Souls of Fire

by Vanessa Black

  Obviously trying hard not to laugh or look too smug, Aaron carefully controlled his expression and then said:

  “Yeah, I have my own bathroom.”

  “Wait ‘til you see the Jacuzzi in the corner,” he added after a moment, thereby completely countermanding his earlier attempt at not being smug.

  I unsuccessfully tried to hide my frown as I took the towel from him, got up very slowly, and started to gauge my ability to stand on my own. My knees no longer seemed to be made of jelly, and the room didn’t start spinning.

  Feeling I would be okay if I just took it slowly, I walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. Even if I had another fainting spell, I would rather lie on the cold tiles for hours than have Aaron find me naked on the bathroom floor.

  Completely ignoring the magnificent, gigantic Jacuzzi in the left back corner of the spacious bathroom ― now was not the time to indulge ― I walked to the right back corner, hung up my towel on the hook next to the shower, and stepped into the small rectangular space, closing the see-through door behind me.

  Turning the heat right up to the point where it was almost scalding hot, I left my worries behind, concentrating only on the heavenly feeling of the soothing hot water running down my maltreated body in comforting waves.

  Careful to turn the temperature back down after a couple of minutes, so that I wouldn’t get dizzy from the heat, I proceeded to wash all of the grime away, shampooing my hair twice, and cursing under my breath when I realized that there was no conditioner to be found.

  Of course, I realized most men probably seldom used a conditioner; that didn’t really make me feel any better about having none, though.

  Getting my wet, long, thick, and incredibly tangled hair brushed, would turn out to be a nightmare now!

  Maybe I ought to just cut it, and save myself the trouble and frustration, I thought grumpily. I was in a bit of a bad mood with everything that was happening of late.

  Having finished my shower, I opened the shower door ― shivering slightly in the much cooler air of the room ― grabbed my towel from the hook, and retreated swiftly to my haven of hot steam. After I dried myself off and dabbed at my wet hair with my towel, I stepped from the shower, realizing only now ― now that I needed it ― that I had no fresh change of clothes.

  Slinging the towel around my naked body, letting it overlap in front, and tucking the corner of it under the rim of the towel above my left breast, I took the drier from a shelf next to the mirror above the sink. Plugging it in the socket, I started to clear away the haze that clung to the mirror.

  After carefully evaluating my image, trying to find out if I looked decent enough to be seen by Aaron with only a towel covering my otherwise naked body, I was eventually satisfied that my most private parts were all hidden from view. After all, it wasn’t necessary to open the door all the way in order to talk to him; I would just have a small part of me showing and keep the rest of my body out of view behind the door.

  Opening the door to the main room, I slowly sidled to the left, cautiously peering around the door, the left half of my carefully covered body the only part in plain view.

  I nearly jumped when I found myself face to face with a completely bewildered Aaron, who had seemingly chosen that precise moment to knock on the door and ask me if I had everything I needed.

  Though it was more than apparent that I indeed did not have everything I needed, I decided to state the obvious, if only to make him snap out of his motionless state: for he was standing opposite me, his body frozen in place. He was gazing at my half-naked, damp-haired appearance, his eyes glued to a spot on the left side of my chest.

  “Um,” I muttered uncertainly, feeling very self-conscious being scrutinized so openly by this most gorgeous of men, and already wondering if he could detect all the little imperfections I myself was constantly aware of.

  My cheeks growing hotter by the minute, I managed to let him know I would need some clothes, before swiftly retreating and closing the door on his now equally embarrassed countenance.

  After about ten minutes, during which I started to tackle my tangled mass of wet hair with Aaron’s comb, which was the only even remotely suited object for the task ― no hairbrush! ― a quiet, tentative knocking interrupted my strenuous efforts.

  Quickly checking that my towel was still slung correctly ― and securely ― around my body, I walked to the door and opened it only enough to peek through it, my neck craning around the door while the rest of my body remained fully hidden behind it.

  By the expression on his face, it was apparent that Aaron was well aware of having behaved improperly earlier, staring at me in such a rude manner ― and just as aware of the fact that I had now completely hidden my body behind the door, escaping his gaze.

  “Ah … I went through my drawers, and I picked out … these for you. I hope they fit … well enough,” he said uncomfortably, holding a bundle of clothing out to me, not mentioning his behavior in any way nor apologizing for being rude.

  Maybe he’s too embarrassed to mention it, I thought to myself, not feeling sorry at all that he hadn’t brought up the subject; I didn’t want it mentioned either!

  Taking the bundle of clothes, I mumbled my appreciation ― though secretly thinking I would probably look dreadful in them ― and closed and relocked the door. Setting the bundle on top of the seat cushion of a combination bench laundry chest that sat against the wall between the Jacuzzi and the large sink, I started sifting through the pieces, searching for underwear of any kind, and hoping fervently that he hadn’t brought me boxer shorts.

  When I recognized the unmistakable black lace of sexy underwear peeking out from under the pile, I dug through the clothing with a sinking feeling, finally holding out the black bra and slip in front of me. They were even my size! Well not a hundred percent, but they would fit well enough.

  It was a very sexy pair of underwear, sexy yet tasteful. Whoever it belonged to ― for it certainly wasn’t mine ― not only had a lot of taste, but apparently also a lot of money.

  My heart sank lower with every second I stared at the undergarments. The sexy bra and slip could only mean one of two things: either Aaron had a girlfriend, fiancé, or wife ― which I seriously doubted due to the distinct impression I got of him not being the steadfast type ― or he had an easy affair … or more than one affair!

  Most definitely, with the sexy kind; the kind of woman who always looked gorgeous, never wore the wrong shoes to match her outfit, always knew exactly what to say to wrap any man around her little finger, and was incredible in the sack.

  All of which I was not. At least, I didn’t think I was. I felt awkward most of the time, never knew what to say, and my outfit would probably be the first to be openly criticized by society experts or journalists if I ever found myself on the red carpet.

  Which, granted, would never be the case, I thought cynically.

  Not to mention that I had absolutely no experience with men. I had never been with one before, in the biblical sense, or in any sense for that matter. I felt anguished and small. And incredibly foolish!

  Sure, I had probably hidden my true feelings from him very well, to the point that I had fooled him into believing my indifference toward him. And I would have done anything to fool myself! For nothing could feel worse than wanting so badly to be with someone who would rather be with anyone else!

  But I couldn’t fool myself. It was the one thing I was completely unable to do!

  And even though I hadn’t let him see how much I yearned for him ― for which I was profoundly grateful at the moment ― I felt embarrassed for feeling this way about a man who didn’t feel the same way about me and would never deem me sexy enough to really tempt him.

  It was true that he had wanted me; we had kissed, after all. And he had carried me to his room that first night when I had been unconscious, obviously intending to deepen our connection after I came to.

  But to me that didn’t mean that he was really
interested in me, it only meant that he was a male, driven by hormones and unable to control his … urges … and I had been conveniently present. For me, that was all there was to it. Given the choice among many women, he would never choose me!

  I would have given anything to be able to erase the last hour. Before I had awoken in his bed, I had only felt an incredibly strong physical attraction toward him. Then, things had suddenly begun to get complicated.

  After our little ‘misunderstanding’ I had seen a side to him I hadn’t expected to see … a vulnerable side. Feelings he hadn’t meant for me to see … hidden behind a careful façade that had started to crumble, revealing what had presumably been buried a long time ago … forbidden to surface.

  It was that forbidden side to him which held the most allure for me. Suddenly, I wanted more than anything to see more of his true self, to get to the bottom of the mystery he presented to me.

  The small glimpse of true emotions that had seeped through the façade had started to reveal the person behind all the cruelty, disrespect and inconsiderate behavior; it had started to make me feel … something … for him.

  When he had acted indifferent about never having been loved by his parents, the hurt I had nonetheless been able to see behind his eyes had made me want to hold and soothe him.

  Finally, I was able to understand his behavior; though still inappropriate, and certainly inexcusable, I could understand how he could have turned out this way, never having felt loved or appreciated by his parents. My heart had reached out to his, had ached for him; but I hadn’t dared show it!

  Now, the overwhelming physical attraction I felt was the least of my problems. I could have dealt with that kind of insanity. The complicated and confusing emotional state I found myself in now, however, had me reeling.

  I was about to fall for a man who thought of me only as an unexciting, non-tempting, immature girl who rushed to dim-witted conclusions, was hysterical, stubborn and threw tantrums. A girl who had to resort to slapping him across the face instead of giving him a superior, contemptuous talking-to and walking unmoved and leisurely from the room, head held high!

  Yep, that about sums it up, I thought, my heart sinking again at the thought of not being his type at all, and having no chance in hell to make him feel for me.

  Finally pulled out of my deep contemplation by the fact that my still partially naked body had started to shake from the cold, I hurriedly unwrapped the towel, hung it back on the hook next to the shower, and started to put on the clothing he had handed me.

  Standing in front of the mirror twenty minutes later, my hair dry, and my body now concealed by a pair of men’s blue jeans and a white shirt, I considered my reflection.

  The jeans fit pretty well considering they weren’t made for women, and I had tucked the shirt into the hem of the jeans, the topmost buttons left casually open so that I looked more feminine in the masculine shirt; all things considered, I looked tolerably pretty.

  Even as the thought occurred, I recalled the sexy underwear and the women Aaron must be accustomed to seeing. Disgusted at myself for even entertaining the idea that he could think I looked pretty, I threw my reflection a hard look and whispered “Fool”, turning quickly away from the devastated expression on my mirror image’s face and heading for the door, a hard mask slamming down over my features to bury my emotions.

  Aaron’s head shot up the moment the bathroom door opened. He had felt off-balance and on-edge for the last hour. It had been the most confusing hour he had spent in a very long time; starting with her accusation that he had intended to rape her!

  Had anyone told him beforehand that such an accusation would accomplish more than make him burst out in laughter, its being so ludicrously unfeasible, he would have told them they were nuts.

  Now, he could find nothing hilarious about the situation! With only a few words, she had managed to wound him.

  He had been deeply hurt by her accusation, by what she thought of him, thought him capable of. Even worse, he thought it had shown. Though he had quickly turned his back on her, there was no denying that his stance must have given away his raw emotional state.

  For years, he hadn’t let any woman catch even the tiniest glimpse of emotion. He had kept almost everybody carefully out, never opening up. There had never been a woman to open up to anyway!

  From a very young age on ― in a very messed up way ― he had known the feeling of having one’s heart ripped out.

  Today, he had not only let her see right through him, he had even opened up more than he ever had before, just mentioning his parents at all ― he never ever mentioned his parents!

  Something was definitely messed up about her. If he hadn’t already dismissed the idea of her being a ‘witch’ ― and if he could make himself believe in witchcraft or the like ― he would have believed her to be one after what had happened tonight, for she must have bewitched him!

  Nobody had ever gotten him to open up and talk about anything that really mattered to him. Now, he had just grazed the issue he felt most strongly about with a stranger.

  He felt as if he was caught in a trap she had laid out for him; and which he couldn’t escape if he tried.

  As yet, he hadn’t attempted to make a run for it. There was something about her and the way she affected him that he needed to understand.

  It started with the way she made him feel. That intense burning desire he felt for her just couldn’t be for real! And the bond he felt between them, the bond that had led him to her and had saved her life; it was something completely out of the ordinary, something that couldn’t be explained away by any sane line of reasoning.

  And why, he wondered, should he feel hurt or betrayed by her because of what she thought about him! He couldn’t care less about what other people thought about him!

  Then, of course, there was the matter of the strange dream.

  Totally inexplicable!

  Not only had he dreamt about her desperately needing his help, he had also seen the same tattoo on the left side of her chest that he had just seen a couple of minutes ago, when she had stood in the doorway half-naked. He hadn’t dreamt it up, it really existed. He had known it was there before he had actually seen it!

  This time he had seen clearly that it was a rose. After all, he had stood there like an idiot, staring at it without realizing how rude he was being and what she must think he was staring at instead.

  There had to be some kind of explanation to what was going on. Her behavior was another thing he couldn’t understand: what kind of girl starved herself nearly to death? She had looked as if she hadn’t eaten or taken fluids for days when he had found her. And it couldn’t have been normal for her to just faint like that when they had kissed under the oak the other day.

  He couldn’t be sure if it had been real or if he had been imagining it at the time, but he thought he remembered that something had struck her and that her body had been kind of glowing afterward.

  None of it made any sense! The only person who could possibly make sense of any of it was Adam Wright. If anyone could find out what was going on, it was him!

  Looking at Persephone standing in the frame of the bathroom door, dressed in his jeans and shirt, Aaron felt a strange kind of pleasure in the fact that she was wearing his clothing. Another thing that was messed up, Aaron thought, sighing internally. Why he should feel any pleasure in it, was beyond him!

  Even as he scrutinized her from head to foot, thinking she still managed to look beautiful in men’s clothing, he felt taken aback as his gaze finally reached her face.

  In the short time since meeting her, her face had always been alive with emotions. Of course, he was certain she hadn’t let on to everything she had been feeling, but he had been able to tell at least her basic mood by looking at her facial expressions.

  Now her usually animated features showed absolutely nothing! She was hiding behind a mask; hiding emotions she didn’t want him to see.

  Generally, the only reason fo
r not letting another person see one’s emotions, Aaron pondered, was that they referred to the person they were being kept from.

  Trying hard to understand what he had done to upset her so much that she had shut down emotionally and hidden her true feelings behind a mask, Aaron slowly got up from the corner of the bed where he had been perched while waiting for her and approached her. When he reached her, he was about to ask her outright what he had done to upset her, when she held her right hand up and said,

  “I don’t want to talk about it”, thus stopping him in his tracks.

  “Okay,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, “let’s get this over with. Let’s talk. Then, each of us can get on with our lives, after we go and see this professor, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Aaron said, staggered by her suddenly cold behavior.

  Attempting to seem just as unemotional as she had, he turned around without another word and led the way into the small kitchen. It had just enough space for a small table with two chairs to sit opposite the kitchen block in the right back corner of the room.

  Motioning for Persephone to take a seat, Aaron busied himself making coffee.

  “Do you take milk or sugar?” he asked her in a polite but businesslike tone after five minutes of silence, both of them not having wanted to discuss a thing without the comfort of steaming hot coffee.

  “I’d like my coffee with lots of milk, please. No sugar,” Persephone answered just as politely; too politely, in fact. It was starting to annoy him!

  “Let’s cut the crap,” Aaron said, no longer able to take her pokerfaced, excessively polite manner.

  “You don’t need to tell me squat!” he continued. “Just quit being so damn polite, alright? Do you think you could manage that?”

  “Fine,” Persephone snapped, seemingly overdoing it a bit in order to show him just how impolite she could be!

  Aaron tried not to smile at this and at the way her brows drew together in irritation. He didn’t quite manage, though, and he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw her lips twitch faintly in response.