Tristan's Loins (17 page)

"What is a loony bin?" Tristan asked
suspiciously.

"It is a place where they put insane people,"
Selene said with a giggle and hugged him fiercely.

"You wish for me to lie to them?"

"Tristan, I ask you to stay as close to the
truth as you can without telling them their daughter has run off
with a character in her book. Just stay within whatever boundaries
of the truth you can without telling them that is all I ask."

"You’re ashamed of me?" Tristan snapped and
drew away, frowning darkly.

"No! You misunderstand! You’re one of the few
things I happen to be proud of, but my parents will not believe all
of this. Please trust me. Do not tell them."

Tristan accepted her words, but he appeared
disturbed she asked him to say nothing of the magical circumstances
of their meeting at all.

"Selene, they are your parents. Why can you
not trust them enough to be honest?" Tristan said with clear
disdain.

She cringed at his obvious displeasure,
recalling she had also written him to be disgustingly honest.
Asking him to lie to her parents to spare them their shock was
obviously asking a lot. She stared up at him and held both his
hands in hers, her golden eyes filled with certainty.

"Tristan, my Father is a very learned man; a
scholar. He could not begin to believe any of this. With my
Mother's health so frail, I would not have him worry his daughter
is a nutjob. Now do you see?"

Tristan did and rubbed her hands, visibly
relaxing. "I understand and I’ll not say anything to get us tossed
in the loony bin, I promise."

"Good, because I may get out, but they would
keep you if you told them who you’re," she said and giggled at his
outraged expression.

Tristan pulled her into his arms, nuzzling
her neck and inhaling her fragrance. "Ah, Selene, I would say
anything to be with you."

Selene held onto him tightly and smiled
against his shirt, closing her eyes and enjoying his big strong
arms around her. He pulled her with him, a renewed look of desire
in his gaze as he led her to her bedroom. She dragged her heels in
feeble protest as he picked her up and carried her to her bed.

Tristan lay down next to her and smiled as he
smoothed her hair off her forehead, lowering to kiss her there. He
seemed in no hurry to ravish her and she lifted her head, but he
pushed her back down, his big palm square in the middle of her
forehead.

"You will lay back and rest your mind now,
Selene," he ordered softly, his blue eyes filled with
determination. "You have black rings under your eyes because you
hardly sleep at all since I arrived. You need rest. I’ll look after
the dog. I do not want you up until you’re rested."

"There is too much to do," she argued and
tried to get up but he pushed her back down. "Tristan we have to
pack, I have calls to make."

"You will rest before you do anything." He
refused to allow her to get up. "You do your Mother no good
arriving exhausted. You will sleep and I’ll work upon my
letters."

"If you’re sure you will be ok?"

"Selene, I’m a grown man who has seen his
share of battle," Tristan said with an indignant scowl. "I’m up for
watching over your dwelling while you nap."

Selene felt exhausted and nodded, her golden
eyes simmering in amusement at his reaction. She sighed, yawning
deeply, her eyes never leaving his face. His handsome visage was
the last she saw as her eyelids fluttered shut. She slept deeply,
not rousing to the phone or even Daisy's excited barking when
Tristan played with her in the living room that day.

She got up and it was dark in her room. She
stumbled out of bed and went out into the living room, panic in her
gaze until she saw Tristan seated at the bar working in his book.
She relaxed and stepped out into the living room, her gaze going to
the clock on the microwave, widening to know she had slept six
hours. It was nearly seven in the evening.

"How did you sleep?" he asked without looking
up from his book.

"Like a dead person," she replied and petted
her dog when Daisy came to her side, wagging her tail.

"You must be hungry?" she asked as she came
into the kitchen to open the refrigerator.

"I’m not hungry, Selene." He leaned upon his
elbows. "I’ll not have you toiling to cook for me."

"Tristan, I just spent two hundred dollars on
groceries," she said with a scowl. "You will eat!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You would command me
to eat now?"

Selene glared at him, her golden eyes
narrowing. "If I have to sit on your lap and force feed you,
I’ll."

"Very well, you may feed me from my lap," he
said softly, smiling and enjoying her angry flushed cheeks and
sparkling eyes.

Selene could see he was playing with her and
relaxed, shaking her head at him. "You do that just to get on my
nerves."

"It is too easy to resist," he said with a
grin. "I think you should teach me to cook and I can help you with
these chores."

"You? Cook?" she asked doubtfully, thinking
he would start a fire if he attempted such. "Since when does an
English lord cook?"

"This English lord spent many a night chasing
his meals in the woods and had little choice of it, Selene," he
replied in an outraged tone. "I’m not helpless."

Selene could see he was determined to help
out, even if he thought cooking a chore for servants as he had said
before. It pleased her that he showed such an interest just to
please her and prove he was capable.

"Alright, wash your hands, and we will make
dinner." Selene smiled as he got up from the bar and came around to
wash his hands in the sink. She handed him a dishtowel and watched
as he rolled up the sleeves to his shirt.

She decided to start with something simple,
taking the steaks he loved and showed him how to tenderize them
first. She took out the portable electric grill, plugged it in, and
sprayed it with non-stick spray. He watched her and she got busy
making a salad. He helped her rinse and chop lettuce and tomatoes
and onion and green peppers into a bowl. She showed him how to toss
it. He seemed impressed with the grill as they put on the
steaks.

She took out a bottle of red wine and poured
them both a glass. He sipped his and sighed at the flavor. "I can
truthfully say the spirits are much better in this century," he
claimed and set down the glass to watch the steaks cook, fascinated
they did not have to build a cook fire.

"Is it so awful there?"

Tristan considered her words and smiled
sadly. "People sicken and die young of things readily cured in this
age. The young die of diseases you get shots for now. Criminals run
rampant, ready to slit your throat for your purse. It is a brutal
period. The nobles are not noble at all, but creatures that are sly
and talk out both sides of their mouth. The women are liars, all of
them. They feign indifference when even feeling passion, as if to
deny themselves is expected. But there is beauty, simplicity, in
it, that is no longer here."

"You did not answer my question, "she
remarked as she took out a bottle of Italian dressing.” Do you miss
it?"

Tristan shrugged and looked away from her
searching gaze. "I do, surprisingly enough. There, I’m someone
important, even if I have to fight tooth and nail to get what was
stolen from me. Here, I feel like I’m nothing, but what you see in
me."

Selene paused as she set down the dressing,
her golden eyes seeing his struggle now. "And Gideon, you miss him
as well?"

"He was like a father and a closest friend, a
teacher, and a brother. I do miss him."

"And Rhiannon, how do you feel about
her?"

Tristan swung to face her, anger in his gaze.
"I feel not what I should, Selene. She is beautiful, yes, but to
win her would have been impossible given our start, don't you
agree?"

"That is my fault."

"You could not have known." He looked down at
the steaks. "Why do we talk of this? It is you that I love, not
her."

"Have you thought of her at all while you
have been here?" she asked and fretted to think of what thoughts
lie behind his implacable expression.

"It guilt's me, yes. If you must know; I feel
terrible about what I did to her," he said and he poked at the
steaks with a fork. "Had I not been so quick to ruin her, to make
her bend to me, when she clearly would not; she would be attended
by ever suitor in the land now."

"What will you do if this magic that brought
you here takes you back?" she asked quietly.

Tristan looked at her with a resolved
expression. "I’ll do as you asked of me, Selene. I’ll try to gain
her forgiveness."

Selene felt her heart clench at the thought
of losing him now. Each time she closed her eyes, he could
disappear. She had begun to need him, depend upon him for something
that she had lacked and never known existed. Thinking of his living
happily ever after, back with Rhiannon made her feel tormented.

"I created her too, and I’m jealous of her."
Selene leaned against the counter, closing her eyes as a wave of
unexplainable sorrow passed through her. "That is the worst of it.
I feel as though I stole you from her."

Tristan came to her, his blue eyes filled
with emotion. "I wanted to be with you, Selene. I did not want the
life you gave to me. You put obstacles in our way we were supposed
to overcome because of love. I saw no chance of love with her, only
you."

Selene nodded, knowing he meant what he said.
Still, her guilt she left some poor girl alone in a castle for
eternity nagged at her. She was quiet during dinner. He saw her
melancholy and said nothing. She knew this unreasonable guilt over
Rhiannon was ridiculous. She was not real, like Tristan.

Out of all the characters in her book, it was
he who had come alive, if only by her hand too. Perhaps devoting so
much time to create him, she had neglected the others. She had been
so hurt over her marriage falling apart. Creating Tristan had given
her hope.

"What do you think of sneaking down to the
pool?" he asked as he sipped his wine.

"We can if you want to. You don't have any
swim trunks."

He raised an eyebrow and she chuckled.
Tristan would not wear them even if he had them. However, just to
be on the safe side, he had to wear something down there. The pool
was always deserted in the evening, she knew. A feeling of
excitement was felt too skinny dip with Tristan. She had never done
it in her life, and always wanted to, under the right
circumstances. Feeling as she did made, her hurry to load the
dishwasher and retire to her room to dig out her bathing suit. She
found a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and grabbed two towels from
the bathroom. He waited at the door, looking so appealing, she
wanted to grab him and drag him back to the bedroom, but he wanted
to swim.

They entered the pool and found it deserted,
as she knew it would be. Tristan took off his tennis shoes on a
bench as she went to the ladies room to change into her suit. She
returned and he was already in the pool.

He floated on his back, his long powerful
body floating upon the top of the water, giving her an
unprecedented view of his nakedness. She felt herself growing warm,
even if it was nearly eighty-five degrees in the pool area. She
tossed their towels on the bench, walked to the shallow end, and
tested the water with her toe, sighing at the warmth of the
water.

She felt self-conscious in the hot pink
bikini she had bought last summer, knowing it was ridiculous
considering the intimacies they had already shared. Tristan seemed
to love her body. She felt unequal to the bountiful CJ Parker he
had obsessed over when he watched his first episode of
Baywatch.

Tristan ogled her boldly as he swan near, a
distinctly pleased expression on his face as he watched her step
down to get into the pool. His eyes traced the slim perfection of
her legs, adoring every lovely curve until they were submerged from
his gaze. Swimming to her, he saw how her golden eyes seem so
saddened.

He longed for her in a way he could not
explain since hearing her voice in his room. It was more than love.
The emotion was too powerful for him to put into words. She was
better at putting letters together than him. Even she could not
have known how he really felt for her. At the lowest point in his
existence, it was Selene who gave him hope.

The thought of being forced out of her world
by some inexplicable force made him angry. He was careful not to
show her how frustrated he was. He did not know how long this
enchantment would last. She could disappear tomorrow and he would
live eternally in her writings.

Tristan knew he had been born the day she
typed upon her keyboard. His existence was created by the magic in
her mind. He had felt anger, raw and bitter to know it, but had
reasoned his purpose had been to find happiness with her. It was
his one mark of defiance in her book that Selene could not have
known of, his using the ring's power to seek her out instead of his
betrothed, Lady Rhiannon of Severn.

Selene was going to so much trouble to create
false lives; she forgot how to enjoy her own. He was conscious he
would be forced out of her world eventually. Just thinking of
returning to the castle where his intended seethed in her angry
tower at his mere presence made him cringe in denial.

The beautiful and elegant Rhiannon had wanted
no part of him from the start, even with Selene's clever plot
twists. Those enchanting violet eyes had looked at him in icy
disdain. The fire of her glorious red hair had hinted at passion.
She bit and scratched at him when he tried to kiss her. He had used
every bit of his skills to seduce her that night in the woods after
he kidnapped her. She was as cold as a frigid winter's night,
unwelcoming and unforgiving as he took her upon the hard ground.
She had cursed him as he took her innocence, vowing to hate him
forever. There was no choice.