Dark Descent into Desire

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Dark Descent into Desire Page 40

by J. J. Sorel


  “But equal pay, the vote…” I argued.

  She sighed. “I liked being a kept woman. I didn’t do one day of work in my life. So what does that make me?”

  “You came from another time. These days, women’s voices need to be heard. We are part of the workforce. And at least we’re finally being listened to in matters of abuse.”

  Her brows drew in slightly. “I’ll own my wealthy, idle lifestyle guilt-free, thank you. That’s why I married Ashley and gave up the only man I’d ever loved.” A cigarette trembled in her hand.

  “You wished you hadn’t married Ashley?” I asked, dying to know what had happened to Monty.

  Aggie looked at me, and said, “Ava.” I braced myself, expecting an admonishment for asking a question. “You’re very beautiful. You could and should be able to dictate your own terms, dear girl. Don’t let all that feminist nonsense about being independent and doing your own heavy lifting force you into a lonely, loveless existence.”

  “But you didn’t go down that independent path, and I sense your loneliness,” I argued.

  “That’s because I chose the wrong man. The one I should have chosen, had I been less impulsive, would have given me everything: wealth, love, passion, and probably children.” Her voice quivered.

  I turned sharply to study her.

  She was wearing shades, so I couldn’t see her eyes.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I take it you didn’t give birth.”

  She puffed out some smoke. “Ashley was firing blanks, as they say.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Enough of that. I’m good. Life’s good. I have all the martinis I want. I have some superb memories. And Monty visits me all the time.”

  “In your dreams?” I asked.

  “Oh, everywhere. He’s everywhere.” She pointed. “Oh look, there’s Melissa Bloom swanning about with that young, dark and handsome guitarist. He’s young enough to be her son.”

  “Do you have photos?” I asked.

  “I have plenty of photos.”

  “I’d love to see them,” I said.

  “Let’s leave the past alone. And you, Ava”—she pointed at me— “must promise me to go and get this Bronson fellow and give him what he wants and more. If we use our feminine charm and wiles to our best, men eat out of our hands. That gives us control. It always has.” She followed that with a throaty laugh. “And he’s already been somewhere private and intimate. He’s yours now. Call him. Live dangerously.”

  She sat down again. “Now read to me. The part where Heathcliff visits Catherine for the first time in her marital home, just before she’s about to die.”

  I’d lost count of how many times I’d read those passages of Heathcliff declaring his undying love by pledging to meet Cathy beyond the grave.

  As I read on, Aggie’s body surrendered into the chair, as though those words had been intended for her and not the dying heroine.

  I left Aggie at eight, asleep on the sofa. As usual, I offered to walk her up the stairs to her bedroom, but she’d murmured for me to leave her alone. She had, however, encouraged me to call Bronson. Not that it took much convincing, and the martini helped.

  I ran down the stairs, and after my breath settled, I leaned against a wall in the quiet lobby and pressed Bronson’s number.

  My sticky palm gripped the cell tightly as I waited for an answer.

  “Ava.” His sexy rasp helped settle my pounding heart. The fact he’d picked up straight away helped too.

  “I just rang to say hello…” I said.

  “I’m glad you did. It’s nice to hear your voice,” he said.

  Even on the phone, that low, husky voice of his caused a swelling ache in my groin.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to catch up for a drink or something…” I stammered again. What had happened to me? I’d always been comfortable talking to anyone.

  “Where are you now?”

  “I’m on Fifth Avenue.”

  “It’s a nice evening. How about we meet in Central Park? Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Let’s meet there. I can be there in thirty minutes,” he said.

  “Okay. How about at the angel fountain?”

  “Sure. The perfect place to meet an angel.”

  I chuckled nervously. “Okay, then…” I lingered for some reason.

  “I’m glad you called, Ava.”

  Not knowing what to say, I uttered, “Bye.”

  Suddenly it hit me. I looked horrible. I had no makeup on and was dressed in jeans and a loose blouse. As usual, I hadn’t really thought about my clothes that day.

  Passing a shop window, I looked at myself in the reflection. A big smile had supplanted the long face I’d been carrying around all week, and my cheeks had a healthy streak of pink. That would just have to do, I thought.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BRONSON

  When I heard Ava’s breathy voice, my earlier resolve to put off seeing her until I cleared my name vanished there and then. She’d been on my mind all week. All I could think of was how Ava felt. The promise of finishing what we’d started dominated every cell in my body.

  Although I had to put the finishing touches to my designs, given that a meeting with the council had been set for the next day, I dropped everything. Luckily, I’d just showered after another long day working at a dusty building site. I changed into a fresh shirt, and then instead of driving my new car, I grabbed a cab to avoid the nightmare of parking.

  Even standing among a crowd by the fountain, Ava stood out. Dressed in jeans that hugged her curves nicely, she had that natural appearance I preferred in women.

  Noticing me heading toward her, she smiled shyly. The closer I got, the brighter her smile grew, which helped me loosen up a bit.

  As I bent down to kiss her cheek, a scent of jasmine flooded me with memories of how she’d felt the night of the engagement party.

  “Hey,” I said. “Sorry. The traffic was crazy.”

  “Hey, that’s cool. I only called an hour ago.” That same unsure expression touched her face again.

  Without makeup, Ava was even more beautiful. Noticing my blatant ogling, she said, “I’m sorry about my casual look. I’ve just finished work. It was a spontaneous decision to call you.”

  I took her hand. “Hey, I’m glad you did.”

  Her eyebrows shifted slightly, and then, pulling her gaze away from mine, she said, “This is such a beautiful fountain.”

  I nodded. “I’ve always been fond of it myself. I used to come here as a child and pray.”

  “Are you religious?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I’m looking for something.”

  “Tell me when you’ve found it. I stopped looking a while back,” she said with a dry tone.

  “But you’re still young, Ava. Miracles happen. Or at least, I hope they do. So far, only one’s happened for me.”

  Her head tilted. “Only one?”

  “That’s enough, isn’t it?” I asked, taking her by the hand. “Come, let’s walk.”

  Ava studied me. I could see her mind ticking over. “I guess,” she replied, as we sauntered down to the tree-lined avenue.

  She stopped walking. “Am I allowed to know what that miracle was?”

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, being deliberately evasive.

  “I am.” Ava stopped walking and faced me. “You changed the subject.”

  “I’m too hungry to go into anything deep, Ava.” I paused, stealing another look of her pretty face. “What do you feel like eating?”

  “I’m not exactly dressed for eating out. I didn’t call you for a dinner date or anything.”

  “Why did you call?” I stopped walking and faced her.

  A glimmer of a smile touched the side of her mouth. “You tell me your miracle first.”

  I was quickly learning that beneath that shy smile existed a feisty woman. Having always been a sucker for a woman who stood her ground, I liked that.

/>   Returning Ava’s challenge with a half grin, I replied, “Let’s eat, first. And by the way, you look great, especially in those jeans. They were made for you.”

  “I’ve been on the cakes again. I’m a bit chubby.” Her mouth turned down.

  I couldn’t help but check out her ass, which was the sexiest, curviest butt I’d ever seen. “As wicked as you make it sound, I like the result.” As she stared at me, trying to see if I was for real, my grin faded. “You’re perfect, Ava.” I stood close and stroked her arm.

  She pulled her arm away, and although she did it gently, it still felt abrupt.

  “Is there something the matter?” I asked.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, Ava. Let’s grab something to eat. Then we can talk.”

  That little touch of her arm still tingled on my fingers as we walked side by side. With each step, I was pulled in closer, as if drawn to her by a magnet. I even felt a spark when her shoulder touched my arm.

  We headed toward the lake and noticed a café.

  “That looks inviting,” I said, turning to Ava.

  “Yeah. Why not.” She smiled shyly again as if we’d only just met.

  The balmy, still evening was perfect for dining outside.

  After the waiter directed us to a table with a fantastic view of the lake, I asked, “What would you like to drink?”

  “A chardonnay,” Ava said, looking up at the waiter.

  When the waiter returned his focus to me, I said, “I’ll have a Corona, and the menu, please.” He nodded and set down two menus. “Have whatever you want, Ava. My life’s about to change.”

  “Oh?” Her forehead creased.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Another one.” She cocked her head slightly. “I’m a good listener, you know.”

  A wisp of hair had fallen over her high cheekbone, which I gently brushed aside. “You looked beautiful the other night, Ava. I wish I had a photograph.”

  Her eyebrows gathered tightly. “You haven’t called me, but yet you want a photo?”

  I sighed. “Okay, look…” The waiter turned up and delivered our drinks just in the nick of time. I needed something badly to help ease this rise of emotion between us.

  Lowering our drinks onto the table, he asked, “Are you ready to order?”

  I nodded and looked over at Ava.

  “You go first,” she replied.

  “I’ll have the grilled steak, medium, fries, and salad,” I said.

  The waiter scribbled that down and then looked over at Ava who replied, “I’ll have the same, thanks.”

  After he left, Ava looked up at me. “You were saying?”

  Taking a deep breath, I said, “You know about my recent…”

  “Stint in prison,” she said.

  I knitted my fingers. “I’m innocent. I’ve already told you that. But I need you to believe that. I need to prove it to you. So that you don’t keep staring at me the way you do.”

  Her head pushed back. “What do you mean?”

  Staring down at my fingers, I sought the right words. “I guess it’s like you’re trying to figure out if I’m bad or some kind of loser not to be trusted.”

  Her brow crumpled in disbelief. “That’s not what I see when I look at you. That’s your own insecurity talking, Bronson.”

  “Then why do you always have that puzzled, almost suspicious frown whenever I say something? Like now, for instance.”

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. It’s just that you’re a pretty intense guy… I feel like there’s so much going on inside of you, that any minute something might erupt. It’s not because I think you’re a criminal. I find you fascinating. And to be honest, I believe you.”

  It took me a moment to still my frazzled emotions before her last comment finally hit me. I looked up sharply. “What did you say?”

  “I believe you,” she said with a reassuring smile.

  Whatever had kept me bound for weeks, especially since meeting Ava, released its hold on me. I could breathe at last.

  Placing my hand in hers, I said, “Thank you. I can’t tell you what hearing those words means to me.”

  A compassionate smile radiated from her. “That’s understandable. What happened to you is so reprehensible, it infuriates me, to be honest.” She nodded decisively. “The more I’ve come to know Justin, particularly this last month, the more I’ve noticed something rotten in there. Whereas”—she paused while I caressed her hand—“I believe you’re genuine.” While Ava took a sip of wine, I searched for something to say. But then, she added, “Justin’s got a drug habit. And I’ve seen how much he’s challenged by you. He’s jealous. He admitted that much the other night when he came to my place. Uninvited, I might add.”

  My brow gathered tightly. “Uninvited? Did he try to hurt you? Or force himself on you again? Tell me.”

  Ava flinched at my aggressive tone. “Not really… Although it was stupid of me to let him in. But I managed to kick him out.”

  The pounding in my chest settled a little. I placed my hand on top of hers. “Promise me that if he ever comes near you, you’ll call me straight away.”

  She nodded.

  As our hands remained in a tight clutch, it felt as though I’d known Ava all my life and that I’d arrived somewhere comfortable and familiar at last.

  “You really believe me, then?” A faint, hopeful light brightened my spirit.

  She nodded slowly. “I do. You’ve got this depth about you that I’ve never experienced in anyone before. You strike me as being honest.”

  I took her hand and kissed it. “I’m so glad you called me, Ava.” Now it was my turn to be inquisitive. “Why did you call me?”

  Her cheeks reddened slightly. “Aggie suggested it.”

  “The woman you read to?”

  “Uh-huh.” She toyed with her glass before lifting her eyes up to meet mine.

  I wanted to devour that shy smile. Ava unconsciously teased me when her sweet tongue swept over her rosy sensual lips. “If you keep doing that, Ava, I’m going to have to take you here in the gardens and finish off what we started.”

  She laughed. “That could get us arrested.”

  “So Aggie suggested you call me, ah? Did you tell her about us?”

  “Us?” she asked.

  “For me, there’s an us.” A half smile grew at the side of my mouth. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes, I told her about you. She’d already guessed, anyhow. Aggie’s clairvoyant. I’m certain. She freaks me out, to be honest.” She paused for a response. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just nodded. “Anyway, she noticed something in my mood and asked if I’d met someone. That was the day after that night…”

  “Hm… I’ve been hard all week because of that night.” Noticing her eyes switch from my face to her fingers, I asked, “Sorry, am I being too crass?”

  She shook her head. “No… I like knowing that you desire me.”

  “It’s deeper than that, Ava.” My smile disappeared.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AVA

  Bronson had this mystifying way of throwing loaded comments at me. I was about to respond when our steaks arrived. The sizzling aroma headed straight for my gut, and despite a sudden profound need to delve into the sexiest man I’d ever set eyes on, I said, “Just hold onto that for a moment, I need to eat.”

  “Me too,” he said, carving into his steak.

  We ate away in silence. It was a comfortable silence, though, and nothing like that not-knowing-what-to-say awkwardness that I’d experienced on dates before.

  Bronson wiped his lips. “That’s one good steak.” He gazed up at me. “I’m glad you like eating.”

  I laughed. “You’ve met women who don’t?”

  “Yeah. The skinny ones. They have a weird relationship with food. I love food, and I love sharing it.”

  “Me too. Cassie’s go
t that problem. I don’t think I’ll ever be skinny.” I turned my mouth down slightly. I’d always seen myself as fat. Especially in junior high where I became the butt of everyone’s joke, literally, given my big ass.

  “Ava. You’re a woman. In every sense of the word. Believe me.”

  I took a deep breath as his heavy-lidded gaze added sexy promise to the type of compliment I’d never tire of hearing.

  Bronson’s apartment was clean and ordered, which pleased me for some strange reason. Maybe because, being naturally untidy, I presumed that it fitted neatly with that cliché of opposites attracting. Not that I needed any further justification for being drawn to Bronson.

  Breathing in the cool night air, I stood on the balcony and studied the view of the bay. Twinkling with a blur of color reflecting from surrounding city lights, the bay resembled a modern art painting. As I feasted on the sky, I caught sight of a shooting star and gasped in wonder. It was like a celestial orgasm: short, sharp, and exciting. Analogies aside, the cosmic omen showered me with hope and magic.

  One thing was for certain, Bronson’s apartment was a far cry from my little shoebox excuse for an apartment, which I was planning to move from soon. The money Aggie deposited weekly into my account had me saving madly for a new apartment in which I didn’t trip over the toilet to shower.

  I remained on the balcony to give Bronson privacy as he took a call. Explaining that he had a meeting in the morning, he apologized for having to take it. Not that I minded. I’d crashed his evening, after all. Still, I was glad I’d listened to Aggie and called him.

  My heart raced with every stolen glance. I couldn’t get enough of him. Each time I looked, I saw something different in that handsome face. Bronson could have starred in Hollywood as an action man with that body or as a brooding, mysterious lover with those dark, swarthy features.

  After dinner, we’d taken a walk through the park.

  I couldn’t say what startled me more, the Swiss army knife Bronson pulled out, or the fact that he went over to a tree and carved a heart with our initials into it.

 

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