Glad I didn’t.
“Who, um … who do you think you’re talking to Lucian?” It’s uncanny the way this guy’s smile never falters, even when it’s clear I’ve slapped him in the face with insult. “Do you think you’re talking to one of your father’s employees? This shit-show, as you called it, can bury you without anyone noticing you’re gone.”
“Then, why haven’t you yet?” With a smirk, I tip my head. “Oh. That’s right. Because the funding only lasts so long as there is an heir. Meaning, it dies when I die. You have some very powerful connections, no doubt, but face it, no one was as committed as my father.” Slipping my hands in my pockets, I take another step toward him, invading his personal space. “Don’t ever threaten me again.”
Clearing his throat, he steps back. “Very well. Quarterly meetings. That’s all I ask. And the occasional medical update. You don’t have to participate in the experimental studies.”
“I’ll think about it.” I pat him on the shoulder, catching his flinch, and exit the room.
There was a time this place weaved nightmares like a spider’s web, always present on the edge of my brain, waiting to wrap me up in its terrifying fibers.
Now, it can’t touch me.
When I finally reach my car, I find two texts from Rand on my phone. At first, I think he’s going to respectfully rail into me for what he’d surely consider another disastrous meeting, but his second text instructs me to check my email. When I open it, I find the remaining report that I requested of him last week. The more extensive research into Isa’s past.
One of the documents is a police report describing the attack at the party, mostly true to what she narrated, but there’s something new.
Something I had my suspicions about.
Something she’s managed to keep hidden away.
I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I flip through the other attached documents: therapists notes from her weekly sessions.
My raven beauty is far more dangerous than I imagined.
Darkness settles over the manor as I make my way up the staircase, the anticipation burning through me, even after a three hour flight. The box tucked beneath my arm is a gift, and one I spent far too much time choosing, just before I left Vermont.
The door to Isa’s room is closed, and when I click it open, the lights are off inside. Cracking it open just enough to slip through, I find her sleeping form stretched out on the bed, the sight of her stirring a sinister craving for soft moans, nails, and teeth. Coming to a stand alongside her bed, I set the box aside and lean down to kiss along the smooth curve of her neck.
A twitch of movement, and she startles awake, flipping onto her back. Silvery bands of moonlight shimmer across her face, drawing my attention to full pouty lips I want to bite.
I’m convinced she’s my punishment from God. My curse.
A forbidden touch.
A stolen kiss.
My temptation in the flesh.
As I lean in to kiss her, soft, warm lips greet mine, pulling me into fantasies of keeping her all to myself. My own little doll, just like the clusterfuck collection my mother keeps. Everything inside of me begs to resist, knows too well not to get swept up in the illusion of this, but the enticement is too strong. She’s fast become a weakness, a preoccupation I can’t seem to shake, and a dangerous gamble for a man with as many enemies as my father has amassed in the Blackthorne name over the years.
I push off her, grabbing the box I left at the foot of the bed, and her eyes widen at the sight of it.
“Another gift? Lucian …”
“Open it.”
With a small bit of hesitation, she tears at the thick, red ribbon and lifts the lid of the box to reveal sheer, white lingerie within. I watch her surprise dissolve into a demure sort of smile, and she lifts the skimpy lace panties and matching bralette.
“You want me to put this on now?”
“No. Not yet. I want you to come with me.” I reach down for her, and help her to her feet, drinking in the sight of her in nothing more than a thin white T-shirt and a pair of shorts.
“You said expendable. Should I throw on some pants?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Shoes?”
“Shoes, if you want. It’s a walk across the yard to the water.”
“Water?” Glancing back toward the few sandals and the pair of mucks lined against the wall, she shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”
Taking her hand in mine, I lead her out of the room, down the hallway. A heavy stillness hangs on the air, as everyone seems to be asleep.
Except for Sampson, of course. He greets the two of us in the foyer, his tail wagging, as Isa pauses to pet him.
“He’s taken a liking to you, I see.”
Kneeling down to the floor, she lifts her chin, allowing him to lick her jawline. “And I’ve decided he’s not the mean and scary monster I first met.”
“Funny what happens when you take the time to get to know someone. I’ve decided the same thing about you.”
With that signature chuckle of hers, she rises to her feet. “Where are you taking me?”
“I figured, since you so graciously showed me your favorite place yesterday, I’ll show you mine.” Giving a light tug of her arm, I lead her out the front entrance and down the familiar path toward the knoll. The moon is full and high in the sky, illuminating the well-worn path across the yard. I twist to see Isa looking around, her expression guarded, as if she’s waiting for something to swoop down at her. The manor is always somewhat eerie, but at night, it almost seems as if the shadows come alive.
Once at the threshold of trees, I halt and tap my shoulder. “C’mon. On my back.”
“What?”
“The branches will tear up your feet. Hop on.”
Taking hold of my shoulders, she does, and I wrap smooth, toned legs around my body as I grip the bottoms of her thighs and trudge through the brush.
The small copse of trees opens up to the path downward, along the perimeter of the cave. A cool breeze mingles with the warm summer air, creating a slight chill. The incessant crash of the waves takes me back to years ago, when I sat in this cave for hours at a time. I set her down onto the soft sand and remove my coat to wrap around her, which she accepts appreciatively.
The tide has begun to rise, but not yet to the point of filling the cave. I toss away my shoes and dress socks, and roll up my slacks.
“We’re going into the water?” she asks.
Before she has a chance to protest, I hoist her up over my shoulder, smiling as she giggles, while I slosh through the water to the cave’s entrance. A few feet inside, the sand is still dry, and I set her down in front of a boulder. Kneeling before her, I reach into the pocket of her borrowed coat to retrieve a small flashlight that I flick on and hand off to her, as well as a pack of matches. In a slow turn, her gaze trails over the surroundings, and when it lands on me, her eyes seem to sparkle with wonder.
“I used to come here as a kid. Was the only place I could sneak away from my parents.”
“Really? You live in a freakin’ castle. With separate wings.”
“You’d be surprised at the lack of privacy. Someone always watching.” Two pieces of driftwood and dried seaweed scattered about the cave bed make for the perfect kindling, which I quickly gather. Situated far enough from the water, I dig a shallow pit in the sand and pile the desiccated tinder in the dip of it. With a strike of the match, I set the kindling aflame and the small flickers blaze with an orange glow that casts shadows on the walls.