Shadow Lover (Siren Publishing Allure) (33 page)

"May I speak with Chyna Marsh?"

Quinn’s curiosity was piqued. "She isn't here now, but she should be back soon. May I take a message?"

"Yes. This is Serena Rush of Luster Publishing. I've just read Chyna's latest submission. There was some question about us handling it, but you can tell her we're very excited about it. It is somewhat out of our realm, but it's a fascinating piece of work, and we can't imagine anyone else handling it."

"She sent you a novel?"

"Yes. Please be sure to tell her we love it and think it's the best thing she's ever written.”

“Oh, uh…yes…yes, she’ll be pleased to hear that.”

“Tell her I would appreciate a call back. I need to know if she intends to put in an author’s note, a dedication, things like that."

"By the way, just which one is it? I mean Chyna writes so many, I just can't keep up."

"It's called,
Face in the Shadows.
It’s a fascinating story about a man living in the cellar of an old mansion with a severely scarred face."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Oh yes, that one. Well, you can be sure that I'll give her the message."

Just as Quinn was putting down the receiver, his eyes turned toward the line of windows along the study wall and saw Chyna’s car crunching up the driveway. With his well known smirk in place, he leaned back, rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and touched his dimpled chin in prayer fashion. Finally he heard Chyna opening the door. "Chyna!"

Chyna immediately stiffened. She hesitantly came in and stood in the doorway of the study. "Yes?"

He gave her a sly look. "I have good news for you."

"Quinn, please make this short, I've got a lot of things to do."

He got up from the desk. "And just what is it that takes up so much of your time here lately, Chyna? You're not writing another book are you?"

"What do you mean?"

He slowly rose from his chair and walked up to her. Lifting his hand, he boldly fingered a lock of her hair. "Your publisher just called."

Chyna felt fear rise up in her.

"Apparently they are very excited about your new book, and have decided to publish it for you."

Chyna was silent, wondering when he would set off the explosion.

"I believe it's called, uh…what was the name again? Oh yes,
Face in the Shadows.
You know, the one about a man living in a cellar? Fascinating. Scarred face, and all that. A compelling story I’m sure, but nothing like your others.”

"Quinn, you don't understand. I'm doing this for K…"

"Oh, I think I understand perfectly, but I don't know that Kirk is going to understand—" He lifted his eyes and looked at her. "—when I tell him."

Chyna's eyes widened in fear. "Quinn, you wouldn't do that. I’m going to tell him, but in time, in my own way. Please Quinn, don't do this."

He reached down and began gently pushing her hair back. "Just look at that beautiful face,” he said with mocking sadness. “You look like you're going to cry."

"Quinn, if you tell him, it'll kill him. He won't understand unless I…"

Quinn paused, an evil smile playing along his lips. He knew he had her just where he wanted her. So, full of serious pretense, he put his hands in his pockets, and looked down at the floor. "You really want me to keep my mouth shut?"

"I'm not only asking, Quinn, I'm begging. For Kirk's sake, please don't."

"And, uh—" He cut his eyes up to her. “—just what are you willing to do to ensure my silence?"

"I don't know, anything I guess." She gulped. "What do you want?"

He laughed. "Don't play dumb, Chyna." He chucked her chin, speaking huskily. "You know what I want."

"I'll pay you, Quinn. I'll give you everything I receive on the book. It'll be a bestseller, Quinn. You'll be rich."

"Chyna. I have all the money I need, I don't need yours."

"Then I'll leave Kirk and never bother him again. I'll just disappear. He won't know where to find me."

"My, my, how dramatic. Sounds like a plot for yet another novel." His eyes hovered toward the ceiling, his fingers rubbing his chin. "Let's see now, the heroine promises to give up the man she loves if the villain won't tell him the secret that will hurt him needlessly." He cut his eyes over to her and snickered. "Sorry, but that one won't sell, Chyna. Too corny."

"Then I don't know what to give you."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't you?"

They were both silent as they stared into each other's eyes.

Suddenly he reached out and squeezed the tops of her arms, pulling her up to him as if he were going to kiss her, then spoke very low and husky. "Tonight. Wear the sheer little babydoll and everything that goes with it. I want you to model it for me…in my bedroom."

"You perverted creep. I wouldn't…"

All at once Quinn pushed her away and looked down at his watch. "I'm late. Have to get to the hospital." Then he looked at her with expressive eyes. "You know, see how Kirk is doing, and let him know what's been happening around the place." He smiled. “He’ll love the news about your book.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Quinn, I can't."

Quinn’s eyes narrowed on her. "You apparently don't care what happens to Kirk, right?"

She looked up at him. "Quinn, I don't understand your obsession with me. A man like you could have any woman he wants. Why me?"

His eyes burned as he looked at her. "You may write hellish books, but you've sure got a bad memory, baby. Don't tell me you’ve forgotten me telling you that I wanted a sample of what you've got. Hell, I know you’ll fight me, but I don’t care. I love your bites and scratches. I love feeling you pushing yourself against me. But before it’s over, I promise you, you’ll beg me to fuck the hell out of you, then scream with an orgasm that sends you into orbit.”

"But I don't want…"

"I don't give a friggin' damn what you want! I don't care what you do to get yourself ready. Imagine I'm Kirk, read one of your smutty novels. All I know is you’d better be ready for me, or be a damned good actress. Understood? And Chyna, you’d better be convincing. No more cold fish imitations."

Tears flooded her eyes, and she nodded.

* * * *

Since the day Dr. Wilder told Chyna he would help her, he and Elaine had been collecting everything they could find about Chyna and leaving it lying around in Kirk's room. In addition to taping all of Chyna’s interviews and replaying them for Kirk whenever they got the chance, Elaine brought in only magazines with Chyna's pictures in them, bought her books and laid them around Kirk’s room, and she and Dr. Wilder talked about Chyna night and day over Kirk's bed.

Now Kirk was sitting up, leafing through some magazines. Everything he saw either had Chyna's picture on the front or a spread inside. He threw them aside in anger, then picked up a book and saw it was one of hers with her picture on the back cover. He got so mad he threw it across the room toward the door just as Dr. Wilder was entering.

"Whoa! What's the matter, Kirk?"

"I'm tired of seeing her face on everything I pick up. Get it out of here, now. And if I see her interviewed on TV one more time I'm gonna personally make sure that TV meets up with an accident."

"Kirk, your bill will be high enough, I don't think you want to add the cost of a broken TV on it." While Kirk wasn’t looking, the doctor walked over and furtively slipped in a tape of Chyna's interview with the press after Reyna Phillips' funeral.

It reminded Kirk of the day they were in Reyna’s hotel room. He tried to tune it out, but it was still there, her voice stabbing his brain like an ice pick. In desperation he pulled a pillow over his head, but it did no good. Finally, he picked up a magazine and saw her picture staring back at him. Losing control, he began throwing everything, and started for the TV when the doctor caught him and made him lay back down.

"Now, Kirk, I don't want to have to sedate you again. You know, if you're a good boy you'll be ready to go home in a couple of days. Are there any special arrangements you want me to make concerning who will pick you up?"

"Elaine can drive me."

"I'm sorry, but I can't spare her. Too busy."

"Then Quinn."

"I'm afraid not. Quinn's got other things to do."

Kirk looked up at him, knowing something was up. "What in hell is this? Then you can take me!"

"Kirk, I'm on call. I can't leave the hospital."

"Cab?” Kirk said, frowning at him suspiciously.

“On strike.”

“Then I'll walk, dammit, but that…that…
woman,
that knows every dirty word in the English language, isn't going to drive me anywhere."

"My, my, you're awfully angry. You know, it takes a lot of anger to stay as mad as you have since you and Chyna broke up. You should have gotten over it a long time ago. What did she do that was so bad?"

Tears gathered in Kirk's eyes. "Well, she…"

"Did you get the whole story from Chyna, or did you get it from someone who is a habitual liar? Or, maybe you just assumed you knew, right?"

Surprised, Kirk looked up at him thinking about what he was saying and wondered if he'd been a fool—again.

The phone rang and Chyna picked it up, recognizing the rasping voice of Dr. Wilder. “Tonight's the night,” he said with a rasping voice. “Kirk's as ready as he'll ever be. Get over here about midnight, dressed for the occasion.”

Chyna softly replaced the receiver, then looked up at the clock. A quarter to ten. Only two hours until she had to be at the hospital. She felt tempted to run out of the mansion, leaving Quinn high and dry, but she didn’t dare. She knew he would make good on his threat, and she couldn’t take the chance. She looked down at her babydoll and felt shameless. When she had tried it on at the store, it looked alluring, sexy, but that was when her intention was to wear it for Kirk. Now, wearing it for Quinn made her feel cheap and tawdry. With a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, she ran a brush through her hair, then walked toward her bedroom door, and opened it. Like a zombie she walked through the shadowy hall to Quinn’s room.

When she stepped in, Quinn gasped when he saw her.

"Oh, my God," he whispered as he looked at her. "You're more beautiful than I ever imagined." He couldn’t take his eyes off her perfectly formed breasts that jutted out seductively within the soft flowery folds. They boldly flaunted themselves, so full and round and ready for his touch. He saw the perfect flow of her body that looked smooth and soft underneath the shadowy folds of the garment. Then he saw the delicate strings of the thong stretched along her hips, spreading the tiny delicate patch of material as if guarding the national treasure. And at last her long shapely legs seductive under the dark, sexy fishnet hose he knew would shortly be winding themselves around him. The fur on her shoes softly fluttered in the breeze as her feet moved toward him. He couldn’t wait for her to get to him, he had to go to her. He slowly rose from the bed and walked over to her. Grasping her shoulders he looked down at her, hardly being able to take his eyes off her soft feminine lines. He pulled her up to him, and touched her lips with his. They were fragrant and soft.

Knowing she had to be responsive, Chyna parted her lips, and could feel the hardness of his body against hers. A body she had once longed for. But that was before Kirk, and after Quinn’s true character came to light. She tried to keep from retching as his hands moved over her body, caressing her as if she were made of gold. She quickly closed her eyes and thought of Kirk.

"Love me, Chyna, please love me," he whispered, his face buried in her hair. Leaning over, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"Turn off the light," she whispered to him.

"But I want to see you."

"Please."

He turned and clicked off the lamp.

Chyna felt better in the darkness. It was so complete, she couldn't see her shadowy handler, but could imagine that the dark body that rose over her was Kirk. His hands were Kirk's. His lips must be Kirk's. His body had to be Kirk's. Thinking of him, she began to get aroused. This man of shadows moved his mouth over her breasts, drawing on them. His fingers reached under the thong, pulling on it, and breathing heavily in her ear. His moans filled the room as he pressed against her. She saw his silhouette move above her and force her legs apart. In the dark, her lush lips kept repeating,
Kirk…Kirk…Kirk!

Down in the parlor, the big grandfather clock began bonging out the hour, and over in the lighthouse the witch was rasping out a spell, and looking down into her crystal ball—

As the flame of desire builds within

him, so shall the flames of madness

blind him…

Satan's fire, blaze so bright,

surround the evil with hellish light.

Burn into ashes, turn into smoke

fill his lungs, and make the bastard

choke!

All at once Chyna’s shadowy partner looked up. "Oh, my God!" he cried. "Fire! Fire!"