Read The Artisans Online

Authors: Julie Reece

Tags: #social issues, #urban fantasy, #young adult, #contemporary fantasy, #adaptation, #Fantasy, #family, #teen

The Artisans (26 page)

He nods, unable to hide his smile. “Thanks for visiting. Again. I really deserve some sort of sainthood for this. Is there a Nobel prize given for restraint?”

Heat scalds my face as I glance down. I’m wearing a black lace top and gray flannel shorts. Could be worse I guess, but part of me wants to curl up and die. Suicide seems a perfectly viable option, considering I woke up in Gideon’s
bed!
When I glance up, he’s still, openly staring. “What?”

“It’s unfair to the rest of the women at large for anyone to be so gorgeous first thing in the morning.”

I keep my focus riveted on Edgar. “Thanks.” His deep laugh sets off another blush, which I ignore as I kiss my cat’s head. “And I’m sorry about the night visiting thing. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he snaps. Confused, I raise my eyes in time to see his expression soften. “People sleepwalk, Raven. If you need to go somewhere, I’m glad you feel you can come to me, even subconsciously.”

Mid-sentence, his tone turns tender, and has a blitzkrieg effect on my senses. I blurt out the first thing I think to change the subject. “Why are you here?”

He crosses the room and takes a seat on the end of the bed. “See, now that hurts.” He holds up two fingers. “First, though I enjoying seeing you in those pajamas, it’s my room you keep invading.” He folds one finger down. “Second, you’ve already forgotten we were supposed to have a very special outing today, to one of my most favorite haunts.”

“Please don’t say haunt.”

Another laugh. “Get up, girl. Eat the delicious breakfast Jenny made, or you’ll crush her Irish pride. Then get dressed. I have to leave tomorrow morning for New York. I tried to move the meeting, but it’s damned impossible. That gives us today.” His brows wing up. “Well? You’re not moving. Hurry up. We leave in an hour.”

“Bossy.”

“Stubborn.” He takes a piece of bacon off the plate sitting on his end table and bites the end off with a growl.

“Fine.” I don’t feel like going, but it’s not worth arguing over. I don’t have the heart. “You win again.”

He grins like a fiend.

 

 

***

 

 

I unclench my jaw and slide off the back of Gideon’s four-wheeler. With a gentle tug, I ease my fingerless gloves off my hands. The bruised knuckles on my left hand throb as I press my fingers to my face. The skin is ice cold. My lips tingle from racing through the cool, crisp air. I’m not sure all-terrain vehicles are my cup of tea, but there you are.

The spot he’s taken me to borders the edge of his property. A small meadow nestled alongside the Coosaw River. The water is a wide, silver snake meandering through mossy green countryside and the canopy of oaks is a slightly darker hue. The sky is brilliant, as bright as Gideon’s blue eye.

He stands with his hands on his hips, taking in the view of the river. When he twists toward me, he points to our vehicle. “Will you grab those blankets?”

I release the Velcro straps securing dual rolls of plaid fabric and toss one to Gideon. He smiles. “What, no sharing?”

Ignoring his question, I walk right past him. Choosing a level spot by the river, I spread my pallet on the ground and relax. A chilly breeze tosses my hair across my face. The air smells fresh and clean with a hint of salt. Nearby, a heron stabs at a fish with his sharp bill. “It’s like a painting out here.”

Gideon follows me to the water’s edge. His chest rises with his inhalation. “My mother and I used to come here when I was little. Jamis would haul my wheelchair outside. Jenny would make us a picnic lunch, and we’d stay for hours in the spring and late summer.” His brow creases. “Before the fall winds came. I was sick a lot in the winter months.
Always
on holidays.”

“Well, I can see why she brought you,” I say, with an attempt to distract him from bad memories. “It’s a stunning view.”

His blanket hits the grass and he drops down next to me. His curls stir in the wind, gleam in the sunlight. The skin on his face is smooth and golden, until it meets the slightly darker shadow of his jaw line. “I wanted to show you this spot. I thought it might inspire something in you, the way it does me.”

Of course. He brought me here for designing ideas, so I would make more clothing for him. I nod, strangely let down. When I face him, his expression remains an unreadable mask. I wonder what he was inspired to do. “Gideon?” It may not be the right time, but I have to ask.

“Hmm.”

“Why didn’t you go to college? Don’t you want to be a lawyer?”

He shrugs. “After my father’s death, I worked harder than ever to attain his goals for my life.” His eyes narrow on the gentle current of the river. “I graduated high school at sixteen, took a few college classes online. My father’s V.P. tutored me in business, board meetings, supervised projects, travel. Law is expected, what my father would have wanted, but I stalled on attending a university.”

“Why, what do you want to do?”

He’s quiet a moment, as if he’s weighing his words. “You were right, about me, Raven. I was changing, but I didn’t know why myself. I’ve been restless, confused. As an Artisan, and Maddox heir, I’m responsible for a tradition of acts committed long before my time. I’m a … keeper of those deeds.”

This house has more secrets than Hogwarts. Gideon is trying to tell me something while doing his darndest not to tell me. It reminds me of Cole, and my patience crumbles. “You can be whatever you want to be. In New York, you said when you want something you just take it. Where is that guy?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”

I stand, brushing away the grass stuck to my jeans. “Ugh. Explain it! People make me insane. Ben drinks because my mother is dead. Dane wants Maggie, but he won’t take her because he thinks he’s not good enough, and—”

“Dane wants Maggie?”

I feel the scowl creasing my forehead. “Yeah, what? You didn’t know that?”

“I thought he … never mind.”

“Fine.” I stare at the riverbank. “All I’ve ever wanted was …” I can’t finish. With Ben ill, what I wanted doesn’t matter now. “Dane could go for what he wants and won’t, and you … you will become a lawyer because your father wanted a son to take his place. Grow a pair, people!”

“Raven.” He rises. There’s a warning in his tone that I don’t heed.

“No. No! There’s something strange, cursed about your house. I can feel it in my bones. Don’t let it have you, Gideon.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Pain? Worry? When I look again, it’s gone. I must have imagined it.

I throw a blade of grass to the ground. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Ben is dying. My prospects are pretty grim. I’m not feeling sorry for myself.” Okay, maybe a little, yes I am. “It’s just
you
… it drives me crazy because you have all the freedom in the world. Every advantage to follow your dreams, and I’m so jealous. You are rich, smart. Capable of amazing things, and at times, you’ve been so nice to me …” I throw my hands up. “All I’m saying is that you have the potential to do good instead of hurt people. It’s up to you to decide what you want.”

His eyes narrow dangerously. “You’re right.” Four determined steps closes the distance between us. His hand wraps my neck, gentle force behind his grip. I take a shallow breath as his eyes blaze a trail to my soul. With the softest touch imaginable, his fingers brush my skin. His nostrils flare, his jaw sets like concrete.

“What is it?” I whisper, both terrified and curious over the conflicting emotions evident in his shining eyes.

“You’ve ruined me, Raven. Broken me down, and destroyed whatever I was. Whoever I might have been.” His hand stays at my throat. With the other, he runs his three middle fingers over my trembling lips. My heart beats erratically.

I take step back. I can’t control my breathing and my legs have gone to sleep. I’m pretty sure I know where this discussion is leading, but I can’t go forward until he answers one question. The one that’s tortured me for days on end. “What about your … that girl?”

“Who?”

“The girl. The model in New York. I saw you together in the hallway of our hotel.”

“You saw that?” His head falls back, and he laughs without humor. “And how long did you watch us, sweet Raven? Not long enough, I think.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Hmm, no, you don’t. She came to my room, and I sent her away.”

“You did? But …”

Taking a step back, he pulls the gold coin from his pocket and rolls it back and forth between his fingers at a dizzying speed. “Did you know crows collect reflective objects?”

What a what?
Okay, that’s so not where I thought this was heading. I ease to the ground to keep from embarrassing myself with a fall. “No, I didn’t.”

Gideon’s pacing makes my head ache. “Tinfoil, beads, coins, the male collects anything shiny to decorate his nest.” He stops and faces me. “That’s the way I felt about you. I wanted to own you, like a shiny, new toy. Don’t deny the connection between us the first time we met.”

I didn’t.

“And then. When you marched into the library, so angry, so passionate—”

“You wanted to kill me?”

“No. I wanted to possess you.”

The moths in my stomach take flight. I swallow as he kneels in front of me,
almost
on top of me. I count the stitching where his golden skin meets the fabric at his chest. I want to touch him, and hit him, and scream all at once. Then he’s lifting my hips, tugging me forward until his knees bump mine. “Gideon.” I’m powerless against him, and I know he knows it.

“Let me get this out.”

I nod, wanting to both know the truth and run the opposite direction as fast as I can.

“When you came here, in defense of Ben, I’d never seen such loyalty. You challenged me, insulted the name of Maddox. No one does that.
No one.
” His fingers thread my hair. “That took a great deal of courage, but you didn’t stop there, did you?” The words come out like a curse. “No. You sacrificed yourself, gave yourself up for him, a drunk who had hurt you in every conceivable way. I was enthralled, captivated by the idea of a girl who could do something so … unselfish for someone that undeserving. I wanted you, in every way a man might want to possess a woman, but how to hold you?” A frown pulls at his lips. “So, I came up with the idea of using your abilities as seamstress as a ruse to keep you here, with me. It was lust and envy, greed and jealousy—all acts of my dominance and will. At first.”

“Oh, Gideon.” A tear escapes, dropping from my lashes. He curses under his breath. When I shift, he grabs my wrist like a drowning man. I glance down, and as if he fears he’ll hurt me, he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go.

He lifts my hand to his mouth and speaks against the skin. “Hear me to the end? You promised … No that’s wrong isn’t it?” He tries for a smile and botches it. “Will you please hear me to the end?

His earnestness slices deeper into my already aching soul. “Yes,” I answer simply, needing to hear his words as much as he wants to say them.

“Days went by, weeks. Watching you was torture. As an Artisan, I’m taught to make hard decisions and distance myself from the fallout, but you … you were never about justice. You were sent to punish me, I think.” He runs his thumb from the pulse at my throat to my chest and presses his hand against my heartbeat. “The more I watched you, the more my fascination turned to concern, my attitude transformed from master to servant. You make me want to be better.

“I’m sorry, Raven. No. That’s not true. I can’t honestly say I’m sorry I took you. Not yet, but I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. The worry Ben felt. I need to be honest if there is any hope of having a relationship with you. In New York, the girl at my door … I turned her down because by that point, I already belonged to someone else.”

Tears flowing freely now, I sniff and wipe my nose on my sleeve.

“Stop it,” Gideon orders, tone teasing. “That’s just not sexy.” But his eyes glitter, and he’s smiling.

I shrug and sniff again. “Your fault. And who says we’re in a relationship? When did that happen?”

“Raven, you and I have been in a relationship from the minute we spoke. I’m just not sure how to define it.”

Neither am I. I’m not sure what he’s asking for. I don’t know what I can give. What’s real? What’s safe? It’s all happening too fast and I don’t know how to slow it down. “I guess there’s a lot to sort out.”

“Hmm, true. I expected you might say that, but while you’re sorting it out …”

He leans forward. I lean away. When he edges further toward me, I see the pattern, but it’s too late. I fall on my back in the tall grass, and he’s hovering above me.

“There’s something else I want you to think about.”

The muscles in my stomach tighten as he lowers his head, his lips capturing mine. One hand travels up my thigh. The other is lost in my hair, kneading the roots at my nape. I feel his heart pound out a rhythm against my chest and mine races to catch up. He nips at my jaw. Tongue teases my mouth, demanding entry. My lips part under increasing pressure, and we explore each other, tasting, caressing. Mind blown, colors explode behind my eyelids as he kisses me breathless. My hands slide up his shoulders to lose themselves in his glorious curls. I squeeze handfuls between my fists, push against him. He moans, sending chills through me.

“You’ll kill me, I swear it,” he growls in my ear. “I’ve wanted,
needed
this for so long.”

“How long?” I pant.

His breath tickles my neck. “Forever?” He moves to my mouth and speaks against my lips. “The whole time you stood in my library yelling your head off, I wanted you.” Gently, he bites at my lower lip with his teeth. My eyes roll back as he leaves a trail of burning kisses along my cheek to my ear. “And last night, while I watched you sleep for hours in my bed, then too. And now.”

My heart squeezes at the vulnerability in his admission. He kisses me long and hard until I’m dizzy, and boneless. When he finally lets me breathe I whisper, “We should talk.”

“We should,” he says, and then bites my earlobe.

I shake my head. Pushing on his chest is like pushing a semi. “Gideon. Stop.”

Other books

Trail of Feathers by Tahir Shah
Bone Harvest by Mary Logue
Family Jewels by Stuart Woods
The Captive Flesh by Cleo Cordell
Private Practices by Linda Wolfe
The Counterfeit Madam by Pat McIntosh


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024