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The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge

Page 12

by Kristi Avalon


  Despite her uncle’s suggestion, and no matter how tired she felt, she knew if she went to bed she wouldn’t fall asleep. Instead, she headed into the library. She lit the gas fireplace and it roared to life, spreading a warm glow through the room. She went to her father’s favorite chair and curled up in its massive leather embrace.

  The fire reflected something, a silver flash to her right. She glanced at the table beside her. There on the glossy surface, as if her father had just been sitting there and set it down, lay the worn hardcover volume of Poe’s poems and short stories. The silver engraved letters had caught the firelight.

  She picked it up, the aging cover smooth beneath her fingers. She opened the book the way she might pick up the phone to call an old friend.

  The pages opened directly to The Fall of the House of Usher . Trying to remember the story, she came up with images of a dilapidated home on the brink of ruin, amidst a boggy island landscape, and a man who barely escapes with his life after the house and its inhabitants deteriorate before his eyes.

  “Okay, on to something that doesn’t remind me of my life.” She flipped the pages.

  The next place she stopped, she read the title Nevermore . “There came a tap-tap-tapping as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door...” Quothe the Raven, “Nevermore.”

  Shadows in the room seemed to lengthen, darkening around her. She shut the book and set it on the table.

  Then it dawned on her. I thought I put the book on the shelf, when Carter and I found the secret room . A chill wracked her body. Suddenly she smelled the cherry-tobacco scent of pipe smoke.

  “Daddy?” Ellie bolted from the chair. Then she scoffed at herself. “Don’t be absurd.”

  While she may believe in the family curse, she didn’t believe in ghosts.

  Besides, the scent was too strong to be the wisp of a memory or a figment of her imagination. She heard a noise, shuffling, bottles clinking. It all came from the behind the bookshelf that led to the abandoned speakeasy.

  Could it be Carter?

  Maybe he’d come back. He might be taking stock of the remaining cases and barrels down below. Perhaps even using his architectural gifts to plan a refurbishment of the fascinating space. After all, no one knew about the cellar except herself, Carter, James and her uncle.

  “It has to be him.”

  She ventured closer to the secret door and saw a five-inch gap between the bookshelf and the wall. A tide of relief washed through her, hoping Carter had returned.

  Carefully descending the steps in the dark, she rounded the downward spiral staircase toward the large metal door. It stood wide open. Faint light glowed on the stone walls of the stairwell.

  “Hello,” she called out.

  The shuffling went still.

  Followed by silence.

  She ventured into the room. An old kerosene-fueled lantern rested on the bar, emitting dim light that cast thick shadows. One of the few cases she’d kept for clients had been moved and opened. Two empty bottles lay on the floor.

  “Is someone here?”

  A shadow leaped into her vision.

  “Oh!” It was Arnoff. “Geez, you startled me. I heard noises coming from down here.”

  “I heard about this cellar.” He slurred his words.

  “Arnoff, do you know what’s in those bottles?”

  “Rum. Good , rum.” He weaved as he walked toward her. “Like the color of your eyes. You’re a beautiful creature.”

  A smelly fingertip traced her face from her cheek to her chin. She nudged his hand away. He hiccupped.

  “That’s no ordinary rum.” She was irritated he’d helped himself, especially since this was the last of the stock. “It’s been aging for ninety years. It’s highly concentrated, probably two-hundred-proof by now. And it’s worth a fortune.”

  “So are you.” He swayed on his feet, standing between her and the door. “Name your price, my little seductress.”

  “There isn’t enough money in the world.” A wave of claustrophobia smacked her. Moving closer to the door, closer to him, she sniffed the air. “Were you smoking a pipe down here?”

  He shook his head. “Cigarillos. Want a taste?”

  “No, I don’t smoke.”

  “You can still have a taste. When I put my tongue in your mouth.”

  “Don’t you get it?” She fumed. “I’m not yours, I’ll never be yours. Neither will the hotel. Forget the bid—I want you to leave.”

  His eyes snapped with violence. “If I can’t have you and this hotel, then no one can.”

  Then he lunged for her. Ellie shrieked and dodged him. He caught her leg and they both crashed to the floor.

  Dust and grit settled in her mouth. She coughed and spat, kicking against Arnoff’s vice grip on her ankle. He dragged her toward him across the floor.

  “Let go!” She kicked furiously, but he must’ve tapped the inhuman strength that alcohol induces. Her legs scraped across the ground as he hauled her to him. “Stop it.” She kicked him harder. “Get off of me!”

  “Give me the hotel.”

  “No.” Screaming, kicking, fighting with all her might she dodged two of his attempts to grab her throat.

  “Help! Somebody help!”

  Then he knocked her head against the floor causing her to black out. When she came to, Arnoff had wrangled himself into position above her, choking the air from her lungs. “Are you with me or against me?” he demanded.

  Pooling every ounce of strength she reached for an empty bottle and bashed it upside his head.

  Arnoff pitched and rolled onto his side gripping his skull. He pulled his hands away and stared down at the blood coating his fingers. “I’m bleeding.” Then he threw her a glare that promised retaliation. “You bitch!”

  “At least I won’t be your bitch,” she spat. Tears spilled over her lashes. She kicked off her high heels and ran up the stone steps, away from her attacker.

  She smacked into Russert in the darkened main corridor. “Eleanor, what’s going on? Did I hear you scream?”

  “He attacked me,” she panted. She grabbed her uncle’s suit caot in her fists. “Please make him leave.”

  “Eleanor, calm down. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” He held her arms in a secure grasp, the closest thing to a hug Russert had ever given her. “I tried to find you to tell you Carter returned. You weren’t in your room and I looked for you everywhere. What happened to you?”

  Chin wobbling, she shook her head. “Arnoff, he—” She swallowed against her dry scratchy throat. “He tried to...”

  “Oh—no. No.” He cupped her cheeks gently. “I never suspected he was unstable.” She felt him stiffen with resolve. “I’ll call the police.”

  Ellie stopped him, believing Bill Marquell would love nothing more than to take Arnoff’s side against her. “Just make him go away. Please. If the police get involved, the auction won’t happen.”

  Russert nodded at her reasoning. “I’ll have words with the man. He can’t hurt a Montgomery and get away with it.”

  Although her uncle’s intentions were noble he was the same size as Arnoff in height and build. He’d be no match for the drunk, vicious man.

  Carter . He was the only person she trusted. She ran to his room.

  “Carter!” She pounded his door with her palm—her knuckles were too bruised to knock. “Please, open up. I need you,” she pleaded, leaning her forehead against the door, fear knotting her nerves, and tears streaming down her face. “I need you.”

  Chapter 10

  Carter turned the water off in his suite’s master bath. He swore he heard Ellie calling him. She’d used the words he’d been waiting to hear since he planned his return to the island.

  I need you .

  “Carter!” Slap, slap, slap on the door. “Are you here?”

  He sprinted to the entrance and opened it to find Ellie hugging her chest, her face dripping with mascara and tears.

  Concern knifed through him. “Ell
ie, what’s wrong?”

  “Please let me in.” She looked up with pure terror in her eyes. His protective instincts kicked in full force.

  “Yeah, of course.” He guided her inside.

  “Lock the door!”

  Taken back by her vehemence, he did as she asked. “Ellie, what’s going on?”

  When she came further into his room, his bedside lamp revealed her physical state. “Christ. What the hell happened to you?”

  “Arnoff.” Again, she turned a haunted gaze on him. “He...” Her chin trembled. Fresh tears coated her cheeks.

  “Okay. Shh, it’s okay.” He helped her to the bathroom. “Sit down, honey.” He pointed to the ledge of the bathtub, the only seat available other than the toilet. “I’m going to clean you up while you tell me what happened.”

  Man, he’d only been away for a day and a half. What could’ve gone wrong in such a short time?

  He brushed her tangled hair from her face. “Everything’s going to be all right, baby.”

  Taking her hands in his he felt them shake uncontrollably in his firm grasp. He scanned the dirt and scratches on her body with clinical precision. If he let himself register the injuries marring her flawless skin he’d fly into a rage and tear the place apart looking for the person responsible.

  That’s the last thing Ellie needed right now. “Sit tight, honey.” Opening the cupboards under the sink he found a first-aid kit and pulled it out. Grabbing a washcloth he dunked hydrogen peroxide on it and dabbed the angry red scratches on her neck and arms. “Talk to me,” he encouraged.

  She hissed when the liquid sizzled in the open wound on her chin.

  He said in soft tones, “I know it stings a little. It’ll hurt less if you talk while I do this.”

  “Arnoff, he...” The words caught in her throat. She took a quivering breath and started again. “I thought he was fine. Weird, awkward, but I never thought he was capable of violence.”

  Jaw clenched, Carter murmured, “Keep going.”

  “We had dinner last night. Went out on his yacht today. I learned what a sleazebag he is. You wouldn’t believe how he runs his casino operations, Carter. It’s disgusting.”

  If this is any indication . “What makes you say that?”

  “I was shocked.” She spread her palms. “The women who work in his casinos? He takes them off the street—literally. They’re hookers. He doesn’t make them pay anything to him and they think they’ve got it good. They trade his safety he provides in exchange for sexual favors.”

  His lip curled. “That’s revolting.”

  He rinsed the washcloth watching dirt and trickles of blood cloud the sink’s basin. She needed a shower as much as medical attention, but after seeing enough late-night episodes of CSI: Las Vegas on Spike TV , he wondered if they may need evidence of the assault.

  “Isn’t that horrible? I couldn’t believe it when he told me.”

  Carter could guess where this was going and it tore him to shreds. Getting a fresh washcloth, he drenched it with peroxide and held it against the wounds on her knees. “Ouch!”

  “I know,” he soothed, “but I want you safe and healthy, no infections. Okay? It’s almost over.”

  She breathed a sigh. The sentiment of trust that came with the sound squeezed his chest.

  “Keep talking, sweetheart. I need to know what happened. Every detail.” She was still shaking. He wanted her to tell him everything before her adrenaline diminished, taking with it her most acute memories.

  “I thought it was you.” She touched his face with tenderness that made his heart ache. “I was so happy you’d come back and I went down to the cellar to see you. But it wasn’t you.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” He focused on tending to her wounds, and not clutching her against his chest, promising that he’d keep her safe, that he’d protect her from the bastard—from everyone and everything that tried to hurt her.

  Ellie went on to relay the violent events. It took every ounce of strength not to leave her, not to hunt down Arnoff Applestone and rip his head off.

  After she finished, her face crumpled with tears. He wiped the wet trails from her cheeks. He clasped her cold hands between his and kissed her fingertips. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  “No!” Her eyes flashed wildly. “It’s just a few scratches and bruises. I’ll be okay.”

  “I want to make sure.”

  She shook her head. “I told Uncle Russert not to call the police.” She gulped. “If there’s an investigation here there’s no hope of an auction.”

  “Don’t worry about that right now. I’ve got it covered.”

  “But the hotel will be foreclosed on by five o’clock tomorrow. And I know the police chief. He’d use this and turn the attack against me. ” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

  He sank to his knees before her. “I know you’re scared, but we can do this. Together. You have to let the hospital do a rape kit.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “He didn’t...”

  “I have a hard time believing—”

  “He didn’t, he just roughed me up. I want the whole thing to go away.” She sniffed.

  “Okay. Okay, shh.” He tucked her head against his shoulder. Her tears seeped through the cotton of his shirt.

  No matter what wrongs Ellie or her family had committed against him, this moment broke his heart into pieces. No woman deserved to be struck, her trust in men pummeled—the way his mother’s had. Even more repulsive, he recognized a slight reflection of himself in Arnoff, the similarities staring him in the face. He’d bartered his protection in exchange for Ellie’s reliance on him, physically, emotionally and financially, for something as shallow as revenge.

  Carter shuddered. He had to make this up to her, to right his wrongs. “Are you positive he didn’t violate you in any way?”

  She shook her head against his neck, her forehead hot and damp. “I just want to feel safe again.”

  “I know, baby.” He stroked her hair. “I want to make you feel safe.”

  “Please,” she whispered, her face white with fear, “don’t let him find me. Make him go away.”

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

  She nodded, a gesture so full of trust and unconditional faith. Carter wouldn’t fail her.

  A few minutes after he laid her down, stroking her hair, he heard her breathe more deeply. He tried to move away from the bed.

  “No! Stay with me,” she pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Ever again , he vowed.

  “I’ll do what you want, I’ll stay here with you. I’ll take whatever demands you make. Just...please don’t leave.”

  “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

  “Promise?” she whispered, drifting into dreams.

  “You’re safe. Go to sleep, Ellie.”

  Holding her tight until exhaustion overcame her fear, Carter rose up to sitting. She grabbed for him and he stroked her cheeks. Soon her arms fell limp against the mattress.

  He gently traced her eyebrows, the beautiful outline of her face, her adorable nose, her incredible lips. He wondered how anyone could hurt such a fragile being. The notion provoked a violent streak that roared to life inside him, his own internal version of Mr. Hyde.

  When he was assured she’d stay asleep, he tucked the covers around her. Then he slid carefully out of the bed without disturbing her.

  “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he kissed her forehead. “There’s something I need to take care of before you wake up.”

  Carter slipped from his room making sure the door locked behind him. He stalked down the dark hallway. He’d felt the burning need for revenge before, but this uncontrollable urge for blood and retribution blasted through him like an inferno.

  As he moved through the hotel he didn’t notice the contrasts of ambient light and shadows. He
saw red through the film of pure hatred. His muscles rippled and seethed beneath his skin. The hot, pulsing need for vengeance scorched his veins.

  The secret room .

  How dare the bastard brutalize his beautiful Ellie in their room? Animalistic urges shot up his spine raising his hackles. Instincts alert, his shoulders expanded and his fingers flared. His body tensed, prepared for attack.

  Stalking through the library, he descended into the cellar. A pain-filled cry met his ears. He leaped down the last few steps and landed in the room. Just in time to see Ellie’s uncle soaring through the air and landing with a hard thump against the speakeasy bar. Russert held his jaw and moaned.

  Carter zeroed in on the source of Ellie’s fear. He pointed at Arnoff, his chest heaving. “You. Out. Now.

  “This is my hotel!” the man wailed, slurring his words.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Carter advanced.

  When Arnoff looked into Carter’s eyes, the man’s drunken rage melted into alarm. He lashed out, scratching Carter’s cheek with his fingernails, knocking him back a few paces. Carter recovered quickly.

  Reinforcing his strength, Carter widened his stance. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”

  “I’ll ruin you!” Arnoff threatened.

  Carter scoffed. “It’s been done.” Ellie’s father had tried that. “Can’t you come up with something more interesting?”

  “I know people.”

  “Yeah, and so do I.”

  “I’ll have a hit put out on you,” Arnoff vowed.

  “Been there done that, too.” Carter would find a way to get his money back from the gangsters Neville invested with. He’d dodged their retaliation this long. “Bring it.”

  “They’ll make you sleep with the fishes.”

  “I’ll make sure you sleep behind bars. For the rest of your life.” Carter had grown up with a guy on the island who’d become a cop in Atlantic City. Which would come in handy when called his buddy, Mac, and had Arnoff’s casino busted for prostitution. “Difference is, my people are on the right side of the law. You’re going down—for your prostitutes and for what you did to Ellie.”

 

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