Lancelot's Lady (10 page)

She glared up at Jonathan. The corners of his mouth jerked in small spasms. The bastard was laughing at her.

"
Don
'
t even think about it,
"
she warned.
"
It
'
s not funny!
"

A grin spread across his face.
"
Actually, it kinda is.
"

"
You bastard.
"

"
Possibly.
"
He shrugged.
"
I
'
m sorry.
"

"
Yeah, right. Sure you are.
"

Rhianna couldn
'
t take her eyes off him. Moonlight filtered through the trees, emphasizing the hardness of his body and the tension in his face. As his eyes drifted from hers down to the mud smeared on her thighs, an unfamiliar ache snaked through her body, weaving its way downward. It was as if he
'
d stripped away her last remnants of clothing with his thoughts, leaving her naked and trembling.

She shivered.

"
Come on, city girl,
"
he muttered, breaking the spell.
"
Only animals roll around in the mud. You look
―well, how can I put it politely? You look like hell. And you need a bath.
"

She couldn
'
t believe his audacity.

A wicked idea formed in her mind.

"
You
'
re right,
"
she said, holding out her hand.

Jonathan leaned down, and before he could guess what she had in
mind, Rhianna clasped his hand and gave it a quick, hard tug. He landed on his stomach, sliding past her in the mud.

Rhianna snorted.
"
Didn
'
t you say that only animals roll in the mud? Who needs a bath now?
"

Jonathan raised his head slowly and she saw the warning in his narrowed eyes. It told her she was down to one choice.

Run!

With a startled yelp, she leapt to her feet and took off into the dense brush. Branches caught at her already-ruined dress, ripping a long tear in the shoulder. Behind her, she heard Jonathan crashing through the bushes.

"
For Christ
'
s sake, stop running!
"
he bellowed.

There was no way in hell she was going to do that.

As she raced toward the faint golden light that she prayed was the house, two thoughts occupied Rhianna
'
s jumbled mind. Was Jonathan as angry as he looked?

And what will he do when he catches me?

Chapter 10

Rhianna tried to use the moon as a guide, but eventually she had to admit she was lost. The path didn
'
t lead back to the house as she had expected. Instead, it led to the small cottage she
'
d seen from her bedroom window. As she approached, she took in the well tended vegetable garden and pruned bushes. Candlelight flickered through a window. Soft music flowed from inside, an unspoken invitation.

Mrs. Atkinson
'
s home,
she realized.

Rhianna raised a hand to knock, but the door opened.

A startled Mrs. Atkinson gasped in shock.
"
Ms. McLeod! You gave me quite a start. I thought my husband was imagining things when he said someone was outside.
"
She smiled.
"
Come inside, dear.
"

Rhianna hesitated on the porch. That
'
s when Mrs. Atkinson noticed the torn, mud-splattered dress.

"
What happened to you, dear? Are you hurt?
"

"
I
'
m fine, Mrs. Atkinson. I went for a walk and lost my balance at the falls.
"

"
And I tried to rescue her,
"
a familiar voice growled behind her.

"
Is that what you call it?
"
Rhianna muttered, refusing to turn around.

Mrs. Atkinson gaped at Jonathan.
"
You
'
re covered in mud too, Mr. Tyler. What happened to the two of…?
"
Her voice faded as a glimmer crossed her eyes.
"
Ah…
"

"
It
'
s not what you
'
re thinking,
"
Rhianna said quickly.

"
Of course not, dear.
"

Rhianna whipped around.
"
Tell her.
"

Jonathan
'
s eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to one side.
"
Tell her what?
"

"
That we didn
'
t―that we weren
'
t―you know.
"

"
Do I?
"

Rhiann
a let out an aggravated sigh.
"
Nothing happened, Mrs. Atkinson. I slipped in some mud and when Jonathan tried to help me up, he slipped. End of story.
"

Mrs. Atkinson shook her head slowly and made
'
tsk-ing
'
sounds with her tongue.
"
Jonathan Tyler, take your guest on home. She needs a warm bath. And you could use one yourself.
"
She herded them off the porch.
"
Run along now. It would be a shame if either of you caught a chill.
"

"
Yeah,
"
Jonathan mumbled.
"
A damned shame.
"

Rhianna clenched her jaw.

~ * ~

Jonathan stomped off in the direction of the house, while Rhianna tripped and cursed behind him. There was no way he was slowing down for her. His stranded houseguest was turning out to be a real pain in the ass. Already, she
'
d made him look like a fool in front of his housekeeper.

Whose side is Mrs. Atkinson on, anyway?

Last thing he needed was a troublemaking
guest
.

A vision of Rhianna
'
s smooth skin to mind. He recalled gently rounded breasts encased in a wet bra, the droplet of water that had trickled down her
throat and disappeared between her breasts, and long, limber legs made for wrapping around―

You don
'
t want her!

But he knew that was a lie.

~ * ~

Rhianna trailed after Jonathan, although he wasn
'
t making it easy. It was more like a marathon than a moonlit
stroll. Was he taking a longer route just to pay her back for dragging him into the mud? It sure felt that way.

She cursed the day she
'
d set foot on Angelina
'
s Isle. Higginson and JT would have a lot of explaining to do when she got back home.

Home.
It seemed so far away.

She thought of Mrs. Atkinson
'
s last remark.
'
I
'
m not blind.
'
What exactly was she seeing that no one else could? Or could it be that the housekeeper was simply being protective, motherly?

He doesn
'
t know how lucky he is,
Rhianna thought.

She would have given anything for a strong motherly role model in her life. But that wasn
'
t what fate had in store for her.

A few yards ahead, Jonathan whirled around, his open shirt flapping in the breeze.
"
Let
'
s not be out here all night.
"

"
I
'
m walking as fast as I can.
"

Looking away, she noticed a small, barn-like shed situated within a copse of trees.
"
What
'
s that?
"

"
That,
"
Jonathan stated,
"
is off limits to you.
"

"
Why? What is it?
"

When he didn
'
t answer, Rhianna couldn
'
t resist having a little fun. At Jonathan
'
s expense.

"
I bet it
'
s a secret still. You
'
re brewing moonshine back there.
"
She let out a false gasp.
"
Or maybe you
'
re a drug smuggler.
"

He stopped in front of her and turned slowly.

"
Maybe I
'
m storing the body of the last woman stranded on my island,
"
he said in a soft, dangerous tone.

Rhianna swallowed.
"
That
'
s not funny.
"

With a sigh, he said,
"
It
'
s none of your business what
'
s in there. And if I tell you to stay away, I expect you to listen.
"

He grabbed her arm and steered her past the shed.

"
Hey, let go!
"
she demanded.

Jonathan didn
'
t release her until the foliage parted and they stepped into the backyard. Without a word, he kicked off his muddy shoes and began to undress right in front of her. He reached down, pulling his shirt over his head, his muscles flexing with every movement. His pants dropped next, revealing black boxers.

The man exuded primal maleness and Rhianna couldn
'
t take her eyes off of him. As she removed her own shoes, she found it difficult to breathe. Her body tingled all over and her nipples hardened.

From the cool air and wet dress,
she told herself.

"
I, uh, should take a bath and go to bed,
"
she mumbled, pushing past him and opening the door.

"
Rhianna?
"
Jonathan called softly.

She turned expectantly.

"
For a spoiled city girl, you sure have a way of looking like something that
'
s been washed up on a beach.
"

His laughter followed her all the way to her bedroom.

Humiliation reddened her cheeks and Rhianna slammed the bedroom door. Jonathan Tyler was the most exasperating man she
'
d ever had the misfortune to meet.

"
Washed up on the beach,
"
she muttered.
"
I don
'
t look like…
"
The words drifted as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror over the dresser.
"
Crap.
"

Peeling off her clothes, she tossed them into the sink. A bath wouldn
'
t do. Not when she was caked in mud. She stepped into the shower and watched the dirt swirl down the drain.

She closed her eyes. As the water caressed her face, she pictured Jonathan. Lean, sculpted, handsome Jonathan. A man of mystery. A secretive man who was incredibly, irresistibly…rude.

And sexy.

She hitched in a breath at the image of flexing muscles and gleaming skin, of fine dark hair that trailed from his belly button and disappeared below the waistband of his boxers.

Oh God. Why can
'
t I have normal thoughts?

~ * ~

In the living room, Jonathan poured a second glass of brandy. He hadn
'
t really meant to goad Rhianna with that last remark, but he couldn
'
t help himself. Something about her demanded that he insult her at all cost. It was the only way to keep her at arm
'
s length, and something told him it was vital she stay there.

"
I didn
'
t mean it as an insult,
"
he grumbled.

Rhianna McLeod
did
look like something washed up on a beach. A mermaid princess. Like the one in the story his mother used to read to him when he was a child.

Putting his glass down sharply, he berated himself for juvenile fantasy. Rhianna was no mermaid. She was a stranger who had so far managed to bewitch Mrs. Atkinson, earn Misty
'
s trust and irritate the hell out of him.

He climbed the stairs, suddenly feeling he
'
d aged fifty years. At Rhianna
'
s door, he paused. No sounds came from the room. He pressed a hand against the door, yearning for something he refused to name. Then with a soft groan, he clenched his fist and turned away.

In his bedroom, Jonathan took a quick shower. Crawling between the sheets, he stared up at the ceiling. Why had this woman been dumped on his island? It didn
'
t make sense. As he closed his eyes, he made a mental note to ask her about her employer in the morning.

Before he fell into a restless sleep, he recalled Rhianna
'
s long legs sprawled in the mud, the wet dress clinging to her hips. She was beautiful. Even covered in mud.

His dream started off innocently enough. He was walking through the woods at night, alone. The pool appeared before him, the surface of the water eerie and still. He could hear the night sounds
―the frogs, crickets, night birds…tribal drumming. Then a musical laugh.

What
'
s that?

An illusive vision shimmered in the falls. Something moved behind the veil of water.

He squinted, trying to make sense of what he saw.

A woman stepped through the waterfa
ll and dove into the pool. That
'
s when he saw the iridescent tail.

A mermaid?

Drawn by an undeniable magnetic attraction, Jonathan strode into the water. He tried to catch her, but his pants weighed him down and she was too fast. Finally, he gave up and waded back to shore.

He glanced over his shoulder. And gasped.
"
Rhianna?
"

The mermaid with Rhianna
'
s face smiled and blew him a kiss. Her auburn hair streamed behind her in the water and her jade eyes sparkled with mischief. Then she dove beneath the water.

As Jonathan held his breath and waited for the mermaid
'
s return, the drumming intensified. His pulse quickened. His senses quivered. Apprehension clung to him. He couldn
'
t shake this feeling of impending doom. With every drum beat, he felt certain that something was coming. Something very dangerous.