Impulse (6 page)

No. That wasn't true.
Sylvia
had ruined Robbie and Marko's brotherly bond, not me. It was her lies that had poisoned things between them.

When I opened my eyes they fell on a massive hardcover resting on top of the bookshelf. It was a book I'd always wanted to read,
The Pillars of the Earth
by Ken Follett.

‘Perfect,' I whispered. I needed something huge and epic to temporarily sweep me away from my very odd current predicament.

I lugged the huge slab of a book back to bed with me and was soon sucked into the darkness and danger of medieval England. For the first hour or so the distraction of the story worked, but then I heard what I thought was a low voice, mumbling, and then a soft moan, from behind Marko's door, and I couldn't read another word.

Setting the book down and using the corner of the bed-sheet as a bookmark, I got up and tiptoed across the room. Putting my ear to the door that separated us, I strained to listen, but heard nothing. Perhaps he'd rolled over in his sleep. Or, perhaps he had—I hated to think it—
company.
It was all too easy to remember the way the women of Marin had looked at Marko, as though he was some kind of man-banquet they wanted to dig into.

I edged away from the door, sickened at the idea of Marko with someone else. But then an irresistible pull drew me back. The need to know was overpowering.

Without pausing to consider my actions, I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned. It was unlocked. At a snail's pace, I opened the door and peered inside the room, the hinges creaking in the process.

As I'd recalled, Marko's quarters were much larger than mine. Though most of the area—the dining room and lounge—were well lit with light-crystal chandeliers, his bedroom was dim, lit only by a lone light-crystal lamp on the bedside table.

He was in bed, alone, sprawled out on his back with an arm thrown across his face. His chest was bare, pale and smooth. I stood there gaping at his spectacular sleeping form. The noises I'd heard had been Marko's sleep talk.

Before I could backtrack to my room, Marko stirred, moved his arm away from his face and opened his eyes. He lay there, blinking at me for a moment, with that lost, dreamy look on his face, as if he wasn't quite awake yet. Perhaps if I retreated without saying a word, he'd roll over and go back to sleep, and forget I had ever entered his room.

But just as I drew the door to a close, Marko said, ‘Miranda,' in a low, sleep-gravelly voice that sent a thousand warm tingles spreading across my skin.

I sucked in a deep breath and opened the door, halfway, so that only a portion of my peeping-Tom face showed.

‘Is everything okay?' he asked.

‘Sorry. I couldn't sleep and I thought…thought I'd heard something.' I drew the door almost shut. God this was embarrassing. ‘I'll just go back to sleep now.'

‘Wait, come back.'

I gently pushed the door open and slipped back into Marko's room. It smelled of the beach, and pine, and that distinct man smell that made my blood swish through my veins extra fast.

‘You sure you're okay?' He was sitting up now, the sheet bunched up around his waist, his face serious with concern, until a half-smile formed on his lips. ‘I wasn't snoring, I hope?'

‘No, no snoring. I just thought I heard…voices. It was nothing.' I kept my eyes on his, not allowing them to slip down to his naked chest. It was a struggle, and a good reason to get out of there, fast. ‘Okay, then, goodnight.'

‘Wait.' He frowned and chewed on his full bottom lip. ‘Miranda…' he hesitated for a while after my name, ‘you can come in here whenever you like and wake me, no matter what. That's why I've put you in the adjoining room. I wanted you as close to me as possible while you settle in.'

His words gave me mental images of us ‘as close as possible' on his bed.

‘Oh. Okay.' I forced my eyes away from his sexy, sleep-hooded ones, the pupils dilated so that his eyes seemed dark, bottomless pools.

I needed to get out of there before I flung myself at him. He hadn't yet indicated that he still felt the same way about me. Perhaps he still cared—but just not in that way.
He still needed me, after all, for Marin; even if he didn't
want
me.

The more I thought about it the more it made sense. He would have told me on the beach, when we'd reunited for the first time, that he still wanted me in that way. He would have demonstrated it physically, somehow, like in a passionate kiss. But he hadn't. He had probably just turned up at the beach out of politeness, because of his promise; a chaperone to an underwater city and nothing more. Or—and I didn't want to entertain this thought but I had to be realistic—his reasons for showing up were more than likely to do with Marin's lack of an heir.

‘Why are you staring at me like that?' Marko ran a hand through his mussed hair and smiled in a way that made my heart melt. ‘Do I have sleep creases on my face or something?'

‘Oh…it's nothing. I think I've got ocean-lag, but…I'm finally feeling sleepy.'

Marko nodded and eyed me thoughtfully. ‘You'd let me know if you were feeling ill or if anything was wrong? I'd like to think that we're friends enough for you to trust me.'

And there it was—
friends.
Oh God. I'd been friend-zoned by the guy I was in love with.

‘I do trust you.' My throat tightened and my eyes stung. A dark feeling spread through my chest, as though a great hollow had opened up and sucked my heart into oblivion. I felt stupid to have hung my hopes so high on the idea of Marko and I being together after a year apart.

‘Okay…so, goodnight.' I waved, like an idiot, before scurrying out of his room.

Closing the door behind me, I leant against it, catching my breath. In a bid to stem the impending tears I sank my
teeth into my bottom lip and counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty, until a strange calm passed over me.

In a sense, knowing that Marko only saw me as a friend gave me some kind of clarity. Instead of focusing on flirting and guessing his feelings towards me I could concentrate on the other reason I came down to Marin: to make certain the city and Marko were safe, and to find out once and for all if Sylvia was as true as Marko believed.

I ended up reading into the early hours. It wasn't until halfway through the book before my eyes became heavy and I finally fell asleep.

While sleeping, I dreamed Marko came into my room. Bare-chested, and looking like some kind of dark-haired angel, he knelt down beside the bed and pressed his wine-stained lips, feather-light, against my own, before disappearing into the blackness of sleep.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, remembering Marko's promise of a visit to the gardens, I dragged myself out of bed, forcing the memory of last night's depressing conversation out of my head, and opened the wardrobe, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a fitted black-and-white striped stretch top. The temperature in Marin was controlled into seasons by their source of energy, the light crystals. If I remembered correctly, it was the end of their summer and the beginning of autumn. I eyeballed Marko's door and debated knocking on it to see if he was awake, when I noticed that it was slightly ajar. Certain that I'd closed it last night, I wondered if maybe I hadn't dreamed up his visit, and if perhaps the dream-kiss had been real.

A knock on the main bedroom door broke my thoughts.

‘Hello? Miranda, isn't it?'

I spun around to see a short—even shorter than me—stocky girl with golden, curly hair peeking out beneath her maids' handkerchief. Rosy cheeked and lips bursting with a hundred smiles, her wide green eyes roved over me with open curiosity.

‘Hi.' I couldn't have kept from smiling if I tried: she had the sort of face that compelled you to grin.

When she stepped in closer and set the tray down on the table, I could see that she wasn't a young girl; she was in fact double my age, late thirties perhaps. She had lots of little laugh lines around her eyes, letting me know she enjoyed life and found lots to laugh about. I liked her instantly.

‘I've brought you a lovely breakfast. Rice pudding, with jam on the bottom, the way my own mother makes it.'

‘Thanks…' My mouth stayed open in an unspoken question.

‘Call me Jill or Jilly. I like Jilly best. It's what everybody who's close to me calls me. Oh, and Marko is at a meeting and should be done in an hour or so.'

‘Thanks, Jilly.' I glanced at the food. ‘This looks great.'

Jilly smiled and put her hands on her well-rounded hips. ‘So have you come back to live here?'

Her familiarity made me grin. At least someone was getting to the point around here. I wished Marko would do the same: just ask me why I'd returned so that I could tell him, in plain words, how strongly I felt for him; that I maybe even loved him, and also that I thought his sister was as evil as Damir, and could quite possibly want to murder him for his throne.

‘Maybe,' I said, remembering Jilly's question. ‘For a while at least…but I'm not sure how long I'll stay.'

‘Away from your family and everything you've ever known? It must be a good reason.' She winked. ‘Is it Marko?' Her smile turned wicked. ‘I'd leave my husband for the king in a second—and not because he's the king.' She fanned herself with a cloth. ‘He's achingly handsome, isn't he?'

I nodded. Achingly was a good word to describe how it felt to sleep so close to Marko and not be able to touch him.

Jilly swatted me on the bottom with her cloth and laughed. ‘Stop thinking those naughty thoughts, Miranda. I can tell by the look on your face.'

‘I'm not,' I lied, slapping the cloth away. But my red-hot face gave me away.

‘So, do you plan on marrying him? Like he wanted? Or did you come for something…or
someone
else?' She paused and gave me another one of her loaded winks. ‘The rather handsome Robbie, perhaps?'

A barrage of questions like this should have annoyed me, but it didn't. It only made me question my decision to stay here, despite knowing Marko's feelings. Instead of perving on Marko while he slept half-naked, I should have been warning him of Marin's perpetual danger at Sylvia's hands—whether he liked to hear it or not. That was a big part of the reason for coming. I wasn't going to leave my family behind for a crush that was no longer reciprocated. At least I hoped not.

‘I just came back because I wanted to return…as a free citizen,' I finally answered Jilly, who was fussing with the breakfast setting, giving the cutlery a quick polish with the same cloth she'd whipped my butt with. ‘Is Anne around?' I asked, to change the subject, and because I really wanted to see her.

Jilly's smile quickly receded and was replaced with a subtle pinch between her brows. ‘Anne doesn't work the upper levels of the castle anymore. She works below, in the dungeons, delivering food to the prisoners.'

She must have been talking about another Anne, because the Anne I knew would definitely not be comfortable
feeding dangerous criminals. She was way too gentle and shy. But Jilly had said that Anne wasn't on the upper levels
anymore
, which implied we were speaking about the same Anne.

‘The dungeons?' I shook my head. ‘But Anne's too…I don't know…I just can't imagine her wanting to work there.' I leant against the dining table and furrowed my brow. ‘Why would Marko do that?'

Jilly set the cutlery back down beside the breakfast bowl.

‘It wasn't Marko who ordered the changes,' she said in a scratchy whisper. ‘It was Sylvia.' She cleared her throat. ‘I'd better go.' Her voice resumed its former chirpiness. ‘I've plenty of jobs to do. Nice to meet you, Miranda,' she called over her shoulder before leaving.

Though the room was warm, I shivered after Jilly left. The idea of Anne down in the cold, dark dungeons, giving food to Damir and his men, made my skin crawl. It was awful and wrong. Anne belonged up here where it was much safer. If anything, Marko couldn't find a more loyal and trusting employee in the castle. Anne had been completely enamoured of Marko.

I plonked myself down on a chair at the small, wooden dining table. This new information fed my fears. Sylvia had arranged for this, perhaps to get rid of somebody Marko could trust. She could even be using Anne to send messages to Damir.

I sighed and massaged my temples with the balls of my palms, wondering just how I was going to broach the subject of Sylvia, and now Anne, with Marko, without getting his back up. But it had to be done and today was the day to do it. Otherwise, what on earth was I here for?

Because of everything I'd eaten the night before, and the troubling news I'd just received, I wasn't very hungry
for once, and didn't even bother raising the lid to look at the rice pudding, though I'd probably regret it later.

Footsteps interrupted my thoughts and Marko strode through the open door through which Jilly had left.

‘Good morning,' he said. ‘Sorry I wasn't here when you woke, but I had some…' his eyes skipped to the untouched food, ‘…matters to attend to.' Concern creased his brow. ‘You haven't eaten?'

‘I'm not hungry.'

He nodded and then shrugged. ‘We can eat while we're out.' His eyes roved down to my lips and back up. Again I wondered if last night's dream kiss had actually happened.

‘I'll give you a few minutes to get ready if you like.'

‘Okay, thanks,' I said, wondering if he was implying that I needed it. ‘That would be great.'

Marko disappeared behind the adjoining door. I could hear him moving about his room, the clank of a glass, the opening of a drawer and the shuffling of papers.

I rushed into the ensuite and began to do my hair in front of the mirror above the basin. It was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but I recalled Marko saying how much he loved it when I'd worn it down at the ball after the fertility dance, so I yanked the elastic out and wet my hands before running them through my hair to bring out the slight curl. It was stupid of me to even think it, but perhaps having my hair this way would stir a memory of how he'd once felt about me.