Jakarta's Trust (Castle Phantasie Book 1) (2 page)

“Because at least then I’d know you want more than the moment with me.” He got to his feet. “I love you, Jak, you know that.”

She nodded. She did know that. Unlike her, he was free with the words. The few times she had managed to express her emotions, the words came out stilted, lacking even a hint of the depth of love she felt for him.

He paced a small circle around the rug. “I want to spend my life with you.”

“I want to be with you too.”

His mouth twisted. “But you want an escape option, should things not go as expected.”

She bowed her head, not meeting his eyes. Her voice was stiff when she said, “I do love you, Teague. It’s just—”

He sighed. “I know what the problem is. Don’t you think it’s time to let go of the past?”

Her eyes widened. “I have! Do you know how hard it was for me to start seeing you? I wanted to call off that first date, but I didn’t.” She lifted her head, trying to convey her earnestness when their gazes locked. “I was terrified to move in with you three months ago, but I did it. Why do you have to keep pushing me? Why can’t you be happy with what we have?”

Her heart broke when she saw his shoulders fall. He turned his back to her, and she knew the argument was over for now. It wasn’t gone though. The issue hovered between them all the time, tainting every moment they spent together. Half the time, she was so tense about another impending proposal that she couldn’t relax. She had trouble sleeping now, and she knew it was the same for him. Until he brought up the future talk, and kept bringing it up, her sleep had finally been nightmare-free for the first time in years.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” he said with an utter lack of emotion. “We’ll want to hit the slopes early tomorrow.”

She forced her voice to sound pleasant and polite. “Yes, I’m sure we will.” She winced at the stiff exchange, sensing the chasm opening between them had just widened a few more inches. Castle Phantasie might be a dream come true for a vacation, but it might also be the last stop at the end of their relationship’s road. Why couldn’t he be happy with the moment and forget about the future?

He lay beside her, casting a glance at the luminous hands of the clock on the dresser every few minutes. The numbers seemed to change with infuriating slowness. Jakarta’s even breathing indicated she was asleep, but she had required the aid of a Valium to get there. She had claimed jet lag and the time difference prompted the medication, but he knew it was because his proposal and the subsequent argument had troubled her.

Teague balled his hands into fists around the thick fur cover. He had promised himself he wouldn’t ask her to marry him the very night they arrived, but the moment had felt right. Holding her hand to his heart, feeling the connection that sizzled between them, he had assumed she couldn’t possibly deny him yet again.

He sighed, finally rolling over onto his side, with his back toward her. He knew her refusal wasn’t about him, but her rejection still hurt. At the heart of the matter was her lack of trust in him and in the strength of their bond. She couldn’t make the next logical leap-of-faith that would take them to the future he craved.

He wanted to know she would always be there by his side. He wanted to watch her belly swell with his children, and to grow old with her, while she seemed content with living moment-to-moment.

That wasn’t enough for him any longer. If she couldn’t trust him, their relationship was doomed. That’s why he fervently hoped his plans for tomorrow night would work. If she felt threatened and left him, he knew he wouldn’t get her back, because she would never trust him again.

But then, did she really trust him now?

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Her muscles ached in places she had forgotten she had. A day on the slopes, skiing down the Alps, had shown her just how out of shape she was. Jakarta shot a glance at Teague, as he stripped off his outer coat and hung it on the coat rack. He didn’t seem more than a little winded. Obviously, his tri-weekly trips to the gym and weekly squash games with one of the partners in his law firm had prepared him adequately for a day of rigorous activity.

It had been fun, of course. It was heady to plunge down the mountain, knowing she was at the mercy of nature, with only her own wits and two ski poles to save her if something went wrong.

Still, that was enough adventure for her. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and they were due to fly out in the early hours of Christmas Day, to make it back in time for dinner with his parents. She would be content to spend the next two days sipping hot chocolate in the lobby by the huge fireplace that dominated one whole wall, basking in the candlelight from the tree.

Better yet, she’d rather spend the rest of their time in this fabulous room, making love in front of their smaller, cozier fireplace or on the round bed that was surprisingly comfortable and similar to a normal bed.

She hesitated to suggest that plan, not certain what his reception would be. From the time they woke that morning, he had acted as if last night hadn’t happened, but she could tell by his bleary eyes that he hadn’t slept, and by the way he sometimes studied her peripherally, that he hadn’t forgotten her latest refusal.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. I’m too tired to be hungry.”

He nodded. “Why don’t I send for a bottle of wine and a plate of cheese, and we’ll relax for a while?

Maybe later, we’ll want to have dinner in one of the three restaurants.”

“That sounds like a plan.” She rolled her tight shoulders. “I think I’ll have a hot bath while we wait for the wine.”

Teague waved his hand. “You have plenty of time.”

When she emerged an hour later, freshly bathed and still warm from the Jacuzzi, wearing only a white silk robe, she found Teague sprawled across the overstuffed sofa. Two glasses of wine were on the table in front of him, as was a medium-sized gift box, wrapped with a green satin bow. She frowned. “What’s that?”

“Scharzhofberger Auslese. It’s not the most expensive wine Castle Phantasie stocks, but it’s a respectable vintage—”

Jakarta rolled her eyes. “Not the wine. I’m talking about the box.”

He smiled. “Oh, that’s a present for you.”

Her frown deepened. “I thought we agreed to exchange our gifts Christmas night, when we get home?”

He shrugged. “So I smuggled along a tiny one. Shoot me.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Come on and open it. You know you want to.”

She couldn’t resist the allure of the package, or the teasing glint in his eyes. Jakarta went to the sofa and sat down beside him. She frowned when she realized his lighthearted façade hid a deeper layer of tension. His gaze was watchful, and his hand wasn’t quite steady when he lifted a glass to sip the pale Riesling.

She had a stirring of unease when she pulled off the bow and lifted the lid. His indrawn breath of anxiety was barely discernable over her gasp when she peeled back the tissue paper to find a pair of white furry handcuffs. Stricken, she looked up at him. “What the hell is this?”

“A gift.” All trace of teasing was gone. He sounded deadly serious, and grim lines bracketed his mouth.

She dropped the box on the table, anxious to rid herself of the sight of the cuffs. They were too much like the pair her ex-husband liked to confine her with, right before he had sex with her. Of course, his had been the real thing, strictly police issue, to accompany his job as a detective. “Why would you ever get me something like this?”

“It’s a gift,” he said again, no less somber, “But more for me than you.”

She shook her head, bewildered. In two years, Teague had never once given her any indication that he liked to play the sort of perverse control games Darien had enjoyed. She started to get to her feet, feeling the need to escape. His hand shot out quickly, clamping around her wrist. She struggled to pull free.

“Don’t fight me, Jak. I won’t hurt you.” He looked sad, rather than demented.

She cast a wild-eyed glance at the cuffs. “Oh, yeah? Then why did you bring those?”

“Desperation,” he said quietly.

His tone caught her attention, and she stopped struggling. “What?”

Teague’s eyes captured hers, and the pain in them cut through her. “I can’t keep going like this, not knowing what tomorrow will bring, knowing you don’t trust me.”

She shook her head. “I do trust you.”

He grimaced. “No, you don’t. You trust me more than you trust any other man, which I know is difficult for you, but it isn’t enough.” His grip eased on her wrist, and he lifted her other hand, pressing hers between his. “I need to know you trust me completely, Jakarta. If you can’t commit to a future right now, I need to believe there’s at least a possibility that you can someday.”

“I…” She trailed off before uttering a reckless promise.

“You say you love me.”

She nodded, but he ignored her.

“Love and trust go hand in hand. I’m asking you to give me one night to show you can trust me. I need more than the verbal assurance that you do. I need proof.”

“What kind of proof?” Her stomach churned with nausea, and the cuffs drew her eyes once more.

“I want you to surrender control to me.” He dropped one of her hands and leaned forward to pick up the cuffs. “These are flimsy, meant only for lovers’ games. It’s the symbolism that matters, Jak. I want you to wear these for the rest of the night and let me do whatever I want to you.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength. “And I want you to do this because you trust me, not because you want to placate me.”

Her eyes burned with tears. “What if I can’t do that?”

He looked down. “As I said, I can’t keep doing this.” Teague straightened. “It all comes down to tonight, Jak. The decision is yours. I know how bad things were for you, and I know what he did to you. Hell, I was there beside you in the courthouse hall when he threatened to kill you after the judge granted the divorce.” He squeezed her hand. “I know what I’m asking of you, but I 
need
 this.”

Yes, he had been beside her. From the first day she went to his office to hire him to handle her divorce, she had always been able to count on Teague. Jakarta frowned, realizing how much she had relied on him, especially in the first few months after her divorce was final. Darien had never made good on his threat, but Teague had hovered beside her, protecting her, and giving her his support.

As their relationship changed, she became emotionally stronger, and his support hadn’t wavered. It had only changed to accommodate her newfound independence. He had never tried to stifle that. The only thing he had ever asked was for her to trust in their future, and she couldn’t do that. It brought a lump to her throat to know he thought she didn’t trust him, just because she didn’t trust in marriage any longer.

It was easier than she expected to take the cuffs from him and fasten one around her wrist. “Just because I don’t want to attach a label to us and be bound to a future that might not turn out as we expect doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.” She swallowed. “If you need this to prove I do trust you, then I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

He nodded, reaching for her other wrist. Jakarta surrendered it to him, squeezing her eyes shut when he snapped the fur manacle around her other wrist. She had a momentary recollection of the bite of steel cutting into her flesh deep enough to bruise, but that faded when she pulled on the cuffs. They were loose, hanging more like bracelets than handcuffs. The chain holding them together was plastic, and she could break it with little effort.

She looked up and met his eyes, licking her lips. “Now what?”

He put his arm around her, pulling her closer. “I just want to hold you for a little while.”

She scooted closer, trying to remove some of the tension gripping her body. The brush of 
faux
 fur against her wrists was meant to be sensuous, but it was a forceful reminder that she had surrendered total control to her lover for the night. If she changed her mind or panicked, their relationship would be over.

Slowly, she turned her head to rest her cheek against Teague’s chest. The soft cashmere of his blue sweater was comforting, as was the way he stroked his hand up and down her arm. Her mouth was still dry, and she attempted to swallow. “I’m thirsty.”

Teague leaned forward to retrieve her untouched glass of wine, bringing it to her lips with deliberate movements. She tilted her mouth to drink, as he brought up the base of the glass. She sensed the wine rushing forward and jerked away without thought, fearing she would choke.

She knew she had made a mistake when she looked up to see the sadness in his eyes. She wondered if he would end things right then. He studied her for a moment before leaning forward. Wine dripped down her chin and into the cleavage of her robe. His tongue traced a path from her lips, down her neck, and to the V where the robe gapped.

Jakarta shivered at the light touch, and her nipples pressed into the silk when he flicked open the lapels with one hand and burrowed his face between her breasts. His tongue swiped away the last of the wine before tracing lazy circles over her skin, moving ever closer to her right nipple, without making contact.

She longed to bury her hands in his hair, but when she tried to lift her wrists, his other hand grasped the chain between them, preventing her from moving. His tongue continued working toward her nipple, finally arriving at the nut-brown peak. He drew it into his mouth, and she moaned with pleasure. Teague bit down gently, and she squirmed. Her hands tried to rise again, but he applied enough pressure to keep them in place against her stomach.

He traced her nipple with the tip of his tongue, pausing to flick rapidly over the tip. As she shifted her weight, his free hand moved under her left breast. He cupped it, rubbing his thumb across her neglected nipple. It responded immediately by hardening further, seeking more of his light touch.