It was so different from the kisses in her past, the dirty ones.

  A wave of ugly memories assaulted her. Peter Waverley's angry face, his hands touching where he shouldn't, the pressure, the invasion…the blood. He had abused her in every way, and even after she'd left them, she was haunted by what he'd done to her, what he'd taken from her.

  This unwanted initiation had caused her to spurn advances from handsome, young interns while she attended nursing college. And the few times she'd gone on dates, their groping hands and sloppy kisses had made her push them away.

  Disgust. That's all she'd felt back then.

  She sighed. What's changed?

  "I wanted him to kiss me."

  She still did.

  This realization was beyond comprehension, as was the fact that her body yearned for much more than a kiss.

  Downstairs, a door closed.

  Rhianna strode to the window just in time to see Jonathan crossing the lawn, his hands tucked in the pockets of his shorts. As he approached the ridge of bushes, he paused and turned toward the house.

  Mortified, she froze. Could he see her?

  Jonathan raised a hand.

  "Of all the―" She ducked from view and groaned. "Great, Rhianna. Now he's going to think you're interested."

  She flopped on her stomach across the bed.

  "I am not interested in Jonathan Tyler." I'm not!

  The lie made her shiver.

  Her eyes wandered to the photo on the nightstand. Higginson had taken the picture on one of JT's good days, shortly after Rhianna's birthday party. Full of life and healthy color, JT grinned in the photo. He had one arm thrown over Rhianna's shoulder, while she beamed back at him.

  Life was far less complicated back in Miami.

  Rhianna picked up the photo. "You're the only man who's ever loved me, JT."

  A surge of homesickness hit her. All of a sudden she wanted nothing more than to go home. Back to JT's mansion. Back to her familiar life, the one that held no demands or expectations other than her nursing skills.

  Where I know the rules.

  She missed everything, even JT's grouchy moods.

  "You must be worried sick," she said to the photo.

  That concern would only increase as each day passed without a phone call from Rhianna.

  Her eyes watered. "No crying."

  The old man's kindness and fatherly love had done more for Rhianna than two years of counseling. There was no doubt in her mind that he only wanted the best for her.

  What would he think of this situation?

  She kissed the photo. "I miss you, JT."

  Please be okay.

  Chapter 12

  When the phone rang, JT was tempted to ignore it. But he couldn't. What if it was Rhianna?

  It wasn't.

  "Mr. Lance," a man said cheerfully.

  JT scrunched his face. He knew that voice. Didn't he?

  It took a long moment before things slipped into place.

  "What do you want, Chambers?"

  "We have some business to discuss."

  JT swirled the brandy in the glass and stared at the amber liquid. "We've already concluded our business. And you've been paid quite handsomely, may I add."

  He'd paid Winston Chambers fifty thousand dollars.

  "Well, there's the problem," Chambers said. "We have differing opinions as to what constitutes a handsome payment."

  JT heard the flick of a lighter.

  "I have no more work for you," he said.

  Chambers chuckled. "I don't want more work. I just figure that since you went to all the trouble to find the girl that you'll be open to…a bonus."

  JT heard Chambers inhale deeply. The man was probably puffing on one of his obnoxious smelling cigars.

  "What kind of bonus are you thinking, Chambers?"

  "Two hundred and fifty thousand should suffice."

  "How much?"

  "You heard me."

  "This is blackmail!"

  "I know what it is, Mr. Lance. You're a rich man. What I'm asking for will barely make a dent in your bank account."

  JT downed the brandy and slammed the empty glass on the table. "No!"

  There was s
ilence on the other end.

  "Did you hear me?" JT yelled. "I won't cave in to blackmail."

  "Then you'll be very, very sorry."

  "What can you do?" He tried to laugh.

  "I can tell her."

  JT's breath stopped for a moment. "What do you mean?"

  "You know what I mean. I'll tell her everything. How you made me search for her all these years. How you followed her every move."

  "So tell her," JT said with a shrug. "It's not that big a deal."

  Laughter sounded on the other end. JT wanted to slam down the phone.

  "She'll want to know how you got her name," Chambers said.

  That's where JT had him. He hadn't given the private investigator all the details. Just her name, thank God.

  His head began to throb.

  "I came across her name when I was researching homecare," he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

  "Liar."

  JT rubbed his eyes. Everything was blurry.

  "Listen, you bastard," he snapped. "I'm not paying you a cent more than I already have."

  "That's where you're wrong, Mr. Lance. In fact, the price just doubled."

  "What? Are you out of your mind?"

  "Five hundred thousand dollars. In my account by midnight tomorrow."

  JT's heart pounded out an unsteady beat. "Or what?"

  "Or I tell your precious Rhianna everything."

  As Chambers revealed what he knew, JT massaged his aching head. The pain was excruciating. But if Rhianna ever found out about the secret he'd kept all these years, his pain would be far worse.

  "The money will be there," he said, broken. "But you have to promise me you'll take it and disappear."

  "You have my word," Chambers said.

  JT hung up the phone. He stared at it, afraid it would ring again and bring him more trouble. Finally, he tried to stand. His legs wobbled. Then an explosion of bright light assaulted him and everything went black.

  Before he passed out, he had one last thought.

  If Rhianna discovers the truth, she'll never forgive me.

  When JT awoke, he was back in bed. He surveyed the room through hazy eyes. Curtains drawn, water jug beside the bed, door closed leaving the room in shadows.

  Something moved in the corner.

  JT blinked twice and his vision cleared.