by Juniper Hart
“Come on in, Gena,” he replied, gesturing for her to enter. She cautiously ventured into the room, glancing about the ceiling-to-floor bookshelves. “Are you much of a reader?” he asked conversationally, noting her awed expression. She quickly slipped a mask of stoicism onto her delicate face and shrugged.
“I know how to read,” she retorted sarcastically. “It’s a prerequisite for nursing school.”
Arden cringed at her tone. So she still has her guard up. That is to be expected, considering how I treated her. She is in a tough position. I have to give her some time to adjust. None of this is her fault.
“There is something in here for everyone; fantasy, sci-fi, drama, documentaries,” he told her. “Feel free to grab whatever inspires you.”
“I guess I won’t have many other options, will I?” she said. “What else is there to do, locked away from the world?”
Arden felt himself tensing at her tone. She’s acting like she’s a prisoner. She can leave if she thinks she’ll fare better out there. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything of the sort. With this new development, knowing that Gena had been turned, he needed to keep her near. If she showed herself to the world, there would be no escaping scrutiny from the Council or Theo Veriday.
“Oh, we have other creature comforts here,” he said easily, rising from his chair. “Cable, internet, Prime Video, Netflix, an expansive DVD collection. I have been thinking about getting some horses. Do you like to ride?”
Gena snorted, but she couldn’t hide the excitement in her face from him. He had piqued her interest.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to ride since finishing school!” she declared in a faux Southern accent. Arden was beginning to lose his temper.
“Look, Gena, I know you’re mad at the situation—”
“No, Mr. Morrow, I am mad at you. You could have stopped it from spiraling so stupidly out of control, but you didn’t,” she interrupted, her hazel eyes narrowing. Arden felt an unwarranted twitch in his heart as he watched her.
There’s that fire, he thought, his pulse picking up speed slightly. Unwittingly, a small smile toyed at his lips. He instantly recognized his mistake as Gena’s eyes widened in fury.
“Is this a joke to you?” she cried, bounding forward. “My life is ruined because you couldn’t make one little phone call, and you’re amused?”
“No—” Arden began to protest. To his shock, Gena grabbed his head and crushed her mouth to his. The feel of her soft, supple lips caused him to respond without thinking, and he was eagerly returning her angry embrace before he could stop himself. His hand encircled her freshly washed waves, and their tongues met in a jolt of electricity. As his hand caressed the bare skin of her shoulder, he did not immediately clue into the fact that hers remained firmly at her side.
She is so alive, so passionate, he thought, his fingers tracing the soft flesh along her chest bone. Their mouths continued to swirl in a heated combination of teeth and lips. The fire he had seen in her face blended into the touch of her skin, and suddenly, Arden didn’t know where he started and she ended.
Dancing him backward, his back fell against the desk, on top of the papers he had been signing. The sheets fell over the floor, but Arden barely noticed, his hands reaching to pull her shirt over her head before drawing her mouth back to his as she straddled him. Their eyes locked, and Arden could feel the beat of her heart through his chest.
Heat exploded between them. Gena’s hair trailed along the ripped muscles of his abs as she worked lower, her eyes gleaming when she pulled his pants from his body.
I shouldn’t be encouraging this, Arden thought with futility, but he was lost in the feeling of her closeness. This was what he had wanted all along, wasn’t it?
Naked now, their bodies melded together, and Arden felt a surge of energy rock through him like he’d never known. His eyes bugged with shock, hands splayed across Gena’s hips as they fell into a primal rhythm, and in that moment, Arden knew he had finally found his mate.
The bittersweet irony was not lost on him. He was dying, and the gods had bound him with Gena as if to mock him.
His hands cupped her swollen breasts, her cries radiating through the room to fill his ears and rise himself to a level of pleasure he had craved but never achieved. With a shudder and low groan, Arden met her release with his own, pulling Gena’s lithe body back against him to relish the sensation of her heartbeat against him. For the first time since learning about his plight, his destiny to die, Arden felt alive.
Like I’ve been cured.
Of course, that was impossible. He wasn’t, and this heady feeling that had overcome him was bound to dissipate as reality set in, but for the time, Arden intended to revel in it.
“This is why you brought me here, isn’t it?” Gena murmured then. Instantly, Arden tensed, the feeling of elation vanishing almost as quickly as it had come.
“No,” he snapped gruffly, raising her up to meet her eyes. “This is not why I brought you here. I brought you here because I felt responsible for what happened to you. This never played a thought in my head.”
Confusion overwhelmed Gena’s expression, and she regarded his face. She seemed half-child, half immortal in that light, as if she was trying to make sense of her own feelings.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, dismounting him and reaching for her clothes quickly.
“Gena…” Arden called, trying to stop her, but she disappeared through the entranceway before he could say another word. With his heart racing, he hung his head into his open palms, wiping at his face as if trying to wipe away the attraction he felt toward Gena Averson.
I made a mistake bringing her here.
Lifting his head, he wondered if it was really Gena who was the one in trouble.
“Gena?” He knocked more sharply the second time. There was still no response.
Where could she have gone? Arden wondered, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was worried that she had run, mortified at what had transpired moments before. God, I hope not. He had come upstairs to make peace with her. If they were to live under the same roof indefinitely, they could not go about doing so with strange undercurrents. Can she not tell she’s my mate?
“Hey, Mr. Morrow,” Shawna called, exiting the bathroom at the end of the hall with her cleaning tray.
“Have you seen Gena?” he asked.
“I sent her to see you an hour ago,” she said, concern overcoming her face. “She didn’t come?”
Arden cleared his throat in embarrassment, recalling the incident in the study. She did.
“No, I mean in the past ten minutes or so,” he clarified. Shawna looked relieved.
“Well, then, no, I haven’t, but I know she was eyeing the old barn out back this morning at breakfast. Apparently, she has always wanted to learn how to ride horses.” Arden swallowed a smile.
And I thought she learned how to ride in finishing school, he thought dryly. He grinned and winked at Shawna.
“Thanks.”
As his housekeeper had predicted, Gena was sitting on a bale of stale hay, reading Oliver Twist when Arden found her.
When did he manage to squirrel that away? She’s stealthy. I’ll have to keep an eye on her.
“Damnit, is nowhere sacred around here?” she bemoaned as he opened the abandoned stall door. Arden grinned.
“It doesn’t seem so big when you’re trying to hide, does it?”
“Listen, I already apologized for before,” she said, her back visibly tensing as Arden drew closer. Ignoring her tone, he sat beside her in the straw but at a decent distance.
“I know you’re not in your element right now, Gena, and I am not here to make this transition any more difficult than it already is. I just wanted to tell you that I am your friend, and I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us, okay?”
Gena looked up at him uncertainly. “You’re awfully understanding for a big shot movie star,” she told him. Arden chuckled.
“
I wasn’t always a big shot movie star,” he replied, studying her face closely. “I’ve lived many lives.” He wondered if that meant anything to her, but she didn’t seem to understand.
“Mr. Morrow—”
“Okay, seriously, you’re going to have to start calling me Arden. I’m Arden, Malik is Malik, and Shawna is Shawna. We’re all friends here, got it?”
“I heard Shawna call you Mr. Morrow,” Gena mentioned absently. Arden felt his face flush crimson. In five years, it had never occurred to him to change the formal way his housekeeper had addressed him. Hollywood had changed him. Fifteen years ago, he would have never stood for any of his employees calling him by his last name.
“You’re right. And that changes today,” he finally answered, but he realized that Gena was barely listening to him. “Is there something else on your mind? Something you want to talk about?” he asked. She glanced about nervously, not wanting to meet his eyes.
Is she going to tell me how she was turned and by whom? Does she remember? He was reluctant to push the issue, though he knew, sooner or later, he would have to find out.
“Gena, like I just said, we are friends who are more or less trapped together for God knows how long. You may as well start talking.”
“I need something from my house,” she whispered, her cheeks a hot pink which flooded toward her sweet, pixie-like ears.
“It’s funny you should say that. That was the reason I called you into the study in the first place. I figured you would need things from the house. We’ll make a list and hire someone to go get whatever you need. What is it? Clothes, I imagine. Laptop? Cell phone?” Gena still did not meet his eyes. “Gena? What is it?”
She sighed heavily and turned her honey-colored eyes upon him. “My cat. I need my mangy, disgusting cat.”
13
An easy truce fell between Arden and Gena.
For the first time since she had met the man, Gena began to regard him as an actual human being, not merely a teenage heartthrob. Prior to their bizarre meeting, she had never really considered him to be a flesh and blood person with emotions and a background. Maybe because he had always been so far removed from her own life. After all, what could she ever have in common with such a man?
They still maintained different rooms in the house, but when they were sure they were alone, they stole kisses in the shadows of the hallways, and whatever it was that Gena felt for him seemed to be growing.
In the back of her mind was the incident that had happened at the hospital, but the more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that she had imagined it. There was no attack. There was nothing but some weird lucid dream you had. The marks she had thought she’d had on her neck had disappeared, only confirming her theory.
When she called Hodgeson Memorial Hospital, she learned that Millie Aldwin had passed away on the very night she’d been fired.
The afternoon sun was beginning to filter through the bay window of her bedroom, and Gena could see nothing but acres of undisturbed farmland beyond the cliché red barn. The workers had successfully finished the wrought iron gate surrounding the property, but there was so much land, Gena could not make out the detail of the posts from her spot. Someone had located a MacBook for her, placing the white topped computer upon the gleaming wood desk facing the otherwise unobstructed view.
I wish I was an artist or a writer. This is definitely the place to do art, she thought as the sun’s playful rays tickled the cornfields. Wistfully, she wondered if Arden had been sincere about obtaining horses. Since she was a child, she had been enthralled with the beasts, longing to stroke their manes and ride freely upon their backs. Any time she had ever seen someone riding a horse on television, they had always seemed so removed from any worries.
Stop indulging in childish fantasies, she scolded herself. Even if he does get horses, he isn’t going to get them now, not in the middle of this mess. You’ll be gone by the time any stallions step hoof onto this property. She did not ask herself where she would be gone to at that point. The thought filled her with dread. She was painfully aware of how broke she was and how much of a pariah she had become.
Gena knew she was going to have no choice but to leave Apple Orchard and start anew somewhere when it was over. The looming question became, where? And what would she do? She had no references to speak of—Hodgeson Memorial certainly wasn’t about to do her any favors, not with the calamity she had brought into their midst.
I bet they would keep a future employer on the phone for half an hour regaling them with my disastrous deeds. I’m going to be flipping burgers at a burger joint for the rest of my life.
At the end of it, Gena did not want to admit to herself something that had always kept her rooted in Apple Orchard; she was afraid to move anywhere else. It was the only place she had ever known, and sometimes she wondered if she harbored the hope that her father would return one day.
Your daddy issues are keeping you here. That’s just great, Gena.
Bile had risen into Gena’s throat, and she tried to coax it down with deep breaths, but she could not abolish the sense of doom which cast an umbra over her head.
As long as I am in this house, I am still in Apple Orchard, and we have no idea how long that will last. Maybe Shari Jespers has written another fake story, she thought with morbid optimism.
Gena had no way of knowing that Shari Jespers was in the process of collecting what she considered to be the final nails in Arden Morrow’s coffin. As the plastic redhead punched furiously away at her computer, her office line rang.
“Jespers.”
“Hey, Shari, it’s Helena.”
Shari paused from her task, her eyes lighting up at the sound of the junior reporter’s voice. Helena had been tasked with staying in Apple Orchard, but nothing of sustenance had come through for days.
“Oh, baby, what have you got?” she demanded. “Gimme something good, because I am just about to send this piece in for publication.”
“No, no, I don’t have anything new,” Helena answered quickly. “I think the trail has gone cold here.”
“Don’t give up hope, kid. Stay put until I tell you to go somewhere else.”
“No, Shari, seriously, the Averson girl isn’t here anymore. The landlord came by and slapped an eviction letter on her door. She’s got a three day or quit notice. There hasn’t been a single movement in the house in five days. She’s vanished.”
Shari was silent for a moment, considering Helena’s words. “So, she’s learned to hide better. But an eviction notice is good! Even if she has gone somewhere else, she has to come back for her stuff. I wonder where Arden is setting her up.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Shari…”
Jespers felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise at Helena’s tone. “What’s the thing?” she hissed. “What did you do? Or not do?”
Helena let out a long sigh. “A woman came to the house, let herself in with the key, and left a few minutes later with a box.”
“Dammit, Helena, tell me you had the presence of mind to follow her.”
“Yeah, me and Basil did—along with a dozen other cars. She made no effort to hide herself.”
“Well?” Shari snapped impatiently. “Where did she go?”
“She drove to the only moderately decent hotel in this one-horse town, a HoJo, and went inside with the box. By the time we got into the lobby, she was gone. Gena Averson was not on the registry, nor, of course, was Arden Morrow.”
“Well, was the courier’s car still in the lot?”
“Yes…”
“But?” Shari shrieked. “But what?”
“We waited in the lot the entire night, and at eight o’clock the following morning, some guy from Enterprise picked it up. It was a rental. The woman knew she was being followed and managed to shake us. She probably walked right through the lobby out the back entrance, where another car was already waiting.”
Shari grunted and pounded her fists on the table. Gena Averson had
disappeared, but where could she have gone?
Suddenly, the waxen woman smiled and nodded. “Keep your phone on. I’ll text you the address of where she is, but don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, do you hear me, Helena?”
“Of course, boss!” she replied eagerly.
As Shari hung up the phone, she was flooded with conflicting emotions. I’m missing something here, something big, she thought, her sixth sense screaming at her. This is much more than just a cheating scandal, and I can feel it. It was up to her to figure out what the hell it was exactly.
“Oh!” Gena and Arden collided with one another like something out of a Three Stooges skit. Falling backward and scrambling to gather their footing, they both began to laugh. “Sorry!” they cried in unison and chuckled again. They stood awkwardly, staring at one another for a moment until Gena’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, peering into his eyes. They were sunken, and his face was gaunt, but it was difficult to tell with the charismatic smile he wore. His beam faded slightly at the question, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m fine. What are you up to right now?” he replied shortly.
Gena glanced down at the book in her hands. She was going to retreat to the sanctuary of her room and read. He followed her gaze and grimaced.
“You know, Gena, when I asked you to stay here, I didn’t mean for you to hide out. This house may not be a Beverly Hills mansion, but there is still room for both of us to live comfortably. I imagine at one time, there were maybe even four or five people living here!”
Gena smiled, slightly embarrassed. In truth, she hadn’t been a hundred percent sure how to act in the house. She spent most of her time hiding out in her room or in the barn, but that afternoon, she could smell a dampness in the air, indicating a storm was brewing.
“Would you be up for watching a movie with me?” Arden asked. She glanced up at him, suddenly shy at the offer.
Is he asking me on a date? She immediately felt like kicking herself for such a girlish thought. They had been intimate once, and she still felt somewhat shy in his midst, even with the small touches between them.