Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 32

C h apte r 32

Morning A fter Blues

Morning, Saturday, Febr uary 21 st in Margot’s Bus at the EcoDome in A kkoy, Genc

W hen Margot woke, the sunlight was streaming into her bus, and she was cuddled in the arms of a strong, warm embrace. For a split second, she wondered if she had lost a day, that yesterday had been a dream, and she was just waking up from her night together with Ash, but then she opened her eyes and glanced down at the arm around her waist, a perfectly pale arm without any tattoos. Disappointment and gratitude welled up in equal measure.

She rolled her shoulders, taking stock of her body. Considering she had been cut open the day before, she felt fine, though her hand was sore. Recalling the wound, she glanced down, seeing that the arm around her waist had pushed her nightshirt up during the night and rested above a red line wrapping across her hip bone—all that remained of h er injury.

That’s pretty handy, she thought, remembering how easily he had healed Ash, if not completely. I wonder if I’ll be able to do that someday.

“You are thinking very hard for someone who just woke up,” Tobin muttered, his breath ruffling the back of her head, and she looked over her shoulde r at him.

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” she asked. “I didn’t say anything, and you can’t see my face.” Please don’t tell me you can read minds, she thought desperately. That would be so emba rrassing.

“Your entire body tensed up,” he told her, squeezing her tighter for a second before relaxing his arm. “And your entire aura shifted. Whatever you are thinking about, you’re not sure if it’s a good thing or a b ad thing.”

“What about my aura?” she probed. “You some kind o f hippie?”

“Hippies may have taken a lot of drugs, Margot,” Tobin said, “but that doesn’t mean they were wrong. Auras are qu ite real.”

“Is that a fae thing?” she asked. “Another one of your a bilities?”

“Something like that,” he said, hand tracing the air above her hip, fingers outlining something she cou ldn’t see.

“What do they look like? Colors a nd stuff?”

He shrugged, the motion pressing his body against hers, and she became very aware of morning stiffness against her back. “Some of them.” He snuggled his face deeper into her neck, and his hand rested on her skin. “Some are just a suggestion of an emotion. Everyone is slightly different, a code you have to learn.”

“How do you understand my code so quickly, then?” she asked, moving her legs and maybe accidentally on purpose rubbing aga inst him.

“How do you understand mine?” he asked, the arm around her waist moving so he pulled her snug against him, palm flat against her hip. “I thought this was a friendly encounter , Margot.”

“It was,” she insisted, not moving but not trying to get away from him either, conflicted but also perfectly content to stay right where she was. Margot rarely denied the pull of her body—she may show restraint in other aspects of her life, but she wasn’t shy . “It is.”

“Okay,” he said, hand sliding away from her. “But I’m not apologizing for morning wood. That’s to be expected, even when I’m not in bed with a beautif ul woman.”

Margot snorted, missing his touch but not willing to pursue him. “You’re su ch a guy.”

“You would prefer I was otherwise?” Tobin asked. “I didn’t know that about you , Margot.”

Margot glanced up at him. “Nah,” she said, “though sometimes I think it would be easier. Men can be d ifficult.”

“And you assume women are different?” he asked. “Shows how many relationships you ’ve had.”

“Nailed it,” she admitted, turning so their facing bodies were inches apart on the bed. “I’ve had exactly zero relat ionships.”

Tobin frowned. “Surely…”

“I mean, I’ve been with people, sure. But nothing serious. Nothing long term.” She sniffed in disgust, realizing how pathetic she sounded. “I’m on the road with the guys so often, it would be hard to maintain anything unless a partner came with us.”

Tobin smiled. “I’ve seen your crew. No doubt one of them would make an ideal partner for the road.”

Margot scoffed. “No, thank you,” she said. “Learned that lesson a long time ago.”

“Margot!” Tobin said, feigning a scandalized tone. “How could you? And with the help!”

“He wasn’t the help back then—and they aren’t the help—” She smacked him. “They’re the crew—but it was just for fun. We’re still friends.”

Tobin pursed his lips. “Let me guess. It wouldn’t be the mustached fellow—Travis, is it? He’s a bit too old for a youthful tryst. And John is a bit too serious for such frolicking…” he mused. Margot wondered how he already knew the crew but decided n ot to ask.

“Why does it matter?” Margot asked instead. “Ash asked the sa me thing!”

“Did he figure out your former lover?” Tobin pressed. “Did you tell him, so now he can give those daggers at the one who presumed to have you before him?” At Margot’s look, he added, “You know he’s jealous of anyone you touch. Did he figure out his nex t target?”

Margot smacked his chest again, not liking the direction of this conversation. “He did not,” she said primly. “A lady does not kiss and tell.”

“Of course,” he agreed but gave her a pointed look, “and gentlemen do not share details of exploits, either.” Margot bit her lip at the hunger in that look, the desire clear on his hands ome face.

But Ash…

Ash is about to go back to rock star life with his groupies and his fan club. He told you it wasn’t going to mean anything. And even if he wanted to try, what would be the point? He would never truly be with you. He can’t choose you over his oath or hi s family.

But Tobin wants you. No games. No obstacles. He’s here with you—choo sing you.

Margot closed her eyes, not wanting to fall into his gaze. It would easy, she knew, to give in to the demands of her body and have sex with Tobin. He was here. He was willing. But she knew next to nothing about him. And while he may be here and willing, it had only been a few days since they met, and Margot wasn’t willing to trust him, not completely. Not when she knew she was still vulnerable and hurt over Ash.

Besides, if Ash—and Tobin himself—were to be believed, Tobin was Claimed by Lord Rebinus, making anything he did a likely result of his master’s bidding. And Rebinus would want to Claim her.

“Tobin,” she said, keeping her eyes closed so she couldn’t see his face and lose her nerve, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea. I just—didn’t want to be alone.”

“You aren’t giving the wrong impression, darling,” Tobin assured her. “You’re confused and hurt and still in your feelings. I get it.”

Margot was relieved to hear the lightness of his tone. He wasn’t angry with her. Of course he understood. A warm hand caressed her cheek, then let go, a bri ef touch.

“I can wait. I told you, Margot: I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t you have a job? Or a home?” Margot asked, opening her eyes to peer at this stranger in her bed. She recalled his white diplomat ID from last night. “And how the hell do you have a white card?” She lifted up on her elbow, watching him for any signs of lies.

“I am a vassal,” Tobin explained. “That’ s my job.”

“So you just wander around Ardon doing stuff for Lord Reginard?”

“Rebinus.”

“Yeah, him.” She narrowed her gaze. “What do you do , though?”

“Mostly?” Tobin shrugged. “Nothing. My lord is specific in his directives, but vague in the details, so I get a lot of time fo r myself.”

“Why were you i n Kerva?”

“I was debating if I wanted to scout the south, to find out more details for my Lord. But then I was dis tracted.”

“Did you know we would be in the bar that night? Is Ash right a bout you?”

“Ash thinks everyone is out to get him,” Tobin said dismissively, rolling onto his back.

“Aren’t they?” She tugged the blanket up to cover her waist, suddenly cool without the heat of his body be hind her.

“Not everything is about Ash,” Tobin groaned. “I know he’s the hero around here, but I went to that bar because I wanted a drink. And then I saw a beautiful woman alone, and I decided to take a chance.”

“But why?”

He reached out to push her hair behind her ear, his touch raising little whorls of goosebumps along her arms. “Because you had such sad eyes, Margot. Too sad to be drinking alone in the middle of the week.”

“You didn’t know who I was?” she prompted. “Please tell me t he truth.”

“I didn’t know who you were,” he told her.

“ And Ash?”

He paused, clearly thinking about what to tell her.

She nodded, tingles in her skin fading as her heart sank. “You knew who he was. Of course you did. So what is this? Some elaborate plan for your Lord to out Ash so he can get Claimed l ike you?”

Tobin withdrew as if she had struck him, hurt flaring in his eyes. Margot was instantly sorry as he rolled over her and slipped out of bed. He stood on the floor, his back to her, that white hair still mussed from sleep. She could see the tiny hairs on his back lit up by the late morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Is that what you think of me, Margot?” he asked, his voice quiet and sad. “I am my master’s creature, incapable of action without some deep convoluted plan?” He chuckled, the sound empty of joy. “I suppose you’re right, in a way.” He bent down, locating his pants and slipping them on.

Margot shifted on the bed, guilt ripping through her, and she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. He paused, then sank back against the edge of the bed. Margot wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, lips giving him soft kisses on the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have s aid that.”

He turned slowly in the circle of her embrace, bending his face low to look at her, all good humor gone. “Do you really think that low of me , Margot?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I think, to be honest, but I don’t think you’re here to hurt me.” She bit her lip, frowning. “But I don’t know anything about you, Tobin. Nothing except what Ash said.”

He snorted. “So you talked about me, then? I didn’t think my brother would waste time like that—not when he finally got y ou alone.”

It was Margot’s turn to snort, and she pulled back, very aware of how close he was to her again. “Ash could have gotten me alone at any time,” she said, flopping on her back. “I’m pretty sure he only got with me becaus e of you.”

“You think your fiery prince is jealous?” Tobin prompted, propping his head on the edge of the bed and watc hing her.

Margot put a hand over her face, scrubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. “No,” she said finally. “Not really. I know I’m not the one for him.”

“Is he the one for you?” Tobin asked the question bluntly.

“I thought so,” she admitted.

“Past tense?” Tobin arched an eyebrow. “Curiouser and curiouser , Margot.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m a mess. You should seriously think about whether you really want to help m e at all.”

Tobin reached out, a hand on her knee, reassuring. “I told you I’m here, Margot. Whatever you need. A friend. A teacher.” He wiggled an eyebrow. “A good time. Something more. You think about it.” He glanced down and to his right, scanning her little kitchen. “I assume I use the kettle to boil water, right?” He tapped her thigh. “You don’t strike me as a tea woman. I’ll make coffee.” He moved away, opening doors and drawers, familiarizing himself with her kitchen layout. Margot rested her head on her arms, watching him, very aware of the differences between the pale angel in her kitchen this morning and the dark one who had made her coffee the previous sunrise.

Light and dark, she thought. I wonder what their father looks like. Tobin, probably, she decided, recalling his comment about how Ash had the look of his mother. Such very different men but also similar in some ways. Both were courteous, at times, and silly at others. Both made her blood run hot when they looked at her a cer tain way.

Damn , she thought, feeling the pull of her bladder but not wanting to abandon the bed. He looks really good in my kitchen too. And we fit in my bed a hell of a lo t better.

Though I would fit fine in Ash’s bed… Her cheeks flushed as she imagined sleeping with Ash in his bunk, Timothy and Nik moving around beyond the curtain as he touched her at night.

Nope , she decided. I am not doing th at. Ever.

Coffee with Tobin in her own bus sounded a lot more a ppealing.