Читать книгу Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress - Michelle Celmer - Страница 12

The following morning, Selene needed something to do other than worry over Adrien. For that reason, she opted to explore the third-floor attic, afforded only a brief glance at Adrien’s closed office door and kept right on walking until she located the attic’s entry. After last night, she decided she’d been too accessible. Too compliant. The time had come for her to take control.

When she opened the attic door, she encountered another steep staircase and flipped on the switch that turned on a lone bulb hanging high overhead. With each step she took, an ominous feeling assaulted her. She scolded herself for overreacting and continued on, not certain of what she would find. Hopefully not a passel of rodents and spiders. Or wandering spirits.

She opened a second door and entered the area that spanned the length of the house. Although rays of light filtered in from the three dormer windows, the place still retained a gloomy atmosphere, from the weathered wood floors to the cobwebs draped in the corners. A pile of helter-skelter planks and fabric near one window immediately caught her attention, and upon further investigation, she discovered several splintered chairs and tables, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer or hacksaw to them. Someone who obviously didn’t like the furniture, or had chosen to expend their anger on the antiques.

A sense of foreboding sent chills up her spine like menacing fingers, and she gladly left the furniture remnants behind to examine the two boxes across the room. She came upon a gold mine—several pieces of fine china and glassware, all carefully wrapped in white cloth, a definite contrast to the destruction. But she found no missing journals, no other pieces of the past. And she wasn’t up to searching for more clues at the moment.

After organizing the boxes, Selene left the attic and made her way to the room that Ella had claimed was once the nursery—a happier place, she hoped. She again paused outside Adrien’s office door and considered knocking, until she heard the sound of muffled conversation. Apparently he was on the phone discussing business, so she decided not to disturb him. At least not yet.

Selene opened the door to another lengthy room painted a bright yellow, sunshine spilling from the uncovered windows casting golden light on the walls, dust motes floating about like miniature snowflakes. And in the corner rested a tiny spindled cradle and a lone wooden rocking chair that looked as if they’d had limited use. When she crossed the room and nudged the cradle, a strong sense of sadness overcame her. Perhaps this room, too, had been the site of some tragedy, and she hated to think that tragedy involved a child.

A series of shrill rings jerked Selene back into the present. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and answered with a melancholy, “Hello.”

“Hi, Selene. It’s Abby. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, I was about to call you. I’ve found a few pieces of china I’d like you to take a look at when you have time.”

“I’ll be out of town until the end of next week, but feel free to bring them by then. And I’m calling you because I think I found someone who might be able to help you with the house’s history.”

The timely twist of fate definitely elevated Selene’s optimism. “Who?”

“His name his Jeb Gutherie and he lives in an assisted-living community in Baton Rouge called Briar Oaks. I don’t have an exact location, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Not much to go on, but Selene was willing to take her chances. If she left now, she could arrive before lunch. And if lucky, she might have at least one mystery solved today. “Thanks, Abby. You’ve come to my rescue again.”

“You’re welcome. How’s the job going?”

The job was going fine. Her relationship with Adrien was going places it probably shouldn’t. “I’m making slow progress, but it’s still progress.”

“Seen any ghosts yet?”

Only in her dreams, particularly last night. She’d seen Grace’s face that had turned into another unidentified face—a woman with light brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. She’d woken up twice, practically paralyzed, before drifting off to sleep only to have more fitful dreams of falling. “No, no spirits. Only the occasional creepy house sound.”

“Let me know if anything changes, and good luck.”

Following the phone call, excitement over the prospect of unraveling the plantation’s past sent Selene out of the house and to her car without telling Adrien goodbye. After all, he’d said she didn’t need his permission to leave, and she didn’t intend to request it. Having him wonder where she might be going could prove to be a good thing.

He stood at the window and again watched her leave, wondering where she might be going this time. Maybe back to Georgia, although she had no suitcases in her possession. He’d heard her footsteps and had opened his door to see her entering the attic and knew what she’d seen—the result of his fury. Yet she had no way of knowing he’d been responsible for the destruction. No way of knowing why he’d taken out his anger on several priceless antiques, and he didn’t plan to tell her.

He had no plans to return to her tonight, either. He needed time to assess his next move. To decide how much farther he would go before he put an end to their liaison. Creating some distance between them would be wise. But his wisdom warred with his desire, and only time would tell if he could stay away from her. Correction, how long he would stay away from her.

Little by little, she was wearing him down. Tearing away at his resistance and, if not careful, he’d end up traveling down a road he didn’t dare take.

An hour later, Selene pulled into the parking lot at a high-rise retirement community north of Baton Rouge. She entered the foyer and was immediately greeted by a young woman seated behind a reception desk. “Welcome to Briar Oaks. May I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m looking for Jeb Gutherie.”

She eyed Selene suspiciously. “Is he expecting you?”

“Actually, no. But I believe he has some information I need.” Selene glanced at the woman’s name tag. “Tisha, could you tell him I’m inquiring about the history of a plantation in St. Edwards?”

Following a sigh, the young woman slid a clipboard in front of Selene. “If you’ll sign in and wait here, I’ll see if I can find him.”

Selene jotted down her name and waited a few moments until the receptionist returned. “He’ll see you,” Tisha said. “But I have to warn you, he tires easily and might nod off now and then. And he’ll need to be in the dining room in about twenty minutes for lunch.”

As long as she could garner some information, Selene could live with that. “I won’t keep him too long.”

Selene followed Tisha through the vestibule that opened into a large atrium with an open-air dining room to the right and offices on the left. Just beyond that, Tisha stopped at a smaller room and faced Selene. “This is the game room. If you need to speak with him privately, you can use the conference area next door.”

Selene peeked inside to find a group of four elderly gentlemen playing cards at a round table. “Which one is he?”

Tisha pointed discreetly. “On the far end facing us.”

Selene homed in on the man seated in a wheelchair, his shock of gray hair contrasting with his mocha-colored skin. He wore a neat brown suit and a number of years on his thin face. “The one in the bow tie?”

“That’s him. And good luck.”

“Thanks.”

After Tisha departed, Selene stepped into the room and cleared her throat. “Mr. Gutherie?”

He glanced up from his cards, mischief calling out from his light brown eyes. “Well looky here, boys. I have a guest. And a mighty pretty one at that.”

All eyes turned to Selene and, after the rest of the card players muttered polite greetings, Mr. Gutherie said, “Could you give us some privacy, gentlemen? We’ll take up where we left off after lunch.” He spoke with Southern sophistication, his voice as clear as the summer skies.

The men pushed back from the table, stood and passed by with greetings and cautions not to believe a word Gutherie said. After they’d filed out, Selene approached the table. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Gutherie.”

“Call me Jeb,” he said as he gave her offered hand a gentle shake. “And forgive me for not standing. My legs don’t work well, but my mind’s still as sharp as a steel trap.”

Selene took the vacated chair next to him and set her purse on the floor beside her. “I’m here about the House of Midnight.”

His expression turned somber. “The House of Sunshine, you mean. Or at least that’s what it was called a long time ago.”

A piece of the puzzle had already fallen into place, and that pleased Selene greatly. “I didn’t realize that about the name. In fact, I know very little about the plantation’s history, and that’s why I’m here.” She briefly explained her role in the restoration, and then asked the first question that came to mind. “Someone told me you might know something about the previous owners, specifically a woman named Grace. Her portrait hangs in the rotunda.”

“Ah, Miss Grace.” He tented his fingers beneath his chin and tapped them together. “She lived in the house a long time ago and died before I was born. But my grandmother spoke fondly of her. They grew up together and remained good friends, even after the war.”

“Which war would that be?”

He chuckled. “The Civil War, although it wasn’t too civil.”

Selene tried to hide her shock but doubted she succeeded. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“I’ve seen one hundred years as of this past May,” he said proudly. “Miss Grace was my aunt.”

Another surprise among many. “Your grandmother and Grace were sisters?”

“No. Miss Grace and my father were half siblings by Stanton Gutherie, a heartless bastard. He owned the plantation next to Sunshine House and thought he owned everything and everyone, including his workers. My grandmother, Effie, was one of his slaves, orphaned at a young age when her parents died after the war. She had no place to go, so she stayed on at the Gutherie plantation. And when she was only fifteen, Stanton got her with child. That child was my father.”

Selene had never expected such a disturbing history. “How did Grace come to live at the plantation?”

His face lit up with remembrance. “Ah, Miss Grace was as pure as her father was evil, according to my grandmother. She fell in love with Zeke Cormier, the owner of Sunshine House and a man Stanton hated. But she defied her father and married Zeke against his wishes.”

Now Selene knew the identity of Z. in the journal—Grace’s journal. “And your grandmother continued to live with Stanton?”

“Luckily, no. Grace took Effie and my father to live with her after she married.”

Jeb went on to explain how Grace had become pregnant two years into the marriage, how Effie had described the pure joy in the house, until Grace passed away from black fever a few weeks before the baby was born, a little boy who perished as well.

Jeb sat back and shook his head. “Mr. Zeke went crazy after that. He painted the house black. He refused to let my grandmother clear out the nursery.”

Selene recalled the sad little cradle in the corner. “How awful.”

“It only got worse,” Jeb said. “Mr. Zeke took to the bottle. He eventually drank himself to death. My grandmother tried to help him, but he wouldn’t let her. He did leave her the house when he died.” Again his expression softened. “I spent summers at the plantation when I was growing up. Many of my fondest memories are tied up in that place. In the grove at the west of the property, my father built a tree house.” He rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “I wonder if it’s still there.”

Selene didn’t know, but she would find out. “And your grandmother—”

“Died in a rest home back in the sixties. I owned the house until Giles Morrell bought it in a public auction because I couldn’t pay the back taxes. I haven’t been back since.”

“You probably wouldn’t want to see it now,” Selene said. “It’s in a sad state, but I hope to change that soon.”

“I wish you luck.”

She took Jeb’s hand into hers. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how to repay you.”

He patted her arm. “Treat the house with kindness, Miss Selene. Bring back the joy and the sunshine.”

If only she could promise him that, but unfortunately more sadness resided there, resonating from Adrien, although she still didn’t know any of those facts yet. But she hoped eventually to come by that information.

Selene had one last question she needed to ask, although she felt a little foolish. “Did your grandmother ever claim to have seen any ghosts?”

Jeb chuckled again. “She swore she talked to Zeke after he passed until she told him to go to the light and find Miss Grace and their boy child. He supposedly left after that and she didn’t see him again. Might seem crazy to some folks, but I believed her.”

Zeke accepting the call to glory was definitely good news. Selene had one wounded man to deal with; she didn’t need another. Especially a ghostly man. “I don’t think it sounds crazy at all.”

He gave her a questioning look. “Most people don’t believe in the ability to talk to the dead.’”

“I’m not most people, I guess.”

“Because you have that ability, too.”

“I …” How could she possibly respond without lying to him? “I don’t talk to ghosts. Let’s just say I have strong intuition.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “Miss Selene, I spent my life as a cultural anthropologist, traveling the world. I’ve seen things that can’t be explained, frightening things. Wondrous things. I also know how cruel people can be when I learned early on the meaning of quadroon and mulatto. But I also learned that what makes us different only makes us unique, and we should be proud of those differences.”

Selene lowered her gaze to their joined hands. “It’s difficult though, being different.”

He tipped her chin up with one careworn finger. “You will find someone someday who will understand and accept you. A man, I believe. If you haven’t already found one.”

Had she? No, not Adrien. He would never understand her powers any better than she would ever understand the root of his pain.

Tisha stuck her head in the door and called, “Time for lunch, Mr. Gutherie.”

Selene stood and offered her hand to Jeb again. “As soon as I have the plantation back in order, I would love to have you visit, maybe even stay a day or two. I’d be glad to pick you up and drive you.”

He gave her a mock frown. “Don’t take too long, otherwise I might be six feet under.”

She laughed softly. “I have a feeling you’ll be with us for a while.”

His expression turned serious once more. “Miss Selene, I’ve buried two wives and two sons. I’m ready to go when the Lord calls me home. But seeing the Sunshine House again would give me a reason to stay a little longer, so I’ll just tell Saint Peter he’ll have to wait until that happens.”

Filled with a fondness for this astonishing man, Selene leaned over and gave him a hug. “You be sure to do that.”

She headed to the door but pulled up short when Jeb said, “One more thing, Miss Selene.”

She turned and faced him again. “Anything.”

“This lifetime passes quickly, until one day we turn around and we’ve seen a century come and go. That’s why it’s best not to ignore your destiny.”

“I’ll remember that,” Selene said as she left him with a smile.

And she would, even though she had no idea where her destiny might lie.

“Where have you been?”

Selene set her bags on the kitchen counter, surprised to be greeted by Adrien, who both looked and sounded quite perturbed. He also looked like his usual sexy self dressed in worn jeans and tight white T-shirt. “I’ve been running some errands,” she said as she began to unload the groceries.

“You should have told me you were leaving.”

She slid two cartons of yogurt and a bottle of orange juice into the refrigerator, turned and closed the door with a push of her bottom. “I recall you telling me that I didn’t need your permission to leave the house.”

He took a quick check of his watch. “It’s almost nine.”

“I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

He surveyed the two bags on the counter. “For someone who spent the day shopping, you didn’t buy much.”

“Actually, I didn’t only go shopping today. I met with the man who owned this house before your grandfather bought it.”

Adrien looked only mildly curious. “How did you find him?”

“Through a friend. He was very nice and accommodating.”

“The friend or the previous owner?”

He sounded jealous, and Selene loved it. “Both. The owner’s name is Jeb Gutherie. We had a very nice visit.”

“Where did you meet with him?” His tone was laced with suspicion.

She could extend the game, or admit the truth and be done with it. “At the retirement home in Baton Rouge. He lives there.”

If Adrien was at all relieved, he didn’t show it. “You spent the better part of the day with him?”

She’d spent the better part of the day in a bookstore with a mocha cappuccino, reading a sex manual. She’d also made a purchase that she hoped might prove beneficial later tonight. “I spent less than an hour with him, but I’ve solved the mystery of our lovers. He told me—”

“Spare me the details.”

She shrugged, said, “Okay,” and opened the cabinet to put away a few staples. If he was too stubborn to hear the news, she’d save it for later.

“You didn’t stop anywhere on your way back?” he asked.

His third degree was getting just a bit tired. “I grabbed some fast food on the way home. Oh, and I stopped at a biker bar and played pool with the locals. I even got a tattoo on my butt. It says Helpless Georgia Peach.” She turned from the cabinet and sent him a sunny smile. “Would like to see it?”

His expression turned stony. “I’m glad you find this humorous, but I damn sure don’t. Anything could have happened to you on the back roads at night.”

She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. I drove all the way from Georgia alone and that took nine hours, not thirty minutes.” She propped one elbow on the counter and leaned into it. “Did you miss me?”

When he didn’t respond, she walked right up to him, wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. At first he failed to respond, but with a little cajoling, he soon became an active participant in the kiss. She relished the hardness of his body, the play of his tongue and the feel of his palms sliding over her bottom.

But Selene only allowed it for a while before she pulled away and reclaimed her place at the counter. “Well, I guess that answers my question. You did miss me.”

He stared at her for a few moments and Selene knew what he wanted to do. Saw what he wanted to do in a series of images, all involving hoisting her up onto the counter and having his way with her right there. But instead of acting on the fantasy, he turned and muttered, “I’m going to bed.”

Selene knew better. Maybe he was retiring to his bedroom, but he wasn’t going to sleep. And if all went as planned, she would make certain of that.

When she was assured Adrien had gone upstairs, she grabbed the plastic boutique bag and walked quietly to her room, turning down the lights behind her. She’d grown more comfortable with the darkness even though she still dreaded the sounds. Even more so now that she knew Grace’s and Zeke’s stories. She paused at the top landing and stared down the darkened corridor housing the nursery that had never been used, again overcome with a strong feeling of sadness.

Shaking off the melancholy, Selene headed down the hall, purposefully avoiding the demon’s steely glare. She took a quick bath, retired to her room and withdrew the negligee from the sack—a simple short satin slip of a gown, appropriately the color of her mother’s Black Magic roses. She could definitely use a little magic tonight, as well as some courage.

After dressing in the gown, she collapsed onto the bed and ran her hand over the silky fabric, bringing about a host of memories of the last time she’d done this very thing with another man in mind, but for all the wrong reasons. As it turned out, Richard hadn’t been at all receptive. With Adrien, she might be setting herself up for the same rejection. But she had to try. She’d spent a good two hours that day studying the philosophy behind tantric sex, and in turn realizing what Adrien’s “modified” method had been missing—the part that dealt with enlightenment and illumination, and the purity of love. In order to reach that plane, one had to be open emotionally as well as physically. Adrienhad avoided emotions altogether. He was still avoiding them.

Selene honestly believed that if she could convince him to let go of his resistance, his control, then maybe his internal wounds might begin to heal. Maybe he could allow himself to feel again. Or perhaps he might close himself off even more.

She wanted to take that chance. Had to take that chance. First, she had to find him, and she hoped that didn’t entail searching the entire house.

When she heard the sound of his door opening onto the balcony, she knew that wouldn’t be the case. The time had arrived to make her move. To show him that her patience had run out. And to make his fantasy a reality.