Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (23 page)

He remained where he was, distant, as caution dictated he do in her state, and asked, “Poppy, how on earth did you hurt me?”

“I look like her.” She informed him, her voice now agonized and he finally understood. “I look like her and you miss her. I threw myself at you, and first, you’re a guy. What are you going to do? Turn down a sure thing?” She shook her head. “No. No way. But one who looks exactly like your—”

At that, he was done.

He moved to her, pulled her from her chair and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to his body. He glided a hand up her neck, her hair sliding over and he twisted his fist in it, pulling back gently even as he slid his cheek along hers so he had his lips at her ear.

“I did not make love to my wife last night, Madeleine. I made love to you,” he said there.

“Well, yes…I know. I was there, but—”

His hand tightened in her hair slightly and he lifted his head to capture her eyes.

“No buts.”

She looked deep in his eyes, hers still wet, and came to a conclusion.

The wrong one.

“You’re just being nice.”

“Mad—”

“Like you’ve been nice all along.”

“Maddie—”

“Since the beginning. Except that one time when you weren’t nice but that was understandable.”

“My dove, will you cease speaking so I can—”

“And I’ve been a bitch.”

Apollo shut his mouth.

She had to let it out?

He’d allow that.

And he knew she had to let it out because she didn’t stop.

“A silly, childish, selfish, thoughtless
bitch.
”

Apollo said nothing.

“And that’s not nice but last night was
way
not nice. It was cruel. I’m cruel!”

Her voice was rising but Apollo held his silence.

“I’m a silly, childish, selfish, thoughtless,
cruel…bitch!
”

Apollo remained silent and Madeleine fell into the same.

After some time, her eyeballs rolled this way and that. Finally, they stuck on him.

“Um…why are you holding me in your arms?” she asked hesitantly.

“Because you were weeping and saying foolish things and I wished to comfort you and assure you that you were being foolish. However, you wouldn’t be quiet and allow me to speak so I couldn’t assure you that you were being foolish so that left just my holding you in an effort to comfort you.”

She stared at him a moment before she queried, “You want to comfort me?”

He gave her a squeeze and answered, “Yes.”

“But I’m a selfish, thoughtless, cruel bitch,” she reminded him, and with effort he successfully fought back his chuckle.

After he accomplished that, he stated, “My dove, the more time I spend with you, the more I learn about you and the more I come to understand there’s much to learn. What I have learned is that you are amusing. You are spirited. You can be charming. You can also be disagreeable. You can further be vexing. You’re annoyingly very good during an argument. But that simply means you’re quick-witted, which is not a bad thing, unless one finds themselves in an argument with you.”

She blinked endearingly and he finished.

“What you are not is a selfish, thoughtless or cruel.”

She studied him closely as if his face would tell her the veracity of his words and she must have read it wrong because her eyes again clouded.

“But, Apollo,” she started softly, pain beginning to thread its way back into her voice. “I look like—”

He gave her another squeeze and dipped his face close.

His voice was threaded with steel when he declared. “Ilsa is gone, Madeleine. And you are here. You look like her, indeed. But you are
not
her.”

“But you said looking at me felt like brands searing into your eyes.”

Bloody hell, she remembered his exact words.

“And that, my dove,” he whispered, “was
me
being selfish, thoughtless and cruel. But when I spoke those words to you, I genuinely was, and you…” He shook his head. “You had drunk adela tea and were not in control of yourself. That is not selfish, thoughtless or cruel. That is simply what was.”

“Adela tea?” she inquired.

“I’ll explain later,” he said.

Her eyes suddenly narrowed and he nearly smiled.

There she was.

“Did you order it?” she asked.

“Valentine connives,” he answered and her eyes grew huge, and at that, he
did
smile.

“She was here?” she queried.

“Twice,” he affirmed.

“
Twice?
” Her voice was pitched high and he felt his smile widen.

“Twice. I’ll explain that later too.”

She held his eyes, the astonishment left hers and dark started seeping in again but through it she asked, her voice now almost timid. “So you don’t hate me?”

He gathered her closer and whispered, “No, my poppy, I don’t hate you.”

The darkness receded and her body started to calm in his hold but she wasn’t done with her interrogation.

“Your poppy?”

His hand still in her hair pulled the tail over her shoulder and up between their faces. Sliding his thumb and finger together through the soft strands until he captured one like he was searching for, he held it and looked back to her.

“The color of poppies,” he said softly and then went on to say openly. “Ilsa did not have poppies in her hair.”

The skin around her mouth grew soft and she asked, “Did she spend much time outside?”

“She was not fond of the out of doors.”

“I am,” she whispered, again it was shyly and this time he knew why.

She was sharing something of herself with him and she was concerned how he’d take her doing it.

He dropped her hair and wrapped both arms around her, again pulling her close.

“This pleases me,” he whispered back.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her little white teeth came out to worry her lip.

As elated as he was that this scene was what it was rather than what he feared it would be, with her eyes on his mouth, he knew it had to end and it had to end immediately or they would not be to their sleigh for hours.

Tonight, after they talked, they would take time getting to know each other without adela tea.

Now, unfortunately, they had to be on their way.

“We must be away, my dove,” he reminded her.

She lifted her gaze to his.

“Okeydokey.”

And at that word, Apollo knew all was well and again, he smiled.

Chapter Ten

How He Treasured It

I felt warm and cozy, except my nose, which was cold but there was something tickling it. I also felt motion all around me. Finally, the sun bright against my eyelids slid through my burgeoning consciousness and for a second, things didn’t seem right.

Then I remembered.

I was out in the cold elements of Lunwyn in a sleigh with Apollo.

More precisely, I was in Apollo’s sleigh
with
Apollo, a huge fur blanket over our laps, wrapped up tight in my cloak (the same one as yesterday; after my emotional upheavals of the morning, I didn’t have it in me to dig out one that matched my outfit better—and by the way, I had
four
). I was snuggled up to Apollo, my arm resting across his stomach, my cheek to his chest and what was tickling my nose was the fur inside
his
cloak.

Oh God.

I was snuggled up to Apollo.

Crap.

I didn’t move or open my eyes. Instead, I faked still sleeping.

I did this because I couldn’t face him, not yet. I had to get my shit together before I attempted that.

He’d been cool this morning, actually really sweet and very understanding. I’d spent the time since he left the room torturing myself about what I’d done, but the way he acted, the things he said totally made me feel better.

About that.

But this did not negate the fact that he’d been kind to me (in his way) since I’d gotten there and I’d been a bitch to him.

And it definitely did not negate the fact that last night I’d fucked his brains out, he’d fucked my brains out and this all commenced when I threw myself at him.

It was clear this all came about because I drank that tea.

But still.

It was embarrassing.

He, however, seemed not to have a problem with this. Not at all. It was almost like it didn’t happen. Then again, men could often separate life from sex. It happened, you moved on. And maybe some women could too.

But I couldn’t.

And definitely not what we did last night.

God, I burned with humiliation just thinking about it.

I’d had one lover before Pol. And then there was Pol and he was good in bed, actually great. We never had a problem with that. In fact, that was one of the reasons why, in the beginning, I held on to hope. If he could be that generous, and sometimes even sweet and tender in bed, I thought he could, and would, eventually bring that into our everyday lives.

I’d even talked to him about it. Until I did it too often, it started to annoy him, and for obvious reasons I did my best not to annoy Pol. So I quit.

But he took care of me every time, and once, the time I liked to think was when we created our daughter, he took care of me twice in one go.

That was, he took care of me until I started having to fake it because I couldn’t stand his hands on me and if he knew that,
that
would really annoy him.

However, I’d never had anything like what I had with Apollo last night. The hunger. The heat.

The freedom.

I didn’t think of anything I did. I wasn’t in my head at all. I just went for it.

Actually, the truth of it was, Apollo led it and I went along for the ride, totally about him and what he was doing to my body. No hang ups. Nothing but him and me and what I could make him feel and what he was making me feel.

I’d done things with him I’d never done with Pol, never even considered doing with
anybody
.

At the time, I didn’t care.

Now, it mortified me.

Because I barely knew him.

I didn’t know about the sexual strictures on this world but considering women still covered their ankles, I really,
really
hoped he understood all about whatever that tea was so he didn’t think I was a big floozy.

“Maddie, are you awake?”

I made a mental note that I sucked at fake sleeping and realized the heaviness around my back was his arm holding me to him when it tightened.

“Poppy, you’ve stirred. Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Come here, dove,” he muttered back and I didn’t know how much more “here” I could get but I still shifted up, tipped my head back and gave him my eyes.

He looked down at me with tenderness in his.

I’d seen that before but it had been so long, and it was so beautiful, I felt my breath leave my lungs.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

The truth of it was, I ached and I was still kind of fatigued. Fucking someone’s brains out took it out of you.

I didn’t share that.

“Fine,” I told him.

“Are you hungry?” he inquired.

I was. I didn’t have breakfast. I mean, it was served to me but I didn’t eat it.

“I could eat,” I answered.

“Good,” he murmured and looked ahead.

I did too, again realizing that his arm was around my back and it hadn’t moved. He was still holding me to him and doing it in a way that he wasn’t going to let go.

I decided this likely had to do with the fact that cuddling together was a whole lot warmer than sitting apart.

We were riding through pines that were set far apart but he steered the horses closer to one and he did this speaking.

“I’ll take care of the horses. You unpack the sandwiches, yes?”

“Okeydokey,” I mumbled and his arm gave me a squeeze and didn’t let go so I was fit more snuggly to his body.

Okay.

What?

He pulled back on the reins and the horses stopped. Taking me with him, he leaned forward and draped them on a hook in front of us then turned to me, still holding me close.