Queen of Jastain (30 page)

It was clear they must go to Boston.
Damnable Darkness.
He'd not prepared for a face-to-face meeting with
this Chad
. Avant seethed at the thought of the man. He hadn't anticipated the possibility that the Darkness had allies in her world. His foot ground into the accelerator and the car roared to life with the surge.

Since Abigail had Implanted into him, two things had happened. Avant was now hopelessly in love with the woman. And, unfortunately for him, the memories of her and
this Chad
making love assailed his mind relentlessly.

These memories shook him to his core. The sheer volume of the encounters and the variety in which they occurred drove him to madness. His marriage had been loving, as far as he knew, but his marriage bed was wrought with formality. Perhaps, had it been more…passionate, Sentieve would not have strayed. Her betrayal pained him, but he felt a measure of responsibility and accepted at least a portion of the blame.

In his world, unspoken rules governed the relations of lovers, to which most adhered. However, the obvious pleasure the unfathomable variations brought to the couple—to her—forced him to reevaluate those restrictive standards.

One particular memory he battled incessantly to keep from his mind. The erotic thought made him rage with jealousy, but it also made him rage with desire—a desire he could no longer deny. It had been too long, and the well of passion he suppressed was too full for these memories. His will was formidable, but it was also fallible. More than once Abigail had taken it to task, and as his love for her grew, desire for her engulfed him.

They had a mission to complete. The future of Jastain must be paramount. His Gift told him the time was near for the battle to begin. His Gift was never wrong. However, regarding his desire for Abigail, his Gift was silent other than the dream.

When he became king, he would marry Abigail, and she would be his queen. Then he vowed to systematically replace every memory he had been viciously forced to endure with a new image. He knew exactly where he would begin….

The beeping sound of technology startled him out of his thoughts. He winced, in pain from his arousal, and took several deep breaths. Abigail had activated her new intelligent phone on the car’s technology.

Avant drove into the parking lot of the shopping mall. He knew well where it was and where she liked to park because of her numerous memories.

Volumes of merchandise filled countless storefronts and multitudes of people milled in and out. The moving staircases loped along, transporting people up and down several floors. Even the market places of the Eastern traders could not compare. Scantily clothed women occupied the windows of a pink store, and the smell of ginger and strawberries held him captive at the door.
Victoria's Secret, indeed.
Based on what he saw, it did not appear Victoria was leaving anything a secret.

“C’mon Commander, you might get into trouble in there.” With a mischievous smirk on her face, Abigail pulled him along.

In less than an hour and a half, she'd purchased five new shirts, two pairs of pants, two pairs of shoes, and undergarments called boxers that were less restrictive and more in line with his normal attire.

He constantly shifted his eyes through the crowd, worried about the danger. Abigail had refused to allow him to bring his sword. Wearing the damnable shorts and without his weapon, he might as well have been completely unclothed. He stared into a storefront and frowned. At least he fit in.

Though he had Abigail’s Implanting, he was out of his element and unsure of his defenses in the event of a battle. “Abigail, I understand the letter says it is from your mother, but something is not right. Why would she not attempt to find you before now?”

“I don’t know, but I'm sure she had her reasons. Don’t you want me to find my mother?”

The hurt in her tone tightened bands around his heart, but he wasn't certain he did want her to find her mother. At least, not until a few other things became clearer.

He drove the carriage back to the house, gripping the steering and allowing the speed of the vehicle to thrum through him like wine. It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and Abigail was right. He could get used to it.

“Tomorrow, we’ll Implant to Boston first thing in the morning, after I get some cash. But we’ll still have to find a place to spend the night once we get there. Unless you want to stay with Chad.”

Ignoring her jibe, Avant said, “I'm not delighted with the idea of this Chad being the only one who can help us. It seems strange that your mother would entrust him with such an important task.”

Avant had never met Raieda nor had he realized Sentieve knew her. Abigail’s family had long fled Jastain when he married. “Perhaps Raieda was the one with the Gift of Placement Implanting. It is a rare gift, and it does stand to reason that she would use it to help those in the service of Light.”

“And it would make sense that I also have the Gift of Placement Implanting.”

He nodded and returned to the other subject that plagued his mind. Avant didn’t know how he would control the rage he felt for this young man, unless he could stop the mental barrage.  “I do not care for the idea that this Chad is still in love with you, Abigail. Although it makes me wonder if there is any man who can resist your charms.”

She shot him a perturbed glance. “Some seem to manage just fine.”

When they returned to the house, she took a nap. He found the hot tub and television a welcome retreat. He settled into the warm, bubbling water that reminded him of the hot spring in the cave. He’d been a fool that day when he’d allowed the intimacy between them and he’d been a fool to push her away after the fact. He’d wished a thousand times over to relive that moment. One day he would, one day soon. His body and heart had known what his mind had yet to comprehend—Abigail was his life, his destiny. He loved her and would stop at nothing to protect her.

That letter.
If Raeida had the Gift, why had she not used it to find Abigail? The facts were amiss, but troubling his angel with them now seemed unwise. She was still struggling with the news that her mother might be alive. He would just have to stay on guard until the mystery was revealed.

The letter had said Chad still loved her. Of course, Chad still loved Abigail. She was foolish not to realize that he'd jumped into relations with her friend out of heartbreak. Avant would wager, even now, the man would have her, if Abigail wanted him. If she wanted him. Did she? The thought was too painful. Avant already shared her heart with Petra, which was his own fault, but he would share no more. She belonged to him, and he belonged to her, by more than mere sentiment. It was time he claimed her as his own. He doubted any two people were ever more intimately connected than he and Abigail were.

“You know that thing will turn your brain to mush, right?” Abigail stood over him, apparently looking to see what he was wearing.

He flashed her a sly smile. “I can certainly understand how one could waste away in front of it. I've been watching this CNN, and they're speaking of so many evils I cannot comprehend the scope of it all. Abigail, your world is frightening.”

Her gaze roamed his bare chest. “This isn’t my world…not anymore. My home is with you. You’re my family.”

Love and desire for her engulfed him, and he pulled her into the hot tub.

“Avant, now I have to blow dry my hair again!”

Joy welled and laughter rumbled from him. He loved the feel of her, the smell, everything.

Water dripping from her cheeks and soaked to the bone, she stared with that huntress gaze that thrilled and disturbed him. She drew closer and laced her arms around his neck. He looked into her eyes and filled himself with the offering he found there. His breath sped. To claim her in this moment was not his plan. As she leaned in to kiss him, he turned his head, allowing her to kiss his cheek instead. He lifted her arms from around his neck and pulled from her embrace.

Her eyes blazed. “Why are you pulling away? Again?”

He labored to steady his breathing. “Why do you insist on being the aggressor?”

“What?”

He stared into her lovely eyes. “Have any of the relationships you initiated with men borne healthy fruit?” Her memories indicated they had not. Abigail's father, though mostly absent, was the only male in her life that didn't succumb to her dominant personality. This was the reason she equated Avant with him. It was also the reason he could not allow her to direct their relationship.

“So you're asking me to relinquish the driver's seat?”

She was as sharp as a forged blade. He held her gaze and nodded once.

“And what if you never start the car?”

“That is the rub with relinquishing control, is it not?” He brushed a drop of water from her cheek.

She dropped her sights and climbed out of the water, dripping with disappointment. He watched her leave, noting the way the wet clothing clung to her, revealing the sensual curves of her body.

Be patient, my angel.

* * * *

Abby stomped upstairs, stripped the wet clothes from her body and threw herself across the bed.
What an overbearing, arrogant asshole!
He was such a control freak.

Was he trying to piss her off? But the look on his face hadn't indicated he did it out of spite or control. His heart had shone in his eyes. Still, he rejected her. Again.

What did he mean the
fruit
of her previous relationships? He knew she'd only had one long-term boyfriend. He also knew nothing good came from it. She huffed out a breath.

Chad had always given in. Accepted into the MIT post-grad program, he was a nuclear engineering major on full scholarship. Generally quiet, Chad was the kind of guy who let her lead. The casual ease of their relationship had given her the security she desired and provided Chad with a social outlet.

Now she saw the truth. She’d never respected him. In fact, when he'd confronted her about her late nights and heavy drinking, she'd kicked him out of the house. The moment he'd tried to influence her, she'd shut him out.

Avant was right.
Damn.
She was the control freak. It chapped her that he called bullshit and didn't let her get away with trying to manage him. It also filled her with respect for him, and made her want him even more, as if that were possible.

She smiled at the thought of his face as he sat behind the wheel of the Beemer. The thrill in his eyes tickled her.
And that kiss
. That kiss set her on fire. It was the first time he had ever initiated anything with her. She gulped at the memory as heat pooled low in her belly.

Abby packed their clothes in a suitcase, along with other essentials, and hid the bag under her bed. She straightened her hair and dressed in a sleeveless white blouse with a ruffled v-neck, and a black gauze skirt. God, everything was so different. She was different. Peering in the mirror was like staring at a different person. She didn’t look anything like the girl she'd been.

She knocked on Avant's door and walked in. “Hey, pretty boy. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I'm ready.” He sauntered out of the bathroom wearing the crisp white button down shirt and blue jeans.

Abby's knees turned to mush, and she almost fell to the floor, where she could have picked up her jaw.

It was a silly schoolgirl fantasy, but since the night of the Harvest Festival, she couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like in blue jeans. The answer more than justified her desire to see it.

“Oh my God. You are so cool!” Her eyes raked his body, and she wished she could touch him…everywhere. “You look
hot
!”

He laughed. “Your colloquialisms are amusing. It is a strange thing that one could be
hot
and
cool
at the same time.”

“But you are!”

They ate tacos and enchiladas for dinner. Abby laughed so hard she snorted iced tea from her nose when Avant took a bite of jalapeño and had to down his drink to quench the three-alarm fire. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Here in her world, where he wasn’t the feared Commander, he lost some of his stuffiness—not all but some. Even if he wasn’t exactly relaxed, he didn’t stand on formality either. The fact that he was the best damn looking man she’d ever laid eyes on didn’t hurt either.

Still wiping the tears from his eyes, he asked, “Was there nothing else in your father's safe, Abigail?”

“Only documents and an empty box.”

“I know it is likely fruitless, but I wish to peruse the papers. Perhaps something will reveal itself to me.”

“It's worth a try. We don't really have much else to go on.”

After dinner, she left Avant in the study with the papers and went to her room.

She turned on her computer and sifted through email. Several friends had graduated. A couple had gotten married. One had gotten arrested. The Aggies had a decent football season but basketball was looking up.
Sweet Sixteen in March Madness. Gig 'em.

The radio played a familiar tune, and her foot tapped to the rhythm. God, she'd missed music. A new song played. One she'd never heard. The music caught her up, and thoughts of Avant filled her. His smell. His kiss. She danced around the room as her inner most fantasies sprang to life, warming her heart and heating her body. Images of him holding her, making love to her, spending his life with her, filled the space in the beautiful song. Closing her eyes, she swayed with the music, her love and desire thrumming strong inside her.

The song ended. Her eyes opened. Avant stood in the doorframe, watching.

Shit.
Those thoughts had been unguarded. A tidal wave of humiliation and embarrassment flushed her from head to toe. What could she do about it now? It wasn't like he didn't already know about her sexual fantasies, but to have him catch her red-handed was beyond mortifying.

She squared her shoulders and met his gaze, prepared for some kind of rebuke. Her heart skipped a beat. Not the usual look of sympathy or restraint he normally possessed, his eyes flamed wild with passion.