Hello again! This is Amiboshi, back with another chapter of Wild Angels! About dang time!
Anyway, thanks to KittyLynne as always for a wonderful editing job, and for somehow managing to put up with my sloth-like writing pace.
Sorry for the delay! Enjoy!
Wild Angels
By Amiboshi-chan
Chapter Twelve
A flash of movement caught Tasuki's eye as he laughed and pushed himself off the rope.
Miaka.
She disappeared out the door in a blur of green fabric and a flash of white petticoats. He felt a tug on his heart which shocked him.
"Uh-oh, it looks as if we have been caught in the act," Hotohori said cheerfully. "Of course, I am not the one in love with the dark-haired vixen, so-"
"Shut up, Hotohori," Tasuki vaulted out of the ring and grabbed a towel, then rushed past the surprised female spectators, their murmurs of embarrassment and appreciation humming in his ears.
By the time he reached the hallway Miaka had covered a considerable distance, but luckily for him she had lost her direction. She was practically running toward the wrong end of the corridor. He knew the moment she realized her mistake. Her bustle jiggled as she pulled herself up short. Her shoulders went taut and Tasuki could almost hear the string of epithets bubbling in the back of her throat.
"Have you lost your way?" He asked, in a voice too sweet to be sincere.
She rounded on him with all the fury of an Atlantic squall. There was no other way to exit the building than to pass him, and it was evident that was the last thing she wanted to do. He grinned, waiting her to admit that fact to herself. To his disappointment, she stayed where she was, lifting her chin a notch and stiffening like a captured hare.
All right, my stubborn little spitfire. I will come to you. This time.
She held her ground while he moved toward her. Each step he took narrowed the distance and intensified the tension between them. He looped the towel around his neck, trying his damndest to ignore the lovely contour of her jaw and the smooth column of her graceful neck where her pulse beat under skin softer than the finest French silk.
He stopped two feet away from her just to get his pulse under control. Sparks of emotion seemed to fly from her in all directions, burning him as they slid by. Though he'd left the boxing ring behind, he was still fighting two impulses- one to turn tail and run, the other to yank her into his arms.
"Why are you here, Miaka? Did Nakago tell you about this?" He would wring his friend's neck, if that were so...
"No."
Now his curiosity was really peaked. That tempestuous look in her eyes was causing havoc to his insides. He took another step closer, feeling as if he was stalking a quarry.
But what will you do if you catch her?
"You came here alone? Were you looking for me?" Out of vanity he secretly wished that were true, but he suspected something different. "Or perhaps...Hotohori?"
The urge to kiss her was overtaking his mind. He fought the desire by digging his fingers deeply into the thick ends of towel looped around his neck, all the while praying that she would not drop her eyes low enough to glimpse the evidence of his stirring arousal beneath the thin fabric of his trousers.
"I was looking for you." The admission seemed to cause her physical pain.
"Oh." Something hot and liquid filled his middle. "Why?"
He moved closer. Miaka backed up tight against the stone wall.
Trapped.
Her eyes flicked over his chest and left a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. He wished she would stop looking at him like that. No... he wished she would never stop looking at him like that. Hell, he didn't know what he wished anymore, he realized, as he gazed into her hypnotic dark eyes.
"Tasuki?" Her voice drew his gaze to her outstretched hand. There, within the grip of her very ladylike glove, was a small white envelope. "I came to deliver this to you."
He subdued the impulse to grab her hand and pull her to his chest, and snatched the envelope from her instead. "Who recruited you to be a messenger?" He asked lightly, hoping he could diffuse the electrically charged mood surrounding him.
-
"Mrs. O' Bannion." Miaka took a certain amount of pleasure when Tasuki's eyebrows arched in surprise. His jade-colored eyes were burning with restless energy and...
Desire?
"A message from Patricia?" He unfolded the flap and read the card. One side of his mouth tilted upward. "This sounds ominous. What does she wish to talk to me about?"
"I have no idea." Miaka's gaze meandered over the breadth of his shoulders, lingering on the pale jagged scar he had earned saving her life for the first time.
"Healed pretty well, don't you think?" He asked abruptly.
Her eyes snapped to his face. "What did?" Her voice was too breathy, too interested.
"The scar. Chichiri did a fine job of stitching me up."
She realized with a start he had seen her staring at the scar...
And the deep corded muscles of his upper arms...
And his bared torso...
And every inch of his exposed flesh.
Dear Lord.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she fought for some semblance of control. "Yes, my brother has a real nice hand with a needle." Her voice cracked; her throat burned. She wished her jaunty bonnet had a veil so she might draw it over her face and prevent people from seeing her. "Your eye is beginning to swell." She added. Her fingers came up automatically, and before she had time to stop herself, her gloved fingers had gingerly touched him. He flinched, and she drew back as if she had been struck.
She wanted to stop the fluttering inside her belly. She didn't like the strange tension that lay between them. "Why have you and Hotohori been fighting?" A muscle in Tasuki's jaw flinched, while his eyes narrowed. "I am not stupid, Tasuki! This is not the first time you two have fought, is it? Hotohori had a shiner the other day, and you had barked knuckles..." She pinned him with a smug gaze.
"Boxing. Exercise, nothing more," he lied. What would her lips taste like today? Would they be flavored with sugar cookies and lemon tea?
"I see," Miaka murmured.
He studied her face and wished her hair were free of the white netting. He could almost feel the weight of the dark locks between his fingers as he imagined unpinning her chignon. His belly began to tie itself into a tight knot. "Then again...what if I told you that we had been fighting over you? Tell me, Miaka." His voice was a husky purr of sensuality as he stared down at her. "What would you say if I told you we were doing battle to see which one of us would get to ... say, propose to you?"
Her eyes widened. He took a step closer. She tried to retreat, but her back was against a cold wall of polished stone.
She could not run away.
He closed the space between them and placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, trapping her within the circle of his bare arms. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the light floral scent she was wearing. Heat emanated her from her body and warmed his arms, his chest, his heart.
"What would you say?" He leaned in close to her.
"I would say that one of you had better remember that he already has a fiancee." She tried to return his gaze, but it was too much for her to withstand. Her eyes slid away from his.
He wanted her to look at him again, so he could study the gold flecks around her lovely green irises. "What if I told you all that nonsense about Violet Ashland being my fiancee is a lie?"
Miaka's eyes snapped back to his face and held. "I would... I would have to hear it said in her presence."
Was it a lie?
"Can't you trust me? If I say it's a lie, can't you believe me?"
"No."
In a lightning-quick movement she ducked beneath his arm. Tasuki was left holding nothing but hair. He turned to her as the delicious warmth from her body faded away, and stared at her rigid back. "Why not?"
Miaka was breathing heavily, and even more raggedly than he was. Without turning around, she spoke again. "Because I want to believe it too much." Then she started walking as fast as she could toward the exit.
-
He stood there, watching her walk away. What exactly had she meant by that statement?
Missy, Miaka... he knew her in many guises, but somehow this woman who fled from him was a tantalizing stranger, a delicious mystery he yearned to solve.
At that moment he had to laugh aloud at the irony of the situation. There was no mystery as to how he felt about Missy- he could deny it until Judgement Day and it wouldn't change a thing. Hotohori had been right. Nakago had been right. He was in love with Miaka Brooks. It had taken the Territorial wildcat coming all the way to New York before he could admit it.
Now he just needed to settle things with Violet Ashland so he could start convincing Miaka.
The ride to the telegraph office seemed to take forever, but once Tasuki had sent the message to Nakago a strange sort of calm settled over him. Now that he had decided on a course of action, the whole world looked different. He was going to court Miaka Brooks- court her, woo her, and win her. And he was going to start as soon as he had taken care of the rumors Violet had so artfully kept circulating through New York society. He still had not figured out what her game was, but he intended to find out tonight, at the charity drive.
-
Miaka fumbled with the ribbons on her chemise, trying for the third time to make a bow. She didn't want to admit that the episode with Tasuki at the gentlemen's club had affected her, but neither could she put the incident out of her mind.
There had been a moment, when he had trapped her against that wall, that her heart felt as if it would leap out of her chest. She had inhaled the manly musk of his body, and something akin to
lightning had seared the innermost parts of her soul. She had noticed the color of his eyes, the tilt of his brow, all the things that made him Tasuki McCarty, and wanted to melt in his arms.
At that moment, she would have given him anything- her body, her soul... her love.
"I am such a fool." She told her reflection. She had become moonstruck. Tasuki was a charmer. He had broken more hearts than could be counted, if even half of what Yui told her was true. And he had never actually said that he was not engaged to Violet Ashland.
What if I told you it was a lie?
She stared into her own eyes.
Tasuki had asked her to trust him, but what did that mean? How could she trust him when she couldn't even trust herself to do the right thing? When he was near her she felt like a drunken idiot, incapable of rational thought, unable to uphold her own code of honor.
"Damn it!" She swore. "Damn him!" It rubbed against her Brooks grain to admit that he had gotten under her skin. "I won't let it happen again! I won't become a simpering fool and be a party to him betraying another woman's heart!"
She picked up the emerald green, taffeta moire gown and shook out the wrinkles in the underskirt. It weighed nearly ten pounds. Ten pounds of glistening elegance that Yui promised would win her every man's attention. With a sigh, Miaka started at the bottom, gathering yards of material and lace into her hands until she had cleared an opening for her head. It took some squirming, but finally the gown settled on her shoulders. The weight of the full skirt pulled the rest of it down around her hips with a heavy swish.
At least, she reasoned, by attending the party with Patricia she would be spared any further teasing from Tasuki tonight. He would not dare to take liberties in front of Mrs. O' Bannion.
With that thought to comfort her she brushed her hair and waited for Tilly to arrive and help her with the hundred other details of her grooming that still partially mystified her. As the maid worked, Miaka tried to clear her mind of Tasuki and think only of the party. She was determined to look her best and act the part of a fine lady, even if she had never felt less like doing so.
An hour later, Tilly was still fussing over each ruffle and bit of lace at the bottom of her skirt.
"Oh, dear, it is almost time to go," Miaka whispered breathlessly. She had managed to subdue thoughts of Tasuki and replace them with the happy prospect of seeing Yui. In fact, she had silently vowed to steer clear of all men this evening- Tasuki, Hotohori and anybody else in trousers. She was resolved to find a quiet corner where she and Yui could spend the evening talking about something besides men.
And perhaps if Tokaki saw her keeping Yui quiet, he would soften his attitude toward her and lift his ban on her visiting his daughter. It was certainly something to which she could look forward.
"Yes?" She called, when she heard a knock on her door.
"Are you ready, dear?" Patricia peeked inside. The glow of gaslight from the hallway reflected off her snowy curls and the diamonds at her throat and ears. She looked cool and richly elegant in her plum-colored satin gown.
"Patricia, you are just beautiful!" Miaka exclaimed sincerely.
"Thank you, dear. And you- there is a glow about you..." the older woman said, as she stepped into the room. "You have been seeing a lot of young Hotohori." Her eyebrows rose inquiringly. "Could it be that love has brought a maidenly flush to your cheeks?"
"I don't think so, Patricia," Miaka murmured. She turned away and busied herself in front of the mirror. Do really I look so different? Am I ...in love?
Miaka banished the notion from her mind and focused on her gown. "I believe Chichiri would have a fit of apoplexy if he saw me in a dress cut this low," she mumbled. The green taffeta moire shimmered like the head of a mallard duck, the bodice barely covering enough of her chest for modesty.
Patricia laughed. "Fortunately for him your brother is not here, so he will be spared apoplexy." She smoothed one wayward curl from her guest's temple. "We'd better go or we'll be too late to be considered fashionable."
Miaka gathered her pale green, elbow-length gloves and followed Patricia downstairs. There, she stopped and looked in the downstairs mirror, still wondering if there was something different about the way she looked. However, another errant curl soon required her attention, and she was busy with it when Tasuki appeared behind her.
Her heart leapt to her throat. He was dressed in a back tuxedo. The shiny points of jet studs dotted the front of his ermine white shirt. The sharp, clean lines of his form-fitting coat emphasized the width of his shoulders. A black top coat was draped over one arm.
She whirled around to face him.
He stared at her, unblinking, while she studied his face. His left eye was a little swollen and discolored from the morning with Hotohori, but rather than detracting from his looks, the black eye only made him look more manly, more dangerous and more irresistible than ever. He wore the ruddy glow of the Territory, and yet was every inch the dashing New York gentleman. As she stared at him, she began to feel as attractive as a mud hen, not to mention as restless as the wind that blew over the Brooks Ranch.
How could she ever ignore this man? How could she not?
"You look magnificent He said.
Before she could reply, Patricia appeared and Tasuki courteously turned to greet her. But somehow Miaka knew that his attention was still focused on her, and not the older woman.
Pleasantries were exchanged, and then it was time to go. Nevertheless, Tasuki came to an abrupt halt as he reached the door, and turned back to face Patricia, his face pinched into a frown.
"No, this won't do. Miaka cannot go out in that condition."
"Tasuki!" Patricia's eyes widened. "How can you say such a thing?"
Miaka's heart fell to her feet. She lifted her chin and did her best to hide the pain Tasuki's remark had caused, as she stared into narrowed jade eyes. Why had he told her she looked magnificent if he objected to her appearance? She wasn't certain she could hold back the hot tears that were stinging the backs of her eyelids.
Tasuki's expression softened. His eyes roamed over Miaka's body, savoring each curve, each valley and plane of her form as he played out the silly charade. He knew she would never accept anything from him if he gave it to her in the usual fashion. "I am surprised you did not see the difficulty, Patricia." He added.
Patricia turned and allowed her eyes to skim over the younger woman. "I fail to what you mean..." She looked back at him, puzzled and flustered. "I think she looks stunning."
"She is going out practically naked." His eyes focused on Miaka's cleavage and he felt his loins tighten in that familiar way.
"Tasuki!" Patricia exclaimed, now looking outraged.
Miaka's bottom lip quivered.
Tasuki kept a straight face while he pulled a long, slender box from the folds of his coat. "But I have the remedy for that right here." He opened the box with a pop and drew out a string of lightning. "Turn around, Miaka." The sound of his husky demand made her stomach fall.
How could she refuse him anything?
His bare fingers grazed her collarbone, leaving a trail of molten heat that was immediately replaced by the chill of metal and cool glittering stones.
The mirror showed that a delicate row of emeralds and diamonds now rested against her flesh. Tasuki leaned close enough for her to feel the whisper of his breath across her earlobe as he fastened the clasp. "Trust me," he murmured, so only she could hear.
"See, Patricia? Now she is ready to go out!" He declared, as he straightened.
"My stars, Tasuki, that necklace is absolutely stunning!" Patricia gasped, then moved forward to give him an approving pat on the cheek. "What a lovely gesture! You can be so nice- when you want to be."
Miaka's gloved fingers skimmed along the shining stones. "I-I can't accept this! I can't take something like this from a man who isn't..." free to love me "...who isn't family."
"Nonsense! Weren't you the one who pointed out to Hotohori that we were practically like family?" One brow rose as Tasuki smiled. "I believe you compared us to cousins?"
"Well, yes, but I-"
He held up his hand to silence her. "No more buts. It looks beautiful on you."
Miaka turned to gaze at herself and Tasuki standing behind her in the looking glass. "Th...Thank you. I...I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." He replied softly. "Yet."
Patricia glanced at them both in confusion, but then she shrugged. "We'd better go. It is getting late."
It was with difficulty that Tasuki stifled a smile of satisfaction, as he escorted the women to the waiting carriage. Seeing Miaka wearing his gift had been worth terrifying Tilly into telling his what color Miaka's gown was, and then rushing around to the jeweler to find the perfect piece.
So far, his plan had played out perfectly. If fate continued to be on his side, this would be the night when all the misunderstandings between he and Miaka Brooks would be swept away.
-
The trio traveled in relative silence. Patricia seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts, and Miaka had been virtually tongue-tied ever since Tasuki had whispered in her ear.
Trust me.
Within a quarter hour the carriage turned up a long torch-lit driveway. Tasuki roused himself and gestured toward the lawn, which was illuminated by the glow from the moon as well as from dozens of gaslights.
"Tatara must have spent half his fortune on this," Tasuki remarked dryly.
Miaka swallowed hard. This was the biggest gathering she had attended since coming to New York. Her old fears about appearing gauche and less than ladylike nipped at the corners of her mind, but she pushed them aside, determined to conquer her insecurities once and for all.
As the carriage rolled along the paving stones of the driveway she got a better look at the house beyond. Torches burned along the walk, bordering the edge of the spacious lawn all the way to imposing marble steps that were flanked by a pair of carved stone lions.
"I hope Tatara has not squandered all of his fortune." Patricia smiled. "I would like a bit of it for the hospital. I intend to spend the evening persuading him to endow St. Michael's."
Tasuki chuckled and shook his head. "I should have known there was a reason you insisted I come along. Do you think you will need reinforcements?"
Miaka's eyes darted to Patricia's face. The older woman lowered her lashes as if she might be a little embarrassed. "No, I do not. I want you to spend the evening with Miaka. It would be unthinkable for her to attend a function like this unescorted." She turned her gaze upon Miaka. "I hope you don't mind, dear, but it is very important that the hospital receive some money."
Miaka knew she shouldn't allow herself to look at Tasuki. But even as she thought it, her eyes met his. A river of molten passion seemed to pass between them. "It's all right, Patricia. I don't mind." She murmured.
"I promise I won't leave her side for a single moment." Tasuki said, his hot eyes lowering to rake over her.
"I am so pleased you two are getting along." Patricia said.
-
True to his word, Tasuki stayed at Miaka's side through the ritual of being received by the host and hostess. Yui was escorted by a stern-faced Tokaki, who made sure she went directly to the most comfortable looking couch. He cast one dark gaze Miaka's way, and she knew that her hope of talking to Yui all evening was a hollow one. Tokaki had not softened his opinion of her, and now she was saddled with Tasuki.
"Shall we dance?" Tasuki whispered into her ear he grasped her arm, just as he had done at Ellen's wedding, and then maneuvered her through the maze of couples. Before she knew what was happening his unyielding arm was at the small of her back, drawing her close to him. Then he tilted up her chin and looked deep into her eyes.
"Remember, I am good.. Put yourself in my hands."
As the started to spin out onto the dance floor, she wondered if he was talking about his dancing.
During dance after dance Miaka stared at Tasuki's face and tried to deny her feelings. A sensation, as if she were falling from some great height-much higher than Yui's balcony-engulfed her. Just when she felt so dizzy she was unsure of her legs, he stopped and pulled her through a series of halls and doorways. Soon the noise and the crowd were far behind.
They stood in a quiet alcove where a fountain bubbled water from a urn held by a winged cherub. Plants of every variety surrounded them. Tall trees created a green canopy overhead. It was a magical place, peaceful and secluded.
Miaka let out a sigh of relief while calm settled over her. She looked up and found Tasuki watching her with a speculative expression.
"It is time we had a talk, Miaka," he said.
Her fingers kept straying to the necklace, while doubts and suspicions as to why he had given it to her flitted in and out of her head.
"It suits you." Tasuki said, in a voice that was smoother and more potent than aged whiskey.
Miaka stared at him, mesmerized by the liquid green of his eyes. "Why did you do it?"
"Why did I do what?" He cocked his head. She wondered if his vision was impaired by the swelling of his eye.
"Agree to be my escort." She cleared her throat, but the lump remained. "And give me this necklace."
He took her hand and led her to a stone bench, then pulled her down beside him, shoving the fullness of her skirt away so he could sit very, very close. She found herself staring at the strong muscles of his thigh nudging against hers while he spoke.
"Don't you understand, little spitfire? I would do much more for you than that."
She looked up, startled as he drew her near. As he covered her mouth with his lips, she suddenly realized, with a sharp wrenching in her chest, exactly what it was that she wanted from Tasuki McCarty.
She wanted his heart. A heart that was pledged to another.
-
Bonus: Wild Angels FAQ
I've received numerous emails containing questions about the Brooks and McCarty families. Since they've come into play a bit more than I originally intended, here's a bit of info on the dear loved ones of our favorite duo.
Where is Tasuki's family? How are they acquainted with the O'Bannions?
The McCarty and O'Bannion families are associates in the shipping industry. Though originally from New York, Tasuki's parents now oversee the business from Chicago- where Donovan and Nakago are now.
How come we never meet Miaka's parents?
The Brooks ranch is ran by Chichiri, Miaka's brother, which indicates an absence of their parents. Maybe they're dead. It is the 'wild west'... perhaps they're outlaws. (Giggles with those who read the original idea behind Wild Angels) The point is, they don't play a significant part in the story, so I don't have much of a background developed for them. If the Brooks/McCarty adventures continue into future stories, maybe I'll go a little deeper there. (Muses at the possibilities...)
How many siblings does Miaka have?
We've met two so far. Chichiri is the eldest, and a mentor for both Miaka and Tasuki. Suboshi is mentioned in the first chapter. He is Miaka's younger brother. We've also mentioned Soi, the only other female amongst them. There is also one more, so that makes five.
Who is the other Brooks sibling?
That's for me to know and you to find out later, isn't it?