Lacybourne Manor (42 page)

“
I wasn’t in my right
mind!” she cried. “I thought, just like when we were in the Summer
House, that tonight
I’d
turned you into Royce with my
magical powers.”

Then she stopped speaking for
he looked at her like a third eyeball had suddenly popped out of
her forehead.

Then he asked incredulously,
“Your what?”

She immediately felt a fool (or
more of a fool than she already was). She should never have told
him that. She closed her eyes slowly and wished she could grab the
words and stuff them back in her mouth.

She was tired, no, exhausted,
bone weary and, not to mention, frightened out of her mind. She
wasn’t thinking clearly, didn’t have her guard up.

This was too much,
he
was too
much.

Apparently, he
was
her
dream man, the one she’d been destined to find; the one who she was
fated to be with for five hundred years. He’d tested her fortitude,
resolve and moral perspicacity and she’d fallen at the first hurdle
by taking his money (a great deal of his money) the third time
she’d ever seen him. And for what? A minibus for oldies. If he
knew, he’d think she lost her mind, if she ever had one in the
first place. He’d likely be disgusted, it was almost better to let
him think she’d used it on herself. Considering his history with
women,
that
, at least, was something he’d understand.

“Please let me up,” she pushed
against his hands, not able to take a moment more.

“Will you stop fighting me and
talk to me, for Christ’s sake?” he exploded. Obviously, he’d
reached the end of his tether and her head snapped around to look
at him.

“Well I didn’t know!” she
cried.

“Know what?”

“
That you’d been given a
magical potion! I thought, well, I’d grown up with Mags always
telling me that there was magic in the air, in the trees, in the
rivers, yadda, yadda, yadda and I was dreaming of Royce and
Beatrice and
I didn’t
know
. I didn’t know who they were. I
thought it was
me!
I thought
I’d
brought Royce out in
you.”

Colin changed the subject and
his voice was lethal when he stated, “You knew it was him and you
let him kiss you.”

It was her turn to look to the
ceiling and make quick, desperate promises to the goddess for
rescue. Then, when no otherworldly aid arrived, she tugged once
more at his hands, using her legs as leverage, and she surged up
but, unfortunately, he followed her.

“Why did you let him kiss you?”
Colin pressed.

She was
not
going
to tell him about her dream lover, that she thought she was
creating Royce because she needed to believe. She had no idea what
this all meant, to her, to them, and she didn’t trust him enough
with that knowledge. It was too close to her heart, she barely knew
him, until tonight she didn’t know what he did for a living or that
he had a brother. He could have twelve more siblings for all she
knew. She knew his body intimately but Colin she barely knew at
all. Selling her sexual favours for minibuses and living her life
thinking she was destined for another was pure lunacy. He wouldn’t
want anything to do with her. He was night and she was day. His
parents were posh and hers were weird. His sister was sweet and
caring and hers was… well…
not
(exactly).

They didn’t suit.

She had to guard her
heart, or, at the very least, she had to know what this all meant
to
him
.

“What am I to you?” she asked
in response to his question.

“Don’t change the subject,
Sibyl,” he warned, his voice dangerously smooth.

“You want an answer then you
answer my question. I deserve that and you know it. What am I to
you now?”

“Why did you take the fifty
thousand pounds?”

“Goddess!” she exploded,
throwing out her arms. “Can’t you answer a single question?”

He glared at her.

She glared back.

Then she gave up.

“I’m going home,” she declared
and turned to leave, tired, sick at heart and wanting nothing but a
nice mug of hot cocoa and her mother’s shoulder to cry on. She
didn’t even care how pathetic that seemed for a thirty-two year old
woman. Luckily, fortune smiled on her (belatedly) and made it so
that her mother wasn’t over a thousand miles away but was right
downstairs.

She had forgotten, briefly and
absentmindedly, how ruthless Colin could be when he wanted
something.

And three steps away from the
door, she was swung up in his arms. She emitted a stunned cry as he
swiftly strode back across the room and then she was thrown on the
bed. Before she could get her arms and legs under control and
scramble off the other side, his weight settled on her, pinning her
to the bed.

“Do I have your attention?” His
voice was calm, his eyes were not. His chest was against hers, his
heavy, muscled thigh was thrown across both of hers and he was up
on one elbow, his other arm stretched across her and he was
scowling down at her with blazing eyes.

She gritted her teeth and
stared at him. It was futile to struggle. He had twice her
strength, maybe more. When he lifted his brows arrogantly, silently
demanding a response, she snapped, “Yes!”

“Good, now you’re going to
answer some questions.”

She pulled both her lips
between her teeth to stop herself from saying something
foolish.

“Why did you take the fifty
thousand pounds?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me? Is it
illegal?”

“No!”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No.”

“In debt?”

“No.”

She was losing her patience but
unfortunately so was he and his lost patience was a tad bit more
scary than hers.

“Sibyl.”

“I just can’t tell you, you’ll
think I’m…” she hesitated.

“What?”

“Crazy!” she cried.

“Crazier than you thinking you
turned me into Royce Morgan with your magical powers?”

She groaned, horrified and
humiliated.

Then she replied what she
thought was relatively logically, considering they were discussing
a real life, magical potion, “Well, it’s hardly crazier than how
you actually
did
turn into Royce Morgan or any of the other
things that I’ve learned tonight.”

He decided to ignore that and
persevered with his interrogation. “Why did you kiss him?”

She bit her lips again.

“Am I going to have to make you
talk?” he threatened silkily.

Her eyes rounded. She had
no idea how he would do that but she doubted, seriously, that it
would include physical violence. However, she did not doubt that it
would include
something
physical.

Then, for some reason, the
words flew out of her mouth, almost against her volition, and she
said something truly stupid, “It was between him and me.”

His eyes darkened dangerously
and a muscle leaped in his jaw and she knew in that moment that she
was really in trouble.

Before he could say
anything, or worse,
do
anything, there came another knock on the
door.

Colin closed his eyes in angry
frustration.

When he opened them, they were
blazing and Sibyl held her breath at the sight of them.

“
Do… not… bloody
well…
move,
” he bit out, shoved away from her and stalked to the
door.

She thought it best to do as he
said. The caged lion had definitely been freed.

He pulled the door open and,
luckily, it swung in such a way as to hide Sibyl from whoever was
on the other side. Sibyl closed her eyes as she heard the
conversation.

“If anyone else comes up here
–” Colin’s voice was barely controlled.

“Your mother, Claire and I are
going to Walton Park Hotel. I’m going to take the Godwin’s home
first.” Sibyl heard his father’s voice speaking, his tone
indicating solemn understanding at Colin’s plight.

“Fine,” Colin gritted out.

Sibyl sat up and looked across
the room at the back of the door, her face flaming.

“Is Sibyl all right?” Mike
asked quietly, his voice now filled with concern.

“She is right now,” Colin
answered his father, his words filled with foreboding.

There was a hesitation and then
muttered good-byes.

Colin closed the door with a
finality that rocked Sibyl and caused her to scramble to her knees
as Colin angrily moved toward the bed.

And, in an extreme act of
self-defence, she blurted out a semi-fib that was part truth and
part lie, “I’m not telling you about what happened between Royce
and me because…”

He stopped at the side of the
bed and stared down at her, his face a mask of fury. “Yes?” he
prompted.

“
Because of Royce, he
wasn’t even kissing
me
. He was kissing
her
.” She
wasn’t entirely certain that was exactly true, but she thought it
sounded good. “It was his moment to say good-bye and it seemed…”
She stopped, not able to find the word as Colin’s angry face didn’t
change one iota. She finally found it. “Private.”

“Sibyl.” He voiced her name
quietly.

“Yes?” she asked hopefully,
wishing very much to get in the car with Mike and her family and go
home to her bed, her thoughts and figure out what was to become of
her future.

“You’re a very bad liar.” His
voice was lethal.

Gone was her dream of
escape.

Especially when his arm shot
out and dragged her forward.

“Colin.”

He didn’t answer. To her
disbelief, he’d located the zipper at her back and, expertly, slid
it down.

“Colin!” She pushed against the
arm that was still around her waist as his other hand pulled her
dress up. She could just not believe he was undressing her. They
were arguing, for goddess’s sake!

His eyes locked on hers. “If
you fight me Sibyl, I swear to God –” he started.

“What am I to you?” She had to
know.

“Until you decide to start
talking, our deal stays as it is, you’re mine, for five
months.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Nothing had changed.

Not one thing.

Except, she knew she was the
one who could stop it if she just told him who she was, what she
was, why she took the fifty thousand pounds and all about her dream
of a true love.

And none of this she could tell
him. Not now, and, until she could trust him, maybe not ever. She’d
rather him leave her later, than now. She’d rather have a few
months of him, even angry, then just a few weeks. She couldn’t bear
to think of how he’d react if he knew the truth.

“It’s four months,” she
retorted as the skirt of her dress slid over her hips.

“Now, it’s six.”

She gasped.

“It’s four!”

“Seven,” he bit out.

She clamped her mouth shut and
he pulled the dress over her head, forcing her arms up with it. He
tossed it aside, his hands settled on her waist and then slid,
sending tingles in their wake, up her sides. He watched his hands
move on her as she struggled valiantly against the tingles (and
still lost).

“Are you stopping at seven?” he
enquired with mock politeness as if he was an auctioneer and she
was deciding what to bid.

She nodded, her head jerking
angrily.

“I bet Royce didn’t do this to
Beatrice.” She had no idea what drove her to say it, it was ugly
(not to mention stupid) and it didn’t sound right on her lips.

But Colin reacted strangely, he
chuckled but instead of sounding amused, it sounded grim. “He
should have, if he had, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

Then he pushed her to her back
and landed on top of her.

And then he did a variety of
delightful things to her where she didn’t have to think anything at
all.

The Storm is Over

Colin awoke before dawn knowing
something wasn’t right.

He rolled from his back to his
side and opened his eyes to see Sibyl sleeping all the way across
the expanse of the large bed, her back to him.

Regardless of the fact that he
was still half asleep, this annoyed him immensely. In the beginning
she had always slept with her back to him. However, since Mallory
had been tranquillised, she’d taken to curling her warm, soft body
against his every time they’d been together.

This was
not
a step
in the right direction.

Last night had definitely not
gone to plan mainly due to Sibyl’s extraordinary temper (even
though he knew this about her, he still underestimated it) and her
refusal to trust him with the truth about herself.

Colin was not about to take any
responsibility for what happened, he had kept Royce and Beatrice
from her for a reason which she had cottoned on to quickly and his
sister had helpfully, if rather irritatingly, confirmed and then
explained.

He, however, had taken great
pains to break it to her gently, with her loved ones around and
Marian Byrne there to impart the whole story (or the parts Colin
felt Sibyl should know). Not to mention, Colin showing her that she
had his family’s full support as well. None of which, he marked
with irritation, she actually noticed.

He couldn’t understand her
reaction because he knew she didn’t have a thing to hide. This was
something, however, he’d never tell her. If she found out he’d
investigated her, there would be hell to pay. He felt no
compunction at keeping this from her. He felt no compunction about
doing anything that would make this rough ride smoother, for both
of them. The fact that she had nothing to hide made it further
difficult to understand why she continued to keep it from him.