The Matchmaker's Mark (31 page)

"Are you coming in or what?"

Well, standing around acting like a forlorn idiot probably wasn't the best approach. "Yeah." He walked in as she stepped back from the open door. "Caught me thinking."

"About?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite willing to meet her always-open gaze when he didn't know where to start. "You. Us. The match."

She closed the door, leaned against it. Her closed eyes warned him he'd said the wrong thing again.

"Lily – "

She sighed. "I don't want a babysitter."

"That's what you think?"

"That's what this arrangement is. The royal house doesn't trust me. I heard the rumors."

"Those are just myths meant to scare – "

"Elf boys away from human girls. I know, Dare. I know exactly how it didn't keep my father away from my mom."

She pushed by him, headed to the stairs, then changed her mind and moved toward her storage shelves.

He let her shuffle things around in there for a few minutes while he wrestled with his options. Finally, he came up behind her while her hands were full of baskets. Laying his hands on her shoulders, gently, he gave her the chance to move away.

She held still under his touch, swayed closer to him after a moment.

He lowered his lips to the soft skin behind her ear. "Let's go out. You can show me around town."

She shivered and he barely smothered a triumphant shout. "That didn't work so well last time."

"Around town. The human side. You've been here long enough to know the stories, the legends. I've been on the road long enough to be eager for a little vacation-type entertainment. Show me what you love about Charleston. Show me why you planted yourself here."

She pushed the baskets into a space on the shelf and turned to face him. Their lips were only a breath apart. He waited, hoping, letting her decide.

"Okay. We'll go out." She trailed her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, down to join his, igniting fires the whole way. "But this doesn't mean anything."

He nodded, having lost the power of speech. He thought it meant a great deal to her as she examined him for the matchmaker's mark and found him lacking.

It didn't matter. He wouldn't let it matter. This was a starting point and he intended to use it to full advantage.

For both of them.

After she'd changed clothes and checked messages on the shop's phone line, they were on their way.

"Let's go this way first." She turned away from the Battery and walked past doorways and shops explaining about urban renewal.

He listened, soaking up as much as he could about the place that would be his home. Crossing the street, heading back toward the water, the storefronts and restaurants turned from average to posh.

"Your shop seems right in the middle," he observed. Even her window displays, on either side of the door, gave a nod to the difference in clientele.

She beamed up at him. "It's a good location and a fun place to be. People would assume the different sized advertising budgets mean merchants on King don't get along, but we have a longstanding mutual agreement about tourism."

He'd never seen her quite so mercenary. It was adorable. "So this time of year must be rough?"

"Oh, it's slower. But with the cruise ships, the occasional conference and people looking for a warm weekend, we make it."

Through her descriptions he could see it in warmer weather, with shop doors open, flowers and trees in bloom and people crowding the slate sidewalks and choking the flow of traffic as they meandered from shop to restaurant on both sides of the street.

"Visitor's center is over there," she pointed. "Just a block off. And this place," she pointed across the street, "is the best place for a sweet tooth."

He looked at the bakery sign, savored the scent of vanilla and fresh cake.

"Red velvet?"

"Every day of the week," she answered with a laugh. "You're more in tune with this world than I expected."

Keeping it light, his wriggled his eyebrows and guided her on toward the Battery.

"Why won't you tell me more about yourself?" She stopped short and held up a hand. "And don't give me that male nonsense about security. I have brothers," she offered by way of explanation. "I am not some fragile, dimwitted – "

"Shh." He used her elbow to guide her along. "You're also not one to make a scene." That silenced her. "I'd be happy to tell you whatever you want to know," he said as they crossed a cobbled street.

"Favorite beer?"

"Corona with lime is refreshing on a hot day in Mexico. No, beer doesn't bother me, but I'm as careful with alcohol as most of our kind." He wanted to explain he didn't feel like elf or human, just more like himself when he was with her. The confession would likely scare her away if he blurted it out too soon. "As for what took me to Mexico on that hot day…I can only say I was with Camille."

"Ah." She nudged him around a corner and he went. If she knew how eager he was to get to the Battery, she'd only drag her feet.

"Did you love her?"

"Camille?"

Lily nodded.

"Of course. As a mentor, as family, but not romantically. At least not for long."

"What?" Intrigued, her eyes sparkled as they locked with his. "Spill it."

Here was the line he thought he could use to guide her right where he wanted her. "If you promise to share your first crush later."

"Deal."

So he told her about his crush on Camille, though it was technically his second crush as Lily was his first and his forever. "I imagine it happens to a matchmaker all the time. Talk of love and soul mates puts it into your head and you're with that person almost exclusively. Camille was lovely, inside and out. A little crazy, but in the fun way, not the white coat and sedatives way."

"Got it."

He was pleased to see her smiling as they approached the market. "Promise not to laugh?"

"Sure."

"I don't believe you." His heart skipped a beat when she clasped his hand. "But I'll tell you anyway." He gave her fingers a squeeze. "I'd been with her a little over three months and we were in hiding. The need to hide happened often enough the details are blurry, but it was me and her and a recent match had gone awry because of 'true love'."

"You don't believe in true love?"

Her voice was so small, so quiet, he almost missed it. "Of course I do." Pulling himself out of the trouble in her eyes, he went on. "That's the point. For all her efforts, true love can, and should, trump an arrangement.

"Anyway. I was such an idiot and I thought I was head over heels for her."

"Did you make a move on her?"

Her eyes wide, Lily looked as horrified as he'd felt all those years ago. "Not quite. But it was a close thing. I confessed how I felt. Told her about the future I thought we could have."

"Was it glorious?"

"Naturally. A perfect happily ever after sort of thing."

"Naturally," Lily agreed with such a girly sigh he chuckled.

"Hey, cut me some slack. That was her business you know. The happily ever after no matter how the couple got to that point."

"Did she let you down easy?"

"No. Not so much." Lily stopped again, concern flooding her blue eyes. "Oh, she wasn't mean, but she explained feelings, isolation, the job, the restrictions. It was the best sort of enlightening therapy."

Lily laughed, just as he'd hoped and they moved along between tables of wares and sales people determined to wring a few dollars out of the scant tourists.

They popped out into the street between awnings and he looked to a building of shops anchored by an ice cream and candy store. Lily shook her head. "Too cold for ice cream. Let's keep moving."

To his relief she kept them moving toward the water, turning down East Bay Street and regaling him with tales of history and architecture.

They strolled by an iron gate, the garden enclosed further shielded by tall shrubs. He stopped when he understood what he was looking at. "Is that a swimming pool slide?"

"No. It's a duck pond."

"Right."

"According to the historical preservation committee and architectural review board, pools aren't allowed." She winked. "So that's a duck pond."

"Got it."

"It's a city with its eclectic moments."

"And unique people."

"True."

He wished they were still holding hands, wished he could pull her closer and kiss her right here on the street. A carriage tour rumbled by, the guide talking about the next house and its nod to columns of every design.

"So how did you learn all this?" He let her lead, following her across the street and up onto the sea wall. He waited as the wind whipped bits of white from the water and tugged wisps of her hair from her ponytail.

He wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear, the urge to kiss her turning into a raging need, so he braced his arms on the wall and watched a tour boat move sedately across the chop toward Ft. Sumter.

"See that little island out there?" She pointed to a lump of gray and green.

"Yes." He saw the island, but not the point.

"Only birds live out there, no one's even allowed to get within a few hundred yards of it, but I always dreamed of a place like that."

"A place alone and protected?"

"Yes, exactly."

He wondered if she was giving him the information intentionally and he hoped that sharing stories would bring them closer. "You'd get lonely."

"Lonely happens anywhere. It's not all bad."

He turned his back on the water to better study her face. If he leaned just a few inches he could nibble on her lips, trace the shell of her ear with his tongue. But sex hadn't convinced her of their suitability yet, so he stuck with his new tactic. He wanted to get her under those massive oaks and see how she felt about him then.

"So any other duck ponds around?"

She turned, looking a bit unnerved by his proximity. But when her eyes drifted to his lips, he knew his odds of success were increasing.

He let her ease away, though it took a great deal of control. "There have to be more odd and trivial stories around here," he prompted.

"Oh, of course." She walked a few paces and pointed across the harbor. "Living over there, looking at this point of land, the colonists referred to this as Oyster point or White Point Gardens, but everyone just calls it the Battery."

The great sea wall stretched in a semi circle, holding the sea back from the opulent architecture.

Dare found his interest torn between the female and the stories she told. In her words, it wasn't hard to see life as it might have been before settlements, treaties, pirates, soldiers, cars, and joggers.

"So did you learn all this in school?"

"No." She spared him a sparkling glance. "I dated a carriage tour guide."

Jealousy pricked at him. He didn't bother to hide it. She nudged him. "You had a life before me too."

He swallowed his nerves, but the hope inside him wanted to celebrate. "Should I infer there's only life with you in my future?"

They both winced at his formal tone. If only wishing would sweep the old training out of his new life.

"What I mean is – "

She smiled with an ease he didn't expect. "It's okay. I understand what you mean. And honestly, I wish it were possible."

He could work with honesty. "Didn't Amy tell you everything?"

Lily stopped again, perching herself on the back of a bench, gazing toward the line of mansions across the park. "She told me what I needed to know. That she'd been sent to affect a match for me."

"For us."

Lily shrugged. He was losing her. He'd defended his position with the facts, gotten permission and raced back to make arrangements. Why did she keep holding him at arm's length?

Frustrated, with her, with himself, he looked out over the water. He studied the horizon where the cloudless gray-blue sky met the steel gray water under a weak January sun. How to crack her defenses?

"This area has a tremendous strength and power. Do you ever come down here just to listen to the trees?"

"Sometimes."

"What stories have they told you?"

She laughed softly. "I should ask you what rumors they've been spreading."

"I heard about pirates." She nodded and he continued. "And a princess." At her arched brow he rushed on. "Conflict, weddings, commerce. They seem to prefer horses to cars and the off season is a welcome respite."

"Wow. Those oaks are sure chatty."

"They are," he agreed. He leaned closer, let his next words caress her ear. "They like you."

"Oh, stop." She playfully pushed him away and hopped down from her perch to cross the street toward the famous gazebo.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Since high school. The age and proximity of the Angel Oak appealed to my mom."