Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) (15 page)

“No, of course not. When the time was right I was going to come into your life. That’s the reason for the little speech I gave.”

When you want me bad enough, I’ll step into your world, just as you have stepped into mine.

Chyna looked up at him. “You bastard. that night at City Lights I thought I was going crazy. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me. I almost got sick. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep without dreaming—”

“Chyna,” he whispered passionately, “can I help it if I’m an impatient man?"

She tried to get away, but he held her tighter. "I want a sample, goddammit. I want your legs wrapped around me, and I want to plunge myself so deep inside you, it hurts."

She pushed away from him. "I'm getting out of here. You're insane."

He stopped her, clenching her arm painfully. "Why, because I want you? Then every freakin' man in the world must be insane." He jerked her around when she tried to get away. "You want me too. Don't deny it. Right there on the floor in front of the fireplace you almost gave yourself to me."

"Yes, I did, but thank God I had an alarm clock that was faithful and suffered the consequences."

"What about me for God's sake?" He looked down at her with burning eyes. "I'm laying on top of you, ready to sink myself into that tight, succulent little cunt when—"

"My, you're certainly graphic."

He jerked her to him angrily, and slurred his words seductively. "You can write it, but I can’t say it?”

"Not to me."

"You wanted me once, Chyna. Tell me what has happened to change that."

Suddenly she stopped struggling and looked him right in the eyes. "Because since I've been here, I've gotten to know you. You're a bastard, Quinn Grayson. A conceited, arrogant bastard. You're more of a monster that your brother, Kirk. He's only scarred on the outside, but you're scarred on the inside. Thank you for saving my life, and I'm sorry I can't repay you with love, but it'll never happen, so get used to the idea.” She paused, looking at him closely. “I will say one thing for you, though. You've helped me to learn something about myself since I've been here. All my life I thought I wanted a handsome hunk of a man like you, but I'd rather have someone like Kirk with all his scars than a bastard with a perfect face like yours any day…or night."

He wrenched her arm, making her frown. "Well I didn't save you for somebody else bitch, and I'll have you, just you wait and see."

Tears filled Chyna's eyes as he brutally pushed her against the desk.

"Be in the car in five minutes, or you'll never see your fucking house again. At least what there is left of it."

After Quinn slammed out, Chyna leaned her head down into her hands and cried. She looked up when she heard something, and saw a dark silhouette standing in a shadow watching her.

"Hello, Ms. Marsh," the raspy whisper drifted out of the shadow.

Embarrassed, she dabbed at her eyes. "What in hell do you do, materialize out of thin air? Have you been there all along?"

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment, then whispered tearfully, "You should have made your presence known."

The shadow chuckled. "You make a fine Scarlett O'Hara, but I'm hardly Rhett Butler.”

She lifted her eyes and looked at the dark silhouette. “Kirk—” Rising slowly, she started toward him.

"Stay right where you are, Ms. Marsh."

"Let me see you, Kirk."

"The last time you saw me, you screamed."

"But you surprised me. I promise I won't scream this time."

"The storm is over, Ms. Marsh. I think it's about time you went back home."

"I can't." She lowered her head and blotted a stream of fresh tears. "My house was destroyed, and the telephone lines—" Her words faded when she looked back up and saw the shadowy corner empty of life.

Suddenly Quinn appeared at the door. “Who are you talking to?”

“Myself,” she replied as she rose from the couch. As she pushed past him, she wondered if she’d lost all her senses letting Quinn escort her around. Depending on anyone gave her a feeling of helplessness, but with no choice but the obvious one, she was reminded that she needed to see how her car had made it through the storm.

* * * *

The car rocked and bumped over the ruts in the narrow road making Chyna toss back and forth. When her house came into view, she couldn't believe it. The car had barely come to a halt when she quickly slammed out of it and ran toward the wreckage that used to be her house. Her wide, unbelieving eyes raked across the disaster while tears blinded her eyes.

When Quinn saw her stooping to pick up little things here and there that meant something to her, his anger flared. Her life was with him now, and the thought of her wanting anything that was attached to her past was intolerable.

Chyna walked into what had been her study. Her computer was destroyed, and all of her books. When she saw the scattered pages blowing in the wind, pain stabbed at her heart. She didn’t feel as if she was experiencing the death of mere paper characters, but those of her own children…her family. One by one she picked up the torn pieces of the colorful artists designs that the cruel, violent wind had torn into fragments and desperately held them to her heart. Feeling the deep loss, she then fell to her knees among the rubble, her shoulders shaking with tears of torment.

Quinn walked over to her, held her by the shoulders and pulled her up gently.

Taking her in his arms, he said, "I tried to warn you, Chyna.” He turned, and gently pulled her along with him. “Come on, let's get out of here."

"No,” she sobbed, then began nervously wiping the tears from her face. “I want to get some things. Whatever's left."

"There's nothing left. Can't you see? It's all been destroyed."

"No," she sobbed, as fresh tears began falling down her cheeks. "I can't leave it, it's mine."

“Chyna, it’s no use. You’re holding on to a memory. What used to be.”

Chyna whirled on him. “You bastard. You’re glad my house is gone.”

“I’m only glad that part of your life is gone. It’s yesterday. You and me, we’re the future.”

“You’ll never be in my future,” she yelled and ran to the car.

Clenching his teeth in anger, Quinn slammed the car into gear and drove it up to Cat's Paw. They didn't speak the rest of the way, and as soon as the car bumped up into the drive, Chyna jumped out and ran up to the mansion.

Quinn watched her, hating her and loving her at the same time. He refused to accept the fact that she didn't want him, and his nostrils flared in anger as he stared after her. Since when did Quinn Grayson ask a woman what she wanted anyway? What he wanted, he took, and the sooner she learned it, the better off she would be. He was glad her house was gone, and felt no remorse in the part he had played in destroying it. He thought about the day of the hurricane, and the power he felt in the wind, the lightning, and the thunder. The widow had outdone herself. The elements had been conjured up that day just for him, and directed like an arrow right toward Chyna's house. He didn't know if the hurricane came from Heaven or hell, but as long as it brought her to him—he didn't care!

Elaine turned quickly when she heard someone slamming through the front door. She opened her mouth to say something, but Chyna had a look on her face that clearly told her she didn't want to talk. Within only seconds, Quinn followed her, his eyes riveted upward, watching Chyna climb the staircase. Instead of running up after her, he went into the study, retrieved something, then ran up the sprawling staircase two steps at a time, the look on his face stormy.

Elaine knew there would be trouble between them the minute Quinn found out that Chyna refused to be pushed around. It seemed that Quinn's controlling personality had met it's match against Chyna's independence, and now they couldn't even be in the same room without battling. She looked up toward the bedrooms thinking she might go up and try and make peace, but just about then she heard something fall and break. She begrudgingly turned her head toward the kitchen where Venita was doing the dishes. Elaine had found out that Venita was very sweet, but extremely clumsy.

* * * *

Chyna had only been in her bedroom a few seconds when she heard a knock. "Go away!"

"I just want to apologize. Don't make me do it through the door!"

Chyna tried to calm herself for a moment, then walked stiffly toward the door and cracked it open.

Quinn made a move to come in, but Chyna quickly blocked his way. This angered him, and his eyes narrowed. "Let me in."

"No."

"Do you realize I could very easily pick you up and throw you off the veranda with one hand?"

"Is that the way you apologize?"

"All right, I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn’t have. It won't happen again."

"Thank you."

"Now, may I come in?"

"No."

"You fucking bitch!” he shouted, his face contorted with hate. “Some day you'll beg me for it! Do you hear? You'll beg!”

"In your dreams, creep!" She pushed on the door to close it, but he strong-armed his way in.

Watching her turn her back to him, anger spread through him. "Would you like to know who really destroyed your house?"

Her eyes widened, and she turned. "What do you mean? The hurricane did it."

"With a little help from the widow.”

“That’s not possible. No one can control the elements.”

“I told you not to underestimate the widow’s power, didn’t I?”

“You mean you—?”

“Yes.”

"You stinking bastard! What in hell gives you the right to come into my life and turn it upside down?”

“I’m sorry if you’ve suffered, but it was the only way.”

“The only way to
what
, for God’s sake?"

"To bring you here, and then to keep you here."

“Get this straight Quinn Grayson, the decisions I made, I made on my own.” Her voice slowly rose with her anger. “My life is my own, do you understand? Not you, not the widow, not God in heaven, or the devil in hell makes my decisions for me.”

Quinn smirked. “I doubt you could make a decision that doesn’t somehow involve Chapter One, Page One.”

“Why you…you…” Her words slowly faded when she saw Quinn bring something out from behind him. It was her book,
Rogue of Love
, the one he had retrieved from the study drawer. While she stood watching, like a child he slowly began tearing pages out and shredding them with his evil fingers.

“That, my dear is what I think of your precious Curt Jensen, the bloodthirsty, Vlad Alesandru, the oversexed Lexard Shane, and all the rest. I’ll see to it that every one of your outlandish creations meet their deserved end.”

She looked down at the pages that littered the floor of her room and looked back up at him again, seeing Quinn for what he really was. He wasn’t only jealous of Kirk, he was jealous of her mind—her writer’s mind—because that was where every male protagonist that Chyna had ever created lived. It was true that she fell in love with her heroes, but it was something every female writer did. It meant nothing. But to Quinn, if Chyna loved them, they were enemies—paper enemies—another adversary for him to overcome. It was that elusive part of her that belonged to her alone—a place deep inside her that he couldn’t invade except to cast contempt upon them, and destroy them before her eyes.

Looking at the horror in her eyes, he said, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Stay away from me Quinn Grayson," she whispered.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. "Did you ever make it with a crazy man?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy. “Who knows, you might like it."

Chyna struggled when he suddenly grabbed both her arms and pulled her against him.

"It'll give you something to put in your next book. You have to be careful though, and describe it just right. You know, every kiss, every moan, every groan, every erotic feeling that goes through you during every fucking plunge."

She turned her head away so he couldn't see her tears, but he grabbed her hair and turned her face back toward his.

“Don’t turn away from me, bitch,” he said, then pulled her roughly to him and rubbed himself against her so close she could feel every curve of his body. “Don’t hold me like that, Quinn, let me go."

"What? The little slut that writes the trashy novels is getting virtuous?"

"You bastard, I write what I have to. Sex sells."

"Speaking of selling, what would you take for a little action, huh?"

"You're a pig!" she yelled, then spat in his face.

After quickly wiping at his face, he backhanded her so hard, she landed on the bed. Standing over her, he unbuckled his belt and shouted, "For once in your life, you're going to deliver, you smut-writing little cockteaser. You're not going to wiggle that sexy little ass around Quinn Grayson and get away with it,"

In only seconds he fell on her, his heavy body pinning her to the mattress. His hands were all over her, and he cursed as her clothes seemed to resist his invasion. His heavy breathing was loud in her ears, and she felt his cock growing and pushing against her. All of a sudden he came up off her and practically flew through the air, thudding loudly against the opposite wall. Chyna felt a bolt of horror go through her when she looked up and saw a dark hulking figure with a scarred up face bending over her.