Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) (22 page)

"No, Kirk, I'd never—"

"Kirk," Quinn interjected quickly over Chyna’s denial. "Surely you're not going to believe her. My God, after what you've just seen?"

Kirk slid his eyes back at her, pain filling them. He abruptly reached up, ripped the mask from his face and threw it at her feet, his scarred face exposed.

Chyna looked down at the mask, tears pushing uncontrollably against her lids. When she looked up, it was just in time to see Kirk slink back into his darkness.

Chyna immediately whirled to face Quinn. "You dirty, black-hearted son of a bitch. With your lies, you've probably damaged any relationship I might have had with Kirk. Why can't you get it through your head that I wouldn't have you if you were dipped in gold, and covered with diamonds? I'd sooner curl up with a snake."

"My God, Chyna, what is it about that ugly Frankenstein that fascinates you so?" Quinn waved toward the place where Kirk had been standing. "Why can't you just leave the poor wretch to his bell tower? He's nothing. No more than an insect that lives under the stairs." Quinn reached for her, pulling her to him. "If you'll let me, I'll take you away from this miserable mansion and we can go anywhere you want. Paris, Rome, just name it, Chyna."

She pulled away. "I'd sooner go away with Jack the Ripper."

Quinn’s eyes became curious. "You keep mentioning dangerous things like snakes, Jack the Ripper, and you seem fascinated by a monster living in a basement. What are you trying to tell me, Chyna? That you like it dark and mysterious? Well, darling, why didn't you say so? I can wear a mask for you. I can play the poor bedeviled creature living in a dungeon." He leaned close and whispered in her ear. "I'll even let you be on top."

She stiffened and slapped his face.

Putting his hand to his stinging face, he said huskily, “I see you like it rough too. That’s okay. If rough is what you want, rough it’ll be. But before you say no again, think about how good it can be, Chyna. Think about me, and you…together."

"Oh, I'll think of you, Quinn. Every time I see a cockroach crawl across the floor, or open the door below the sink and see a stinking rat running for cover." She squinted with hate as she looked at him. "And every time I crush that cockroach under my foot or poison that low-down stinking rat, it'll be you that I'm doing it to.”

Hearing her response, Quinn’s eyes shot fire and he exploded. "Well, if I can't have your love, bitch, then I'll take your hate. Because there's one thing you won't do. You won't ignore me like you've been doing all evening. I won't allow it."

Just then something at the top of the stairs caught Chyna's eye. She glanced up and saw Venita all decked out in a brief little teddy waiting for Quinn. Chyna turned, and with an amused smile tugging at her lips, she said with cold sarcasm. "Quinn, what are you doing here with me? Venita's waiting."

Quinn looked up at the curvaceous eighteen-year-old and felt rage boiling inside him. He suddenly realized that using Venita to make Chyna jealous had backfired, and she saw it as nothing more than a sick joke.

Later on that evening Chyna just happened to be opening her door and saw Venita leaving Quinn's room. She stepped back, looking at the teenager through a crack in her door. The girl looked disheveled and had a short, thin little robe almost wrapped around her with her teddy clutched in her hand. Chyna watched her for a moment, something bothering her about the girl.

* * * *

When Chyna got out of bed the next day, she knew this was the day she had planned to leave, but every time she started filling the suitcase her mind would begin to wander back over the events of the night before. At the things Kirk had said and done. She’d been so close. He’d come out of his lair, laughed, enjoyed himself. For the first time she’d seen him in a normal setting. Listened to him talk, joke. Watched him slide his eyes toward hers and wink or lift his glass in a toast. His charm was lethal, his deep, southern accent enchanting. For the first time he wasn’t on guard, defensive or suspicious, but really seemed to be enjoying himself. She’d been so proud of him. He’d made a giant step forward in coming out of is lair—only to slink back into it.

Quinn had struck again.

She still hadn’t finished packing when she went down to breakfast. While Venita served Chyna kept her eyes on her, furtively watching the way the girl moved. While serving Quinn she brushed up against him, made sure he saw her cleavage, and made suggestive eye contact with him. It was subtle, but very clear what was happening. Chyna realized she had been seducing Quinn since the first day she got there. Apparently the teenager wasn't as innocent as everyone had thought. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Later that morning, Chyna caught Venita in the study. She walked in and made sure she closed the door behind her, then leaned back on it, eyeing Venita.

Venita looked up. A frightened look crossed her face when she saw the way Chyna was staring at her. She grabbed the blackboard and began scribbling something on it. "I'm sorry, Ms. Marsh, but I don't do women."

When Chyna read it, she suddenly understood. "Quinn is
paying
you?"

When the girl nodded, Chyna couldn't believe it. He had employed his own personal little whore. "Then why do you flirt with him? If he's paying you to sleep with him, why do you have to do all that?"

The girl began writing. "He told me to. He says a man likes to be seduced."

“He does, does he?” she said thoughtfully, looking Venita over as if she were a study in seduction. She noticed her low neckline, her short shorts, and her bare feet and knew no woman dressed like that unless it was an ongoing seduction. And Venita had been dressing like that since day one. Yes, she understood now. She understood a lot, but one thing bothered her. Her gaze lowered toward her feet. "Why no shoes?"

Her hand raced over the blackboard, then she shrugged as she held it up. "He likes his women barefoot."

As an idea formed in Chyna’s mind, she smiled impishly at Venita and said, “Thanks.”

Venita nodded and went back to her work, and Chyna opened the door and slipped out.

Chyna was still lost in thought when Elaine met her at the foot of the stairs. "Chyna, I know you’re probably in the middle of packing to leave, but do you mind taking Kirk's tray down this morning? I'm a little behind schedule, I'm afraid. I wouldn't ask, but…"

Chyna looked at Elaine, not hearing her. Her own thoughts were whirling around in her head like a tiny tornado. Finally managing to open her mouth, she said, "Elaine, do you think I could put that off a few days?”

“What, leaving?”

“Yes.”

Elaine eagerly responded. “Of course. What happened?”

“I’ve got an idea, and if it works…” She looked at Elaine and winked. “Just keep your fingers crossed.”

In reply Elaine held up crossed fingers, her eager smile still lighting up her face.

“Now, what were you asking me?"

"Kirk's tray. I was asking if you would take it down. I'm late and—"

"Have you prepared it yet?” Chyna asked.

“No, not yet.”

“That’s okay, I’ll do it.”

But first,
Chyna thought,
I have something of my own to do.
While Elaine was heading for the front door, Chyna turned quickly and ran upstairs to her room. Barging through the door, she strode quickly to her closet and rummaged through her clothes.

Of course men like to be seduced,
she thought
. I write about it every day of my life, so why hadn’t I thought of it? The night I was down there, he kept looking at my body, or trying not to look at it. I seduced him, that’s what did it. I seduced him, and I didn’t even know what I was doing. Fine romance novelist I am.
She began pulling out every sexy outfit she had. The more low-cut, the tighter, and more revealing they were, the better she liked it. Finally she found something, and tried it on. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a blush color her face. Scanning her body, she knew it was just what she needed. The dress was short, form-fitting, and low-cut. She put on dark hose and four-inch heels, then loosened her long hair so that the curls billowed softly around her shoulders. Walking in front of the full length mirror, she looked at herself and cried, "Yes!" All at once a determination came into her face when she saw a new Chyna Marsh staring back at her. "Thank you, Venita for reminding me that I’m a woman. I'm going to win back the man I love."

Chyna hurriedly went down to the kitchen to fix Kirk's tray. She looked up when Quinn came in.

When he saw Chyna’s outfit, he let out a low whistle. “Where the hell do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

“None of your damned business,” she spat, lifting the tray. “Now get out of my way.”

Quinn didn’t move, instead his eyes lowered, raking over the tray, then looked back at her, his eyes narrowing. “Why isn’t Elaine doing this?”

“She’s busy with something else,” she said, trying to get around him.

He blocked her path, his eyes steely.

“Get out of my way, Quinn, I don’t have time for you this morning.”

His hands lifted toward the tray. “If you’re so busy, I’ll take it down to him.”

"Get lost," she ordered, her eyes full of venom.

Something about the tone of her voice made Quinn’s hands hover in mid air, then lower. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at her intently, his voice threatening. “I’ll be timing you."

“You’re pathetic,” she said, veering around him, and heading toward the door beneath the stairs.

Her shoes scraped the concrete as she stepped down, meeting each step carefully. It was a precarious descent since there was no banister to hold onto and her hands were full, but she finally made it without any mishaps. Chyna made her way toward the barred door and was met with the same darkness as always. While balancing the tray with one hand, she stepped up and rattled it. Kirk stepped out of the darkness, looking at her curiously. "Where's Elaine?"

"She had something to do."

Kirk opened the door, then went back to his desk. He cut his eyes over to her as she set the tray down. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I'm going into Atlantic City."

"Dressed like that?"

"Yes," she said as she turned to him, then added softly, "Kirk, I'm sorry about what happened last night."

Kirk's eyes clouded over with pain, then looking back down at what he was doing, he rasped, "I don't want to talk about it."

“Sorry, I just thought I should apologize.” Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she innocently lifted her shapely leg and put her foot on a short stool. Casting a veiled look in his direction, she leaned over as if straightening her hose. "Is there anything I can get you while I'm there?"

"No, I'm—" he began, then looked up and saw her dark, silky leg. "—fine." Kirk dropped his pen, and Chyna rushed over to pick it up. As she bent down, her cleavage ballooned, straining against her dress. When she looked up, she was staring right into his eyes.

Chyna could have sworn she heard a sizzling sound as their eyes met, and when he reached for the pen, their fingers touched. She could see him clenching his teeth as he fought against his arousal. He quickly got up and turned his back on her. "You'd better go. It's getting late."

She looked at his back, her heart breaking. "Kirk," she whispered. "Would you help me with this chain?"

When he turned she laid it carefully in his hand, then turned her back on him and lifted her hair. He slowly circled her with his arms, maneuvering the chain around her, then finally laid it gently on her cleavage. She could feel the cold metal caressing her skin and knew he had to be looking down into the swell of her breasts. Behind her, Kirk’s eyes were closed, savoring the tantalizing fragrance of her perfume. He finally leaned his head down, looking closely at the clasp, and with her hair nestling gently against his face, he could smell its heavenly fragrance. When she heard the tiny snap of the clasp, she moved her hand and her hair tumbled back down, but neither of them moved. His arms dropped to his side, and she leaned herself back against him as close as she dared. She closed her eyes, feeling his nearness, wishing he would make just one small move toward her.

Suddenly he broke the silence with an emotional rasp, “All done.”

Chyna turned and smiled her thanks, then walked toward the door reluctantly. "Well, I guess I'll be going now. You're sure you don't want anything."

"No, nothing," he said with a forced softness. Kirk had his back to her, and as Chyna walked out, she smiled, hearing the faintest snap of the pen he was holding. She knew it was being broken in two not only by the strength of his hands, but also by the strength of his sexual frustration.

Chyna ran up the dark stairs, then up to her room to change clothes. When she pulled on her jeans, she picked up the phone and called Joni.

"I'll be there in ten minutes. Be ready, we're going shopping."

When they got on the road, Joni was gulping down a fried egg sandwich and drinking black coffee. "What in hell is the rush? You didn't even give me time to eat breakfast."

"I need your help, and there are places to go and people to see."