Adapting Desires (Endangered Heart Series Book 3) (14 page)

She heard him grind his teeth together. “Humor is hardly appropriate in this situation. For all we know Cyrus could be waiting just outside the property and you want to go gallivanting around? Why are you so casual about this?”

She retreated back to the sofa and folded her legs beneath her. How could she describe this without sounding like a complete idiot? “Fear is its own mind game. The same kind that Cyrus was playing when he tried to keep us apart. If either one gives in to it, he wins. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want any part of that.”

Kasper tapped his knuckles against the fireplace mantle. “Well, isn’t that a
nice
theory?”

“Don’t patronize me, Kasper!”

“Oh, I’m not,” he scoffed. “I just find it amusing how motherhood and anxiety go hand-in-hand, and yet you want the one position but you are so ready to dismiss the responsibilities that go with it. It is as if you want to be in a play and do not want to learn the lines!”

“I—” Emilia stood back up, her mouth hanging opening in shock. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

“What do you expect?” he yelled back. “I want
you
. Not a child, a dog, or your halfwit friends, but you, Emilia! The only thing that truly matters to me is you and your safety—”

She held both of her hands out in protest. “How did we get from talking about going to a party to the adoption issue?”

“That seems to be what everyone around here is talking about.” Kasper threw his hands up in complete frustration. “I don’t like how you are going around here, whispering in everyone’s ear, and then have the audacity to talk to me about the partnership of marriage!”

“What are you talking about? You sound completely paranoid.” She looked away from him and to the door. The oversized room suddenly seemed too small for the both of them. “I’m so sick of having these stupid fights where we don’t get anywhere.”

“So am I,” he admitted sadly, his anger seeming to be gone from him as quickly as it had arrived.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then I’m going to Claudette’s.”

His rush for the door was postponed by her own agile feet making it there first. “Emilia—”

“No,” she said sharply. “You can’t lock me in this house or keep me under your thumb, even if you do think it’s for my safety.”

Silently, they stared at each other for a moment, the unspoken words between them meaning everything and nothing, until she turned from him and stiffened her shoulders, slowly making her way up the stairs.

Kasper held his breath until he heard one of the bedroom doors shut softly. If the lack of noise meant that she was madder at him or not, he remained unsure. Instead of over thinking it, however, he made his way to a bar stool in the kitchen and watched the wind whip up snow off the top of the banks. Every so often he could catch the sunlight reflecting off enormous icicles hanging off the stable roof and the naked trees. It was so lovely that for an instant he almost called for Emilia to join him for the view. He even wanted to suggest a walk under the icy trees, but when he recalled how they left things, he only became intensely sad and recoiled at the thought immediately.

Instinctively, Kasper knew he should apologize, offer to escort her to the little party she wanted to go to—lest she should find someone else to. Regardless, his guilt was elsewhere, blossoming from the center of him. For a moment, Kasper pictured it like a matryoshka doll, his harnessed guilt contained by all his other emotions for Emilia. He had become so immersed in his happiness with Emilia that Kasper had let his guard down considerably. If he had been smarter, the sort of dependable husband he promised Emilia he would be, then Cyrus would have been dead and they would have one less thing to worry about.

Yet he did not take the proper precautions, and because of it the animal that was his cousin was on the loose—infectious, rabid, and a threat to the people he cared about. Because of Kasper’s lack of responsibility, there was cause for more fighting, which he did not enjoy in the least.

A walk did seem inspirational then, ideal really. So rarely could Kasper enjoy them during the warmer months that he knew he had to soak up as much of the outdoors as possible. And now that his nose functioned properly—even bore a slightly more regular shape—he considered that perhaps he may even enjoy the exercise that much more.

Grabbing his long black coat and leather gloves he usually only reserved for driving, Kasper took one last look in the direction of the bedroom door and sighed. With any luck, they both just needed some time to cool off.

***

Using her index finger, Emilia traced the leafy pattern on the bedspread. When that became boring, she switched views, tilting her head to the other side and doing it again with one of her thumbs.

Before the knock on the door came, she knew it would be Mrs. Levkin. Or at the least she hoped it would be. Emilia had simmered down a great deal, yet she had the feeling if she saw Kasper again too soon it would rise up again, flare like a sickness that had no cure. Additionally, Mrs. Levkin was the only person Emilia could ever really talk with about Kasper.

“Come in.” Emilia stiffened but didn’t bother sitting up. She had expected to cry after her fight with Kasper, but hadn’t. Is that the kind of marriage they would have now? The sort of relationship where fighting would be so commonplace that it would make them indifferent? Claudette had described her parents’ relationship to Emilia several times. From what she understood it was a constant boxing match, fight after fight until they were both knocked out. Though Emilia couldn’t picture it with Kasper, she knew people fell out of love with each other all of the time, grew up, changed, and moved on. Was it possible that the same thing could happen to them? If it was possible, what could she do to change it?

“Are you all right, dear?”

Emilia blinked hard and looked toward the window. After a call to Claudette, she learned that a trip to her friend’s new home couldn’t happen. As an alternative, she had spent the day doing her best to avoid Kasper through books and bad TV shows. Now, the dull light of sunset was just starting to creep through the curtains and reflecting rainbows off of brass candlesticks.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Emilia smiled sadly and got up to close the blinds. The last thing she wanted in her current mood was pretty patterns of light trying to make her optimistic. “I wanted to apologize to you earlier. No one likes to hear people fight, and if you were on the phone or anything…” Emilia trailed off and settled herself in an antique chair. Mrs. Levkin waved her concern away before taking a seat across from her.

“Nonsense. I wasn’t doing anything important anyway.” The older woman looked from the window before looking back to Emilia nervously. For the first time since Emilia had known her, Mrs. Levkin didn’t seem to know what to say. “The tree looks very nice.”

Emilia smiled faintly at the memory. “Thanks. I had help.”

Her attempt at changing the conversation having failed, Mrs. Levkin sighed. Since they were going to talk about it anyway, there didn’t seem to be any sense in avoiding the topic. “I know it’s none of my business, but—”

“No,” Emilia interrupted happily. “By all means.”

Mrs. Levkin leaned forward and clasped her hands together, making it obvious to Emilia that she had been looking for permission to broach the subject. “He is trying very hard.”

Emilia nodded. “I know that.”

“You’ve been trying very hard too,” Mrs. Levkin added. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Have I?” Emilia shook her head, laughing out loud at how ridiculous it all was. “Sometimes he makes me feel like a kid, like if he keeps me feeling down just enough he can control me.”

Once again, Mrs. Levkin waved. “That isn’t true and you know it.”

Emilia sucked at her bottom lip, almost certain that if she said it out loud she would finally start to cry. “He said I wouldn’t make a good mother.”

Visibly startled, Mrs. Levkin pulled away. “
What
?”

“He more or less said that I wanted to adopt for the novelty of it, that I didn’t understand everything involved in being a parent.”

“More or less? Maybe you just misunderstood.” Even through her smile, Mrs. Levkin’s face was lined with worry. “Either way, I’m sure he didn’t mean that. It was probably in the heat of the moment.”

“You’re probably right,” Emilia said sadly. “But what’s scary is that he ever had the idea to begin with. It makes me wonder what else is going on in that dark head of his.”

Chapter 12

There was no question that fighting with Kasper was terrible. Still, while math was never Emilia’s best subject, it seemed the worse the fight was, the better the sex was after. That had been an unexpected surprise of their relationship—a pleasant one at that. Yet what if that was just a crutch that was holding them up? A band-aid to their problems? Even though this particular aspect of their relationship bothered her, Emilia still couldn’t imagine discussing it with the older woman. Regardless of her respect for Mrs. Levkin, the idea of talking about the sexual element of her marriage felt downright awkward. Instead she tried bringing up the reasoning behind the fight itself.

“You know we starting fighting because of a
party
? This is the kind of stuff kids argue about, not married adults.”

“You
are
young,” Mrs. Levkin emphasized. “And you’ve been married less than a year. Once you’ve been together longer, these arguments will be fewer and farther in between.”

“Is the honeymoon phase over already?” Emilia huffed. “It seems too soon.”

Mrs. Levkin leaned forward in her chair, her face etched in confusion as she reached her hand out to rest on Emilia’s. It seemed to her that the older woman was struggling with some heavy thoughts of her own, but Emilia didn’t want to pry without provocation.

“I told you I was married once, didn’t I?”

Emilia only shook her head, secretly eager to hear more.

“I only married him so I could come to this country. I was only a little younger than you, but my country was very poor, and we were always led to believe that America was a place of limitless possibilities.”

With her tall stature and elegant posture, it wasn’t difficult to envision Mrs. Levkin as a blushing bride, though admittedly it was hard to picture her young. Regardless, Emilia could barely imagine anyone being desperate enough to be a mail-order bride—to marry a stranger as a means of escape.

“Really?” she asked. “Did it work out?”

Mrs. Levkin laughed freely. “Oh my goodness, no! As nice as he was in Moldova, the moment we arrived in the United States he became abusive, calling me names and hitting me when it suited him.” The older woman paused briefly and looked away before returning to her tale, the pain in her eyes evident even after all those passing years. “My limp is the result of one particularity bad episode.”

The information reeled in Emilia’s brain. Mrs. Levkin was one of the strongest women Emilia had ever known, maybe even the strongest. Even with the extent of her imagination, it was hard to imagine how much Mrs. Levkin had to evolve to become the person she was today. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t tell you this for sympathy,” she said simply. “The point is that not every relationship is perfect, and while things start out one way, they may not necessarily end there. People are always changing, but as long as you love each other, there isn’t any reason you can’t change together.

“Maybe you should both stop trying so hard and just enjoy one another.” Mrs. Levkin laughed to herself. “One thing you two have in common is that you think too much.”

Emilia shrugged. She had to admit the older woman had a point. “Maybe. Hopefully, when school starts again, I’ll be too busy to think.”

Mrs. Levkin smiled widely, but looked behind her as if to make sure they were still alone. “And if a baby comes into the picture…”

Emilia shook her head and pulled her hand away from Mrs. Levkin’s. “I don’t see Kasper warming up to that idea within the next decade or so.”

“We have all seen how much can change within a year. Give it that at the least before you start to panic.”

“You’re right.” Emilia smiled, but crossed her arms over herself, feeling defensive. After everything Mrs. Levkin had just shared with her, she knew she didn’t have any right to whine about being married to a great man who loved her. “I’m sorry for complaining.”

Mrs. Levkin shrugged. “The two of you are my taste of motherhood. I take the bad with the good.”

Mrs. Levkin stood up slowly, using her good leg as leverage for her bad one. Despite everything the older woman had revealed to her, Emilia knew that an opportunity like this would probably never come again. “I hate to sound nosy, but if I don’t ask the curiosity might literally kill me—”

“I was only with my husband for six years,” she said with a smile. “After that I fell in love with Mr. Levkin and we ran away together. We were never technically married, but we lived together as man and wife for nearly twenty years.”

“Wow, I thought I was romantic.”

Mrs. Levkin nodded seriously. “I was very lucky.”

“Yeah,” Emilia said, suddenly feeling hopeful. She parted the bedroom curtain to catch a glimmer of sundrenched icicles. “I guess I am too.”

With her mood changed, Emilia decided not to go to Claudette’s party and gave her a quick call after Mrs. Levkin left, excusing her absence on the last minute invitation with promises to get together before they each returned to school. Once she was sure the manor was empty, Emilia called out for Kasper, unsure of where he was, but instantly concerned that all the keys to the cars were on the hooks, but his favorite coat was not. And given Kasper’s protectiveness of her, it seemed highly unlikely that he would go too far from the manor. Perhaps, she considered, he had taken one of the horses out for a ride, patrolling the property to make sure Cyrus wasn’t there.

Laughing to herself, Emilia opened the hall closet and pulled on her riding boots. It was already dark, but the weather had been reasonable throughout the day, so she ventured the ice was minimal. She may not exactly have been considered an experienced rider, but if Kasper could ride in the dark she was determined to do so as well. She fed Tut before letting him out and took her wool peacoat from the end of staircase and headed outside. It was probably her last coat that didn’t smell like Tut or the horses, but there didn’t seem to be any sense in going back to switch it just to get Tut all worked up.

Instead she trekked through the snow, both glad and annoyed to see most of it turned to mud rather than ice. With any luck, the winter would continue to have a minimal amount of snow, making sure that she and Kasper could visit each other on the weekends regularly. Wedging open the stable doors, Emilia shivered at the memory of President’s Day weekend the year before when a massive blizzard and bad timing kept them apart.

Shaking off the thought, Emilia stomped off her boots and turned on the lights. It took a moment, but Nefertiti snorted in response to her gentle greeting and the promise of sugar cubes.

“Hi to you too, girl.”

The horse leaned her muzzle into Emilia’s hand gratefully. In return, Emilia gently scratched behind Nefertiti’s ears, taking in the attendance of all the horses. If all her hooved friends where there, then where was Kasper?

***

He walked right up until sunset, ignoring the cold in his joints and the dampness in his boots. It energized him more than he had hoped, even though his fingers and toes tingled with numbness.

Originally, Kasper had merely circled the manor, trying to figure out what bedroom Emilia had secluded herself in and trying to picture her in there. When that became too painful he moved on, counting the lights on the wreaths as they came to life in the dark. If someone had told him four years that he would have wreaths and Christmas trees and the like he would have accused them of insanity—then again, if they also said that he would have a beautiful, young wife who loved him he would have said the same thing.

Naturally, Kasper knew it was asinine to argue about something like a New Year’s Eve celebration, especially when they hadn’t yet agreed upon what they would do about her schooling situation. Certainly, Kasper had considered simply joining her for her final semester. After taking a two month absence for his wedding and honeymoon it would be some time before he could—or at least should—take time off like that again.

He already knew Emilia was going to complete the remainder of her clinical, with or without him. Still, he considered, maybe if he could find a bodyguard she liked, or obtain a dog that could protect her in
any
situation, it would be less stressful for him. It was a frightening situation to think of Emilia with a firearm, and entirely too late to enroll her in self-defense courses, though even if she had some kind of black-belt, Kasper doubted it would make him feel any better.

Sighing, he sat on one of the stone benches submerged in the wooded concave of the property. Once sure none of his employees were around, Kasper removed his gloves and clenched his hands. Despite what the doctors had told him, and the before and after pictures, Kasper was pleasantly surprised by the results of his two surgeries, and was bold enough to imagine what he would look like if he had gone through with the remaining ones.

He moved his fingers until there was steady feeling in them again, still unaccustomed to the lack of cartilage between his smallest finger and ring finger. With the swelling down, his hand was already starting to retain a slightly more normal appearance.

His face, of course, was still hideous. Regardless, there could be no denying that there was some improvement just from his new nose. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Kasper greedy for more. And if it were not for Emilia and his preemptive condition that would keep any respectable doctor away from him, Kasper would be in line for more.

He had already considered that he could probably pay someone off. Kasper was hardly an expert in the medical field, but he was sure that given how much Emilia’s schooling was costing, the intense debt a young plastic surgeon could accumulate would make them willing. Not to mention how malpractice lawsuits could bankrupt even experienced surgeons. How much would Kasper have to pay for one or two of them to finish fixing his face? Would he even dare to trust any of them with his hands? Being ugly was one thing, yet it was entirely another to lose fingers or feeling in his hands—to be unable to play an instrument with the same quality or feel his bride’s flesh with true appreciation.

No, Kasper decided. His hands were not worth the risk.

At least one other surgery would need to be performed to complete his cheekbone—probably two if he was honest with himself. The repair of his ear was slightly more difficult, especially considering it was usually done within the early years of the defect. The reconstruction of his new ear would let him live without the prosthetic, and the mere thought of that alone was enough to excite him. Despite this, the work on his jaw had not even begun, and without aesthetics the oral surgeon would not consider dental implants for him…

Overall it was his timing that had been at the heart of his burden. If technology had been at its peak five years ago when he was slightly younger and had nothing to lose he would not have hesitated. Yet now he did have something to lose, something far more important than he ever could have hoped for. And even if he put his medical needs until after she had begun her career, Kasper knew his selfishness would not be forgiven if he did not survive.

Kasper was also concerned about what Emilia would want to do after graduating. Adding that to all of this baby nonsense only gave him a throbbing headache. He could not help but wonder if he were not a genetic half of himself if she would insist on having a child of his. Kasper gagged at the mere thought before resigning himself to better thoughts. It had taken him a long time to accept his love for Emilia Ward, and if he could learn to tolerate a mangy mutt for her sake, continue to spend the remainder of his life in his body, then perhaps he could also learn to deal with a sticky-fingered little brat as well.

Especially if it would make her happy.

Vaguely, Kasper wished there were some flowers available in the garden so he could bring them inside. Flowers were an acceptable form of apology, weren’t they? When he dismissed the thought, it also occurred to him that the poinsettias and wreaths she insisted on having would probably be in decay soon enough, and with the already falling pine needles of that silly tree, there was more than enough for the compost pile.

Still, he had to admit, he enjoyed his first Christmas, and he was inclined to think of the holidays and events that would come in the future. He smiled to himself, feeling more eager to apologize than ever when he could see smell the smoke. He cursed outright and quickened his pace. Despite her many talents, Emilia had never been particular good at cooking, as he came closer it occurred to him that such an intense scent couldn’t be coming from the kitchen alone. Was she upset enough to bury herself in an extreme cleaning project like the fireplace?

Unfortunately, that thought was obliterated by the sight of an inferno—a mirage he hoped was the result antibiotics and fruitcake. As if on a pogo-stick, his heart began violently thumping in his chest. Time seemed to slow down as he ran to the front of the manor, shouting inconsequential nonsense. And no matter how quickly he told his feet to move, it seemed like a small eternity until he reached the front yard to see the flames erupting from the foyer.

Of course he continued to run the rest of the way to the door, calling out her name while his mind only briefly registered that Mrs. Levkin was no longer there, but Emilia’s car was. Still, instinctively he paused on his run to the house to search in her car, peering into the windows and loudly pounding his fist on the hood until the fear reminded him she was not there. Perhaps she was with Mrs. Levkin? Or had taken the dog out somewhere? Maybe, just maybe, he hoped, she had taken one his cars to her friend’s house—his mind dismissing the thought when he remembered how she disliked driving stick shift.