turned her attention to Ashton once more. “Ashton,” she began slowly. “You take pleasure in stirring me up, don't you?”
He turned up the wattage on his smile even more. “Yeah, but not the way I'd like,” he responded in a husky voice, full of hidden promises.
Netherland shook her head, wondering what on earth she was going to do with this man. “It's time we had a long talk to straighten out a few misconceptions, don't you think?”
“What sort of misconceptions?”
“Evidently you think that if you keep showing up here each night, you'll finally wear down my resistance, and I'll consent to go out with you. It won't work.”
Ashton lifted a brow. “It won't?”
“No. So stop wasting your time. Any of the women here would jump at the chance to go out with you.”
“But not you?”
“No, not me. I thought I had made myself clear about the reasons I won't get involved with you. It's nothing against you personally, but I have this hang-up about military men. I thought I had explained that.”
He nodded. She had but what she didn't know was that her hang-up didn't matter. Their destinies were entwined. He shifted around on the bar stool to face her. “How you feel about us getting involved doesn't matter anymore,” he said softly.
Netherland lifted her dark brow in surprise. “It doesn't?”
“No. Because it will happen.”
Netherland's forehead bunched in a frown. She couldn't believe anyone could be this stubborn. “No, it won't happen, Ashton, because I won't let it.”
“You won't be able to stop it, Netherland.”
Netherland's stomach made a sudden flutter of dread that she quickly dismissed. Although Ashton was proving to be quite difficult, she didn't for one minute believe that he would physically harm her in any way. He was a marine colonel, for heaven's sake! Having been surrounded all of her life by military men, she knew they—and marines in particular—believed in a strict code of honor.
The silence between them lengthened, and the look in his eyes was remarkably determined. “And why won't I be able to stop it?” she finally asked him.
Ashton hesitated for a long moment before answering. “I had a vision.”
“A vision?” Netherland chuckled, thinking he meant it as a joke. The look on his face indicated he hadn't. She sobered quickly. After a brief awkward silence she asked, “This vision…was about me?”
Ashton ran a slow, assessing gaze over her before answering. “Yes.”
His gaze was like an intimate caress. Netherland was glad she was sitting down because her knees began to feel like rubber. “And what was this vision about?” She somehow managed a smile. She wanted to make light of their conversation but Ashton was too serious.
Ashton stared at Netherland. He sighed before taking a deep breath, needing to reorder his thoughts and answer her question. He'd decided to only tell her about the first one of his visions about her. He didn't think she was ready to know about the triplets just yet. “The vision I had indicated that our spirits and souls would be joined as one. In other words, you will be my wife and I, your husband. For always.”
Netherland looked at Ashton as if he'd spoken a foreign language. She then stiffened her back and gave him a look that would have fried a lesser man's soul. “Your vision was wrong. I'm not marrying anyone ever again. And I definitely wouldn't think about marrying someone in the military.”
Ashton watched her, frowning. Evidently she didn't get it. It no longer mattered what she wanted. Their futures together were set. “We will marry, Netherland.” Upon seeing her anger increase he sighed deeply once again, thinking it was time to give her the facts. “According to my family's history, Netherland, my great-great-grandfathers from both my African-American side and my Native American side had tribal mystical powers to see into the future. These powers were passed down to various members of the family.”
The seriousness in both Ashton's tone and his eyes made Netherland uncomfortable. “Are you saying you can foresee the future?”
“No, but I have, on occasion, had visions that have turned out to be true.” He didn't want to tell her that with his first vision he hadn't acted quick enough and because of it he'd lost a good friend. It had been during one of his special military assignments as part of the marines' Force Recon Unit.
Ashton watched as Netherland shook her head and her manicured fingertips tapped slowly on the bar's countertop. He couldn't help but notice that the red of her nails matched the succulent coloring of her lips, and he immediately realized it was a definite turn-on. Not that he wasn't turned on by her already. As far as he was concerned, Netherland Brooms was in a class all by herself.
As he continued to watch her, getting even more turned on by the way she was nervously gnawing on her bottom lip, he knew that she was thinking about what he'd just said and trying to come up with a rebuttal. She finally met his gaze once again.
“Ashton?” Netherland said with what little patience she had left.
“Yes?”
She paused and took a deep breath. “I hear what you're saying but I'm not buying it. I can't. I don't discount that you may believe what you're saying, but I have to assure you that what you're proposing won't happen.”
Ashton nodded. “I understand,” he said sympathetically. He knew the understanding of mystical powers was hard for most people to understand and accept. He'd had a problem believing so himself until he'd been shown otherwise.
“And what do you understand, Ashton?”
“I understand how it would be hard to believe. But everything I've told you is true, Netherland. You and I will get married. You can't continue to fight what will be.”
“No.”
“Yes. I didn't want to break things to you this way. I wanted to court you properly, take you out and give us a chance to get to know each other. But you've made those plans difficult, near impossible. So the matter has now been taken out of your hands.” Ashton heard Netherland's sharply indrawn breath and saw her body tense.
“What do you mean?” she asked softly.
He leaned toward her. Twin dimples indented his bronze-colored features as a slow smile spread across his lips. “It means you should start planning a wedding. And I'll make plans for the wedding night,” he said softly.
Unexpected warmth rode up Netherland's legs, beginning at her toes, and settled in her center. She inhaled deeply. She had to pull herself together. Ashton Sinclair was almost too much for her to handle. The soft huskiness of his voice and the determined intensity in his eyes stirred something to life deep within her.
“You're wrong. There won't be a wedding,” Netherland finally said firmly, looking at Ashton with a deep frown on her face.
He stood. His gaze was intent. He reminded her of her brother Dakota when he was hell-bent on having his way. “Yes, there will. You can bet Sisters on it. Good night, Netherland.”
Netherland
