Jane Eyre Austen (18 page)

He nodded, “I prefer your directness, Jane.  Do not trifle me with what you think I wish to hear.”

“Yes sir.  I shall not hold my wicked tongue for fear of chastisement anymore.” She answered drolly.

He laughed and handed her a glass of wine, before pouring himself one.  She returned to cooking, draining the ravioli and adding cream to the tomatoes and garlic and heating it before pouring it over the drained ravioli.  She tore up the basil and tossed it on top.

“Two plates, please?” she asked.

He handed them to her and watched as she carefully arranged the dinner on each plate and placed two large basil leaves on top.  He placed salad in bowls and put them on the table.

“It smells wonderful.” He murmured when she handed him a plate.  He brought it over to the table.

“Thank you,” she answered shyly.

“This is a work of art, Jane.” He mused looking at his plate, perfectly dressed.

“Enough praise.  Eat.” She ordered.

After dinner, he cleared the table and poured more wine.  Leading her upstairs to the sitting room, he started a fire and then pointed a remote at the Seurat painting.  The screen changed and Fox News took its place.

She chuckled, “Ok, that’s really cool.”  She sat down on the couch and he joined her.

He grinned, “Yeah...”  He looked over at her, “Almost as cool as having a jet.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh, now you’re just bragging.”

“Are you implying I’m vain, Ms. Eyre?”

She chuckled, “Vain, sir?  Do you feel that you are excessively proud?”

He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, “Excessively, I don’t believe so.  Do I not have the right to feel some pride in the fruits of my labor?”  He produced an iPad from the side of the couch and the TV guide pulled up on the television.  He asked innocently, “What would you care to watch, Ms. Eyre?”

She rolled her eyes, “You have an iPad as a remote.”

He grinned, “Maybe.”

She cocked a brow, “And a jet.”

“Yes”

“So it’s safe to say you are, in fact not just wealthy but stinking rich?”

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

She nodded, the wine making her more honest, “Yes.  Most definitely.”

“Ms. Eyre, are you prejudiced?” he feigned shock.

She sighed, “Yes sir, I believe I am.”

He stilled and looked at her curiously, “Jane, really?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry but I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit this is very intimidating.  Remember I prefer to be the peahen to the peacock.”

He shook his head, “You are most peculiar Ms. Eyre.”  He looked at the television and turned down the volume, “But Jane, I’m just a man, and you yourself grew up with money.”

She looked at him, “I grew up in the house you have seen, with parents that were a bit different than my peers.”  She pulled her leg up on to the couch to face him and winced at the pain from changing position, “The antiques in the house now, are exactly as they have always been.  My father was very careful with money when I was growing up; he made sure that there was enough to care for us when he passed.”  She waved to the television and iPad, “And he never introduced technology into our home, he felt it was important that I was trained classically.  He felt that television would only take time away from my studies of the arts.”

Gray blinked, “You didn’t have television as a child?”

She nodded, “You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that Disney had rewritten so many classics.  Patrick and I spent most of our time together watching TV; he tried to educate me on pop culture.” 

“If you didn’t have television, how did you learn about Edith Head?  She’s not exactly pop culture.” He asked sardonically.

She shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “Patrick’s always been gay.”

He laughed.  Shaking his head he asked, “So am I to understand that you could only love me if I was poor?”

Her eyes widened, “I do not believe it proper to speak of love and money in the same breath, sir.”

He chuckled, “You are quite right, Ms. Eyre.  Yet, it bothers you, even though you may not speak of it in the same breath, you are certainly thinking of it.”

“I cannot deny that there is a part of me that is awed and daunted by your character and wealth.”

He reached for her hand and pulled her fingers to his lips, brushing them lightly.  She blushed, and he turned his cheek so that the backs of her fingers trailed over his face. 

“Jane, I am in awe of you.  You cannot deny your attraction and I certainly do not deny mine.  Do you think your mother was concerned about your father’s money?”

Jane said quietly, “No, I see your point.”  She yawned, “I am sorry sir.  I did not mean to be so rude.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, “Nonsense Jane, you have had a most trying day.  Would you care to go to bed?”

She swallowed, not sure how to answer.  Bed, that one word had many meanings, it could be a noun or a verb.  Sensing her discomfort Gray stood up and held his hands out to her.

“Come Ms. Eyre, I offer you a place to slumber, to dream.”  He pulled her up from the couch and after giving her personal time he tucked her into his bed. 

“Good night Ms. Eyre, I shall be here for you in case you require anything in the night.  You are most safe, I assure you.”

She thanked him and settled into the covers.  He left and returned to the sitting room, turning down the volume of the television.  She woke when she felt him join her in bed, he whispered quietly, asking if she had a headache, when she murmured no, he laid against her back, gently draping his arm over her waist.

She awoke wrapped around him, her leg thrown over his, her head on his chest.  She looked up shyly and discovered he was awake and amused.

His hand traveled lightly down her back, “How are you feeling this morning?”

She grinned, “Well rested.”

His hand traveled lower, cupping her buttocks as he leaned down and kissed her.  He pulled his head back and watched her, “All better?”

She whispered, “Much better,” ignoring the soreness that still plagued her back.  She became aware that he had come to bed in boxer briefs, and only boxer briefs.  The fact that her head and hand were resting directly on his skin, his warm, soft skin that covered firm muscles was definitely doing much to improve her condition.  She bravely moved her hand across his chest; her fingertips trailing over a smattering of chest hair covered his perfect chest.  He looked sculpted, hard muscles covered by soft skin.

She felt her heart beating faster as she watched his expression darken and intensify.  He leaned his forehead towards hers, watching her, and then he kissed her again.  His hands cupped her bottom and pulled her up so that her head was even with his.  He deepened their kiss until she pulled back, watching him carefully.  His hands slid under her sweater, unhooking her bra.

The phone rang and she blinked, unsure that it could be real, the intrusive peal of the bell.  Gray cursed and removed his hand from her back and reached over to answer it.

“Poole.” He barked and waited.  “What?”  His eyes shifted to hers, “When?”  He closed his eyes briefly and then rolled them, “Ok, I’ll let her know,” and hung up.

She propped herself up on one elbow, but left her leg and arm on him, unwilling to break contact.  “What’s happened?

He sighed, “We have to get dressed.  The police are on their way over.  Richard’s dead, looks like murder.”

“Holy cow,” she breathed, “Who called, was it Ben?  I mean was it Ben that called?” she asked.

He smirked, “Of course.”  He grabbed her hips and pulled her directly on top of him, “I wish to continue this at a future time, Ms. Eyre.”

“Mr. Poole!” Jane chided, and then leaned down and kissed him.  Teasing him with her tongue, her hands splayed on his chest, her hips centered over his.  He returned the kiss with fervor.

She moaned when his hands grabbed her hips and rocked her close.  He stopped, “Jane, the police…”

She relented, sitting up and grinning wickedly.  “You’re right.”  She slowly rolled off him grimacing as she sat up.  Her hands went behind her to fasten her bra and she headed to the bathroom. 

She followed the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.  Gray was wearing blue jeans and a white linen shirt and leaning against the counter when she came in, his arms folded across him.

“So, you think Ben killed him?” he asked.

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.  “Um, I don’t know.”  He grinned and she continued, “I think he’s capable, but I don’t know why he would.”

Gray nodded, he looked out the window behind her, “If the police ask who would want Richard dead, you should have a name handy.  Probably not Ben’s.”

She stepped toward him, “His wife has an excellent motive.”

Gray looked at her surprised, “Why?”

“Oh, she’s going to be mad that he went off his rocker so publicly.  It’s one thing to be an asshole in private, but to have it posted on YouTube?  Plus with you buying the hotel, I guarantee you they put all their assets into the property across the street…”  She looked thoughtful, “He’s worth more dead than alive, and now that he so publicly shamed himself…”   Jane looked at him, “It’s not like I haven’t dreamed of killing him myself.  This is just a good opportunity.”

Gray pulled her in for a hug, “I wouldn’t share that last bit either.”  He sighed, “I never thought that buying the hotel would cause this to happen.  I just assumed it would annoy him, ruin him financially.  I didn’t think he’d become violent or get killed.”

She nuzzled his chest, loving the smell of him, the warmth of his arms around her.  She spoke softly, “This is about greed, not about honor.  You’ve done nothing but bring out the worst in Richard who was trying to screw with you because you showed me and my mother kindness.”

“Ms. Eyre, screw?”

“Would you prefer he is a bubbler, a buckeen who took you for a cake?” she asked drily.

He laughed, “I have no idea what that means, translate please.”

“He’s a cheat who thought you’d be an easy mark.”  She looked up at Gray fondly, “I would like to believe that Richard is truly clueless that his business deals have made him so many enemies.  Truthfully, I don’t think he cares.  I mean cared.”

Gray groaned, “I should call Clayton, he should be here, in case.”  He released her from the hug and went to the office to place the call. 

Jane felt cold, and frightened and suddenly angry at Ben for not calling her directly.  She went upstairs to check her phone, but there were no texts, no voicemails.  She texted James that the police were coming to Gray’s house to question her about Richard’s death.  James replied immediately that they had just left the house.

She replied, “I can’t believe he’s really dead.”

James answered, “I can’t believe it took this long for it to happen.”

She deleted the text and took her phone with her downstairs. 

Gray looked at her curiously, “You’re very pale.  Do you feel alright?”

She nodded, “I texted James, the police just left the house.  I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Clayton should be here in twenty minutes.  He’s begged us to not say a word until he gets here.”

Jane sighed, “This is why Ben wanted me to stay here last night.  He knew this was going to happen.”  She looked at Gray, “He wanted to make sure that you and I had alibis.”

Gray shrugged, “I doubt it, if he wanted us to have alibis, and he would have suggested we go out to eat in public, be seen by others.”

Jane conceded, “True, I hadn’t thought of that.”

She made herself some tea while Gray made toast and pulled out apple butter from the fridge.

They sat at the table and Gray looked up at her, “I like this Jane.  I think we should make a habit of breakfasting together.”

She narrowed her eyes, “You forget I come with excessive baggage.”

“We all have baggage.” He said softly.

She scoffed, “Mine’s in her sixties, healthy as a horse and requires constant supervision.  Gray, I’m sorry but I can’t…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

He was about to push her when the doorbell rang.  He had her wait at the table while he answered the door and escorted the detective to the kitchen.  He poured him a black coffee and introduced him to Jane.  They all sat down at the table, Gray took the seat beside Jane and the detective sat across from her.

Detective Goold was handsome, looked to be in his late forties, in excellent shape with bright blue intelligent eyes and a warm smile.  His hair was graying at the temples and laugh lines were etched around his eyes making Jane relax immediately.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry for your loss,” he began.  Jane nodded and said nothing, “I just left your mother’s house.”  He looked up at her curiously, “Is she alright?”