The Man in Black: A Gothic Romance (Crookshollow Ghosts)

by Steffanie Holmes

  I picked up the letter and scanned it. “I haven’t seen it, I’m sorry. Could it have been stolen from Eric’s Devon property during that break-in?”

  “The police didn’t seem to think so, and neither do it. He had it with him when he left the show in London, and from what the police are saying, he never got back to Devon. And besides, I’ve got people watching all the auction houses and websites in the country, and Isolde hasn’t turned up. That instrument is probably worth a lot of money to the right buyer, especially so soon after Eric’s death.” Allan looked glum. “It makes me sick to think it might be lost. I’d feel like I failed him if the first thing that happens to the violin after he’s gone is it ending up in that hands of some nutjob collector.”

  “I’m not gone, you ungrateful shit,” Eric cut in from the corner. Both Allan and I continued talking as if he weren’t there.

  “I’m sorry. I’d like to help you, really I would. But I’m not really able to get involved in Eric’s affairs. I’m here looking after his mother’s estate. If I were you, I’d go back to Eric’s lawyer. As I understand it, the police are still investigating the break-in at Eric’s home, so his lawyer probably hasn’t even got to the stage of executing the will yet. It’s possible the violin will show up.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m just so sure it’s here. I feel as though Eric is speaking to me from beyond the grave, telling me where to find it.”

  “I am speaking you from beyond the grave,” said Eric. “And I’m telling you to fuck off.”

  His comment made me smirk. I tried to cover it with my hand. Thankfully, Allan was looking wistfully into the distance and didn’t seem to notice. “I really wish I could be more help.”

  “Are you sure you haven’t you seen it?”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen any violins in the house.”

  “Oh, well it’s a large house. Perhaps I can help you look?” He looked hopeful.

  “I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that. I haven’t been through all the estate details yet, so I don’t know which pieces of the estate belong to whom. It really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to allow you to just poke around.”

  “Oh, of course.” Allan looked so deflated, so sad, that I wished I could help him. My heart poured out to him. I’d been exactly where he was once before, mourning someone who’d been a profound influence on my life, unsure of what to cling to and how to proceed without them.

  “But if you came back later this week, I’ll have nearly finished my initial work, and I should’ve been in touch with Eric’s lawyer about his mother’s estate. Leave this letter with me, and I’ll ask him about the violin. I want Eric’s things to go to the people who’ll appreciate them most.”

  “Really?” Allan handed over the letter, his lips curling into a dazzling smile.

  “Of course. His songs meant so much to so many people.” My voice caught on the last word, and I could feel my cheeks redden as I remembered listening to the Ghost Symphony album over and over and over last night.

  “So you were a fan?” Allan leaned forward, his eyes boring into me. “I thought you said you hadn’t heard of Ghost Symphony before.”

  My neck flushed with heat too, as I recalled the way Eric’s music had made my whole body ache. “I’ve been listening to a little since I started working here. I really like the new album.”

  Behind me, I heard Eric’s sharp intake of breath. My neck grew hotter. I really wished I hadn’t said that.

  “It was the best work Eric’s ever done,” Allan said. “It was an honour to be part of it. I just can’t … believe … it’s the last—” he looked away again. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to believe that he’s gone.”

  I placed my hand on Allan’s shoulder. His skin felt warm to touch. His shoulders shuddered. Poor guy. It was strange to see someone who looked so tough being vulnerable. Eric’s death must have really got to him.

  “I’m sorry,” Allan said, burying his face in his hands. “We’ve barely even met, and here I am …”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it,” I said, smiling.

  “You’ve very kind.” Allan said. “You are the first hot lawyer I’ve ever met who is also kind.”

  Behind me, Eric snorted.

  “Maybe that’s what I’ll call my practice when I open up my own firm,” I said. “The Hot Kind Lawyers. I’m sure we’ll soon be the most in-demand firm in London.”

  Allan stood up. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I’ve dealt with lawyers myself, so I know how much it’s worth.”

  “Don't worry about it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  “You’ve been more than helpful. I’ll come by and see you later in the week,” he said. “That is … if you don’t mind. I would really love to find that violin.”

  “Um … sure. Of course I don’t mind. I’m sure Eric would have wanted you to have it.”

  “Not anymore,” said Eric from the corner.

  Allan beamed. “Thank you, Elinor. But there is one more thing before I go. I’d be a fool if I left before asking, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

  “Would I …” My heart thumped against my chest. He’s asking me out. Behind me, Eric made a strangled noise.

  “I’m in town for a few more days,” Allan said. “I could swing by tomorrow night, and take you to dinner. Do you like Greek food? Eric took me to this great place where we were here. If it’s still open, I bet you’d love it.”

  I opened my mouth to answer him, but no sound came out. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I was being asked out. This never happened to me. I hadn’t been on a date for more than eight months. And that last prospect had been a man from an online chatroom who turned out to have excellent Photoshop skills, because I’d never met a person who looked less like his profile picture. He was also a truck driver with the IQ of a walnut. There was not a second date.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever really had Greek food, but I’d love to.” I heard myself saying, before I could even stop to think about how crazy this was. I could feel Eric’s eyes boring into the back of my skull. I’m sorry, Eric. But this guy is cute and nice and interesting, and he’s alive. I could have a future with him. At the very least, I can have dinner with him.

  “OK, awesome!” Allan flashed me with a wide, toothy grin. I showed him to the door, and we exchanged phone numbers. Allan said he’d pick me up at 7pm tomorrow. I watched him walk back down the driveway, admiring the way his tight arse looked in his tight black jeans.

  I shut the door and walked back into the house, feeling as though I were floating. I have a date.

  My good mood came crashing down when I saw Eric standing in the centre of the living room, surrounded by the rose-covered furniture. He face looked as red as the garish flowers.

  “You’re going out with Allan!” he roared.

  “Yes.” I squared back my shoulders. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  The question stopped Eric short. He started to say something, but then stopped, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes blazing with fire.

  “Because,” he said defiantly. “Allan is notorious. He’s got no interest in you as a person. All he sees is a pair of tits and a chance to get his hands down your knickers. He played you like my violin, Elinor. Which, by the way, I do not recall leaving to him at all.”

  I jabbed my finger at the paper on the table. “I have a letter from your lawyer that suggests otherwise. And you know you’re having trouble remembering what happened before your death. What is with you, Eric? That’s a fine way to talk about your friend. You saw how upset he was. He is in mourning for you. I think he just wants someone to talk to.”

  “I don’t want you to go.” Eric was leaning so close to me that I could feel the energy surging between our bodies.

  “You have no right to request anything of me,” I shot back. “You don’t own me.”

  “Don’t go, Elinor. Please.” Eric switched to pleading, but I wasn’t buying it.
I folded my arms across my chest.

  “Try and stop me,” I shot back.

  Eric recoiled, as if he’d been slapped. His face crumpled with hurt.

  “I’m sorry, Eric—” I stepped forward, reaching out for him. I expected him to recoil away, but instead, he lunged at me, and pressed himself against my body.

  The heat rushed through me, and all thoughts of Allan flew from my mind. Eric pressed his mouth to mine, and the energy flowed through me, hotter than ever. I arched my back and pressed myself against him, falling into him. My lips opened into his, and I explored the heat with my tongue.

  Eric pushed back again. His body felt solid. He had a mass.

  What’s happening?

  Eric pulled away. We both stared down between us, at our two bodies, touching. “Whoa,” he breathed.

  “Yeah, whoa.” How was this possible? Eric was corporeal. He had a form. How had this happened? “We’re touching, Eric.”

  “I know.” A wide smile spread across his face. In all the days I’d known him, I don’t think he’d ever looked as handsome. “It’s the most incredible feeling. I don’t think anything in my entire life ever felt as good as this moment right here.”

  I held up my hand. Eric pressed his palm against mine. It didn’t feel quite like skin, it had an elasticity to it, as if it was made of rubber. But my palm rested against his, instead of falling through it. Eric knitted his fingers through mine, while the energy pulsed between our bodies.

  I started to say something, but Eric pressed his lips against mine again. They felt solid, too, but not moist. They had a kind of soft elasticity about them, as though I were kissing the skin of a bubble. It was strange, but not unpleasant. The heat emanating from Eric made the experience deliciously intense. I revelled in the sensation of actually touching him, running my hands all over his body, feeling my fingers tingle with fire as they grazed against his flesh.

  “Why is this happening?” I murmured against him.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” His lips sought mine with increasing urgency.

  “But shouldn’t we—”

  “I have wanted you from the moment you walked through that door.” Eric growled. “Don’t waste the opportunity we’ve been given with questions.”

  I started to protest, but Eric covered my mouth in kisses, and I lost myself again, giving over to the desire surging through me. We were pressed so close that the whole front of my body hummed with warmth. My heart pounded against my chest. I wrapped my hands around his neck, sinking my fingers into his thick, luscious curls, and pulled his face closer.

  Kissing Eric felt so good. It felt like the best thing I’d done in ages. His tongue against mine was like devouring the most delicious hot curry, all sweet and buttery. My whole body hummed with an ache I hadn’t felt in so long. I was wanted. I was desired. And I desired him back, more than I cared to admit. Even though my mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, my whole body screamed for him, and my body was winning.

  Fuck it, Devil’s Advocate Elinor said. For once in your life, do something because you want to, and damn the consequences.

  OK then, if you insist.

  Eric’s hands were everywhere, running over my shoulders, down my arms, entwined in my hair, pressing against the small of my back. I grabbed handfuls of his hair in my fingers, enjoying the way it felt so normal, so real. The heat of his body burned against my hands.

  Just as I was ready to make a move toward the couch, Eric pulled away, breathing hard.

  “What?” I panted, my lips moist. “What’s wrong?” The heat of him was a ghost against my skin. Did I do something wrong? Please don’t let him change his mind? I want this so bad ...

  “Take off your shirt,” Eric commanded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Please, Elinor. I can’t do it.” He held up his fingers, and I could see that they were still strange and rubbery. He couldn’t really grip anything, certainly not well enough to remove clothing.

  My heart pounded against my chest. I was standing on the precipice of something enormous. Did I really want to do this? I looked up into Eric’s blazing eyes, his intense expression, his muscled shoulders pulling against his black jacket. Yes. I knew it was a bad idea, that we were doomed for heartache, but in that moment, I needed him so bad I didn’t care.

  I took a deep breath, and grabbed the corners of my shirt. The fabric felt heavy in my hands, as if it was weighted down by something invisible. I pulled it up, over my head, and flung it on to the rose-covered couch. Eric sucked in a breath. He stepped forward again, his hands grazing my hips. His fingertips laid a trail of fire across my belly. I reached behind and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor. My breasts—grateful to be free of their shackles—bounced free.

  It had been so long since I’d been naked in front of someone, and I’d spent so much time feeling self-conscious about my weight, that I should have felt nervous. But Eric’s expression as he stared at me carried no malice or disgust, only an intense desire. It made me feel strong, and beautiful. Eric moved his hands from my hips over my stomach and across my naked breasts, his fingertips swirling the nipples. The heat pulsed inside me, becoming part of me.

  “You are so beautiful,” Eric whispered, as he bent in to kiss my neck.

  I whimpered as his lips touched my skin once more, sending an arc of fire through my body. Eric bent down further, and placed his mouth against my hard, round nipple. I gasped as his tongue wrapped around that sensitive bud. The sensation was so hard to explain, it wasn’t wet, but a sharp sucking, almost like a vacuum. With the heat of his mouth, the experience was intense. I moaned against him, digging my nails into his rubbery skin as he sucked. Heat radiated out from my breast, encasing my chest in fire.

  Eric pressed his hands into the small of my back, holding me closer while he sucked and licked at my nipple. First one, then the other. A ache flared between my legs, growing more and more urgent. I wanted him to move lower, but he seemed content to tease and tempt me.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his tongue flicking over my sensitive areolae. I moaned in reply.

  We stumbled backward across the rug. I felt my arse rest against the edge of the couch, and I lay back, pulling my body on to the cushions. I didn’t feel self-conscious at all as I lay down before him, revealing my whole body to him while he stared down at me with those smouldering rock star eyes. The look on his face said he was pleased with what he saw.

  Eric climbed on top of me, his body warm and pliant as he folded himself around me, smothering my mouth in kisses once more. I moaned as he ran his hands down my thighs, causing my skin to tingle. He kissed a trail of fire across my stomach, then nibbled a line up the inside of my thigh, first one, then the other. He touched me everywhere, expect where I burned for him most.

  I growled in frustration as the ache grew into an all-consuming throbbing. Eric laughed, low in his throat. He hovered above me for a few moments, staring down at me with that cat-ate-the-canary smirk that made him so deliciously irritating. Just as I was about to force his head down for him, he lowered himself down to my mound, and pressed his lips against me, letting the warmth of his mouth spread out across my skin. I gazed down at him and he stared right back, his eyes locked on mine, as he pressed his tongue against my swollen clit.

  The touch was a flame burning bright, and I was the candle that waited to burn. His tongue worked me like a machine, running over that special spot with a furious rhythm, as if I were another instrument he was attempting to master. All the while, he used his fingers to twist and squeeze my nipples.

  Eric’s black curls fell over his face as he licked my most intimate places. His tongue slid inside my folds, and he used my own wetness to make up for the saliva he couldn’t seem to produce. I arched my back, pushing myself closer, desperate for more of him. Eric responded by pulling away, lightening his touch so that only the tip of his tongue flicked across my clit.

  Oh, that is cruel. Eric
dug his fingers into my thighs, pushing me down into the bed. Now that I wasn’t moving, he attacked me with his tongue, swirling it around and around until the ache inside of me became another fire, burning hot and ready to consume me. Just as I thought I would explode, Eric pulled away, rising a few inches above me and grinning wickedly at me, his brown eyes blazing. The urge faded, and he bent down on me once more. I pounded my fists against the couch in frustration as once more he drove me to the edge, then pulled away before I could climax.

  Eric did this again and again, driving me to the edge of pleasure, then stopping, denying me the orgasm my body was so desperate to unleash.

  The fire inside me grew and grew, the flames tearing through my stomach and licking along my arms. It consumed my legs, my breasts, my torso. It burned so brightly that when Eric pulled back, it didn’t quench the flames.

  When the fire reached my brain, my world exploded. It was as if my body turned into a white hot ball of flames, rolling through a dark forest consuming everything in its path. I ceased to be a person. I was a ball of bright light, a being of pure energy. My ears rang with a strange, humming rhythm.

  Vaguely, in the distance, I heard someone screaming. A woman. Is that me? Am I screaming? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was the fire.

  My vision blurred, and slowly, the room came into focus once more. I sank into the cushions, waiting for the feeling to come back into my legs. Eric leaned over me, a giant, cocky grin on his face.

  “Whoa,” I murmured.

  “Careful,” he warned. “You’re going to give me a big head.”