Read An Original Sin Online

Authors: Nina Bangs

An Original Sin (16 page)

BOOK: An Original Sin
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He listened to the taxi drive away as he sat down with his back against a tree. A cool breeze moved over his skin—soothing, calming. He closed his eyes and listened to the quiet slap of water against the bank. Maybe he’d sleep here tonight.

The knock galvanized Fortune.
Leith.
He’d been gone so long she’d been afraid…afraid he wouldn’t come home, because no matter what had passed between them, she couldn’t conceive of life in this new world without him. Afraid he
would
come home, because even though she got a sick feeling every time she thought of the angry words he’d flung at her, she still had to bring him back to her time. She had a duty to her world, one she couldn’t cast aside because of personal feelings.

She flung open the door to find Blade and Lily standing there. She took in the somber expressions on both faces. “Leith! Something’s happened to Leith.” Her heart pounded out a terrified rhythm, and her mouth felt suddenly dry.

“Your man’s OK, honey. Calm down.” Lily’s words didn’t reassure Fortune. “He mixed it up with another guy down at the bar. He’s got a few cuts and bruises, but nothing the loving care of his woman won’t cure.” She cast Fortune a meaningful glance.

“I…I don’t understand. Where is he?” Only slightly reassured, she still couldn’t control her feeling of panic.

Blade patted her on the shoulder. “He’s sitting down by the lake. He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

Lily made a rude noise. “Let’s not beat around the bush, sugar. You got yourself a good man there. Go take care of him.” She turned, grabbed Blade by the arm, and started pulling him back toward the taxi. “Let’s get out of here, dumpling, and let Fortune do her thing.”

Fortune didn’t even wait to see them drive away before she locked the door and ran toward the lake.

Breathing hard from the unaccustomed exercise, she stopped to peer into the darkness. Then she saw him, a dark silhouette leaning against a tree by the shoreline. He’d flung his head back against the trunk, and she hesitated,
studying him. Once again she marveled at the pure masculine lines of him, and the way the mere sight of him could cause her breath to catch, her heart to pound, even when she hadn’t been running like crazy.

He must’ve sensed her approach, because he turned his face toward her and watched silently. Hurrying to his side, she dropped to her knees beside him. Only then did she notice his torn shirt and bloodied face. “Oh, my God.”

He shook his head solemnly. “God didna do this, although the man who did was uncommonly strong.”

She didn’t smile. With shaking fingers, she reached out to touch his bruised face. “Your poor face.”

He tried to make a wry expression, but it didn’t quite work with his cut lip. “My face doesna feel good, but I dinna think any bones are broken, so it isna so bad. I’ve had worse.”

“Why?” She could manage only one word though lips that were beginning to tremble in spite of her attempt to control them.

“For the joy of it.” Once again he tried to smile at her, this time with more success. “And dinna preach to me of violence. ’Twas my way of ridding myself of anger, and I willna apologize for it.”

She sat back on her heels and stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

He nodded as though they’d actually agreed on something important. “Then ye know why I would ne’er fit in yer world. I would die of boredom.”

“It’s not like that. There are wonderful things in my time. You could—”

He reached out and touched her lips with one rough finger, effectively silencing her. “Hear me, Fortune. While breath remains in me, I willna live in yer world.” His stare pierced her. “Nor will any child of mine.”

Child? Could there be a child? She hadn’t thought, hadn’t…No, she wouldn’t consider the possibility, couldn’t conceive of what it would mean. And she absolutely did
not
feel a warm glow at the thought of having Leith’s baby.

His total rejection of her world, and her duty to humanity, hung between them like a yawning chasm. She mourned for what had almost been, for what would never be again.

Chapter Nine

I swear to…Oops. Almost said the G word. Gettin’ careless. But hey, I’m allowed. The Chicago fire was a breeze compared to these two humans. A little cow manipulatin’ and poof, Chicago flambé. That fire was one of my master-pieces.

Okay, so cows are easy—limited brain cells. But gimme a break. Fortune and Leith are makin’ me sweat.
Nothing
makes me sweat. I mean, I really thought old Leith was gonna take a hike. I wouldn’t blame the guy.

Here we have some great lovin’. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t peek. OK, so I peeked a little. Anyway, I really thought this would be my big moment. Fortune had him in the palm of her hand, figuratively speaking, of course, and she blows it.

Why the hell’d she spout all that garbage about bringing him back to her time? After all, a man has his pride. Now I’ve gotta start over again, and time’s tickin’ away.

Maybe I shouldn’t have set that time limit, but who woulda thought two ordinary humans would be a problem? You gotta give them credit, though. Two tough cookies, just like me.

I gotta do somethin’ about that ice-cream peddler. I don’t get a real good feelin’ about him. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him. When you’ve been around as long as I have, a lotta faces look familiar. Give me time, and I’ll remember.

So now what? At least Leith didn’t fly the coop. They’re still together, even if he’s sleepin’ on the floor. Don’t blame him. That couch makes an iron maiden feel like sleepin’ on air.

Maybe I can do my thing when they go back to Mary Campbell’s. That’s if I can escape the lovin’ claws of Tootsie.
If that cat was human, she’d be wearin’ men out by the thousands. I guess no one said my life would be easy, but there are trials that try my tiny store of patience. If Tootsie isn’t careful, she’ll be lookin’ outa the wrong side of a mouse hole.

I gotta tell you, I sorta like Fortune and Leith. I never spent much time up close and personal with humans before, and I’ve kinda…bonded with them. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t blink when I zap them back to their own times. I have my professional integrity.

But you know, they’re…OK. Leith admires my guts, and I like a man who’s not afraid to be a man. Just like me. And Fortune’s…She’s a kind lady, even if she has this stupid idea about lugging Leith back to her time. She thinks about my comfort. I like that in a woman.

Not that I’m goin’ soft. Hey, I’ve been around for a long time, and nothin’s gonna keep me from doin’ what I’ve gotta do.

Fortune woke slowly, stretching her arms out in a languorous search for…Empty. The other side of the bed was empty. Memory flooded her.
Of course.
She’d burned her transport beams last night. Leith wouldn’t share her bed again. He considered her nothing short of a slave trader.

She sighed and sat up. That was what she’d wanted him to think, so why the stab of disappointment?

She’d think logically. She didn’t actually miss Leith, but the comfort of his physical presence, the physical aspect of their relationship. After all, she’d mated for the first time in her life, and it had been spectacular. So why shouldn’t she feel a sense of loss knowing it wouldn’t happen again? Leith represented only her physical need.
There.
She’d explained everything logically. She felt better. Didn’t she?

The sound of music wafting in from the living room interrupted her thoughts of logic and reasonableness.
Leith had risen early. She couldn’t contain an uncharitable hope that he’d found the floor a hard mistress. But on the other hand, she knew if he returned to their bed he’d create a whole new set of problems, at least for her peace of mind.

Reluctantly, she climbed from bed and headed for the bathroom. Closing the door, she stared bleakly into the mirror above the sink. Was that the face of a woman who’d found ecstasy in the arms of a man who loved her? Hardly. Leith would never love someone who’d sacrifice him on the altar of duty.

A familiar cramp assured her that motherhood didn’t hover on her horizon. Her monthly flow. She breathed out a sigh of disappointment, and the mirror momentarily fogged. It cleared, and she wished her own mixed feelings would clear as easily.

She should be overjoyed that she wouldn’t have a child to complicate her return home. A daughter would most likely live a life very like her own, one in which she’d never know the love of a real man.

And a boy? If she had a boy, he’d be coddled, pampered, and…stifled. He’d never know the freedom his father reveled in. He’d know only his duty to humanity and to an endless stream of faceless women.

So she should feel thrilled she didn’t have to worry about a child. As she climbed into the shower, she knew it would take more than the stream of hot water to wash away her soul-deep disappointment…and her memories. Memories of a hard, passion-slicked body awakening her to—
Stop! Just stop.
She wouldn’t think about what she couldn’t have.

A short time later, clean but not refreshed, she pulled on her jeans and a top, then padded into the living room. She found Leith lying on the floor, propped up on one elbow, his attention riveted to the television.

She glanced at the screen, then frowned. A man and woman, locked in each other’s arms, moved to the slow rhythm of a song. There wasn’t enough space between them to fit a microchip.

Leith glanced up at her. “ ’Tis a strange way of dancing.” She thought she detected a gleam of laughter in his eyes. “Do people still dance so in yer time?”

Fortune chose to ignore the humor. “Of course not. Without men it wouldn’t make much sense. We still dance, but with a little more space between us.”

He glanced solemnly at her. “Aye, I understand.” The flash of humor returned. “Still, mayhap we can try it one day.”

Her start of pleasure was all out of proportion to his suggestion. She shouldn’t get close to him again. She didn’t think logically when he was near—a disruption of her brain wave patterns. No, she would never dance like that with him. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

His glance touched her with a secret promise. “We will dance, lass. When ’tis time.”

He frowned. How could he want to touch her when he knew what she planned for him? His body didn’t understand the situation. She would try to use his body to capture his soul.

“You think because of what we did together you can dictate what happens between us?” Her eyes narrowed in defiance; her lips thinned in anger. “Not in this lifetime.”

What they’d
done
together?
Damn the woman.
They’d made love. But he’d forgotten: for her it had simply been a mating.

“Ye’re right, lass. ’Tis best we not touch again. I’d forgotten ye have but one purpose for my body, and ’tis not pleasure for yerself.” He tried to feel satisfaction with his rejection of her, but could only drag up a dull acceptance.

Fortune walked over and clicked off the television,
effectively ending the discussion on dancing and at the same time asserting her control. Leith almost smiled at her transparency, except he’d never felt less like smiling.

“What time will you leave for Mary Campbell’s?” She threw the question over her shoulder as she headed toward the kitchen.

He rose and followed her, stretching his complaining muscles as he went. He was growing soft. The fight had been short, and he’d slept on the cold ground many times and still risen eager for battle.

“I’ll bathe, then dress. Can ye be ready by then?”

She nodded as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“ ’Tis amazing. Most women would spend more time making themselves presentable.” Why had he goaded her? Did he want her to refuse to go with him? More likely he hoped to shatter her cold manner, expose the warm, soft woman beneath. But perhaps there was no warm woman beneath. Had her concern last night for his injuries been real, or merely worry that her chosen stud might be marred before she could get him home?

“Presentable?” She smiled sweetly at him, but no sweetness reached her eyes. “Now who would I want to be presentable for?”

“Aye. Ye can look like a hag for all I care.” He strode toward the bathroom, angrily aware his outburst had been akin to a lad sticking his tongue out at an adversary he could defeat in no other way.

After a hot shower and even hotter thoughts, he hurried to the bedroom to dress.

Glancing at the shorts he’d dragged from his drawer, he allowed himself a satisfied smile. To put the shorts on before his jeans was the civilized thing to do.
To hell with civilized things.
Dropping the shorts into the trash basket, he defiantly slid the jeans over his bare skin. He pulled up the zipper with extra care, for a careless jerk of those metal
teeth could make him useless to Fortune or any woman that came after her.

As he headed back to the living room, his act of childish defiance almost embarrassed him. Almost. Even though Fortune would never know what he did or didn’t wear beneath his jeans,
he
knew, and felt he’d struck a blow for all males.

When he reached the living room, Fortune awaited him. Her tousled hair framed her face and looked as though she’d only dragged her fingers through it. She wore her shirt hanging loose to hide her body, but she couldn’t hide the angry pink of her cheeks or the defiant sparkle of her eyes. He almost laughed. She’d purposely attempted to make herself unattractive, and instead she’d made herself beautiful.

“Ye look bonny. ’Tis a compliment that ye made yerself beautiful for me, but I didna think ye could do it so quickly.”

“Drop dead.” Her bosom heaved, probably with the effort to keep from attacking him.

He followed the motion with his gaze. He remembered the soft fullness of her breasts as he’d cupped them in his palms, the hot taste of woman and desire as he’d suckled each nipple.
Damn!
If he didn’t stop such thoughts he’d be forced to release his zipper and horrify Fortune with his lack of shorts.

He shook his head in mock sorrow. “ ’Tis sad that ye’d wish violence on me, and ye coming from such a peaceful society.”

Her beauty shone as brightly as her anger. This was almost as much fun as…No, it wasn’t even close. The thought of their lovemaking sobered him immediately. “Are ye ready?”

“Yes. I’ve already called a taxi. I hope this job pays well, because our money won’t last long if we have to take taxis everywhere.”

The sound of the taxi stopping in front of the house pulled him from his dangerous memories of her body, their lovemaking. As he followed Fortune into the vehicle, he didn’t even attempt to stop Ganymede when the cat leaped in behind him. Ganymede was a male, and he needed all the male support he could get.

When they stopped in front of Mary’s castle, Ganymede leaped out before they could stop him and disappeared into the shrubbery. Leith smiled. Ganymede didn’t fear thieves, but an amorous Tootsie was a different matter altogether. He cast a sideways glance at Fortune, who sat primly against the far door, refusing even to look at him. Leith understood Ganymede. A wise male retreated to fight another day.

But he’d never claimed to be a wise male. He slid across the seat until he almost touched her. She didn’t wait for explanations. Jerking the door next to her open, she practically fell out in her anxiety to be away from him.
Hmm. Interesting.

Climbing out behind her, he watched as she hurried toward the castle’s entrance. The sway of her hips drew his attention like tender spring grass tempted a hungry ram. She’d almost reached the door when Mary opened it.

Smiling at Fortune, Mary turned her gaze on Leith. “I’m glad you could make it today. Come with me, and I’ll show you where you’ll work. We need to talk about money, too.”

A movement at Mary’s feet drew his attention. Tootsie slipped out the door. He hoped Ganymede was fleet of foot today.

After showing them to the study, Mary left them alone. Leith glanced down at the piece of paper she’d given him. “I dinna understand this.”

Fortune walked over to one of the strange machines. “It’s a computer, primitive but adequate for what we need.”

He looked up, puzzled. “No, I mean this piece of paper Mary gave me. It doesna look like dough.”

Preoccupied, Fortune turned on the machine, then sat down in front of it. “That’s a check. You go to a bank and turn it in for money.” She stopped playing with the machine and glanced over her shoulder at him. “I got a look at the amount. If I remember correctly, that’s a lot of money for this time period.” She turned her attention back to the machine. “Of course, we won’t be here long enough to take advantage of all that money.”

Folding the paper carefully, he put it in his pocket. “What if ye ne’er return home, Fortune?”

Fortune swiveled her chair to stare at him. The thought felt like a splash of cold water on a hot day—unexpected enough to make her catch her breath, but after the initial shock, not as unpleasant as she’d thought.

She watched him walk toward her with the easy grace of a man who’d pushed his body to the limits of physical endurance and understood its power. He’d still find physical challenges in the year 2000, but in 2300 he’d be an anomaly, a freak who didn’t understand the only muscle that counted was in your index finger, the one for pushing buttons. Sure, there were still primitive worlds, but he wouldn’t be allowed to leave Earth. He’d be much too valuable to trust to the vagaries of space travel.
A dark predator in a golden cage.

She hated the thought, but the human race had to continue. “We have to return. It’s my—”

“Aye. It’s yer duty. But if ye had no duty, would it trouble ye greatly to stay?” He peered curiously over her shoulder at the monitor.

Never return to her work? Strange that her first thought wasn’t for her mother, her friends. To be honest, her mother had no place in her life, had never wanted a place in her life. Friends? None she couldn’t face a future without.

She raised her gaze to meet Leith’s. If she were really honest, she’d admit this man seemed closer, more real than anyone in her other life.
Other life.
There was a discovery waiting in those words, but she couldn’t think with him so close.

BOOK: An Original Sin
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Brat and the Brainiac by Angela Sargenti
Sicario by Alberto Vázquez-Figueroa
Blind Sight: A Novel by Terri Persons
Rickey and Robinson by Harvey Frommer
Muse (Descended From Myth) by McFadden, Erin
The Mountain of Gold by J. D. Davies
Fever Season by Barbara Hambly
Adventurous Kate by W C AURORA
Teresa Watson by Death Stalks the Law