Understanding rose up to slap her in the face. He was at a
ball, with a living girl, enjoying himself, just as he should. Of course he’d
not told her. It just showed how kind he truly was. He would not hurt her like
that. But she was injured.
She could not, and did not blame him. It was his right to
dwell amongst the living. She was the one out of place. She was the one who did
not belong.
Tessa had no other choice but to flee. “Home. I must get
back home.” But as she drifted from room to room in this fine dwelling she did
not know where to go, or how to return from where she’d come.
Stopping in an elegantly furnished sitting room, she thought
back to what had happened. She’d been dancing, thinking of him…and then she’d
said his name. Perhaps that was the key.
“Home. Home,” she whispered. “I want to go home.”
Pacing the chamber, she repeated, “Home.”
“Home.” Tessa felt her hands ball into fists. “Please,
please, may I go home?”
Was she to be left to haunt this place instead? “Oh, no,
this cannot be.”
“Please,” she begged again. “Might I go anywhere but here
with these strangers? Her heart twisted, she wished to be with her parents, but
knew that would never happen unless she was able to pass on to the next life.
And since she did not know how to do that, she wished to be back inside her
enchanted chamber at…. “To Lord Krestly’s castle.”
That attempt failed too. She remained where she was in this
strange place. Alone.
Growing desperate, she continued, “I will stay locked inside
my chamber. I will not trouble him again.” She pinched her eyes tightly closed
and wished, and prayed.
Yet when she opened them, she’d again not moved.
“Home,” she whispered another time as she sank to the floor
and tugged her knees close to her chest.
“Home.”
“I will go to Heaven or Hell, which ever I deserve. Please
do not leave me here,” she bargained, pled. Images of that girl swam up in
front her. The look of disdain as the lady in yellow stared at her, touching
him as if he belonged to her, troubled Tessa. It was as if she meant to say,
How dare
you
even exist? And the maiden was quite beautiful. It was no
wonder she appealed to him with such brilliant blue eyes shining out from a
perfectly pale face.
She was forgotten, and utterly lost. “He does not want me. I
beg of Thee,” she prayed. “Take me from this life. Oh, God, please do not
forsake me.”
Her cheek dropped to her knees and she cried.
Chapter
12
Amongst
the Living
He twisted the knob and pushed open the paneled door to the
room containing her, slowly, hoping she wouldn’t run again.
Emotion stung the back of his eyelids with the sight that
greeted him. Against the wall, in an empty sitting room sat his little ghost
embracing her bent legs as she whispered, “Home,” over and over again.
“Contessa?” She started at that, and her tear-soaked eyes
met his. “Please, darling, may we talk?”
He slipped his hands from his gloves and tucked them into
his pocket. When Christian crouched down in front of her and reached for her
chin, she turned her face away. So instead he brushed one curled finger over
her wet cheek.
“Why?” He heard her say softly.
“Why was I dancing with that girl?”
Tessa shook her head. “Why am I here?”
“I don’t know the answer to that. I thought you were trapped
at the castle.”
“I had thought so too.” Hesitantly, she finally returned her
gaze to his. “I was alone…”
In his bedchamber. He knew that hadn’t gone over well.
She continued, “After searching for you, and not finding
you, I called your name, and then suddenly I was here.”
“And that’s why you were whispering ‘home’ earlier?”
“Yes, I thought if I said it then I would return.”
Because, he’d again upset her, he thought, suspecting that
was the reason she clearly wanted to leave.
Then her focus slid away from his face, and she asked, “Why
were you dancing with that maiden?”
Christian sighed and rolled his eyes. “My mother insisted I
waltz with her. And I must please her if I expect to resume collecting an
allowance.”
Obviously, Contessa understood this all too well. “She
expects you to marry.”
“I’m afraid she does.”
“So then you were courting her.”
“Certainly not!” He attempted to drop his volume to a more
soothing sound. “I do not want her. I don’t even like her. Not even remotely.”
“Marriage is not about that.”
“Times are changing, Tessa.” His knees lowered to the rug,
and his right palm braced against the wall beside her. “It is true that some
marry by contract. It remains a business transaction for many, but a new trend
has begun. It has become vogue to marry for love.”
Those emerald eyes of hers grew. “You do not love the pretty
maiden dressed in yellow?”
He wanted to emphasize his simple “no” with a strong
vulgarity, but resisted the impulse in front of her. Then his insides twisted,
he had to tell her the truth. Eventually he would be forced to marry or he
would never gain his allowance and then he’d be required to leave Krestly Castle. Swallowing the enormous lump lodged in his throat, he began, “I fear I must
marry though, at some point. My parents expect it of me. I’m deeply sorry,
Tessa, I know it is not fair for you to have to watch it.”
Air trembled out of her, and her green eyes were hidden
beneath thick lashes. Sadly, Christian knew he would not get them back.
He continued, “I truly regret these words, but I need a
corporeal wife, Contessa. I may choose love, but I must choose it quickly.”
Tessa jerked as if his words had been a physical strike.
“I’m so very sorry, I truly am. But we can never be.” He
felt exactly as though he’d taken a blade to his own heart with those words,
and knew they cut her just as deeply.
Oh,
bloody hell.
“I understand,” she said on a sob, stabbed him once with
those heart-wrenching eyes of hers, stood, flew through his body, and made for
the door. But to his utter bewilderment she crashed into the wood with a
resounding thump. He was dizzy from standing so abruptly.
“What just happened?” he asked, moving toward her as she
flattened her hands against the surface, peered franticly over her shoulder,
dropped her eyes to the doorknob and then with renewed desperation slid her
palm down the door to the rounded mechanism.
She still meant to leave him, yet....
Her thin fingers curved around the metal, twisted, and then
tugged. But the door did not move because he’d planted his hand on the edge of
the wood to prevent her from escaping.
She gave the knob another yank, then noticed his arm angled
past her ear and stared at it. Slowly and while trembling, she turned to face
him.
He had her trapped now, he mused, as his right hand came up
to settle on the other side of her head. And his focus shifted to those lips…a
darker shade of pink…a delectable shade of rose. Fascinated, Christian could
feel her little breaths puff against his mouth. She smelled of honey and sweet
spices. He was close, very close, and he only needed to be a little bit closer.
Just one taste, he pondered, as his lips crushed against hers.
The poor girl jolted as if she’d been shocked by the touch
of his flesh. But he
reveled
in it and captured her gently by curling fingers around her slight upper arm,
and tangling the rest in her silken tresses. Then grinned, what he knew to be a
wolfish grin, against her mouth when her hands came up to his waist, and her
back lifted from the door, bringing her torso closer to his.
Replying to the silent request he answered with the weight
of his against hers, and deepened the kiss, tasting her, savoring her. He
couldn’t get enough, and felt like a starving man presented with a fine feast.
Faintly, he was aware that her hands had moved upward and
then she pushed.
With regret, he wrenched his mouth from her, only to drop
his forehead against hers. “Oh, Tessa, darling, I’ve wanted that for so long.”
He captured her upturned face between his palms. “What has happened? How is
this so?”
Trembling hands rose to cover his against her cheeks, and
then with unsteady movements of her fingers, she explored the texture of his
skin. Her awed expression made him wonder if she could be in tactile overload.
Again, he had to kiss her, just had to. She followed the
movement of his mouth with her eyes as he swooped in toward her face. Her
lashes shuttered as though she were drugged, their lips met just long enough
for it to be a shock when he
conked
his forehead onto the wooden door.
“What?” Christian lurched backward and rubbed the tender
spot, then looked at her. She was still between him and the door, yet…. “No.”
His other hand no longer rested comfortably against her soft cheek, but against
air.
Because, as before, she was untouchable. No longer was she
flesh and blood, but a spirit.
“No,” he growled again. “Come back to me, darling.” He
reached for her arms, he wanted to shake her, make her stay in his living
world. “How did you do that?”
She shook her head, her eyes swimming with confusion. “I did
not d-do anything.” Another tear escaped and coursed a path to her chin. “I was
as surprised as you.”
The droplet of moisture clung to her, although threatening
to drop. He couldn’t let it get away and passed his thumb over the spot. But
this time his digit met with hot skin. Christian, fearing she would get away
from him again, threw his arms around her and jerked her into an embrace, only
to have her vanish from his hold once more.
Struggling to control his breathing, his fingers curled into
fists and he pondered, How could this be? Why…? What could he do? He lifted his
hand with his palm toward her and said quietly, “Touch me.”
She looked apprehensive as her right hand rose to meet his,
as her eyes locked with his and their palms met. But it was only flesh to
spirit. He really could not understand this. “Contessa—” His next words never
made it past his teeth, because just as quickly as he’d uttered her name did
she become living again. And then he understood, or suspected…. “This happens
when I speak your name.”
In wonder, Christian’s focus left her face and moved to their
hands as his fingers interlocked with hers and then folded down around her
hand. So small. So warm. So soft. He could feel the smile controlling his
mouth. So
his
….
In curiosity, he lifted his other hand to the pulse point on
her wrist and pressed his thumb firmly to the spot. Each solid pump of her
heart thumped against the pad of his digit. This is real.
“How long will you stay like this?”
She exhaled, and again he felt her breath brush across his
face. “I know not,” she whispered in a voice that was distinctly solid compared
to how she’d sounded before.
He gave her hand a squeeze. This time, she stayed in his
corporeal world, but they waited. Just in case.
Moments passed in quiet anticipation.
Pleased and hopeful, Christian lifted her wrist to his mouth
and touched it to his lips to check again. That pulse point was just as alive,
just as active as a few beats ago.
“It seems you’re here for good this time.” He paused to
tease a bit of her honeyed tresses around his forefinger, and it was just as
soft as he’d imagined it would be. A grin spread across his mouth. “Contessa,
darling, might I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Chapter
13
Shall
we?
“Here? At this ball? Y-you want me to dance with you?”
“Please?”
“In this chamber, or out amongst the others?”
“I can’t very well show you off in here.”
Panic twisted in the pit of her stomach, and the sensation
made her feel queasy. Her palm rose to her middle. She’d noticed how the other
ladies had been dressed and also knew she would not fit in. “But,” she peered
at her naked fingers tangled with his, “the others wore gloves. How would I…?
What would people think? I’m dressed as a bride.”
Gently, without releasing her hand, he turned her so he
could see the veil fastened in her hair. The heat of his touch burned right
through the silk of her gown and scalded her skin. The pressure of his fingers
sinking into her flesh was an unfamiliar sensation, though deliciously welcome.
No, she thought, it
was
familiar, just forgotten. He removed the lace
adornment and with a deeply fascinated expression resurrecting his dimple he
rubbed the intricate material between his fingers. Then his gaze shifted to
their interlocked hands. His dark eyes brightened when he said, “I think you’re
lovely. However, I do see your point. Gloveless at a ball could be frowned
upon.” His eyes had remained fixed on their hands whilst his thumb moved along
the length of hers, as though he loved feeling the texture of her skin, yet also
knew it was not proper for him to do so.
She recalled what he’d said about this modern society and
how judgmental he’d said they were.
He went on, “I’ll go and fetch Emma. She’ll help.”
“Emma?”
“She’s my younger sister.”
“And here at the ball?”
“Well, she is in attendance, but at a separate soirée with
her little girlfriends. She is too young to attend the ball.”
Tessa felt her lips part, and he stared at the movement as
if mesmerized by it.
When she said nothing, he said, “She is but twelve.” He
stepped backward with a reluctant look in his eye. “Will you be all right for
just a moment? I want you to stay right here.”
She nodded like a round-eyed mute girl.
Christian gave her hand a gentle squeeze, led her to the
velvet-cushioned settee, encouraged her to sit, and then left.