Syntian inclined his dark head toward the short, dumpy woman at Turnbridge’s side. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Turnbridge.”
“Olivia,” the sixty-year old woman breathed, looking into his face as though she were drowning. “My name is Olivia.”
As Beth took another sip of her wine, her look filled with a mocking light. As her escort repeated the old crone’s name, she thought Olivia Turnbridge would wet her pants. The heavily made-up face of the hag split into a girlish grin.
“We are so pleased you could come,” said Olivia.
“I am most pleased you invited me.”
“Syn, I’m famished,” Beth put in, pulling on his arm. “Allen and Olivia always use the best caterers. I’m dying to try out their buffet. I intend to stuff my mouth!”
Olivia saw a spark of pure fury flit through the hot brown eyes of her guest, but the man smiled, although the smile did not reach those devastatingly direct eyes. She noticed that he seemed to tense at Beth Janacek’s touch, almost as though he were repelled by it, but his manners were impeccable as he apologized to her and Allen and led the brazen little Janacek girl to the dining table.
“He doesn’t like her, Al,” Olivia remarked, watching the way Syntian Cree moved away from Beth at the table.
“He’s a little on the odd side,” Allen acknowledged. “I think he was going to bring someone else.”
Olivia looked at her husband. “Who?” When Allen only shrugged, she returned her gaze to her guest. “Maybe that’s why he seems put up with Beth. She wasn’t his first choice.”
“Whoever gets him,” she heard Louvenia Yelverton remark as she joined them, “will be getting her heart’s desire!”
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Beth asked as she placed an hors d’oeuvre on the plate her escort was holding for her.
“I’m not hungry,” he answered, looking out over the crowd of people assembled in Allen Turnbridge’s home.
“I am!” Beth piled several more canapés on the plate then touched his arm to gain his attention for he was staring across the room at a rather good-looking brunette. When his attention swung back to her, she thought she saw a flash of irritation. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. What could possibly be wrong?”
“You were looking at Angeline Hellstrom as though you could gobble her up where she stands.” A huffy tone entered Beth’s voice for he looked back across the room. “Have you met her?”
“Who?” he asked, still looking at the striking woman.
“Angeline Hellstrom!”
“No, I’ve never met her,” he said. “Who is she?”
Beth had wanted to make an indelible impression on the town’s newest, richest inhabitant, but she was beginning to think that all the time she had wasted at her toilet had been for nothing. He had yet to compliment her on her dress or looks and he seemed to be fascinated with the town’s most sought-after society matron.
“She just owns half of this state, that’s who she is,” Beth groused. “She’s had more husbands than Elizabeth Taylor and Zsa Zsa Gabor rolled into one.” She swung her narrowed gaze to the woman. “Unless you’re a multi-millionaire, she won’t have anything to do with you.” She turned pale as Angeline Hellstrom looked their way almost as though she had heard herself being discussed. Her nails dug into her palms as the woman excused herself from the group of men around her and headed their way.
“Oh, shit! She noticed you.”
He watched her walking toward him, her lips parted in a mocking smile. Her hips were swaying seductively beneath the green silk of her sheath. As she reached them, she held out one slim hand toward him.
“Mr. Cree, isn’t it?” she asked in a breathless, smoky voice.
He took her hand in his and brought the slim white fingers to his lips. “You have me at a disadvantage, my lady,” he answered smoothly, his eyes boring into hers.
“Introduce us,” Angeline demanded of Beth, not even bothering to look at the girl.
“Angeline Hellstrom, Syntian Cree,” Beth mumbled, shifting from one foot to another.
“Syntian,” she sighed his name. “May I call you, Syn?”
“Call me whatever you wish to call me, my lady. I might come and I might not,” was his throaty reply. At her light giggle, his left brow crooked.
“What if I were to call you my sweet demon?” she taunted. “My incubus come to brighten up an otherwise dreary existence?”
He released her hand and snorted with grim humor. He shook his head. “You are wicked.”
“And are you as wicked as your name implies?” she asked, glancing at Beth.
“When the occasion warrants.”
Beth looked from one to the other as they spoke and had the uncanny feeling that they not only knew one another but knew one another more intimately than anyone else ever would. The heated look that passed between them was almost vulgar in its intensity. She was about to turn away, when her escort reached down and threaded his strong fingers through hers, tapping her hand suggestively against his steel-like thigh.
“It was a pleasure, my lady,” he said to Angeline. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
“Count on it,” Angeline assured him. She reached out a delicate hand and touched his cheek. “My demon.” Her scrutiny slid insultingly to Beth. “I’d be careful of him, my dear. He’s more dangerous than you know.” She smiled nastily and excused herself.
Beth’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say to the sultry bitch. The gentle tugging on her hand as her escort’s fingers tightened, made her look up at him with pique.
“What the hell was all that about?” she demanded.
Syntian laughed, his appraisal on Angeline’s swaying hips. “I think the lady likes to play games.” He brought Beth’s hand to his lips and touched her knuckles with his tongue, gazing at her from beneath his thick dark lashes. “Don’t you?” he whispered.
Beth felt a tingle of pure sexual lust drive straight through her belly. His touch was like nothing she had ever experienced before and she wanted him, wanted him so badly she would have torn his clothes from him there on the dining room floor and devoured him had they been alone. She could show him what wickedness really meant.
“Promises, promises.” He chuckled, eyeing her with interest.
Beth jumped. Had he read her mind? From the hot look he was giving her, he must have guessed where her thoughts had skipped. She leaned against his taut body and felt the warmth of passion flood through her.
“Would you like to come back to my apartment?” she asked, her mouth watering as she looked up into the dark planes of his incredibly handsome face.
“Now?” he asked. He looked about him. “The party has just started.”
“I can show you a better time than any party you’ve ever been at,” she whispered huskily.
He arched a dark brow at her invitation. “I would imagine you’d try.”
She felt slightly insulted by both the words he had spoken and the tone that had been just a touch short of condescending, but Beth ignored it, wanting him so desperately she was willing to strip naked before him at that very moment, the hell with the people milling around Allen Turnbridge’s home.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, taking his hand from hers. “You go on ahead and I’ll join you a bit later.” As she started to protest, he put his thumb on her bottom lip, shushing her as he stroked the velvet surface. “That will give me time to discharge my neighborly duties to our hosts and you time to prepare yourself for me.” His powerful hand cupped her chin. “Undress and wait for me in your bed.” He heard her draw in an eager breath. “I won’t be long.” He smiled wickedly.
Beth nodded, unable to look away from the strange intensity of his dark stare. It was as though he were commanding her, bidding her to do his will. She felt lost in those deep brown eyes, beyond surrender to the gaze that filled them. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
He watched her go, her face filled with a lusty r
apture that made people look at her as she passed. Her pupils were dilated almost as much as if she had been given a strong tranquilizer. He turned his back, dismissing her, and found Angeline staring at him, one perfectly tweezed brow lifted in challenge.
His slow smile was all the answer Angeline needed.
Lauren turned over in the bed, angrily fluffed up her pillow, mumbling to herself. She wasn’t any more comfortable in that position than she had been in the one she’d just restlessly left. She sat up, sighing angrily and stared for a long time into the dark shadows of her bedroom then she turned her head and looked at the bedside clock. It was only ten o’clock on a Saturday night and already she knew she’d had all the sleep she was likely to get. She was about to reach out to turn on the bedside lamp and read awhile, when the jingle of the phone brought a soft yip of startled surprise from her. She picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Can’t you sleep?” he asked in that soft, gentle voice.
Her heart slammed against her chest. “I’ve been trying,” she confessed. She heard his low laugh.
“No sheep to count?”
Lauren laughed. “I’m allergic to wool.”
“Maybe you should try warm milk.”
Lauren heard laughter and the tinkling of glassware in the background and she remembered the party he had invited her to attend with him. “Are you having a good time?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.
“No.”
“Why not?” she heard herself ask and felt stupid for doing so.
“Because you’re not with me.”
Something incredibly warm and sweet passed over Lauren’s heart and she found herself clutching the phone to her ear. “You hardly know me.”
“I know everything there is to know about you, my sweet Lauren. For as long as I have existed I have sought you. I have traveled many thousands of miles just to be near you.” His voice was silky and tender as he spoke.
“You’re drunk,” she accused, feeling embarrassed by what she thought were words brought forth out of an alcoholic haze.
“And you are the dearest, sweetest creature to which I have ever been drawn.” There was a long pause then he sighed. “Aye, sweet lady. I am drunk. Forgive me.”
“Mr. Cree?” she called out, afraid he was about to hang up.
“Don’t call me that,” he pleaded with her in a hurt tone. “My name is Syn.”
“Please don’t drive home if you’ve been drinking. It’s a long way out to—”
“Say it,” he asked.
“I don’t—”
“I want to hear you say my name. I want to hear my name on your lips,” he begged.
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
“If you won’t say my name, I won’t be responsible for the damage I might cause on my way home.” He sounded like a little boy. “There’s many a stop sign between here and my driveway, Lauren.”
Lauren laughed. “You’re incorrigible, aren’t you?”
“I’m drunk,” he told her. “I don’t consume human food, but I can damned sure guzzle booze like there’s no tomorrow. It’s the one vice I am allowed.”
“Will you give your keys to someone there at the party?”
“Will you say my name?”
“Syn.” The name was like a feather touch on her spine as she spoke it, causing tingles all the way from her shoulders to her feet.
She heard him sigh with contentment. “Good night, my sweet Lauren. You can sleep now.” He hung up.
Lauren stared at the phone. A warm feeling was encroaching on her cold heart, a heart no one had ever cared enough about to heat. As she slowly replaced the receiver, his face drifted before her and she smiled.
“Good night, Syn,” she whispered.
She lay down, her eyelids feeling heavy. Behind one long, deep breath, sleep crept softly, protectively over her and she fell gently into that good night.
His hands were all over her, rough and painful: the way she had always liked a man’s hands on her. Pinching, pushing, probing, pulling, prying, punishing. So powerful, so strong, so sure of themselves, his hands lifted her, positioned her, dug their lustful fingers into the thick mane of her blond hair.
“Open,” he demanded, his voice hard and vicious, and she eagerly obeyed. She felt him enter her with a violent thrust of blinding pain.
Beth’s eyes flew wide open; she came awake, her hands clawing up to push him away from her. But there was no one there. No one above her on the bed.
“You will never slap my lady again,” was the last thing Beth Janacek ever heard.
Chapter Five
Lauren had just returned from Sunday morning Mass at St. Rose of Lima when the doorbell rang. Her heart did a strange little flutter and her lips broke into an amused smile. She laid down her jacket and walked to the door, expecting to see him standing on her porch, her neighbors peeking out from behind their curtains, but instead, her landlady—who was also the owner of the bookstore where Lauren had worked for three years—was standing at her screen door, smiling at her.
“Good morning, Lauren.”
“Mrs. Hellstrom.” Lauren heard the surprise in her own voice. She blushed and pushed open the screened door. “How are you?”
“Better than I have been in a very long time,” Angeline Hellstrom answered. She glanced beyond Lauren into the little house. “May I come in?”
Lauren’s blush deepened and she stepped back. “I’m sorry. Of course. Please do.”
Angeline looked around her as she entered the tiny room. Her brows lifted in surprise. “Why, Lauren, it’s absolutely lovely!” She turned a bright smile to the younger woman. “You’ve made it come alive.” She glanced at the blue gingham curtains and polished wooden floors with their multi-colored blue oval scatter rugs. Her hand trailed over the freshly laundered slipcovers. “Did you make these yourself?” At Lauren’s shy nod, her guest’s smile deepened. “I would not have thought it possible to make this old place shine, but you have.” She sat down on the loveseat. “I am very pleased with how you have taken care of it.”
Lauren smiled. “I have enjoyed living here, Mrs. Hellstrom.” A shaft of fear went through her. “Have you sold it?”
“Oh, no. No!” Angeline laughed. “Who would buy a one bedroom cottage this day and age?” She ran her finger on the end table next to her and wasn’t surprised to not feel any dust. “I am most content to have you rent the place, Lauren.”
The smile disappeared from Lauren’s face. “I hope I can continue to make the rent payments, Mrs. Hellstrom. I suppose you heard about what happened at the store.”
Angeline Hellstrom’s face turned hard. “Yes, I did, and that is why I am here.” She sat back on the loveseat and looked up at Lauren. “Sit down, dear. We must talk.”
Wanting to forestall the moment, Lauren gasped. “Where are my manners? May I offer you something? Tea, coffee, a glass of lemonade?”
“Nothing for me, dear,” Angeline said, patting the loveseat. “Do come and sit down, Lauren.” Her smile was gentle. “I promise I won’t bite.”
Lauren’s smile wavered and she sat down nervously on the edge of the loveseat, folding her hands together in her lap.
“First of all,” Angeline began, reaching out to place her cool hand over Lauren’s. “There is nothing for you to worry about in regards to this cottage. If, after our little talk, you find it difficult to come up with next month’s rent, we can arrange something, I’m sure. But I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“Jobs are scarce here, Mrs. Hellstrom,” Lauren said in a small voice. “I don’t even know where to start looking. Since I don’t drive—”
“Lauren,” Angeline whispered, “I don’t believe you’ll have to look anywhere.” As the young woman glanced up at her with confusion, Angeline smiled. “I want you to go back to the store. As a matter of fact, I am thinking of promoting you to sales clerk since both Inez and Karla won’t be coming back.”
“They won’t?”
Angeline shook her head sadly. “Inez just hasn’t been herself since her...accident. And Karla has been committed to The Chancel over in Louisiana.” She clucked her tongue. “Such a terrible thing, don’t you agree? At any rate, her family is quite well off and poor Karla is just not herself since that horrible man brutalized her.”
“I’m sorry,” Lauren said.
Angeline looked closely at Lauren. “I know you are, dear. That’s the kind of sweet person you are.”
Lauren ducked her head beneath the compliment. “But even with Inez and Karla gone, Mrs. Hellstrom, Mrs. Yelverton won’t want me back. She made that very plain to me Saturday.”
“You leave Louvenia Yelverton to me!” Angeline snapped. “I’ve been thinking of retiring her for quite some time now. I’ve even thought of dabbling in the store, myself, for something to keep me occupied.” She bent toward Lauren. “Until that next filthy rich old man comes along!”
Lauren laughed despite herself.
“See? You can laugh!” Angeline patted her hand. “Don’t worry, dear. Things are going to be just as you’d like them. You’ve got a guardian angel looking out for you, now.”
The smile slowly left Lauren’s face. “Beth isn’t going to be happy to see me back there, either.”
“Oh, yes. The little Janacek girl.” Angeline tapped her lip with her finger. “The two of you had words as I recall.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lauren admitted. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to her.”
“You probably said no more than was the absolute truth, I’m sure.”
“Nevertheless, I shouldn’t have insulted her.” She turned to her guest. “Beth didn’t like me before all this happened. She’s not going to like me any better if I go back.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Angeline stood and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Don’t give it another thought. The little problem with the Janacek girl will be taken care of, I would think.”
NightWind 1st Book: HellWind Trilogy Page 5