Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) (19 page)

"How did you know to find me?"

"I needed answers. I broke into your apartment. Found all the secrets you'd been hiding. I figured the H.G. in Madison's journal was Charlie."

Another shadow appeared.

"That's when Brad and I returned to find Harry in your bedroom."

"Mai?"

"Hey, beautiful."

"Is Charlie dead?"

"A kill shot was too good for him. We got a confession out of him this morning."

"How long have I been like this?"

"Four days in hospital with pneumonia and two days here. It's taken a lot out of you, pumpkin girl."

"It's taken everything."

His hand stopped caressing my face. "I should probably go. Let you sleep."

I grabbed his hand. "Stay. Watch me sleep. I can't be alone anymore."

Harry promised and soon I was asleep. The next morning I woke and my eye sight had mostly returned. Harry was gone.

So much for promises.

I rose and showered. My body was covered in scrapes and bruises. My face seemed OK, but my ears were covered in scabs of frost bite.

I spent the next couple of hours writing my expose of the Kimberley Knights. After omitting any reference to Mai and Brad at the Knights' masked ball, I sent out the completed assignment to J.C. Thruster's email address. The new acting Editor in Chief, one Hemingway Jennings emailed their thanks.

I dressed and realizing I was starving I ventured to the kitchen.

On the table was a bouquet of red roses. Not my favorite color anymore. I read the card:

Dinner tonight? My place. Harry.

I felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I heard the light patter of Mai's footsteps. I turned to her.

"I need your help, Mai."

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT

With directions to choose something simple and uncomplicated, Mai helped pick a dress for me out of her extensive collection. She styled my hair. Nothing too fussy and helped with the make-up. Again, I insisted nothing fussy.

I would have done it myself, but my hands trembled whenever I picked up an eye liner pen.

In less than an hour I was ready for my date with Harry.

Mai was in a mood to tease me.

"You act like this is your first date, Robyn. I thought you guys had already kissed."

"Seeing as how at the time of our first date I suspected Harry of killing Madison, I can't count that one. So tonight is our official first date."

"So if you sleep with Harry on your official first date does that make you an official slut?"

I felt my skin burn hot. "I have no intention of sleeping with Harry tonight."

Mai hopped about the kitchen pretending she was wearing a faulty hearing aid by banging her head with one hand.

"Excuse me, my hearing must be out of whack, but did you say you've no intention of having sex with the sweet hot guy who saved your life? Twice!"

I flushed hotter still. "Actually, three times."

She rapped her knuckles lightly on my head. "Did the doctors mention you suffered any brain damage out on the lake?"

"I'm serious. I want to take it slow with Harry."

She roared with laughter.

"So what's Harry's place like, Mai?"

"No idea. For all I know, he's never invited anyone out there."

"Really?"

"Charity never spoke of it. And I know she was dying to see it."

"Oh God, what if it's one of those hideous bachelor pads with black leather couches the size of a swimming pool and a basketball hoop in the bedroom. And a giant refrigerator full of canned beer and only enough room for a bowl of moldy chillies?"

She screamed with laughter. "The mysterious man odor of lost sweaty socks and moldy jock straps hanging from the shower rail,” she said. “Love is in the air, babe."

What was I thinking? I wasn't ready to date.

Mai sensed my panic and caressed my arm. "Just have a nice meal and come home."

My appetite had vanished. "I feel ill. Maybe I should cancel."

As the doorbell rang, she handed me one of her less ostentatious clutch bags.

"Just in case your eyesight improves to the point where you realize what a hot sex god you're dating. I put double the usual requirement of condoms in there."

Just as I was about to protest, she opened the front door and invited Harry in.

When his eyes alighted on me, I felt the butterflies take flight and forgot to chastise Mai.

He smiled. I felt breathless.

"Hey Robyn, figured you wouldn't be up to driving, so I'm here to give you a ride."

In Mai's eyes I caught her interpretation of the meaning ride.

She waved us goodbye. "I won't wait up."

"Bye, mother."

The Mustang was waiting outside.

"I never thought to ask where you live, Harry?"

"Out on lakeside. Not far from... Charlie."

"Oh."

He shrugged. "We can go find a restaurant, if you prefer?"

I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. What if he'd spent all day preparing our meal? I'd just have to grin and bear it.

"Your place is fine."

We drove in awkward silence. Not what I expected. But I wasn't helping the situation by constantly pulling the hem of my dress down to my knees.

Something at the back of my mind bothered me and I needed answers.

"Harry, you called Dean Everhardt."

"When?"

"The night of his party. I heard him answer."

He smiled nervously. "What of it?"

"You arranged to meet him. Why?"

"Ahh. I was looking out for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly that. I had Everhardt under surveillance. I saw you enter his private study. And then a few minutes later Everhardt went in there. I figured if you were going to talk your way out of there, then you'd do it fast. After a few minutes, I realized you were trapped. So..."

"So you called the Dean to get him out of there so I could escape."

He nodded. "I figured if you were prepared to endanger yourself then the least I could do was have your back."

I bit my lip. Seconds ago I was prepared to succumb to doubt and judge Harry wrongly, once again.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I guess that's four you owed me."

I smiled. "Don't push it."

Eventually, he pulled up outside a sloped roof bungalow with a mass of red roses climbing up the white washed porch.

I hadn't imagined Harry as the green thumb type.

"This is your place, right?"

"Not what you were expecting?"

I was ashamed to admit it. "Better."

His smile relaxed.

Inside was a revelation. The wood floors were waxed and polished to perfection. Not a speck of dust. The furniture was minimalist and neutral. Not a hint of the predicable macho bachelor pad style so far.

An aroma wafted from the kitchen that smelled divine. Suddenly I was starving.

I made an excuse to check out the bathroom. It was in pristine condition. The center of attraction was a genuine antique iron bath tub for two, with the faucet discreetly on the side so two lovers could each enjoy an unencumbered headrest.

It sat smugly in the center of the terracotta tiled floor and seemed to entice me to wallow in its sparkling white splendor as I breathed in the merest hint of fresh flowers and sandalwood.

I felt like a complete bitch for looking so hard for the escape clause and told myself in his perfect bathroom mirror with lighting that made any woman look like a goddess.

I had to admit to my reflection that the more I wanted Harry, the more terrified I felt. I couldn't hide out in his bathroom forever so left and found Harry in the kitchen.

Of course, if I was looking for excuses to bail out, then the big test was his cooking.

"Wine?"

"I want to steal your bathroom mirror."

He laughed. "Did it tell you, you are the fairest of them all?"

Despite myself, I laughed. "I bet your mirror tells that to all the girls you bring here."

He sipped his red wine. He fixed me with an intoxicating stare.

"You’re the first woman I've invited here."

I bet he said that to every girl in town as well. I was annoyed that a big part of me wanted to believe him.

"Fetch me the salmon from the refrigerator, Robyn."

A man who wasn't afraid to show off his beer mountain, indeed. I took a deep breath to face the mountain of disappointment and opened the refrigerator doors.

Not a beer in sight.

Everything fresh and neatly stacked on clean shelves. Not an unpleasant aroma to be witnessed.

I took the salmon steaks and handed them to Harry.

He handed me a small glass of red.

We sipped and shared a look that lasted just a few seconds too long.

"Hungry, Robyn?"

Only for his strong arms and tight ass. I tried to think of something non sexy, but even the way he wrapped the salmon with herbs was too damn sexy. I wasn't going to last the meal unless I took drastic action to derail his seduction train.

There was only one way to make the adjustment back to the straight and narrow and that was to take a peek at his bedroom and see for myself what an unromantic, cheap and nasty horror show awaited my deflowering.

"Mind if I look around?"

"Enjoy."

I found his music collection. An entire alcove off the kitchen filled with vinyl records. As I ran my fingers over the cardboard sleeves I noticed they were categorized according to genre. Everything from classical to jazz to pop, hip-hop and metal. But by far the biggest category was Blues.

I wasn't a Blues fan, but I was intrigued about the music that inspired Harry's life.

I pulled out a twelve inch vinyl record that seemed at least seventy years old and placed it on the turn table. I gently let the arm fall on to the disk and a few seconds later a solemn slow blues riff emanated from hidden speakers around the house.

Harry popped his head around the corner and shook his head. "That's funeral music. Play something upbeat."

I found a Philadelphia sound compilation and put that on instead.

As I continued my exploration of this Man Cave I glanced behind me and caught him making subtle shapes to the music.

I found the bedroom door with difficulty as there were no predictable male odors to guide me. Eventually, I found a heavy rose wood door and opened it into quite a shocking scene.

I crossed the exquisite and spotless parquet flooring to a four poster bed of rosewood. It hung four translucent silk curtains with a multitude of fine layers of unfussy pastel lilac and peach diffusing the soft yellow lighting as if I was walking through a dream world.

On the wall beneath the bed's canopy was an old photograph of a young woman standing in a field of sunflowers. Below it was a quote from a Shakespeare sonnet written in the original old English grammar:

If you read this line, remember not

The hand that writ it; for I love you so

That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot

If thinking on me then should make you woe.

Upon reading it, I couldn't help but wonder what deep currents of wisdom dwelt in the still waters of Harry's soul. I caught myself wondering how enjoyable spending a life time discovering them would be.

White bed sheets yielded more luxurious softness than I'd ever felt against my skin. I felt a low trembling gasp slip from my lips. The mountain of pillows were lined up like soldiers made of clouds on parade.

At the far end of the room, two deep armchairs faced a log fire burning in a fireplace with an antique iron facade. Beyond that, two French doors allowed a view of the lake facing east. It glistened in moonlight, peaceful and serene.

I couldn't help but imagine waking up in this room. Feeling the rising dawn sunshine seduce my senses and inspire rapturous love making with Harry. I felt my nipples harden between my fingers.

I had to get out of there. Run and never look back.

Too late.

I realized a shadow had crossed the room. I spun around on the balls of my feet.

Harry was stood behind me. I fell backwards and he caught me in his arms. He pulled me towards him. All I could see was his perfect, full lips parting as his head leaned into taste me.

The touch of his lips sent a rocket of flaming passion through my body. I trembled in his arms, knowing if his caressing hands on my shoulder blades, moved down my body to between my legs, I'd surely explode like a firework of ecstasy over his exploring fingers.

There was only one thing for it. Never expecting him to stop, I whimpered, "No."

His lips parted from mine. He stepped back far enough to show he respected my wishes. He stood aside in silence, allowing me to freely walk out of his bedroom, and out of his life forever.

I took a step forward while silently screaming to myself to stop. I couldn't believe what I had. My mind screamed:
oh my God, he isn't just a drop dead gorgeous sex magnet, but also a perfect gentleman.

As I reached the door, he whispered, "So who was he?"

"Who?"

"The ex. The guy who made you so cautious around me."

I lightly bit my bottom lip.

"Oh, I'm cautious am I?"

"You're telling me you're not? Prove it."

I spun around and realized he was once again stood within an inch of me. I could feel an invisible force emanating from him. Pulling me into his arms as I leaned forward and kissed his full lips.

I felt a tingling sensation on my lips, pulsating all the way down to my toes.

Before I knew what was happening, Harry scooped me up in his arms and carried me to his bed.

I whimpered, "Please. I'm a..."

"I know. I'll be gentle, my love."

Words that blissfully melted my resolve as surely as it had never existed.

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

There was no desperate urgency. No unwelcome pressure to yield. Just the gentle building expectation of his lips on mine. Feeling these full lips smiling as we kissed, relaxed me.

As he stretched out by my side, his hands caressed my neck and shoulders to the aching rhythm of his lips on mine. It was timeless, endless as a dream with no beginning or end. We simply
were
.