He wished she would just go away so things would return to normal. But that wasn’t going to happen, at least not anytime soon. His Master had told him to keep away from her, as if he was the one to worry about. “Stupid girl,” he grumbled under his breath, balling his dirty hands into fists at his sides as he made his way back down the stairs.
The worst pain of all is rejection
RAVENHURST * PRESENT DAY
THUNDER clapped loudly, vibrating the room. Raven jumped reflexively. Gusts of wind tore through the open window, the one she had fought to open earlier to get the stale unused odor out of the room. Now she frantically tried to close the window as sheets of icy rain pelted her in the face, wetting her hair, and clothing in a matter of seconds. Shivering and completely drenched she battled the window. When in the hell had it started to rain? A pool of water was already collecting on the floor. “Oh perfect.”
The damn floor probably cost more than half the antiques in the home. Reed had told her the floor was made from an actual hull of a ship. And not just any ship either, it was rumored to have been made from a Queen’s ship. Knowing her luck it was probably Queen Victoria’s ship or some other equally amazing historical figure - making it insanely rare and priceless at the same time. The floor was probably worth more than the house itself, which was another nugget of information she had learned at the auction house. Sometimes the old wood, certain types of old wood could be worth millions. Old barns were worth a pretty penny too, even the dilapidated ones that were falling down. Especially since everyone was into using, the older hard wood to make floors now. And wood that was hundreds of years old was strong - really, freakishly strong and could be sanded and stained bringing the wood back to its former brilliance. The wood used for hardwood floors now was not that dense, most of it was soft and could scuff easily and ding. The wood she was standing on now was nearly indestructible with the exception of the loss of finish, which would be just her luck. To re-match the finish was nearly impossible; you would have to refinish the entire floor, which was more than her meager paycheck could sustain. Hell she had a hard enough time buying decent clothing, let alone paying for a damn floor she ruined by accident.
It would be the icing on the proverbial cake of her life at the moment. Her entire day had been nothing more than one giant mess after the other. She probably should have stayed in bed. Well, maybe not. She really didn’t mind her morning, at least not the part where she saw Reed in all his naked glory. But the vision with the couple in the throes of passion was unsettling and admittedly arousing at the same time. It was like she had turned on skin-a-max (Cinemax) in her mind and apparently Reed’s as well. At least she thought he saw what she saw. And the library…she sighed. She was sure she was going to have the best sex of her life…
Raven wasn’t a virgin, far from it. Well, that wasn’t completely true, but it was kind-of true. She had only slept with one other guy. It wasn’t memorable. Actually, it was terrible, horrifying even. Hence, it was the only reason she hadn’t been in a big hurry to repeat the act since. Benji Dobson had barely made it inside of her before he shook like he was having a seizure of some sort and spewed his load down the inside of her thigh. She dubbed him—PE with no DC-Premature ejaculator with no Dick Control. It was almost laughable, but to make the unmemorable event even more humiliating he actually accused her of not being a virgin. Apparently, he expected a deluge of blood. She wanted to say it wasn’t her fault, but gave up. Why bother. She doubted he even made it inside her body anyway. It was hard to tell.
She sighed. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Sex with Reed would have been hot, so hot. He knew what he was about—he was a man. She wondered how old he was. He seemed older, worldly. And before when he was kissing her, everything fell away and it was just the two of them…it was like …or would have been, like, movie sex: perfect.
She doubted she would get a repeat performance either. Not that she should really even be entertaining the idea, especially after the way he acted. After her embarrassing debacle, sliding off the desk, he kept his distance.
The mood was completely blown to smithereens. Like a giant missile had been dropped right on their almost… would have been her best sex ever interlude—KABOOM!
Reed couldn’t keep eye contact with her. She didn’t mind that though. She didn’t want to see the look of revulsion that would surely be on his face.
Her face heated thinking about it. “Oh well,” she sighed. It was probably for the best. Right.
Well, that was the load she fed herself to feel better. It wasn’t working though, far from it. Which probably had more to do with how he acted after—Reed stood there until she rolled up to sitting, then after he helped her to her feet he had practically ran across the room to put some distance between them both. She knew this because she could see his fancy Italian loafers zipping across the room eating up the carpet. She didn’t need to look at his face either. She could visualize the look without seeing it just fine. No, she didn’t need to see his face—she was too embarrassed to look anyway.
Raven guessed once he saw she was alive and kicking that is when he decided to bolt. He tossed out some lame excuse about having a missed appointment and took off. Raven had watched his departing form, noting, he probably broke a few speed records. She tried to laugh it off but it turned quickly into a choked back sob. She had barely finished jerking her clothing back in order when Milford walked into the room.
EARLIER IN THE LIBRARY
“Ahem.” Milford cleared his throat as he walked silently into the library.
“Reed, err, Mr. Scott wanted me to inform you he had to leave on unexpected business.”
Raven stood there, utterly mortified, brushing a stray hair from her eyes.
“So…ah…” he left the sentence open.
Raven managed to find her voice. “Right… sure…ah thank you,” her voice started to quiver. Suddenly she wanted to ball her eyes out like a baby.
Milford darted his eyes around the room and finally after a long silent pause he brought his eyes back to hers. “The other, ah… Mr. Scott will be indisposed as well…” He shifted awkwardly, pulling at his waistcoat. “I am afraid you will have to dine alone this evening. So would you like a tray brought up to your room?” he questioned nervously, sounding anxious.
Raven’s stomach lurched, absorbing the next verbal blow, like someone had punched her in her gut. She fought to gather the remains of her wounded pride that had been blown to bits and forced a fake, albeit, quivering smile on her face. “Oh that would be…um, yeah… lovely.”
Milford stepped back, slowly inching towards the open doorway.
Raven could see him inching his way towards the door to get out of the room. The entire situation was completely laughable. Normally she would have had a good self-deprecating laugh, but not today. No, today she was too humiliated. “Okay then,” she mumbled, straightening her spine.
“Very well then, around eight good for you?” asked Milford. “To eat that is?”
“Yep,” she said and nodded her head up and down. It seemed to be the only thing she could do at the moment. Milford still stood there, a look of pity crossing his brow. Well that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She would not be pitied. No, she had plenty of that emotion stored up to give herself for a lifetime and she planned on doing just that once she was alone again. “That’s perfect. I wanted to eat alone this evening anyway,” she said quickly and stretched out her arms in an exaggerated yawn. “Wow, I am sleepy.”
“Sure, of course,” Milford said. “It has been a trying day.”
Raven pulled her arms back and hugged her midsection. “Yes it has,” she agreed readily. “Beyond trying…humiliating is a better word,” she muttered.
Milford was already halfway through the door; he stopped and pivoted. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Oh, nothing,” she lied.
“Are you sure?”
Raven widened her eyes for emphasis. “Yes, I am sure.”
His body teetered on the edge of the threshold. “I will go tell the maids, if that is all right.”
“Yup, totally fine,” she said and widened her eyes, again when he didn’t move.
A look of sadness crossed Milford’s normally stoic face. “Sometimes men don’t realize what is in front of them until it is too late.”
Tears welled in Raven’s eyes, her throat clogging. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Yes, well…” Milford smiled sadly at her, seemingly at a loss for words. He turned once more and then stopped. “If you need anything, anything at all…”
Raven was barely keeping it together. Unshed tears filled her eyes. She could scarcely make out his outline. Her body shook, trying her best not to let him see her cry like an idiot. She turned away from Milford—she had to or else she would start to cry.
“Gotcha,” she called over her shoulder, straightening the pile of already straight papers on the desk. The ones she had helped Reed clean up before…she couldn’t bring herself to think about it. Her stomach dropped.
Once Raven heard Milford walk out of the room, she waited a few moments, until the distinct sound of his footsteps faded away. She lifted her hand and covered her mouth, to bite back another sob, gave the desk one more look of derision before she ran back out of the library and back to her room. Once alone, and locked tightly inside, she threw herself onto the hard bed and proceeded to bawl her eyes out.
A good hour had passed before her tears were finally spent, which put an end to her pity party. With one last, sigh—sob—hiccup, she rolled off the bed. She walked over to the huge set of windows, staring across the expanse of sky. The sun was completely gone now, choked out by dark clouds that loomed on the horizon. The storm brewing off in the distance looked like it was going to be one heck of a doozy when it finally arrived. Normally Raven loved thunderstorms—well that wasn’t completely true—she loved the “before the storm” beauty of the ominous clouds hanging low and the way the wind would whip through the trees making the heavy limbs sway back and forth. The thunderclaps and the lightning skittering across the sky, and of course the rain, was what she could take a pass on.
She shivered and rubbed her arms. A chill was in the air and the barometer was dropping considerably. She made fast work of removing her clothes. She tossed them onto another pile of clothing in the corner of the room and quickly pulled her staple pair of jeans, faded t-shirt and bright red Uggs. She didn’t even bother fixing her makeup—to hell with it, she thought. Grabbing her stuff she went off to document the contents of another room.
Lightning flashed across the horizon, illuminating the night sky, bringing her mind back to the task at hand. Raven refused to feel sorry for herself a moment more. Reed wasn’t worth it. No man was—Jerks. She pretended the window was Reed’s stupid face and beat the shit out of the frame with the base of her palm.
The window rattled, but it still didn’t budge. She was starting to freak out and this time it had nothing to do with men. The ancient carpet would be ruined at any moment too, if she didn’t shut the damn window.
Another crack of lightning lit up the night sky, making her jump. She hit her head on the base of the window, her feet slipping in the water. She tried to hold on but whatever she grabbed twisted in her hand, followed by a loud creaking sound. Her body hit the floor hard, groaning in pain. At this rate she would be black and blue, covered in bruises. Water pelted her in the face, drenching her even more. Thunder clapped right outside the window. The force shook the house, making the floor vibrate. Something hit the floor with a distinct thud, roll sound—like the bottle, she had chased the previous evening. Raven braced herself for the shatter that would surely follow, but there was none. The lights flickered with another roll of thunder. The window dropped, smacking loudly against the sill.
“Ahh,” Raven yelped, scared shitless. Her heart banged against her ribcage, as if it were trying to escape. Another flash of lightning cracked just outside the window. She jumped again. “Shit!”
“Just a storm, just a storm,” she told herself as she took a few calming breaths and stood back up.
Perfect, her ass was wet.
She looked around, wondering what fell, and then realized she had been so absorbed in the puddle of pity she was wallowing in, that she didn’t even take a moment to appreciate the contents of the room.
A large bed was behind her, the heavy fabric hung down from the canopy. It was puke green. Not that Raven had ever seen puke that was green but if she had she was sure that was what the color would be. She ran her fingers across the fabric. It was velvet. The fabric alone was worth quite a bit, if it was undamaged. She would need better light to examine it closer and then she would snap off a few shots for Ned since he was the expert in textiles.
Raven had no idea material could be worth so much money, but Ned had assured her, some cloth could go for hundreds if not thousands of dollars.
Ned had regaled Raven on a story about a girl he knew who found a bunch of old fabric sample books at an estate sale that no one wanted. She paid next to nothing for it, but actually ended up turning it into quite a lucrative little business. She sold them as quilting squares and even made enough money to quit her day job. Now she spent her time scouring flea markets, yard sales, church sales, and thrift shops where she picks up old damaged coats, clothing, and linens she then turns into quilting squares—who knew.
Thunder rumbled overhead, the lights flickering again. Raven caught sight of the carvings on the bed. There were creepy looking cherubs carved on the headboard, while others were around the posts.
On the other side of the bed was a globed lamp, to which she walked over and switched on. Hazy yellow light barely made it past the double floral painted globe. So much for that, she had hoped it would make the room brighter, less daunting. With the shadows, and the storm, the room was giving her the creeps. Gooseflesh rose on her arms and she rubbed them, trying to decide whether to go back to her own room or finish taking the rest of the pictures she needed. There was a lot to go through in this room. Maybe it would be better to come back in the light of day. Besides her ass was wet and it was pretty uncomfortable.
Yes, it would be better to change, and then she would come back. She was not looking forward to the trek back to her room either and wished there was a short cut. The hallways leading to this part of the house were long, shadowy, and very unsettling.
Earlier, when she was having a pity party she didn’t notice things as much. She sighed, twisted her hair back up into a messy bun, and shoved her pen back into it. She walked into the bath and grabbed a small linen towel, thinking she should clean the water up off the floor at least before she left. She got down on all fours and began mopping up the water.
A large metal urn sat on the floor off to the side of the fireplace, probably used for the ashes. She pulled that over on the carpet and wrung the towel out into it. Water splattered down inside. Of course knowing her luck, it too, was probably a priceless antique. She would just have to be careful and wipe it out really well once she was finished, so it wouldn’t rust. Meticulously she mopped the floor, wrung out the rag, and repeated the process until all the water was cleaned up. She leaned back and inspected her handy-work while rubbing away the crick in her neck.
“Good work Raven.” She felt immeasurably better now that the water was off the wood and it still looked all right, thank goodness. She moved over to the carpet and did the same, pressing the towel down into the pile, and then wringing it out. She ran her hand over the carpet, checking for any other wetness. Back and forth, her hands slid against the pile of the carpet, and then she reached out under the bed. Her hand hit something and sent it sailing out across the carpet.
She groaned and stood up. “Oh Great, now what was that?”
She walked over and picked it up. Her breath caught. It was lovely, gorgeous actually. This was the one thing she had been dying to find all along: Jewelry. She had an overwhelming u
rge to put it on, look at herself in the mirror. The stone sat in the palm of her hand, the size comparable to a robin’s egg, the coloring deep red. She her fingers over the stone, it glowed. She wanted to put it on. In fact she felt like she needed to put it on, which was insane, the chain was broken. Still she walked over to the mirror, and with one hand held firmly on the stone she lifted the chain with her other hand and held them behind her neck.
There she stood, in front of the mirror, her hair stuck full of pens, her face flushed from cleaning the water up. A vision flashed in her mind, she saw herself dressed in a gown, the red matched that of the stone, with a black overlay, and adornments sewn onto the gown itself. Music filled her mind, not Pitbull, no, something older, like a Minuet or perhaps a waltz. Through the mirror behind her reflection she could see a ballroom filled with couples dressed in ball gowns and tuxes, but not modern dress, it was clothing from another time. The couples danced, whirling in time to the music. She swayed back and forth, watching the gown shimmer under the lights. She closed her eyes and was swept away further into the vision. She squeezed the amulet tighter, not realizing what she was even doing.
The vision changed, instead of a ball it was only her, or someone who looked a lot like her, standing in this room, in front of the mirror, in a different gown as a man came up behind her. She could feel his fingers undoing her gown. One by one, the buttons released. He was dark, brooding, wearing Victorian garb as well—sexy. She could see him in her mind’s eye, kissing her neck, caressing her, her body charged with electricity from his touch. She was getting warm all over, her breath coming in rushed hitches. She knew it wasn’t real. It was just her overactive imagination in full swing. It certainly felt real though. Like her body wanted so much more. She could smell the heady scent of him as his kisses ravaged her neck. She opened her eyes and watched him in the reflection of the mirror. He lifted his head and their eyes met for a breathless moment. She shivered. It was all a bit erotic. Then he began his silent assault once more, moving lower, getting bolder, with his tongue, his lips. The gown she held falling away as he moaned in ecstasy, his hard length pressing in from behind…
DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Page 10
