Nightwind (7 page)

“I can show you a better time than any party you’ve ever been at,” she whispered huskily.

He arched a dark brow at her invitation. “I would imagine you’d try.”

She felt slightly insulted by both the words he had spoken and the tone that had been just a touch short

of condescending, but Beth ignored it, wanting him so desperately she was willing to strip naked before

him at that very moment, the hell with the people milling around Allen Turnbridge’s home.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, taking his hand from hers. “You go on ahead and I’ll join you a bit later.” As

she started to protest, he put his thumb on her bottom lip, shushing her as he stroked the velvet surface.

“That will give me time to discharge my neighborly duties to our hosts and you time to prepare yourself

for me.” His powerful hand cupped her chin. “Undress and wait for me in your bed.” He heard her draw

in an eager breath. “I won’t be long.” He smiled wickedly.

Beth nodded, unable to look away from the strange intensity of his dark stare. It was as though he were

commanding her, bidding her to do his will. She felt lost in those deep brown eyes, beyond surrender to

the gaze that filled them. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

He watched her go, her face filled with a lusty rapture that made people look at her as she passed. Her

pupils were dilated almost as much as if she had been given a strong tranquilizer. He turned his back,

dismissing her, and found Angeline staring at him, one perfectly tweezed brow lifted in challenge.

His slow smile was all the answer Angeline needed.

Lauren turned overin the bed, angrily fluffed up her pillow, mumbling to herself. She wasn’t any more

comfortable in that position than she had been in the one she’d just restlessly left. She sat up, sighing

angrily and stared for a long time into the dark shadows of her bedroom then she turned her head and

looked at the bedside clock. It was only ten o’clock on a Saturday night and already she knew she’d had

all the sleep she was likely to get. She was about to reach out to turn on the bedside lamp and read

awhile, when the jingle of the phone brought a soft yip of startled surprise from her. She picked it up on

the second ring. “Hello?”

“Can’t you sleep?” he asked in that soft, gentle voice.

Her heart slammed against her chest. “I’ve been trying,” she confessed. She heard his low laugh.

“No sheep to count?”

Lauren laughed. “I’m allergic to wool.”

“Maybe you should try warm milk.”

Lauren heard laughter and the tinkling of glassware in the background and she remembered the party he

had invited her to attend with him. “Are you having a good time?” she asked, not knowing what else to

say.

“No.”

“Why not?” she heard herself ask and felt stupid for doing so.

“Because you’re not with me.”

Something incredibly warm and sweet passed over Lauren’s heart and she found herself clutching the

phone to her ear. “You hardly know me.”

“I know everything there is to know about you, my sweet Lauren. For as long as I have existed I have

sought you. I have traveled many thousands of miles just to be near you.” His voice was silky and tender

as he spoke.

“You’re drunk,” she accused, feeling embarrassed by what she thought were words brought forth out of

an alcoholic haze.

“And you are the dearest, sweetest creature to which I have ever been drawn.” There was a long pause

then he sighed. “Aye, sweet lady. I am drunk. Forgive me.”

“Mr. Cree?” she called out, afraid he was about to hang up.

“Don’t call me that,” he pleaded with her in a hurt tone. “My name is Syn.”

“Please don’t drive home if you’ve been drinking. It’s a long way out to—”

“Say it,” he asked.

“I don’t—”

“I want to hear you say my name. I want to hear my name on your lips,” he begged.

“It wouldn’t be proper.”

“If you won’t say my name, I won’t be responsible for the damage I might cause on my way home.” He

sounded like a little boy. “There’s many a stop sign between here and my driveway, Lauren.”

Lauren laughed. “You’re incorrigible, aren’t you?”

“I’m drunk,” he told her. “I don’t consume human food, but I can damned sure guzzle booze like there’s

no tomorrow. It’s the one vice I am allowed.”

“Will you give your keys to someone there at the party?”

“Will you say my name?”

“Syn.” The name was like a feather touch on her spine as she spoke it, causing tingles all the way from

her shoulders to her feet.

She heard him sigh with contentment. “Good night, my sweet Lauren. You can sleep now.” He hung up.

Lauren stared at the phone. A warm feeling was encroaching on her cold heart, a heart no one had ever

cared enough about to heat. As she slowly replaced the receiver, his face drifted before her and she

smiled.

“Good night, Syn,” she whispered.

She lay down, her eyelids feeling heavy. Behind one long, deep breath, sleep crept softly, protectively

over her and she fell gently into that good night.

His hands wereall over her, rough and painful: the way she had always liked a man’s hands on her.

Pinching, pushing, probing, pulling, prying, punishing. So powerful, so strong, so sure of themselves, his

hands lifted her, positioned her, dug their lustful fingers into the thick mane of her blond hair.

“Open,” he demanded, his voice hard and vicious, and she eagerly obeyed. She felt him enter her with a

violent thrust of blinding pain.

Beth’s eyes flew wide open; she came awake, her hands clawing up to push him away from her. But

there was no one there. No one above her on the bed.

“You will never slap my lady again,” was the last thing Beth Janacek ever heard.

Lauren had justreturned from Sunday morning Mass at St. Rose of Lima when the doorbell rang. Her

heart did a strange little flutter and her lips broke into an amused smile. She laid down her jacket and

walked to the door, expecting to see him standing on her porch, her neighbors peeking out from behind

their curtains, but instead, her landlady—who was also the owner of the bookstore where Lauren had

worked for three years—was standing at her screen door, smiling at her.

“Good morning, Lauren.”

“Mrs. Hellstrom.” Lauren heard the surprise in her own voice. She blushed and pushed open the

screened door. “How are you?”

“Better than I have been in a very long time,” Angeline Hellstrom answered. She glanced beyond Lauren

into the little house. “May I come in?”

Lauren’s blush deepened and she stepped back. “I’m sorry. Of course. Please do.”

Angeline looked around her as she entered the tiny room. Her brows lifted in surprise. “Why, Lauren,

it’s absolutely lovely!” She turned a bright smile to the younger woman. “You’ve made it come alive.”

She glanced at the blue gingham curtains and polished wooden floors with their multi-colored blue oval

scatter rugs. Her hand trailed over the freshly laundered slipcovers. “Did you make these yourself?” At

Lauren’s shy nod, her guest’s smile deepened. “I would not have thought it possible to make this old

place shine, but you have.” She sat down on the loveseat. “I am very pleased with how you have taken

care of it.”

Lauren smiled. “I have enjoyed living here, Mrs. Hellstrom.” A shaft of fear went through her. “Have you

sold it?”

“Oh, no. No!” Angeline laughed. “Who would buy a one bedroom cottage this day and age?” She ran

her finger on the end table next to her and wasn’t surprised to not feel any dust. “I am most content to

have you rent the place, Lauren.”

The smile disappeared from Lauren’s face. “I hope I can continue to make the rent payments, Mrs.

Hellstrom. I suppose you heard about what happened at the store.”

Angeline Hellstrom’s face turned hard. “Yes, I did, and that is why I am here.” She sat back on the

loveseat and looked up at Lauren. “Sit down, dear. We must talk.”

Wanting to forestall the moment, Lauren gasped. “Where are my manners? May I offer you something?

Tea, coffee, a glass of lemonade?”

“Nothing for me, dear,” Angeline said, patting the loveseat. “Do come and sit down, Lauren.” Her smile

was gentle. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Lauren’s smile wavered and she sat down nervously on the edge of the loveseat, folding her hands

together in her lap.

“First of all,” Angeline began, reaching out to place her cool hand over Lauren’s. “There is nothing for

you to worry about in regards to this cottage. If, after our little talk, you find it difficult to come up with

next month’s rent, we can arrange something, I’m sure. But I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Jobs are scarce here, Mrs. Hellstrom,” Lauren said in a small voice. “I don’t even know where to

start looking. Since I don’t drive—”

“Lauren,” Angeline whispered, “I don’t believe you’ll have to look anywhere.” As the young woman

glanced up at her with confusion, Angeline smiled. “I want you to go back to the store. As a matter of

fact, I am thinking of promoting you to sales clerk since both Inez and Karla won’t be coming back.”

“They won’t?”

Angeline shook her head sadly. “Inez just hasn’t been herself since her...accident. And Karla has been

committed to The Chancel over in Louisiana.” She clucked her tongue. “Such a terrible thing, don’t you

agree? At any rate, her family is quite well off and poor Karla is just not herself since that horrible man

brutalized her.”

“I’m sorry,” Lauren said.

Angeline looked closely at Lauren. “I know you are, dear. That’s the kind of sweet person you are.”

Lauren ducked her head beneath the compliment. “But even with Inez and Karla gone, Mrs. Hellstrom,

Mrs. Yelverton won’t want me back. She made that very plain to me Saturday.”

“You leave Louvenia Yelverton to me!” Angeline snapped. “I’ve been thinking of retiring her for quite

some time now. I’ve even thought of dabbling in the store, myself, for something to keep me occupied.”

She bent toward Lauren. “Until that next filthy rich old man comes along!”

Lauren laughed despite herself.

“See? You can laugh!” Angeline patted her hand. “Don’t worry, dear. Things are going to be just as

you’d like them. You’ve got a guardian angel looking out for you, now.”

The smile slowly left Lauren’s face. “Beth isn’t going to be happy to see me back there, either.”

“Oh, yes. The little Janacek girl.” Angeline tapped her lip with her finger. “The two of you had words as

I recall.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lauren admitted. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to her.”

“You probably said no more than was the absolute truth, I’m sure.”

“Nevertheless, I shouldn’t have insulted her.” She turned to her guest. “Beth didn’t like me before all this

happened. She’s not going to like me any better if I go back.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Angeline stood and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Don’t give it another

thought. The little problem with the Janacek girl will be taken care of, I would think.”

Lauren got to her feet. “I appreciate this, Mrs. Hellstrom. I really do.”

Angeline reached out and put her palm on Lauren’s cheek. “My dear, you are very special, do you

know that? I’ve heard such glowing things about you lately.”

Lauren’s face showed her surprise. “From whom?”

Angeline lowered her voice. “From someone who is most smitten with you, I fear.”

“Me?” Lauren gasped.

The smile that passed over Angeline’s face was gentle. “I’ve no doubt your life will be changing quite a

bit from now on, Lauren.” Something strange flickered in the older woman’s eyes. “Enjoy it while you

have it, dear.”

Lauren was stunned as the elegant lady bent forward and kissed her on the cheek, smiled, and then

strode to the front door.

“I’ll see myself out.” She waved a slim hand in goodbye and pushed through the screened door.

Lauren stared after her, wondering about the unexpected visit from her landlady, someone the town saw

only once or twice a year at most. Walking slowly to the porch, Lauren was in time to see the chauffeur

open the white limousine door for his employer. The black man tipped his hat to Lauren and Lauren lifted

a shocked hand in reply, watching until he was in the limousine and had pulled away from the curb. She

turned back, staring blindly at her little living room.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” she breathed, unable to believe what she’d just experienced.

Louvenia Yelverton’smouth was pursed into a vicious pout as she jammed the shop’s door key into the

lock the next morning. Who would have thought, she fumed, that one little call from that slutty Angeline

Hellstrom could ruin a person’s entire day? Slinging her purse onto the counter, the shop’s manager

reached behind the counter to flip on the overhead lights. Outside, the sky was a dark, gunmetal gray and

fat globules of rain were already beginning to strike against the sidewalk. It was just a little past 8:45 a.m.

and the shop didn’t open until 9:30, but Louvenia had decided after church the day before to come in

early so she could begin to go through the names of prospective employees to replace Inez and Karla.

Just thinking about that Hellstrom woman insisting on interviewing all the candidates set Louvenia’s teeth

on edge.

“It has been brought to my attention,” the bitch had told Louvenia Sunday afternoon, “that there has

been more than one instance of employees not getting along in that store, Louvenia. I will not tolerate my

girls sniping and causing trouble for one another.”