Magic by Moonlight (8 page)

“And love?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Alexandre
smiled. “When love comes,
it
will become my life. For true
love alone, would I lay down my sword. Until that day comes I am
happy to fight for right and the honor of the king. Each day brings
a new challenge, a new adventure.”

“A new woman...?”

His smile changed to one filled with
mischief. “Sometimes. A warrior never knows which day will be his
last, so he tends to make the most of his nights. But sex is not
love, my Lady Hammer. Those moonlight trysts meant nothing, neither
to me nor to the ladies involved. And I think you are wise enough
to know this.”

She wondered if it would mean anything if
she
were “the lady involved.” Then told herself it didn’t
matter. He stepped closer, brushing a damp tendril of hair from her
face. “You are tired now, and it has grown late. We should
rest.”

Her throat went dry. “All right.”

Al stoked the fire, then laid the saddles on
the ground to use as pillows. He put them very close together, she
noticed. Then he picked up his long coat. Stretching out on the
ground, he pulled the coat over him, then held one side up and
looked at her. “Come, Mary Catherine. You know you’ve nothing to
fear.”

“I know,” she said, maybe a tad defensively.
“I’m not afraid.” Or if she was, it wasn’t for the reasons he was
thinking. Lying so close to him all night long—and not touching
him—was going to be a challenge. It wasn’t Al she was worried
about, it was herself. Did women come on to men in his time? What
would he think of her if she—

What was she thinking? He was the one
obsessed with sex, not her. And since he’d vowed not to touch her
until his role as protector was fulfilled, she didn’t have a thing
to worry about.

Did she?

“Mary Catherine?”

His brows were arched as he lay there
waiting for her, looking like a centerfold—except that he had his
clothes on. M. C. sighed and went to him, slid underneath the coat,
and laid her head on the saddle.

“Good night, my lady. Sleep well.”

“ ‘Night, Al,” she said, but she didn’t
think she was going to sleep.

She did. Must have, because when she woke
up, her head was no longer pillowed by the saddle, but by something
far warmer, soft and firm at the same time, and with a much nicer
smell.

She opened her eyes to the brilliance of
dawn, and realized what it was. Al’s chest. And his arms were
wrapped around her, one hand buried in her hair. One of her legs
had decided to rest atop both of his, and her arms were twined
around his waist.

He smelled good. God, he did, and he was so
warm and hard underneath her. She lifted her head, wondering if she
could slip away before he woke. But when she looked at his eyes,
she found them open, staring into hers, a fire burning in their
depths.

“
Mon Dieu,”
he whispered. “You
are...so beautiful.”

His lips were only inches from hers, and
pulling her closer, like magnets. Drawing her. She didn’t fight it.
She let her mouth be tugged to his until their lips touched. And
then Al’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed her. His mouth
pushed at hers until she opened to him, then his tongue slid inside
to lick and caress. She’d never known her mouth could be such an
erogenous zone. She’d never been kissed like this. Tenderness and
passion at once. She wanted him. It hit her like a bullet between
the eyes. She wanted to make love to this man. Here. Now.

She was practically on top of him now, and
as he continued kissing her, she moved the rest of the way. Her
legs straddled his, and she felt his arousal pressing hard between
them. But then his hands came to her shoulders, and gently, he
lifted her away.

“Never,” he whispered, “has temptation been
so difficult to resist.”

“For me, either.” She leaned forward to kiss
him again, but he held her away.

“Yet resist I must.” He closed his eyes, as
if in pain. “But if desire can kill a man, I’ll not live much
longer.”

“Al, don’t...”

“We mustn’t. It was my vow, long ago—the
code by which I’ve lived. I am your protector until you are safe.
And only that.”

M. C. went stiff, staring down at him in
disbelief. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“If I make love to you now, Mary Catherine,
my thoughts will be of nothing else for days to come. I will be
distracted, even weakened by a desire this fierce, the memory of a
pleasure sweeter than any I’ve known.
No
...I cannot.”

M. C. rolled off him and got to her feet.
“Fine. That’s just fine with me, Al. I didn’t want to anyway!”

“I have hurt you.” He rose and came to stand
behind her, his hands massaging her shoulders. “Make no mistake,
ma chérie,
were it not for my vow, for honor’s sake, I—”

“Oh, to hell with you and your damned
honor.”

She pulled away, busied herself dousing the
dwindling fire, scooping dirt over the coals.

“You do not mean that.”

“Let’s just get out of here, okay? Let’s
just find a phone, call the D.A., and set up the appointment.”

He stood where he was. “This is as difficult
for me as for you, Mary Catherine.”

She ignored him, embarrassed, downright
stung by his rejection. “We’ll have to find a car. Can’t use Aunt
Kate’s even if no one’s found it by now. The cops have probably
called her by now—they’d have traced the plate number and—”

Mary Catherine stopped talking and bit her
lip. “Oh my God.”

Al was beside her in a second, his hands
gripping her shoulders again. “What it is?”

“The license plate. Oh, God, why didn’t I
think of this last night? Al, Guido saw that plate. He can probably
track down the car’s owner as easily as the police can!”

“Your aunt?” he asked, looking worried.

“She could be in danger. We have to call
her, Al, tell her to get out of the house and lay low for a while.”
She looked into his eyes, shook her head as a ball of dread formed
in the pit of her stomach. “And we’d better do it fast.”

*

The woman was a bundle of contradictions.
First she denied wanting him, a habit which had begun to make him
doubt himself for the first time in recent memory. Then she’d made
it all too clear that she
did
want him. And then she’d
become angry, unable, or perhaps—as stubborn as she
was—
unwilling
to understand his reasons. But all of that had
fallen by the wayside when she’d realized she might have
inadvertently put her aunt in danger.

As they rode side by side, he watched her.
The way her eyes took on such intensity when she was worried. The
way the wind tossed her dark hair and the morning sun made it
gleam.

He’d wanted many women, had most of them.
But never had he felt anything like what he was feeling now. It
wasn’t just stronger, it was different. An entirely new brand of
desire he’d never felt before. And it left him with the odd sense
that everything he’d experienced before had been only a faint
foreshadowing of this...this new and powerful feeling.

Would it fade once they’d given in to its
demand and made love together? That was the way it usually worked
for Alexandre. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the same this
time. Nothing seemed the same this time.

When they finally arrived back at the farm,
the farmer greeted them with a smile and a wave from his front
porch. Mary Catherine was off her mount almost before it came to a
stop, and heading up the steps. “Please,” she said breathlessly, “I
need to use your phone. I’ll pay you for the call, but—”

“Sure, sure. Come on inside. So how was your
ride? The horses look none the worse for wear.”

Mary Catherine didn’t answer, just hurried
past him and into the house. Alexandre watched as the farmer leaned
through the door and pointed, then turned to face him again,
grinning expectantly.

Alexandre dismounted and took another gold
coin from his pocket, handing it to the man.

“Thank you kindly,” the older man said,
smiling.

Al nodded and turned to remove the
saddles.

“Oh, now, don’t you bother with that.”

“The animals are hot,” Al said. “They need
to be rubbed down.”

“And Tony will take care of it,” the farmer
insisted. Then he cupped his hands and yelled, and a young man
emerged from the barn. As he hurried across the lawn toward the
house, the farmer said, “See, I took them coins you gave me
yesterday into town this morning and had ‘em appraised. When I
found out what they were worth, I figured I could afford to hire me
a hand around here.”

Alexandre frowned. Perhaps Mary Catherine
had been right about the coins’ value.

Tony arrived, looked at the horses, then at
the farmer. “These are the ones? When’s the last time they were
groomed, anyway?”

“Been a while,” the farmer said, chuckling.
“Tony here is real experienced with horses. He’ll have ‘em in
tip-top shape in no time.”

Alexandre saw the way the boy’s hands were
already moving over the animals’ coats. It was obvious he not only
knew about horses, but cared about them. At least one good thing
had come of his visit here.

Then the bang of the door drew his gaze, and
he saw Mary Catherine standing there, looking pale and
wide-eyed.

“What is it,
chérie!
Did you reach
your aunt with the telephone device?”

She nodded, closed her eyes. “Guido de Rocci
answered the phone.”

Alexandre shook his head, not certain he
understood.

“He’s there, at her house, Al,” she went on.
“He has her, and he won’t let her go unless we give him the
tape.”

There was no time to find another car. M. C.
backed Aunt Kate’s Buick out of the farmer’s dim, dusty barn
without a thought about how many cops might spot it on the road. If
she saw flashing lights behind her on the way, she would keep right
on going.

“It will be all right,” Al said softly,
touching her shoulder, drawing her gaze.

She glanced his way as she drove, saw the
concern in his eyes. But not for Aunt Kate. His worry was for her,
and for what she might be feeling right now. “How can you be so
sure of that?” M. C. asked. “For all we know Aunt Kate could
already be—”

“No.” Al said it firmly. “De Rocci isn’t
stupid. He wants to trade your aunt for this tape. He cannot do
that unless he keeps her alive.”

M. C. tried to keep her eyes on the road,
tried to keep her speed to within ten miles an hour above the speed
limit, though every instinct was to press the pedal to the floor.
If she showed up with cops in tow, the whole thing could turn into
a standoff, with her odd. eccentric aunt playing hostage. Aunt Kate
would be in far less danger this way.

“What do you want to do when we get there?”
Al asked softly.

She glanced at him again, surprised that he
would ask. He was the expert in fighting here. But she was the
expert on modern goons like de Rocci. “I don’t think we have a
choice, Al. I’ll have to give him the tape.”

Al’s lips pursed.

“What?” she asked. “You think it’s the wrong
decision, don’t you?”

“I think...you’re wrong about one thing. We
do
have a choice. And we have to make it carefully. Mary
Catherine, do you really think de Rocci will let you or your aunt
leave that house alive once he has the tape?”

M. C. sighed, grating her teeth. Al was
right. He was so right. “No, he won’t. He can’t. We’d have him dead
to rights on unlawful imprisonment, breaking and entering, maybe
assault. And he has to know I can testify as to what I heard on
that tape, even if the tape itself is long gone.”

“Then we cannot turn it over.”

“But Al, what else can we do? He’s there,
and you can bet he’s not alone. He knows we’re coming, and he’ll be
watching for us. How can we...?”

“There’s always a way, Mary Catherine. Trust
me.”

She looked into Al’s eyes, and realized that
she did trust him. She’d trust him with her life. When the hell had
she decided to believe in him this much? But no matter, she had.
And she nodded to tell him so.

“Good,” he said. “And let us not forget,
your aunt Kate is not
entirely
without resources of her
own.”

They left the car nearly a mile from the
house, hidden behind a neighbor’s hedges on a side road. Then they
walked. And not on the narrow lanes of the
suburban-leaning-toward-rural town of Craven Falls, either. They
crossed back lawns and vacant lots, skirting the edges of trees and
bushes and woodlots where they could. And soon the gothic white
elephant was in sight. Flat roof, widow’s walk in need of another
coat of white paint, curlicues of wood trim everywhere. Tall,
narrow windows, their curtains drawn tight like closed eyes, as if
the house were sound asleep.

A parked car with two men inside sat
opposite Aunt Kate’s driveway. A shadowy form lurked just beyond
the back door. From their position behind some trees in the back
lawn, they could glimpse him when he moved.

“They’ll have a man at the front door as
well,” Al said. “What we need is another way inside. But first”—he
glanced toward the car out front—“we should eliminate some of the
contenders.”

“Even up the odds,” M. C. said. “Gotcha. I
can take care of the ones in the car, Al. All I need is a roll of
duct tape, a length of garden hose, and a pair of shears.” She
glanced around. “I imagine I can find all of that in the
toolshed.”

Taking her arm, he started toward the shed,
but she shook her head at him. “No. Look, try to get a look inside,
make sure Aunt Kate’s okay. I can handle this part alone.”

He frowned. “I think we should stay
together, lady. It would be safer.”

“I’m a big girl, Al. And I’m worried about
my aunt. Please, I’ll feel so much better knowing you’re close by,
keeping an eye on her.”