by Diana Bold
Sebastian drifted around Rhoswen’s apartment, still a bit unsteady on his feet but determined to see everything. He wanted to know her world inside and out, commit it to memory so he could take each piece out and examine it later.
Her suite of rooms shared a building with many others, yet boasted both a private entrance and a small outdoor area that overlooked the green expanse of the small forest, which he now knew as a recreational park. Though smaller than any one level of his tower at Hawkesmere, the space was much better utilized.
Upon entering, he found himself in a spacious living area. The azure walls boasted lovely seascapes in white frames, and the overstuffed furniture looked casual and comfortable.
A small kitchen area with amazing cooking and cooling capabilities opened off the living area. He promised himself to explore the incredible technology later and kept looking, intent upon finding the rain box that haunted his dreams.
Rhoswen spoke to Kaylee as he prowled her domain, shooting him an occasional amused glance as Kaylee rattled off myriad instructions about his care. Though his meeting with Oberon had sapped his strength, he still felt amazingly well, considering how close he had been to death just a few days ago.
Oberon had grudgingly allowed him to spend the rest of the day with Rhoswen before he attempted his dangerous rescue of Trevelan. He planned to make the most of every minute.
Though she might not love him the way he loved her, he had managed to convince himself once again that she at least cared for him a bit. Her enthusiastic welcome when he and Kaylee had arrived at her door had done much to soothe his bruised heart.
He entered a small hallway, which led to a sleeping chamber with a large, soft-looking bed. He still was not sure what they made their mattresses of — one of the thousand questions he had been accumulating since he had arrived — but the bed in sick bay had conformed to his body like a cloud, softer than anything he had ever imagined.
The last unopened doorway yielded success.
The room was not large, but contained all manner of wonders. He had already been introduced to the amazing toilets in sick bay, but he flushed this one anyway, amazed as ever by the swift replacement of the old water with new.
There was a porcelain wash bowl against the wall, where one could shave or brush one’s teeth with the assortment of pastes and gels that lined the shelves beneath the crystal clear mirror.
But ‘twas the rain box that captured his complete attention. The glass and marble chamber, easily big enough for two, was exactly like the one he had seen in the dream he had shared with Rhoswen. A tremor of desire wracked him as he thought of making love to her here.
Just one more time before he left…
“You found it, huh?” Rhoswen came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his back. A soft laugh shivered through her slim frame. “I wondered if that dream had affected you as much as it did me.”
He smiled and willed away the pain of his imminent departure. “I do not think I have had a dream since that did not include it. I had no idea if ‘twas real or not, but my imagination certainly did not care.”
“Well, I have made something for lunch. While we eat you can tell me how your meeting with my father went, and then later we can see if reality is as wonderful as your imagination.”
A bit disappointed over being made to wait, he followed her back toward the living area of her home. But as his blood cooled he realized ‘twas for the best. He needed to sit down, rest and eat something. At the moment he was feeling a bit light-headed.
Besides, he needed to ask her some questions about her and Trevelan being chosen mates before he even thought about making love to her again. The last of his arousal faded in an icy rush as he sank down in the comfortable chair she indicated beside the glass dining table.
Jesu Christ, his common sense utterly disappeared every time he saw her.
For a man who had spent most of the last decade celibate, he had allowed his passions to dictate nearly every move he had made since he met her.
“Relax for awhile.” She brushed her lips against his temple in a sweet caress. “It’s almost done.”
As he watched her bustle around the kitchen, deep melancholy gripped him. “’Twas far too easy to imagine what might have been.
If only he had come here of his own will and been invited to stay…
If only Rhoswen cared for him as much as she cared for the man they had unwittingly left to a fate he did not deserve…
He wished he had been born here, and Rhoswen was his chosen mate. He could see himself spending his days in some amazing laboratory, stretching his mind to the limits in search of answers, then coming home to eat dinner with this beautiful woman. He would make love to her in the shower and then hold her in his arms all through the night in that clean, wonderful bed.
But it seemed he would have to content himself with this single night. A house that was not his, a life that was not his and most of all, a woman who was not his.
“So what did my father say to you?” She covered her hands with two padded cloth gloves, opened what appeared to be a very sophisticated oven, and withdrew a serving container filled with some flavorful smelling dish.
Sebastian frowned. “He delved my mind. But it was not like when you did it. He only invaded my thoughts for a moment, but the pain was intense. After that, his entire demeanor changed. He seemed to warm toward me and said I was not anything he thought I was going to be.”
She bit her lip as she took a couple of dishes and some silverware from a cupboard. “I’m sorry if he hurt you. I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but I don’t think either one of us has ever delved a mind without permission before. It just isn’t done, because it’s a horrible invasion of privacy. But with you, we were both pushed into situations where we felt we had no other choice.”
He understood what she meant, but that did not make it any easier to forgive the brutal assault he had experienced at her father’s hands. In any event, he cared far more about what her father had told him. “He explained that Trevelan was your chosen mate.”
She set a plate down in front of him, her hand trembling so much she almost spilled the food in his lap. “He did?” She sounded surprised, but did not deny his accusation.
“I asked you about your relationship with Trevelan,” he reminded her, his voice brittle with betrayal. “I never would have made love to you if I had known. You assured me the two of you were just friends.”
She sank into the seat across from him, refusing to meet his gaze. “We are friends. And I don’t think you understand what it means to be chosen mates here. It’s nothing like the marriages of your people.”
“Then tell me what it is like,” he demanded. “I deserve to know that, I think, after everything we have been through together.”
She sighed. “It’s all to do with procreation. Our numbers are so few, so regulated. Certain bloodlines have to be mixed, so we do not become too inbred. We don’t have sex in order to procreate; the man’s seed is artificially inserted into a woman in a lab, the sex of the baby predetermined. In some instances, the man and woman who are chosen to be the parents of a child create a deeper bond, but often, as is the case with my parents, they do not even live together. The children are raised in dormitories by women who are suited to show maternal love, then educated for whatever position they will assume upon reaching adulthood.” She attempted a weak smile. “Your arrival has the geneticists very excited. I heard one of them say they want a sample or two from you, to add some fresh bloodlines."
He gave her an incredulous glance, shocked and hurt by her obvious acceptance of something he found morally repugnant. "You expect me to father children like a stud horse? What about you? What about us? I think we would have beautiful children together."
For a moment, her eyes softened, but then she banked the emotion, once again the cold, Halcyon princess. "That would be lovely, but it's impossible. You know Trevelan has already been cho
sen to father my child. When the current Owain dies, Trevelan and I will bear a new one."
"I do not see how he can father your child if he is dead." Sebastian knew he was being cruel, but he hated the thought of her having another man's child. It didn’t matter if the man wasn’t even in the room when it happened — a concept which still seemed ridiculous and inhuman to him.
She caught her breath and turned away, refusing to meet his gaze. "There are samples of his sperm in the lab." Her voice turned positively frigid. "I must do my duty. I can’t allow my people to suffer for my own selfishness."
"How can you live this way?" he cried. "How can you allow them to plan every moment of your life?"
"Do you think the way your people live is any better?" she fired back. "The women of Hawkesmere have no choices. Nor do the peasants. And those who do have choices are usually greedy, capricious and cruel."
She was right, of course. He scrubbed a hand across his face. "I do not want to fight with you, Rhoswen. But I cannot stay here as your caged pet, no matter how tempting the prospect."
“What are you saying?” The anger had disappeared from her voice. Now she just sounded tired and resigned. “If you have already made up your mind about something, you might as well tell me.”
“Your father and I have reached an agreement,” he admitted, feeling tired and resigned himself. “He will give me the medicines I need and allow me to leave. In exchange, I will do my best to send Trevelan home to you.”
“You were just going to leave? Without telling me? Without taking me?” She sank into the chair across from him and stared at him beseechingly, all her coldness vanished in the wake of obvious emotion.
Which side of her was real? The tender lover or the ice princess? He truly did not know and was not sure he would ever be able to tell.
“I was going to tell you. Later. And as for taking you — Christ, are you insane? If I have my way, you will never set foot upon the Surface again. It is too dangerous, and you are terrible at fitting in. You do not belong there, which is obvious for anyone with eyes in their head to see. If it were not for me, you would have come to a bad end in Hawkesmere, Rhoswen. We both know it.”
She flushed and buried her face in her hands. “How are you going to help Trevelan when your brother would sooner have you dead than look at you?”
“I will throw myself upon his mercy,” he answered tightly, refusing to admit, even to himself, that Simon’s mercy was not a thing to gamble upon. “He will listen to me. I will make him listen.”
“What if there was another way? What if I could get you into Hawkesmere, into your tower, undetected?”
He narrowed his gaze, sensing he was not going to like what she was about to tell him. “How on Earth could you do that?”
“There’s a secret passage that ends in the hot springs beneath your tower.”
“More secrets.” He shook his head, disgusted by all the things she had hidden from him. “If this tunnel exists, why did you not use it to escape? I left you alone down there for nearly an hour.”
“I couldn’t find it,” she admitted. “But I know it’s there somewhere. The entrance should be easier to find from the other side.”
“Perhaps you should draw me a map,” he conceded reluctantly, seeing how such a thing could aid his quest. “It would be good to have another way in.”
She shook her head and lifted her gaze, meeting his with grim determination. “I won’t draw you a map. But I’ll show you. If you take me with you.”
He pushed his food away. Her words had destroyed his appetite. “Absolutely not. Your father would never allow it, and neither will I. Everything I have done during the past few days, every risk I have taken, was so I could see you safely home where you belonged.”
“How can you expect me to sit here and wait? Not knowing whether you made it? Not knowing whether you found Trevelan? This whole thing is my fault. If I wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, we wouldn’t have left Trevelan behind, and you’d have been able to help your people when they needed you. Please, Sebastian. I’m begging you. Give me the chance to help make this right.”
“There is nothing you can do.” Her words and recent insistence on the importance of order in Halcyon made it obvious that Trevelan was her only concern, and he was more determined than ever to keep her here where she belonged. “You will only impede my efforts.”
“I won’t,” she cried. “I swear I won’t. I can help you get there, and then I can help Trevelan return to Halcyon, so you can remain at your precious Hawkesmere.”
“Cease this nonsense!” He scrambled to his feet and held up one hand to quell any more argument. “I will not take you, Rhoswen. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”
A bullheaded look settled upon her fair features, but she remained quiet.
“Thank you,” he told her, trying to soften his tone but finding it incredibly difficult. “Now, if you do not mind, I am going to try out that shower, then sleep for a few hours so I will be ready to leave when your father comes for me in the morning. I would appreciate it if you would just let me do what I must without any further arguments.
“I’ll make you a tray and leave it by the bed,” she said, after a long moment of obvious internal battle. “You need to eat.”
He nodded and strode from the room, entering the bathing room and leaning heavily upon the door as he tried to bring his rioting emotions under control. He wished like hell there was somewhere else to go, but the apartment was simply too small. Like it or not, they were stuck with each other for the next twenty-four hours.
With a deep sigh, he finally found the strength to push himself away from the door and disrobe. It took him a moment, but he found the right knob to get the water in the shower running. He stepped beneath the steaming waterfall, gasping a bit as the water hit his wound.
Wonderful. The shower was everything he had dreamed it would be, but without Rhoswen by his side, the entire experience seemed empty. Jesu Christ, it would be hard to leave her, especially when she was begging him to take her with him. Despite the danger, he could not help wanting to prolong this thing between them for as long as possible.
He prayed for the strength to resist her pleas.
Chapter Twenty
Rhoswen stood in her bedroom doorway, watching Sebastian sleep, her heart in her throat. If she had ever seen anything more beautiful in her life, she couldn’t remember it. He lay sprawled on his stomach across her bed, a towel wrapped around his lean hips, his disheveled sable hair spread across his broad shoulders and the white sheets.
He’d shaved, and his lips looked soft and lush against the harsh planes of his aristocratic features. The thought of never kissing him again, never touching that hard, muscular body brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them rapidly away, determined to stay strong. She needed to keep her wits about her if she were going to persuade him to take her with him back to Hawkesmere.
His arguments made sense. If she went with him, she’d only slow him down. She’d get in his way, and she feared his concern for her would take away the edge he’d need to do what had to be done. In fact, she couldn’t think of anything in her defense other than her need to stay with him just a little longer.
If she let him leave Halcyon without her, she knew she’d never see him again.
He was obviously furious with her and confused about her relationship with Trevelan. Somehow, she had to help him understand the truth of it — Sebastian was all she’d ever wanted, and she didn’t intend to let him go without a fight.
Moving quietly, she changed into a pair of soft flannel sleepwear, turned off the light and slid into bed beside him. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the days of stress and worry had exhausted her, and she needed some rest nearly as much as he did.
As she snuggled up beside him, he turned and cradled her against him, instinctively adjusting his position to make her comfortable. As his breathing evened out again, she released a sigh of bone deep contentment. In his arms, s
he could almost believe that everything would be all right.
Hopefully, things would be clearer when she awoke.
* * *
“Is someone there?”
Miranda sat straight up in bed, hugging the covers to her chin. Her heart thundered in her chest as she peered around her tower bedchamber. She blinked against the bright glare of the fireplace, then frowned when she noticed the flames were freshly stoked, not burnt to embers as they should be at this time of night. Had she gotten up to add another log and somehow forgotten?
Ever since she had taken up residence in Hawkesmere’s haunted tower, she had often sensed she was not alone.
At first she had assumed ’twas the tower ghosts who plagued her, perhaps Sir Sebastian himself, but now she wondered if the intruder was far more earthly. How else to explain roaring fires in the middle of the night and extra blankets tucked around her during the cold fall evenings?
A very helpful ghost, she mused.
Or perhaps a very helpful man. A man on the run, who dared not show his face for fear of capture.
There. Behind the bed hangings at the foot of the bed. A movement. A small disturbance of the air, as though someone shivered in the cold.
“Trevelan?” she whispered, afraid to speak the name aloud, afraid to hope, even though she could think of no other explanation.
The soft, surprised intake of breath sounded very loud in the quiet of the room. Perhaps she should be afraid, but instead excitement surged through her. Was he really here?
“Did you stoke the fire for me?” She kept her voice soft and unthreatening, as though trying to coax out a wild animal. “This is not the first time, is it, my friend?”
When he did not answer, she leaned forward, trying to see around the bed hangings. “It’s nice to sleep through the night, instead of waking up in the freezing dark. I appreciate your help more than you will ever know.”