by Ariana Dupre
She reached into the darkness and groped for the doorjamb opposite her. Sliding her hands down the wall, she maneuvered slowly toward the bathroom.
Three feet down the hallway her fingertips touched the softness of human flesh.
Angie froze.
"Jared?” she whispered.
Suddenly she was yanked forward, pulled into the hardness of muscled flesh. The man was shirtless, her face pressed against the smooth, slippery skin of his chest. He smelled of wet dirt and sweat.
Unable to scream, barely able to breathe, Angie scratched at his skin as she tried to get away. She felt the rumble within him before she heard the low, evil laugh.
Pushing her hands against his waist, she felt a wide belt in the loops of his jeans and the butt of a handgun. Twisting, she grabbed for the gun, but he caught her wrist. She moved her head, took a deep breath and plunged her teeth into him. He propelled her across the hallway, into the banister, as her blood-curdling scream filled the silence.
Angie spit mud out of her mouth. The sounds of footsteps were everywhere—down the steps, in the hall. Just how many people were in the house? Using the banister rails for support, she stood.
"Angie!"
"Jared?"
"Stand still, the lights are out. I'm getting a flashlight."
Angie stumbled from the banister to the opposite side of the hall. Still unsure who'd attacked her, still suspicious of Jared, she didn't want to give him the opportunity to throw her to her death over the rail.
The flashlight's brilliant beam frantically wobbled around the hallway, until it flashed in her eyes, then lit downward. Jared was immediately at her side.
"What happened?” Too fast, his arms enveloped her. Angie felt her body trembling against him. The fuzzy softness of chest hair caressed her face. Her body molded to his, a perfect fit.
Minutes before she had been forced against a much larger intruder. “There's a man in the house."
"What?” Turning her, Jared led her back to her room. “Go inside. Wait for me to come back."
"No way! I'm going with you!"
"Stay here, Angie,” he ordered as he went downstairs.
"Like hell I will!” she muttered; then, using the wall to guide her, Angie moved toward the bathroom. Her need to relieve herself had vanished in the excitement but she needed the flashlight she'd seen in the closet earlier.
She slid the on button. Thank God!
At the end of the hallway she turned to go down the steps. There were streaks of dirt marking the walls where the man had touched them. Anger welled up inside her as she ran down the steps searching for Jared.
She found him on the back porch, his flashlight pointed at the fuse box.
"Did you find him?” she asked, shining her light into the box too.
"No, he went out this way. See the mud on the door? I bet he ran into the woods. I searched the yard but there's no trace of him."
"We need to call the police."
Jared flipped the last switch into its “on” position to restore the electricity; then shut the small gray door. “You're right. Let's go inside."
Covered in a film of mud from the intruder, Angie stood by the window staring into the night.
Jared left to call the sheriff and check out the house.
Was she wrong about Jared? The man who'd broken into the house felt like the attacker in her dream, and that laugh—it was a perfect match. In the dream, Jared took a bullet for her. Tonight he'd come to her rescue. For a moment, she'd felt safe in his arms. Unlike every other time he'd touched her when she'd been afraid.
Angie put the flashlight on the end table, rubbed her eyes. It's so damn confusing! Maybe, just maybe, Jared wasn't a threat to her after all.
Ten minutes later, Sheriff Trevor Oakley stood in the living room, taking notes. A tall athletic man in his early thirties, he reminded Angie more of a professional athlete than a county sheriff.
"You two are lucky I was on patrol near here. Is anything missing?"
"No, I checked the house and nothing's been touched,” Turning to Angie, Jared's brows furrowed. “Except Angelina. The intruder manhandled her."
The sheriff scrutinized Angie. Even though she'd known Trevor since grade school, she suddenly felt self-conscious of her silk nightgown, covered in mud, clinging to her body. She hadn't missed Trevor's gaze drifting over her breasts and hips.
She crossed her arms to cover her chest, shifted her weight from one leg to another. The skin on the left side of her face felt tight under the drying mud.
"Tell me what happened, Angie.” Trevor raised his pen to the notepad.
"I woke up to go to the bathroom but something felt wrong. When I realized the power was out, I thought that had to be it.” She glanced at Jared. “I always lock my door but tonight it was open. I started down the hall, using the wall as a guide, and then my hand touched flesh. A large man grabbed me, slammed my face into his chest. I couldn't breathe so I bit him. He threw me against the banister and I screamed."
"Bloody murder,” Jared interrupted. “I found her like this in the hallway. I told her to stay in the bedroom until I searched the house, but she didn't listen and came downstairs anyway.” Jared's stare burned through her.
"That's because she's stubborn. Are you hurt, Angie?"
"No, Trevor, I'm not,” she said, staring back at Jared before turning her attention to the sheriff. “Just shaken up a little. He's got a gun. I felt the butt of it sticking out of the top of his pants."
"I'm going to look around outside. Angie, you should get cleaned up.” He motioned to Jared. “I'll be back in a few minutes to let you know what I find. Both of you stay inside until I return."
"Okay, Sheriff. I looked around outside before you arrived. I think he may have taken off into the woods."
"I'll check it out.” Sheriff Oakley tipped his hat and walked through the porch door.
"What is the matter with you?” Angie snapped at Jared. “Why are you staring at me like that?"
"You should have changed your clothes before he got here. I can almost see through that flimsy piece of fabric you're wearing."
"You can't see through it.” Angie said, looking down at herself. “And why do you care anyway?"
"I care because you were attacked tonight. Now go upstairs, take a shower, and put on something a little less revealing."
"First of all, Mr. Maxwell, don't tell me what to do. Secondly, I'll wear what I like to sleep in, thank you. In fact, maybe I'll just sleep naked.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, but then again, you're just right down the hall. I wouldn't want you to be my next attacker."
Jared stepped close, nose-to-nose with her. “Don't press your luck, Angelina Benton,” he growled. Her eyes darkened with emotion. He turned and stormed out of the house after the sheriff.
His tone was menacing enough to arouse all Angie's fears about him at once. She peered after him as he walked out the door.
Maybe, just maybe, the dream was right.
* * * *
Chapter 5
For the next two days, Angie managed to avoid Jared by diving into her work.
Now she was standing in an upstairs bedroom, thoughtfully looking around. After much exploration and pondering, she'd decided to decorate the Slayton house in a manner reminiscent of the early 1800's. She'd put all the details—notes and drawings for each room—into her special “Renobook,” a template she'd created years ago, and created a new one for every project. Later on in her work, swatches and samples would be included within the pages.
Looking up from the Renobook she appraised the room.
Because the Slayton's had renovated the house fifty years earlier, it didn't need as much work as they had originally thought. The second floor, especially, had little need of structural changes so she had started there.
Most of Jared's work was on the main level and the grounds. She didn't need to see him much at all, which suited her just fine.
Deeply engrossed in the Renobook, a l
oud rap on the door drew her attention from the pages.
She glanced up at the doorway to see Jared leaning against the doorjamb.
"Oh, hi,” she said, without enthusiasm.
"Are you at a stopping point?” he asked.
"Just let me finish this note.” Angie scribbled a reminder to order blue satin fabric; then turned to Jared. “What's up?"
"Wanna go for a ride?"
"A ride? Where to? You know we can't leave."
"I need to check out a small house on the farm. I think we could make it available to the tourists, but I'd like your opinion on some of my ideas. That is, if you have time."
Angie found his distant politeness suspicious. But he'd asked for her professional opinion, and she owed that much to the project. So what harm could there be in going with him? She'd been inside for two days, after all. Fresh air and a change of pace would be good for her she reasoned. “Sure, why not?"
"Come on then.” Jared stared at her.
She shuddered at the indiscernible look in his eyes, but followed him anyway.
"Hang on a sec,” she said, entering the office, and picking up the phone. “How long are we going to be gone?"
"An hour or so."
"All right, but I need to phone Alan first. I was waiting for his call about the supplies."
"Okay, I'll wait outside."
Angie dialed the numbers then told Alan she would be inspecting a house on the farm with Jared. Rescheduling their call for an hour and a half later, she felt better about leaving with Jared now that she'd lowered the risk. At least now Alan knew that she was with Jared and where they were going in case she didn't return.
She walked outside, and to her amazement, there stood two horses, saddled and bridled.
"Horses?"
"Don't tell me a country girl like yourself can't ride."
"Oh, I can ride,” she replied with disdain, taking the reins of the horse that appealed to her most, a beautiful Arabian.
"But—here, take Thunder,” Jared said, holding the Morgan's reins out to Angie. “The Arabian's too fast for you."
"You take Thunder,” snapped Angie as she mounted the white mare. The nerve. “What's her name?"
"Whisper."
"Where are we going?"
"Clyde Davis's house."
Angie raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
They rode through the woods in silence, the air thick with the growing tension between them.
"I can't take this,” Angie said after a while. “Race ya!"
And she sped away, her dark hair flying behind her, her thighs clenching the powerful animal beneath her.
She grinned when she heard Thunder's hoof beats quicken behind her. Just let him try to catch me.
She gave Whisper her head, and they raced over the earth together for several minutes before Angie finally reined the mare in, and pulled up underneath a tall oak tree beside a stream.
She looked back in triumph. She was so far ahead of Jared that she tethered Whisper to a low limb where the mare could drink from the creek.
Angie herself crouched down on some rocks close to the water; then dipped her hands in and sipped from them, before splashing her face and neck.
When Jared finally appeared, she called to him, “What took so long, slowpoke?"
"Thought I'd let you win this time."
Angie laughed. “Yeah, right. I beat you fair and square. You're just slow."
"Well, get back on that horse,” Jared said, riding past her. “We're not there yet."
So much for trying to be friendly, thought Angie. She remounted Whisper and followed.
Soon they approached a small two-story house. Angie noticed the front porch and door were in need of repair and stopped Whisper short.
"What's the matter?” called Jared. “Come on."
Angie closed her eyes for a moment without answering. Just the site of this old house filled her with terror. It was so similar to the one in her dream. She glanced at Jared and her stomach lurched. Oh, God. Was this the day she was going to die?
She dismounted in a daze, and tethered the mare's reins to the porch with trembling hands.
"Come on,” Jared said, reaching down to take her hand when she showed no sign of moving forward. He pulled her into the house. “I want to show you something."
Inside, Angie stared around her, dumbfounded. Relief flooded through her. Oh, thank heavens! The interior of the house was completely different from the house in her dream. Except for the condition of the porch and front door, the house appeared to be in good repair.
Jared led her upstairs and stopped in front of a closed door.
"I came by here earlier today and found this room locked,” he told her. “I picked the lock and couldn't believe what I found, so I did a little investigating. Paul Davis, a descendant of Clyde, said the family preserved this room the way he left it. Apparently, he closed it off after the day Theodore Slayton caught him in here with Ruby. He wouldn't even let members of his family go inside while he was alive. According to Ruby's note, the one Alan has, this is the room where Theodore died.” Jared released Angie's hand, pushed the bedroom door open and stepped back to allow her to enter. “No one has lived in the house since Clyde's death but it's cleaned every month."
"Oh my...” Angie stood motionless, allowing herself a moment to take it all in.
A large hand carved four-poster bed filled the center of the room. Covering it were thick gingham blankets and two pillows. There was a fireplace towards the outer wall, filled with partially rotted logs. An old hand hewn chair faced the hearth. On the other wall, near the window, sat an antique chest of drawers with old-fashioned hairbrushes and a delicate hand mirror laid atop of it. Another small table beside the bed held a white washbasin and matching pitcher. Angie could tell the fabric of the window curtains had once been beautiful, but now they were deteriorated from the sun's harsh glare.
"This is like stepping back in time,” Angie whispered as she moved further inside.
"Amazing, isn't it? Paul said the housekeeper was here last week, that's why it's all so clean. I thought we could make the few improvements needed to the structure, and you could redesign the interior, keeping authenticity in mind. Maybe nothing needs to be done, apart from updating the bedding and window treatments. Then we could market this as the honeymoon suite."
Angie turned to look at Jared. “Even though Theodore died in here?"
"It'll add to the mystique."
"If I were on my honeymoon I wouldn't want to stay in a room where the man who haunts these grounds died. Maybe we could market it as a lover's getaway with a haunted twist or something like that, instead of a honeymoon suite.” She walked around the four-poster, trailing her fingers on the aged fabric.
"Alan told me once that Clyde and Ruby were married. That the note Ruby left to her son said they met secretly because Theodore wouldn't approve of the marriage.” Angie sat on the edge of the bed, spreading her fingers wide against the fabric of the bedspread underneath her. “I wonder how they felt, hidden away in this room, vowing their love for one another."
She glanced over at Jared. He shoved his hands into his pockets, returning her look. Suddenly, her vision tunneled until she felt a million miles away. Intense love washed over her.
Jared watched as Angie closed her eyes, and lay down on the bed. Her hair swirled around her.
"I wonder how they felt when Theodore found them here, and saw their love.” She slid her arms across the fabric then left them above her head, lost in the emotions of the past.
What is she doing? thought Jared, Is this an invitation? He'd spent the last few days ignoring Angie, but with her lying across the bed like that...
Man, she's killing me!
He walked over to where she lay. Placing his knees between Angie's, he put his hands on the bed by her waist to support his weight. Leaning over her, he whispered, “Angie, are you okay?"
Her big brown eyes opened slightly, sleepily. A small
smile tipped the corners of her mouth as she reached up and touched his cheek, ran her fingertips lightly across his lips.
"Angie?"
"Hmm...?"
"What are you doing?"
"Show me you love me,” she said, running her fingers through Jared's hair then clasping her hands behind his neck. She pulled him down, lifted herself up to him, and captured his mouth with hers in a demanding kiss.
"Show me now,” she breathed against his mouth.
An unknown urgency overtook Jared, and he crushed her lips beneath his. God he wanted this. He wanted her.
Angie parted her lips, darted her tongue into his mouth. His body churned with desire, and he deepened the kiss. Angie gave herself, totally and completely, until she claimed his tongue, gently tugging it tighter within her mouth.
Jared moaned with pleasure.
Breaking the kiss, his gaze locked with eyes that were now chocolate brown and full of desire. Angie pulled his shirt out of his jeans and ran her hands across the naked skin of his back.
His heart was so full of love for this woman. He'd never known he could feel this much happiness. Yet...
Jared saw love for him reflected in her eyes, and felt his heart plunge deeper. Desire pulsed through him in response to her. Lowering his mouth to her neck, he tasted the tempting silkiness of her throat before moving down to the rise of her breasts.
This time it was Angie who moaned. The sound of thick desire made Jared throb. He branded her with another kiss, slid his palm underneath her shirt to cup her breast. “Angie, are you sure about this?” he whispered.
"Clyde, don't stop now, my love."
Jared stilled. “What?"
"Don't stop, I love you, my darling."
Uncertainty filled him. Perhaps he hadn't heard her right? “What did you call me?"
"Why, Clyde, of course.” Angie laughed. “Now stop being silly and make sweet love with me."
Jared placed his forehead against hers and groaned. Lifting her from the bed, he carried her out of the house.
Angie showered his face with kisses until he placed her astride Thunder. He untied both horses then mounted behind Angie. She rested her head against his chest while they rode the short distance to the section of creek where Angie had stopped earlier.