Let The Games Begin

Chapter 1: Part 2

"Did anybody see you leave?" Alistair asked me, cupping my face with calloused hands, his intensely blue eyes searching mine.

"No." I had made sure that no one would see me slip out of the house today. "Why won't you kiss me, you foolish man?"

Alistair's lips quirked into a smile, but he was being too slow, so I pulled him to me, letting out a sigh of pleasure when our lips finally met. This. This was what drove people half-senseless.

Touch.

Alistair was the first to pull away, his breathing just as ragged as mine was. He took my hand. "There's a beautiful lake near the palace. Have you been there?"

"Who hasn't?"

It turned out that I hadn't been there before. At least, not that I could remember. It was a sparkling blue expanse of water, and Alistair and I walked hand in hand, a cool breeze whipping our hair about.

He bent suddenly. "Found it!" he said excitedly, holding something up.

I squinted in the sunlight. "Found what?"

"A stone that would be perfect for your engagement ring," he said to me, looking down at me with hopeful eyes. "It's not a diamond, it's not a precious stone−but it's what I can give you. For now."

It was a tiny, white pebble, and when he placed it in my hand, it was smooth and cool to the touch. He closed my fingers around it.

"I can't offer you much," he said, stroking my cheek. "I can't offer you anything but my love, and you deserve more. You deserve everything, Helena, because you are my everything."

"Alistair," I whispered, looking down at the pebble, "this is more precious to me than any old diamond."

Again, he gave me one of his dizzying, languorous kisses that made time stop and take notice. After that, we walked around for hours, talking about a future that seemed possible now. Alistair was going to join the army, partly for the benefits, and partly because he'd always dreamed of making a difference this way.

"It's just a thought," he said to me, gauging my reaction. "I want to support you, Helly."

"Don't do it for me, Alistair. Do it because it's what you want."

He said he'd think about it.

It was dark by the time he managed to get me home, but I was too giddy to care that someone might have noticed my absence.

"Helena," my mother called the moment I stepped through the front door. She had the uncanny ability to sense my presence, no matter how light-footed I tried to be. "Helena, where are you?"

I took a deep breath. I could smell Alistair on me−that musky male scent with a hint of soap that was all him−and I could feel the tingles of his kisses on my skin.

My mother would only have to take one look at me to know what I'd been up to. She would only have to catch one whiff of me to know.

I took a deep breath before entering the large parlour that my family kept for entertaining guests. It was a gaudy, Victorian-styled room, furnished ostentatiously with gilded wooden furniture and ugly, expensive paintings. Above the fireplace hung a painting of my parents, dressed to the nines with smug expressions on their handsome faces.

"We've lost everything!" Mother was sobbing. Even with tears streaking down her face, ruining her makeup, she looked every bit the stunning, regal social butterfly that she was. She delicately dabbed a tissue beneath her eyeliner-rimmed eyes. "Everything!"