***
Ignore her. Make her want to leave.
The room trembled as a thousand clocks rang loud with the new hour. He stared at one in particular— a simple clock. No adornments, nothing about the small round pocket watch seemed particularly valuable.
He traced the grain seam, fingers gentle, the wood smooth from years (or was it decades? centuries? he could never remember anymore) of touching. Time. Always too much of it, and never enough.
It ticked on, endless, unceasing, unmerciful.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Unable to roll the hands back, unable to make it stop. Moving, always, always moving on and on and on. Marching forward in an endless cycle of time, time, time...
He drew his hand back, squeezing his eyes closed. Beautiful brown eyes filled his head. The scent of vanilla was so strong, he swore he could still smell it.
Satin skin, buttery brown, smooth and delicate. Hair as black as midnight. His body strained and he hardened. It made him sweat. Made him need.
He would not surrender. It was madness. Wonderland would say no and she would leave. As it’d always been.
But he’d never wanted another the way he did her. The moment he’d seen her, something inside him had quickened. Finally, he’d thought. Finally here. And that had confused him. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Her with the vanilla sunshine-y smile.
The widow’s peak, alluring, sexy, devilish. Beautiful, dangerous creatures, black widow spiders were. Luring you in with their beauty. Killing you without remorse.
“Dangerous creatures. Dangerous.” He closed his eyes, resting his head against the mantle. “Dangerous, dangerous beauty. Beauty. Beautiful. Alice,” his voice cracked.
She’d leave him. Like all the rest. He must make her go.
His spine stiffened, fingers clenched against his thigh. Did she think of him at all? Even a little? Beautiful, sane, wicked little Alice?
Tick.
Tock.
Time moved on.
Chapter 9
Alice jerked to a sitting position, tired, and just this side of pissy. Sunlight poured in through the window. She glanced around: her room was the same as it’d ever been.
Just a dream. Maybe, she’d call in sick. A horrible thing to do to Tabby, and it was only the second day of her grand Cupcakery opening.
With a loud sigh, she got up and headed to the shower. But when she reached the bathroom door, there was no bathroom. It was the most enormous and empty walk in closet she’d ever seen. It stretched for miles.
Not a dream. Or a dream within a dream, she thought of Hatter and her pulse sped. Where was he? Was he thinking about her?
She glanced down, she didn’t want him to see her in the same clothes, but there was nothing here. She wished she had some clothes, something sexy, something that would forever erase any memory of her grandmother from his mind.
And this time when she glanced up, a crushed velvet gown hung from a hanger in a shade of burgundy so deep it almost resembled blood. Velvet dresses had always made her think of fake wigs and hideous dollar store Halloween costumes. Plus, it looked several inches too long, but... she shrugged and slipped it off its rack. Beggars couldn’t afford to be picky. It was either this, or wear the same thing for three days.
She wrinkled her nose at the thought, took her clothes off, and was pulling the sleeves on when she grumbled, “give anything for a toothbrush and shower right about now.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth her tongue tingled with the sharp nip of mint. Her body shone with a wet sheen, and the scent of flowers filled the room.
She hadn’t bathed, and yet, she was clean. Man, if she could patent this back home, she’d make a killing.
The dress was a perfect fit. But she didn’t question it, it was Wonderland, nothing seemed to follow any conventional rules of reason. Most especially when it came to the Hatter.
The dress fell to mid-thigh. Thankfully, she had great legs. Her stomach fluttered and she wished she had a mirror.
A displaced shiver of air brushed against her back.
She turned and there was a mirror. Suddenly she wondered, was Wonderland responding? Was the wind right now humming and the land rolling? She strained to listen, but there was nothing but empty silence.
Her heart sank and she shook her head. Silly Alice… hoping for what couldn’t be. Of all the Alices in the world there was no way she’d be his perfect match. The odds were more astronomical then winning the lottery ten times straight. In all of history, she was his Alice. The thought gave her a pang and she had to take several deep breaths before she could shrug it off.
Alice studied her reflection. The dress was tight, but comfortable. Though, she didn’t like the sleeves. Instantly they vanished, exposing the long lean muscle of her bare arms.