Indigo Sky (8 page)

“Of course it would, but please stop taunting me, Mr. Millburn.” She stared at the floor.

“I’m not taunting you. I just want to know how you really feel. It must be difficult to endure your husband’s rudeness and his mistress’ mockery.”

Her eyes flew up, and she stared at him, her mouth trembling. “M-mistress?”

Rork bit the inside of his cheek.
Damn, have I gone too far
? But he wasn’t going to back down.
She deserves better than that jerk.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but surely even you can see what’s going on.” He stopped and took her shoulders. “Why, Leila? Why put up with this? Perhaps you don’t want to face reality.”

She shook her head. “No, what you say isn’t true. I went into my marriage thinking it would be forever. Was there a message from Hank?”

“No. You just looked like you were in distress and needed help.”

Leila fiddled with the pearls around her neck. “Was my discomfort that obvious?”

“Perhaps only to me. I can’t blame you. I’d be uncomfortable if I had to listen to Sissy’s spiteful comments.”

“Well, thank you.” Leila giggled. “I hate to admit it, but I was in the cusp of losing my temper, which is the worst thing that could happen where Sissy is concerned. She’s like a wild animal when she smells weakness.” Leila smiled. “So, why do you dislike Sissy?”

Rork shrugged. “She reminds me of a vulture, and I abhor flirts.”

Laughter bubbled from Leila’s lips. “‘Vulture’ describes her exactly.”

He grinned and touched her cheek. “At least I made you smile.” His heart tripped as she swayed toward him.

“Yes, you did,” she whispered, as their eyes locked.

Chapter 12

Alcohol and fatigue were a poor combination. Rork’s head reeled as he made his way through the deserted dining room. Sleep. He needed sleep. Hank had spent most of the night droning on about their trip west. Rork could have left earlier, but Sissy clung to Hank like a limpet. The woman had the same constitution as Hank. Anger rose from deep inside him.
Did I really think I could stop Hank from cheating on Leila? All I really want to do is protect her. Why the hell am I stopping him?
I should be encouraging him
.

Rork staggered against a wall. He needed time to think. The quiet was booming in his ears. He punched the wall hard enough to make his knuckles bleed.

Sissy is a real piece of work. She made it quite clear that I only had to sniff in her direction and she’d open her legs for me, too. Damn, those two are poor excuses for human beings.

A door creaked. He squinted in the dim light afforded by lanterns on the passage wall. The silhouette of a woman appeared. A fragrant waft of lavender and vanilla swirled into his senses. The aroma filled every crevice of his being. Rork didn’t need more light. He’d recognize Leila’s scent anywhere. Stopping, he waited for her approach.
Why is she out and about? No doubt searching for her carousing husband.
He couldn’t let her find Hank with Sissy. Rork reasoned it was one thing knowing your spouse was unfaithful but quite a different matter catching him with his pants down. He had to stop her.

“Leila.”

She drew a sharp breath. “Good heavens, Mr. Millburn, you startled me.” She sidestepped him.

Rork moved in front of her. “What are you doing here? You really shouldn’t be wandering about at this time of night.”

Leila took another step sideways, and again Rork blocked her. “Really, Mr. Millburn, I don’t know what your problem is,” she said, her temper surfacing. “But since you’re here, have you seen my husband?”

“Perhaps you should go back to your suite and wait for him. Let me accompany you. A lady shouldn’t be by herself this time of night.”

“I want to find Hank.” Leila tried to squeeze past him.

“I insist, Leila. It would not be very gentlemanly of me to allow you to roam about by yourself.”

“
Allow
me?” Leila’s voice raised an octave. “Thank you for your concern, but it isn’t necessary. I’m sure the hotel is quite secure.”

“People will talk if they see you.”

“What others say about me is irrelevant.” A smile tweaked her full lips. “Besides, wouldn’t that raise questions as to why
we
were out and about?”

He gripped her elbow as she tried again to pass him. He groaned inwardly as desire burgeoned.

Leila’s eyes flared with passion. For an instant, she leaned into him, her body making solid contact.

Her scent consumed him. He bent until her face was inches from his.
What would she taste like?
The question flooded his mind for the thousandth time since he’d met her.

Leila took a step back and stared at him for several moments as if weighing her options. “Fine, if you insist, escort me back to my suite.”

Taking her elbow, he guided her back to her door. He opened it, and Leila gave a brief nod, stepping inside. The door closed with a rebellious click. Rork smiled and leaned against the opposite wall. She’d given up too readily. Within moments, the door opened again.

“Why are you still here?” Leila planted her hands on her hips. A flush crept up her slender throat, turning her skin the color of a sunset before a storm.

“Making sure you don’t wander about alone again.” He didn’t bother to suppress a grin.

“Are you my guardian now?” Her voice rose. “You have no right to order me about. If I want to be out at this time of night, it’s none of your business.”

“Hush.” Rork slid his hands around her waist and pulled her body against his. He dipped his head and took her mouth hungrily. Her body went rigid, and her lips sealed shut. He gently ran his tongue over her lips. They parted, letting him in. Her body sank into his. A groan resonated in Rork’s throat. Leila’s hands crept up, flattening against his chest. His hands fisted in her loose hair, gently pulling her head back, giving him greater access.

Abruptly, she pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

“This is what we both want, Leila,” Rork whispered in a hoarse voice as he pulled her back.

“No, Rork. We can’t do this.”

Rork
. She called him by his first name. It sounded so sweet. He longed to hear her say it again. “You cannot deny what’s between us. It’s been there since I rescued you from that brook.”

“Oh, Rork.” The words purred from her lips.

His heart swelled, and his breath caught in his throat. He pushed her back into her suite, not caring about anything except the woman in his arms. Kicking the door shut, he turned, pressing her against it. “God, I want you so.” He crushed her to him and sought her lips again.

Leila jerked her head aside and delivered a stinging slap to his cheek. “I’m married, Mr. Millburn. Take your hands off me.”

“Leila, please.”

“Go.”

His elation vanished. “If this is what you want Leila . . .” He released her.

She backed away until a chaise longue stopped her. She scooted around it, creating a shield between them. “Leave now, Mr. Millburn.”

Rork studied her. Those lips, still swollen from his kiss, and chest, heaving with agitation, stirred something new in his heart. Disappointment curdled in the pit of his stomach, crawling upward through his body.
How could I have been so stupid to think she would want me?

Turning on his heel, he headed for the door. If she wanted him to leave, he’d leave.
Don’t go—don’t leave her!
an inner voice screamed. He stopped, arms slack at his side. “Don’t deny yourself, Leila. He isn’t worth it. And he doesn’t deny himself. He indulges in every licentious whim.”

She drew a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

Rork didn’t want to face her, run the risk of seeing her tears. But he did. Their eyes connected. “I’m talking about Hank.”

“I know you are, but what are you accusing him of?” Her voice shook.

“He doesn’t honor your marriage vows. So why should you?”

“Hank might not, but I do. He may not deserve my loyalty, but I pledged it to him. I will not break that vow.” Her words rang with conviction.

Rork’s shoulders sagged. He wanted to convince her he was more worthy. Instead, he took a deep breath. “It won’t happen again.” He opened the door and stepped into the dark hall.
If she wants to find Hank with Sissy, so be it
. He strode away.

Hank stared at Sissy through a hasheesh and alcohol-induced haze. He blinked rapidly to clear the vision of red hair and redder lips that seemed magnified.

Her hand came up to stroke his face.

He squeaked and stumbled back onto a barstool, hands up to ward off the threat. “What’re you doing, woman?” Panic gripped him. The walls closed in, the roof came down like an iron claw, and lamps flickered with satanic tongues. “I have to get out.”

“God, Hank, what’s the matter with you?” She tossed her hair and pouted. “Too much of your so-called substance?”

“Don’t you start on me,” he growled. “I need to write—got an idea.” He staggered from the bar.

Sissy hurried after him and grabbed his arm. “Better come to my suite, Hank. That prissy wife of yours is sure to throw a tantrum.”

Nodding, he allowed her to lead him to her suite. He wove his way unsteadily into the sitting room and flopped onto a chaise longue, holding his head. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and tipped a few grains into his palm and threw them on his tongue. “Whiskey—I need a drink,” he mumbled.

Sissy filled a tumbler with a generous jigger of whiskey and handed it to him. Giggling, she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I feel neglected. You haven’t made love to me for days.” She turned and straddled his lap. Her mouth tensed at his lack of response. “What’s wrong with you? I’ll arouse you.” She slipped off his lap and knelt, fumbling with his fly.

“Stop!” He thrust her away and sent her tumbling onto her back. Jerking to his feet, he threw the glass across the room. “What is it with you damn women? You bitch, keep your miserly mouth off me.” He ranged the room, plucking at his disheveled hair, eyes darting about. The curtains moved, and he screamed. “What the hell was that?”

Sissy ran to him and threw her arms around him. “Lordy, must you take that remedy? It gives you daytime nightmares. The window is open, that’s all.”

“Get away from me!” His arms flailed, and he struck her temple. His signet ring glanced off, leaving a bloody streak.

She cried out, fell to the ground, and scrambled away from him. “Hank, stop!”

Sweat beaded his face, and he trembled uncontrollably as he staggered to a writing desk and ripped open a drawer. “Paper, I need paper—need to write.” He clutched his chest to still his racing heart. Shaking uncontrollably, he poured another whiskey and took a vial from his pocket. He tipped a few grains into the amber liquid, swallowed it in one gulp, and sagged to a chair. He dropped his head onto the writing desk. Slowly, calm washed through him. He breathed a sigh of relief and drew a pen from his pocket. He ran one finger reverently over the carved bone handle and touched the metal nib.

Sissy stood slowly. “Are you feeling better now?”

He nodded and dipped his pen into a bottle of ink. Pressing his palm to the paper, he sighed again. The paper was warm, comforting beneath his hand. He wrote rapidly, the brilliant hallucinations of his mind flowing from the tip in a flowery script.

Sissy stood behind him, pressing her pelvis against him and massaging his shoulders.

Oblivious to her overtures, Hank pulled out a second sheet and wrote with frenetic haste. Sissy’s exotic perfume invaded his heightened sense. He stopped, pen poised. A drop of ink fell and spread on the paper. Other urges needed gratification. Slamming the pen down and spattering ink across the paper, he jumped up and pulled Sissy roughly into his arms. “Now—I need you now!”

She giggled as he dragged her to the chaise longue, tearing at her dress to gain access to her voluptuous curves.

As quickly as his lust ignited, it disappeared, and his fury erupted. With a growl, he struck Sissy across the face.

With a yelp, she brought a hand up to her reddened cheek.

“You bitch, you’re responsible for my lack. This-this failure to-to perform.” A cry from across the room brought his head around. He tried to focus through a veil of anger and substance. “Leila?”

Sissy giggled and pulled his head back to face her. “Let the prissy bitch watch. Maybe she’ll learn something.”

Uncontrolled rage erupted. He jumped up and thrust Sissy aside roughly.

She squealed, landing on the floor in a flurry of crimson silk and lace.

Hank fumbled with his fly. The buttons finally united, he turned to reprimand Leila, but he stopped, trapped in the innocence of her wide eyes.

Leila pressed a fist to her middle. Her other hand fluttered to her chest, and her mouth opened and shut. “I came to find out if Sissy knew where you were. I-I went to the bar and couldn’t find you. I was worried that you might have gone out for a walk and been set upon by rioters or-or something.” Her stricken eyes went to Sissy then back to him. “How could you, Hank? How could you betray me? How could you defile our marriage?” A sob caught in her throat.

Sissy scrambled to her feet and burst into peals of laughter. “You stupid bitch, what makes you think Hank would want an ineffectual milksop like you?”

The veins in his head fit to burst. He brought his arm up, slamming the back of his hand across her cheek. Her head snapped to one side. He shoved at her chest and sent her plummeting to the floor again. “Shut up. Shut the hell up, Sissy!”

With a sob, Leila spun in a flurry of Chantilly lace, the peignoir swirling around her legs as she sought escape.

“Leila, wait. I can explain!” He stumbled after her, stomach cramping and heart pounding. His world spun, and his legs refused to move cohesively. He reached their suite and tore the door open.

Leila stood with her back to him, head bowed and shoulders jerking as she sobbed.

He approached slowly, shaking his head to clear the buzzing in his ears. “I’m sorry, but I can explain.”

“How could you, Hank?”

Again, fury invaded his brain. “What do you expect? You’re bloody frigid to the extreme. You aren’t even a damn wife!”

She turned, and the truth in her eyes mocked him.

Somewhere in his soul, a glimmer of humanity and reason remained. The fault lay with him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Mr. Millburn was right. Sissy is your mistress. I won’t tolerate that.”

A chill of betrayal settled on him. “Millburn said that?”

“I refused to believe him, but now I realize it’s the truth. I’ve been a naïve fool.”

“That sneaky son of a bitch!” Hank slammed his fist on the table, shattering the legs with the force. Hands clenched, he advanced on her, emotion clogging his throat and pain shooting through his temples. “So, has he had the pleasure of taking your precious maidenhead?”

“How dare you!” Her hand shot up, and her palm connected with his cheek.

He lifted his lip in a sneer. “Hit a nerve, have I? Traitorous bitch.” He lifted his arm. “I’ll kill you.” A large hand clamped around his wrist, holding it in a vise grip. Just then, Rork’s deep voice burned into his brain, fanning the flames of his wrath.

“Enough, Hank!”

He turned, still in the iron grip. “You bastard, you violated my wife!”

Rork’s eyes glittered. “I’ve done nothing of the sort. You need to calm down and go to bed.”

Cramps beset Hank’s gut, and he wanted to vomit. “You betrayed me!”