Midnight Rose

by Shelby Reed

  “That’s right.” Kate gave a confident nod, completely at a loss as to when they left or under what circumstances.

  “He doesn’t like them anymore.” He eased himself up and turned on the bedside lamp, its golden glow flooding the left side of his face. “He used to really care about them. They were like his family, but now he never wants to see them again.”

  Sitting on the edge of his mattress, Kate studied him. “Did he tell you that?”

  “No. But he’s thinking it.”

  “How do you know?”

  He shrugged. “Same as I knew who was coming up the driveway last night.”

  Kate, who’d never believed one iota in the supernatural before stepping inside Sister Oaks, didn’t doubt him for a second. “Do you know why he doesn’t like them anymore?”

  “They’re bad people or something.”

  A waft of cool air drifted down the back of her shirt, raising the fine hairs on her neck. “Bad people, as in they break the law?”

  The answer darted behind his eyes, fleeting and frightening. Then it was gone, and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about them.”

  Kate was silent, fingering the velvety edge of the plaid comforter. Finally she glanced up at him. “So you can guess what people are thinking?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “All people, Jude?”

  “Most people.”

  She narrowed her gaze and waggled her fingers in front of his face. “Okay, mind-reader, what am I thinking right now?”

  “You think you might leave here. It’s too weird for you.”

  The somber declaration, so close to the truth, caught her up short. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “If you say so.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. Each time she thought about leaving, a hollow ache pierced her heart. It didn’t mean she couldn’t be scared away, though. Things were growing progressively stranger, and she felt vulnerable, as though she stood too close to a raging fire. When she closed her eyes, she saw hands reaching through the flames. Jude’s. Gideon’s. In her dreams at night, sometimes they grabbed her and pulled her in.

  She jerked herself from the vision and offered him a crooked smile. “Well, maybe I’ll give you a crystal ball for your birthday in a couple of weeks.” She stood and reached to straighten the coverlet across his midsection. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she brushed the hair from his forehead and took a closer look at his red-rimmed eyes. “You going to be okay?”

  He sighed. “I’m always okay. I’m going to live forever.”

  An awfully weary sentiment for such a young person, she thought. He seemed so melancholy today. So alone.

  Kate smiled at him. “I’m going to be around the house all day. I’ll play video games with you when you feel better.”

  “Okay.” He slid beneath the comforter and turned toward the wall.

  Outside in the hallway, she paused before Gideon’s bedroom doors and drew a steadying breath. Then she knocked. Firm, controlled. Take the bull by the horns.

  Quiet. Then both doors swung open and he stood there, solemn and clean, smelling of shampoo and soap and delicious aftershave. His hair was still damp, so black it reflected the light in iridescent shots of blue. “Hi. Come in.”

  Kate’s pulse tripled its beat. Beyond Gideon was his most personal space—a mirror-less personal space—and for the first time, she was stepping inside his private life.

  She had no idea what to expect, and no choice; her feet offered her none. They followed him over the threshold and took her to the middle of the room, where she stood in silence, staring. It wasn’t the massive, medieval chamber she’d somehow conjured in her fantasies. There was no heavy canopied bed ala Henry VIII. No velvet or tassels or fierce animal heads hanging on the walls. The furnishings were casual, plaids and stripes in varying shades of tan and ivory; similar to her own rooms in cheerfulness and comfort, but more masculine. The enticing scent of man tinged the air. Gideon’s scent. His bed was unmade, just like Jude’s usually was, the striped comforter wadded at the bottom, sheets in a twist. A lot of restless sleepers in this house, she mused.

  Stepping farther into the bedroom, Kate glanced around at the half-open closet doors, the running shoes kicked in the corner, the stack of jeans folded on the ottoman at the foot of a plaid club chair. “This isn’t at all what I imagined.”

  “I won’t even ask,” Gideon said dryly. He gestured toward a narrow door to the left. “Come into my office.”

  It was dark in the anteroom, quiet and small. Outside the French doors that led to a balcony, gathering clouds choked the morning sunlight. Kate lingered in the office doorway and watched while Gideon opened a drawer in the massive antique desk and withdrew a flat, white box tied with black ribbon.

  “Sit down,” he told her, nodding toward the wingback chairs in front of the desk. His face was grave, marked with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

  Hesitantly, she took the chair nearest the door and waited for him to seat himself opposite her. His fingers caressed the black grosgrain ribbon around the box before they tugged at an end and untied the bow. Then he gently lifted the lid, set it on the desk, and handed her the box.

  Her hair fell against her cheek as she peered down at the assortment of photographs inside. The same long-lashed, mesmerizing eyes gazed back from every image. Gideon’s wife. Jude’s mother. Seductive. Playful. Somber. Willowy and enchanting in every pose.

  “This is your wife,” Kate said, brows lowering. “Jude’s shown me photos of her before.”

  “Yes. But he doesn’t know about these.”

  They were too provocative, no doubt. The woman in the pictures was uninhibited, desirous. In one photo she was sleeping, a bare, pale arm flung above her head, sheets draped low across her breasts. Kate pictured Gideon kneeling by the edge of the bed with his camera, stealthy and breathless in his attempt to capture such a moment of exquisite perfection. The photograph’s existence spoke a bittersweet truth; he’d loved Caroline Renaud with wild abandon.

  “They’re lovely. She was lovely.” Glancing up at him, she tried to read the shadows that had crept across his features and found herself at a loss. “Why are you showing me these?”

  “Caroline wanted children.” He stared past Kate’s shoulder as though he didn’t see her. “And I wanted Caroline. She begged me to give her a child, and I would’ve done anything to keep her. So I promised, and I kept my promise.” His black gaze shifted back to hers. “Mrs. Shelton told you Caroline died because of complications from Jude’s birth?”

  “She hasn’t given me details,” Kate said quietly, fingertips brushing the face of the woman in the photos. “I’m sorry, Gideon.”

  “Caroline was, too. In the end, anyway. Sorry for marrying me, for ever meeting me in the first place. It would take hours to tell you why. It’s not the reason I brought you in here.”

  Her heart commenced a nervous, uneven dance. “Then what is it?”

  “I’m releasing you from your position as Jude’s tutor. I’m sorry, Kate. This arrangement isn’t going to work.”

  Without waiting for her shocked response, Gideon reached across the desk and retrieved a long envelope, which he extended from between steady fingers. “There’s two months severance pay here, enough to cover the inconvenience we’ve put you through. Martha will help you make all the necessary arrangements. A taxi will be here in the morning to see you to the airport or train station, however you wish to travel.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Heedless of the tears closing her throat, Kate stared at him. “Why are you talking to me like we’re strangers? For God’s sake, Gideon—did I do something wrong?”

  Fifty emotions flickered across his handsome face in the blink of an eye. “No, I did. I did something wrong. I don’t want another box filled with pictures and empty memories, Kate. I wish I could explain it to you. I know you don’t understand.”

  Anger washed through her, wicked and
sharp, cleansing her grief. “But I’m beginning to. You’ve yet to give me a solid explanation for why you fight this thing between us, but I’m starting to figure it out all by myself. I’m a lousy opponent, right? I’m not practiced enough in the games you play. You could have me if you want me, I never bothered to deny it or hide it. I guess that means I’m disqualified, huh? Game over?”

  Maybe he attempted a response, some consolation prize for her having stepped into the fire with such naïve hopefulness. She was too furious and hurt to listen. Jerking to her feet, she tossed the box of photographs on the desk and gave a silent kiss-off to Caroline Renaud. She was foolish to ever think she could compete with a ghost. And if Gideon thought she would let him see her cry, he was just as big a fool.

  Moving like a spark across a live wire, Kate sprinted from the office and across the expansive bedroom, leaving Gideon and his shadows far behind her. So when his palm unexpectedly darted out and slammed the door shut in front of her, she screeched and nearly thudded to the floor in sheer fright.

  “You—” She whirled to face him, found him incredibly close, his mouth an inch from hers. “How did you…damn it, Gideon! I don’t under—”

  “I know,” he said, fingers creeping through the hair at her cheek. “But understand this. If you don’t leave here, I’m going to love you.” His hand tightened in her hair. He was trembling. “Are you listening to me? I’m falling in love with you. It wasn’t supposed to happen again, not like this, not… I can’t have a relationship with you, Kate. I can’t give you what you need.”

  “Why not?” A rebellious tear escaped her iron control and slipped down her cheek, pooling against his thumb. “Because you did some things in your past that you regret? Because your son is sick and your wife died before you could resolve your marital problems? My God, Gideon, we all have burdens to carry. We all have pain. But if you shut out life, it abandons you!”

  “Kate—”

  “No, damn it! It’s my turn to talk! And since you’re not my employer anymore, I’m going to say what’s on my mind!” She drew a sobbing breath, no longer able to squelch her frustration. “You’re holed up here in this sad old house, you and Jude. Life slips right by you. It’s not fair to either of you, but most of all Jude suffers. He needs friends—he needs to know other kids out there with his same illness. Other kids, period. And he needs to see you happy, or he won’t know how to be. Maybe it’s too late. You’ve obviously forgotten.”

  “Until you came along.” Gideon stared down at her, his thumb whisking in agitated sweeps across her cheek, smearing the moisture of her tears, his own eyes suspiciously bright. “This is excruciating. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to see a woman cry.”

  His words gave her permission to let the tears roll unchecked. “I can’t help how I feel about you, and I’m not afraid of it. Tell me why you are, Gideon. I don’t know what’s happened in your life to make you afraid of this, but it’s in the past. The man standing here is every bit as deserving of love as I am.”

  He didn’t answer. His other hand cradled her face, palm cool against her heat-flushed cheek. The slightest pressure from his fingers at her jaw tilted her head, exposing the vulnerable place where her pulse throbbed a wild rhythm.

  “So,” he said softly. “You want to take me on. What makes you so sure, when you really don’t know me at all?”

  She couldn’t reply. No rational explanation existed. And suddenly, something was different. The air between them changed, the heaviness cleared away, shoved aside by tiny frissons of electricity. The desperation in his features smoothed into a mask of sheer intent, and Kate’s confidence wobbled.

  He’d never seemed dangerous before.

  “Ah, Kate,” he murmured, sultry gaze following his thumb as it swept down the column of her throat and pressed lightly against her pulse point. “Your lack of guile amazes me.”

  “Foolhardiness might be a better description.” A fresh wave of warmth suffused her limbs as her voice emerged, soft and a little unsteady. “And speaking of foolhardy, about last night…” She swiped at the moisture on her cheeks, drew a breath for composure. “Are you going to give me one of those Twilight Zone explanations, or will you just tell me straight out if we did something in my bed? Or yours? Or God knows where?”

  “What aroused your suspicions?” he asked, a smile lacing his words as he bent to nuzzle her neck.

  She shivered. “Well…the fact that I can’t find my underwear kind of tipped me off.”

  “Oh, yeah. Those.” His laughter rushed against her throat. “I’ll buy you some new ones. Silk.”

  She cupped his face in her hands, studied its fine, chiseled planes; the ivory perfection of his skin, the black, fathomless eyes staring back at her. “Did we make love, Gideon?”

  “No,” he said finally. “But I wanted to. We were so close.”

  “I was drunk and wanton, wasn’t I?”

  “Oh, yes,” he whispered. “You can’t imagine.”

  Desire stole her distress, her grief and anger from moments before. She nipped his chin, tasted the sharp line of his jaw, the softness of his earlobe. “And here I am again. Just as wanton as last night, maybe. Only this time, I know what I’m doing. I’m stone sober, and I ache for you, Gideon. Tell me you feel the same.”

  “God, yes.” His breathing came as erratically as hers now, this man who was never breathless, never riled or volatile or unrestrained.

  “Then show me.” She slid her arms around his neck, sought his gaze, needing reassurance. “Lose control with me.”

  “I already have.” His mouth captured hers, immediately ravenous and seductive.

  Kate melted inside, pleasure drizzling through her senses, sweet and warm. Oh, yes. If his kiss was any indication, he was as out of control as she.

  The roller coaster dipped, started its climb anew. Loftier this time, more dangerous than before, because the inevitable drop would shatter her. She didn’t care. Sinking her fingers into his thick hair, she let him press her against the door and opened her mouth beneath the slick urging of his tongue. His body was hard against hers, his hands sweeping down to caress her hips, her buttocks. The slightest applied pressure made her instantly aware of his desire through the thin material of his sweatpants, and she shuddered with a surge of excitement when he groaned into her mouth. There was power in eliciting such a sexual reaction from a man like Gideon. It filled her, swelled her heart, stole her breath with its precarious promise.

  When she felt the gentle tug of her shirt coming free from her shorts, followed by cool air against her skin, her lashes lifted. “What are you doing?”

  “Stepping off the edge of a cliff.” He urged her arms up and drew the buttoned shirt over her head, then freed her wrists and dropped the garment behind him. “God, let me look at you. Nothing more. Just let me pretend for a moment that you belong to me.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, something breathy and shameless, and found her reply drowned by a steady knock on the other side of the door.

  “Dad?”

  A look of infinite pain crossed Gideon’s face. “What do you need, Jude?”

  Pause. “A Slurpee from the convenience store?”

  Heart still racing, Kate watched the reluctant humor creep across his mouth.

  “Okay. Get back in bed and I’ll go in a minute.”

  “Why can’t you open the door?”

  Kate’s eyes widened and Gideon grimaced. “Because I’m just out of the shower,” he said, glancing down at her.

  “Okay.” Silence. “Tell Kate to come play Bloodbath Mansion with me when you guys are done in there.”

  When his footsteps faded away, Kate ignored the humiliation scalding her cheeks and raised her eyebrows at Gideon. “Do you want to go explain to him that I wasn’t in the shower with you, or shall I?”

  His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to her breasts pushing against the lacy cups of her bra. “Ah, hell.”

  She fought the powerful draw of his
desire as he stared at her. “Gideon? You or I?”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  They’d been so close, so painfully close to consummating the roiling ache between them. The retreat into limbo was like a splash of frigid water over the passion she’d felt mere seconds ago. Ducking under his arm, she retrieved her shirt from the floor, supremely aware of her breasts, still tight and aroused from the hot touch of his gaze. As she slipped the shirt over her head, she asked, “Am I still fired?”

  “If I told you it’s up to you, would you go?”

  She tugged down the hem, smoothed her hair. “Would you want me to?”

  He closed his eyes, let his forehead rest against the door. “That’s not the issue.”

  “Then I’ll stay.” She paused, caught his arm and forced him to face her, tears constricting her throat again. “And what about this thing between us? Are you still going to fight it?”

  His palm caressed her hair, her cheek, before it slid away. “As long as we both can bear it.”

  “And when we can’t anymore?”

  “Then you must go,” he said softly.

  * * * * *

  “Where’s Kate?” Jude asked, his gaze never straying from the television screen when Gideon entered the bedroom.

  “She went into town.”

  “Why?”

  “To get your Slurpee.” Gideon reached down and gently removed the game control from his son’s hand. “Can you spare a minute of your time?”

  Jude got to his feet and met his father’s eyes. God, he was tall. Jakome was right. The onset of manhood was sweeping through him, twisting him from a thirteen-year-old boy into a man in some mutated time warp. “If you came in here to tell me you and Kate are doing it, don’t bother. I don’t want to talk about sex with you or anyone. I know all I need to know.”

  Gideon swallowed the urge to smile. “I see. And where did you glean your wealth of knowledge?”

  Jude shrugged and moved past his father to rifle through the video games stacked on his highboy bureau. “I watch TV. I read stuff. You’ve got those books from India in the library with the pictures.”