Tristan's Loins (2 page)

Selene could find no unusual wires or cords
and frowned as she sat once more in front of the computer. The man
looked annoyed, his handsome face flushed. It was obvious he was
not going anywhere anytime soon.

"Ok, I'll play." She glared at the
screensaver. "Your name is Tristan de Montfort, right? How much are
they paying you? This is unreal."

Tristan glared up at the voice. "I’m
Lord
de Montfort, you impertinent wench! No one has paid me
a farthing! I can assure you this is all very real. I woke to your
voice just now and can still hear you, if not see you!"

"This is a joke!" Selene protested her eyes
uneasy. How could Darcy and Maggie know her character's name? She
had not allowed anyone to read her work outside of her critique
group since she started this.

"Do you see humor here, Only Selene?" he
asked irately. "You keep me from my sleep and my uncle is fast upon
my heels! I must rise at dawn if I hope to reach Raven's Keep
before his vassals overtake me."

Selene opened her mouth, but no sound came
out. She quickly referred to her notes from the night before in her
outline. She scanned the page to where she left off. Tristan was
indeed staying in the castle of one of his father's allies. His
uncle, the cruel and calculating Stephen de Montfort was giving
chase. He was determined to steal Rhiannon away from his nephew
before he succeeded in marrying the wealthy heiress.

They were to be married promptly when he
arrived at Raven's Keep. Marrying Rhiannon and securing her dowry
would allow Tristan to gain the funds to make war on his powerful
uncle, the man who murdered his parents to steal his
birthright.

"This can't be real." She shook her head.

Tristan laughed at that. "Yes, Only Selene,
this is very real."

"Oh my God!"

"You will not pray again, Only Selene,"
Tristan ordered. "You will come out at once and be done with this
nonsense."

Selene dazedly got up and went to the phone,
never taking her eyes off the handsome blond man on the computer
screen. The automated switchboard at the school answered and she
spoke into the phone, calling in sick for the first time in eight
years. She taught fourth grade English. Her students could deal
with a substitute today. She was in no condition to go to work.
Obviously she was losing her mind. The phone dropped from her hand
to the floor.

"Only Selene, where are you?" Tristan called
out, sounding disgusted. "Come out!"

Selene approached the desk and sat down. Eyes
widened as she looked at the character of her book, really looked
at him now. The same details she included in her book made her
cringe, seeing the handsome, all too-perfect features, marred only
by the scar on his forehead.

Even his tunic was the same as she described;
pale blue wool that offset his eyes. Her anguished eyes widened to
see the large de Montfort ruby ring on his left forefinger as he
leaned upon his hands. The ring had been his father's, stolen by
his uncle, Stephen.

Gideon raised Tristan until he reached
adulthood. The man found him in infancy after his parent's murders.
Stephen de Montfort thought Tristan dead, and the earldom his.
Gideon raised him to be a warrior and regain his birthright.

King John had been very sympathetic to the
young lord's plight, but stayed out of the matter. The king said if
Tristan wanted his title and lands back, he must fight for them.
Tristan had begun to spy upon his uncle and discovered he had a
very young and beautiful mistress, named Cristobel.

Tristan wormed his way into Cristobel's bed
to learn all he needed to know about his uncle. Stephen was very
possessive of his young, desirable mistress. One night after
Tristan left her house, his uncle's men accosted him and dragged
him before the nobleman, bound and beaten.

Stephen de Montfort had not known he was
looking at his assumed-dead nephew, or Tristan would not have
survived that night. His uncle was satisfied with having him beaten
for trespassing upon his territory. He removed his knife to carve
an S into his forehead.

Tristan had succeeded at working his bonds.
He freed himself and lunged for the knife. He came out the victor
in the tussle, and used the knife to cut off Stephen de Montfort's
finger, stealing back his father's ring.

He made sure his uncle knew who he was before
he left his estate. He stopped to kidnap the heiress along the way
to Raven's Keep. Stephen was amassing an army now to fight his
nephew, determined not to lose his power.

"If you’re really Tristan de Montfort, what
is your mother's name?"

"Isabelle," he said softly and looked upward.
"That was her name. Now will you come out?"

Selene sat back in her chair, stunned. "No
one could have known that name. I haven't written it yet."

Tristan appeared satisfied the matter of his
identity was realized. He gazed at the nothingness beyond him, eyes
narrowed. "Now, Only Selene, you will kindly come out and explain
how you have entered my room. Lord deVigny assured me I had safe
asylum here this night! Is this some trickery on his part?"

"No, Lord deVigny is your staunchest
supporter, "Selene argued, "he is an old and trusted friend to your
father. He would never betray you, even if he doesn't have the
fortune to help you reclaim your birthright."

Tristan scowled at her words. "How is it you
know so much about my business, wench?"

"Easy on the 'wench' thing, pal!" Selene
fumed at his blatant disrespect. "I told you my name. Just let me
think! This can't be real, but I'm talking to you. I have to assume
I'm losing my mind, if that is the case."

"This is all very real, Only Selene," Tristan
concluded sharply. "I’m up listening to you skulk about my room
when I should be abed resting up for tomorrow."

"Oh will you just zip it already?" Selene
asked. "Just to ease your mind, you make it back to Raven's Keep
without a hitch. Your uncle does not catch up to you."

"And how do you know this, Only Selene?"
Tristan demanded, looking outraged.

"Because I’m writing it that way!"

"Now you do sound insane, Only Selene,"
Tristan mused and smiled tightly. "It is not possible for you to
know what I’ll do before I do it."

"Actually, you’re not even real, but a
character in my book. I can do whatever I want. Be lucky I don't
allow him to catch you. He's awfully mad you cut off his
finger."

Tristan froze suddenly, eyes filled with
suspicion. "How did you know of that? I have told no one of my
altercation with my uncle, not even Gideon. What enchantment is
this?"

Selene smiled tightly. "Because I wrote it,
that's why. I'm a writer, well, I'm trying to be. This is my first
book. You’re a character in it. None of this is real at all."

"You lie, wench!" Tristan scowled as he sat
back in the chair. "That is not possible."

"It is true!" Selene pulled out her
notebook." I’ll prove it to you."

"How can you offer such proof?" he
scoffed.

"I know of your deepest secrets," Selene
looked smug as she saw his doubt. "I know everything about
you."

"Such as?"

"I know you pray each night before bed to
honor your father's memory."

Tristan looked ill at her words, and seemed
to pale. "What treachery is this? You lie! My prayers are my
own!"

"No, I wrote them. You do it every night,
swearing to avenge him and your mother."

"This is an outrage!" Tristan railed and
looked positively livid.

"I’m afraid it's true. You’re a character in
my book, and all of this is not real." Selene went on to explain
the whole plot of her book to him, seeing his furious expression
when she was done.

Tristan mulled over her words, looking quite
perturbed. "You say you wrote this? What do you mean? Letters and
such? Explain yourself, Only Selene."

"I’m a writer," Selene explained once more.
"I created all of this, your struggle to regain your birthright.
Your meeting Rhiannon, everything. It's a romance novel."

"Romance?" He chuckled outright at that. "You
have failed there, Only Selene. There is little romance between
Rhiannon and me. The girl loathes me. Do I have you to thank for
that too?"

"Now wait a minute!"

"No, you wait," he said harshly as he rose.
"You’re privy to matters no one can know of, even God! You tell me
my whole life is made up by you, and the woman I'm to marry
despises me with every breath she takes. How do you plan to change
that, Only Selene? You have mucked up my life enough with your
meddling!"

"Hey, that's not fair!" Selene grumbled with
a sour look. "This is just a book! It is for entertainment
purposes. You’re taking this all too personally. If it's any
consolation, you both live happily ever after, I swear it."

Tristan did not look pleased. He looked sad.
"You tell me everything I’m is not even real. Why is it I feel it
all then?"

Selene had no explanation for why Tristan was
even talking to her now. She was having a nervous breakdown maybe?
She could see he was taking it very hard to know he was not real.
Everything in his life was made-up. She felt for him. She had given
him some lousy hang-ups.

"It gets better, I swear," Selene promised,
seeing the torment in his face.

"This is entertainment for you, Only Selene?"
Tristan's handsome lips twisted into a bitter smile. "You’re a
cruel wench to mock my feelings. It is all very real to me. I’m
living it, while you only make it up!"

Selene did not know what to say to make him
feel better. She knew she had bungled it, making him quite so
tortured. He had some baggage that was for sure. Now she could see
by his brooding expression, he took it very much to heart.

"I have only gotten to chapter eight so far."
Selene told him, "There is much left to happen. You will be happy,
I promise you that."

"You have insured I can never be happy!"

"What do you mean?" Selene looked
confused.

"What I have done to her; she will never
forgive it," Tristan glared upward. "I have killed her father,
thanks to you! Let us not forget the night I took her from his
fortress. Have you forgotten my treatment of her? She has not, I
assure you! You have only made her cringe at the sight of me!"

Selene paused, seeing the truth of his words.
How could Rhiannon ever get past that? What woman could ever learn
to love a man that killed her father or raped them? Oh Damn, she
really bungled it this time. The reality of it hit her, smack in
the face.

"I can go back and rewrite it," Selene saw
him pause in his angry pacing.

"You can rewrite this?" Tristan looked
hopeful. "It will be as if it never happened?"

"Yes, I can just go back and delete that
whole scene," Selene concluded. "I’ll have to figure out how you
come to steal her from her father's fortress first."

Tristan relaxed visibly. "Then all is not
lost. She fears me, Only Selene. To see her flinch away from me
whenever I come near her haunts me. What did you mean by making me
force myself on the girl? I have never had to force a woman in my
life!"

Selene shrugged. "I was not thinking at all.
I knew you were desperate to marry a rich heiress. I just tossed
that in because I was in a bad mood, sorry. I’ll have it so you
kidnap her and get away from her father's fortress undetected."

"You have the power to do this?" He seemed to
disbelieve her.

"I have all the power," Selene retorted
smugly. "I'm the writer."

"If what you say is true, I want proof of
what you say," Tristan demanded. "I have been trapped in this room
for many days. I want food, and lots of it. I want wine, a bath,
and a woman to warm my bed, who is not that she-cat I'm going to be
married to."

Selene glared at him. "That is not in the
book, Tristan."

"Write it in then, Only Selene," he fumed
back at her in obvious challenge. "We will see if what you tell me
is the truth. I would see this power of yours firsthand."

"Fine." Selene pulled up her word processing
program. She opened her chapter where she left off earlier and
typed for many minutes, saving the document and sat back pleased to
see Tristan got his wish. The table was laden with food and drink.
A pretty, dark-haired maid reclined in his bed. A wooden tub sat
nearby, steam rising from it.

Tristan looked stunned. "How? How is this
possible?"

"Did you say something, my lord?" the girl in
his bed asked, her eyes filled with smoky invitation.

Tristan turned and grinned at his sultry
companion. "I way saying I wondered if you wished to join me in my
bath, girl."

"I did not write that, Tristan," Selene
protested, seeing his lustful regard for the serving girl.

Tristan smiled as he crooked a finger at the
girl. "No, but I approve of this heartily, Only Selene. Are you
going to watch us too? We will talk much later, when I’m
sated."

Selene glared at the screen and at his smug
countenance, tempted to delete the pretty maid out of the scene,
but she felt like she owed it to Tristan for screwing up his
life.

"Oh, whatever, go get your groove on then,"
Selene muttered as she turned down the sunshine on the screen. She
certainly had no intentions of watching and cringed to hear his low
seductive laughter and the girls giggling.

Selene went to her bathroom, opening up the
medicine cabinet. She grabbed a bottle of Xanax. She popped two of
them. The delusions were there because of stress.

Selene decided to lie down. It was only seven
thirty in the morning. She was certain when she got up all of this
would be just a mind trick. Sleep came upon her quickly.

Selene woke up to the phone. She glanced at
her bedside clock. Her eyes flew wide. It was nearly noon. She
jumped up with an exclamation on her lips. She had to get up and
get ready for the meeting. The Xanax made her feel sluggish as she
pulled herself up and slipped out of the bed.