A Christmas Phantasie Read online

  A CHRISTMAS PHANTASIE

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, DECEMBER 2003

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  PO Box 787

  Hudson, OH 44236-0787

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-733-6

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  A CHRISTMAS PHANTASIE © 2003 KIT TUNSTALL

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Ann Richardson

  Cover art by Darrell King

  A CHRISTMAS PHANTASIE

  Kit Tunstall

  Chapter One

  Jakarta stumbled when she and Teague entered the lobby of Castle Phantasie. If not for his supporting arm cradling hers, she might have fallen over in shock at the sight that met her eyes. She couldn’t help gazing with childlike wonder at the Christmas tree dominating the lobby. It must have been twenty feet tall, but the arched ceiling of the room easily accommodated its height.

  Even more stunning than its stature were the tree’s decorations. Real candles in brass holders, numbering in the hundreds, dotted the branches. Interwoven among the lights were thick bunches of white garland, along with antique ivory and brass bulbs. The angel at the top was too far up to distinguish its features, but it wore an intricate scarlet and ivory dress. To show up as well as it did, the tree topper must have been at least three or four feet in height.

  She turned to Teague, giving him an impulsive hug. “This is fabulous, darling.” When he had promised to give her a Christmas to remember, he hadn’t taken the oath lightly.

  He put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Strands of her ebony hair brushed his cheek when he bent his head to kiss her. “Wait until you see the room. It’s their Deluxe Phantasie suite.”

  A surge of excitement filled her at the prospect. As she walked with Teague to check in, in her mind’s eye, she envisioned yards of soft carpet, decadent fabrics, and antique furnishings.

  The process went quickly, handled by an efficient blond German man who spoke English with a crisp accent. After taking their pertinent information, he entrusted them to a bellhop. The young man took Jakarta’s carryon bag and led them up the stone staircase.

  Jakarta admired the castle with wide eyes. It was obvious the owner had made every attempt to restore Castle Phantasie to its original splendor, wherever possible. The details were exquisite, down to the candleholders mounted on the wall flanking the staircase, complete with red, holly-scented candles, wreathed with real holly leaves, and currently not lit.

  The climb up the stairs seemed to take forever, and she became aware of the chill that had settled into her bones during the drive from the airport in the van. Even her new ski jacket didn’t do much to warm her.

  She slanted a look at Teague, noting the flush of color in his wind-kissed cheeks. His hair was damp from the snow that had melted in it. The light cast by the crystal chandeliers spaced every few feet on the vaulted ceiling brought out red-gold highlights in his honey-brown hair. He looked cold too, but she easily thought of ways they could quickly warm up each other.

  “Just this last flight,” said their bellhop several flights of stairs later. “There’s an elevator, but this is the best way to see the castle.”

  Jakarta breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the trek was almost over, and that she could use the elevator from now on. Apparently, even chasing after a classroom of forty-two six-year-olds all day hadn’t given her the stamina to tackle all these stairs.

  A couple of minutes later, she decided it had been worth every single step to arrive at their room. The young man had swiped an electronic card through the box mounted beside the ornately carved wooden door and now stood back to let them enter. “There are only two tower rooms,” he said, as they slipped past him. “These suites are always booked, sometimes years in advance.”

  Jakarta lifted a brow in Teague’s direction. “How long ago did you make this reservation?”

  He squirmed, appearing embarrassed. “Last Thanksgiving.”

  She flinched, abruptly remembering last November had been the first time he proposed to her. Had he booked this room with the anticipation of honeymooning here?

  The thought was uncomfortable, and she allowed the room’s beauty to distract her from it. It was a circle, complete with two tall windows that would have been without glass when the castle was first constructed. The stone walls could have been original, but they were well maintained if they were.

  While Teague tipped their attendant, Jakarta wandered deeper into the sitting room, paused by the roaring fire to strip off her heavy gloves, which she stuffed into her pockets, and brought her hands closer to the flame. A white fur rug—appearing soft and inviting—draped strategically in front of the fireplace, was the perfect contrast to the black carpet. The furniture wasn’t the antique style she had anticipated, but modern, covered by gleaming white fabric, and didn’t detract from the aged atmosphere of the annular room.

  Sliding glass doors, set directly into the rounded side of the outer wall, caught her attention. Jakarta walked over to them, taking a moment to figure out how they worked. The doors opened like any other sliding glass door, but curved around the orbicular shape of the room, instead of sliding straight.

  Beyond the glass doors was a balcony. She stepped outside, immediately huddling deeper into her coat, as the cold wind tried to burrow inside. Her bare hands instantly felt chapped by the temperature, and fat snowflakes stung her cheeks. She walked to the thin metal rail and looked down.

  She stepped back when vertigo seized her. They were at the highest point of Castle Phantasie, and the ground was a long way down. From this vantage point, the mountain framing the castle seemed accessible merely by reaching out to touch it.

  She turned around and went back inside, just as Teague closed the door behind the man and dropped the electronic key on the gleaming black table by the door. She went to him, putting her arms around his waist. “This is fabulous, honey.” Tears welled in her eyes, thinking about the trouble he must have gone to in planning this trip.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He stepped away long enough to unzip his coat and pull it off. “Let me take yours too.”

  She shrugged off the damp ski jacket and handed it to him. He hung both on the black coat rack by the door before turning back to her. She smiled. “Let’s see what’s behind curtain number one.”

  He nodded, and they walked together over to the partition that divided the room. It wasn’t so much a suite as it was a studio, with only one wooden door, which must conceal the bathroom. Teague slid back the fabric partitions separating the sleeping area from the sitting room space to reveal the bedroom. It was sparse, with only a large dresser in the same gleaming black wood as the rest of the suite, and a rack for hanging clothes.

  Only the bed saved it from being mundane. An image of the two of them rolling on the snowy white fur coverlet draped over the massive round bed caused her breath to catch in her throat. She looked at Teague, noting his flush had deepened, and his breathing was ragged. She knew he was sharing her thoughts, but that didn’t surprise her. After two years together, their minds were often accordant. “I’ve never slept on a round bed before.”

  Teague gave a husky chuckle. “You won’t be doing much sleeping for the next few days, my love.”

  No, she didn’t imagine she would. A sigh escaped her, as she found herself wishing they could just stay i
n the bedroom. Their rapport was perfect there, unlike other aspects of their lives. Did he feel it too, that they were drifting apart? Was this trip nothing more than a last-ditch effort to salvage their relationship?

  A knock at the door interrupted her morose thoughts. “Who’s that?”

  “Probably dinner. I requested it be brought to our room tonight, since I anticipated we would both be tired from the long flight.” He frowned. “I hope that was okay with you? I wasn’t trying to make the decision for you.”

  Jakarta smiled, and her dark-brown eyes softened. “That’s fine.” She searched for a way to express how touched she was that he would worry about making such a small decision for her, but the moment passed when he walked to the door to admit room service. Again, tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed them away, impatient with her melancholy thoughts and tendency to cry tonight.

  Besides, Teague wouldn’t be expecting gratitude. For him, offering her a choice in everything was an essential part of helping her heal. She knew he held the hope that if she could completely get beyond the past with Darien, then she could move onto a future with him. Thus far, she hadn’t been able to convince him that she didn’t want any sort of permanency in the future. A sinking sensation filled her stomach, because she suspected when he accepted that, he would end things. Teague wanted more, deserved more, than she could ever give him.

  Chapter Two

  Jakarta trailed a finger of her left hand across the china plate, getting the last bit of cream. “Those pastries were to die for,” she said, bringing her finger to her mouth to lick off the topping.

  Teague intercepted her hand, taking her finger to his mouth. A quiver of delight ran down her spine when he drew the digit between his lips and cleansed her finger with his tongue. He drew out his strokes, licking her finger with small swipes long after when it would have been clean. Finally, he removed her finger, but held her hand, pressing it against his chest. “Delicious.”

  She pretended to pout. “I know. That’s why I wanted the last bite.”

  His blue eyes took on a smoky tinge, and his voice lowered an octave. “I wasn’t talking about the cream.”

  Just the timbre of his voice and that look in his eyes caused her pussy to flood with moisture. Her nipples beaded in her bra, and the lace was suddenly abrasive. She was ready for him to make love to her.

  He felt in his pocket for something, and her pulse skyrocketed. He must be looking for a condom, which meant he planned to fuck her right there before the fire, on the white fur rug, where they’d had their impromptu carpet picnic. She couldn’t wait to feel the soft fur against her back, Teague against her front, and his cock sliding deep inside her.

  Her erotic thoughts fled when he removed his hand from his pocket, and she saw the familiar diamond ring between his thumb and middle finger. She tried to tug her hand away, as he poised the band over her ring finger. Why did he persist in pushing this issue? “Teague,” she said in a steely tone, meant to act as a warning.

  He looked up from the ring and her finger. “Why don’t you just try it on, to see how it fits? You might like it.”

  She succeeded in pulling away from his hold. Jakarta shook her head. “No. I already know how I’ll feel about wearing any ring again. It’s a prison, Teague…maybe symbolic, but it’s still a sign of ownership, of possession. I won’t be bound again.”

  His eyes darkened further, but not with passion. He dropped the ring on the floor. “Fine. You don’t have to wear a ring. I don’t need that. I’ll take you as my wife, any way I can get you.”

  She shook her head. “Why is the piece of paper making it all official so damned important, if the ring isn’t?”

  “Because at least then I’d know you want more than the moment with me.” He got to his feet. “I love you, Jak, you know that.”

  She nodded. She did know that. Unlike her, he was free with the words. The few times she had managed to express her emotions, the words came out stilted, lacking even a hint of the depth of love she felt for him.

  He paced a small circle around the rug. “I want to spend my life with you.”

  “I want to be with you too.”

  His mouth twisted. “But you want an escape option, should things not go as expected.”

  She bowed her head, not meeting his eyes. Her voice was stiff when she said, “I do love you, Teague. It’s just—”

  He sighed. “I know what the problem is. Don’t you think it’s time to let go of the past?”

  Her eyes widened. “I have! Do you know how hard it was for me to start seeing you? I wanted to call off that first date, but I didn’t.” She lifted her head, trying to convey her earnestness when their gazes locked. “I was terrified to move in with you three months ago, but I did it. Why do you have to keep pushing me? Why can’t you be happy with what we have?”

  Her heart broke when she saw his shoulders fall. He turned his back to her, and she knew the argument was over for now. It wasn’t gone though. The issue hovered between them all the time, tainting every moment they spent together. Half the time, she was so tense about another impending proposal that she couldn’t relax. She had trouble sleeping now, and she knew it was the same for him. Until he brought up the future talk, and kept bringing it up, her sleep had finally been nightmare-free for the first time in years.

  “I think I’ll go to bed,” he said with an utter lack of emotion. “We’ll want to hit the slopes early tomorrow.”

  She forced her voice to sound pleasant and polite. “Yes, I’m sure we will.” She winced at the stiff exchange, sensing the chasm opening between them had just widened a few more inches. Castle Phantasie might be a dream come true for a vacation, but it might also be the last stop at the end of their relationship’s road. Why couldn’t he be happy with the moment and forget about the future?

  He lay beside her, casting a glance at the luminous hands of the clock on the dresser every few minutes. The numbers seemed to change with infuriating slowness. Jakarta’s even breathing indicated she was asleep, but she had required the aid of a Valium to get there. She had claimed jet lag and the time difference prompted the medication, but he knew it was because his proposal and the subsequent argument had troubled her.

  Teague balled his hands into fists around the thick fur cover. He had promised himself he wouldn’t ask her to marry him the very night they arrived, but the moment had felt right. Holding her hand to his heart, feeling the connection that sizzled between them, he had assumed she couldn’t possibly deny him yet again.

  He sighed, finally rolling over onto his side, with his back toward her. He knew her refusal wasn’t about him, but her rejection still hurt. At the heart of the matter was her lack of trust in him and in the strength of their bond. She couldn’t make the next logical leap-of-faith that would take them to the future he craved. He wanted to know she would always be there by his side. He wanted to watch her belly swell with his children, and to grow old with her, while she seemed content with living moment-to-moment.

  That wasn’t enough for him any longer. If she couldn’t trust him, their relationship was doomed. That’s why he fervently hoped his plans for tomorrow night would work. If she felt threatened and left him, he knew he wouldn’t get her back, because she would never trust him again.

  But then, did she really trust him now?

  Chapter Three

  Her muscles ached in places she had forgotten she had. A day on the slopes, skiing down the Alps, had shown her just how out of shape she was. Jakarta shot a glance at Teague, as he stripped off his outer coat and hung it on the coat rack. He didn’t seem more than a little winded. Obviously, his tri-weekly trips to the gym and weekly squash games with one of the partners in his law firm had prepared him adequately for a day of rigorous activity.

  It had been fun, of course. It was heady to plunge down the mountain, knowing she was at the mercy of nature, with only her own wits and two ski poles to save her if something went wrong.

  Still, that was enough adv
enture for her. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and they were due to fly out in the early hours of Christmas Day, to make it back in time for dinner with his parents. She would be content to spend the next two days sipping hot chocolate in the lobby by the huge fireplace that dominated one whole wall, basking in the candlelight from the tree.

  Better yet, she’d rather spend the rest of their time in this fabulous room, making love in front of their smaller, cozier fireplace or on the round bed that was surprisingly comfortable and similar to a normal bed.

  She hesitated to suggest that plan, not certain what his reception would be. From the time they woke that morning, he had acted as if last night hadn’t happened, but she could tell by his bleary eyes that he hadn’t slept, and by the way he sometimes studied her peripherally, that he hadn’t forgotten her latest refusal.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. I’m too tired to be hungry.”

  He nodded. “Why don’t I send for a bottle of wine and a plate of cheese, and we’ll relax for a while? Maybe later, we’ll want to have dinner in one of the three restaurants.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” She rolled her tight shoulders. “I think I’ll have a hot bath while we wait for the wine.”

  Teague waved his hand. “You have plenty of time.”

  When she emerged an hour later, freshly bathed and still warm from the Jacuzzi, wearing only a white silk robe, she found Teague sprawled across the overstuffed sofa. Two glasses of wine were on the table in front of him, as was a medium-sized gift box, wrapped with a green satin bow. She frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Scharzhofberger Auslese. It’s not the most expensive wine Castle Phantasie stocks, but it’s a respectable vintage—”

  Jakarta rolled her eyes. “Not the wine. I’m talking about the box.”