Dangerous Exile by K.J. Jackson
{ Chapter 8 }
“Take another drink, you’re panting.”
Ness gasped in a quick breath, licking her lips. “You’re making me work hard.” With pillow feathers still floating from high in the air down about her head, Talen watched Ness sit on the edge of a hard caned chair and pick up the teacup from the side table. The tea long since cooled, she took several sips, as proper as if she were poised in a Mayfair drawing room—not sitting above his gaming hell with tufts of white feathers landing starkly against her dark hair.
The pillow that she’d just destroyed against the blade Talen had approached her with had been a brilliant move. The pillow had protected her hand while snagging the dagger and giving her a chance to yank it out of his hand. Plus, an explosion of feathers had filled the air. More precious seconds for her to run from an attacker.
An odd mixture of pride and surprise filled him. She’d done well. Not enough to set her onto the streets of the rookeries, but she would be able to survive for far longer than she would have when they first started this. That was key.
She glanced to her left, plucking several feathers off her shoulder. Good thing there wasn’t a mirror in his office or Talen would be watching her pluck feathers from her head for some time, for as many as had attached into her loose chignon.
She did that, he’d realized during the past days. She was always conscious of how she was presenting herself, how she looked. Innate movements she couldn’t control. Whether or not she was sitting properly. How straight her spine was. How smooth her hair lay. Someone had trained her well long ago for a life of privilege. Someone else had demanded perfection of her since then.
His stare should have moved off of her seconds ago, but he couldn’t quite do it.
It didn’t help that she was entirely too fetching. She’d been a prize for some peer—probably the same man that had broken her. Though how any man could have bruised a face like hers was beyond him.
To destroy such beauty. Sacrilege.
And to see such beauty sitting in the mess of his office, her cheeks flush from training with him, her peculiar amber eyes aglow with adrenaline, feathers landing in her hair—all of it made the crux of him twinge alive when he needed to keep his cock down and on the narrow.
He didn’t want her. Couldn’t want her.
Juliet had sent Ness to him to protect. Not to bed.
He wasn’t about to sabotage this mission, for heaven knows what Juliet would demand of him next time if he failed to keep Ness safe. And taking Ness into his bed would not be safe. For either of them.
Setting her cup down on the side table, she scooted deeper on the chair and leaned back, letting her shoulders touch the rear of the chair. The motion looked uncomfortable, even though he could see she was attempting to relax for a moment and catch her breath.
She looked up at him. “Why do you not let me from my room except when you come and get me? I am itching to escape those four walls, and while your office is a nice change of pace, it would be interesting to see what other rooms are in this building.”
Stalling with conversation, as she liked to do. He liked to keep her on her toes, keep the blood pumping in her veins. She liked to take breaks and rest.
But there was no rest if someone was attacking you. He knew that well. A fact he hadn’t been able to quite convince her of.
“The books have not kept you entertained?”
“I appreciate them, I do. But one can only stare at words on paper for so long. These training bouts with you are the only thing that has kept my mind from turning to complete porridge during these last days. It would just be nice to expand the tiny world my life has become.”
“No.” He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your room. My office. That is the extent of your realm. The rest of this place—it is not for a woman such as yourself.”
“Weak?”
“Innocent.”
She sighed, her head angling to the side as she stared up at him. “I’m not as innocent as you believe.”
“No?” All of the feathers had finally floated to the ground and he kicked through them on the floor until he found his dagger by the tattered remains of the blue silk pillow. He bent down to pick it up and slipped it into the sheath alongside his boot. “What’s a drop-cove? What’s a skin? A gull? A bravo? A snaffler?” He stood straight, looking at her.
Her mouth quirked to the right side in an annoyed smile. She lifted her shoulders.
“Make no mistake, you’re an innocent, Ness. And I know Juliet meant to keep you so. She may have sent you here, but she sure as hell didn’t intend for you to be corrupted.”
“Why did she send me to you?”
“Because she’s smart. She knew I could do what she wanted.”
A slow nod bobbed her head, then she stilled, her amber eyes suddenly searching his face. “Juliet—you are enamored with her?”
“A ridiculous question.” Talen strode across the room and picked up the new decanter of brandy. The red-brown liquid slid along the inside of the smooth glass neck as he poured himself a drink and he realized he actually liked this decanter more than the one Ness broke the day before. Such fine brandy had spilled all over the floor. He’d been lucky that he’d dodged the swing of the decanter in time, or the cut glass would have sliced his forehead deep. He’d created somewhat of a monster in Ness. She now had no trouble in destroying everything in this room.
Except for the books. She’d never once endangered a book.
“Is it ridiculous?”
He picked up the glass tumbler with his left hand and turned back to Ness, leaning against the sideboard. “Isn’t everyone that meets Juliet enamored with her?”
A chuckle escaped through a smile that turned her full lips soft. “Yes, I suppose. She has a genuine charm about her that wraps one up—her soul actually cares about others, and that is a rarity.”
“Aye, it is.”
Ness picked up her teacup and took another sip, her eyes intent on him over the lip of the china. “The favor she called in on me, what made you owe her? How did she help you?”
He stared at her for a long second, then took the tiniest sip of his brandy. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
He wasn’t about to let her play ignorant. “You know.”
Her lips opened in a long exhale and she looked away from him at the line of windows. No activity below, as it would still be hours before the first patrons arrived for the evening’s gaming.
A quick breath and she sighed out a whisper. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
Her gaze swung back to him. “Fine.” Her right hand holding the teacup fell to rest on her lap and her lips pulled inward for a long second. “It was my husband that did this to me, though I’m sure you already deduced that.”
Her face had pinched at the words, a flush creeping into her cheeks. Shame.
The blood in his veins instantly boiled. Why innocent women always seemed to feel shame after being beaten by a man, he’d never been able to figure.
His suspicion that she was married confirmed. Another man’s property. “Who is your husband?”
“Gilroy Docherty.” Her look dropped from him to the floor in front of the fireplace. “He’s the grandson of the Earl of Whetland and he’s a vicious, evil bastard. I knew it within the first months of our marriage, but I was stuck in a cavernous, cold castle in Scotland with him. His power and reach stretch far and wide. There was no escape. He’d always been good at bruising me in places that were easily hidden by clothes. But the last time—this last time when he broke my arm and pummeled my face he didn’t care. He didn’t care what showed to the world for he was going to kill me anyway.”
Talen’s right hand curled into a fist. “The bastard was going to kill you?”
“He was done with me. I knew it days before he attacked me. What he was planning…I could see it in his eyes. He was a spider on a web, circling for days, deciding the best way it would be to dispose of me without anyone questioning it.”
Her voice wavering, her chest lifted high. “Then when he attacked, he swore he was going to kill me. I was worthless to him, not able to give him a babe, an heir. I lost two—two in the last four years.”
Her eyes filled with thick tears that overflowed quickly, uncontrolled streams down her cheeks as her voice dropped to a whisper. “The last one was formed, but he came too early. He was formed so well I could hold him. Hold him in my hand. He was so tiny, but everything was there. There for me to hold. I wanted him. Wanted him so badly.”
She paused for a long moment, the tears ceasing before she drew in a sharp breath. “Losing that babe broke me so thoroughly I knew Gilroy could never truly hurt me again. And the only reason I was able to walk through that pain was because Juliet appeared. Appeared out of nowhere and walked with me, an angel pulling me away from the edge of hell. For days she sat by my side when I was willing myself to die. If not for her stubbornness, I doubt I ever would have moved from that bed.”
A crack zigzagged down his chest, the pain he saw in her striking him raw. He’d seen pain like this before, but it had never moved into his own body like that, making him feel it just as keenly—the brokenness.
The lump in his throat raw, he had to take a sip of brandy before he could speak. “That is one of Juliet’s magical traits. Stubbornness.”
A sad smile flashed across Ness’s face. “I don’t know if she should have wasted her magic on me.” Her shoulders lifted high. “Maybe I am worthless. Maybe I should have stayed and let Gilroy do what he was determined to. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Juliet convince me there were more days to live where the pain wouldn’t consume. Let her convince me there was an escape from him.”
With each word, her voice sank into such defeat he wanted to shake her. Shake her until the fire and mirth she’d been in moments ago reappeared. Shake her until she looked around and saw there was still a world to live in—days where she could breathe and live and smile again.
He’d seen it in her, the smiles and laughter she was capable of. Smiles and laughter that had hidden all of this fear and terror from him for the last fortnight.
But at least now he finally had a name from her. The bastard she needed to be protected from.
His stare cut into her. “There is always an escape, Ness. You just need to know how to seize it.”
“That’s what you’re teaching me?”
“I hope. There’s always a way out. Always another day to live, as long as you trust it’s there for you.”
The fingertips of her left hand lifted to clear the wetness from her cheeks as her eyes lifted to him. “I am trying, Talen. I am. Even if it’s other people’s faith that I’ve been living upon these past weeks. Juliet’s. Yours. You both have wills that can move mountains, spit at death.”
He lifted his glass to her. “For good or for bad, sometimes. I don’t know when to stop and I don’t always know how it will turn out.”
A sharp chuckle left her lips. “This is supposed to be the moment when you convince me I’m safe—that you know what you’re doing. Not when you admit that you don’t.”
“Juliet sent you to me to protect, so let’s just say that right now, I’m living off her faith on that point as well.”
A wry smile crept across her face. “She better be as smart as I think she is.”
“Exactly.”
Ness took another sip of her tea and then looked at him, her voice steady once more. “Your turn. Why do you owe her?”
He didn’t hesitate. A deal was a deal. “Juliet saved my life.”
“How?”
“As in, she physically saved my life. A building was burning down around me and I had been knocked unconscious on the third floor. Juliet dragged me out of the building.”
Her jaw dropping, Ness leaned forward in the chair. “She what? By herself?”
“Aye. By herself. No one was left in the building. She had gotten all the women out of the place and then came back in for me.”
“That was the South Selkie brothel?”
He nodded.
Her eyes wide, she stared at him, her jaw still slack. “But Juliet is so small—taller than me, yes, but tiny compared to you. How did she manage that—getting you out when you were unconscious?”
“When I say dragged, I mean dragged. She dragged me down the stairs—I had a disjointed shoulder and the bruises from every step along the way to prove it.” His right hand lifted, bumping along an imaginary line as though going down stairs.
He shrugged. “But she got me out. And she only singed the bottom of her skirts in the process. Then she was beyond irate with me, kicking me awake. I had been under strict orders not to go to the brothel without her, as I’d just purchased the building and the women there didn’t quite trust me yet. But I went alone and brutes from a rival brothel were there. Nonsense ensued. Nonsense that Juliet would have mitigated. Regardless, I was knocked unconscious, and they set fire to the place.”
Her head shook. Whether she believed the story or not, he wasn’t quite sure. She truly had no knowledge of the machinations and danger of the underworld he thrived in.
Her look met his. “No wonder you love her.”
His left eyebrow cocked. “Love her?”
Ness nodded. “Juliet. How could you not?”
His lips pursed for a moment. “Aye, I suppose I do. I love her as the sister I never had, as family.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “You never wanted to be with her?”
“Bed her?” His head shook. “No, Juliet is worth far more to me as a friend than a bed partner. I respect her too much.”
Her mouth opened as though she was about to say something, but the words stalled. It took her a moment of staring at him before she continued. “So, the women you do bed—you don’t respect them?”
“How do you come by that conclusion?”
“I…” She shrugged.
Did he respect the women he bedded? Debatable. He kept his mouth clamped shut.
Her cheeks pinkened. “I…I just think that makes it wise for me to be your friend.”
Talen took a swallow of his brandy and set it down on the sideboard. He turned back to her, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Usually, my friends offer me something in return, but you, dear Ness, have only taken thus far.”
The insult hung between them, thickening the air for several pulsing seconds.
Until Ness jumped up from the chair, slamming the teacup down along the edge of the side table to break it, and then she ran at him, swinging the sharp shard of the porcelain still in her hand at his head.
With a laugh, he ducked. Baiting Ness was too easy. And he liked her angry. Coming at him.
He caught her elbow high in the air and twisted her arm outward as he wrapped his left arm around her waist and yanked her body hard onto the length of him.
With a fiery growl she wrenched her torso awkwardly to look up at him. Their faces only an inch apart, their hot breath entwined for far too long of a moment.
Excruciating.
The devil himself testing him—her body shifting against the front of him, the blasted scent of apricots in his nose, lips that screamed to be devoured.
Her mouth parted with an intake of breath as her amber eyes went wide. Wide, like she’d just seen down to the carnal core of him. Wide, like she wanted to explore that carnal darkness ready to escape.
All it would take was the slightest move of his head and her lips would be his. Tasting her. Molding her body to his. Dragging his hands down to the perfect mounds of her breasts.
But no.
No.
She was too wounded. Too married. Too much trouble that he didn’t need.
Juliet had known that.
Protect her. That was all.
He jerked his head back, dropping his hands from her waist and wrist as he stabbed a step away. He forced another chuckle to cover all that he’d just imagined doing to her body. “Good, I like to see the fire in you when you’re mad. Your angry swings are much better than your usual puny strikes.”
A screech and she swung the shard of the teacup at his head again. He dodged it, jumping toward the fireplace and kicking up feathers.
The shard of the teacup high and aimed at him, she stalked him. “The one thing I can bring you, you don’t want.” She struck, the sharp edge of the broken porcelain nicking his ear.
His hand flicked up to his ear and then he looked at his fingertips. Blood. The minx had made contact. He looked to her. “Which is?”
“Your past.”
His body instantly tightened at her words and his arm swung out, shoving her to the side as he stomped past her toward the door. His voice dropped, cold and vicious. “Aye, you’re right. I don’t want that. Don’t need that. Because you don’t know it.”
“But maybe it wants you,” she screamed, dropping the shard of the teacup and picking up the cane chair she’d been sitting in.
With a growl, her right arm swung back and she hurled it at him as hard as her small frame allowed. Except the chair went flying into the bookcase next to the fireplace because she released it too late, sending her into an out-of-control spin. A spin directly toward the protruding white stone mantel of the fireplace.
Her forehead didn’t stand a chance and her skull crunched into it.
She instantly crumpled.
Talen leapt, mercifully able to get his arms under her, breaking her fall at the last instant.
Stretched out across the wooden planks, his arms under her, he froze for a long moment, waiting for her to wake up, to move. When she didn’t, he set her long onto the floor and frantically moved next to her. His hand went onto her chest, his fingertips pressing down into the flesh just above her left breast.
A heartbeat. Lungs expanding.
Relief surged through his veins. She’d merely knocked herself into blackness. And she was going to have a walnut-sized lump on her head.
Exhaling his held breath, he stretched out along his side on the floor next to her. With his head propped on his left bicep, his right hand didn’t move from her chest where he measured her heartbeat, her breaths.
He stared at her face, taking stock of the bruises quickly fading, only yellowish streaks left under the skin. The cuts about her lips had faded to faint pink streaks. Her left eye no longer swollen.
A sigh overtook him. “From a cocoon of bruises and pain, you emerge. What am I going to do with you?”
Tufts of feathers that had been kicked up still drifted in the air. Landing on her forehead, on her hair. He blew a puff of breath sideways to dislodge a feather that landed on his cheek.
A knock and the door to his office cracked open behind him. Was there no blasted privacy in this place?
“Ye well, boss? All the noise stopped. Ye said not to bother ye no matter the noise. But now there’s none.”
He didn’t bother to flip his head around to glance back at his man, Simon. “Aye. I’m well.”
“The lady well?”
“Aye. She will be.”
His fingers on her chest curled slightly.
She would be.
He would see to it.