Both men were intoxicated, displaying manners far less than formal. Their guest, this Aphrodite, was telling a story about a voyage in the Mediterranean. Stellan and Angelina stood in the doorway, staring, until all conversation stopped.
“Stellan! There you are!” The shimmering goddess put her hand on Mason’s forearm while leaning in to Mr. Ralston to whisper none too quietly, “You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for him.” The men laughed and swigged down their wine. Then she stared at Angelina, and said, “Whatever have you done to my brother?”
“Salila.” Stellan’s voice was icy.
Heat rushed to Angelina’s face. “Your brother?” Somewhere in the shock of it all she felt relief, until noticing Mason again. Mason, my fiancé. She’d had no right to entertain thoughts of Stellan, not when she was spoken for. Angelina, pull yourself together. She stepped forward. “How delightful to meet you. Miss Fletcher is it?”
Mason and Mr. Ralston got to their feet, dropping their napkins and scraping their chairs. “Allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Fisher, of late from the Mediterranean.” Her fiancé slurred his words and smiled stupidly.
“Pleased, I’m sure.” Angelina gave a very small curtsy.
Stellan mumbled something under his breath. She couldn’t catch the words. There was much fuss settling everyone back at the table, but once they were seated, the story of the voyage, to Crete, it turned out, continued. Angelina didn’t think her mother’s face could get any tighter, but Mrs. Blackwell appeared to be surrendering to the fiasco. She started guzzling down wine as fast as the servant could refill her goblet. Stellan didn’t say a word as Mrs. Fisher carried on though his jaw clenched tight, and his eyes stared daggers. Angelina would not have wanted that gaze turned her way under any circumstances. No sooner did she think this, he looked at her, but his expression had changed. Instead of frightening her, it brought a rush of heat and excitement. Angelina fanned her face and took a sip of wine.
As the food was served, the whole table became even more animated. Salila devoured an entire salmon, then downed a whole bottle of Napa Valley white herself, alternately enveloping Mason and Mr. Ralston, whispering in their ears and hanging off their broad shoulders. During one prolonged intimacy, Mrs. Ralston stood, tossed down her napkin, and said she would oversee the coffee. She turned to Mrs. Blackwell, but the woman was sound asleep in her chair. That seemed to disgust her mother even more, and she left abruptly.
STELLAN GLARED AT Salila. What in the dark tomb’s mercy are you doing here? He gripped his goblet tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
I could ask you the same thing! She wrapped herself around Mr. Ralston and whispered into his ear. The man bellowed with laughter.
“Why have you come, dear sister? What news?” Stellan spoke aloud.
“Brother! You’ll be thrilled. I’ve a message from our father!” Salila said, as the servant took her plate, with its entire fish skeleton.
“Do tell.” He tried to keep his voice even.
“He wonders when you’re coming home.”
I said I would be back in due course!
True, but nobody thought “due course” would involve sightseeing trips through the city with your little angel. You were to get in, get the information, and get back.
I’ve done my part! Studied the plans for the Golden Gate Bridge. Discussed them. . .
And?
They’re preposterous. Enormous cantilevers to counter the span. The cost of materials alone is prohibitive. More importantly, even if they could build it, such a monstrosity won’t touch us.
How can you be sure?
It’s a suspension bridge. The pilings are nowhere near our tombs. He was aware of Angelina, her face pale as she stared at him. “I’ll be home soon enough, Mrs. Fisher.”
“Really? Father will be so pleased.” Salila batted her eyelashes. “You must come back with me then.” What I mean to say, Stellan, is I’m not leaving until you do, and you know what that means. . .
You’re not to touch these people!
But my fun on the dock has already made the papers, twice. I shouldn’t risk a third.
Then go back to the sea! Angelina isn’t food, nor is her family!
Really? What keeps you in the daylight then?
His grip tightened, and the glass shattered in his hand. The contents spilled over the white tablecloth.
Angelina startled and immediately reached out to him. She blotted his hand with her napkin as servants came to clean up the mess. “Are you hurt?”
His eyes softened. “I’m sorry I alarmed you.” He lowered his voice. “I’m fine.”
Salila burst out laughing. I see. Love?
You see nothing at all!
Salila went on as if he hadn’t spoken. But your little angel is engaged. Silly human tradition. Anyway, it’s not like you could offer her your hand. Is that how they say it? “Your hand?” So quaint. She looked over at Mason. Though he’s hardly interested, is he? Not with me here anyway. How fickle. . .
“Salila, stop!” Stellan shouted aloud, bringing all eyes to him.
Mrs. Blackwell roused for a moment, snorted, then went back to sleep, her chin dropping toward her bosom.
I think you best call me Mrs. Fisher, while we’re guests, don’t you? It already appears we are overly familiar. She winked. Just as Mason leaned in to whisper something in her ear, she turned to him and planted her lips on his mouth.
I will not witness this! Angelina clenched her fists.
Angelina? Stellan pressed his temples and turned to her. Did you say that?
What are you talking about, Stellan? The girl hasn’t opened her mouth all night. Salila caught the look on his face. Unless . . . She leaned back in her chair and slowly clapped her hands. My dear Stellan, I do think you have created a blood bond. How utterly inconvenient.
Don’t be ridiculous. Blood blonds can only be formed between two Mar who are. . .
Yes, I know. Deeply in love. For an instant, Salila’s eyes softened, and she touched the hollow of her neck. Or of the same family line, she went on briskly. Unless she’s our lost sibling, or secretly Mar, I believe we have something rather unique! Salila cackled as she applauded them both. Wait until Teern hears of this! Another Mar-human coupling. It will kill him!
Another?
Never mind! This is priceless.
Mr. Fletcher? What did you say? Angelina looked at him with round eyes.
Stellan stared back, unable to respond. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke aloud. “Your neck. It’s bleeding.”
Gerald appeared in the doorway, interrupting them all. “After-dinner drinks are served in the reception room.”
“Wonderful!” Salila smiled. Shall we? No point in raising their suspicions, is there. Not if we want to stay on? Though I don’t know how you’re going to explain this all to the angel. Did you drink from the girl nonstop?
Twice! Only twice! And, you’re not staying on, Stellan said with a mental growl.
Oh but I am. They’ve offered me a room on your floor. Isn’t that sweet? Shall we visit her together tonight?
Touch her, and I will destroy you.
She laughed. I’d like to see you try.
ANGELINA PRESSED A clean cloth against her neck. The wound wasn’t healing, and the evening’s madness hadn’t helped.
“Angelina, are you alright?” Stellan rose, and they all made a move toward the reception room.
“Of course she is,” Mrs. Fisher answered. She stood tall and elegant, making Mason look like a red-faced garden gnome clinging to her side. “Fresh and . . .”
Shut up!
Angelina flinched.
“I am well, Mr. Fletcher, Mrs. Fisher, though somewhat confused.” Angelina took a moment to glare at Mason, who didn’t register her presence. “I might forgo drinks and retire . . .”
“Nonsense! We haven’t even had a chat.” Mrs. Fisher dropped Mason’s arm and offered it to Angelina. “Shall we?”
Stellan pulled his sister back. “If you don’t mind, dearest, I would like a moment with Miss Ralston.” And you keep away from her before I stake you with the first shard of wood I find!
Angelina startled. “Excuse me?”
Mrs. Fisher chuckled into her hands. “Definitely a problem, brother.”
Stellan whispered something to his sister, and the woman literally bared her teeth at him before taking Mason’s waiting arm and walking away. He turned to Angelina. “Miss Ralston, let me explain.”
Angelina composed herself. “Please do.”
They stood in the hallway and allowed the others to precede them, all but Mrs. Blackwell, who remained snoring in the dining room.
Stellan let out a long slow sigh. “I have to return.”
“To . . . ?”
“My father’s realm.”
“Realm?” she whispered. “Is he a king?”
“Not precisely, but my presence is urgently needed.”
“I see.” She waited for more, and when nothing came, her brows knit. “That’s the sum of your explanation?”
Stellan took a step closer. There is so much to tell you. “My family is . . . eccentric.”
“I see that,” she said. Her uncertainty melted as their eyes met. Stellan took her hand, and warmth washed over her like a tide. She breathed deeply. “Mr. Fletcher, will you be coming back?”
He stopped outside the reception room, and they faced each other. “It’s . . . not as simple as that, but I will, if I can.”
Her smile slowly faded. “There is much mystery about you, Mr. Fletcher. I fear . . .”
The reception-room door burst open, and Mason Blackwell, arm in arm with Mrs. Fisher, waltzed right past them.
“Where are they going?” Angelina asked
Salila!
Angelina pressed her temples. She was hearing voices in her head more and more. “Stellan? Did you just say . . .”
“I believe your fiancé is showing Mrs. Fisher to her room.”
“How considerate.” The man she was engaged to couldn’t care less about her, and the one who turned her world upside down was leaving, with no foreseeable return. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Fletcher, I really must retire.”
Before he could reply, her father threw open the reception-room door. “Mr. Fletcher, there you are! Come! I must show you those alternate designs, as promised.”
Angelina and Stellan exchanged a lingering look until she whispered good night and headed up the stairs. It was beyond her ability to resist glancing into the guest room as she passed. Mason lay facedown on the bed, apparently unconscious, boots being pulled off by his valet. She shook her head and entered the comfort of her own room. Jeanie was fluffing pillows and turning down her bed.
“Whatever was I thinking,” Angelina said, and flopped into the overstuffed chair by the window.
“About what, Miss?”
“Either of them!” But in her mind, she felt Stellan’s warm touch and caught the faint scent of the sea. As the sensations engulfed her, she let the tears fall silently down her cheeks.
Chapter Five
3:00 A.M.
Tuesday, April 17, 1906
A KNOCK ON the door jolted her awake. Before she could say a word, it creaked open, then closed with a soft snick. Angelina held her breath, feeling the presence in her room. The hairs on her arms lifted, and chills zipped down her spine. His presence engulfed her. Stellan . . . She knew it was he.
I wanted to make sure you were alright. He came to the edge of her bed and stood there, looking down at her, just as he had when she’d washed up on the beach. The window shade must have been left up because she could see him clearly. He was luminous in the moonlight, his eyes deep and penetrating.
You’re so thoughtful. Angelina sat up, letting the covers slide down. She wore a sky blue satin nightgown, one sent to her by a cousin in Paris. Her mother thought it completely improper, so Angelina wore it often.
I can think of nothing but you, Angelina. He had taken off his vest and tie, letting them fall to the floor. When she looked up again, his shirt was gone, and there in the moonlight, for a brief moment, her mind went to another vision, in which a beautiful nak*d body was leaning over her. Is this a dream?
It’s whatever you want it to be, Angelina.
The thought made her smile for the impropriety, Stellan in her bedroom in the wee hours of the night, shirtless . . . She looked again. Naked! It was both shocking and thrilling. Something nagged in the back of her mind, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was.
Angelina . . . His voice caressed her, and she shivered.
I was hoping you would come. She opened her arms, and a moment later, he was wrapped in them. The warmth of his body embraced her as heat rushed to her limbs. He pulled her into his lap and tilted her chin. Angelina’s lips parted in a smile. He smelled like a fresh sea breeze.
What is it about you that has captured me so completely? His lips closed over hers in the softest of kisses. She twined her legs around his back, wanting to get closer, wanting nothing to come between them. As the kiss deepened, she felt sweat prickle down her spine. For long moments, they shared the intimacy, barely able to stop for breath. She drank him in, astonished by her building hunger. Stellan answered her need, kissing her more fiercely. He slipped the satin straps off her shoulders, exposing her round, ample br**sts. She called out when he suckled her, one breast, then the other. Dampness spread between her legs. In that moment, the world fell away, and Angelina couldn’t imagine a place where her body ended and his began.
Stellan held her tight, lifting her up as he lay back, his head at the foot of the bed. Angelina straddled him, kissing his neck, his checks, his hard abs. He groaned as she grasped his shaft, rock hard, with skin soft as silk. Angelina . . . His voice was deep and husky.
She laughed and covered his mouth with her hand to smother the moans.
He sat up, kissing her smile. Two can play that game! Before she could answer, he flipped her onto her back, pushed her hands over her head, and, excruciatingly slowly, kissed and sucked and licked his way to her mound. When his tongue found the folds between her now-parted legs and the hot moisture there, they both cried out. She grabbed his long hair as he thrilled her, again and again.