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Find Me Alastar

Page 33

by T L Swan


  “Then let’s throw caution to the wind. Forget about everything else. Marry me because of us.” He smiles hopefully.

  My heart stops. There it is, the because of us thing that I love so much.

  “Alastar,” I whisper as I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his palm. “That might just be the most romantic or incredibly stupid thing that I have ever heard in my life.”

  He smiles softly as he cups my face. “I would like to think romantic.” He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

  “What about our families?”

  “It’s about us, because of us. We don’t need their approval. We can marry again for their sake later down the track. I just know that I don’t want to be apart from you again. I want you to be my wife for now and forever, and I want it to start tomorrow.”

  My eyes tear up. Okay, mostly romantic now… the stupid theory is fading fast. I shrug. What am I doing? I hardly know this man.

  “Marry me, Emmaline,” he whispers as his eyes search mine.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  He smiles broadly and the candlelight flickers in his eyes. “I love you,” he whispers. “Tomorrow it is, my love.”

  I tear up again. “I love you, too.” He gets out of his chair, comes around to kneel down on the floor next to me, and kisses me on the lips gently. It’s all I can do not to throw him onto the table and give the other diners an X-rated show.

  “Tomorrow.” He smiles against my lips.

  I smile broadly as I run my fingers through his stubble. I love this crazy, fucked up man. He’s exotic and romantic and so frigging spontaneous that he blows my damn mind.

  I have died and gone to dreamboat heaven with the romance god of the world. Alastar stands and calls the waiter over. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alastar looks down at me and smiles. “We would like to get married here tomorrow.”

  The waiters face lights up. “Congratulations, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I will have to check with management.”

  “It will only be just the two of us and then we will book another proper reception for a large number in a couple of months’ time.”

  The waiter smiles down at me. “I see, sir,” he replies.

  Holy shit. What the hell am I doing? Brielle is going to freak the hell out.

  “Do you have your own minister or how does this work?” Alastar asks.

  “Ah, no. We use the town ministers. I shall get reception to contact them and get back to you.”

  Alastar smiles. “Thank you.”

  “Very well, sir.” The waiter replies. “Can I get you anything else?” Alastar’s loving eyes linger on my face. “Champagne.”

  I smile softly as I struggle to awaken the part of my brain that has just fainted.

  “Of course.” The waiter smiles happily. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Alastar sits back down in his chair opposite me and takes off my emerald ring, sliding it onto my ring finger then kissing the back of it.

  I melt into my seat as my eyes hold his.

  “If it wasn’t for this ring, I would never have found you,” he whispers.

  I smile as I am overcome with emotion and an idea comes to mind. “I would like to use this ring for my engagement ring,” I murmur.

  He frowns. “You don’t want a big diamond?”

  I shake my head. “No. I want this ring because it is sentimental, along with this man and his beautiful heart.”

  He stares at me and after a while smiles softly. “I knew this place was special, that it would be special to me.”

  The waiter returns with a waitress following him with a cheese platter and chocolate covered strawberries. “Here we are, sir. A bottle of our best champagne.” He pops the cork and I laugh out loud as he fills our glasses. We wait for him to leave and Alastar holds up his glass. “A toast.”

  I smile broadly as I hold up my glass.

  “Because of us,” he whispers.

  Once more, I tear up as the rest of the world disappears. “Because of us,” I breathe as our glasses gently touch. I taste my champagne and it’s like heaven to my lips. I hold up the glass and smile broadly. “And because of this champagne...” I hold my glass in the air and point it at him. “I might let you do unspeakable things to me tonight.”

  Alastar smiles broadly and gives me a dirty wink. “Drink up. The night is young.”

  * * *

  I laugh as Alastar drags me through the castle, back to our room. “Shh,” he slurs.

  I giggle out loud and he looks at me. “Shh,” I repeat as I put my finger up to my lips. “Stop being so noisy,” I whisper loudly.

  He smirks and keeps walking as he drags me by the hand.

  It’s 1am and, after three bottles of expensive champagne, we are seriously tipsy. In fact, we are lost. We walk down a corridor and arrive at a roped off section when Alastar goes to turn around. I frown and squint my eyes as I look down the hall at the roped off, out of bounds section.

  I know that hallway.

  “What’s down there?” I frown. It’s a long sandstone corridor with numerous doors leading off it. It is dimly lit with muted lights on the walls, and the carpet is deep red.

  “Who knows?” he murmurs in his drunken, strong accent. He tries to pull me and I stop dead.

  “What are you doing?” He frowns.

  “We are going this way.” I step over the red rope that blocks the exit.

  “You’re going to get us kicked out of here.” He chuckles as he steps over the rope. “I like your style.”

  I walk down the corridor with him following me.

  “Down here,” I whisper.

  “Down where,” he murmurs as he follows me.

  “There is a door down here.” I keep walking as I squint to see where I am. I stop still and look back to where we have come from. No, it’s this way. We continue walking and I stop at the third door from the end on the left. “This is it.”

  He smiles. “This is what?”

  I look at him and frown. “I don’t know, but this door is important.” I jiggle the handle. “It’s locked,” I whisper. I bend down and put my hand along under the stones on the bottom ledge.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “It should be down here.” I feel along the bottom of the rail.

  “What should be down there?”

  Ah. I feel it! I grab it and hold it up as I smile. A key. An old, copper key is hidden in the stonework.

  Alastar raises his eyebrows in question and I shrug.

  I laugh as my eyes widen in shock and I cover my mouth with my hands.

  “How did you know that was there?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I hold it up and study the key.

  “You have been here before, haven’t you?” Alastar slurs as he sidesteps to balance himself.

  I put it in the door, turn it and watch as it unlocks the door.

  “Alastar,” I whisper, wide-eyed. “Shit.”

  “You’re going to get us kicked out before we even get fucking married.” He chuckles in amusement.

  We both look around guiltily, open the door and walk in. Alastar flicks on the light and closes the door behind us. Our eyes roam around the room as we adjust to the dim lighting. It’s a small room made of stone and has a large door at the back of it.

  “It’s in there,” I whisper.

  “What’s in there?” he asks.

  “The staircase.”

  I open the large, heavy barn door, and sure enough, a large spiral staircase is inside. “Alastar,” I whisper.

  His eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

  I stop still. Shit. What am I doing? How do I know this?

  Am I psychic?

  I suddenly don’t want to elaborate to Alastar anything more I know. This is unsettling and frightening. He will think I am crazy.

  Maybe I am psychic.
r />   “Excuse me. What are you doing?” A woman’s voice rings out.

  “O-oh,” I stammer in shock.

  Alastar laughs and my eyes widen in horror.

  “Ahh. We got lost,” he replies.

  “This door was locked,” she replies flatly as she comes into view.

  “No. You must be mistaken. If it was locked, we wouldn’t be in here now, would we?” he says sarcastically in his drunken, heavy accent.

  She frowns as her eyes roam between the two of us.

  “Where does this staircase go to?” I ask.

  “I am not sure. I have never been in here before. You need to leave immediately.”

  “Of course.” Alastar smiles. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  I stand still on the spot as my eyes stay locked on the staircase. I’m not sure I want to leave just yet. I want to know how the hell I knew this was even here? I’m confused. My eyes search Alastar’s and he smiles warmly. “It’s okay, Emmaline.”

  “But…” I frown again. “But I don’t…”

  He kisses me quickly on the lips. “Come, let’s go, my love.” He drags me out. “We have to get some sleep.” He turns his attention to the cranky woman. “We are getting married tomorrow, you know?”

  “Congratulations,” she replies, monotone.”

  My eyes go to Alastar and I smile broadly. “We are, too. I nearly forgot.”

  His mouth drops open in feign shock. “How could you ever forget that vital piece of information?”

  I laugh out loud and shake my head in wonder. “Probably because it’s unbelievable.”

  * * *

  I lie with my head on the firm skin of Alastar’s chest. He’s fast asleep and I am deep in thought.

  How did I know where that doorway was? How did I know where the key was kept? Where did that staircase lead to, exactly?

  I feel unsettled and anxiety is starting to pump through my blood. I don’t know what to make of this, and now, today, I am getting married. Holy freaking crap. Have I totally lost my mind?

  Four weeks ago I was eating my way through London in despair and now I am in a castle with the man of my dreams planning a wedding whilst knowing things that I shouldn’t know.

  What in the hell is going on with me?

  I want to ring Brielle, but I know if I do she is going to freak out and talk me out of today. I gently kiss Alastar’s chest and I smile softly. Right now he is the only thing I am certain of. I have not one doubt about the way I feel about him, or about the way he feels about me.

  He makes me feel safe like I never have before, and yet, if anything, I should feel out of control… because that’s what I am. I’m out of control and high on his love.

  I feel him stir underneath me and then his gentle kiss on my forehead. “Good morning, my love,” he whispers.

  I smile into his chest. “Good morning, Twinkle,” I breathe as I kiss his chest. Instantly my unease dissipates. It’s as if he is the answer to all my questions.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks gently.

  I shrug.

  He leans up onto his elbow and looks down at me. “Don’t you want to get married today?”

  I smile. “I do want to get married today.”

  He leans and kisses me gently on the lips as if relieved. “Then what is it?’

  My eyes search his. I need to talk to someone, and I suppose if he is to be my husband, I should talk to him.

  I fiddle with a piece of the blanket and my eyes stay focused on my fingers. “Alastar...” I hesitate, this sounds so ridiculous.

  “Yes, Em. What is it?” he asks, concerned.

  My eyes meet his. “How did I know where that key was last night?”

  He smiles softly and bends and kisses my forehead. “Keys are always hidden around doorways. It was a fluke, my love.”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t. I knew what I was looking for.”

  He watches me for a moment as if unsure what to say.

  “I’ve…” I stop.

  “You’ve what?”

  “I’ve been having these weird things come into my head.”

  He frowns. “Like what?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I thought it was just my imagination, but now I’m scared that it’s something more.” “What do you mean?”

  “Like yesterday, when we pulled up, I imagined looking out of the window.”

  He watches me.

  “And then last night… I knew that doorway was there and I knew where the key was.”

  He smiles softly, bends and kisses my cheek gently as he cups my face.

  “I get flashing lights and things in my head. It’s weird, Alastar,” I breathe.

  “It’s not weird. I imagine things all the time. Tis called romanticizing, Emmaline.”

  I frown at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Well.” He frowns as he tries to articulate his thoughts. “I don’t see the world as everyone else sees it. When I see certain things, I imagine it through the lens of a camera. I don’t understand how other people don’t see things the way I do.”

  I think for a moment.

  “And you said you want to dabble in writing, so maybe this is your brain planning out future books, imagining things that aren’t there as if they are real. Authors do this weird thing where they see scenes happening ahead of time and characters seem real to them.”

  “That is one way to think of it, I suppose. Funnily enough, Brielle said the same thing.” Maybe my imagination is getting the better of me.

  “What do you think of it?” he asks as he lies back and folds his arms behind his head.

  “What if I’m…?” I fiddle with the blankets once more. I don’t even want to say it loud in case it makes it come true.

  He takes my hand gently in his and smiles. “You’re what?”

  “What if I’m psychic?” I whisper, horrified as my eyes find his.

  He pulls me back down onto him. “Then my wife will be psychic,” he murmurs into my hair as he wraps his arms around me tightly. “I’ve never been one for convention.” His lips move to my neck and he starts to suck and nibble. “Could be kind of useful, actually.”

  “Twinkle, stop it.” I try to pull from his grip. “This is serious and it’s scaring me.”

  He kisses me gently. “Don’t be scared. You have nothing to be scared of. Just go with it, write down what you think about, and then we can sit down and try decipher what’s going on.”

  My eyes search his. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “Well, you are marrying me today, so you must be.”

  I smile broadly and kiss his perfect lips. “You always make sense of the most illogical things.”

  He holds me tight. “We can be crazy and illogical together,” he murmurs into my hair. “We are getting married today, after all. Mr. and Mrs. Illogical.”

  I bite my lip to stifle my stupid smile. “And I have nothing to wear to my wedding.”

  He smiles broadly. “Neither do I.” He kisses my forehead. “Maybe we should wear bathrobes. They are white and hanging in the bathroom…. definitely handy.”

  “And matching.” I giggle.

  He rolls me over and holds my hands above my head. “I love you.” He kisses me gently.

  I smile as my eyes hold his. I love this man. I love that I just told him I am going crazy and he doesn’t care. I have never felt so accepted. It’s inspiring and yet terrifying at the same time.

  The phone rings, making us jump, and Alastar leans over to pick it up. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Mr. O’ Shea. It’s Ronan, the manager from reception.”

  I smile. I can hear what they are saying through the phone.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but unfortunately I don’t have good news about today’s wedding arrangements.

  “Why is that?”

  “We cannot find a minister to marry you.”

  Alastar frowns. “Why not?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we have c
ontacted everyone we know and not one person is in town until the end of the week.”

  Alastar purses his lips in annoyance but remains silent.

  “We can make a booking for Saturday.”

  Alastar exhales in frustration. “I wanted today.”

  “I know, sir, and I apologize, but it is out of our control if you want the marriage to be legal.”

  Alastar’s eyes flick to me and I nod. “It’s okay,” I mouth. “Book Saturday.” This could be good because I can buy some sort of a dress. My mind wanders to Brielle and I already know that I want to tell her.

  He runs his hand through his hair as he thinks.

  “I can book the same room you are in now for the weekend and we could organize the wedding for 2pm on Saturday.”

  Alastar rolls his eyes.

  I smile and nod. “Saturday will be good. We can spend the whole weekend here,” I whisper.

  He watches me for a moment.

  “It makes no difference, today or Saturday. It’s only five days away,” I argue.

  He exhales in frustration and rolls his eyes. “Fine, book us in for Saturday.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will make the arrangements.”

  “Thank you,” he replies, clearly dejected as he hangs up. He flops back onto the bed and I throw myself on top of him.

  “So much for our spontaneity.” He sighs.

  I laugh out loud and kiss his lips. “I’m sorry, but from where I come from, getting married in five days is still pretty spontaneous.”

  He smiles against my lips. “Not enough for me.”

  Chapter 23

  Sitting at my desk, I print the last of the files. All morning I have been printing images of the artwork that has been stolen. I flick through the large pile of pictures of women and put them into a manila folder. They’re all gorgeous women. Maybe the thief is just into antique porn. I stifle a giggle. Maybe he just wants new material for his spank bank. It could happen, I suppose.

  My phone rings and I pick up. “Hello, Emerson.” It’s Mark.

  “Hi.” I smile.

  “We have some detectives that are here to see you. Can you come down to the conference room, please?”

  “Sure.” Shit. I blow out a breath. I’ve had four meetings about this last week. These crimes have the board and the police scratching their heads. My phone rings and the name Twinkle lights up my screen. Excitement runs through me. Even a call from him makes my day.

 

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