"Liz?"
"Yes?” she asked shakily.
"Did you hear what I said?"
She reached to wipe the tears that seemed to spring from a boundless fountain deep inside her. “Yes—"
"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"
Liz searched for words, came up with only more tears. What did she really feel for John? Was she only enthralled because of who he was? Did she know him well enough to love him, really? What did he want her to say? She took a deep breath, tried to form some kind of intelligent, or at least intelligible, reply. “I don't know what to say,” she whispered at last.
"I suppose that's fair enough, but at least tell me if there's any hope for a relationship between us."
She sighed into the phone, tried in vain to muffle the sob that was determined to escape from her mouth. “Oh, John—"
"You aren't crying, are you?"
"Why not?” she asked through sobs that wouldn't stop.
"Well, because I'm not there to hold you. It isn't fair—"
"You're the one who called to tell me this news instead of—coming—over here.” God, could he even understand her when she was blubbering this way? Why was she weeping so, anyway? Wasn't this what she wanted to hear him say?
"I'm a terrible coward. After last night, I wasn't sure you would even talk to me, let alone see me today."
"I guess I behaved badly last night. I was tired and let down because the party turned out to be such a disaster and then you just took off out of the blue. I'm sorry,” She managed to blurt out between the snorts and sobs.
"Oh, honey, I'm the one who is sorry. I should have thought of a more appropriate way to tell you what I was feeling, but it was like I suddenly ran into this brick wall head-on and it provoked quite a response in me. I just thought I needed to go soak my head and think for a while. I wasn't expecting this, you know."
"Neither was I."
"You're quite a woman, Liz Carr. Does this mean there is hope for us, even though I was a horse's ass last night and I'm leaving today?"
"I guess we both need some time apart to think. I've grown very fond of you as well; I just don't quite have a good enough grasp on what this feeling might be yet; but there is definitely something between us that we need to explore."
John sighed. “I'm certainly glad you said that. Does that mean maybe you're a little less angry with me now? I can't leave with you angry at me."
"What if I were still angry?” she asked at last managing to still the tears and speak in a normal tone.
"Well, then I would have to come over and kiss you until you changed your mind."
The thought of John rushing over to kiss her until she forgot about being angry was tempting, very tempting. She smiled and sighed, felt a surge of electric tingles through her body. “Is that a threat?"
"No, it's a promise, young lady. I'll be there in less than five minutes to prove it."
"No! John, I wasn't angry. I was hurt and confused. I was afraid you had seen Missy or one of the others and it had spooked you so much you wouldn't be back.” As much as she would like it, she wasn't ready for a kissing match with him. That would only confuse her more. No, she needed to finish setting things in order here at the manor first. She needed to make sure Missy and the others were put to rest once and for all and then—there would be time for John and her.
"I haven't seen Missy or really even thought of her much for a while now and that's the truth. I think I'm finally over her and I owe that to you."
"Well, then, go to Florida with Sondra and I'll see you when you get back. I'm not angry, I promise. How was your house when you got home?” she asked, trying to still the longing she suddenly felt to see him and hold him.
"Everything's fine here. You sure you're not angry? I'd love to come over there and kiss and make up."
"I'm sure you would. Go on to Florida and have a wonderful time."
"What's the matter? Afraid of a little of the old two-lip salve?"
Liz giggled.
"All right, if you're sure, but I don't think you know what you're missing,” he said.
He was right and that was the way it should be, she told herself. If she didn't know what she was missing, it was probably for the best. She considered telling him she and Kim had talked about going through the portal, but thought better of it. If she told him, he'd only try to dissuade her and more than ever, she was convinced it was the only way to free all the spirits who were bound together. She and Kim had to do it; she couldn't let John stop them.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, John. I am. If you were to come over here, neither of us would be able to think clearly and I'm convinced that would be a mistake. We both need some time apart,” she assured him—and herself.
"All right, then. I hate it when a woman is as logical as you, but you're right. I'll see you when I get back. I love you,” he whispered.
"Love you, too,” she said, then punched the button to end the call before he could persuade her he should really come over to say goodbye properly. Why did she tell him she loved him? It had simply escaped from her lips before she could stop herself from saying it, as though she had spoken the words to him a thousand times before. She rolled her eyes, pulled the covers over her head, turned the cell phone off. After that little slip he would probably come over in spite of her.
Let him come, she thought. Kim was still in her room and wouldn't hear the door and she had no intention of letting him in herself. No, she was going to go back to bed and finish the sleep she felt she had only started. She wasn't some teenager who didn't know how to control her emotions. She needed to go back to sleep and she intended to do precisely that. John could wait until he came back from Florida. After all, it had been his decision to leave and just now she thought it was a good choice.
* * * *
"What was that? Did I just hear you tell Liz you love her?” Sondra asked as she walked into John's kitchen.
John was staring at the phone, a look of surprise mixed with confusion on his face. He turned to face his daughter's raised brow stare. “Yes, I guess that's exactly what you heard,” he replied, eyes still wide in disbelief. He wasn't sure what surprised him more—his confession of love or hers. He had told women he loved them before; had even thought he meant it a couple of times, but never before had the words flowed from his mouth with such ease. Never before had he himself been so convinced; at least, not since he spoke the same words to Missy.
One thing he was certain about was that he should have waited to tell her until after he returned from his impromptu trip to Florida. What kind of stunt was it to tell a woman you loved her, over the phone no less, and then leave for two weeks? She must think him a total ass right now. He wished he had chosen a better time, or at least that he had been more eloquent. He had hurt her feelings last night and now he was leaving.
"Yoo-hoo! Dad! Where are you?” Sondra's words pierced through the veil of his private reverie as she waved her hand in front of his face.
"What?” he asked.
"I said—what did she say when you told her?"
"Huh? Oh! She said she loves me too.” He paused, letting the meaning of this last sentence sink in, then he smiled. It was only a small grin at first, but quickly developed into a full-fledged, ear-to-ear outbreak of happiness, though still mingled with surprise.
"And then?"
He shrugged, looked at the phone in his hand. “She hung up."
"Really? Imagine that! So do you?"
"Do I?"
"Do you love her, silly! What do you think I'm talking about? Actually, don't bother answering. I can tell by the silly grin on your face that you do,” she said with a chuckle.
"Oh, you can, can you?"
"Yeah, I can!” she affirmed.
"Well, Miss Smartie Pants, how did you learn so much?” he teased.
She smiled, kissed him on the cheek and stuck a slice of bread in the toaster. “I learned all about love at the movies, Dad. You know everyone
finds out about these things on the silver screen."
"Yeah, right. You know silver screen romance is like instant potatoes—cools off much too fast and doesn't taste nearly as good as the real thing,” he said. “Speaking of love, how is your young man these days?"
Sondra sighed, turned to face her father. “We broke up about a month ago."
"I'm sorry, honey, but I never did think he was right for you anyway."
"As usual, you were right. He just really seemed like the one though, you know?"
John nodded, “Yes, I know. What tipped you off?"
"Oh, let's see; I think it was when I came home early from my last shoot and found him with another woman."
"Ouch! The dirty little bastard! I ought to go give him a piece of my mind for doing that to my only daughter."
She laughed, “Don't bother; it wouldn't take. He has brain retention disorder. Everyone keeps trying to clue him in on stuff, but it always leaks right back out again. About the only things he can remember with any degree of success are his stomach and his whanger; not necessarily in that order."
He chuckled, “Oho! That's a low blow—pun intended. Are you about ready to leave? Sam will probably be here in a few minutes."
"Sure. I have everything rounded up and ready. I'll just eat this toast and then I'll be all set. I'm glad you're going with me, Dad, but I have to tell you I'm really surprised."
"I know. It kind of surprised me, too, but it has been such a long time since I've been able to hang out with you while you were shooting. I know we won't really be able to spend a lot of time together, but it will feel good just to be close to you for a couple of weeks."
Sondra shrugged as she buttered her toast. “I'm thrilled to have you come, but it seems like a strange thing, especially when you and Liz are starting to get serious and all."
"True, but I don't want her to think I'm pushing."
"Tut tut! Dad, at your age, I'd have thought you would have given up playing games."
"Is that what you think? I'm playing games?"
"What would you call it?"
"Well, I wasn't intending to play any games. I was going to go with you so I could think this thing out a little. Then there I was talking to her and she was really upset with me about last night and it just slipped out. Before I knew what I was doing, I had told her I love her,” he said with a shrug.
"But you told her now. Sounds like you got it thought out already. Why are you still going?"
"Because I love you, too. I want to be close to you for a few days and I already said I was going. Don't you want me to go?"
"Well, of course, I would love to have you go with me, but I have to wonder how Liz feels about it, that's all."
"Liz is a big girl. She'll handle it all right. I hear the chopper. Are you ready to leave?” John wished he could convince himself Liz would be all right. What had he been thinking when he so rashly announced his intention to leave for Florida? It had sounded all right when he came up with the idea, but now ... Hadn't they all agreed their combined efforts to keep the spirits at bay were the best idea for handling them? What if she needed him and he wasn't there? If something bad happened it would be his fault for not staying close enough; just like when he lost Missy. What a total fool he was!
"Yes, I'm ready. Let's go. This will be fun,” Sondra said as she put her saucer in the dishwasher and turned to see her father staring at his cell phone. “Dad? Having second thoughts?"
"No—yes—oh, hell, I don't know! Let's get on the chopper before I do something else I'll regret."
Sondra picked up her bag, shrugged. “You're the boss."
Chapter 30
Liz felt the bed move almost imperceptibly, heard the sound of breathing beside her. She tried to shake herself awake, but couldn't quite seem to open her eyes. She stretched, yawned, tried again only to find her lids too heavy to budge. She was so tired. You're getting too old to stay up all night like a teeny-bopper, she scolded herself. Maybe she had only dreamed someone or something had gotten on her bed, or maybe it was just Ghost coming to tell her good morning.
She reached out to scratch behind the little dog's ears, felt her hand engulfed instead by the grip of an unseen visitor. This time she was able to open her eyes. John smiled back at her, raised her hand to his lips, kissed her fingertips gently. “John! I thought you were going to Florida with Sondra."
"I was—er—I am! I just had to stop by to make sure you're all right before I go,” John whispered.
"Of course, I'm all right,” she assured him. She was still feeling strangely fuzzy. Why couldn't she focus on John's face? She blinked her eyes a few times but to little avail. Things were still more than a little foggy. “How did you get in?"
"Did you forget I have a key, darling?” He leaned down to kiss her on her lips.
For a moment she lost her train of thought. John was kissing her and she liked it. But wait a minute. Something wasn't right here, was it? She couldn't quite grasp what the problem was, but she knew something was not as it should be. “You let yourself in?” she asked as she managed to push him away from her face for a minute.
"Yes. Well, I didn't want to disturb Kimberly, did I? After all, she has been working really hard around here, has she not?” he asked before planting kisses all down her neck and starting for her shoulder.
It was hard for her to catch her breath. Liz wanted to ignore the red flag she kept seeing in her mind. Why was she always so cautious, anyway? She felt him exploring under her nightshirt only a moment before he found his mark and gave her breast a squeeze. She was utterly intoxicated, totally under his spell. She wanted him so much she could hardly contain herself and yet—something kept her from surrendering to the wanton passion she felt growing inside her. She needed to keep her wits about her.
She watched in amazement as John expertly liberated her from her sleep shirt, tossed it on the floor and pushed her back onto her pillow. He lowered his head to nibble her breasts and it felt absolutely exquisite, choked off her breath, made her gasp in excitement. He reached to tug at her underpants. She tried to stop him, but he stayed her hands, raised his head to gaze deeply into her eyes.
His eyes! She had never seen them look at her that way before; so piercing, so full of passion. She gave up on resisting him as his explorations accelerated. He pulled back to gaze on her form and she suddenly felt like a teenager, shivering under his scrutiny. A slow smile curled his lips; suddenly he was nude and coming at her before she could blink. Had she dozed? How did he do that? The feel of his skin against hers filled her with a longing she thought she had buried with her late husband, years ago.
"J-John—please—” she stammered.
He didn't speak, but devoured her lips with his mouth, wrapped her body in his arms, pushed her legs aside as he swiftly closed the distance between himself and total, ultimate union with her. She kissed him back and held onto him, all the while knowing she could not let this happen. This was not the way it was supposed to be. She couldn't let him take her this way, no matter how much she wanted him. She struggled against him, tried to find the strength to wrest him off her.
"No! Not like this, John. I-I can't—"she pleaded.
"Elizabeth, give yourself to me; you must!” he commanded.
"What?” she asked.
"Open to me. I must have you,” he ordered yet again before continuing his attack.
"You called me Elizabeth! You're not John. I will—not give any part of myself to you. Who are you? What are you doing here?” she sputtered. “Get off me!"
He laughed savagely, clung all the more tightly to her as he found the prize he sought. “I will have you,” he spat. “You see how close I am? Just a tiny thrust and you will be mine—forever!"
Dear God, no! This couldn't happen. How had this impostor gotten through her defenses? She groped for the garnet on her night stand, closed her eyes to call on its power, summoned for Benjamin, “Help me!"
Her assailant hissed and howled with laughte
r. “You are too late, Elizabeth. You are mine now!” Peals of laughter echoed in her ears as she felt him grind his hips against her. She held her breath in anticipation of the penetration that never came. He simply vanished, leaving her to clasp the covers over her naked body.
"Put your clothes on, lass,” Benjamin said simply as he turned his back to her.
Liz grabbed her night shirt and her underwear, donned them in short order before speaking. “Thank you for coming to my aid, Ben."
"Aye, you are welcome. Do you care to tell me how this scene came about?” he asked.
"You don't have to stand there with your back to me. I'm quite adequately covered now,” she said.
Benjamin turned to face her, eyed her gravely. “I am waiting,” he said.
"Will you sit down at least?” she asked.
He sat on the edge of her bed, his expression still somber. “Well?"
Liz was on the verge of tears. “It wasn't my fault, Ben, I swear it. I was sleeping and he was suddenly here, pretending to be John. He looked like John."
"Is your John in the habit of coming to visit you in your bed chambers, thus?"
"No, but—you don't understand. John called early this morning to say good bye and I was upset about last night. He hinted that he might come over to see me before he left and—"
"When did you realize this visitor was not John?"
"Not until he called me Elizabeth and by then—"
"Aye, by then it was almost too late. Did he hurt you? What did he say?"
Liz shivered with a new wave of realization of just how close she had come to succumbing to this new attack. “No, he didn't hurt me, he said he wanted me to give myself to him."
"What were his exact words?” he asked.
"Oh,” she said, embarrassed, “he said, 'open to me; I must have you ... ‘"
"Open to me, was it?"
Liz nodded, feeling like her father had just caught her necking on her first date with the town lecher. “Then he said, ‘I will have you ... you will be mine forever.’”
"Aye, it is as I thought; he wasn't talking about a mere tumble with you, was he?” Benjamin asked, a sudden twinkle in his eye that surprised her.
McCann's Manor Page 33
