Chapter 14

Jareth caught up to her at the bottom of the stairs. How, he found himself pondering, was he going to keep up with her when he had to use solid legs again and could not go through doors, walls, or windows? “Miranda, where are you racing off to?”

Randy threw her hands up. “I’ve been sitting up there being all quiet waiting for her to leave. I have a hundred things to do today.”

He looked to the window to watch the dust settle from the car her mother had sped away in. Did no one move slowly now? “A hundred? That seems a bit—”

“It’s a figure of speech, Jareth. I don’t actually have a hundred things to do.”

“Then why say it?” He watched her carefully unwrap his sword and place it back onto the table.

Shrugging, she tossed the towel on the couch. “I don’t know. I have to get my resume printed and dropped off today. Maybe I’ll give some to Jody, too. She runs into a lot of different people...” She sat down and turned on the computer, then began digging in the drawer. Shutting the top one, she opened the second drawer. Without looking at him she started talking again. “How long were you able to really hold me last night?”

He looked from the grip of his sword to her. “For quite some time, yet not enough.”

She spun the chair and gave him a speculative look. “So, is it longer each time?”

He reflected for a few moments. “It may truly be. I shall take care to check the time...if there is a next time.”

She grimaced. “Don’t say if. There will be a next time!” She shot him a small smile. “It was nice, though, being held.”

“It was my pleasure, and I truly mean that.” He watched her spin back to the desk. She seemed to be rifling through a drawer and typing something at the same time, yet mumbling in a hushed tone. “Can I be of assistance in any way?” he asked.

Frowning, she looked in the last drawer. “Uh, sure. Can you use the arrow keys to flip through the e-mails? I’m running upstairs to see if I put the printer cartridges up there.”

He stood up. “I shall attempt to.” He watched her flee from the room. Her speed was shocking today. In times before he had witnessed her being hurried, but not like she presently was. Shaking his head, he looked down to the screen. Hoping the answers sought would be yielded from one of the names in her “inbox,” he hovered a hand over the triangle on the letter board.

Randy came flying back into the room to see Jareth standing there looking down at the screen. She couldn’t place the expression on his face. Pain...sorrow...something in that neighborhood. “Jareth? What’s wrong?”

He glanced up toward her. “The fortune teller you sent word to yesterday has replied.”

“And?” She hurried around the desk and looked at the monitor.

“She sent a note to the old country and has got word back of a tale they speak of...a tale of a pirate thief and a gypsy family.”

She scanned the page until she got to the part he was talking about. “Huh.” She sat down and looked at the screen. Parts of it were completely ridiculous. “‘Evil pirate son,’ my butt!” She looked up at him. “There are two sides to every story, and this one has been circulating for two hundred years. The original could have said ‘handsome rogue pirate,’ for all we know.”

Glancing down at her upturned face, he nodded. “This is the truth of it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s ignore the descriptions and focus on the facts.”

“Yes.” He looked back to the screen. “It is indeed of my person they speak, is it not?”

She read through it again and nodded. “Unless another pirate took a family heirloom and refused to return it and then was cursed... Yep, I’d say it was your story.”

He paced the floor and looked down at his sword. “I was not aware it was an heirloom. Had I known, I would have returned it...with conditions.”

Getting up, she walked over so she could see his face. “And if the stupid gypsy witch had actually explained things instead of tricking you into sex to soften you up, she would have got it back and none of this would have happened.” She wasn’t sure she was even happy saying the last part. If none of it had happened, she wouldn’t have him now...or, she corrected herself, he wouldn’t be here, since she didn’t really have him—not in the way she wanted him.

Jareth continued to study the markings on his blade. There was a wee nick in the blade he had never managed to have taken out. He recalled how his arm had throbbed when his blade missed its target and clipped a steel rung. He looked to her. “The knowing is not of use. I cannot return the heirloom if I cannot travel, or even hold it. Nor do I know whom to return it to.”

She watched him for a moment. “Maybe the woman the e-mail came from can find out.”

“Is it possible?” He looked back to the computer.

“The tale had to come from somewhere, so if we dig deep enough we might be able to find out.” She stood and looked at the sword for a moment like he had. “Unless you know what it is you’ve never sought before?”

He shook his head. “I do not.”

“Alrighty then, fortune teller it is.” She dropped back into her chair and spun back to the keyboard. Typing quickly she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’m going to send this and then I have to run out.”

“To where?” He stood behind her again and watched how fast her fingers moved.

“I can’t find the printer cartridges, so I’m going to get some. I’ll only be gone about fifteen minutes. There’s a little computer shop in the next town.” She clicked send and turned to look at him. “Then we’ll work on figuring out that last line of the riddle.”

Jareth sighed. Had he not spent more than a hundred years trying to ascertain the meaning of that verse?

“Hey.” She waited until he looked at her. “We’ll get it. I love a good challenge.” She mimicked one of his winks, even though she knew she wouldn’t look dead sexy doing it like he did.

“Very well, little one. I shall await your return.” He gave her a half-felt smile.

She jumped up and grabbed her purse from the couch. “I’ll be back.”

h Jareth watched with no more than a hand-width between his face and the printer machine. Yet another fascinating creation, he thought. Miranda typed into the letter board and the words were spit out from this machine as she had typed them. Truly amazing.

“Jareth.”

He straightened and looked about until he found her. She stood holding a bag of sorts. “Yes?”

Randy swung the bag back and forth in her hand. “I bought you something.”

“You did, truly?” How long had it been since someone had given him a gift? Long before he sailed his own ship, he surmised.

Randy nodded and reached in to pull out a pair of black trousers. “I kind of guessed the size.” Looking from him to the pants, she nodded. “I think they should fit.”

“You purchased trousers for me?” He went over and looked at them, wanting to accept them for the mere reason she had gotten them for him. He looked at the black cloth and was quite pleased with the gift.

“Jeans, not trousers. I thought maybe when you get solid again, you could wear them.” She frowned. “Do you think they’ll stay on you when you fade away again?”

“I do not know.” He looked down at his present attire. “I am sorely tired of seeing the same attire for this long on my body.”

“I thought you might be.” She set the jeans on the couch and pulled two shirts from the bag. “I didn’t know what kind of shirt you’d like, so I got two.” She shook out the white one. “A T-shirt and”—she tossed it on top of the jeans and held up a black longer-sleeved one—“this. You can wear it over the t-shirt if you want.”

He studied the top in her hand and eagerly wanted to put it on. “They are fine, Miranda. Many thanks.” He grinned. “I shall put them on the next time I have hands to do so with.”

She could see from his eyes he was happy with her choices. She bit her lip. “I’ll put them in the bathroom, okay?”

Nodding, she followed her as she picked them up. “I wished to ask, regarding the tub...”

Stopping, she looked at him. “What about it?”

He tilted his head to the side and searched for the right word. “The...shower fall, how does that work?”

“You want to know how to take a shower?”

“Yes.” He followed her into the bathroom. “I experienced the creation of it and thought it to be a divine thing.”

Setting the clothes on the counter, she pulled the drape back. She twisted the large tap on. “You set the temperature of your water here, so it’s not too hot or cold.” She turned to see him nodding. “Pull the curtain back a bit, so you don’t soak the floor.” She pulled the shower curtain and then reached around it. “Then pull this thing here, and voila!”

He noted each thing she had done. “I would like to feel that sometime.”

“If I hadn’t bathed in that many years, I’d lose my mind.”

He frowned at her. “It has been close to that at some moments.”

“I need food.” She turned the shower off and quickly dried off her hands. “After I eat, I need to run out again to mail that stack of resumes. Hopefully some freelance work will fall in my lap, then we’ll buckle down and find that gypsy’s family. Does that work for you?”

“Very well, in fact.” He, for once, was not going to puzzle on the exact meaning of what she had said as he looked at the clothes with longing in his heart before he followed her out of the room.

~

Perhaps, he thought with a warm feeling moving through him, it was a good thing Randy had not been here when his flesh returned to him. He dried his face in such soft linen he wanted to sigh; he very much enjoyed the shower. It was a truly spectacular experience. Soaps, clothes, and bottles of fine-smelling liquids.

Setting the linen down, he looked to the clothes again. He had tried twice to work the jeans and was at a loss. He heard the door close to the front room of the house. He smiled; Miranda could show him how to put these odd things on. He grabbed the jeans and opened the bathroom door.

“Miranda, I am not—” He glanced up from the jeans to see a woman—not Miranda—standing inside her door but a rather tall, light-haired woman. He offered her his most charming smile. “Hello.” She continued to stand there with her jaw dropped open and her eyes huge. He was uncertain what he was to say as to why he was standing in Miranda’s home with a small linen cloth wrapped about his waist.

The door opened behind the silent woman and Miranda came in. She stopped abruptly and looked up at the woman.

“Jody? When...” She looked over at Jareth standing outside the bathroom door, jeans hanging from his hand and a white towel—a small white towel—wrapped around a mouth-watering tight waist. His chest was bare, beads of water from his hair dripped down it. Had she ever seen a more tasty set of abs in her life? She didn’t think so. She worked her way...slowly...up to his face to see he knew exactly what she was thinking. He winked at her, snapping her back to the problem at hand. She turned her head back to her drooling, stunned friend, Jody. “Jody?”

Jody turned with her mouth still hanging open. She shut it with a snap and looked back over at Jareth.

Randy turned to Jareth. “Could you give us a moment, Jareth?”

He inclined his head, but not before sending her a devilish look. “Most certainly, little one.” He smiled widely at her gawking friend. “Miss.” Turning, he stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Ohmygod! Randy! You’ve been hiding out here having sex with a cover model and you didn’t tell me?” She looked back to the bathroom.

“Seriously, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Jody grabbed her arm and half-dragged her closer. “Pictures! Take hundreds of pictures and sell them on the Net. You’ll be a millionaire!” She looked at the bathroom door again. “I could take them if—”

“I think we’ll skip that, but thanks.” She looked at her for a moment. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

Jody opened her mouth and then closed it. “I can’t remember,” she said quietly.

Raising her eyebrows, Randy looked at her. “Okay, then.”

Jody backed toward the door. “I’ll go, but call me...with details later, please!”

“Absolutely.” She stood there and watched her usually graceful friend back into the door and then fumble with it to leave, with one last glance toward the bathroom.

Shaking her head, Randy turned and almost ran to the bathroom. Jareth leaned against the counter, still wearing nothing but the towel, with his arms crossed over his chest. She sighed; only men in magazines ever looked this good, not ones who stood half-naked in her bathroom. “Hi.”

He smirked at her and pushed off the counter. “I did not mean to frighten your friend.”

Randy couldn’t stop a hand from running down his still damp chest. “She wasn’t frightened...just in awe.”

“I wanted your assistance with the jeans, yet now that your hand is on me, I’ve no wish for clothes.” He leaned down and buried his face in her soft hair. Reaching around her, he lifted her up to his body and turned toward the mirror. He set her upon the counter and searched her eyes.

“How long have you been...” Her brain lost the words as his lips brushed against her neck.

“It happened just as you took your leave.” He nipped the tender flesh of her throat.

“Dammit! Why can’t it happen at the right time?” She licked a drop of water from just under his collarbone. He straightened.

“If you do not feel we have time, I shall get clothed.” He watched her eyes. “I have waited these long years, little one. A short while more I can stand.”

She bit her lip and looked up into his hungry eyes. “I don’t know... I mean, I really, really want to, but I don’t want you to fade away right in the middle.”

He dropped a rough kiss to her mouth. His tongue pried her lips open and thrust into her sweet mouth. She clung to his neck and grasped his hair again. He pulled his mouth away.

“You are deserving of something more than hasty—”

Putting her hand over his mouth, she stopped him. “Don’t start with that sexy-as-hell voice. I won’t make it through this time.” She took a deep breath. “I will bitch about this later, but put the clothes on and we’ll go see if you want to try a taste of something to eat.” She patted his chest so he’d step back.

Stepping back, he unwillingly releasing her. “I cannot work the fastening on the jeans,” he finally said as he picked them up. He pulled the towel from his waist and tossed it onto the countertop. Pulling the stiff material onto his legs, and hesitantly up over other areas, he turned back to her. “Do I fit this part together first and then the slide or—” His words stopped when he glanced at the look in her eyes. If it were possible, they would have consumed him wholly right then. The expression on her face caused his body to tighten further and the new cloth against him seemed full.

“I’ve a need to take a taste of you with me, little Miranda. Would you oblige a long starvin’ pirate a taste?” He had stepped back to her and lifted her face to gaze without distraction into those dark lusty eyes. She nodded her head slowly. He smiled down at her and pulled her gently from the counter. “A favor owed to you, love, for bringin’ life back to me.” He kissed her as he reached and freed the button from her own jeans. With steady hands he was able to slide them open.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and dug into his hair as he slid them free of her hips. Straightening he lifted her to sit upon the countertop. Pulling her soft legs free, he lowered his mouth to glide his tongue down one leg. She sucked in air quickly. Smiling at her he straightened again and dropped her jeans to the floor. She sat there with a pair of her small undergarments on—white, this time—and he could not have been more pleased with her choice.

Dropping slowly to his knees before her, he lightly gripped each knee and gently opened them. He kissed his way up one leg, stopping only when he reached the very edge of the cloth covering her. Moving, he did the same to the other leg and grinned when her hand clenched into his hair and she leaned back to the mirror.

Gliding his tongue around the top edge of the cloth, he whispered, “It’s a taste of your passion I need to have, love.” Her chest rose and fell but she still didn’t speak. He took that as permission and boosted her to the edge of the counter to balance in his hands, bringing her legs to drop over his shoulders as he did. “Move it out the way,” he growled, feeling his own passions rising.

Her small hand reached down and pulled the cloth aside to bare her swollen, wet flesh to him. A shudder went through her as he ran his tongue little by little up the length of her heat. He flicked it a few times and she gasped loudly. His own needs drove him to a heated fury swiftly; her taste drove him wild with desire.

Driving his tongue into her again, he withdrew it slowly. “Moan for me, love, let me taste.” He bit lightly just above her throbbing need and then licked to soothe. Finding the spot he sought, he suckled against it until her legs twisted around his head. Her fingers grasped a handful of hair next to his scalp as she started to moan loudly. He drove her fast to the peak, wanting her to find pleasure directly.

Randy tried to control the shaking in her legs that were wrapped around his head now. “I. . .” She couldn’t talk yet. Even her head was buzzing. He gently moved her back on the counter to sit more securely. She looked up at him, still fighting for a breath. His eyes were practically swallowing her whole. “How much time”—she swallowed again—“is left?” He just continued to look at her with a slight shake of his head. She sat up and ran her hands down over his waist. He caught her wrist and held it still in an iron grip. “Jareth. . .let me.” His eyes searched her own.

“I don’ want to leave without finishin’.” He ran his hand into her hair and held her head so she looked at him. “If I were to fade. . .” She placed a small hand over his mouth.

“Let me, it’s only fair.” She slid off the counter and found her legs weren’t all there yet. Pulling her arm where he still held her she turned him to lean back against the counter.

He let her lean him back against the counter, then pulled her tight into him so she couldn’t continue. “There’s not enough time, love.” He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her roughly.

When he lifted his head, he brushed his thumb over her lips once before pushing her gently away. “Go. I need a small space of time alone with my thoughts.”

Randy wanted to cry. She didn’t want to leave him like that as he faded back to the way he had been.

“Please.” His voice was hoarse.

She nodded, picked up her jeans, and left without argument. Leaning against the outside of the bathroom door, she closed her eyes, then opened them and grit her teeth. There was only one way to keep him whole. She hobbled toward the computer as she pushed her legs into her jeans.