Believe (4 page)

“To find the Grail he needs what only you can provide.” Merlin’s voice was mild but his eyes smoldered with a strength of purpose that told her in no uncertain terms she had no choice.

“What’s that?” Caution edged her words.

“You must determine it for yourself.”

“A riddle?” She groaned. “You’re starting this with a riddle? I hate riddles.”

“Learn to like them.” He smiled wickedly. “I suspect you shall face quite a few during this quest.”

“What do you mean, ‘you suspect’?” Distrust narrowed her eyes.

“Time, just like life, is not an absolute.” He shrugged. “With every spin of the wheel, the outcome may well
change. I cannot say with certainty that all will end as it has before. As you, and I, expect.”

“What can I expect?” she said slowly. “I mean, if I do this, help this guy, what happens then? Will you send me home?”

Merlin nodded. “That was my original plan.”

Tessa eyed the frozen figure. If all of this wasn’t real, and she still stubbornly clung to the fast-fading hope that it was simply a creation of an overactive imagination trapped in a comatose mind, then she had nothing to lose by joining Galahad. If it was real, joining in Sir Hunk’s quest was apparently the only way to get Fred Astaire a.k.a. Mr. Wizard a.k.a. Merlin to send her back where she belonged. “It looks like I don’t have a hell of a lot of options, do I?”

Merlin cast her a disapproving frown. “I would not have phrased it in quite that manner. The chapel, remember? However, your assessment of the situation is accurate.”

“Swell.” She heaved a sigh of surrender, turned her back on Galahad to face Merlin head-on. “I’ll do it but only on the condition that you promise to put me back exactly where you found me when this silly quest is over.”

“I promise.” He traced an
X
on his chest with his index finger. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“That’s cute.” Tessa snorted in disdain. “I had the distinct impression you live pretty much forever.”

“I do.”

She raised a brow. “Then that oath you just took is relatively worthless.”

“Relatively.” He grinned and his dark eyes twinkled. “Everything is relative, my dear.”

“You really don’t play fair, you know. You hold all the—hey!” Merlin’s eyes were still plain to see but the rest of him appeared to be fading. She could see the wall of the chapel right through him. Although she did seem to be getting used to the unexpected. The panic she’d known earlier was now nothing more than a queasy unease at talking to an all but invisible magician. “This is really annoying. What are you doing now?”

“I have a few odds and ends to see to.” There was scarcely anything left but the amused tone and the gleam in his eye.

“Hey, don’t leave me!” She practically screamed the question as if invisible was synonymous with deaf. “What do I do about him?” Tessa flung her hand at the figure behind her in a gesture of impatience.

“I’m certain you two shall hit it off with no problem.”

“No problem?” She yelled but it was too late. She was in a chapel in an age she didn’t like, stuck in a legend she didn’t believe in, by a wizard who didn’t exist. Alone. Could life get any more perfect?

“God’s blood! What manner of demon is this!”

She winced at the sound of the strong, commanding voice and knew, without turning to face him, just whose voice it was.

Damn, she hated the Middle Ages.

T
essa swiveled slowly and swallowed hard.

If she thought Galahad filled the room kneeling it was nothing compared to his awesome presence upright and prepared for battle, his sword drawn, his eyes flashing. He was absolutely magnificent. And more than a little scary.

“Whoa. Hold it right there, Big Guy.” Tessa thrust her hands out as if to ward off the knight towering over her, taut with power.

The tension eased out of him. He lowered his sword and laughed. “Hah. ’Tis but a lad. Take care in the future, boy, not to catch a warrior unawares while he thinks he is in the presence of God and none other.” A wide grin stretched across his face. “You are lucky this day. A lesser man than myself would have separated your head from your body first, and only then questioned the wisdom of the act.”

“I guess I should be grateful.” Tessa glared up at him. “Not that I did anything that would warrant getting my head chopped off, mind you, but I suppose if those are the house rules I’ll have to play by them. Talk about arrogant.”

Galahad’s brows drew together in puzzlement. “You make no sense, boy. Your words have a foreign flavor that is unfamiliar to me and their meaning is muddled.” His expression cleared. “Ah, I see. Poor lad. Addle brained, no doubt.”

“Addle brained?” Disbelief stuck the words in her throat. “Addle brained?”

Galahad nodded solemnly. “’Tis a sure sign of a mind befuddled when a youth repeats his words.”

“Repeats his words? I don’t repeat my words.”

Galahad cast her a pitying look as if she were some pathetic creature not worth wasting his time on and slipped his sword back in its sheath. “Now, be gone with you, lad, and leave me to my prayers.”

Galahad turned in dismissal and Tessa stared at his broad back. The man not only thought she was a boy but a stupid boy at that. Well, not for long.

“Wait just one minute. We need to get a few things clear.”

Galahad turned toward her slowly and his gaze meshed with hers. His eyes narrowed and a warning simmered there. This was not a man used to taking orders. Unease trickled through her. “What do you want, boy?”

“I want quite a bit but we’ll start with the basics. First of all, I’m not a boy.”

He shrugged. “You are a feeble excuse for a man.”

“I’m not a man. I’m a girl—er—a woman.”

His gaze traveled over her blonde hair caught in its low ponytail, navy linen blazer, white oxford shirt and jeans, then back to her eyes. “No woman of proper demeanor, nay even a slut, would don clothing such as yours.” Sympathy softened the look
in his eyes. “Now then, boy, from where do you come?”

“I’m not a boy!” Tessa gritted her teeth. Obviously there was only one way to convince this medieval Neanderthal. She grabbed the edges of her jacket and opened it wide. “See. Look. What do you call these?”

He drew his dark brows together thoughtfully. “’Tis an unusual garment.”

She glanced down and groaned. The oxford shirt revealed none of her feminine curves, exactly why she typically wore it for class, but was not much help right now. Great. No wonder he still thought she was male. “Okay, now watch.” She reached behind her back and pulled the fabric tight against her chest. “There. What do you think now? Boobs.”

She glanced up to meet his gaze and froze. He stared at her chest with an intensity that brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, as if he’d never seen breasts before. Maybe she’d gone a tad too far. This was the Middle Ages after all. They probably didn’t use the word
boobs
, although she was fairly certain he caught her meaning. She snatched the lapels of her jacket and yanked it closed. “That’s enough. You got the point.”

“Indeed.” He swept a low mocking bow. “My
lady
.”

He straightened and the wicked light of a man at ease with casual flirtation and effortless seduction danced in his eyes. “Please forgive my error. I see now how very mistaken I was. I can only believe ’tis the unexpected nature of your presence that clouded my senses. I should well have noted the delicate curve of your cheek, the length of lash shielding your eyes, the
full pout of your lip and the firm thrust of your,” he grinned, “boobs.”

“Oh, jeez.” She rolled her gaze toward the arched, stone ceiling and muttered more to herself than to him. “How humiliating.”

“Still, ’tis but one certain way to know a wench from a lad.” With one, strong arm he pulled her into his embrace. Before she could so much as squeak, his lips crushed hers. She struggled but it was like fighting a tree. A huge, solid, unyielding oak. His arms were tempered steel pinning her tight to his hard, muscled chest, his lips firm and heated against hers. For a fleeting second desire washed over her and she wanted to surrender to the passion in his kiss. In any time period this guy knew what he was doing. How easy would it be to enjoy his knowledgeable touch? He drew back and stared down at her, for the barest moment looking as intrigued and affected by their encounter as she. His grin was a bit lopsided, his arrogance slipping just a touch. “Aye. Indeed you are a female.”

“Indeed I am.” He released her and without thinking she clasped her hands together, twisted and rammed her elbow into his stomach.

“Oooph.” He doubled over and she smiled with satisfaction.

“St. Margaret Mary’s High School. Self Defense 101.”

He gasped. “I would not call it defense.”

She dusted off her hands in an exaggerated gesture of a job well done. “Don’t ever mess with one of Sister Abigail’s graduates.”

Tessa never even saw him move. One moment he was bent, clutching his stomach and the next she was
jerked through the air, turned and pinned flat, her back against his chest. One massive arm encircled her waist, his other wrapped around her just below her neck. Her feet dangled a good three inches above the floor. His grip was surprisingly restrained but left no doubt that this specimen of medieval manhood could crush her as easily as he snuffed out a candle.

His voice growled beside her ear. “And you should not, er, ‘mess’ with one trained under the guidance of the king’s master at arms himself.”

“Put me down, you big ape.” She kicked out, trying to break free. “What kind of knight are you anyway? Between this and that kiss you laid on me, the age of chivalry is obviously not what it’s cracked up to be.”

“Chivalrous behavior is wasted on those who do not display courtesy themselves.” His breath was warm against her neck and a twinge of excitement shivered through her. “Still, my apologies.” He loosened his grip and she dropped to the floor. “Perhaps ’twould be best to begin our acquaintance anew.”

“Perhaps it ’twould.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “You first.”

“I?” Confusion furrowed his forehead. “’Tis not I who interrupted you.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” What the hell was she supposed to do now? She pulled a steadying breath and stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Tessa St. James. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure, dear lady, is mine.” He clasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss that was barely more than a whisper. His dark gaze never wavered from hers and unexpectedly her breath caught. Merlin
sure had this guy pegged, all right. He was a hunk and he knew it. “What is your purpose here, Tessa St. James?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” His eyes really were something.

“I have naught to do save listen.” Eyes that were blue as the night with the glitter of stars scattered here and there.

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“’Tis apparent, fair lady, you are a stranger to this land. Your arrival ’twould seem to be the place to begin.” And his voice, deep and resonant with a gentle strength that seemed to seep inside her soul. He was good.

“Well…” She stared up at him, caught in the raw power of his presence. Merlin wasn’t the only one practicing magic around here. “I was in the—how tall are you anyway? About six-three, six-four maybe?”

“I stand a head above most men but not so tall as my horse. But you…how could I not see you for what you are? As tiny and delicate as a rose in bloom.” He gazed at her with a look that clearly indicated she was one blossom he wouldn’t mind plucking. A look that left her wondering just how delightful plucking might be. He was very good.

And he knew it. Maybe it was the satisfied upward quirk of his lips at the corners or the way he leaned subtly closer to her as if to snatch her, unresisting, into his arms or the tinge of success that shaded his eyes, or maybe it was the whole package presented by the body language of Sir Hunk, but Tessa abruptly realized the man thought he had her in the palm of his hand. He wasn’t far wrong.

In the interest of self-preservation, she took a hasty step back and shook her head. “Watch it, pal. That rose business may work like a charm on your typical damsel in distress but I’m made of different stuff. So you can turn off the knight-in-shining-armor charm right now.”

His eyes widened with innocence. “I fear you have mistaken my intentions.”

“Right.”

He heaved a patient sigh, as if used to dealing with recalcitrant females. “I shall watch my words with you in the future. Now, how came you to be here unbeknownst to me? I heard no sound of your entry into the chapel.”

“Remember that long story I mentioned?”

He nodded.

“This is part of it.”

“I can well imagine what kind of tale would explain your strange garb.”

“My strange—oh, my clothes.” She glanced down and shrugged. “Actually, where I come from this is considered almost classic, in a terribly casual sort of way.”

“Odd leggings.” He reached out a long, tanned finger and poked at her jeans. “Why do you not wear a gown? Even in the far reaches of the realm, women do not wear clothing such as this. ’Tis not suitable for a female.”

“It’s suitable for me. Besides, I didn’t have time to pack. I arrived rather unexpectedly.”

“Arrived?”

“Yeah, here in the chapel. In Camelot or whatever. One minute I was minding my own business in the li
brary, looking at your picture I might add, and the next I was whisked here, apparently through time and space and—what are you doing?”

Galahad’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword. His eyes gleamed.

“Galahad?” Her stomach fluttered at the expression on his face. A look of consideration, speculation and suspicion. “Come on pal, what are you thinking?”

“I am wondering if thou art indeed the demon I believed when first I saw you.” His words were slow and measured. “Your talk of time and space is curious and bespeaks of forces best left unknown to mortal man. How do you know my name?” His fingers tightened around the sword.

“I didn’t realize you were that sensitive about a little thing like a name but believe me, it’s no big deal.” Who knew he’d be set off so easily? She’d better watch her step. She had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to cut off her head with the slightest provocation. “Merlin told me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Merlin?”

“You know. Long beard? Blue dress? Tap dances?”

“Tap dances?”

“’Tis a sure sign of a mind befuddled when a man repeats his words.” She tossed him a smug smile. “Confusion and stupidity are not the same thing.”

He stared at her for a long, tense moment. Anxiety clenched her jaw. Oh Lord, surely they had a sense of humor in the Middle Ages? Without warning he threw back his head and laughed. A warm, booming, hearty sound that reverberated through the chapel and resounded through her blood.

“I didn’t know anybody actually threw their head
back like that when they laughed,” she said under her breath. “Must be a macho, medieval kind of thing.”

“God’s breath, woman.” Galahad wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. “You’ve a clever wit about you, I’ll grant you that.”

“Thanks.” At least he didn’t slap her on the back like she was one of the boys. A whack from one of those huge hands would knock her halfway across the room. But his grin was infectious and she returned it in spite of herself. “I think.”

“So, you are acquainted with the king’s counselor?”

“We’ve met.”

A glitter of speculation shone in his eyes. “Are you perhaps an apprentice to the sorcerer?”

A vision of Mickey Mouse and dancing broomsticks popped into her head. “Not exactly. Apparently, I’m here to be taught some kind of lesson.”

“Ah, a student of the mystic arts then.”

“No, that’s not it. It seems Mr. Wizard is ticked at how history regards all this King Arthur stuff and he’s picked me to make an example of.” Her gaze skimmed the chapel. “Not that I think this is really happening, mind you. I’m still hoping for a coma.”

He leveled her a puzzled frown. “Coma?”

Tessa sighed in resignation. “Never mind, Big Guy. At this point it doesn’t matter. Either I’m going to wake up or I’m stuck here until Merlin decides otherwise. He’s got a little job in mind for me. A quest, I guess.”

“A quest?” Galahad chuckled. “A woman on a quest?”

“Yes.” She drew the single syllable out slowly. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“A problem? ’Tis not a problem.” He gazed down at her with condescension. “’Tis simple. Quests are not for fair ladies. ’Tis a man’s place, nay his duty, to undertake such an endeavor. A woman would but make any venture of the like more difficult, perhaps even deadly.”

“So…I guess that means you wouldn’t consider taking a woman along on a quest?” She studied him carefully. “Any old quest?”

He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “’Twould be foolhardy at best. Only a man with half a mind would agree to such an unwise act.”

“Boy, are you in for a rude awakening.” What would he do when he learned of Merlin’s plans? Galahad didn’t stand a chance against the magician. Anybody who could travel through time could certainly bend the will of a mere medieval man. Even one as obviously powerful and stubborn and sexist as this one. Tessa grinned. “I think it’s time for you and I to get a couple of things straight. And since Mr. Wizard has disappeared, it’s up to me to fill you in. You see, you’re going on a quest and I’m—”

“Now, now, no need to go into that quite yet.” Merlin’s voice sounded behind her.

Satisfaction flooded Tessa. It was a hunch, but she would have bet Merlin didn’t want Galahad to know of his plans just yet. And she’d further suspected the wizard wasn’t far away. Her attempt to explain to the knight had exactly the result she wanted. She turned and smiled sweetly. “Merlin, old buddy, just the guy I wanted to see. Did you take care of your odds and ends?”