Blood Haze (22 page)

“Arabella,
my Arabella,” he said softly against her ear. Her body responded to the sound
of his voice, just as it always did. His soft, South African accent never
failed to shift something in her chest.

“Do
you know what Arabella means in Italian?” he asked.

Not
wanting to move, but wanting him to continue speaking, she gave a slight shake
of her head.

“Answered
prayer. That’s what you are to me; an answered prayer. You’re very special to
me. Don’t ever forget that, no matter what,” he said, as he wrapped his arms
across her chest, pulling her even tighter into his body.

“Answered
prayer,” she murmured, mulling the words over in her mind. She didn’t feel like
such a freak now. She felt… loved. Not that he’d said those words. But his
actions had been… loving.

“Do
you remember our first night together?” he asked.

“Yes,
she said with a smile, as the memory of his body intertwined with hers entered
her mind’s eye.

“You
promised you would come to me when I hurt you. Do you remember?”

She
swallowed at the soft recriminations in his voice. Knowing she’d failed him in
this. “Yes,” she whispered.

He
pressed his lips against her head to soften his rebuke. “If we’re going to make
it as a couple, you’ve got to promise me, you’ll always come to me. Unlike you,
I don’t have any magical gifts which would allow me to read your mind. I need
to know where your head is at. Will you promise me?”

“I’ll
try.”

“Don’t
just try, do it. If I hurt you… in any way, I want you to come to me and tell
me. Okay?” he questioned more sternly, his body tensing beneath her.

Her
eyebrows furrowed at his definitive tone. This was apparently very important to
him. “I will,” she answered, bewildered.

He
slowly relaxed and sighed deeply. “Okay. Do you remember what you saw in your…
your vision?”

This
time it was her turn to tense. She tried to lean away from him, but he just
tightened his grip. “No, you’re not running. What was it? Was it about your
attack?” he asked.

She
swallowed and shook her head as claustrophobia washed over her at the
remembrance of the glimpsing. She clutched the edges of the tub, her feelings
of calmness far, far away.

He
waited for her to continue, when she didn’t, he asked again, “What was it?”
Soothingly, he leaned forward and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

Knowing
how crazy the dream would sound, she murmured, “I don’t remember.”

His
hands ceased and his body stilled behind her. He exhaled deeply. Gently, he
pushed her forward and slowly rose up and stepped out of the tub. Grabbing a
towel, he began to roughly dry the water from his skin. She wrapped her arms
around her knees and watched him. The sight of his toned body did fluttery
things to her stomach.

After
wrapping the towel around his waist, he studied her impassively. “Two things,
Arabella. Trust and truth. If we don’t have those two things between us, we
have nothing. Trust and truth,” he repeated.

She
closed her eyes when he stalked out of the bathroom. She heard drawers being
opened and shut, the shuffling of clothing as he dressed. Finally, she heard
the bedroom door close quietly. She jumped at the sound as if he’d slammed it
with all his might.

It
wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him about the glimpsing, it was just that
she didn’t understand what it meant. Just because it had been manifested that
way, didn’t necessarily mean she would be literally locked in a metal coffin.
With a knot in the pit of her stomach, she slowly climbed out of the tub and
dried off. As she didn’t have any clothes, she opened several of his drawers
and finally found one containing T-shirts. She slid it over her head and
inhaled his scent which clung to it. She knew it was the smell of detergent,
but it was the smell she associated with him.

Climbing
into the bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin. She wondered where he’d
gone… and if he was coming back. She was so tired and her head was pounding. Tired
and bitterly cold. She glanced at the table and saw her prescription on the nightstand.
She looked at it for a long moment. Scrambling up once again, she struggled to
get the cap off the bottle. After shaking the tablets into her shaking hands,
she struggled to get the cap back on. In the end, she just sat it back on the
table with the cap just sitting on it, not closed. Quickly, she swallowed the
tablets with some bottled water. She felt as weak as a kitten and slightly
uncoordinated. As she placed the water back on the table, it bumped against the
prescription bottle and the pills scattered. She stared at them laying all over
the table and carpet. She just didn’t have the energy to pick them up. Curling
her body into a tight ball, she was ice-cold, and she shivered as she huddled
under the covers.

Lynx
worked for several hours in his study. No matter what his family thought, their
empire did not run itself. Once he’d done all he could, he poured himself a
drink and sat back behind his desk. He sipped the drink and wondered what to do
about the woman upstairs, who, he assumed lay snuggled in his bed. He sighed.
They were in such a no-win situation. It was easy for him to tout trust and
truth, when he knew he could only provide one of those himself. Maybe he’d been
too hard on her. Just as he wanted to keep some things to himself, wasn’t she
allowed her secrets? He gave a rough shake of his head. No, this was different.
He needed to know about the attack. She needed to tell him so he could keep her
safe. And if the vision hadn’t been about the attack, what could it have been
about that she’d refused to tell him

I’m
not a freak, she’d cried earlier. She’d told him what had happened to her
family due to her mother’s visions. He wondered what had happened to her to
make her feel like a freak. She’d gone through a lot in her short life, more
than most. She’d lost everyone who’d meant something to her – in one form or
the other. Guilt burned a hole in his stomach. God, he was a monster. The poor
girl had just been attacked and left for dead and here he was giving her
speeches about trust and truth. He should be horse-whipped.

Rolling
to his feet, he sat his glass down and bounded up the marble staircase. He
quietly opened the door and stepped into the darkening room. His foot stepped on
something and it cracked. Bending down, he lifted an empty prescription bottle
from the floor. He stared at it for a long moment. Fear coated his skin in an
icy-sheen. He moved toward the bed swiftly, calling her name.

She
was curled up under the comforter. He dragged her out.
Oh, God
, fear stabbed at his heart. “Not again, not again,” he
muttered over and over. She was still breathing.
Thank, God
. He began to slap against her face as he called her
name. It took several moments before she began to show any signs of life. She
tried to squirm away from him so she could slide back into sleep. He continued
to call her name and began to shake her.

Slowly,
her heavy eye-lids rolled open. She struggled to focus on him.
“Lynx,” she finally mumbled.

“Arabella!”
He gathered her to him and squeezed her tight, pain lancing his body. It was
then he noticed the pills on the table and floor. He stopped and stared at
them. Had she simply knocked them over? He put her back down and began to scoop
them up. He gave a hasty count. There didn’t appear to be many missing. He sat
blinking down at her as she slept. He didn’t think he could do this. She could
die at any time. She was a fragile human.

He
tucked the comforter back around her and rose from the bed. He walked to the balcony
and walked to its edge. He could turn her, make her one of them. His lips
thinned. He didn’t want that for her, she deserved better. Hadn’t she already
suffered enough for one lifetime? Besides, didn’t she deserve the right to choose
this type of existence? Or not?

She
slowly blinked her eyes opened. The early morning sun had her snapping them
back closed. She tried once again, and this time she managed to keep them open.
She glanced over and realized Lynx hadn’t slept in the bed all night. Trust and
truth, he’d said. She wondered where he’d slept. She gathered the plush
comforter around her still-chilled body and shuffled out through the opened
balcony doors.

She
stopped when she saw him asleep, stretched out on the chaise-lounge chair. He
lay with one arm slung over his eyes and the other rested against his middle.
She sat down quietly in a chair across from him. She’d never had an opportunity
to just look at him without him overwhelming her. His dark hair was tousled and
shiny in the early morning light. His face was relaxed and his lips were parted
slightly as he breathed in deeply. She wondered why he’d chosen to sleep out
here instead of with her. Old insecurities flared within her.

She
turned her gaze to a field where several horses stood grazing, and chewed on
her thumbnail. So much had happened of late, so much that she’d not really had
time to absorb everything – both good and bad. She’d lost Ian, but gained Lynx,
(at least, she thought she still had him). She’d lost Drew and if she’d didn’t
get back to work, she was going to lose a lot more. She shivered at the thought
of being out of Lynx’s protection. She shook her head. She’d been on her own
for nearly a year. She wasn’t some weak-willed female who needed a man to take
care of her. She wanted him, yes; was crazy about him, yes; but she didn’t want
to
need
him.

“Come
here,” Lynx’s voice had her jerking her head back in his direction.

She
studied his cool, hooded gaze. She pointed to herself in a motion which
bespoke,
who me
?

“Yes,
you. Come here,” he said with more demand.

She
rose, drawing the comforter closer around herself. He scooted over when she got
near, and opened his arm to her. She crawled in, unashamed at her delight to do
so. He placed the comforter over the both of them, turned them on their sides
and spooned her from behind.

As
was becoming his custom, with his face buried in hair, he murmured, “Arabella,
my Arabella.”

“I
didn’t know if you were still speaking to me or not,” she said quietly.

He
brushed his lips against the back of her neck and she felt the tingle down to
her toes. “Why would you doubt it?” he asked, as he nibbled against her ear.

She
shrugged and squirmed back into his hard body. “I was in there… and you’re out
here.”

“I
worked late and didn’t want to wake you, but wanted to be close by if you
needed me.”
 
He slid his hands up under
the white, cotton T-shirt she wore. “Umm, I do love it when you wear my
shirts.”

She
closed her eyes when his hand found her breast and gently plucked against its
rosy peak.

“About
yesterday…” she began.

“Forget
about yesterday,” he growled. “You are entitled to whatever secrets you want…
as long as it doesn’t affect your safety,” he said as he kissed across her
shoulder, “or us,” he lifted her arm and kissed across her ribs.

She
bowed her head in relief, unaware of how tense she’d been before his words.
She’d seen her whole life how people reacted to her mother’s visions. She’d
never wanted to get into that trap. It was hard enough to have that stuff in
her own head, but to have to try and explain it to someone else - especially if
it had to do with them – was worse.

“Is
the honeymoon over already,” he grumbled against the flat planes of her belly.

“What?”
she asked as she threaded her fingers within his hair.

“Where
are you?” he asked as he flipped her onto her back and crawled up over her.

She
slid her hands up under his shirt to run her fingers over the toned muscles
covering his ribs. “With you,” she said, meaning much more than just
physically.

“That’s
my girl,” he said with a grin. Rising from the lounge quickly, he bent down,
picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder. Her head spun at the sudden
movement and she squealed. He carried her back into the bedroom and placed her
gently on the bed.

He
cupped her face within his palms. “I’m always here if you need to talk to me
about anything. But I won’t pry, okay?”

“Okay.”
She ran her fingertips over his eyebrow. “Thank you,” she said with feeling.

“There’s
another way you can thank me,” he said with a salacious grin.

“How’s
that?”

“Get
naked. Now!” he said in mock seriousness.

~X~

They
were lying with their bodies intertwined on his gold sheets. He had his arms
wrapped around her, and her body curved into the niche he’d made with his own.
She pressed a kiss onto his hand. He made her feel safe. It made her remember
the glimpsing that had started their fight the day before. Trust and truth?
Okay, well, here goes nothing
, she
thought.

“I
dreamt I woke up and was in a metal box. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see
anything. I kept screaming for someone to let me out, but no one ever came. I
know it sounds so stupid, which is why I don’t like to talk about what I see.
They rarely make sense as I can’t see all of it. I was scared,” she said, as
she tugged his arms tighter around her.