She heard a knock on her bathroom door, drawing her out of her musings. “Ma’am? I’m sorry to bother you, but Master Saint requested I personally invite the remaining guests to the game room for the online request party.”
“Esther, is that you? Hang on, I’ll be right out.” She’d been here for days, and she’d yet to see the housekeeper in person. She’d heard about her. Kasey Lynn and Bryan, even Stan had tales to tell, but for some reason, Margo hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse.
She took one last look. The dress had appeared on the edge of her bed this morning. Beside it was a wildflower, and she knew then it was a gift from Thomas. The dress was the color of rich chocolate, the style flirty and young and sensual. It was not something the responsible Margo would wear. But then, the responsible Margo wouldn’t be having a torrid affair with a man she was supposed to be convincing to sign a contract, in full view of an interested public, no less. A showmance, she rolled her eyes. How many times had she dropped her head into her hands while watching contestants on reality shows fall madly in love, or fall in love with being a couple on camera, only to separate once the credits began to roll?
Oh, they’d been creative. Thomas had ensured that they found places to go to escape the cameras scattered throughout the large Keep. But if her fellow contestant’s reactions were anything to go by, they weren’t fooling anyone. And she certainly hadn’t been doing her job. She couldn’t think about that right now, though. Not when Thomas was waiting for her.
Margo opened the door, her smile faltering at the vision that awaited her. Esther was garbed in a long gray dress, a white apron scalloped with lace tied around her waist. She was humming beneath her breath, waving her translucent hand and watching as Margo’s jeans and velvet sweater folded themselves.
“Sweet Lord.” That first night, Margo had explained away the ghost in the dining room. Or several days with Thomas had blocked it out. But here in her bedroom, there were no wires, no lights or special effects that Margo could see. The housekeeper was a ghost? She was really a ghost? “Esther?”
The smiling woman nodded. “Good evening, ma’am. I don’t mean to overstep, but I have been so looking forward to meeting the woman who has Master Thomas’s tail in a twist.” She chuckled. “Now if only we can find someone for Master Mac.”
“Mas-master… This can’t really be happening.”
Esther tsked, shaking her head. “I told Master Thomas it wasn’t fair leaving you in the dark for so long. You know we’ve been floating around on pins and needles, worried you’d turn a corner or enter a room while we were entertaining the others.”
Margo swallowed. “You’ve been hiding from me? Wait, you said we. There are more of you?”
The housekeeper nodded happily. “Master Thomas allowed me to invite some friends from town. Most have never been to the castle before, and I can imagine it will be a chore to get them out again once the show is done, but it is nice to have so much company.” She giggled. “Other than those two high strung ladies on the first day, we haven’t scared anyone away yet. That young couple are having a time of it, though. No one likes all their strange equipment. I’m afraid Master Mac will have to reimburse them before they go home.”
Margo was having a hard time taking it in. She was talking to a ghost. A ghost who was telling her that while she’d been romping around with the castle tomcat, the others had been having an entirely different experience. Tomcat.
She got to the bed before her knees buckled. “Esther? They’re real aren’t they? Thomas, Mac and Saint are really…real?”
Esther’s smile was filled with compassion and a little pity. “Why, of course they are, Ma’am. As real as you are. Just different.”
“I thought they were actors. That it was a show.”
“Didn’t you ever ask him, then? Master Thomas?”
She hadn’t. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to know. Maybe she thought if she talked about Shifting Reality, or thought about what he’d claimed to be, she’d have to talk to him about the contract. And that conversation would stop what was happening between them. Would make this what it was always supposed to have been. Just business.
The contract that was no longer an issue. He wasn’t an actor or a screenwriter. He was a different species. His website, his video journals had been exactly what they appeared to be. A paranormal being using the Internet to bare his soul, and reveal what he truly was. The fame was immaterial.
Julie had been right. They were the real deal. And because she hadn’t been careful, she’d lost her heart to a cat shifter. Good job, Margo. You’ve done it again. Gotten herself into an impossible situation, one that was destined to break her heart.
“Shall I tell them you’re coming, ma’am?”
Esther’s expression was worried, and Margo tried to smile. “In a minute. And Esther? Tell your friends no one has to hide from me anymore. Not after tonight.”
They were there when she arrived. Kasey Lynn and Bryan, looking flushed and profoundly tousled. Mac, his expression politely pained as he listened to the two speaking over each other about the day’s spectral sightings. Stanley Ayer sat sullen and angry in a chair by the fire, ignoring the others. His behavior had gotten worse with each passing day, his contempt for his hosts barely veiled. Honestly, Margo wasn’t sure why they hadn’t kicked him out.
Secrets. Saint had mentioned something about Stan’s secrets being interesting. And hers. No more. She knew that, job or no job, she wouldn’t be mentioning the contract to these men. She was honestly relieved to have it taken off the table. But her mind was reeling from the reason why.
“Margo Sheffield, glad you decided to join us. Who are we kidding? We’re just glad you can still walk after the busy week you’ve been having.”
Thomas came from nowhere to tower over Stan’s chair. “Careful, Slayer.” He turned to Margo and smiled slowly, his gaze heating as he studied her outfit. “You look beautiful.”
He came to take her hand, and she couldn’t help it. She flinched. She was in shock. Who wouldn’t be?
Thomas narrowed his gaze, taking a deliberate step closer to slide his arm around her waist. “What’s wrong?”
“It may have something to do with me telling Esther to hurry her along.”
Margo turned at the sound of Saint’s voice. He was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him on a large antique billiard table in the corner, his palm-sized device, as ever, in his hand.
She heard Thomas swear under his breath beside her. “Thanks, Saint.”
Margo pulled away from him and glared pointedly. “Yes. Thank you, Saint. Esther and I had an enlightening conversation.”
Saint caught her gaze with his own and smiled. “Thought you might. Now that everyone’s here, we should begin. The viewers are jamming the site with their questions and requests.”
Margo came further into the room, nodding at the filming Liam, and smiling her thanks when Mac stood gallantly, offering her his seat. Mac is a vampire. She was having a hard time believing it. Her job was filled with fantastic stories easily explained by CGI and makeup. This couldn’t be explained away.
It didn’t make much sense. Mac wasn’t a leering, neck chasing monster. He was moody, sure, but a gentleman. Saint couldn’t be less like her idea of a demon. He didn’t frighten her. He didn’t look old enough to vote. And Thomas? He certainly fit his stereotype. Confident, cocky and oversexed. And she distinctly recalled him purring once or twice after making love.
She really needed a drink.
“First question comes from Fanglvr353. We all know her, don’t we? Part of this is a private message for Mac, he can look at that later,” Saint chuckled. “But she also has an important question for Slayer. She asks what you’ve been doing sneaking around the lower floors in the morning. She has a feeling you’re up to no good.”
Everyone looked toward Stan, whose expression was reminiscent of someone who’d sucked the pulp out of a lemon. “I have no earthly idea what you mean. She must be mistaken.
The only time any of us are up and about is late afternoon and evening, in deference to our hosts.”
Margo wasn’t buying it. Neither was anyone else from their expressions, especially Mac’s. He didn’t look surprised. Just alert. She had a feeling he knew more about Stan than he was revealing.
“This one is for Bryan and Kasey Lynn. They want to know what it was like to have a ménage with a ghost.”
“Oh no.”
“Damn it, Bryan. I told you they might have cameras in that hallway.”
Mac covered his grin with one elegant hand, stepping closer. “I don’t remember you sharing this story with me. Let me guess. Rory?”
Kasey Lynn blushed and nodded. “Ever since that first night he’s been, well, very persistent. We just thought… I mean Bryan wanted to so—”
“Kasey Lynn Hollister.”
“What? You did.”
Margo was fascinated. The handsome Scot from their first dinner? “I’m curious too. How was it?”
Kasey Lynn glanced over at the red-faced Bryan before sending Margo a wink and stage-whispering her answer. “Really good.”
Saint chuckled and shook his head. “Why didn’t we let any of my fans win? When a ghost gets more action than a demon, something is not right with the world.”
“It’s disgusting.” Stan’s voice dripped with disdain.
Bryan jerked to a standing position and clenched his fists. “Excuse me?”
“Necrophilia. It’s disgusting.”
Saint piped up. “Technically it’s not necrophilia. No one made out with a decomposing body. Rory’s spirit is very much alive. Although I can see how you would be confu—”
“Just as disgusting as bestiality. I really thought you were different, Margo Sheffield. Thought you were a savvy businesswoman, not a whorish groupie. Sadly, I was mistaken.” Stan looked pointedly at Margo, all the kindness she’d seen on the flight in replaced by bitterness and repulsion. It made her stomach knot, all the hate she could see in his eyes.
Thomas snarled beside her, but it was Mac himself who stepped between them. “You are a guest in my home, but I warn you now the line you are walking gets thinner by the moment.”
Stan sat back down warily, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair like talons. Mac went to stand by the fire, his attention focused on Stan. “Saint, you may continue.”
“Someone here thinks they recognize Margo. She says she used to go to a certain biker bar in Los Angeles about eight years ago. And she distinctly remembers a singer by the name of Margo with a voice that would make an angel sin. You never mentioned that, Ms. Sheffield. Your contest form said office assistant, not vocalist.”
Mac sent her an encouraging smile. “I love music. You should have told us. I could have shown you the castle’s music room.”
She felt Thomas’s gaze on her as well, and he raised a questioning brow. “Biker bar? Margo?”
“That was another life. I don’t sing anymore. And I didn’t lie. I do work in an office.” Her hands were shaking. She’d been afraid of something like this. The bar was the least of her worries. It was the video she’d always been concerned would surface. The video that had destroyed her dreams and broken her father’s heart.
“What video?” Saint tilted his head, looking at her without malice. Merely curiosity. She shook her head.
“The better question is what office? Tell them where you work, Margo Sheffield. Tell them what the paperwork hidden in your carryon is for. Share with all the viewers why you’ve been bending over backwards to please Thomas.” Stan leered in her direction, jumping when Mac took a step toward him.
“You looked through my bag on the plane.” That was why he’d made her join the others. He’d somehow managed to rifle through her things without being caught on camera. “You looked through everyone’s things, didn’t you?”
Stan looked proud. “I had to know my enemies from my allies. And secrets are the surest way to earn loyalty. Unfortunately after the first night it was clear you had another agenda. One I simply couldn’t countenance.” His sneer in Thomas’s direction was gleeful. “I take comfort in the fact that you fooled them all. They were taking care of you, not knowing they were protecting a circling shark.”
Mac turned his searing blue gaze in her direction. She felt strange. She couldn’t look away. She was mesmerized. “What is he referring to?”
Margo didn’t want to tell him, but she felt compelled. She listened in horror as the words came pouring out of her mouth. “The contract. Rights to develop and produce Shifting Reality as a feature film. When I was named as one of the contestants, my boss told me to come and get you to sign or my job would be in jeopardy.”
“You were forced to come here? For a job?” Oh God she could hear the disappointment in Thomas’s voice. The anger.
“Cool.” Bryan glared at Kasey Lynn, but she glared back. “What? A movie would be sweet.”
“Unfortunately Shifting Reality is finished when you leave. Which I believe is going to happen sooner than we’d originally thought.” Mac shook his head. “I also think it is time to end this online request debacle. We have satisfied our part in this, let it be done.”
Saint held up his hand. “We have one last question from Keepsake_Hrt.”
“Julie?” Liam strode over to the desk, camera and all, angling his head to see Saint’s Blackberry.
Mac sighed. “Go ahead.”
“It’s more of a request. She wants Margo to tell Thomas why she hasn’t mentioned the contract once all week.”
Margo looked down at her interlaced hands. She knew what Julie wanted her to say. She wanted her to tell him she had feelings for him. That she’d been so addicted to his touch, his lovemaking—that everything else, including her career, had ceased to matter.
Thomas knelt in front of her so she couldn’t avoid him. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, but she couldn’t make herself tell him. She was scared. Not of him. But of what she felt for him. And she knew he could see her fear. Smell it.
“Okay, we’re done.” Thomas growled out the words, and before Margo could mistake his meaning, he’d flipped her over his shoulder and was striding from the room.
Margo heard Saint chuckle, and then they were headed up the stairs. She saw Esther and Rory, along with several other spirits hovering outside the game room, obviously eavesdropping, and she closed her eyes. There was only so much a sane woman could take, after all.
But she hadn’t felt sane since she’d arrived. Since she’d met Thomas. And now it was over. She had no delusions. He was mad as hell. He would confront her, thankfully in private, and send her on her way. She could only hope Dugan was waiting outside with the bus.
They got to her bedroom through the bookshelf-cum-doorway, and he set her on her feet. She started to speak but he held up his hand, walking across the room to lock the door that led to the tower stairs.
She felt a shiver of true fear when he pushed the bureau in front of the bookshelf. “What are you doing?”
He turned to face her. “I know the movie business. Did your boss tell you to do whatever was necessary to get my signature? To fuck me if you had to? Was all your time on the site a part of the plan too?”
She stepped back, feeling as though he’d physically hit her. “You think I slept with you to keep my job?” She whirled toward the bookshelf, determined to kick him out of her room, pack and leave before he could see how much he’d hurt her.
He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going anywhere, kitten. I’m not convinced yet. You haven’t given me everything I want.”
Chapter Seven
“Fuck you, Lyons. And don’t call me kitten, you jackass.” She rolled off her back, scrambling to get off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going, kitten? Don’t you want me to sign the contract? I bet there’s a promotion in it for you.” He grabbed the skirt of her dress, holding her fast.
The fight suddenly sapped out of
her, and she sat on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Thomas was there in an instant, pulling her into his arms. “Baby, Margo please. Please don’t cry.”
“I would never—”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t. I’m an ass. I’m sorry, baby.”
She pulled back, wiping her cheeks. “No you don’t. I would never use sex to try and advance my career. It’s the reason I stopped singing in the first place.”
She’d been so sure of herself, so certain she could conquer the world with her voice and her guitar…drunk on her first taste of freedom in the city where stars were born. She’d played anywhere, for anyone who would listen. She’d been good too. And then she’d met him. He managed bands that got top billings. He had an eye for talent. And he wanted to make her a star.
Only it was all a lie. He’d romanced her, taking her to the best places to meet the best people. And he’d told her he loved her. She’d made one mistake. She’d trusted him. He’d taken that trust, and her innocence, when he’d secretly taped them having sex. And then passed the tape around to his friends in the business. She’d been devastated. He’d even made her sing for him wearing nothing but her guitar before he’d taken her. It was the first and only time she’d sung on camera.
She pulled herself together as she finished sharing her story with Thomas. “I thought I could overcome it. But I couldn’t take the chance that it would come out. My father had always dreamed I’d be a star. He’d wanted me to follow my dreams, said it was what he worked so hard to give me. When I quit I don’t think he ever forgave me for not telling him why. I didn’t even sing at his funeral. I couldn’t.”
Thomas held her tighter, rocking her as she finished speaking. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her damp cheeks. “Is he alive? The man who did this?”
“I-I don’t know where Jimmy is. And I don’t care.”
“I do.”
She sent him a watery smile. “He doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know.”
“Margo Sheffield, you’re an amazing human. I don’t think I’ve known anyone braver. You came here, on camera, despite your past. You trusted me with your body, though you didn’t believe I was what I said I was.”
My Shifter Showmance: Shifting Reality, Book 1 Page 6