The White Rabbit Page 6

  "That makes sense. There were several attempts on their lives while they were still living. Maybe they sent the girl away for safekeeping?” Hatter suggested.

  "Hold on!” Bud raised his hands as if to ward off that logic. “The king and queen died years ago of old age. How could they have a daughter Ali's age? It doesn't make sense."

  "Sure it does. She was gone for two months by our time, but only a few days passed in her world. Time moves differently there. It also explains why the king and queen died before they could send for her—time really had slipped away from them,” Rabbit said.

  "Or maybe the ‘grandma’ didn't want to part with her precious girl?” Hatter suggested darkly.

  "I don't know. What I do know is that we've got the girl we've been hoping for. We need to concentrate on removing the queen now. I just hope she doesn't realize just who Ali is."

  "Better hide her until we're ready to come and get her, then,” Hatter suggested. “She's been doing alright in the mirror world of hers. Maybe that would be a good place."

  Rabbit silently rebelled against that idea, but he couldn't argue it was a good one. If the queen hadn't found her in all these years, what were the odds she would now?

  He didn't like it. Losing her the first time had been tough enough. The two of them had unfinished business. They'd just met, after all, and he hadn't been ready to let her go. There'd been so much chemistry between them, a desire that made him want to know her more. She was so different from the women he knew—completely different from her sister.

  He grimaced, realizing the position that put him in. He wasn't the sort of man to date sisters. It had always seemed tasteless to him, fraught with complications. The two women were so completely alien, though, and what he'd had with the queen was hardly a romance. Galling as it was to admit it, he'd been more her servant than her lover.

  The thought of having her disappear again, with no way to trace her was unbearable. They needed her here to replace the queen.

  He needed her.

  As he walked slowly back to his room, he decided it wasn't the right time to tell her about her parents. Telling her how they'd died would necessitate telling her who they'd been, and that might not be easy for her. He didn't want to explain about her sister yet, either. He knew her well enough to suspect she'd panic at the thought of being queen. She'd run away, and he didn't have the patience to deal with that.

  What he could do to ease the transition was introduce her to a little luxury. Not only would she be grateful to him, she'd have fond memories of the best of the Mirror Lands. With that in mind, he entered his room and told her, “Come on. I have something to show you."

  Before Ali knew it, she was seated in a salon getting a pedicure and manicure. Modeled after a Japanese garden, the room was thick with potted bamboo, jasmine, and a mossy fountain filled with koi, Japanese iris, cattails and water lilies. The attendants all wore kimonos and wore their hair up like geisha girls, though their faces were not heavily painted.

  An attendant brought her a cup of white tea and dainties to snack on while her feet were soaked, massaged, and exfoliated. She was a little baffled as to why she was relaxing in a chair with cucumber salad slathered on her face, but wasn't inclined to ask questions when it all felt so good. Rabbit seemed to have gotten over his huff—maybe this was just his way of apologizing. It so, it was quite a treat. Smugly, she wondered what he would do if he really needed to grovel. Surely it couldn't be better than this.

  After the cucumber mask was rinsed away, she was given a massage. The closest she'd ever come to that expensive luxury was her grandmother combing her hair. This felt a hundred times better, and she loved the lily scented oil he used. Apparently her masseuse was also something of a chiropractor, because he cracked her back, realigned her neck and popped the tension out of her shoulder blades. By the time he was done she didn't want to move, but she was coaxed into a steam room. Fifteen minutes later, she was so relaxed she practically crawled out. She took a shower in a circular stone room big enough to house a horse, marveling at the softness of the water. Afterward, she was directed into a cool stone pool to take the heat out of her recently worked over muscles.

  Rabbit made himself scarce while she was pampered, but reappeared with a smile after she'd climbed out of the pool, surprisingly invigorated. She was sitting in a chair, wrapped in a towel having her hair cut and styled, far too tranquil to worry about her scanty attire.

  He smiled at her. “You look content."

  "Hm. I feel like a queen,” she murmured. “This is a wonderful place."

  He grinned. “I'm so pleased you like it. Imagine what it would be like to do this every week."

  She groaned. “Don't make me think like that, I beg you. I'm just enjoying the moment."

  "The moment isn't over yet,” he assured her. Once her hair had been styled and her makeup finished, he led her to a side door and opened it. She was surprised to see a clothes boutique filled with the most fabulous gowns. The Paris style salon sported watered silk walls in sky blue and a glittering chandelier, but that was hardly the best part. Elegant dress forms of muslin with polished walnut finials for heads acted as foils for the simple yet enchanting dresses. She could tell that fabric had been lovingly chosen for each one, the trim set just so. Any one of them would have made her a happy girl, but she was certain they each cost more than she made in a month. And the shoes! She was dying to try the shoes, velvet and satin and leather. There was a whole row of them on the opposite side of the store, crying out to be worn.

  Rabbit gallantly handed her over the threshold. “Madam Rose has kindly agreed to close her shop for the day, just for you. You're to have your pick of the place."

  Ali's eyes widened. “Rabbit! I can't ... you've done so much already."

  He raised a hand. “Sweetheart, I know women. We could have this discussion, but I know you can't resist the lure of shopping. I'm going to win in the end, so why don't we...” eyes on her, he kissed the back of her hand, “skip the argument,” he popped her pinky into his mouth and suckled it, swirled his tongue around the digit, “save our energies for later?"

  By the time he released her, Ali was too dazed to argue. Consequentially she was ushered into to a changing room by the enterprising Madam Rose. Not only was the ample woman dressed in shades of raspberry, she smelled of rose oil. She was imperious and terrifyingly efficient as she ordered her shop girls around, directing them to fetch this or that without bothering to consult Ali. The girls, Lily and Tulip, were dressed much like their namesakes. Lily wore a yellow petal shaped skirt and Tulip had a blue dress a with belled, wispy overskirt. Lily wore a perfume that evoked her patron flower, too.

  They wasted no time clothing Ali in a whisper thin silk slip, garter belt and stockings—no panties! Apparently they weren't the thing here—and a corset. Ali wasn't keen on the corset and the way it forced her to stand straight, but the garment wasn't fastened tightly, just enough to elevate her breasts. She could hardly look at herself when she was given heeled but surprisingly comfortable shoes. She could see the shadow of her femininity through the wisp of silk. This was definitely a picture she'd never seen of herself.

  She saw why that effect was necessary when an emerald velvet gown with an empire waist dress was lowered over her head. The corset pushed her breasts up to fill out the square neckline, showcasing them in a way that made her blush. Combined with the breeze she felt under her skirt, she was understandably flushed when she was led out to Rabbit.

  His eyes lit up as they traveled slowly over her. “Mm. I should have done this a long time ago, hot stuff."

  "Rabbit.... “She wasn't sure whether she was chiding him for making her blush or protesting the extravagance. She couldn't deny that she liked looking good for him, though.

  He gave her a roguish grin. “While you look good enough to eat, sweetheart, I'll bet you worked up an appetite. Why don't I take you to this nice little pasty shop I know?” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Unl
ess you'd rather have me for dinner?"

  "Rabbit!"

  He was still chuckling when he opened the side door again and led her through. She gasped. The salon was gone, replaced by a French pastry shop with a dizzying variety of fresh pastries. She half-turned to look at the door Rabbit had already closed. It had become a glass door with a view to a busy cobblestone street. She looked at him for an explanation.

  "Magic, Ali. Just for you,” he whispered. He kissed her temple. “Go on—choose something delicious."

  How? She looked at the glass cases in awe, having never seen such wonderful looking dessert. They had baba al rum, tiny cakes topped with fruit, tarts, chocolate confections and steamed puddings. After agonizing for a good five minutes, she narrowed it down to three. Rabbit laughed and bought them all, along with a bottle of wine. With her on his arm, he escorted her out of the shop. This time the door opened to a wildflower field bordering a lake. With a wave of his hand, he produced a blanket out of thin air and spread it on the ground.

  Ali slowly savored her treats as she sat on the blanket and gazed over the lake. Swans and the occasional duck glided over the glass surface, and the occasional fish broke the waters. Butterflies sipped the flowers nearby and lifted off like airborne petals on the softy scented breeze.

  She had never had a more magical day. The spa, the dress, all of it, had been wonderful. Most wonderful of all, though, was that Rabbit had done it all for her. He'd arranged everything, had made her feel so special. She wanted to tell him how much it meant to her, but it was hard to overcome her shyness, her fear of sharing her heart's thoughts.

  "You look happy.” Rabbit lay beside her on the blanket, his head propped on one hand. It was tempting to let her contentment lull him, but he was alert for danger. He had ways of blocking the queen from spying on them, but he had to remain vigilant. If the queen wanted to badly enough, she could find them.

  It was one of the reasons he'd kept them moving through the day, and he knew their time was almost up. She would have to go home soon.

  He wanted her, wanted to lay her down among all this open skied beauty and love her, but could not, not until the queen was removed from power. After that, he planed to make up for lost time. He grinned to himself, imagining how sweet the future would be.

  Ali smiled back at him, innocent of his thoughts. “I wish this day would never end.” She slanted him a shy look through her lashes. “Thank you so much for all of this. I've enjoyed it so much."

  He couldn't resist. He gave her a small kiss, but drew back before it could become more. “Me, too, sweetheart. Now I have one last gift.” He took her hand and gently placed her locket in it. He curled her fingers over it and kissed it. “You need to stay safe for a little while longer. Besides, this is yours. I had no right to take it."

  She looked at it, confused and a little hurt. “I don't understand."

  He looked at her seriously. “I have to do something about the queen. You'll never be safe here until she's dealt with.” He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “As soon as I'm done, I'll come for you. It shouldn't be long. I won't let it be long.” He leaned back and told her roughly, “We have unfinished business, you and I."

  When she gazed at him with wide, luminous eyes, he couldn't stand the heat that shot through him, so he jumped to his feet. “Come on! Home with you, before I rumple that new dress."

  She flushed as she accepted a hand up. “I wouldn't mind,” she said under her breath.

  Rabbit gazed at her speculatively. Really, a man could only take so much. Maybe he could at least send her off with a small gift? As long as they didn't end up on the ground....

  "I heard that,” he said with a naughty grin as he yanked her into his arms. “And I'm not letting you take it back.” Her eyes widened as his mouth took hers, cutting short her explanation. Her own kiss was heated, if unschooled, and he enjoyed tutoring her in the arts of pleasure. He must have done a good job, because she only sighed with approval when his hands slipped over her backside and failed to note the rising of her skirts until he turned her in his arms and slid his fingers inside her.

  Ali gasped as his fingers pierced the wet heat. On fire himself, he worked them inside her and stroked her sensitive nub with his thumb. She lurched in his arms, either from the jolt of pleasure or in an instinctive attempt to retreat.

  He wouldn't let her, had no desire to stop the sweet torture. Her first climax, so quick, so strong, caught him by surprise. The second made him sweat. By the third one, he was burning with a need to lay her out and complete her education. What could five minutes hurt? In the state he was in, it wouldn't be longer.

  He couldn't send her home like that, though. She needed more than a quick tumble and a see-you-later, for all that he planned to come back soon. Reluctantly, he removed his hand and gripped her bare bottom with both hands, trying to calm them both down. It only took two seconds to realize that it was the wrong move. Hastily he removed his hands to her waist, letting her skirts fall. She trembled in his arms.

  Finally he took a deep breath. Smiling into her shaken face, he quipped, “What a ride, huh? Imagine how much better it will be when we have a bed to hand and all night."

  She closed her eyes and groaned.

  "Right. Wrong image right now, and we both need to go.” He kissed her forehead, nuzzled her temple. He reluctantly stepped back. “Until next time, my love. Dream of me."

  * * * *

  She wasn't sure how she got home. Once there, all she could do was flop on the bed and stare at the ceiling. The man had killed her.

  Was this what love felt like? She'd heard enough people talk about falling in love and then seen them with another person to think love was all it would take to keep a man like Rabbit. Maybe people had it all wrong and commitment was what it took, she mused. Find the right guy, make sure you were both willing to work things out, keep them ticking, that was her idea of marriage. She had no doubt she was the sticking kind, but was he? She had a feeling that whatever he'd been in the past, if Rabbit was ready to settle down now, it would be for good.

  Heedless of her makeup, Ali turned her face into the pillow and laughed. The man had her in knots. She was thinking in circles.

  She wondered belatedly why she hadn't invited him to her world, too dazed to think of it, maybe. He'd said things about the evil queen, too, but she'd been too interested in what was happening with them to pursue it. Now she frowned, wishing she'd questioned him further. What was the man up to?

  She glanced at the clock, saw it was late afternoon. Her breath hitched as she remembered the time difference between worlds. How long had she been gone, anyway?

  Ali ran for the stairs, nearly tripped in her finery. She flipped on the TV and searched for a date, but it was fruitless. A glance out the window didn't help, other that to prove it was raining. She needed to get out and buy a paper.

  It was a lot harder to wiggle out of a gown and corset without help. The corset strings were laced in the back, and she had to wonder how women managed it as she contorted to grasp the strings. If she were queen, she'd ban the stupid things. Sliding into jeans and a t-shirt had never felt better, but she was careful to hang the gown up before she left.

  She glanced over and saw Mrs. Heart's lights glowing through the downpour as she jumped in her car. As soon as she saw how much time had passed, she'd have to concoct a story to explain her absence. As she rolled through the slick streets, she played stories through her head. Delayed grief reaction? Spur of the moment trip to Barbados? She'd met someone rich and spent a month on his yacht?

  It was almost anticlimactic to wrestle a paper from a curbside vending machine and discover she'd only been gone two days. True, she was probably fired—unless she could make her boss believe she'd been kidnapped by aliens. Even that might backfire, though. Knowing her geeky boss, he'd want to date her if he thought she might be carrying alien spawn. Ew.

  Okay, she might not have a burning excuse to talk to Mrs. Heart, but she still wanted
to. She desperately wanted to spill her guts to somebody. Maybe she wouldn't be that brave—visions of hovering physiologists danced in her head—but she dashed through the wet grass anyway and knocked on Mrs. Heart's door.

  Mrs. Heart's expression of surprise quickly changed to concern. “Ali! Goodness, child, don't stand there in the wet. Come in! I'll just go make some tea.” Mrs. Heart ushered her in the door and bustled off to the kitchen to fuss with the tea things. Ali entered the living room and took a seat in an overstuffed chair. She regretted not asking Rabbit if he knew Mrs. Heart now, but honestly, she'd had other things on her mind, her parents, for instance.

  Lot of help he'd been with them, she thought in exasperation. He'd whisked her off to that spa before she'd had the chance to ask anyone else questions, either.

  "Are you quite recovered from your indisposition, Ali? The last time we spoke you weren't feeling very well,” Mrs. Heart observed. “It can't be good for your health to dash around in the rain."

  Ali waved that off. “I'm fine, thank you. I wanted to tell you that I met your grandson. Rabbit,” Ali added, just to be specific. She watched carefully to see how Mrs. Heart would react.

  "Oh?” Mrs. Heart said calmly, then took a sip of tea. “How lovely."

  Ali frowned, having expected more than that. “It was lovely. Very unexpected, though."

  Mrs. Heart raised her brows in inquiry.

  Mildly frustrated, Ali prodded, “I never thought I'd run into him where I did."

  Mrs. Heart nodded. “That often happens, dear. Tell me what you think of him."

  For a moment Ali didn't know what to say. She'd expected fireworks, evasion ... something. “He's ... well, he's nice, but.... “She struggled to maintain her dignity as she spluttered, but finally burst out, “He lives in a mirror! The man plies me with wine and lives in a stinking make-believe world! How do you think I feel about him?"

  Mrs. Heart smiled. “Where he lives is less important than you might think. He's very handsome, isn't he?"