Rebel Heart (27 page)

"Go away," she said, her voice eerie and strangely calm, words whispered softly through her teeth. She held her hand in front of her, warding off the evil being of her dreams. "Leave me alone," she croaked, her words barely audible, her hand shaking.

"Tori…"

She heard the sound and turned toward it, shrinking back to cower against the stonewall.

Her small, fragile arms covered her face, and she had drawn her knees up tight against her chest. He touched her shoulders hoping to give comfort and protect her from the monster in her mind. "Hush, it's all right. I won't let anything hurt you." She cowered back farther, shaking her head. "Everyone is dead--gone. Nothing will save them. He's a devil. He's destroyed everything."

Suddenly, she was in his arms. Her hair smelled of the forest and the lake of everything natural and good in this world. It was distinctly her own. Her skin was soft as a rose petal, silken to his touch. He felt the heat of her against him.

For this curious instant in time, she was defenseless and exposed, an image of femininity in his arms. She was innocent, yet beguilingly provocative. He could feel far too much of her body--and her nakedness. Guilt pumped through his veins at the potent and lusty direction of his thoughts. But she was his. He need not wait for a wedding that would take place so soon.

He pulled her closer, sharing the heat of the fire that raged between them. Take her--no. He would not succumb to the blatant animal instinct that tried so hard to overpower his common sense.

When she trembled so against his chest…

When he would be no better than the villain he'd rescued her from. She might have the tools at her disposal to battle him, a keen intellect, a will and a heart of steel.

She might despise him.

But when she lay in his arms, trembling and helpless....

He sighed, running his fingers through the tangled mess of her hair, remembering the moment and the sleeping angel in his arms, intent on savoring the fleeting seconds he had before she became the wild, unpredictable hellion once more. Within his embrace, he held her close to his heart. "No one's going to hurt you. Wake up, babe. Morray is nowhere near. There are no plague-filled cities. No one is dying. Hush, now. It was only a dream."

"Cameron?"

He stiffened as she whispered his name. Then he sensed the slight lift of her chin, felt her careful perusal of his face, and heard the grateful sigh.

"No, Victoria. It is not your husband to be." He knew when he said those words he should drop his hands, push her from the sheltering circle of his arms, but he could not bring himself to break contact.

"I know," she whispered. "I'm glad it's you."

At that moment, he was heartily glad of the deception because he had no intention of letting her go. "Rest easy," he told her softly.

She didn't. She continued to look into his eyes, a pensive expression in her clear gray eyes. His arms were still around her, his hands soothing and caressing her back. "What is it? What are you thinking?"

She smiled a huge, breathtaking smile that won his heart and broke it at the same time.

He tilted her chin with his forefinger, studying her features and her expression once more, wishing that somehow he could transfer a few of the transparent feelings she had for him to Cameron Savage. He could make love to her now, at this moment, a time when she was half in love with a fairy tale. It would be bittersweet and not very satisfying, he thought perversely, but at least he would know she was giving all she had, her heart and her soul. Cameron might not ever know that sweet bliss, the heat of her passion, unless her feelings changed dramatically.

He let his knuckles gently graze her cheekbones, tracing the line of her jaw and the delicate outline of her ear. Then with a heartfelt breath and grave resolve, he tucked her head next to his chest.

Victoria

Even before Tori opened her eyes, she could feel the sharp end of a rock cutting into her side. There was a certain scent of cave mildew and bat guano around her. She struggled to wake up, while memories of the night before flooded her mind.

What else could go wrong?

Perhaps everything. Her eyes were still closed tightly, but she knew instant distress. Reminders all came rushing back in on her and she understood without opening her eyes he was there--in the cave--studying her.

He would remember too. How she trembled in his arms, seeking protection from the nightmares that had been such a part of her life since her childhood, since that day in the forest with her father. Morray had threatened her father then just as he threatened her now.

And in truth, Quentin Morray had not been the center of her nightmares. The human strife and pain she'd seen repeatedly haunted her now.

Then the dreams had ended. Because she had suddenly felt protected--safe from the battles she'd fought for so long and the enemies that followed her The dreams had ended because he had been there, holding her and protecting her. A friend when she needed one, a man. She had clung to him seeking comfort.

She'd let herself relax, her breaths had taken on the same cadence as his, her heart beat with the same easy rhythm. When he'd stretched out beside her, tucking her securely next to him, she'd found courage in his strength.

She could feel his eyes on her even now. He was watching her, studying her. He was no longer a stranger she'd innocently shared her bed with.

She opened her eyes. He stood by the mouth of the cave in a hazy gray light, a silhouette. Totally masked from her gaze.

Yet she knew his eyes focused on her.

She rubbed her arms in an unconscious gesture. At that moment, she realized her state of dishabille. Her shirt had fallen away, baring most of her to his stormy gaze. As if in slow motion, she pulled what remained of her shirt together, fastening it the best she could.

The Phantom was watching her, waiting half-expectantly for something she couldn't quite grasp. When he turned slightly and the fading light of dusk filtered through the opening, she thought she could see an amused glint in his eye, the slight beginnings of a smile, and she was suddenly embarrassed. So he'd rescued her, comforted her in her sleep. Perhaps she had savored the moment of surrender. She'd never before been able to relax, to let someone else assume the role of protector. It made no difference. Her moment of weakness was over now and he had no right to watch her so, with such concentration. She cursed under her breath, slowly standing as if meeting him closer to eye level would help the situation. Then she stared back at him, resolute and determined.

"I would like some privacy," she said, her voice nearly breaking.

"This is all there is," he said, his tone injured. "You didn't need it a few short minutes ago."

The words were indignant, as if she'd wounded his pride somehow.

"But.--I was asleep. You took advantage."

"No, babe, I took nothing you didn't offer."

"Offer? I volunteered nothing, I--"

"I treasured every soft sigh, each moan of pleasure," he declared softly

She understood the error of her words and turned away in frustration. "I did nothing of the sort."

"I was there. I heard your sweet compliance, felt your arms around me, pulling me close."

She was getting nowhere. The teasing undertone was there within each word, each subtle gesture. She let out a deep sigh, and spoke then, resigned to the situation, reminding herself he was right in his assumptions even though she wanted so desperately to deny him and Cameron Savage. Sometime in the long hours since her rescue, she'd learned to care for this man, and she knew she'd have to disown the feelings, push all thoughts of him aside.

She faced him. "Please--you and I both know this isn't right."

"I risked my life for you."

"For me? No--you've done it for money. Just as most men, you risk little unless you would gain some monetary value from it," she returned swiftly. "I've little doubt you'd turn me over to Morray if he offered more money for me."

He lifted his hand, a mocking gesture. "So, you think so little of me. How many men would have risked that old rusty ladder and scaled the tower?"

"With plans to turn me over to someone else," she said, "after taking advantage of me."

"We are back to that?"

There was a curious tone to his voice, some deep note of warning. She was too distraught to acknowledge it.

"What does Savage plan on paying you? I suppose he gave you leave to have sex with me too."

"More than you are worth, Victoria. At this moment I cannot begin to understand why he'd want to tie himself to someone as unbending and unwilling to listen as you."

"You're unconscionable and arrogant. I don't know what I saw in you?" she said, before she realized just what she let slip.

She saw the very slow curl of his smile, and to her chagrin, she knew that color suffused her cheeks. How could he evoke such a myriad of emotions in her in such a short span of time? "Of course, let me think back on it," he murmured. "In truth, I did not hold you. But your slender arms did comfort me..."

"No!" she cried out, her temper suddenly getting the best of her so that she shook.

To her great distress, he moved forward. He was an imposing figure, perhaps even more so because of the mystery surrounding him. "Cameron Savage, Victoria, is loyal to your father."

"I see. You've uncovered the truth of the matter. He has no feeling for me other than to steal my thoughts--my research," she replied, dismayed her voice should sound so passionate. She was not going to cower before this man, just because he was the epitome of strength and power, just because she could feel the dangerous presence and depth of him. Feel his eyes. Even feel, despite the distance between them, the beating of his heart, a pulse that was unending.

Perhaps she should retreat.

She pushed back against the cold wall, holding tight to the one small blanket, the only barrier separating them. She held her chin at a determined angle, despite the fact that she must look vulnerable and forlorn.

"My, my," he murmured thoughtfully as he moved closer still. "I think Dr. Cameron Savage will be pleased. With such a submissive..." he paused, his hand reaching out as if he meant to brush her hair from her eyes. His lips curved with amusement. "Perhaps submissive isn't the right word," he finished.

She didn't think her heart would ever beat at a normal tempo again. "I don't want to argue."

"Then?" He lifted his hands. "Babe! You are far too suspicious."

"Am I? Well, I am sorry my life has not allowed me the freedom of trust. I would not offend anyone."

"Why I derived the greatest pleasure from listening to you denounce your intended. I digested each word--"

"You just said--“

"While I found the last few hours almost pleasurable, I would never possess what is not mine."

She tilted her chin even higher, swearing softly. "What do I have to do to convince you I did not intend to fall into your arms? I was frightened. I thought--I thought..."

"What?"

She cried out in frustration. "That you were different."

"I am. That is not the point. You are to marry Cameron."

"I detest the very idea."

"But you condemn your sister to a life of loneliness."

"She is no more bound by the codicil than I am."

"If you don't marry him, how will you regain access to your computers and laboratory?"

Her frustration overpowered all common sense. She cared not for her appearance or the repercussion of her act. What difference did it make? They'd spent the long hours in each other's arms. She'd wanted him with a depth and longing she'd never before experienced and now he rejected her. He rejected not just her body but also her soul. He was giving her to Savage. With all her strength, she threw the blanket at him.

It amused him. He lifted a hand to ward off the projectile, laughing, and the blanket fell to the floor. She stood before him, left with no protection.

Suddenly, his laughter faded. She was near naked once more. His eyes raked her from the tip of her toes to her eyes then back again. "Babe, take the cape." He swept it from the floor and handed it over to her. He walked back to the mouth of the cave, smoothing his half-angry fingers down the mask's lacing at the back of his head. "There's a nice little pool a few yards from the cave. If you'd like, I'll take you there and you can refresh yourself."

"Swim?" Overjoyed, she stood, the cloak falling past her feet.

The Phantom was a puzzle to her.

He had saved her from Morray. He had comforted her in the night. Despite her frustration with him and the fact that if he'd continued in the manner he could have anything he wanted from her, she was suddenly very grateful.