Thanks for bearing the long wait! I'm back from vacation, and finally have another chapter to post. Enjoy!

Wild Angels

By Amiboshi-chan

Chapter eight

"Mrs. O'Bannion, how long do you suppose it will be until Yui is up and around?" Miaka looked down the long dining table at her hostess. After Yui's collapse, Patricia had insisted Miaka come home with her to the spacious brownstone. Considering Tokaki's reaction to his daughter's condition, Miaka was grateful for the offer.

"Oh, dear, it is difficult to say." Patricia rubbed the furrow between her brows. "Donovan, will you speak to Tokaki tomorrow? Perhaps you can get some information about Yui's condition."

Donovan O'Bannion nodded at his wife. He had been silent and his face was drawn with what Miaka judged to be worry over his niece, but then perhaps he too held her responsible for Yui's illness.

Miaka nervously ran her finger over the edge of one delicate blue and white china plate. Everyone was so somber. It was nothing like her dinners at home in the territory.

She thought of all the hours she had practiced her table manners on a card table in Yui's room. Guilt and worry for her friend enveloped her. Miaka closed her eyes and prayed the Yui would recover. The doctor had assured them all that se was not in mortal danger, but Miaka could not forget the image of her friend's pale face. She opened her eyes, but kept them focused on her plate. If she dared look up, she would be forced to see Tasuki, who was positioned directly opposite her. She did not want to find disapproval in his eyes, as she had in Tokaki O'Bannion's.

She shifted uncomfortably on the soft padded chair, occupying herself by plucking at a row of tiny ribbons on the bottom of her burgundy sateen bodice.

"It troubles me to see you so worried, Miaka. Yui will recover." Patricia's voice drew her attention. The maid, Tilly, was serving fillets of whitefish covered in a thick cream sauce. "There is no need to be so concerned."

"I feel so responsible." Miaka worried her bottom lip with her front teeth, a habit that had annoyed Yui to no end.

"The physician said that it was nothing serious," Nakago interjected.

"Do you hear that Miaka?" Patricia continued. "You must try to put it out of your mind. If you don't eat, you will become ill yourself, and that will not do Yui any good."

"Yes ma'am, I'll try." Miaka watched Patricia lay her napkin in her lap. Mechanically she mimicked her graceful movements.

"Uncle Tokaki will call in a battery of specialists," Nakago stated solemnly. "Yui will have the very best of care. Our uncle is a bit overprotective, Miaka." He explained with a gentle smile. "but I'm sure she will have roses in her cheeks soon enough."

Tasuki tried not to notice the deep furrow between the dark wings of Miaka's brows. She was upset, but she would force herself to be strong, because she was the most stubborn Brooks of them all. He wished he could think of some way to make her feel better. But on the heels of that thought, he wondered why he yearned to comfort her.

He was being ridiculous. Still, a gnawing ache materialized every time he looked at her pinched face. How could Tokaki have been so insensitive as to imply that Miaka had in any way caused Yui's collapse? With Yui's medical history it was foolish to try and lay the blame at Miaka's feet. "Tokaki didn't mean what he said, Miaka." Tasuki heard himself say. "He was just worried about Yui and pick you as the easiest target for his anger."

Miaka looked up and swallowed hard. In her mind she knew that Tasuki was right, but in her heart a kernel of guilt remained. She ducked her head and went back to her silent prayers for Yui's quick recovery.

"Well, at least some wonderful new came at the party." Patricia reminded everyone in the silence. "Isn't it grand? Donovan and I are going to be grandparents." Miaka looked up, and she could swear that Donovan's chest puffed out a little.

"It is great news, but Clair's husband sure picked a helluva time to leave his wife." Tasuki said with a frown.

"It couldn't be helped." Donovan said, glaring at his plate. "O'Bannion Shipping is in the thick of a business merger with Ashland Lines. Rossmore was needed in Australia to oversee negotiations. The whole situation is very delicate- the slightest little thing could blow the whole deal."

"Are things really that serious?" Nakago asked. He had his own investments, separate from the family, and rarely got involved with the business.

"Serious is too mild a word," Patricia answered irritably. "Horace Ashland has been prickly about the whole thing."

"Now don't say anything against Horace," Donovan said defensively. "He is just being. . .well, cautious." Donovan's gaze locked with Tasuki's who realized immediately what he had meant. Violet was the apple of her fathers eye, and if Violet wasn't happy, Horace would make sure nobody else was either. And Horace had never heard the real version of what had happened.

Tasuki focused on his plate, but his appetite was gone. Violet Ashland was becoming a thorn in his side. He had thought he was free of her machinations when he left New York, but now it seemed she was binding him in a web once again, and dragging is newfound friends down with him.

"Let's not speak of things in the past. Clair is expecting a baby, and Yui will recover." Patricia picked up her wine glass by the stem. "I propose a toast. To the future!"

Everyone, including Miaka, followed her lead. "To the future," they said in unison. But while Tasuki swallowed a mouthful of wine, he asked himself if he was so sure of the future that he had planned. Miaka drank and looked at Tasuki from underneath her lashes. For a moment his expression softened, but then he frowned and looked back down at his glass.

He was dressed in a plain white shirt, without a tie. A dark russet coat hugged his shoulders. His red hair was swept back from his face, but a few wayward strands hung in his eyes. He looked as if he had dressed quickly, and somewhat carelessly. It gave him an air if ease. He looked more like her brothers did at dinner than she had expected him to look living his life as a New York gentleman.

While she studied him an almost overwhelming wave of homesickness folded over her. She drew in a deep breath and fought back the sting of tears. 'what is the matter with me?' she wondered. Abruptly Tasuki looked up, and their eyes locked in a compelling gaze. Her breath lodged in the back of her throat as his lips curved up slightly. Her face began to heat from the base of her neck to the roots of her hair.

The meal progressed from soup to dessert in silence. After coffee was poured, Nakago leaned back in his chair. "I suppose Yui will be in an invalid's chair again." He said softly, shaking his head sadly.

Miaka gasped, pulled from her own thoughts. "An invalid's chair? Is she so ill she needs an invalid's chair?" Her voice cracked. She inhaled deeply, determined to steady herself. "I can't imagine anything worse than having to be dependant- not being able to walk or do for yourself." A painful lump lodged in her throat. The image of being trapped in a body that would no longer do her bidding was more frightening than anything she could think of. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes.

"Rod, sometimes you are absolutely thick," Tasuki snapped. "You did nothing, Miaka. Yui is simply delicate. She will be alright."

Miaka managed to draw herself up and place both her palms on the table. She held her chin steady and blinked back the hot sting in her eyes. Suddenly Tasuki reached out. He laid his hand on top of hers. It was rough, heavy and warm. He stared at her, and the hold of his gaze was almost hypnotic. "And she would not be so frail if Leland would stop treating her like a hothouse flower." He said to everyone, but his eyes never left her face.

Patricia clucked in dissaproval. "How can you say such a thing, Tasuki? What an unkind sentiment."

"Yes, Tasuki, when did you find time to attend medical school?" Nakago's eyebrows rose in mock curiosity.

"I may not be a doctor, but I did learn a few things while I was gone." A strand of red hair fell down across his eyes as he spoke, still staring at Miaka as if he were speaking to her alone. "Look at Missy and her sisters compared to Yui. There are no frail women in the territory, only strong women of grit and determination."

Miaka felt the heat climb to her earlobes. Instead of being comforted by Tasuki's words, they made her feel rough and unfeminine. She forced herself to meet his gaze, even though her heart was breaking. "If you don't mind, I think I will go up to my room now" Miaka pulled her hand from beneath his and pushed her chair back, moving carefully so as not to tread on the edge of her skirt.

"Yes, get some rest." Donovan smiled, but his brows were still pinched together. "Things will look better tomorrow. They always do." He gave her a little wink.

"Thank you, and please accept my gratitude for inviting me into your home." She took one step, then paused and turned. "Oh, I forgot, Mrs. O'Bannion, Mr. Dover had planned to take Yui and I to the zoological exhibit tomorrow- "

"You agreed to go to the park with Hotohori Dover?" Tasuki blurted out.

"Yes." Miaka saw his expression grow even more grim. Her chin came up a notch as she prepared to defend herself and her decision. For a moment she almost explained that she was only going to accompany Yui, but then her temper flared. "Is there some reason why Mr. Dover should not take me -and Yui- to the park?" Her words were clipped and defensive.

"Yes-no. . ." Tasuki bumped his saucer, spilling coffee on the white tablecloth, turning it a dirty dull brown. He dabbed at it for a moment, then flung his napkin down in frustration and glared at Miaka. "Oh damn it all, that wasn't exactly what I meant."

"Tasuki, are you trying to tell me what I can and can not do again?" Miaka carefully enunciated each syllable.

Tasuki stood up and leaned forward, coming as near to her face as he could with the table between them. He placed his palms on either side of the coffee cup and narrowed his eyes. "Don't start putting words in my mouth, Missy. What I meant was this is New York, not Wyoming. You cannot go about in carriages with men who are practically strangers to you."

She glared at him and leaned closer. "Oh, you are impossible. Mr. Dover is hardly a stranger to me, or you and this family for that matter. And I will go with whomever I wish."

Tasuki's mind raced, searching for a sound reason to contradict the truth. "Not without a chaperon," He blurted out. He tilted a brow, infinitely pleased that he had been able to grasp a plausible explanation for his behavior and objection to Hotohori. No one could twist his meaning or his intentions, and nobody could accuse him of not looking out for Miaka's best interests.

Patricia made a clicking sound, and Tasuki turned to look at her. She was staring at him with a puzzled expression. "Hotohori is a perfect gentleman, as you well know. Now I think it is time for Miaka to get some rest." Patricia turned her concerned eyes to Miaka. "And don't worry about any of this, dear."

Miaka nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She turned to Tasuki and gave him a stare that could have frozen water. "I am flattered by your concern, Tasuki, but as Mrs. O'Bannion says, there is no cause for you to worry about me. You are not my keeper." She turned on her heel and walked to the curving staircase. Tasuki could only stare at her with his mouth agape.

Tasuki lay in his and listened to the ticking of the clock below. He had not slept - could not sleep with the thought of Miaka only a few yards away.

He'd heard Patricia and Donovan go to bed hours ago, and even the soft sounds of Nakago moving around in his room had long since subsided.

And yet I cannot sleep.'

He rose from his bed and shoved the window open. The sultry night air washed over him. He wanted to speak to Miaka, to get this silly misunderstanding cleared up, to explain.

Explain what? That you are driving yourself mad with jealousy? Or that you can think of nothing but kissing her? Or that you were a stupid dolt to think you wanted to be a bachelor forever?'

He silently cursed himself and dragged his hands through his hair. He had shed his shirt and boots, but was still wearing his trousers. A night bird called and he shivered.

This has gone on long enough. I have to talk to Miaka.'

Tasuki eased open his door and tiptoed down the hall to Clair's old bedroom. He stood there, with his hand poised to knock, while he tried to imagine what he would say. Finally, when nothing came to mind, he turned and started back to his own room, but the pull of Miaka would not let him go. Taking every care to be quiet, Tasuki put his hand on the knob. He turned it slowly, expecting it to be locked.

It wasn't.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, telling himself that he had lost his mind.

He didn't care.

The soft sound of breathing could be heard coming from the canopied bed. He crept closer, intent on getting a glimpse of Miaka, determined to satisfy his craving for her with one innocent look. The glow of gaslights from the street beyond illuminated half of the

moon. Tasuki tiptoed near the bed.

Miaka had awoken the moment the door opened. Growing up in the territory meant sleeping with one eye open. She had nearly called out, but then something- some instinct- told her the intruder was Tasuki.

Her pulse escalated as the dark form crept toward the bed. She could hear the echo of her heartbeat against the feather pillow, and strangely, the thud of her heart seemed to mirror a dull throbbing between her legs.

He moved into the slender shaft of light and she saw his chest, wide and muscled, then his neck and finally the lower half of his face.

Lord almighty, she wanted him in her bed.'

The realization made her breath catch in the back of her throat. Miaka could no longer hide from the truth of her feelings.

She wanted Tasuki to love her.'

Tasuki stopped only inches from the bed. He touched the curtain at the nearest poster, telling himself to turn around and leave before he woke her up and she screamed like a catamount.

"I am not asleep, Tasuki." Miaka whispered.

And with that admission, Tasuki knew he was not leaving.

With a husky moan of submission and lust, he was beside her. His hands were on her before he even knew that was his intention.

"Oh, Miaka," he inhaled the scent of her hair, touched the soft fleshy mounds of her breasts.

"Why did you come?" She asked.

"How could I not?" He kissed her then. It was a kiss full of savagery and hunger. A kiss he had denied wanting-a kiss he would never forget.

He hands were curious and seemed to have a mind of their own. She found the width of his shoulders. His muscles flinched under her hands as she explored the feel of him. He was as hard and lean as she had imagined he would be. As she touched him a wave of heat enveloped her.

"God, Miaka -Missy- I have wanted. . ." his voice trailed off as he nuzzled her neck and nibbled on the ear that had been fascinating him for weeks.

She had never been with a man, but growing up on a ranch left little to the imagination about how they would couple. The persistent throbbing between her legs urged her to explore more of his body, even while a voice in her head warned her that she was playing with fire.

"I want you." Tasuki climbed into bed beside her. A part of him knew what he was doing was wrong. "I should've come sooner."

"What made you come now?" Miaka twisted her fingers in a lock of his hair.

"Tomorrow I'll get our tickets," he said while he kissed her throat, feeling her pulse under his lips.

"Tickets? For what?"

"So we can go back home-just you and me." She became still as death. Her body seemed to grow cold as his hands rested on her waist.

"Missy? What is it?" He raised himself on one elbow and peered into her shadowy face.

"You just naturally assume you can come in here, climb into my bed and start making decisions for me." There was anger in her voice.

"We don't belong here, neither one of us. Let's go back where we belong."

"What about Violet Ashland?" Miaka sat up. Moonlight accentuated her full round breasts. "What about your fiancée. Tasuki? What will you do about her if we tuck our tails between our legs and run back to the ranch like a couple of thieves in the night?"

Now it was Tasuki's turn to grow cold. He felt his desire wither. For some foolish reason he had thought-hoped- that Miaka did not know about Violet. It was pretty stupid, considering she had been standing right there when Violet had announced it.

Tasuki's voice was as brittle as his control. "What about Violet?"

"The lady herself says you are going to be married, and I don't hear you telling me that she was wrong. I saw the ring."

Silence hung over them for half a heartbeat. Tasuki was torn. Should he tell Miaka that he had once loved Violet- had given her a ring and his heart, and had been crushed when she threw him over for bigger game? How could he explain that he had been entranced by her cool beauty, by what he had thought was a lady?

"I think you had better leave," Miaka said softly as she drew the sheet up to cover herself. "I might not be a lady, but I won't be any man's fancy woman."

Tasuki glared at her in the half-light for a few minutes, then he turned and left. He had to do something about Violet Ashland's lies, and then, by God, he was going to set Miss Miaka Brooks straight on a number of truths.

The next two weeks passed slowly for Tasuki. He had tried to quell the rumors of marriage to Violet that were spreading like wildfire through the social circle, but it was not easy- not when Violet flitted around, showing off that damn ring. Why hadn't he taken it back when she ended it?

Violet had done her work well.

But why?

Surely she did not believe that he would forgive her and want her back?

Of course she would. Violet Ashland was just that spoiled and just that simple. It would never occur to the beautiful, cold-hearted bitch that any man, much less Tasuki McCarty who had been so besotted with her before, could or would ever turn down the offer of her company. And even though she knew he no longer held any regard for her, she would not be above using his friends' business interests and partnerships in blackmail to accomplish what she wanted. Patricia would be mortified by such a scandal, and Violet knew it.

Bitch!'

He took a drink of whiskey and then threw the glass as hard as he could. It hit Patricia's favorite wallpaper, staining one pink rose a dirty brown with the last of the whiskey. Within seconds he heard the rapid staccato of Tilly's feet.

"Oh sir. What has happened?" Tilly's eyes were wide.

"Sorry, Tilly." Tasuki muttered.

"No problem, sir. I'll get a pan and a broom."

"Just bring them to me, Tilly. I made the mess-I'll clean it up."

She stared at him for a protracted minute, then she bobbed her head and scurried off.

I made the mess-I'll clean it up.'

His words echoed in his head. He was the only person who could get Violet and her lies under control. He flopped down on the settee and dragged his fingers through his hair. It would be a damn sight easier if he didn't see Missy everywhere he went.

Miaka at the park with Hotohori. Miaka at DelMonico's with Hotohori. Miaka and Hotohori or Miaka and any number of young swains that now squired her around the city. It galled him every time he saw her, but it galled him even more that he had not ever managed to speak to her, and as far as he knew she had never even known he was there.

He was miserable. And he was getting mad.