Solace in Scandal

by Kimberly Dean

  He said nothing more. He just stared at her, daring her to come at him again. She’d seen that look before as he’d done interviews. She recognised it from videotape of the prosecuting attorney questioning him. It made him look cocky, aggravating and sexy as hell.

  But she wasn’t the one who was going to bring him down.

  Better, more powerful people had tried and he’d come away with barely a slap on the wrist. Although … her gaze was drawn to the ottoman that sat a cockeyed angle.

  ‘Forget it,’ she said softly.

  She turned towards the lake house, but was surprised when he took a step to follow her. It wasn’t a voluntary move, and they both knew it.

  ‘You can use the library,’ he said, his tone low and rough.

  She looked at him through her lashes, but his gaze was on her body. Or, more precisely, on the way she’d wrapped the sweatshirt around herself. Hot embarrassment ran through her. He wasn’t the only one throwing off mixed signals.

  ‘But stay away from me.’

  Her chin came up in surprise. Now that wasn’t a mixed message at all. It was a direct blow and it stung, but before she could say anything he turned, swept up his laptop and walked away.

  * * *

  The woman was a distraction.

  Alex considered the implications as he did pull-ups in the gym in the basement of the manor. High-tech equipment surrounded him, but he’d learned that old-school still sometimes got the best results. Crossing his feet at the ankles, he kept his body still and made his arms lift his dead weight up and down. The burning became intense, but he kept going until the muscles wouldn’t respond any more. He dropped to the ground, flipped onto his back and started doing sit-ups.

  She was an unwanted, uninvited distraction who apparently didn’t want to be here any more than he did.

  He stopped for a moment on the upbeat with his elbows bumping against his knees.

  No, that wasn’t all true. He wanted her like hell.

  His teeth gritted as he started pumping out the reps again. She was beautiful. Heart-stoppingly so. When she’d come upon him down by the lake, he’d gotten his first up-close look at her. It had nearly made him swallow his tongue. She was tiny, but with curves in all the right places. Her hair was so long and silky, it made his fingers itch. But that face. Her skin was flawless and he couldn’t look away from her eyes. She had doe eyes. Deep, dark and captivating.

  He could drown in those eyes.

  Or he could drown her.

  He didn’t need her here, not now and not like this. He needed this time alone. He couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how gorgeous or tempting.

  But he couldn’t send her away. He might be a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but he wouldn’t feed her to the wolves. Not the kind that stood outside his door, anyway.

  ‘Shit,’ he muttered.

  Collapsing back, he lay on the gym mat and stared at the fluorescent lighting. This was the first time he’d used the gym in ages. The rain this morning had forced him inside. A little drizzle wouldn’t have stopped him, but a constant downpour was another thing. He’d had his share of discomfort. The Precor and Cybex equipment was here for a reason.

  He rolled his head and looked around the room. Full-length mirrors on the opposite wall showed his reflection. He’d put in a hard workout. His body felt like mush as he tried to catch his breath. His muscles were warm and his skin was damp with sweat. For a moment, he let his eyes close. Worn out, maybe he could relax.

  He lasted for fifteen seconds. Twenty tops.

  He heard every little pop and whir in the building. The last year and a half had honed his senses, and he was aware of everything that went on around him. Too aware. That made it all the more difficult to explain how she had snuck up on him yesterday in the garden – and she’d come up behind him. The last guy who’d made that mistake had ended up in the infirmary, yet she’d come upon him like a butterfly on the wind. He’d only known she was there when he’d sensed her watching him.

  And felt the responding tightness in his groin.

  With a surge of energy, Ax came to his feet. Grabbing his towel, he wiped his face and stalked off to the shower. The woman was like a wraith, so quiet as she floated about the grounds. She was ethereal as she took her morning walks in the mists along the waterfront … entrancing as she did yoga on the dock … but so sad, it made him ache.

  He needed to get her out of his head. He needed to be sharp. He would be sharp.

  But today, instead of feeling like a knife blade, he felt more like a hammer head.

  The towel snapped against his back as he flung it over his shoulder. ‘Damn rain.’

  It had him trapped him inside this house. It might have more rooms than he could count, but so had Otisville. He didn’t like being pinned down here by the media any more than his guest did. Wolfe Manor had its own special kind of demons, even for one of its own.

  Especially for one of its own.

  Something caught at his athletic shoe as he walked into the bathroom, and he looked down quickly. The thick rubber mat that covered the floor had flipped up at the corner. Demons, indeed. They were grabbing for him even now. Walking into the bathroom, he slammed the door shut behind him.

  He stripped as the water warmed. When he finally pulled the glass door shut behind him, the steam was already rising. Bracing his hands against the granite wall, he let the dual shower heads spray over him. He was pushing himself, he knew. That snake was still coiled inside his chest. He was doing his best to keep it contained, but she’d seen it lash out yesterday. He regretted that.

  He bowed his head and the pulsating water beat against the back of his neck. He needed to get both of them out of here.

  Those eyes.

  They showed everything she was feeling – distrust, curiosity, anger, lust …

  Ax felt himself stirring. His tired body was filling with another kind of energy, one that was immediate and gnawing. Hunger started seeping through his veins. His mouth watered and his fingertips ached. His senses heightened, and the images behind his closed eyelids became vivid. Below the belt, he was hard and aching. Damn near throbbing. When the tip of his erection bumped against his belly, he swore and slapped the slick wall.

  ‘Fuck.’

  Standing upright, he reached for the soap. He’d had her pegged that first night. She was a temptress, a siren luring him in so she could bring him down.

  That was not going to happen.

  With their intertwined histories, they could destroy each other.

  He soaped himself, shampooed and rinsed off. His body was one big ache, but he ignored it. Screw the rain, he needed to get out of this house.

  He turned off the water so abruptly, the pipes shook. The bathroom was cloudy as he stepped out of the shower stall. He’d forgotten to turn on the fan. The mirror was fogged over and condensation covered the fixtures. He dried off the moisture, but it came back just as quickly. He wrapped a fresh towel around his waist and reached for the bathroom door to let in some fresh air.

  It didn’t give.

  His head came up. The tired muscles of his gut seized up as one, and he gave another tug on the door.

  It held firm.

  ‘What the hell?’

  Stepping closer, he looked to see if a lock had been flipped. There wasn’t even a mechanism. Wrapping his fist around the handle, he braced his other hand against the wall. He might be fresh from a workout, but he should still have enough strength to open a stinking door. With a sound close to a growl, he gave another yank.

  This time the top corner bowed inward, but the bottom remained lodged. Something had the door jammed.

  Ax felt his breaths go short and his chest tighten unbearably. The air wasn’t going past his throat and it felt like it was bulging. He yanked on the door again. Shoved it and pulled. It was like a bank vault.

  The walls pressed in on him. He looked over the door, his thoughts pinging about as he tried to force his brain to work. Looking around, he re
alised he was in an interior room. No windows. No other route for escape.

  The snake slithered. He jimmied the door and yanked it harder.

  Nothing worked.

  He was locked in. Trapped in the tiny space. Those demons he remembered were out and about, taunting him. He slapped the light switches, turning on the string of bulbs over the vanity, and switched the fan on high. The dampness in the air was making it hard to breathe. The moisture coated his vocal cords and clung to his exposed skin.

  ‘Hey!’ he yelled, banging his fist against the door. ‘Somebody!’

  The big old house was silent.

  Not wanting to, he turned off the fan so he could hear. The loss of the whirring noise left a gaping hole. He heard nothing. No water dripping, no gym equipment running, no footsteps, no voices in return.

  He set up a staccato rhythm that had the door bouncing on its hinges. It set up a racket, but the door was immovable.

  ‘Can anyone hear me?’

  He heard a noise now, but it was his heart pounding in his ears and his head. He was confined again. He slammed both fists against the heavy oak door, making contact all the way down his forearms to his elbows.

  His control was crumbling.

  And then the snake was loose.

  ‘Help! Get me out of here. Anyone. Hey. Let me out!’

  Chapter Four

  Elena hurried through the door to the kitchen of the main house and shook herself to get rid of the rain. It was pouring outside. The walk up the hill didn’t look that long, but she’d gotten drenched in the time it had taken for her to run the distance. She dropped her backpack onto the floor and tugged off her jacket. She hung it on the metal coat rack beside the door and tried not to shiver when a droplet of water ran down the back of her neck.

  ‘Hello?’ she called. A stack of freshly washed kitchen towels was on the granite counter. She grabbed the top one and brushed it over her damp skin. ‘Is anyone here?’

  She knew that Marta and Leonard were out running errands, because they’d asked her for a list of things she needed. The only other person’s location she wasn’t sure about was his. She hadn’t seen any lights on in the main house from her view down by the lake. There’d been no movement or any other signs of life. It was hard to believe he’d be out wandering around in this kind of weather, but she already knew he didn’t like being cooped up.

  Maybe he was sleeping or off in some distant room. The place had enough of them. She slipped off her shoes and left them on the throw rug by the door so she wouldn’t track mud.

  ‘It’s Elena,’ she called. She didn’t want to raise her voice too much. She just needed to buzz down to the first-floor library, but she didn’t want to stumble across anyone unexpectedly. That had already happened with a certain person too many times, and she didn’t want it to happen here, in his home.

  Even if he had given her permission to be here.

  Blotting her wet hair, she padded over to peek through the kitchen doorway. ‘I’m just here to borrow a book,’ she called lightly.

  The looming stillness of the house gave her visions of a black hole just waiting to suck her up. She waited another moment, and then yet another for good measure.

  Summoning up her nerve, she began tiptoeing down the hallway. She knew which book she needed and where it was. Her plan was to just grab it and go. The problem was that the library was at the other end of the house, a trek away.

  She started down the long corridor, trying not to let it unnerve her. The place was just so big and museum-like. She looked into the foyer with its massive stair tower rising overhead. It picked up even the soft patter of her footsteps and made them echo. Squeezing the last bit of moisture from her hair into the towel, she looked in the other direction. It made her pause. The open room was sweeping and expansive, and it offered a wall-to-wall view of the lake – and, off to the right, her house.

  Well, not her house. His lake house.

  He’d been watching her that first night from the balcony right outside those windows. Had he been watching her since?

  The idea sent another kind of shiver down her spine.

  Hurrying along, she passed empty rooms filled with oak furniture, priceless antiques and vintage rugs. She felt out of place here, surrounded by so much wealth. Everything felt so heavy, yet so luxurious and tempting. The only context she had was the time she and her mother had vacationed in Rhode Island. Her aunt had taken them on a tour of the famous mansions of Newport – the summer getaways for the likes of the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers. The only difference there was that the rooms had been roped off. The classic look-but-don’t-touch approach.

  This was real.

  These people lived this way. They kept this mansion that was way too big with way too many rooms. They slept on these beds, walked across those priceless rugs, toyed with those pricey ceramic figurines … Privilege. There were so many aspects to that word. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to not have to worry about money, to have any pleasure or comfort available at the snap of her fingers.

  She moved past a study and then a music room with a grand piano and harp. It made her frown. Did someone actually play that thing or was it just for show?

  It didn’t matter; she was dawdling. Straightening, she focused again on the library at the end of the hall. She was about to walk inside when she realised she was still carrying the kitchen towel. A damp towel and books … It wasn’t a good combination.

  There was a half bath just off to her right. She stepped inside to drape the hand-towel over a towel rail. For a moment, she let her toes curl into the rug beneath her feet. Even the bathroom rugs here were thick and sumptuous. Its burgundy colour matched not only the towels that were artfully arranged over the brass rail but also the soapdish and lotion dispenser. She was admiring the heavy ceramic set when a bang suddenly came through the pipes. The sound was so loud, it made her jump.

  ‘Ah!’

  Lurching back, she looked at the sink and toilet. Was something wrong with the plumbing?

  Another sound radiated through the walls. In the small room, the reverberation seemed to be coming from everywhere. Elena flinched again, warnings flaring in her mind. Shuffling backwards, she braced herself in the doorway.

  What was that?

  She looked for the source of the racket. It sounded as if the pipes were about to explode.

  Wait. No, that wasn’t the pipes. She could hear them now in a distinct rattle. This was something else … some kind of impact … She looked out the window. Had someone made it onto the grounds? Were they trying to break in?

  Another series of hard thuds rang in the walls, making her wince. She could literally feel them under her fingertips. No, this was coming from inside.

  She looked up.

  A strange sound had her quickly reevaluating and looking down. Under her feet. Below her, she’d heard a cry that could only be associated with a wounded animal.

  ‘Oh, God.’

  Something was down there.

  She didn’t think that Leonard had been caring for any pets, but would he have kept a guard dog inside if he’d known she was on the property? She doubted it, but she jumped when there was another explosion of noise beneath her. Banging noises. Desperate sounds.

  ‘Hold on. I’m coming.’

  Shaking with adrenalin, she backed into the hallway. Whatever was down there, it needed help. She couldn’t ignore the frantic sounds. She looked up and down the hall. How could she get down there? The library was the only place she’d ever visited. She’d never explored; she hadn’t wanted to.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  More clanging rang up through the walls and her toes curled with the need to move. Where was the staircase? She didn’t try to be quiet as she raced back to the main entrance, though she nearly fell, her socks sliding along the hardwood flooring, when she found an open archway. There. Carpeted steps led downwards to the basement.

  She flew down the stairs and immediately turned to her right
. The sounds were louder down here. The limestone structure had soaked up most of the noise, containing it. On the lower level, they were booming. Her sense of urgency grew, and she ignored the indoor putting green and wet bar as she honed in on the anguish in the air.

  ‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Where are you?’

  Heart pounding, she found the gym. It was nearly as big as the one she’d used in the city, only the equipment was better and it didn’t smell like sweaty socks. On the balls of her feet, she scoped out the situation.

  There. The door off the end. It was shaking on its hinges.

  She heard that raw, guttural sound that had stifled her breaths upstairs. Only this time the keening was clear. It wasn’t an animal; it was a person. A man.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She raced over to the door, but was afraid to get too near just in case it exploded outwards. ‘Do you need help?’

  The person inside didn’t hear her. They were setting up a racket, pounding on the door and scratching at it.

  She lifted her hands to protect her face when they started kicking.

  ‘Hey!’ she yelled.

  A roar responded. He’d heard her this time. ‘Out! Get me out!’

  Her breath caught in her throat. She recognised that voice.

  ‘Now!’

  She lurched back into action. ‘Stop kicking.’

  Again, in his panic, the man didn’t listen. He was going at that door like his life depended on it.

  ‘Alex!’

  The racket fell and the noise level dropped so suddenly, it was jarring. Still, Elena swore she could hear ragged breaths coming through the sturdy wooden door. She approached cautiously and laid her hand over the handle. ‘Alex, is that you?’

  ‘Elena?’

  His voice was thin, and her name sounded plaintive. Urgency clawed at her.

  ‘Is it the lock? Are you stuck?’ She twisted the handle on the door and pushed, but nothing happened. She tried again, feeling him help from the other side, but something was blocking the door’s natural movement. Her brain began clicking as she sized up the situation.