by Unknown
“Ariana? Are you okay, my dear? You look as you’ve heard from a ghost.” Tina asks with her sweet, soothing Irish accent.
How long is this lunatic going to continue to torture me, and how did he get my number? What does he want from me or what is he looking for? The spotlight? Is he hoping for his fifteen minutes of fame? The sick bastard. I can’t even get the police involved because if I do . . . I’ll be buried with the flowers he planted. Oh God, the fear I had with Danny doesn’t even come close to the horror that’s coursing through me right now.
The phone rings again, and I jump out of my skin. I’m not answering. It could be him again, wanting to terrorize me some more. I get up from the stool and pace around like a nervous animal, my heart still hammering hard against my chest. He’s tearing me apart piece by piece. I’m a nervous wreck, and it’s only the beginning. I start when I hear Tina’s voice.
“Should I answer that for you, my dear?” Tina asks with concern.
I nod and mouth, “Yes.”
I blink away the tears, taking in deep breaths, releasing the tension to pacify my nerves and the uncontrollable shakiness within me.
“Hello . . . good morning, Mr. Grayson.” A smile appears over Tina’s face.
Relief floods through me when I hear Michael’s name from Tina’s lips.
“Not well, I’m afraid . . . . She had a rather disturbing phone call . . . . She’s shaken up and ashen, the poor dear . . . . Just a few minutes ago . . . . Yes, sir. One moment.” Tina places her hand over the receiver. “Mr. Grayson is on the line, my dear. Are you all right to take his call?” She asks with a warm, nurturing expression over her beautiful Irish features.
I nod. “Thank you,” I say, my voice small.
I take a long breath before I answer. “Michael.” My voice cracks.
“Ariana, what’s wrong? Mrs. O’Conner mentioned you received a disturbing phone call.”
“It was him, Michael,” I choke out. “The stalker or whatever you want to call him. I . . . I . . . don’t know how he got this number,” I rush out, and I can’t stop the overwhelming tremors and my teeth from chattering.
“Ariana, I’m on my way over, give me your cell number and disconnect the phone.”
“Michael, you have meetings. You shouldn’t be dropping everything just because this crazed man calls me,” I rush out. “I’ll be fine.”
“Ariana don’t be silly. I hire plenty of capable employees to oversee productions and meetings to keep me abreast. If they can’t do their jobs correctly, they’ll be fired. Now, your number, please,” he demands. His English accent sounds stronger when he’s upset.
I give him my number, and he hangs up.
“Ariana, would you like a cup of tea, dear?” Tina asks. Her voice alone could put a baby to sleep.
“Yes, please. Thank you,” I say, and my mind wonders back to the alarming phone call, hearing his words repeatedly in my head.
I flinch when Tina approaches me. “Here’s your tea dear.”
“Thank you.” I rub my face trying to avoid the tender bump. I decide to sit outside on the patio and turn my stereo on to decompress, lick my wounds like an injured animal.
I look around me and wonder if my grandfather is sitting next to me, telling me everything is going to be okay. My eyes begin to tear. I miss him so much. This terrace was his favorite place to relax. It always gave him a sense of peace and tranquility. I feel the same way.
I smile at the beautiful, autumn flowers as they entertain me while dancing with the breeze. The leaves on my cherry blossoms that were once green are now painted in multiple colors, and soon to fall, leaving the dainty branches bare for the winter.
This is my serenity, a vacation away from work, and now that may change, all because of my psychotic fan. I shudder thinking about this deranged man.
I take a few sips of the hot, soothing tea and pull out my iPhone to skim through the calendar. An ominous thought comes to mind. I stiffen, thinking about Michael’s comment. Could Michael be right and the psycho is watching my every move? An unsettling sensation courses through me.
Oh, no! What if he has a copy of my calendar or contacts or has tapped my phone. Oh, no, no, no, no! I can’t think about this anymore. Maybe that’s how he knew about my lunch with Michael. Damn him. I take another sip of my hot tea, holding it with two with shaky hands.
“Ariana.”
“Jesus.” I jump out of my chair almost dumping the tea Tina was kind enough to make me when Michael calls out my name. I turn, and he’s standing at the terrace entrance. His attire is a casual pair of black jeans, a pale yellow polo shirt that accents his incredible male perfection, and a leather jacket, giving him a naughty-boy look.
“God, Michael, can’t you give a girl some warning before you sneak up on her?” I cry out. “You go to your meetings dressed like a bad boy?” I blurt out. God, he’s breathtaking. My mouth starts to water, and my heart is skipping beats. Ahhh! This is crazy. I just received a disturbing phone call from the psychopath, and here I am fantasying about Michael. Pull it together, Ariana.
He chuckles. “I’m sorry, Ariana. My intentions were not to startle you.” He gives me a devilish smile. Smart-ass. “Most of the meetings today are conference calls. I just happened to be in the car when I called you. How are you doing this morning? Physically I mean.” He pulls the chair out and sits beside me.
“I’m doing well, better than I expected,” I reply, except for the knots in my stomach.
“I placed a call to Trent. He’s on his way over,” Michael mentions.
“Why?” I ask.
“I want him to set up your phone so he can trace where this demented fuck is calling you from.” He holds up his hands. “Please, excuse my language for all future slipups. I’ll guarantee you there will be more. On another note, Trent had the empty box of truffles and letter scanned for fingerprints. Unfortunately, nothing came up.” Michael brushes his fingers through his gorgeous black hair with annoyance.
I notice when Michael is a tad—putting it lightly—frustrated, he threads those long fingers of his through his thick, beautiful mane.
He slips his hand over mine, causing me to jolt from his warmth, and something else I can’t explain. He strokes my fingers and lifts them to his soft, full lips, which has my toes curling.
“May I?” He asks and a slow grin surfaces across his face.
I’m grounded to the chair, staring at his luscious mouth and smoldering eyes. I nod because that is all I’m capable of doing at the moment.
His soft lips press over my hand sending a current of electricity over my skin, leaving a ripple effect to travel up my arm and down to my core. A silent gasp escapes my mouth as I wither in my seat feeling the heat between my legs. His eyes hold mine in a steady gaze. I watch his pulse pumping against his neck. My heart begins to quicken, my breathing accelerating.
He moves closer, releasing my hand and skims his long fingers across my cheek, leaving a trail of tingling sensations over my sensitive skin. His lips are moist and parted, causing me to react and I lick mine with slow, smooth strokes. I slide towards him, grasping his solid shoulders. Our lips join with the softest embrace, and I close my eyes to savor the flavor of peppermint and his warm, moist mouth.
I wrap my arms around his neck, captivating him deeper into my mouth. We stand abruptly, the chairs screech loud against the slates. With urgency, we embrace with an uncontrollable need no words can describe. He has a tight hold of my waist with one hand, pressing my body firmly against his and the other wrapped around the nape of my neck.
We part for only a moment and gaze at one another, panting heavily, trying for a breath. I lose myself in his soft, green eyes, which leave me dazed and confused, falling fast and hard. I shake my head to clear the haze, but I am at a loss for words. Why is it that one kiss, one touch isn’t enough. I’m like a junkie hooked on Michael, needing to inject my veins to fill the undying craving my body longs for. I grow hungrier as the seconds pass by. I can
not shake the burning urge that’s coursing through me. It’s frightening.
I gasp as he pulls me hard into his arms; his lips merge into mine like peanut butter and chocolate, creating the ultimate treat. I feel his blazing heat and well-defined body scorching into mine, making me hot and elusive. I press myself closer, crawling my way into his flesh, feeling his arousal and linking our hearts as they beat as one. Moisture begins to pool between my legs, throbbing and aching to be touched.
We snap apart at the sound of a cough. It’s Tina. I flush embarrassed by my actions. I walk toward the railing of the terrace. I’m sweltering with passion, my lips still sizzling.
I’m mortified. This is so out of character for me. I’ve never lost self-control or ever been kissed with such rage. I behaved inappropriately. As I scowl at myself, my heart is fluttering with joy, vibrating and prickling with excitement. This is not good.
“Yes, Mrs. O’Conner?” Michael asks. He sounds so calm and composed, and I’m still unraveling myself.
“You mentioned earlier you were expecting your brother. I just wanted to inform you he’s on his way up.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Conner,” he says softly. Tina blushed and scurries back inside towards the library.
“Ariana,” he calls out. I can’t bear to face him. I busy myself looking down at the park and the pedestrians scurrying about like little ants. I place my hand over my gold and diamond heart-shaped locket that my parents’ gave me, a gift I wear almost every day and treasure. He touches my shoulder, causing me to wince from his sting.
With shame and guilt, I turn my head to him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. It was inappropriate. I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m mauling you,” I blurt out, desperately seeking amnesty, appalled for what I’ve done. He must think I’m easy, and I’m like this with all men. But, trust me, he’s the first one who has ever taken me off the tightrope. “I’ve never behaved like this before. Please believe me,” I beg, and I turn away from him.
He turns me around by the shoulders, and I feel his warmth seep through me, to the point I want to melt in his hands. He lifts my chin to face him and gazes at me with those bedroom eyes. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Ariana. We are two consenting adults. I don’t think any less of you,” he reassures me, his raw, seductive voice making me weak in the knees. He reveals his dangerous smile. His hands brush against my arms causing my heart to spin over to the edge with elation.
He leans over, so close that I can feel his warm breath. “I hope you’re not expecting an apology. I rather enjoyed the intimate kiss we shared.” His deep, raspy voice seeps through me. He brushes the pad of his thumb over my lower lip, causing my heart to malfunction.
“From the moment I set eyes on you, I wanted to kiss you,” he confesses, flashing a sexy grin. “You have to admit, Ariana . . . . There is a powerful chemistry between us,” he growls out. “The room ignites when we’re several feet away, hell, miles apart.” His lips graze over mine and swipes his tongue sensually across my mouth causing my breath to hitch and a tingling sensation to rush over me and then he releases me.
I’m stunned and disheartened like a child who lost her candy.
“Don’t look so disappointed, Ariana, I have every intention of kissing you again.” He strokes my cheek, heightening my senses.
“What if I say no?” I whisper.
He gives me a quick peck on the lips. “You won’t,” he says just inches away from my lips, sending chills down my spine, and walks away, leaving a powerful wake of heat.
Ugh! I can’t believe him, that overinflated pompous ass. I repeat his surety to myself. You won’t. Ha, what makes him think I will? And then reality sets in. Whom am I kidding? I know all too well I’ll give in to his wicked charm. I’ve never experienced such a force of nature to want someone so badly. How can I deal with this overpowering urge? Damn him. “Ahhh!” I scream out to myself. I need a shower, cold . . . frigid . . . water to cool the hormones.
I hear Trent and Michael walk out. I face the two men, and I’m sure I’m still flushed from his evil kiss.
Amazing how the air changes into a whirlwind of fire the moment Trent walks into a room. Just like Joanne, one of my best friends.
His navy blue pinstripe suit, tailored for his overpowering body, highlights his tall form. His multicolored textured tie stands out against his stark, bright white shirt.
I walk forward, extending a hand to Trent to shake his. “Trent, thank you so much for coming out on such short notice,” I express with sincerity.
“Darlin’, it’s my pleasure.” He picks me up and hugs me tight against his chest. I grunt from the tight hold around my rib cage.
“Trent you’re to rough,” Michael yells out, his eyes narrow.
“Relax, big brother, I won’t hurt her.” He puts me down, and I take a long awaited breath of air. “How are you doing today, Ariana?”
“Frighten and disturbed,” I respond.
“You can rest assure I’ll catch this deranged fuck, excuse the language.” He winks. His cat-like eyes squinting against the sun, with a boyish look to his face.
“I’m sorry to get you involved,” I say, and Michael glares at me.
“Ariana, please, we’ve gone over this before. Trent does this for a living,” He explains as he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns.
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt on my account.” I’m suffocating with guilt. This is insane. Michael and I have known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and now he and his brother Trent want to play the heroes without giving this a second thought.
“Don’t worry about us, darlin’, we’re capable of taking care of ourselves. Now, the first thing I need to do is set up your phone to trace all incoming calls. I’d like to go through your computer system and trace where his e-mails came from.”
“Can you do that? When I replied to his e-mail the first time, thinking it was from a fan, it came back undeliverable.”
“I can trace the IP address through his e-mail, as long as he isn’t computer savvy.” He winks, and a bright smile slowly surfaces, highlighting his distinctive features.
“You’re over-thinking, Ariana don’t worry your pretty little head over it. I can hack into any server,” Trent confirms.
“That isn’t what I’m concerned about,” I murmur, staring down at the slates on the terrace. I shiver as a cool breeze circles around me causing goose bumps to form over my exposed skin.
“Then what is?” Michael asks.
“Your welfare, your lives,” I spew out, my hands flying in the air as I pace across the terrace like a wild, angry animal.
“Ariana,” Trent says in a low, soothing tone. “I do this for a living. I have been in worst situations. I can handle this. Please let me help you.”
I pace a few more times, making myself dizzy, not just from pacing, but from the thoughts rolling around in my head with worry. I’m concerned for Trent and Michael, yet they are so persistent in helping me. I can’t call the police. This maniac is watching my every move and taunting me with his calls. What choices do I have? I need their help. They are a Godsend. I stop, and spin around to face Trent to give him my blessings, praying no harm comes to either of them. “Fine, I’ll get my laptop, but you have to promise me one thing,” I say feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders if something happens to them.
“You name it,” Trent offers.
“That you’re extra careful,” I beg.
“Of course,” Trent reply’s.
I nod and rush over to the home office I converted from one of the guestrooms, found on the other side of the elevators. I place my hand against the door to push it open and freeze.
“I’ve been waiting for you baby doll.”
I gasp as I hear his voice and laughter echo from the room. My eyes grow wide, and a painful tightness wraps around my chest. My knees buckle and I grab the doorknob to keep from falling. My heart sprints into my throat, choking t
he air from my windpipe. With speed, I step away, moving in reverse, and trip over my own two feet, falling on my butt. I cry out in pain and scurry up, stumbling again on the slippery, polished wood floor. When I finally gain control and stand up, I burst through the hall in heated urgency. I look back to see if he’s chasing after me, but there’s no sign of him. Maybe he detoured in the other direction, hoping to catch me or hide in my bedroom.
“Michael,” I choke out a scream. “Michael!”
I reach the foyer and see them both darting toward me. I’m breathless, panting erratically, feeling light-headed. My eyes fill with tears, blurring my vision. I trip and fall into Michael’s arms. Michael grabs a hold of my shoulders to steady me.
“What is it, Ariana?” He asks with a disconcerting look over his face, his body tense, and his chest is heaving rapidly.
“He’s . . . he’s . . . here, he’s in the room, I heard him,” I blurt out breathlessly, trembling uncontrollably.
“What!” Both Michael and Trent explode.
I pull him by the hand and rush towards the room. “Hurry,” I choke out. “He may not be in there now. He probably ran into another room.”
“I’ve been waiting for you baby doll.” I hear his dreadful voice again followed by more laughter. I can’t believe he’s still in there. I thought for sure he would have rushed out after he heard me scream for Michael. The man has guts, or he is just a pure mental case. What if he has a gun and the first person to burst in the room gets shot. Oh my God, No!
Michael and Trent’s eyes grow wide and they turn white as a ghost.
Trent pulls his gun out from his holster.
“No,” I plead, but he doesn’t listen and every pounding heartbeat only grows faster and harder against my chest.
He holds his gun with caution, aiming it in the direction of the sound as he enters the room. The tension begins to ease from Trent’s shoulders. He walks towards my file cabinet and picks up a black box. He pushes a button and the voice and laughter fades.
“It’s okay Ariana, it’s a motion activated voice recorder.” He blows out a long breath and runs his hand through his hair.
