by Lily White
I approached the table and sat down, silently looking at him when his expression turned to one of annoyance and concern. He looked up at me and I was transfixed by how handsome he was when he wore his glasses. It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome before slipping the thin frames on his face; it was just that the glasses made him look more approachable – normal – not like a man whose face belongs on the cover of a fashion magazine.
He looked up at me. “Could you do me a favor and check your phone?” The former authority in his voice was noticeably absent. He seemed troubled and I was suddenly anxious to find out what was bothering him.
Grabbing my phone from my purse, I hit the button on the side to turn it on. “What am I looking for?”
“Have you received any texts or phone calls?”
Glancing up at him, I bit my lip before replying, “No. Why?”
A look of relief came across his face and he replaced his phone in his pocket. “It’s nothing. I just received a message that was somewhat concerning. Does your friend, Mary Beth, normally get attached so quickly?”
It was an odd question coming from him and I wanted to see the message that she’d sent him.
“May I see the message? What did she say?”
He waved me off and grabbed the bill from the table. After opening the black case and placing some money inside, he stood up and placed the napkin that was in his lap on the table. He reached out to take my hand to help me to my feet. I accepted but looked up at him still concerned about what Mary Beth had said.
“Did she threaten to hurt herself or you? What’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath, he squeezed my hand and replied, “She was just hitting on me rather heavily. I would feel unfair to show the message to you because I’m sure she didn’t intend for it to be public.”
“So why did you want to know if she’d sent me something?”
He led me through the crowded room and out the door into the cool night air before finally turning to me to respond. “I wondered if she would text you as well, knowing that you were out with me. I didn’t know if she was angry with you and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t coming in the way of your friendship.
A humorless laugh escaped my lips before I asked, “Would that stop your pursuit of me if you were?”
His smile grew mischievous and he turned to fully look at me. Our bodies were close together beneath the awning as we waited for the valet to bring his car. The rain poured down like a curtain around us and I felt him watching me, studying me before finally giving me his answer.
“No. It wouldn’t stop me. It would just mean that I’d have to take a few more steps to ensure this can happen.”
His words set me on edge and I wondered what he meant, but I was distracted from the question in my mind by his next words, his confession.
“I’m enamored with you, Autumn, for no other reason but the fact that you are so closed off. You make yourself a mystery and that attracts and amuses me. I suspect you are the type that when opened up, shines with a brilliance rarely seen in other women. I get the feeling that even though you act cold, you are actually filled with intense emotion: fear, surprise, love, passion and sorrow. I want to know those emotions, to see them come to life.”
I laughed because what he’d said was insane. However, I was fascinated by his intuition. He’d brought those emotions out in me the night before by the strength of his words in his book, a fact he did not know. I’m unsure why I suddenly asked the next question that I did, but it slipped from my lips before I could catch it. “Which book is it that you want me to read tonight? Where is it?”
He grinned slyly. “My house actually. I hope you don’t mind having to stop by so that I can get it for you. We’ll only be there for a few minutes.”
My stomach rolled with nervousness and dread, but I pushed those feelings aside. I knew that Lucas has been attempting to frighten me or intimidate me at dinner and I refused to play into his game. The likelihood that he would do anything to hurt me was slim considering the date this evening was well-known to the community due to the ‘raffle’ he’d set up. I looked up at him and faked an expression of boredom. “It’s no problem. I won’t be going farther than the entryway. I wouldn’t want you to get the impression that I was there for anything more than the book.”
His smile was charming and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkle behind the thin wire rim of his glasses. “I wouldn’t expect anything more of you tonight. Quite frankly, if you offered anything beyond conversation, I would be severely disappointed.”
The valet pulled the car up beside us and Lucas exchanged his keys for the tip he paid the man. When Lucas opened my door for me, I hesitated to step in. He watched me for a few seconds before asking, “Did you prefer the back seat to the front? Why are you just standing there?”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “No. The front seat is just fine, thank you. I was just wondering why you would be disappointed if things went beyond conversation. I assumed you had a healthy thirst for more with a woman than to just talk.”
His eyes slowly traveled over my body before he indicated for me to step into the car. After I sat down in the seat, he leaned on the door looking down at me. The lights from the restaurant cast shadows over his features and all I could make out was his silhouette. The width of his shoulders was remarkable and the light that was able to pass by his large frame glinted off the lenses on his face. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable silence, he answered.
“I do have a healthy thirst – yes. In fact, I have such a strong drive towards women that I often get lost for hours inside a woman’s body; over her skin, her hair, her breasts, her stomach, her legs and her cunt. I take my time and nothing the woman says or does will speed me up or slow me down. However, when I mark a woman for nothing more than sex, very rarely do I take the time to engage them in conversation.”
As usual his response was confusing and I started to wonder if he tailored every answer he gave in order to distract from truth or from providing a reasonable explanation of his thoughts and intent.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
I wanted to smack away the grin that suddenly appeared on his face.
“You, Autumn, are quite perceptive.” Reaching down he lightly tapped the tip of my nose with his finger, before adding, “I like that about you.”
Without another word, he closed the door and walked smoothly around the front of the car to climb into the driver’s seat. We rode in silence during the twenty minutes it took to reach his house. Finally pulling up to the front gates, I wasn’t surprised to see that he’d purchased the old Carter mansion.
Reaching up, Lucas hit a button at the ceiling of his car and the gates slowly began to swing open revealing a long, tree-lined driveway. As he pulled through the opening between the gates, I marveled at how he’d had the grounds restored. It had been years since I’d been on the property and I noticed how the once weed-ridden lawns were now immaculately kept. From within the shadows, I could see that the trees had been trimmed back and different gardens had been created and defined with landscape lighting. It was magical pulling through and my breath was stolen from me without my having realized it. The only thing that broke me from my transfixed state was the light chuckle I heard emanating from Lucas’ chest.
“What’s so funny?”
He looked over at me quickly before returning his attention to the driveway. “You appeared lost for a moment. I take it you know what this place looked like prior to my purchasing it.”
I nodded my head and looked back out my window, still completely overtaken by how beautiful the property had become. “I always hated this place after hearing the rumors of what occurred here before I was born. It’s been abandoned for so long that I thought it would be impossible for it to be salvaged and I hoped someone would tear it down. I can’t imagine the amount of money it must have taken to restore it.”
I looked back over at him and noticed how shadow and light danced over t
he sharp edges of his cheeks as we drove. He nodded finally and didn’t speak again until we’d pulled up to the mansion that sat far back on the property. My breath was stolen again to see the Tudor style mansion, now brilliantly lit against the ink black of the night sky. It was foreboding, yet inviting, a small castle hidden away from the town.
“Despite its history, it’s beautiful and it took quite a lot of money and time to restore it fully. I actually purchased the lot over a year ago and had all the work completed prior to moving in.” He paused, seemingly thinking about something before finally adding, “Well, almost all of the work. I restored the basement myself. Nobody but me has stepped foot inside it.”
A laugh escaped my lips before I could contain it. “Are you trying to scare me again, Lucas? I know the silly stories the kids made up about what Mr. Carter used the basement for. I doubt they are entirely true. Are you trying to say you have a torture chamber tucked away beneath the house? I was once a teen who explored that house. There was no basement.”
He looked over at me and the look in his eyes was unsettling. When he finally smiled, I relaxed a bit. “Are you ready to go inside? It’ll only take a minute.”
I nodded and he stepped out of the car, moving quickly around the front to open my door and assist me to my feet. I had to admit his behavior and mannerisms were charming and I could see how any woman would fall for him easily. Walking up the large steps of the home, motion lights turned on which illuminated the expansive porch. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he unlocked the front door and swung it open, indicating for me to walk inside.
When I stepped in, I stopped suddenly in my tracks, completely overtaken by the interior. Lucas bumped into the back of me, reaching around to keep me from tumbling forward.
“A little warning would be nice when you plan to stop so quickly.” He laughed behind me and I could feel the heat of his breath across my skin, but I was so taken by what I saw that I ignored the way he continued to hold me.
The interior of the house was more than stunning. It was absolutely awe-inspiring. Two grand staircases wound up the sides of the entryway. A large iron chandelier hung down in the center, casting flickering light across the marble floors. Blood red rugs ran the expanse of the entryway that was lined with overstuffed chairs and bookcases filled with small statues and other ornaments. The light would flicker off the small bits of glass and gold. Along the tall cream walls were oil paintings depicting gothic scenes of men and women engaging in carnal acts. When I took hesitant steps forward, he finally released me, never moving as he watched me explore the first taste of the majesty and opulence of the home he’d obviously given much time and attention to in its restoration.
Finally, I turned to him to find that he was studying me again.
“Do you like it?”
I stared at him for a long while before finally shaking my head. “No. I’ve heard about the things that were done in this house. I’m not surprised at all that you took the time to restore it.”
A dark look came into his eyes when I answered him and he was quiet for a moment. The tension between us was thick and I started to feel uncomfortable when I realized we were very much alone – tucked away far from the town and anybody who could keep me safe from this mysterious and powerful man.
“I have a rule in this house that you will want to follow. It’s simple, but extremely important. Do not explore the third floor or the basement. Other than that, you are free to go where you want. Those floors, however, are for me alone.”
Instantly, I wondered what could be on those floors that he was attempting to hide, but I wouldn’t let my curiosity show. I nodded my head, remembering suddenly that I was here for a book and nothing more.
Looking up at him, I smiled. “It won’t be a problem. As I’ve said before, I won’t be going farther than the foyer.”
Lucas
I watched her for several seconds after she assured me she wouldn’t be stepping deeper inside the house. She was attempting to appear unaffected – emotionless - even though I knew she was anything but. Her pulse fluttered over her collar and her chest moved quickly with shallow and rapid breaths. I wanted nothing more than to force her into the shadowed corner of the room, down onto the padded bench where I could lift the material of her skirt above her knees and allow my hand to explore the smooth silk of her stockings over her shapely legs. I wanted to feel her breath over my skin and her hands in my hair, but I had to push those thoughts from my mind. It wasn’t yet time to begin this dance. I wanted her to know something more about me, something I’d hidden away in a book that many did not know I’d written.
Without responding, I turned to walk into the library set off to the side of the foyer. Opening the large wooden doors, I walked in quickly, moving to the right to select the book I intended for Autumn to read and turned to find her standing in the doorway, her eyes exploring the rows of shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. She moved inside slowly, spinning to take in the many tomes packed tightly together. As she moved, her hand brushed against the sliding ladder that ran along the circular room.
I chuckled softly at her obvious amazement with the space. “I thought you wouldn’t go past the foyer?”
She looked to me quickly, my voice breaking her from her admiration of the collection I’d amassed over the many years of my career.
“Have you read all of these?” Her voice was distant when she returned her attention to the titles lining the walls, a wide variety of classical literature, fiction and non-fiction, dark and light.
“Yes - or at least parts thereof. Sometimes I believe I research more than I actually write. When a character introduces themselves, I want to make sure I portray him or her accurately.”
Stepping forward I grabbed her hand and placed the book against her palm. Her eyes peeked up at me beneath the fall of her lashes before flicking down at the book I’d handed her. After reading the title and author name, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“I thought you wanted me to read one of your books.” The blue of her eyes finally found mine again and her mouth puckered before adding, “This isn’t one of yours.”
The corner of my lip curled with a grin when I answered, “Actually, it is. Sometimes I put books out under an assumed name. I have several pseudonyms actually, each one producing a book every couple of years.”
She shook her head slightly in disbelief. “Why? Your name is so well known. I don’t understand the point in releasing something that won’t gain the same attention as something written under your name.”
Taking her hand I led her from the library back out into the foyer. As we walked, I answered her.
“It’s actually quite simple. I’ve noticed that fans tend to follow a particular author quite loyally. I’ve often wondered if the rave reviews actually reflect the quality of a book over the popularity of the person who wrote it. Can I put out crap and still receive accolades and recognition if written under my own name, versus putting out a masterpiece under the name of an unknown person? It was an experiment at first, a passing thought that I decided to act upon to discover what is loved more – a book or its author.”
She laughed behind me as I opened the door and ushered us back out into the cool night. Rain had started to lightly fall and it glimmered against the lighting of the porch. “And what did you discover with your experiments?”
“The same thing you would expect. The book under my name received far more attention and I made a bundle off of it. The books written under an assumed name, although less popular, received honest and well thought out reviews, but received little attention. It’s a shame really.”
“So what does that prove?”
My eyes scanned the gardens stretching out beyond from the house as I considered her question. “It doesn’t really prove anything. If for nothing else, I wanted to know if the opinions I received were based on the quality of the book or if people would immediately assume it was good because I wrote it. The only thing it proved to me
is that, sometimes, I prefer to write as an unknown so that the opinions and reactions are regarding the book itself and not merely an opinion voiced to appease me.”
She appeared to want to question me further. When I pulled her out from under the protection of the awning, she remained silent. She kept her hand in mine as we walked the short distance to the car and I enjoyed the warmth of her skin against my own. I wondered what happened since the restaurant that had made her appear more comfortable in my presence. Shaking the thought, I opened her door and tucked her inside before moving around, climbing into the car and driving quickly to take her home.
The drive back to her house was pleasant, classical music wafting softly from the speakers of my car as we drove through the stormy night both trapped in our own heads. Her demeanor had seemed to change since leaving my house and I wanted to explore her thoughts as much as her body.
Breaking the silence, I finally asked, “Why do you seem so much more comfortable with me now when, only hours ago, you couldn’t wait to get away from me?”
Her head spun in my direction, her eyes held wide as she searched my face for the reason behind my question. I watched her in my peripheral vision, keeping my eyes trained on the road so that it appeared the question was nonchalant and intended more for idle chatter than it really was. In fact, every question I posed to Autumn was another way for me to discover her mind – the inner thoughts and emotions that drove a woman into seclusion inside herself. I knew that if she understood the meaning behind my inquiry, she’d refuse to answer. If I could make her believe it was nothing more than a mocking tease or a conversation started to break up the silent tension between us, she would engage with honesty in her response.
“I’m not,” She answered softly. “I’m just excited that this ‘date’ is over. Although I’m surprised that you didn’t attempt anything when we were inside your house.”
