Rebel Heart (23 page)

"Yes. The codicil. It seems it was added just before he died."

"My father would never do that. It was forged."

"There's where you're wrong. He did. And he made it perfectly clear that there would be no way out of it for either party. I thought you knew of this."

She shook her head, yet she wondered about his words. Perhaps it was true. Maybe her father had decided it was for her own good and he was determined he would choose a suitable husband.

Impossible. Her father believed in love and romance. He would never condemn her to a life of misery with a man she couldn't love.

"And just who does this codicil say I'm to marry?"

"Cameron Savage," he said flatly, turning and walking away from her.

"No!" she whispered.

"Dr. Cameron Savage."

Tori hurried up behind him then, slamming a fist against his back. The blow hurt the side of her hand, but she had struck with all the force she could muster. He paused a moment before turning on her angrily.

"Never!" she cried out. "I'll never marry that thieftaker!" She was petrified, horrified at the fear that ripped through her on hearing that name. Savage! Truly, a name never fit a man so well. She had never forgotten the feel of his hand against her breast. And far worse, she had never been able to forget the strange curling sensations that heated her own body when he'd held her against him.

Savage had not known who she was that day. Jonathan had assured her over and over again until she wanted to stop asking, but she'd never quite believed him.

Savage was everything she hated in the Mountain people today; he had his freedom, he was arrogant, he was a barbarian.

No, she told herself. He might be a barbarian but he was not Morray. He did not make her skin crawl.

Her breasts heaved from gasping at air and she folded her arms against her chest to control it. With a wife, he would be demanding, unfeeling. She could still feel the sting of his words and the iron grip he'd held her with. Still see the annoying, sexy curve of his smile.

Purification! He had threatened it more than once--she'd never forgive him.

If she dared exit the City on a foraging trip, he would demand...

She didn't dare think that they could have a marriage of equality, a modern marriage, one where man and woman shared equally in decisions. The impact this would have on her life shattered her peace of mind and she suddenly felt totally subdued. She would have no choice, no freedom. All that she cherished would be taken from her. Tori DeMontville had to be free to explore and to seek out the life-giving serum that she'd dedicated her life to finding.

Savage would never understand. He was one of them--a thieftaker. Lower than the lowest scum on this earth. He wore their emblem. She would never become his wife. Never!

She cried inwardly for all she had so suddenly lost. Heedless of The Phantom's power over her, of his deathly barbaric strength so unlike the City people, she pummeled his chest, this time with such ferocity that he swore softly, catching her wrists, holding them. Tears slid down her cheeks, but she struggled against him still, fought to maintain her identity, yet this time she battled him with words.

"You. I don't understand you. You came for me just as Morray's men. Only you are more deceitful. You came under the guise of friendship."

"I owe your father. I came for him, no one else," the Phantom declared, gently pushing her away. He had reached inside the glider, claiming several blankets and a large covered basket, then walked away, leaving her behind. He seemed to know she would not try to run again. And she knew he was going to the cave, knew he meant to stay.

Even as she slowly made her way to the dark opening, he stepped inside, beckoning to her, then disappeared. A moment later there was a soft flare of light somewhere deep inside the cave.

Stubbornly, Tori lingered just outside, hesitant.

Savage! This night was not what she'd expected.

She should simply start walking.

You would not get far, a little voice warned her ominously.

He appeared again a moment later, striding toward his glider. He ignored her, and Tori realized he meant to cover the glider. He was a man who left nothing to fate, she realized. He stroked the side of the fuselage then looked more closely, an imaginary scratch, she surmised. It would serve him right. Then he turned and stared at her. As he moved, the sun finally burst from the edge of the horizon, bathing the clearing and the woods in glorious sunshine.

His eyes seemed to narrow once more. She knew he studied her, perhaps seeking out her weakness and her strength. She didn't like the feeling as she felt his gaze pour over her then into her as if he could see to the depth of her soul. Then when he looked up and winked, she felt heat deep in her core, felt it travel the length of her spine, radiating outward with each nerve ending.

She was aware of the desire emanating from him, a desire for her and her alone. She'd never felt anything at all like this.

The tattered remains of her shirt caught a breeze, fluttering softly, touching her skin. With each caress, she was reminded of his fingers and the way he had held her tenderly. He'd never hurt her. As they watched each other, she felt, to her great embarrassment, the hardening of her nipples beneath the fabric of her shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest but then realized the movement accented everything she wished to hide. She was sure he could see beneath her clothes.

He laughed suddenly, and she felt heat surge to her cheeks.

She had assumed he found her desirable, had even thought she'd read that emotion in his eyes.

Fool, she told herself. He was impossible. She straightened, managing to add an inch to her meager height, standing defiantly before him. "Who are you? Take off your mask."

His eyebrow rose again. "Why, Victoria DeMontville, I thought you knew who I am."

"I want your name. Not a fictitious myth that all know is false."

"Ah, babe. That is for you to find out.

“Who are you?" she stubbornly asked again.

He gave her that boyish grin again, a grin that made his eyes twinkle mischievously and spoke of the devil himself. The change in him touched her in a way she didn't want to acknowledge, touched her heart with a longing she didn't understand. It made her laugh and perhaps ruffle his hair, while at the same time it stirred a heat deep inside.

"The Phantom." His laugh was low and sexy, vibrating through the space between them. It sent shivers of warmth and desire up her spine once more.

"After all you've put me through, I deserve to know."

"What I've put you through? No, babe, I think this is only a challenge for you. I'm not the type to let a challenge go unanswered, neither am I the kind to back down. You should have to work at the knowledge you want."

She cocked her head to one side, "A challenge is it. Then consider yourself the loser. I mean to find out your true identity."

"Do you now?" The light banter didn't fool her, and the dangerous current just below the surface gave her warning, yet she wasn't about to stop.

"I believe I can do anything I put my mind to. Beware," she told him. "I will know the truth."

"A child playing with fire. Be careful not to get burned." His insouciant drawl didn't override the dangerous tone or the subtle inference.

"You're the one who needs to be wary." She turned her back on him, trying to conceal her growing frustration. "And what have you done for me? We're lost somewhere between here and nowhere. I could have done that by myself, thank you."

"Think so?" he replied lazily. "You didn't have the courage to go down the ladder. Without my help you'd probably still be dangling there."

"I could have managed. I've gone down that ladder more times than I care to remember," she said indignantly. "I slipped. It's not my fault the ladder was faulty."

"Or rusty," he added pleasantly. "Well, it doesn't matter any longer now does it? We've gone on to other problems, haven't we?" She looked inside the cave, cringing then suddenly stepping back. All traces of a smile were wiped from her expression. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"What's wrong?"

She was surprised when he at last seemed to be aware of her fear, his inspection of her different this time. He looked beyond her outward appearance and she was sure he noticed the slight trembling of her legs, the paleness of her face, because if she guessed right, it was by now a deathly shade of white. Then she was sorry she had stepped back, afraid she had given herself away, because he was striding across the short distance to her and sweeping her into his arms again. "Put me down." Her words were tremulous yet panic-stricken. She struggled against the iron hold. "I'm not going in--"

"Yes, you are," he said wearily, "or I cannot be responsible for your safety."

"Then don't be!" she cried out, suddenly regaining her voice. "You've rescued me from Morray. What else is there left for you to do? I am responsible for me--not you. Can't you understand?"

"But I have not taken you to Dr. Savage," he informed her. "And until I do..." His words hung in the air, there meaning implicit.

She closed her eyes, tensing even as he stooped and turned sideways to bring them both through the slender opening of the cave. She was sure he must be able to hear her heart slamming against her chest.

"You mean to keep me here until Cameron Savage deigns to come for me? Am I your prisoner then?"

"Perhaps--but then I could take you to him. Either way you will have to accept his decision."

"You have no right," she broke off quickly at the sudden flash in his eyes that threatened her. "What year do you think this is?"

As he let her go, he laughed, a low husky sound, an infuriating sound, making her blood boil instantly.

"From the terms of the betrothal contract Savage told me about, I'd say the year is somewhere in the sixteenth century--give or take a couple hundred years."

"What is your connection to Savage?"

He paused a moment then said, "That also is none of your concern. But Dr. Savage is, as you well know, a valued research scientist and a world-renowned physician. He was friend to Advisor DeMontville, your father, holding sacred the values that they fought to keep intact during his rule. Excuse me, Victoria, but do you still fight the wishes of your father even now when he can no longer defend his intent? Didn't your banishment teach you anything?"

"I hold my father in great esteem, but you're asking me to believe the unbelievable, to accept the word of a wild maniacal glider pilot," she retorted.

She suddenly found herself pulled further inside the cave and turned to face her would-be-rescuer, her opponent now. He had lit several lamps when he had entered the cave the first time, and Tori quickly determined the cave must go on for miles beneath the mountain.

Tremors ripped through her.

This place smelled musty and dank. Spider webs clung to the damp ceiling, and she was sure she could hear the scurrying of little feet. She shivered once more then closed her eyes and prayed that when she opened them again, she wouldn't be here.

"Stay," he told her, then turned again. He vanished out the cavern opening, disappearing into the sunlight and the warmth.

Stay here? No. She couldn't.

Perhaps when she'd suggested he have a pleasant walk the idea was not such a bad one. It would be preferable to staying here, because she had no idea she would tremble and quake inside a cave. First, he submitted her to the wildest ride of her life and now this. When she touched her cheeks, they felt clammy and cold. Her pulse raced and she could barely breathe. She was trembling in her boots--too bad she didn't have any. Eventually, if she followed a trail, she was bound to find a settlement, and that of course had endless possibilities. All she needed was a communication device and a few moments to contact Nessa. Sweet adorable Nessa.

He came back in through the opening, blocking the sunlight with his broad shoulders. He was carrying what looked to be more supplies. She felt the heat of his gaze on her as he approached her, and a mysterious warmth curled in the pit of her stomach radiating outward. It was like the curious feeling she'd had earlier. His knuckles grazed her cheeks, then the back of his hand touched her forehead. A strange unease flashed like wildfire within her limbs.

"What's wrong?" He reached out, gently touching the side of her face where sweat beaded. "Why are you so afraid?

She swallowed hard. "I don't like it in here," she whispered, her voice thready and very low. She nearly cried out when he swept her into his arms again, gently carrying her to the blankets he'd laid out earlier.

Without thinking, she clung to him, shaking from an irrational fear of this place, uncaring that he was determined to bring her to Cameron Savage. He brushed her hair from her eyes then lifted her hand in his.