A Guardian's Touch
Page 4
Jemima had been with many women but never with an older woman like Martina. Jemima was sure that Martina, in her late thirties with years of sowing wild oats, must be an accomplished lover. She took Martina’s hand and squeezed it lightly. No harm in showing my interest.
“Unfortunately, I already have plans for tonight, but if you like, we can meet tomorrow night at your place and discuss business.” Her vivid blue eyes looked deeply into Martina’s green ones. She smiled inwardly when she saw that her seduction was working. Jemima knew from experience that her eyes were one of her best attributes, followed closely by her tall athletic body and gleaming blonde hair.
While in art school, she never had a shortage of admirers from both sexes. In the three years she’d spent there, she’d only had two relationships. The rest were all one-night stands, which involved no emotions—apart from rampant lust and a lot of toys.
“I’ve been invited to a woman-only party tomorrow night,” Martina said.
Jemima watched as Martina’s green eyes traveled leisurely up and down her paint-splattered frame before Martina smiled.
“You can come as my date and afterwards we can go to my place and talk business.”
Jemima smiled. “Sounds great. Will you give me a call tomorrow so we can make plans?”
Martina grinned, and, with a sassy wink, sashayed out of the studio, swaying her sexy hips.
Jemima took a deep breath to clear her lust-filled mind before returning to her unfinished painting. Whistling cheerfully, she continued to mix paints before the notes suddenly died on her lips. She quickly swung around and scanned the room. No one was there—she was alone in the studio. After she returned to her paints and could still feel the presence remain, she lashed out. “Please leave my studio, Tahlia.”
The presence lingered behind her shoulder for a few more seconds before it disappeared.
†
Tahlia clenched her fists as she lay in the large underground chamber below the Marsden mansion. For the past few years, she had ignored all of Jemima’s one-night stands, but this time she would not remain passive. Jemima was a grown woman and the time had come for Tahlia to claim her. She had patiently waited for twenty-two years, but she was not going to wait any longer.
A deep growl escaped her pale lips when she thought of the art critic. She’d sensed the woman’s presence the minute Martina had stepped into the house. She knew the art critic’s kind very well—a sexual predator. The realization had made her eyes snap open, and, even though the sun was high in sky, she separated her spirit from her body and streaked up through the cellar out into the sunlit kitchen and into Jemima’s studio. What she’d found had made her fangs lengthen. A beautiful brunette with big breasts and hungry green eyes was flirting openly with Jemima, her mind echoing the lewd acts she hoped to inflict upon Jemima. If only Jemima didn’t hate me so much, I could’ve warned her against the vile woman.
Throughout the centuries, Tahlia had her hands full trying to convince arrogant Duchesses and servant girls alike that they were the reincarnations of her beloved and that their destinies intertwined. It was at times, both mentally and emotionally draining, but it was always worth it in the end. Jemima’s present dislike of her really was nothing out of the ordinary. She’d been through that more times than she cared to remember.
All through Jemima's seductive conversation with the woman, Tahlia had lingered in the room. She could feel her great strength waste away at being out of her body for so long while the sun was at its zenith, but she was not going to leave Jemima alone with that woman. Never. Especially not while I can read the woman’s thoughts so clearly.
After the other woman’s departure, Tahlia had an overwhelming need to touch Jemima and finally stake her claim. She drifted closer to the woman she loved more than life itself, but after Jemima’s cold rejection, had reluctantly returned to her body. Now, back in her sleep-paralyzed body, Tahlia was seething with anger and jealousy. For a few seconds she entertained the thought of chasing down the woman and ripping out her heart, but, just as quickly, she discarded the thought. She was not a killer of innocents, and she wasn’t going to start, even if she was feeling incredibly lonely and wished she were lying in Jemima’s warm embrace.
Since the day of Jemima’s eighteenth birthday, Tahlia had felt her body warring with her mind to claim the young woman. The beast in her constantly battled with the lust that welled inside at the sight of her beloved. Even now, her battered soul was crying out for Jemima’s touch. She had relived thousands of moments together to appease her hunger, but it was never the same. It could never be enough. She closed her eyes, and the deep mental howl, which erupted from the depths of her lonely heart, vibrated in the earth encasing her and echoed through the chamber above. She felt the wetness on her cheek and knew that if she’d lift her hand to her face she would encounter a single blood tear. What was it about this girl that made her act like a sobbing weakling? It had never happened to her before.
The voice was soft and sounded very worried, causing Tahlia’s sunken eyes to snap open.
Jemima sounded panicky, and Tahlia smiled gently. Her heart was rejoicing. Jemima did care for her. Maybe not like she wanted her to, but it was a start. When Jemima was younger, they’d made a connection, but it didn’t last long, and it was back to square one when Jemima went off to study. But still—it was a start.
Not wanting to exhaust the fragile opportunity granted by a taciturn Jemima, Tahlia reluctantly snapped off her mental communication with Jemima and silently lay there covered by thick layers of earth. Images of Jemima flashed through her mind, and she felt another tear streaking down her face. She would have to make a move soon. Jemima was ready. They were wasting precious time that they should be spending together. Her mind made up, Tahlia willed her body and mind to expel all the negative emotions coursing through her. She slowly shut down all her vital organs and slipped into the deep dreamless sleep of her kind.
Chapter Four
Jemima had dropped her paintbrush when she heard the anguished howl echoing through her mind. Tahlia! She didn’t know how she knew it was Tahlia, but she did. Filled with so much anguish, the cry had made Jemima’s heart clench. She couldn’t imagine somebody experiencing so much sorrow. Before she could react to it, her father had rushed into her studio.
“Something’s wrong with Tahlia, Jemi.” She watched as his blue eyes scanned the inside of the studio, looking around as if he expected to find Tahlia in the room.
Not ready to let her father know that she shared his ability, Jemima had to think fast. “From what you told me about Tahlia, she sounds like a woman who knows how to take care of herself, Dad.” She tried to sound reassuring, but she could see from her father’s pale face that he was still worried.
“I’ve reached out to her, but she’s not talking to me.”
Her father was shaking, and Jemima walked over to him and held him in her arms.
“She’s hurting, Jemi. She’s hurting really bad. I can feel it.”
I know, Dad, and I feel somewhat responsible for it. Then she did what she’d promised herself she’d never do and reached out to Tahlia. Relief and, strangely, pleasure filled her body when Tahlia had responded immediately. Though she could still detect a hint of pain in the other woman’s voice, she sounded fine. She was, however, puzzled by the abrupt way Tahlia had ended their communication. Gently she pushed out of the embrace and cradled her father’s face in both her hands. She was tall enough to look into his eyes. “Tahlia seems so…so…indestructible, Dad. Believe me…she will be okay. I’m sure she will contact you soon.” She had placed a gentle kiss on his ch
eek and looked into his eyes until she saw the worry gradually disappear. “She will talk to you soon. I just know it.”
James nodded and left the studio with drooping shoulders.
Alone again, Jemima sunk onto the plush bean bag in the corner. Tahlia’s pain had shaken her too, especially by the thought that she might be the cause. Even if she mistrusted the woman, the idea of Tahlia not being around anymore was unsettling. She meant so much to her father. That was obvious from his reaction when he’d thought she was injured. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and grimaced. Even she couldn’t think how life would be without Tahlia. If only Tahlia knew how she really affected her…
Jemima was seventeen when she realized that she was actually more than fond of her Social Studies teacher, Ms. Nadia Greenspan. At night, she dreamt about her. During class, she would stare at the dark-eyed teacher and daydream about the cute brunette. Her infatuation lasted for a few months until Ms. Greenspan got married and moved to Canada with her new husband.
Jemima was heartbroken, but the pain and rejection lessened and eventually disappeared when she had set her amorous sights on someone else. Who better than Tahlia, the ever-present Tahlia? Unlike Mrs. Greenspan, Tahlia was always there and would never leave her. All of a sudden, the sexy voice that was always in her mind started to take on a human shape. Her nights filled with dreams of a tall, dark silhouette. Her infatuation with Tahlia lasted right through high school and college until she’d met Megan.
The shy photography student was gorgeous with big dark eyes and dark curls. It was only later that she recognized the physical similarities between Megan and her dreamlike images of Tahlia. Both were dark and Jemima found herself thinking more and more of Tahlia when she made love to Megan. That led to her once calling out Tahlia’s name, and the relationship abruptly ended. Then there was Claire, another Tahlia look-alike with flowing dark hair and deep dark eyes. Their relationship suffered the same fate as had her previous one. That was when she started raking in one-night stands.
No-strings-attached sex worked just well for her. Once her itch was scratched, she moved on to the next willing woman. After bedding as many beauties as she could, Jemima eventually grew tired of meaningless encounters longing for the stability of a steady lover. That person eluded her. Not knowing who to blame for her inability to meet and sustain a meaningful relationship, she placed the responsibility on Tahlia. Over the next three years, her dislike had turned into a deep-rooted anger toward the faceless Tahlia. She knew how juvenile and baseless it was to accuse Tahlia, but she was too angry to give a damn. She wasn’t ready to shoulder the culpability alone.
With a tired sigh, she rubbed over her eyes again, and, with her hands locked behind her head, studied the partially finished painting through half-closed eyes. Whereas earlier she was so excited to get back to the painting, all she wanted to do now was take a shower and crawl into bed before meeting her father for dinner and a game of chess later. She looked across at the clock on wall. She still had four hours. Maybe a shower isn’t such a bad idea after all. She dragged herself to her feet and began to clean her brushes.
†
Although freezing cold outside, inside the lounge was nice and warm. A fire burned in the fireplace spreading its warmth and setting a pleasant mood for the occupants. James nursed a glass of whiskey as he studied the chessboard in front of him. He’d already made his move, but he still doubted his choice. Jemima was an accomplished player, and it paid to pay close attention when playing against her. “Your turn,” he said.
They had just shared a wonderful dinner. Even though Tahlia had not spoken to him since that afternoon, he still felt her presence in the house. This was turning out to be yet another wonderful birthday surrounded by his loved ones. He grinned. Although he had never met Tahlia face-to-face, and, considering the strange telepathic relationship they had, James still considered her a dear friend. She was his anchor, his confidante, and so much more. Sometimes, in the dead of night when he woke from a nightmare and tearfully reached for where Jane was supposed to be, he could feel the warm gentle arms cradling him and the soft voice telling him that it was going to get better. He was not alone.
If only he could get Jemi to warm up to Tahlia. Over the years, he had tried on numerous occasions to bring Tahlia into their conversations but Jemima always clammed up and changed the topic. At least Tahlia took everything in stride. She was very accommodating and had even asked him not to put any pressure on Jemima to accept her presence.
He looked at Jemima and smiled. The blonde was staring at the chessboard from over the rim of her whisky glass with her bright blue eyes slightly dark in concentration. His heart swelled with pride as he looked at her. Jemima is unbelievably beautiful and so talented—just like her mother.
Tahlia’s husky voice echoed in his mind, and James smiled warmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jemima stiffen slightly but paid no heed. He was happy to know that Tahlia was fine, and he felt a great feeling of relief wash over him.
“You and Tahlia better stop gossiping, Dad. I can hear you both clearly.” Jemima didn’t look up from the chessboard.
Stunned, the whisky glass almost slipped out of James’ hand. “What…what did you say?”
Can it be possible that she is psychic as well? She has to be, otherwise how else can I explain her ability to tap into our conversations? James watched as Jemima slowly got to her feet and walked over to stand in front of the fireplace.
“I know about you and Tahlia.” Jemima rubbed her forearms slowly. “I could hear the two of you talking to each other since I was six.” Jemima lifted the glass and throwing her head back emptied the contents in one gulp. “Tahlia also talks to me. I just refuse to answer.”
James just sat there, slack-jawed; amazed that Jemima had known all this time. He was trying to find a way to sit his daughter down and tell her about Tahlia and all she had done for them over the years. He wanted to make a proper introduction to their benefactor and protector. It seems I’m too late. He desperately needed Tahlia to save the day once again as she’d always done.
He froze when Jemima turned sharply and pierced him with a sharp stare.
“I don’t know how you can trust her. How do you know she’s not some kind of…” She threw her hands in the air. “We’ve never met her. Don’t you think it’s strange that she came into our lives to help us without asking for anything in return?” Jemima looked around the room. “I know that this mansion, the expensive cars, exclusive schools, the money, and everything else came from Tahlia. She made sure we wanted for nothing. There has to be a catch.”
James shook his head. “She has never asked for anything. I don’t think she has an ulterior motive.”
“If you want to speak to me, Tahlia, I want you to do it face-to-face.” Jemima snapped. “What the hell are you, anyway?”
James surged to his feet, his blue eyes flashing. “You will not speak to Tahlia that way, Jemima.”
Jemima blinked.
“She was there for me when I had to come to terms with the loss of your mother and being left with a small baby. For the past twenty-two years, she has been a loyal friend to me, and I repeat, I will not allow you to talk to her like that. She doesn’t deserve it.” James turned and went to stand in front of the window shaking with anger. “If there is something she wants in return for her selfless assistance, then I personally will grant her that. I trust her to tell me what she wants. In the meantime, I will not waste my time speculating.”
Jemima hung her head. James’s powerful shoulders slumped before he
turned back to her and opened his strong arms. Jemima rushed into the outstretched arms.
“I’m so sorry, Dad. Please forgive me.” She held on tightly to her father, her face pressed into his neck.
James gently pulled back and looked down into her eyes as he stroked her hair. “I know you don’t fully comprehend our friendship, Jemi, but Tahlia is very dear to me and I wish you could give her a chance to prove her friendship to you. OK?” He didn’t wait for her reply. He kissed her cheek before turning her toward the chessboard. “You were on last, remember?”
The rest of the night went by without incident. When James was ready to turn in, Jemima kissed him goodnight. .
Chapter Five
Jemima poured herself another drink and walked over to the fireplace, staring at the flames. What was she thinking, tearing into Tahlia like that? In hindsight she realized that it was totally uncalled for. She felt the tears prick at the back of her eyes. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how her father must have felt after her mother died. As a baby, James grew up in an orphanage and her mother was not only was the love of his life, but his only family too. Losing her had gutted her father and Tahlia probably did more for him than Jemima would ever realize.
She reached up a hand and wiped the lone tear that trickled down her cheek. Her hand froze against her cheek when she felt a soft, comforting presence nearby. Tahlia. Not ready to deal with the woman, she placed her untouched drink on the mantel. She needed fresh air, and she had to get away from Tahlia. On her way out of the house, Jemima grabbed her wallet and keys.