The Iron Tiara

"Like I said, I can't be sure he was a tail. I'm usually pretty good at sensing when something is off, but I could be wrong. I mean, I have been distracted," he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. He pulled away from her then and quickly straddled her.

"Anthony," she looked up at him, her blue eyes serious, "I need some space. Some freedom."

"I know, baby. You can wait a couple more days, can't you?” he asked as he bent low to kiss her neck. “I still need some time to be sure. You've been with me two weeks. A few more days can't hurt."

He was right, and she knew he was only being cautious. It's not like he didn't take her out of the house or let her have the house to herself as long as she abided by his secret room rule. She sighed when she thought about the romantic night they'd spent under the stars two days ago. Anthony convinced her to go camping with him. She wasn't sure about camping at first. She'd never slept outside before. But she wanted to step outside of her comfort zone. Plus, deep down, she wanted to prove to him that she may have had a privileged childhood, but it didn't define her, and if the man she was falling in love with wanted her to experience a night in the wilderness, she would agree to it.

She was so happy she did. After finding a secluded spot and setting up their tent, Anthony took Christy on a hike, taking time to point out the different trees and plants. She was astonished at what he knew concerning which plants could kill you and which ones could heal you. He carried his crossbow as they walked and she was sorry to see him kill a deer which would be their dinner. Later, back at camp, Christy cut vegetables and fruit while Anthony skinned the animal and roasted the meat. Explaining that killing an animal should never be for sport, he packed up the remaining meat in coolers so it wouldn't be wasted.

"I've never eaten deer meat before," she'd told him, her eyes nervous as he removed a piece from the spit and fed it to her.

"It's called venison," he'd explained and nodded at the corn she'd boiled over the fire. She was grateful that her participation was limited to chopping and boiling. He used his knife to cut the kernels off the cob, and after she gathered them in a bowl, he teasingly asked, "Aren't you going to feed me?"

She dipped a spoon in the corn and fed it to him, smiling the whole time. "I guess this would be pretty hard to mess up. I hope you enjoy it," she'd told him laughing.

By the time they'd cleaned up from dinner and washed themselves off in a nearby freshwater lake, Anthony took some blankets from the tent. He wrapped a blue blanket around Christy and sat down in front of the fire with his own. They spent the rest of the night talking, and when it was time for bed, they were both surprised the mosquitoes weren't out. They forfeited their tent and laid under the stars. Before making love to her, he tossed their matching blue blankets back in the tent and grabbed a large white one.

"This is big enough to cover us both," he explained as he lay down next to Christy.

Her memory was interrupted when Anthony asked, "What are you thinking about?" He was still straddling her and looking down into her face. His long black hair was covering her breasts and he brushed it aside. "You're sighing," he told her.

"I was thinking about our camping trip the other day," Christy answered. She started laughing, and he gave her a curious look.

"I'm trying to make love to you, Christy," he said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt.

"I know," she said apologetically. "I was just thinking how I would've loved to have seen the expression on Detective Cochran's face when I called her the day before you took me camping. I don't mean that disrespectfully...I like Detective Cochran." Then she quickly added, "I know she had to be shocked."

Three days earlier Christy had decided to come clean with the woman about where she'd been staying. No amount of convincing by the seasoned detective could talk her into leaving Anthony. Anthony had been standing next to Christy and grabbed the phone from her.

"Christy is safer with me than she is at her own home or in your safe house." He then proceeded to tell the woman about the visit from Van's attorneys.

"Check them out," Anthony told her. "You find those men and they can lead you to Van."

Detective Cochran had paged Christy the next day and informed her that she did check out Dan Mikkelson and Pete Germaine and they didn't deny visiting Anthony to discuss payment terms on behalf of Van, but claimed not to know anything about the scheme Anthony described.

Christy’s expression went from happy to wistful, and Anthony once again broke into her thoughts. "I don't want to think about Detective Cochran right now," he said, giving her a smoldering look. He bent low and kissed her lazily. He started to make his way down her body when she stopped him. "Um...not a good idea," she told him.

"And why would that be?" he asked her between gentle bites to her stomach.

"It’s that time of the month," she told him matter-of-factly.

He looked up, and she was smiling. "Don't look so disappointed," she teased. "It gives me more time to practice on you."

He rolled over taking her with him. She was sitting on top of him looking down when he said, "You've already perfected it." He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. "But if you insist on practicing, I'm not going to stop you."

A little while later she followed him to the front door. "Why can't I go to the camp with you?" she asked, her disappointment evident.

"The camp is no place for a lady," he explained. "I've told you what goes on there, Owani."

She leaned against the doorjamb with her arms crossed and kicked at a pebble on the porch. Anthony had held nothing back when he told her about his criminal dealings and the motorcycle gang that had practically formed itself and fell under his authority. She had frightening memories of the Glades Motel, and couldn't imagine anything like that happening to her at Camp Sawgrass. Especially if she was with Anthony.

"I need to stop at the landscape office on my way back," he said. He kissed her and added, "How about a ride on the bike when I get home?"

She perked up. She'd never been on the back of a motorcycle. "Okay." She smiled. "I’ll finish my painting while you’re gone."

He heard her lock the door behind him as he headed for his truck. On his drive to the camp, he reflected on the woman who had become ingrained in his soul. He'd shared almost every aspect of his life with her, including his criminal activities that he was certain would segue into her sharing her deepest secrets. When she asked about the scar on his abdomen, he slipped about Veronique. He never mentioned that he and Veronique were lovers, only that she was a skilled surgeon who helped out at the camp when needed and had expertly sewn him up after he'd been in a knife fight.

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