by Lynne, Loni
April would never forget the woman’s face. Though her hair was modestly styled up in a lady-like fashion of colonial times, her frantic features would haunt her forever. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Anguish and fear were etched even deeper. April was positive this was the same woman from the manor house.
Unbelievable!
Moments passed as they stared at each other. April’s ghostly friend seemed to relax a bit as she slowly made her way a bit farther into the room. Again, the scent of lilac permeated the room. It was the ghost’s scent, her fragrance.
“Who…are you?” April asked, her voice trembling a bit.
The young woman’s gaze darted around the room in anxiousness. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and focused on April again.
“Can you see me?” April asked.
A subtle, unsure nod of the ghost’s head caused April to relax a bit, but then relaxing while viewing a ghost didn’t make sense to her.
An idea came to her mind. If this woman was dressed in colonial period and the house had belonged to Henry Samuel, could this be his wife? James seemed to think the woman she’d witnessed in his cellar had been her. “Are you Catherine Samuel?”
The ghost nodded.
Excited she finally had a few answers to go on, April continued. “What is it you need? I want to help you.”
The ghostly figure’s shoulders slumped with relief. Her hands flew wildly with emphasis as she began to move her lips. As fast as she was talking there would have been no way a lip-reader could keep up. Confused, April tried to get her to slow down.
“I can’t hear you. Why can’t I hear you now when I could hear you crying a few minutes ago? What are you trying to tell me?”
Her ghost stopped and sighed. Turning away in silent defeat she fumbled with her trinkets hanging from her apron and approached the writing desk where she had been. Those trinkets, she had thrown them at April in the mill site scene.
The shimmery image unlocked a drawer, and secreting something from the drop down desktop, put it in the small drawer underneath. She turned back and a look of pure terror marred her delicate features.
The door flew open, slamming hard against the wall as a fierce breeze blew into the room from the hallway. April watched in fascination as a haze of dust and air formed a solid entity. It was the man from the manor house ruins—the burly man, except this time he was still wearing a formal day suit. A periwig sat haphazardly on his balding head. Even with the wig, the ruddy jowls were all she needed to identify him. Bitter, beady eyes full of dark anger trained on the woman at the desk. Catherine cringed into her small corner as if expecting the worst. But he stopped when he saw April standing in her robe near the door.
The man’s momentary shock was replaced by a sickening sneer of delight. Did he know her? He had seen her in the manor house. Did he remember? Who was this man? His attention diverted back to the woman at the desk, her hands frantically fingering the chains and various lockets tied to her apron front. She stopped playing with the bobbles instantly at his glare. Was she trying to get April to notice them? He looked from one to the other as if trying to guess what kind of game they were playing.
April felt the terrible friction of being entrapped, like earlier. With one menacing step toward her she instantly knew his intent and began backing away toward the door to safety. She never made it.
Trapped between the wall and his body, the situation was exactly like this morning’s incident in her room. Though he wasn’t corporeal, she felt the pressure as if he were a solid man. Fear escalated through her. His beefy hand grabbed her hair, forcing her head backwards. A foul stench of putrid body odor and rotting teeth made her gag.
He sneered as his face drew ever closer to hers. “You have no clue what you have done.”
What did she do? How could she hear him when she couldn’t hear Catherine? What did this all mean? April fought his hold on her, forcing her face away from his fetid stench and thin lips. She screamed, long and shrill. Where were James and her grandmother? They should be here by now.
Bright light flooded the room. She squealed and turned away, covering her eyes from the sudden sensitivity.
“What the hell is going on?” James bellowed, coming into the opened room.
James and Grandma Dottie stood in the doorway. Her grandmother’s features pinched as she stumbled backwards, away from the room as if being bowled over by someone leaving in a hurry. Aunt Vickie and her mother rushed in, wrapping their bathrobes around them. April felt the security of James’s arms around her as she rocked back and forth from the frightful incident. She could still see the man’s face, feel his rank breath on her face, hear his grating voice echoing in her ears. What had she done? Who was he? What did he want from her? Voices of those she loved were whispering around her, but all she could hear was his voice.
“Get her out, James,” her mother said, finally stepping forward, surveying the now empty room. April hazarded a glance around as James gathered her up in his arms and pulled her from the scene, and her mother ventured forth, listening to her surroundings.
“What is it, Virginia? What do you hear?” her grandmother asked.
“Nothing now. But I hear echoes of voices; angry, scared…I don’t know.” Her mother shook her head.
Out in the hallway, Aunt Vickie patted James’s shoulder. “We’ll handle it from here, James. You take care of April. She’s going to need your strength. Give us a moment.”
April felt the shift of her body being carried in James’s strong arms. Once placed on her bed, she curled into the fetal position and prayed for God to be merciful and take away her family curse. At least give me a clue as to what the hell I did wrong!
***
Carrying April back into her suite at her aunt’s instruction, James laid her gently on the bed, wrapping the counterpane around her.
“Where were you? What took you so long to bring Grams?” April asked, her body still shaking.
“I’d just left you. I hadn’t been gone more than a minute or two. By the time we got to the room the door had slammed shut and we couldn’t get in. Didn’t you hear us banging on the door?”
“No.”
Her voice was so small and quiet as she physically retreated, wrapping herself into a ball.
“April?” He touched her gently, brushing back a wayward curl of hair and tucking it behind her ear.
“It seemed like forever. Catherine was sitting there at the desk crying when I peeked in. I startled her. She was trying to tell me something but I couldn’t hear her. Then she was pleading with me. That’s when he came in.”
“Who was he?”
“Evil. He was dressed in gentleman’s clothing and a periwig. Catherine was frightened of him. She had every right to be.” She turned to him, her face pale but blotchy as color seeped back into her skin. “I think it was the man in the cellar. He looked like him in the face and body. Like an old English bulldog, only rabid.”
James’s lip curled in disgust. “Henry Samuel.”
April scurried off of his lap and reached for a book on the table. Flipping through pages she came upon the black and white photos. “It’s him!” She shoved the book at him and paced.
“Why didn’t I make the connection? This is the man I just saw. I should have known. I should’ve remembered seeing him in this book.”
“You weren’t expecting him. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
But James didn’t feel comfortable knowing Henry’s ghost was the culprit in both life and death. He was torturing April. Why? Did the ghost know he was around? What would Henry do if he found out the man he’d executed was alive and well? Maybe he knew and he was trying to get to James through tormenting April? Damn! He wished he could see the ghost like the women of this house did. He would demand satisfaction for the man’s evil actions. But how could he fight something not there?
“I don’t know what to do.” April sat back down on the bed. She wrung her hands frantically in her lap. Loo
king up at him, her eyes filled with wariness. “He had you executed. He killed Catherine and the other man. What kind of man are we dealing with?”
“I don’t know. I wish I’d known Henry better back in the day—but I didn’t.” James took her hands and rubbed his finger over the back of her knuckles, feeling the slight shaking in her hands. He put his free arm around her, pulling her up onto his lap. She felt good there, snuggled under his chin, her head resting against his heart.
“I will promise you this, April, I’ll do everything in my power, alive or dead, to keep you safe from Henry Samuel. You have to trust me.”
“I…I…do trust you, James. I’m just…scared. Hold me,” April managed to murmur in between stuttering breaths.
“I am holding you, sweet lass,” James whispered against her ear, kissing the dangling end of the strand of hair he’d placed against the delicate pink shell.
“Closer.”
April turned into him, moving her shift so her bare leg could wrap around his hips and thighs. James’s heartbeat struggled to remain steady. She burrowed her head into his chest, literally trying her damndest to crawl into his skin.
“If I were any closer, I dare say we would be inside one another.” James tried for a bit of humor, letting the rumble of his laughter echo in his chest. Her face tilted up. God help him, he was lost to the need he saw reflected in her eyes.
“Would that be a bad thing?” April asked with innocent wonder.
Yes…no…Hell, this was a heck of a bloody time to go noble! He ached to accommodate her, but he would rather die again than take her while she was so vulnerable.
“You’ve had a fright. I would be a bloody bastard to use your weakness for my own gain.” He did tuck her closer to him and rubbed the chills from her arms, letting her body relax against him even though he was as wound up as his pocket watch.
Aunt Vickie knocked and stepped in to check on them briefly. James jumped, ready to defend April’s honor. But Vickie only nodded, gave him the thumbs up and a sly-wink before closing the door. These modern women were an odd-lot. In his day, he would have been run out of town, tarred and feathered for the intimate position they shared.
April hadn’t moved in quite awhile, but her breathing had relaxed and the tremors had subsided as he continued to methodically stroke her hair, back and shoulders, easing the tension from her body. Assuming she was asleep, he stopped his ministrations to let her rest peacefully.
“Don’t stop,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “Your touch feels good.”
So much for thinking she was asleep. “You’re tired. You’ve been through quite a bit lately. You need to rest.”
April rose up, her knees on either side of his lap, her hands on his shoulders. She glared down at him. “Don’t tell me what I need. I know what I need. I need you,” she fumed. “Why won’t you make love to me? I’m more than willing. What is so different about me than the other women you bedded? Are you afraid because of my gift? Do you see me as a freak?”
She thought he didn’t want to make love to her? Where the hell did she come up with such an imbecilic notion? Did she not understand what kind of torture it was for him to be this close to her and not assuage his physical cravings? He was fighting a damn battle to keep her safe from him. Neither one had any idea how much time they would have together. He couldn’t offer anything to her without knowing if he was alive or just another form of ghostly material she needed to fear.
“You have it all wrong, April Branford. I want you so very much, and I’m not to be confused with your past lover. I’m not Jason. He was a weak imbecile who couldn’t accept how wonderful and gifted you are. If it wasn’t for everything you are, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”
In one fluid movement, April stripped off her chemise and settled herself closer to him. “Then prove it. If you are the James Addison, the rakish scoundrel I’ve read about, prove it to me. If you want me so much, take what I’m offering, for however long we have.”
Bloody hell! For the first time in his randy, demented life, James Addison didn’t know what to do with a naked woman sitting atop of him. April sat there like a knight going into battle. Her armor was soft pale skin shining in the lamp light. Her hair tumbled gloriously over her shoulders in a wild mane. She was naked and beautiful and a goddess meant to be worshiped. His hands itched to touch her and yet all he could do was stare, taking her beauty in, and praying to God he still remembered how to pleasure a woman.
***
April sat astride James’s lap. Was this familiar to him? Did women take the lead in his time? Then she didn’t care, he was here with her now. She didn’t worry about right or wrong, and time, no one knew how much time they had on Earth. James’s frail existence showed her as much. She was grabbing time while she had time to grab. Her craving for this man, since the day she’d met him, won out over propriety and worrying about tomorrow. They were both consenting adults and she’d be damned if he waited to ask for her parent’s permission.
Not sure what to expect, she hadn’t been ready for James Addison’s assault on her. His hardness rasped against her naked, feminine core. The material of his jeans touched off jolts of electricity as she rubbed wantonly across his erection. She moaned at the feel. Silver-gray eyes glowed in the dim light. She could tell he was hesitant and knew he was trying to be noble. Damn him! She didn’t want noble, she wanted him! Now!
“You can touch me. I promise I won’t break,” she teased as she brought his hand up to her breast.
It was a perfect fit. As big as his hands were, she was adequate in size. The darker coloring and crisp black hairs were a stark contrast against her pale skin. He was callused and rough, the texture sending triggers of delight coursing through her. The rasp of his thumb over her sensitive nipple made her ache with raw hunger.
Leaning back a bit she moved against his manhood, rubbing herself over the rough material of his jeans, imitating what she hoped to do when she had him naked. She could feel the hardened length but wanted all of him.
She looked up from under her lashes to gauge his reaction. His deep inhales filled with unleashed tension rained hot over her face. He was holding back but only by a thread. The evidence of his need shimmered in his stormy grey eyes. She moved sinfully, rubbing her breasts against him as she rode his lap.
“April,” James’s voice came out like a ragged warning.
She’d played it safe for too long. She’d never wanted to go crazy on a man before. But James brought out the wild in her. The denim material was a damn nuisance. Reaching down between them she pushed the copper button through the hole on his fly and grazed his erection through the rough material. He gasped but she continued to free him. Pulling the zipper down slowly, she felt his natural heat radiate from him.
Cupping him gently she removed him from his constraints to the sound of his stuttered groan. He was hot silk wrapped around hard steel. April reveled in being the first woman to touch him in centuries. She wanted to bring every part of him to life with her hands, her body, and her mouth.
She slid off his lap and pushed him back on the bed, stripping him of the infuriating jeans and briefs. She wanted to see all of James Addison. The man in all his glory.
“April…dear God!” James gasped.
She touched him, marveling at the mystery behind the man. She treated him as gently as she would a freshly found artifact with light delicate touches and a sense of wonder.
“You don’t know what you do, angel,” James’s voice sounded hoarse to her ears.
She let him go. Her feminine power took over. She liked this new side to her—daring and bold. “Oh, I think I do.”
She returned to straddle him in his prone position. Finding his hand, she again placed it on her breast. His fingers brushed over the sensitive skin as lightly as she’d touched him and then he tweaked her nipple, just a light pinch setting off a chain reaction throughout her nerves to make her throb. She pressed wantonly against him, feeling his heat
and hardness. Her head lowered to meet his. Their sexual tension was palpable in their ragged breathing. Perspiration dotted his brow. He was fighting it.
“Please James…”
Her soft plea was all he’d needed to lose his control. She was lifted off of his lap, and he left her side only to remove his shirt before placing his body atop hers, resting his weight on his muscular arms as his lips crashed down on hers with such intensity she thought he was going to swallow her whole.
The kiss gentled as her hands stroked the corded muscles of his back and shoulders, and then he began exploring more than her mouth. His lips trailed over her cheeks, her jaw, nipping their way down the column of her throat.
April arched her back as his mouth found her breasts and tormented them with alternating kisses, nibbles, and gentle suckling. She gasped at the intensity and the thoroughness of his exploration. He maneuvered them both so he could touch her with his hands as well as his lips.
She jumped and giggled lightly as his mouth found the sensitive spot on her belly. He growled low in his throat and continued his exploration. His teeth nipped her hip and she gasped but then his hand found its own center of attention and she nearly came off the bed.
All of her moisture had pooled from just wanting him, long before he’d begun to touch her. She closed her eyes. Now she was just a ball of aching need. But he took his time, igniting her passions even further with his touch, finding all the sensitive areas and some she didn’t even know existed, until she was a wiggling mass of pent up frustration waiting to be unleashed.
She opened her eyes and saw James in all his masculine glory. This was the man the history books wrote about. He sat poised between her thighs, readying himself. Her body throbbed, her heart ached to bursting. This man was all hers—for now.
James leaned over her, touching her womanhood lightly, making sure she was ready too. “April, my heart…are you sure?”