Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) (25 page)

"Going my way?"

She turned and looked up into the flashing blue eyes of the man that got out of the cab and almost fainted. It was Kirk. Her eyes scanned his face. "My God, Kirk, your face, what…"

Kirk looked around at the staring people. "We're making a scene. Let's step inside, and I'll tell you everything."

As they walked Chyna looked around, then said, "Kirk, we're not making a scene, they're just looking at your gorgeous self."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe their looking at
your
gorgeous self."

"I don't think so," she said, noticing the women whose eyes were boldly appreciating Kirk. "God, I almost wish the scars were back."

"Oh, they're here, you just can't see them."

"They are?” she said as her eyes searched his face. “Well, they're not on your face. What did you do, put them in your pocket?"

"Very funny." He guided her to a seat in the lobby, then carefully turned her face toward his. "Now, look at my face."

“I have been,” Chyna said, looking closely, then finally saw a very faint, small line. She reached up to touch it.

He caught her hand. "No, don't touch it. It's a skin-tone, stretchable synthetic that was made up for the doctor by a friend of his. It adheres to the skin naturally and covers any disfigurement. It was invented by a makeup artist who works in the film industry. This is just something he put together for the movies, but it worked so well he showed it to some doctors. Before long a lot of interest in the field of Cosmetic Surgery was worked up, and with their help he's going to put it on the market. It's called—or it's going to be called,
Second Skin
."

"It's fantastic."

"Yeah." He looked around. "Now where is this woman we're supposed to meet here?"

"Oh, she's up in room—" Chyna began scrambling around in her purse, then looked down at a piece of paper. "Room 203."

"Okay, let's get going."

They walked to the elevator, then Kirk turned as if he were looking for something. Suddenly he began pushing her toward a door, and said, "It's only one floor, how about we take the steps?"

"Okay, whatever."

Kirk pushed the door to the stairwell open for Chyna while his eyes began darting around. She walked through and was just about to take the first step up, when Kirk stopped her and turned her around.

"I didn't really want to walk up, I just wanted somewhere we could be alone."

"Oh yeah?" she said, smiling. "What did you have in mind, stranger?"

"A little of this," he whispered as he pulled her to him and covered her lips with his. "And a touch of this," he continued as he began sensuously nibbling on her ear.

Chyna closed her eyes and smiled mischievously, feeling the delicious heat of his breath on her face. Suddenly he put his hands under her coat and began firmly caressing her breasts. "Kirk," Chyna said, looking toward the door. "What if someone comes in?"

"They'll have to wait their turn."

She snickered into his mouth when he tried to kiss her.

He pulled his head back. "Hey, that wasn't nice."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Is that what you're going to be teaching our kids? To snicker at their old dad?"

The smile left her face, and she looked into his eyes for several seconds, wondering if he realized what he’d said. "Are we going to have kids, Kirk?"

"I certainly hope so, isn't that your biological clock I hear ticking?"

"It's a nuisance, isn't it?"

His eyes softened as he looked at her. "It's the most beautiful music I'll ever hear."

They started upstairs, gazing into each other's eyes. "I must say I've had more romantic proposals."

"So you're one of those, huh?" Kirk stopped on the stairs and began rummaging through his coat pocket. After a while he brought out a box of Cracker Jacks. "Here, I was saving it for later, but you look hungry now."

She looked down at it with a question in her eyes.

"Go ahead, open it."

Sitting down on the steps, she said, "You think of food at the strangest times." While pouring out the gooey, syrup covered snack, she looked down and saw the most beautiful ring she had ever seen tumble from the box. As she looked at it, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Kirk," she said and began crying.

"Women," Kirk replied, then took the ring from among the sticky puffs and placed it on her finger.

Chyna held her hand out and looked down at it, then turned and threw her arms around him.

Kirk pulled her close, pushing her gently down among the sweet, sticky popcorn and kissing her deeply. Then whispering softly into her ear, he asked, "I love you, Chyna. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, yes, Kirk. Yes, yes, yes!"

They lay there giggling until they heard someone opening the door above them, then got up quickly and continued up the stairs.

As they walked down the hall to Reyna's room, Chyna was still holding her hand out and looking at the glittering diamond. Several people passed by them, looking curiously at Chyna's outstretched hand. Chyna leaned over and whispered to Kirk. "You'll have to watch me, Kirk. I'm so happy, I feel like stopping everyone I see and telling them."

He whispered, "Well then, I guess I'll have to handcuff you."

She looked at him suggestively, and purred. "Anytime!"

They finally arrived at Reyna's room. After knocking several times Chyna turned the knob, but it was locked. She looked up at Kirk with a worried look on her face. Just then a maid passed by, pushing a cart full of linens. Chyna reached out and stopped her. "Excuse me, would you please open this door for me? We're expected, and I'm kind of worried, since there's no answer."

"Of course," the maid replied promptly, then pulled out a card, pushed it into a slot, and turned the knob.

Chyna pushed the door open slowly and stepped in, looking around. "Reyna," she called out. "Are you here? It's me, Chyna." Puzzled, she wandered around for a few moments, then walked into the bedroom and stopped cold. What she saw caused a gasp, and a sudden scream to burst out of her throat. Both the maid and Kirk ran to her. There they saw a young, attractive brunette sprawled out on the bed, lying in a pool of blood with her wrists sliced open. From the looks of the room, it appeared that she had slashed her wrists in the bathroom, then with blood dripping everywhere, had staggered into the bedroom to lie down and die.

Chyna fainted.

* * * *

When Chyna awoke later, there was a bustle of people all over the suite. There were ambulance attendants, a coroner, uniforms, and a Columbo-type detective giving her the once-over appreciatively. The hotel doctor was attending her when she looked around. "Where's Kirk?" she asked, frightened.

"I'm right here, sweetheart," Kirk said, rushing to her side.

She grabbed his hand as if it were a lifeline. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered, then closed her heavy lids.

The doctor looked at him, concerned, then pulled him away for a moment. "She's had quite a shock. I'm going to have to give her a strong sedative that'll put her out for several hours. Do you have a room at the hotel?"

"No, but that's okay. Give her whatever she needs. I'll think of something."

The doctor prepared the medication while Kirk questioned him in hushed tones.

"She will be all right, won't she?"

"She’ll be fine. The sedative will give the shock time to wear off. When she wakes up, she'll remember it, of course, but she’ll be better able to cope with it."

The doctor turned back to Chyna just as Kirk turned and saw the nosey detective still watching Chyna. He tried to ignore him, but when he couldn't take anymore, he yelled. "Get your goddamned beady eyes off my fiancée."

“Hey, don’t get so excited. I’m just doin’ my job here. You were busy. I was waiting for you to get through. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“What is it?” Kirk growled.

“The little lady over there. Is she Chyna Marsh?”

“Yeah, so what?”

The detective lifted a bloody picture in his hand and looked at it.

“What the hell is that?”

“A picture of Ms. Marsh, apparently.”

"Where did you get it?"

"The dead woman had it clutched in her hand."

A chill passed through Kirk as he snatched the picture away from the detective. His mind went back to the night he had slit his own wrists holding Chyna's picture in his hand. “Can I borrow this for a minute?”

The detective shrugged. “Why not, with your prints on it, it’s ruined as evidence anyway.”

“Evidence? You’re collecting evidence? My God, you think this is a murder?”

“Sir, when a death has occurred a homicide detective is always—” His impatience getting the best of him he gave the air a swipe with his hand. “—hell, you’re a citizen, what the fuck do you know about investigating a suicide, or anything else?” He indicated to the photograph. “Go ahead. Take the friggin’ picture with my compliments.” When he turned away, Kirk heard him mutter, “Civilians, sheee.”

Turning away from the disgruntled detective, he walked back to the doctor. "Doc, have you given her the shot yet?"

"Just about to, why?"

"Could I have a moment with her first?"

"Sure," the doctor said as he moved away.

Kirk settled down beside her, hesitating to ask the question. "Chyna, did you know Reyna was in love with you?"

Chyna looked up at him. "What?"

He looked down at the photograph, and showed it to Chyna. "She had this clutched in her hand."

Chyna took the bloody photograph and looked down at her smiling face. "This doesn't mean anything."

"I think it does. She called you the other night. What did you talk about?"

"You mostly."

"What did you tell her about me?"

Chyna looked lovingly into his eyes. "How wonderful you are and that I love you."

"How did she react to that?"

"Okay, I guess. She told me she was happy for me, and then—" She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, Kirk, it just can't be true. She gave no indication to me how she felt."

"I'm sure she didn't," he said sadly.

"What's the matter?"

"It's just that I know how it feels to want something you can't have so badly that death is preferable to living."

"What do you mean, Kirk?"

"Chyna, before you came to the mansion, I slit my wrists, and almost died with your picture clutched in my hands. If it hadn't been for Quinn and Elaine I might have died. Elaine patched me up, and Quinn stayed with me through the crisis. They didn't take me to the hospital, because they knew I would rather die than be seen by anyone."

Chyna was reminded of the first day she’d woken up in the mansion after the hurricane. The stupid things she’d said. She’d had no idea what Elaine had gone through with Kirk. The ten years following the accident had taken its toll on all of them. It had turned Kirk into a prisoner, Elaine into a long-suffering recluse that ignored her own needs in favor of his. With her hair swept back in a bun most of the time and no makeup, she had, just as surely as Kirk, sentenced herself to the boundaries within that antiquated old mansion. She’d made a comfortable home for them, never thinking about herself. It had been hard on her, and Chyna hadn’t made it any easier.

And what about Quinn? Had these ten years made him what he was today? Manipulative, controlling, and cruel. Chyna had learned early on that Quinn’s good looks were only skin deep, and she could see an emptiness in him that nothing could fill. Not wealth, power, or even love because Quinn was on a downward spiral. Those ten long years had created another monster— the one inside Quinn. When Quinn looked into Kirk’s face he saw his own monster buried deep inside him and lashed out at it. But the damning words he said speared Kirk, making him believe that he
was
a monster, he
was
a freak, he
was
an insect, and he didn’t deserve any better than that basement. Quinn didn’t know it, but the monster inside him that grew with each passing day was ruling his life—all their lives—making them what they were. On one hand Quinn knew he was handsome, but the monster inside kept rearing it’s ugly head in the person of Kirk Grayson, reminding him that he wasn’t good enough to attract any woman, much less one like Chyna Marsh. Feeling inadequate, he resorted to trickery, using the old widow and Venita. Quinn wasn’t used to anyone standing against him, and when Chyna did, the monster inside him came out.

If she wouldn’t love him, then she would hate him.

If he couldn’t have her for a lifetime, then today, now, the present would have to do. Yes, he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted—and what he wanted, was Chyna.

No one knew it,
but the coin was beginning to turn
.

Chyna’s eyes moved down slowly, almost fearfully to Kirk’s wrists, and gently took them in her hands. When she turned them over, she gasped when she saw the scars. "Oh, my God,” she whispered. “I can't believe I've never noticed them before."