Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1

by Tamara Morgan

  She started to take a tentative step backward, but Julian interrupted before she even got her foot off the ground. “You stay put.”

  Adrenaline surged through her at the domineering command in his voice, causing her hands to shake and her stomach to heave. Sure, Julian had been right about her from day one. All her life, she’d carried with her an image of what her ideal suitor looked like, and Duke’s fancy car and expensive dinner had fit the picture to perfection. She’d let herself get blinded by the glitz of it all, by the way he fit into her ordered little boxes. It was her mistake letting him into her life in the first place, and she was willing to own it.

  But she didn’t deserve the tail end of Julian’s wrath before she even got a chance to explain. He was supposed to be on her side now. They were allies. They were lovers. They were friends.

  “Were you eavesdropping on us?” Kate demanded, her hands moving to her hips and her spine straightening.

  Julian shot her a look of pure irritation. “It’s not eavesdropping if I actually uncover a plot.”

  “A plot? What are you talking about?”

  “Me, Kate. I’m talking about me and my entire life. What you and Kilroy have done matters.” He turned to Duke, his voice low, his body tense as he took a predatory step forward. “I can’t believe I was so stupid to think for a second that you’d backed off. That you might let us fight this out honorably.”

  “I can believe it,” Duke replied suavely. “I only had to dangle something pretty in front of your face, and you lost track of everything else. Like a baby. Or a woman.”

  Kate sucked in a breath. If Julian didn’t hit him, she might take on the task herself.

  “Neither one of you gets to make the rules anymore,” Julian said, his voice and body taut. “I’m done with the lying and the manipulating. From here on out, it’s my way or—”

  “Kate! Julian! Where have you two been? The game is about to begin.” Stuart came at them from the side. Clearly oblivious to the tension that held them all in check, he grabbed Kate by the arm to lead her toward the main area of the fairgrounds.

  “Give us a minute, Stuart.” The command in Julian’s voice was unmistakable, but it had no power over the smaller man. Stuart cast a benign gaze over the two Scottish athletes and chuckled.

  “Clear the nonsense up later, will you? There’s someone here from the Historical Times magazine hoping to do a feature piece on our little battle and the Highland Games. They heard about us on a national news spotlight. This is incredible.”

  “Historical Times?” Kate asked, looking around, bewildered. “That’s great, but—”

  “No, no,” Stuart interrupted, gesticulating wildly at Julian until he had no choice but to follow. “No buts. Just look natural. And smile.”

  Kate could do neither of those things. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duke flash a triumphant grin and move off in the direction of the parking lot. Julian’s look was anything but pleased, but they’d come within sight and sound of the crowd, and there was nothing more he could say. The imposed silence didn’t seem to please him at all.

  This time around, Julian was an intimidating foe on the board. He wasn’t angry in the same way she’d seen him before, when emotion and fury made him swell with something almost like pride. This was different. His face was shadowed, and it went deep enough that it made him look mean.

  Even Jada noticed it. “Geez, woman,” she said wonderingly. “What did you say to wind Papa Bear up so much?”

  Kate ignored her, her heart thumping heavily as Julian called out the first move. It was the exact one they’d plotted the day before, when losing had seemed like such an easy sacrifice for her to make. She hesitated. It wasn’t easy now. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain.

  So she called out her move. “King’s rook forward three. Check.”

  The crowd applauded her choice, which was a good one even to the eyes of those not familiar with the logic of the game. In fact, the only person who seemed at all surprised or upset by the move was Julian. It wasn’t in the plan.

  But then, Kate was learning that the best-laid plans were sometimes more dangerous than walking into a crowded street, eyes, ears and heart closed.

  Julian hid his flicker of emotion and moved himself forward one space. It was the only move he could make, even though it brought him the one way he obviously didn’t want to go—closer to Kate. She maneuvered to the side.

  “Was this all part of your plan too?” Julian asked in a low voice. “Abject humiliation on the battlefield?”

  “Are you going to let me explain?” she hissed back.

  “You’ve done nothing but make excuses since I met you.”

  “And you haven’t listened to a single one,” Kate shot back. “I’m sorry about the snakes, Julian, but I didn’t do that—and I didn’t tell Jada. She guessed it, and if I’d known for even a second what she was going to do, I would have stopped her.”

  He moved another piece closer to them both. The piece very kindly pretended to ignore their argument, which they both struggled to keep in the undertones of the game.

  But it seemed reminding Julian of that particular weakness wasn’t a very smart move. He flushed darkly and scowled. “Excuses and distractions. At least tell me this—did you know what Kilroy was up to?”

  She softened. “No, Julian. He used me as much as he used you. I had no idea.”

  His glance was sharp, and he looked closely at her eyes as though trying to read them as he might a piece of particularly complicated text. He gave no indication of what he was searching for—or if he’d found it. But she hoped he had, because it was all she had to give.

  “King backward one,” Kate announced, bowing slightly as she stepped away. There. The pieces were arranged in such a way that he was in complete control. One move and he could have her in checkmate. Another and Kate had only to make one step to do the same. She gave him the power. She gave him the choice.

  “I have a lot to apologize for, Julian, but so do you. This is just a game, and the Highland events are too, no matter what your stepfather might have told you when you were a little boy. And until you realize it, I’m not going to play anymore.”

  She wasn’t going to play. She wasn’t going to plead. And she most certainly wasn’t going to cry. If he wouldn’t even wait to hear her side of the story before tossing her away, once again showing her just how high she ranked on his ridiculous list of priorities, he deserved none of them.

  And so he ended it. With a face as reserved and immobile as the day she’d first met him, Julian took the victory she laid out for him. His move brought her to the ground by one of his bishops, who carried a broadsword and shouted “Off with her head!” with an enthusiasm neither she nor Julian seemed to share.

  Kate had to get on her knees and place her head down in order to grant him access to her neck to make the false beheading. Little pebbles on the board ground painfully into her shins, the position so much more humiliating than she’d imagined. She couldn’t see anything but her own legs or hear anything more than the triumphant cry of a crowd being given a great show. She was wholly at the mercy of her captor—and of Julian. Both of them were trying to cut off the parts of her that mattered the most. Her head and her heart. And she was on her knees, letting them.

  She’d been a fool to think she could change him. Julian Wallace cared only about getting his stupid way, and the second he thought she was going to prevent him, she no longer mattered. He was no different than the first day they met. And she, crashing down from the heights of her own folly, was no different either.

  By the time the bishop helped her back to her feet and promised to kill her any other time she might wish it, Julian was nowhere to be seen.

  “It seems we have a winner!” Stuart shouted from his place at one of the thrones at the head of the chess board. “In a masterful sweep of intellect we didn’t know they had, the Scottish barbarians have triumphed! Let it be recorded in the annals of history that the E
nglish bow to the northern might!”

  Kate nodded and smiled and said all of the things that were expected of her. She was good at things like that—the mechanical answers, the benign replies.

  It was, after all, what a real Austen heroine did when her world was falling apart.

  Chapter Twenty

  A Man’s Game

  Julian’s face stretched into a wide grin. It had been that way for an hour, and the strain of it was about to shatter him into a thousand little pieces.

  “I have to say, it’s very generous of your family to host so many of our people,” Bonnie Horton said, sipping a glass of lemonade. The Rockland Bluff Whisky representative looked over Kilroy warmly. “You’re sure it wouldn’t be easier to let us stay at the hotel?”

  They sat on the terrace at Kilroy Hall, looking over the formal gardens and watching as a hired crew did most of the work setting up the Games. They were the crew Julian had chosen, and they were setting up the tents, booths and platforms according to a plan he’d devised weeks before. But they were doing it at the wrong location, and they were taking orders from the wrong man.

  “Oh, no, Bonnie. We love having you here.” Kilroy returned her gaze with equal warmth. He’d angled his chair to exclude Julian from most of the conversation after Julian had barged in, unannounced and unexpected, in the middle of their little tête-à-tête. Kilroy was doing everything he could to gain the upper hand, even leaning over the table like he had secrets he was dying to unfurl to the efficient, blonde woman sitting on the other side. “Plus, this way you’re on hand to watch us work, and you can make any last-minute changes you think are called for.”

  Julian sat back in his chair and let the two of them talk. Since he hadn’t arrived until Bonnie and Kilroy were already the best of friends, and he was still largely uninformed about what, exactly, Kilroy had told her about their situation, it was all he could do. Listen and learn and wait. And pray he didn’t look a tenth as foolish as he felt.

  “That’s very generous of you.”

  Kilroy smoothed his hair and cast a disparaging look over Julian. “Bonnie, let me tell you this up front. I’m making it my personal mission to ensure Rockland Bluff gets the spotlight it deserves here. I’m not happy until you’re happy, and that’s the most important thing.”

  “Oh, we’re happy,” Bonnie said with a laugh. This time, she turned to Julian. “I have to hand it to you, Mr. Wallace, you had us worried for a while, but that battle-chess match you orchestrated with the Jane Austen people was a stroke of genius. Your little historical feud has been a big hit with the national news. We’ve already received several calls about it, and that’s before the Games have even started. It’s incredible exposure for all of us.”

  “The news should continue saying good things,” Julian offered. He gripped the drink in front of him and forced his smile even wider. “We won this morning.”

  No victory had ever felt worse. He’d taken no pleasure in watching Kate fall or in walking off before she had a chance to take tighter hold over the last of his emotions. But it was what he had to do.

  “You won?”

  Julian gave a curt nod.

  “I’m not sure I understand. I thought the winner got to take the original venue. If you won, why are you setting up here?” Bonnie looked between the two of them, a question in her eyes.

  Julian didn’t try to answer. This was Kilroy’s lie. Let him weave the sordid tale.

  “I’m afraid that’s my doing, Bonnie,” Kilroy said.

  Julian raised his glass in a one-sided toast. The truth. This would at least be interesting to hear.

  “Cornwall Park worked fine for the Games in previous years—just ask Julian. He’s a big advocate for the rough-and-tumble ways of the past. But that park has always been a little…rustic for my tastes. If we’re going to bring the Rockland Bluff name into it, we want to make sure it reflects your standards, not just our own. Class it up. You understand.”

  Oh, Julian understood. Kilroy wasn’t comparing his estate to the park. He was comparing himself to Julian. Sell Kilroy Hall, sell Rockland Bluff Whisky on putting the sponsorship in the Kilroy name. It wasn’t very subtle.

  “Is that so?” Bonnie asked Julian.

  He nodded. There wasn’t much else he could do at this point. Arguing would make him look petty and inefficient. And murder, he imagined, would be one of the many things that didn’t reflect well on the Rockland Bluff standards.

  “Whatever works for you boys works for me, I guess. Now, with your permission, I’d like to invite a few more reporters for the opening events, ones I’ve worked with in the past and trust to make a big splash. I’m not making a formal offer of sponsorship to either one of you at this time, you understand, but I’m sure we all know we can benefit from leveraging the media even more.”

  “That sounds great, Bonnie,” Kilroy oozed.

  “And the woman will be joining you, of course.”

  Julian set his glass down on the table so hard Bonnie almost jumped out of her seat.

  “The woman?” he asked.

  “Sure. The one from the Regency group—what was her name?”

  “It’s Kate,” Kilroy supplied, when it obvious Julian wasn’t going to. “Kate Simmons.”

  “Yes, that’s it. She doesn’t have to do anything, of course, and I don’t even think she needs to be here the whole time. But we want a few shots of her during the ceremonies, and maybe one of her and a few of the other English ladies watching you compete. To show there’s no hard feelings. That it was all in fun.”

  “But she has her own event this weekend,” Julian said. His voice sounded like an echo, as though it was being uttered from the end of a very long, empty tunnel.

  Bonnie waved her hand and stood from the table, dropping her napkin delicately to its surface. Kilroy and Julian rose at the same time, and she laughed with delight.

  “Such manners. You Scottish athletes are always so full of charm. I can’t wait until we get one of you on our team. Now, you will let me know what time Kate arrives tomorrow, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” Kilroy said. He took Bonnie’s hand and gave it a kiss, but Julian drew the line at such theatrics, even when she looked at him expectantly, awaiting his salute. He took her firmly by the hand and shook it instead.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you boys have it all under control.” With that, Bonnie walked away, leaving Julian alone with Kilroy.

  It was the moment he’d been waiting for. He’d planned on having a rational and intelligent conversation with Kilroy, starting with an uppercut to the jaw and followed by several jabs to the gut. But Kilroy had been anticipating such a move and hid himself behind the table. The coward.

  “So you’ll call her, right?” Kilroy asked. “Ensure she makes an appearance?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Wallace. I get it—you’re mad. I beat you at your own game and with an elegance of style you’ll never be able to duplicate. But if you blow this now, neither one of us has a chance at that endorsement.”

  Julian shrugged. He wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of a single glimmer of emotion. “Then neither one of us has a chance. There’s still a championship to win and a record to break. That’s enough for me.”

  “Is it?” Kilroy scoffed. “The way I see it, you’ve got nothing. The record is mine. This win is as good as mine. The sponsorship is well on its way to being in my hands. And Kate, well, a gentleman doesn’t like to brag, but…”

  Julian’s fist found its way into the table, the heavy teak splintering at the site of impact. “Don’t you dare say another word.”

  Kilroy tsked and waggled his finger in Julian’s nose. It was all Julian could do not to grab the digit and snap it in two. “I was merely going to thank you for making it so easy for me. She’s been delightful to have around.”

  “In that case, you call her.” Julian turned to leave. He wasn’t going to stand here and listen to any more of this.

 
; He could almost feel the foundation of everything he’d ever known and ever believed crumbling beneath his feet. It transformed walking and talking and even breathing into a challenge. He had to stay focused and keep moving, or he’d fall, just like the rest.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Kate—he did. Julian had too much history with Kilroy not to believe him capable of deep measures of manipulation that fooled them all. But the fact of the matter was Julian had let himself get lulled into a state in which he had no real control. He’d been distracted by Kate, by her belief that the Games were just that—games, and not what his entire life had been built upon.

  If he was being really honest, he’d go so far as to say he’d lost sight of who he was and where he came from, and Kate seemed to think that a fair sacrifice for him to make.

  That was the worst part of all.

  “Now, Wallace. Don’t be hasty—”

  “I mean it, Kilroy. I’m willing to let this whole underhanded theft of my event slide. And you know why? Because unlike you, I’m willing to put the SHS above my own ego. Hell, I’ll even share the Rockland Bluff sponsorship with you, since you’re willing to sink so low to try and get it. But I am not—I am not—going to call Kate. If you want her, then you get her.”

  Julian didn’t take the time to enjoy the way Kilroy’s eyes got wide and his nostrils flared, sure signs he’d finally gotten to the bastard.

  Although the last thing Julian wanted to do after that meeting was chat and smile some more, he had no other real choice. Too many people were hard at work setting up for the next day. A trolley of harps was being wheeled out the back of a truck, and he could hear a piping band practicing in the distance. Everyone had last minute questions and congratulations, needed a hand or simply wanted to talk about past Games. Kilroy might have hijacked the coordinator spot from Julian, but these were still his friends, and they were still counting on him.

  He’d just finished helping set up the mud pit for the tug-of-war contest when he recognized a familiar flash of red flannel near the parking lot.