Passions of the Ghost (12 page)

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Authors: Sara Mackenzie

BOOK: Passions of the Ghost
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He told himself he didn’t have a choice.

 

Amy stood by the bar in her slinky black
dress and high heels, simmering. She was furious. How dare they fight over her like that! As if she was some sort of prize in a raffle. She’d agreed to Jez’s plan, she’d been prepared to do it, no matter what it cost her where Rey was concerned, and now they’d humiliated her with a public brawl.

She was sick and tired of them both! Jez and his schemes and lies, and Rey with his eagle girlfriend and the seven-hundred-year wrong he had to right. Serve them right if she walked out on them here and now and never—

“Amee…”

Oh God, it was Nicco. How could she possibly play her part now, after what had happened? She clenched her hands around her glass and wished him far, far away.

Nicco slid his fingers over the bare skin of her back, making her want to cringe and shrink away from his touch. Somehow she forced herself to turn and face him.

“You are so beautiful tonight.” Nicco was oblivious to her emotional state, but that made sense—all he ever thought about was himself.

She was about to tell him she had a headache, when she noticed Rey, watching them from a safe distance. For a moment she was disoriented, struck dumb by him, just as she’d been the first time she saw him. Perhaps she could go over to him and explain, make everything all right, perhaps…

It was no use. No explanation would ever change what she was. Amy hardened her resolve to destroy completely any feeling he had for her. And there was one way to do that, wasn’t there? She looked at Nicco and gave him her sultriest smile.

“Nicco, babe, where have you been?”

He leaned one hand against the bar and smiled back. “A little injury.”

“Oh, does that mean you’re out of action?”

“It is nothing.”

“Jez said you hurt your back. I hope it isn’t too painful?”

“When I see you I feel no pain,” he announced, gallantly.

“I’m sure that’s not true. I have some antiinflammatories in—”

“I am fine,” he cut her short with a hint of impatience. He moved closer, his thigh brushing against hers. “I want you, Amee,” he murmured huskily. “You are a woman who can drive men wild.”

With Nicco’s drawling, affected voice in her ear, Amy found herself looking up again, toward Rey. He was still watching, and he looked angry. Very angry. But whether he was angry with her or Nicco, she wasn’t sure.

At least he couldn’t slice them in two with his sword—it was safely upstairs in her room. Or send them to his dungeon—the dungeon wasn’t in use these days, except as an all-night coffee shop. In fact there wasn’t very much he could do at all, which was probably why he looked so cross.

Nicco was still whispering sweet nothings into her ear, but now he had his hand on the curve of her hip, sweaty and heavy.

This is your chance. Ask him about the diamond now. Tease him, go to his room, let him make love to you. You can do it. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again.

He leaned into her, kissing her neck, and she felt his erection prod her in the belly. A wave of panicked sickness washed over her, and she knew, as she’d known all along but wouldn’t admit it, that she couldn’t do it.

Not for Jez and not for anyone.

“Nicco,” she said, knowing he wasn’t going to take this very well, “I’m worried about your back. I don’t want you to do any more damage to it.”

“My back is fine,” he said, his mouth still cruising.

“Nicco, this will sound strange, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

He chuckled. “Amee, I will change it back again.”

“Nicco, I’m not in the mood. I need to be alone for a while, just to think. A man of your experience would be understanding, I know.”

“You don’t need to be alone, Amee,” he drawled, unconvinced. “Not when I can make you feel so much better.”

“Nicco, honestly, I don’t want to do this.”

“Babe,” he groaned, “I’m hard for you.” His hand was creeping up her ribs, stroking the underside of her breast.

“Nicco, I’m warning you,” she gasped, pulling away and almost falling over in her heels. He caught her arm to steady her.

“You’re warning
me
? Oh, I’m frightened.” He giggled like a girl.

“Nicco, this is not—”

“You are fire, and I long to burn in your arms. Come to my room, Amee, I have something to show you.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Something you will like very much.”

Oh God.
“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to go to your room,” she told him, very clearly, in case he tried to pretend he misunderstood.

“I can make you feel things you have never felt before.”

Amy opened her mouth. It was no use, he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want to listen. Nicco heard only what Nicco wanted to hear. She was wasting her time.

“Good-bye,” she said, and turned to walk away.

Nicco reached out and caught her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. “Oh no, you don’t. You are going the wrong way,” he said, in a tone that was meant to be playful. “Paradise is over here.”

Amy laughed in disbelief and began to walk away a second time.

This time he didn’t bother with foreplay. He pulled her back against him, his hips hard against her bottom, and thrust against her as though he thought it was his right to handle her in front of everyone, right there in the middle of the Long Gallery.

Right there in front of Rey.

Amy lost it. In her best self-defense-class move, she grabbed hold of his arm and his hip, and tossed him. As he flipped over, she felt a rush of intense satisfaction. But as he hit the floor with an “Oomph” and lay flat on his back among the startled guests, satisfaction was replaced by horror. What had she done?

“Nicco?” she cried, moving to help him up. But it was too late. He slapped her hand away and crawled crablike away from her, all the while cursing her in a mangled mixture of Russian and English.

She’d failed Jez and Rey, and herself. She felt like a child again, knowing she could never please her father no matter what she did.

Amy turned and ran from the room.

 

 

Reynald could hardly believe his eyes. He’d seen Amy and Nicco together, talking. He’d watched them, knowing he shouldn’t, but somehow drawn to them and unable to help himself. It was like burning in the fires of hell, but he wanted to prove that he was right, and she wasn’t the woman she said she was. That she was his good, sweet Amy.

At first it seemed he would be disappointed. Amy had seemed very happy to see Nicco; she’d even let him press his hands and mouth to her. Reynald had clenched his fists, sick and furious. This was worse than any torture, he’d told himself. He’d been about to walk away, when he sensed a change in Amy. She was glancing toward him, and she was growing agitated.

Then Reynald had seen Nicco grab hold of her. He started toward her with the intention of saving her, but she hadn’t needed saving. She’d taken hold of Nicco and thrown him to the ground as if he were nothing more than a bag of straw. He’d never seen a woman do such a thing before, but he’d forgotten that Amy was like no other woman he had ever known. He wanted to cheer for her.

But then he’d seen her face as she ran past him.

She was suffering. Perhaps she really was everything she had told him she was, a liar and a cheat and a woman who used her body as a means of gaining what she wanted. But right now she needed him.

Reynald knew that it was he, of all the men in her life, past and present, and he alone who could soothe her pain. Just as it was only Amy who could save him from an eternity in the between-worlds. They needed each other, and he must make her understand, and accept, that truth.

Reynald strode after her.

 

 

She’d left the door ajar, but Reynald didn’t allow himself to believe she’d done it on purpose. For him. As he stepped quietly inside, he could hear her, sobbing.

Until then he hadn’t thought of her as a woman who wept when her pain was great. His mother had often cried, but she was not strong like Amy. He knew now that Amy was forged in fire, like a sword, and she would never break. Or so he had thought. And now here she was, sobbing as if her heart was in pieces.

He couldn’t bear it.

The sound was tearing him in two.

“Amy?” he said, venturing another step inside, and then another.

She stopped crying. “Go away,” she ordered in a husky voice.

“I cannot go away, not while you are upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Oh, Amy…”

“Don’t you understand? Can’t I get through to you? I don’t
want
you, Rey. I never have.”

He sighed. “Whether you want me or not, damsel, I will stay by you. Just as you stayed by me.”

She groaned and pounded her fists into the mattress with such fury that he thought she’d injure herself. “Why do men never listen?”

“If you really want me to leave, then you must throw me out,” he told her. “Come, I will not struggle.”

“I could throw you out, Rey. You saw what I did to Nicco.”

“Aye,” he replied, with great satisfaction.

She chuckled wetly. “Oh God, what a mess.” Then she flopped over onto her back and wiped her face with her fingers, like a child. “Did you see the look on Nicco’s face? I’ve blown it now; he’ll never forgive me. And neither will Jez. He trusted me, and I’ve let him down. All the times he got me out of trouble, and I couldn’t even do this one last thing for him.”

All amusement had fallen from her, and she lay there, very sober, her eyes filled with misery.

“Your loyalty is commendable, damsel.”

Carefully, Reynald sat down beside her on the bed. He didn’t want to frighten her, and he didn’t want her to send him away. He felt her need of him, tight, in his chest, and it overruled his confusion. He didn’t know how he could feel this way about a woman who, in his own time, would be so unworthy of him. He just knew he wanted to stay.

After a moment she spoke again into the silence.

“You hate me, don’t you, Rey? Look, I don’t blame you. You are so…so good. Honorable, that’s how I think of you. I could never be like you. I admire you, though, Rey. I really do. You have no idea how much I wish…” Her lips trembled, and she shook her head. “Well, what’s the point in wishing for something I can’t have?”

Reynald shook his head, too. “Amy, I apologize. You love your brother, I see that now, and you want to help him. You have set aside all that is right, to do so. That is a sacrifice of the greatest kind. I don’t think I would have the courage to do such a thing.”

Reynald felt as if his head was pounding, torn apart by the conflict within him. He had seen with his own eyes the sort of woman Amy was, and she had told him she was a bad person. And yet…his heart was telling him something else, to look beneath the words and her past actions, to the woman sitting before him right now.

Amy was looking up at him intently, biting her lips to stop them from trembling. Waiting.

“It’s okay, Rey,” she whispered. “I don’t expect absolution. I don’t want it; I am what I am.”

He shook his head and said what was in his heart rather than in his head. “I find that I do not care what you have done in the past, Amy. That is behind you now. What is important is what you do from this moment. And I
know
how fine and good you are, Amy. I feel it here.” He touched his chest. “Surely that is all that matters?”

It was as if he was trying to convince himself.

She knew it, too. “Rey…”

He reached out and stroked her cheek with his fingertip, tracing the warm dampness left from her tears.

Amy reached up and entwined her fingers with his. “I wish that was true.” She rubbed her cheek against his hand, and he felt her soft skin against the scars and calluses that came from a lifetime of fighting. “But you’re right about one thing. Whatever I did before, this time I don’t want any part of Jez’s scheme. I know I’ll be letting him down, but I just can’t—”

“Then you must tell him.”

“How can I? He’s relying on me. He won’t understand.”

“He will understand.”

“No, Rey, he won’t. He needs Nicco’s diamond so that he can sell it. He owes money to some dangerous people, people who can hurt him. He’s in trouble and he asked for my help and I promised to give it. How can I tell him I’ve changed my mind now? After all he’s done for me?”

“What has he done for you?”

“He looked after me, when we were kids. And later. He protected me from our dad. He was a violent drunk. If it wasn’t for Jez, I’d have been on the receiving end of his rages far more than I was.” She smiled wanly. “So, you see, I can’t let him down, though in my heart I want to…” The smile turned into a frown. “Do you think that was why I lost it with Nicco? To make certain he wouldn’t want me near him? Oh God, now I’m psychoanalyzing myself. What a mess.”

“Damsel…”

As if suddenly aware of his hand in hers, she snatched it away and sat up, arranging her dress rather primly. “You don’t have to be nice to me, Rey. I’m a disaster, my family is a disaster, and I have a feeling things are only going to get worse after tonight. Feel free to walk away. You have far more important things to worry about than me.”

“I want to worry about you, Amy.”

She glanced sideways at him, then she sighed and looked him full in the eyes. “There’s something special about you. I knew it from the first moment I saw you.” She reached out slowly, tentatively, to stroke the ugly scar on his neck. Reynald sat very still, enjoying the feel of her fingers on his skin, so warm and gentle, as if they would heal him after all these years.

Normally, Reynald didn’t think about his scar. It had been so long, and he preferred to forget. But now, as she touched him, he remembered that long-ago night, and the fear and horror that accompanied it. That was when he had made his vow, and he’d never had the urge to break it, not once in sixteen years.

Until now.

“Tell me about this,” she said, caressing him where the dagger had sliced through his flesh and very nearly ended his life.

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