Betrayal 2012 (12 page)

“We’ll start in the morning.  Meet me at the pool at ten.”  Jeremiah looked behind him towards one of the scantily clad female wait staff and pulled her arm closer to his face.  I didn’t know what he was going to do until I saw him glance at her watch.  “It is time for me to go.  Please enjoy the dessert and wine and treat this house as though it were your own,” he said as he rose.  Grabbing the hands of two human females, he started to make his way towards the foyer.  “On second thought, you might want to avoid the pool tonight.  The sprites have been mating again and that might get a little too intense for you.”

I made a face as Jeremiah’s laughter echoed through the room and he walked away with several females following close behind.  My second wine glass was almost empty, so I finished it with one gulp.  It wasn’t until I put it down that I caught Graham’s wry smile.

“I’m thirsty,” I said in defiance.

“I see that,” he replied with a smirk.

“He gives me the creeps.”

Graham tilted his glass back and swallowed the wine.  I think it was at least his third.  When finished, he lifted the empty goblet towards me.  “Me too, luv.”

“Why do you always say that?” I asked without thinking.  Perhaps two glasses of wine was one too many for me.

“Say what, luv?”

“
Luv
,” I imitated in his English accent and raised my eyebrows.  “It’s kind of condescending.”

“I thought it was kind of adorable,” he replied instantly.

“It’s not.”

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“Mistress Dumahl,” I said instantly with a sinful grin.

“No, I think not.”  He rubbed his hands on his chin like he was smoothing his beard.  “How about birdie?”

“No.”

“Well then maybe you prefer wench or hussy?” he continued teasing.

“Or how about you don’t need a nickname for me at all?”  I was twirling the empty wine glass in my hand deciding whether or not it was worth having another.  As though reading my thoughts, Graham jumped up and walked around the head of the table.  He reached down and pulled me out of the chair.

“Come along, tart.  I have just the remedy for you.”  I tried to resist but his hands tightened on my shoulders.

“Oh, that is so not going to fly with me.”

“Tart it is then!” he exclaimed with satisfaction.  “We need something much stronger than that wine if we’re going to survive the week with Jeremiah.”

Those words instantly sobered me up.  “Do you really think it’s going to be a whole week?”  Even though I had assumed longer, after the dinner tonight, I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Afraid so, tart.”  I elbowed him in the ribs and he seemed to be genuinely hurt. 

“Why did you do that?”

“I’m not your
tart
,” I replied, imitating his earlier comment to Jeremiah.

“Where did you learn to fight?”  He was still rubbing his side but his face was full of curiosity.

“Palmer’s been teaching me.”  I sighed, thinking about how much I was going to miss being away from our little boot camp in California.

“Yeah?”  I nodded.  We passed through the foyer and into a room that I could only describe as a study or library.  Three of the four walls were covered with dark wood bookshelves, but Graham was directing us towards the bar on the far side of the room.

“Yes.  And I’m going to get behind now.”

“Well, I’ll teach you, tart.”

“Stop calling me tart,” I replied before really listening to his comment.  “You’ll teach me what?”

“To fight.”  I stepped away and looked him up and down like a boxer eying up her competition. 

“You?”  I huffed dramatically.  Apparently all of my apprehension about being around one of the most gorgeous guys in the world had remained in the dining room along with my inhibitions.  “I just about killed you with an elbow to the ribs.  What could you possibly teach me?”

“Oh, so much,” he said with a growl.  The heat instantly darted through my body and my heart pounded in my chest.  “But when it comes to fighting, I’ve been well trained.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he scoffed.  “You’re not the only one who wants to be able to protect herself.”  I thought about that.  Training with Graham would at least keep my mind off of why I was here in the first place.  Plus perhaps it would make this entire trip a little bit more fun.

“Okay,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Yep.  When do we start?”

“Right now,” he said while pouring a clear liquid into two shot glasses.  Holding one up to me he said, “Come over here, tart.”  I rolled me eyes and he laughed.  Taking the tiny glass in my hands, I sniffed the liquid and instantly wrinkled my nose.

“What is this?”

“Doesn’t matter.  If I beat you, you drink.”

“Beat me in what?”  He stepped back and leaned down placing one elbow against the bar with his hand up in the air.  I snorted.  “Arm wrestling?”

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go.  Best of three.  Consider it your audition.”

“Audition for what?”

“To see if you’re worthy of my time.”  His arrogance was astounding and without hesitating, I grabbed his hand and slammed it down into the bar.   “I wasn’t ready!” he cried.

“Losers drink,” I said with a smirk.  He stared at me with something that looked like desire.  Once he refilled his glass, he grabbed my hand again and the challenge was on. 

Five minutes later, it was all over and I had been forced to take two nasty shots.  I don’t know if it was the wine or what, but for some reason they didn’t seem as potent as I’d expected.

“Okay, so try to attack me,” Graham said while standing in the middle of the floor in a wrestler’s stance.  He was crouched low to the ground and I had to laugh at seeing him in this position.  “What’s so funny, tart?”  That got my attention and I lunged.

Either he wasn’t ready, or I was getting better, but after only a few blocked punches I had the clear shot to the back of his legs.  He went down with a bang and I landed on top of him to attempt a choke hold.  It was a little too easy. 

“Why aren’t you fighting back?”  I was straddled over his waist and leaning close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.  Instead of pushing me off, he smiled.

“I am.  I’m resisting temptation.”

“What?” 

And then I got it.  I tried to move off of him but his hands were on me so fast I didn’t even know what happened until my back was on the ground and Graham was the one on top of me.  He had my arms pinned to my sides and for all intents and purposes, I was trapped. 

“Get off of me.”

“Mmmm,” he breathed along the side of my face.  “What is it about you Eviana Dumahl?”  He was speaking directly into my ear and that alone sent shivers down my spine.  I wasn’t scared but I was afraid of what I might do next.  He slid down so that he was practically lying on top of me, forcing my arms over the top of my head and looking at me with an expression that dared me to fight.  I wasn’t fighting.  I couldn’t move.

“I think that you should get off of me now,” I squeezed out past the lump in my throat.  He was so close that I could kiss him.  But I couldn’t do that.  Not now.  Brendan was coming back to me and I wasn’t going to mess it up by kissing another guy.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” Graham said as he moved his mouth closer to my lips.  I could always use the alcohol as an excuse but I didn’t think I needed one.  I wanted him to kiss me and I wanted him to kiss me now.  He suddenly rested his forehead against mine and sighed.  “I win,” he mumbled.

“Fine,” I conceded wishing that he hadn’t turned his head.  His eyes met mine again and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours.  I still didn’t have use of my arms, but if I did, I’m pretty sure I would have wrapped them around his neck and pulled his lips to mine.

“Fine,” he breathed back.  He suddenly bent down and kissed me quickly on the lips but was standing again before I even had a chance to react.  Pulling me off the ground he stepped away and walked back towards the bar.  He wasn’t facing me when he spoke again and I saw him pour another shot.  “You should go.  You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

I knew when I was being dismissed and something inside of me crumbled.  I was being rejected.  Not quite giving up I asked, “So will you train me?”

He turned around and snorted a laugh.  “I’ll train you even if it’s going to kill me to do so.”

I knew that I was blushing now and I couldn’t help but smile at knowing the attraction was at least somewhat mutual.  My pride needed the reassurance.  “Okay then.  Goodnight, Graham.”

“Night, tart.”

I walked upstairs to my room, stumbling a little along the way.  Apparently the shots were now in full effect and it was probably a good thing that my raging hormones were far away from the hot mess of temptation downstairs.  I needed to clear my head fast so I took a long shower and climbed into bed wondering if Graham would knock on my door.  Pushing that silly thought away, I tried to focus instead on Brendan.  He was the one I loved and we were going to get a second chance together.  I hadn’t heard from him yet, but he would call.  Someday soon.

Nine

I was asleep before I knew it because the insistent knocking on my door woke me up early the next morning.  Stifling a groan, I opened my eyes to see that it was still dark out.  The clock showed that it was just before six and I couldn’t imagine who was at the door this early.

“What?” I growled.  Taking that as an invitation, Graham threw open my door and flipped on the light.  I shielded my eyes with one pillow and threw another in his direction.  “What are you doing?  Get out of my room!”

He dodged the flying cushion and began rifling through the closet where I had unpacked my clothes.  “Time for your training,” he said although it sounded a bit muffled under the pillow. 

“Did I hear you say training?”  Looking at the clock again, I decided that this must be some kind of sick joke.  “The sun’s not even up yet.”

He threw a pair of shorts and a tight tank top on the bed.  “I only have four hours with you before Jeremiah takes over.  We don’t want to waste any time.”  He was moving around the room like a caffeine junkie.  I didn’t smell any cigarettes or alcohol and he looked relatively refreshed, but he was still acting weird.

“Did you even sleep?” I asked.

He shrugged.  “A little.  Now let’s go.”  He bent forward and pulled the blankets down towards the end of the bed, exposing me to the cold air and his playful eyes.  I was wearing a camisole and underwear…and nothing else.  He stared and I cowered under the heat of his gaze.  His mouth was partially opened and his eyes never left my body.  It took another pillow to the face before he snapped out of it.

“You don’t get to look at me like that,” I said sharply.

Running his hand through his head, he gazed at the floor.  “No?”

“No.  Now get out so I can get dressed.”  He hesitated a moment more, not making any attempt to leave.  “What?” I shrieked.