The Mandate of Heaven (2 page)

“What are you talking about?  Who are you?” she demanded, blinking the sleep from her eyes, starting to sit up, grasping the sheet to her chest, her confusion rapidly giving way to anger.

“You shouldn’t be awake, because I haven’t kissed you, yet,” Alex explained patiently, a smirk appearing on his lips.  The idea that suddenly struck him was ludicrous, childlike in its simplicity, but for some reason it appealed to him.  “I was told that there was a sleeping beauty locked away in this tower, waiting for a prince to kiss her and wake her from her endless slumber.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong room,” Jessica murmured, her lips slowly curving upwards into a smile, as she relaxed slightly when it became obvious that he didn’t mean her any immediate harm.

“I’m not so sure,” Alex responded, with a mock pout.  “For I certainly have come across a sleeping beauty, but she awoke before I could kiss her.  I fear that I am too late, for has the handsome prince been and gone?  If so, he was a fool to ever leave you behind.”

At this she actually laughed, her eyes lighting up, sparkling like sapphires, as she sat up so that the two of them were eye-to-eye.  “I’ve been kissed by many princes, but none particularly inspired me.  Perhaps it was just because I haven’t yet met the right one.”

Alex was about to reply, to suggest that if she went back to sleep he would kiss her awake and then she could compare, when the expression on her face began to change.  Her eyes widening, her smile replaced with a grimace, followed soon after by a snarl of anger and, possibly, even a hint of fear.  That final look bothered Alex the most, as he followed her gaze to his hand, which had come to rest on the edge of the bed, and what was still grasped in it.

Jessica began to scramble away from him, her progress impeded by the sheets that she had become hopelessly entangled in.  “What?” she cried out.  “You were just trying to distract me with a charming smile and sweet words, before you gutted me?  That was your plan, to take me by surprise?  Some sick, perverted fantasy to get you off on?”

“No.  It’s nothing like that,” he insisted.  “Give me a minute to explain.”  Alex made a desperate grab for her, as she, giving up trying to disentangle herself from the sheets, instead settled on rolling away from him, reaching out for something.

With one arm keeping hold of her, the other still grasping the knife and trying to take care not to impale either of them with it, Alex only noticed the pistol at the last minute.

What sort of lady keeps a gun under her pillow?

He was so shocked that he only realised the danger at the very last moment, because with both hands full of woman and knife, he had no way to defend himself.  It was probably fortunate that having managed to keep a firm grip on her, he was still too close for her to actually shoot him.

But that didn’t stop her slamming the weapon against the bridge of his nose.

Alex saw stars.

A moment later a tidal wave of pain engulfed him, emanating from his nose.  It was probably unfortunate that he was still perched precariously on the edge of the bed, as following the impact of the barrel of the gun, he instinctively reared back, shying away from the blow, leaning backwards—only to be faced with nothing but air. Frantically he grasped at anything that he could use to break his fall, but succeeded in only catching the edge of a sheet.  Then he was falling, falling, clawing vainly at nothing but fresh air.  Unable to see, blinded after being struck in the face, for an instant he thought he heard an unladylike squeak of surprise, but before it could register he toppled back to the floor.  While the drop was only a few feet it was enough to stun him and, before he could recover, another object landed on his chest, causing the air to rush from his lungs.

Alex just continued to lay there, stunned.  It wasn’t until he felt a warm, soft and decidedly feminine body sprawled across him start to wiggle indignantly, that he risked opening one eye.

He came face-to-face with a pair of flashing eyes, belonging to his assailant.  He was fascinated to observe that they seemed to have flecks of green and gold in them when she was angry.  He wondered if he should mention it, but decided against it after noticing her outraged expression.  “You need to stop wriggling,” he insisted.

“Don’t even think of moving,” Jessica warned, brandishing the pistol in her hand that was now stuck just underneath his chin.  “I know how to use this,” she threatened.

“I can see that,” Alex replied resignedly.  “But you really must stop wriggling, as I can assure you that my response to this is completely involuntary, I have absolutely no control over it, especially when you are rubbing against my groin
, like a cat in heat
.”

Jessica blushed a bright shade of fuchsia, when she finally understood his meaning; fortunately, she also stopped her squirming while perched atop of him, still hopelessly entangled in the sheet.  “I’ll shoot you, if I feel
any
type of movement,” she promised him nastily.  “Now raise your hands, keep them up where I can see them.”

“Well that will certainly put a dampener on my ardour,” Alex sighed out loud, but followed her instructions anyway.  He felt like a complete fool, lying on his back on the floor, with her on top of him, her pistol still stuck in his gullet.  “I need to have a serious word with your father as I cannot believe that he gave you a pistol to keep under your
pillow
!”

“It belonged to my brother and he taught me how to use it.”

“Then I need to have a long chat with him, no wonder you don’t have any suitors climbing the trellises outside your window.  You probably shot the first few and word got around thereafter.”

“My brother is dead, he died when I was still young,” Jessica corrected him sadly.

Alex stared at her in surprise, having no brothers or sisters of his own he could not imagine ever losing one, but he was sure that it must have been devastating.  “I’m sorry,” he said, gently lowering his hands until they rested on top of the sheet. He could feel the warmth from her back emanating through the thin layer.  While he felt her briefly tense, he was relieved that she didn’t shoot him, as that would have completely ruined the moment.  After a brief hesitation he started to run his hands along her back, from her neck and shoulders all the way down to her waist, then back up again, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“What? What are you doing?” she stuttered.

“My hands, they were getting cramped. I’m just trying to restore the circulation in them,” Alex lied earnestly, continuing to stroke her through the sheet, resting his head back on the floor, before he really did get a cramp in his neck.  He felt what suspiciously seemed like her head resting on his chest, but he didn’t want to lift his head to confirm it and ruin the ambiance.

“So what are we going to do now?” she asked softly.

“I’m in no rush, I don’t have any other sleeping beauties to go kissing awake tonight, if that’s what you mean.”  He heard what suspiciously sounded like a giggle coming from the region of his chest, but decided to just lie back and enjoy the moment.  It seemed strange lying there, staring up at the ceiling, with the moonlight seeping into the room. It felt like the two of them were alone, in their own perfect dream world.  His earlier opinion of the night had been spot on.  It was the perfect night for a secret rendezvous between two lovers.  Now if only…

“We can’t stay like this all night; somebody might find us.  Think of my reputation.  I’m meant to be getting married in a few months.”

“Your reputation?  Married?” Alex replied, astonished.  “Think of my head.  I’m sure that your father would be happy to separate it from my body if he was to find me here, with you, in this compromising position.  Anyway, if you keep quiet nobody will hear us.”

Even before he had finished speaking the words, he definitely knew that this had been the wrong thing to say.  He quickly lifted his head up, to stare once again into her beautiful eyes, but this time they were unfocused.  Alex swore that he could bore into them and observe her thought process.  Suddenly he realised he could identify the exact moment that she reached the same conclusion.

“Jessica.  No,” he whispered, urgently.

“I’m sure that it is all just a misunderstanding.  I’ll talk to my father and explain, he doesn’t need to know
everything
.”  She emphasised the word, frowning.  “I promise you that he won’t harm you.  I’ll even deal with my fiancé, although we have only met once and I hear that he has a dreadful temper, I’m sure that once I explain to Lord Stanton—”

“Stanton?” Alex interrupted, astounded.  “Your betrothed is High-Lord Stanton?” His thoughts were in a whirl, as he mentally flicked through everything that he read from the briefing notes, but no, there had been no mention of any sort of relationship, personal or otherwise with Stanton.

If he had known, he would never have gone anywhere
near
her.

Not that he had anything to fear from the man anyway. High-Lord Stanton had been dead for a number of years now, but as for his son who had inherited the title—Alex shivered, but not from the cold.  He had much to fear from the son and, knowing him, death would be the least of his worries.

“Jessica.  No,” he repeated, but this time feeling the first hint of panic well up from inside him.  If Stanton found him, but it was already too late.  He could hear her take a deep breath and the way her diaphragm expanded, feel the rush of air into her lungs. Any minute now the air would reverse direction, she would expel it and, as it rushed over her vocal cords, she would call out.  He had to stop her. There was no other choice.  Nothing else mattered.  So he took the only option left open to him.

Lifting his hands until he had a firm grip on both sides of her head, he let his eyes drift closed and, with a sudden jerk of his hands, crushed her lips against his. His mouth fully covering hers, with his lips forming a tight seal, the shout was drowned out as she exhaled into his mouth.

He kissed her.

Tentatively at first, almost afraid she’d disappear in his arms, but this wasn’t enough.  Passion swirled to life within him and he pulled her closer, revelling in the soft press of her body against his.  She was the perfect size for him, small in that way that made a man want to slay dragons.  She felt like a woman, warm and lush in all the right places.  His hand ached to close around her waist, to run his hands all along her perfect curves.  But even he would not be so bold, not with a stranger, in her own home.

Still, he was not ready to let her go.  Her smell reminded him of his own cherished home, of soft rain and sun-kissed meadows.  Jessica felt like the best kind of heaven.  He wanted to wrap himself around her, to breathe in her scent and stay there for all of his days.  He hadn’t had a drop to drink in hours, but he was intoxicated now, bubbling with a lightness he’d never thought to feel again.

It was madness.  It had to be.

She was too startled to protest, then too overcome with surprise to break away.  Breaking the contact, she gasped, any coherent thought regarding crying out quickly forgotten.

He wrestled to catch her mouth once again with his and imagined his arms locked around her as he rolled them onto her bed.  With a slow slide against her bottom lip and a languid brush with the tip of his tongue, he could see moonlit nights spent outdoors with her under a blanket of stars.  He delved deeply as though he was dying of thirst and had thoughts that he shouldn’t have had.  She in his life, a shining light, banishing all those dark places in his soul, being able to wake up with her every day, with a brood of kids running into their bedroom every morning.  Laughter and happiness echoing throughout his empty home.

Not wanting to ever let her go, he pulled her closer in his arms, rolling them over and pushed her back to the floor.  One arm slid around her waist, while his other hand gripped behind her neck, to firmly hold her in place while he devoured her mouth.

The most bizarre dilemma of his life took place, as she tried to squirm away in an effort to voice her objections, while he trumped them all with his patient, sensual kissing.  He stole her breath, melted her urgency and she fell into a pattern with him that felt like dancing.  He guessed that they had developed an understanding as no other explanation existed for the perfect harmony, the blissful lazy-jubilant exchange, that made him feel as though they were long time lovers.

She shook her head, her eyes wide with caution.  “I can’t be seen like this,” she whispered frantically.

He let her go, not because she’d asked him to, but because he thought if he didn’t he might never be able to relinquish his hold from her.

After releasing her from his arms, her body trembling in surrender, panting most unladylike for breath, he pulled back and pleaded. “Please.  Just give me a chance to explain.  I didn’t come here to harm you, quite the opposite, as I need to warn you.”

“I can’t breathe,” she complained, interrupting him.

Alex blinked, breaking his train of thought.  “The kiss?”

“No,” she interjected again.  “I mean I can’t breathe, what with you lying on me and this damn sheet.”

Laughing, Alex rolled off her and onto his own two feet, offered her his hand, like a gentleman, helping her to stand.

“Help me out of this, can you?” she indicated the white sheet that she was still tightly bound with.