Possessed

by Stacy-Deanne

  Candra stood at the window entranced by the grassy peaks and valleys that surrounded the compound.

  “All right, call me if you need to. Bye.” Jonathan set his cellphone on the desk and leaned back into the lavender lounge chair that awoke the luxurious décor of polished wood and fixtures of crystal and glass. “You have something on your mind?”

  “How can I not?” Candra gushed. “This place is a dream, Jonathan.” She unlatched the window and a mild, grassy breeze caressed her face. “I can’t believe I’m in the UK. I’ve never even been out of Maryland before.” She hugged herself, the fine silk of the Japanese Kimono electrifying her body. “Why did you choose me to come with you?”

  “Because I enjoy your company.” He typed on his computer with one hand. “You bring me peace and that’s what I need.”

  She glided her fingers over the stone fireplace. “What’s next in your plan?”

  He propped his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands. “For Deidra to be back where she belongs, we get married, and we all live happily ever after. This is what I’ve been working for all this time.” He approached her and took her hands, sending a jolt through her thighs. “To be here in my little kingdom with my family The Circle.”

  “And Deidra Quarter as your wife?”

  He kissed her hand. “Does that upset you?”

  She sighed. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but if Deidra makes you happy I’ll support you.”

  He smiled, pulling her into a hug. “You’re so unselfish.”

  She pressed her hands to his back, pushing him further into her. “I want to give my life to you, Jonathan. Please make me a part of The Circle.”

  He walked around the room filled with Victorian portraits and made his way back to her. “I need you to be sure.”

  “I’d die for you.” She touched his cheek. “I’d give anything for your happiness. Isn’t that what you want? Unrelenting love and passion?” She took his hand and laid it over her heart. “This is the happiest I’ve been.”

  “You expect more from me than I can give.”

  “I realize I have to share you and that’s okay. I want you any way I can get you. Please, let me in The Circle. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it’s the right decision.”

  He gave her a gentle kiss, and she shuddered afterwards. “It’s hard to resist you.”

  “Then don’t.” She gripped the side of his shirt. “I wanna be a part of you in every way.”

  “I can see it in your eyes.” He caressed her hair. “But, I’m not sure it’s the right time.” He abruptly let her go on his way to the desk. “Deidra is the important thing and I have to keep my mind focused.”

  She nodded, swallowing the pain of being rejected by him again. “You don’t find me attractive, do you? Because of my scars?”

  “I told you before that’s what I love about you. Your scars make you even more beautiful.”

  “Please.” Her nipples becoming tighter and fuller. “Make love to me.”

  “I can’t betray the women.”

  “You have to initiate me. What we feel for each other isn’t going away.” She drifted to him, his earthy scent rousing the nerves in her clit. “I dream of you coming into my bed, tearing my clothes off and us making love until I can’t take anymore.”

  “If I go back on my vows then what good am I? I’d be just like those heathens in the outside world. You don’t want that, do you?”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” She meandered back to the window.

  “I wanted you to come. I care about you, Candra.”

  She laid her head on the curtain, staring at nature. “Then show it.”

  ****

  “Whoa.” CeCe bumped into the gorgeous Detective Phelps on his way from the police station lounge. “Sorry.”

  “Just the man I wanted to see.” Her strawberry-red hair and dimples could make a blind man fall in love. “You got a minute?”

  “Um. Sure. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Her hefty breasts pressed against her snug blouse. “Do you know a Jessica Jacobs?”

  He almost dropped the burrito and chips. “Jessica Jacobs?”

  “Yeah. She’s been missing for about a week and uh, I’m on the case. She worked at the coffee shop across from your apartment building.”

  “No.” His palms broke out in a sweat. “Name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “She’s twenty-five, around five-seven and slim with long, curly brownish red hair. Beautiful girl. I got her picture at my desk if you want to see—”

  “No.” He squinted. “She doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “You’ve never eaten at the coffee shop?”

  “Here and there.” He shrugged, scratching behind his ear. “I didn’t notice this girl though. How do you know she’s missing?”

  “Her brother reported it when he hadn’t heard from her.”

  CeCe straightened the food in his grip. “You think she’s okay?”

  “It doesn’t look good.” Phelps twisted toward the doorway. “Usually when someone is missing this long, it’s a bad sign.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  That night, Connie squeezed through the ridiculous line that hung outside Barnes and Noble for Grayson’s book signing.

  Grayson sat at the table signing books for eager women who appeared to have more on their minds than his signature.

  Yet, Connie wasn’t jealous. Her heart pounded with pride when she passed the huge poster announcing the signing.

  She smiled, holding Grayson’s latest release to her bosom as women took cellphone pictures with her man knowing they’d never have him.

  Twenty minutes later, Connie got to the front of the line with two women gushing behind her.

  Grayson looked up, his striking face alive with surprise. “Well. Isn’t this a surprise?”

  “Is it?” Connie set her copy in front of him. “How could I not make it to the signing of the most famous mystery author in Baltimore?”

  He held the pen to his face, drawing attention to his hunky features and those I ‘wanna-make-love-to-you-now’ eyes. “Glad you made it.” He opened the hardback and scribbled inside the cover. “You said you’d be working. You tricked me.”

  “I have to keep you guessing so you don’t get bored, don’t I?”

  He handed her the book, smiling with his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Read it.”

  Arching her back, she peeked at the inscription.

  Are you wearing any underwear?

  She closed the book and wiggled her eyebrows. “I am.” She leaned over the table and whispered, “I don’t intend on having them on much longer.”

  Grayson’s face reddened, and he glanced at his female assistant who spoke with the store liaison. “Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered to Connie.

  “Oh, I don’t plan to.” She tucked the book under her arm and stood beside him behind the table. “There’s a lot of women here.”

  “Most of my fans are women.” Grayson had a short conversation with the two women who’d been behind Connie. They grinned from ear-to-ear as Grayson took a selfie with them.

  “Have a nice day, ladies,” Grayson told them after signing their books.

  The next woman stepped up in the line, smiling and blushing as the others did.

  “Must be nice getting all this attention.” Connie drummed her fingers against her book. “Didn’t realize you had so many groupies.”

  Grayson scribbled his signature in the woman’s book, thanked her and she left. “I can’t help I’m desirable, Connie. It helps me sell books.”

  “I bet.” She pinched his ear.

  “Ow.” He chuckled, taking the book from the skinny guy in the tie-dye jeans.

  “You inspired me to write.” The man beamed. “I always had ideas in my head but until you I didn’t know how to harness them.”

  “Take my card and if you haven’t checked my blog, please do.” Grayson handed him the card. “I post writing tips every M
onday.”

  “Will do.” The man put the card in the book Grayson signed. “Can we take a picture?”

  Grayson chuckled, standing. “Sure.”

  They squeezed their heads together while the man clicked a photo on his phone.

  “My dad will be so jealous,” the man said. “He’s a big fan of yours but couldn’t come because he’s in the hospital with lung cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Grayson sat, straightening his chair. “Tell him to mail me a copy of his favorite book and I’ll sign it and mail it back to him.”

  Connie smiled.

  “Thanks so much.” The man shook Grayson’s hand, holding the books to his chest. “Bless you, Mr. Paul and whatever happens don’t stop writing.”

  Grayson waved as the man left.

  “That was nice,” Connie said.

  “These people are my bread and butter.” Grayson greeted another woman and took her book to sign. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “As if my opinion of you couldn’t get any higher.” Connie stroked his shoulder, her arousal becoming harder to ignore until CeCe and his aunt Rosalie Kachel walked through the entrance. “I don’t believe this.”

  Grayson continued signing books, not noticing Connie’s sudden distress.

  Rosalie looked through her books while CeCe threw a shifty grin at Connie.

  Grayson glanced up. “You okay?”

  A vein beat deep in Connie’s neck. “That’s CeCe and his aunt.”

  Grayson looked in their direction while another groupie laid her book on the table. After Grayson got through with her, Rosalie and CeCe, wearing a black hoodie with the hat halfway on his head, moved to the front of the line.

  “Mr. Paul!” Rosalie snatched his hand. “It’s such an honor to meet you.” She slapped four books on the table. “I’ve read all your books. You’re my favorite writer in the entire world.”

  CeCe smirked at Connie.

  “Always glad to meet a loyal reader like you,” Grayson said to Rosalie. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Rosalie Kachel and this is my nephew CeCe.” She pulled him forward. “Say hi, CeCe.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Paul.” He took Grayson’s hand. “I love your work, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Grayson glanced at Connie as if seeking her approval for being nice to CeCe. “That’s very sweet of you. Did you bring a book to sign?”

  “Sorry.” CeCe’s eyes sparkled when he looked at Connie. “I only read ebooks.”

  “Ebooks.” Rosalie rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing like holding a book in your hand to gain a connection. To dive into the experience.”

  Grayson chuckled, signing one of Rosalie’s books.

  CeCe pushed his hands into his hoodie. “How are you, Connie?”

  “Fine,” she kept her tone neutral. “Ms. Kachel, how are you?”

  Rosalie curled her mouth, scoffing. “Nice to see you again, Detective.”

  “That doesn’t seem too genuine.” Grayson handed her the book back. “Is there an issue here?”

  “No.” Rosalie directed a flimsy smile at Grayson. “Just didn’t appreciate how your girlfriend tried to pin Prisha Banerjee’s murder on my nephew.”

  CeCe raised an eyebrow. “Aunt Rosalie.”

  She huffed. “Well, she did.”

  Connie shrugged. “I was just doing my job.”

  Rosalie grimaced, bobbing her head. “Uh-huh.”

  “Ladies.” Grayson flashed a lopsided grin and signed another of Rosalie’s books. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

  “I agree,” CeCe said. “Let’s leave the past in the past.” His mouth set in a hard line. “Right, Connie?”

  She put on a tortured smile, touching Grayson’s shoulder.

  “Here you go.” Grayson passed Rosalie the last book. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “I’ll cherish this always.” She held the books to her chest. “Are you working on a new book?”

  “Always working on something.” Grayson rested his arm on the back of his chair. “Just check out my website to keep up with what I’m working on.”

  “I will.” Rosalie opened the cover of the first book and read the inscription.

  “You’re an inspiration, Mr. Paul.” CeCe tapped the table, glancing at Connie. “I wanted to write mysteries because of you but never had the courage to do so.”

  “Let nothing stop you.” Grayson lifted his index finger. “You might be more talented than you realize.”

  “You think he’s right, Connie?” CeCe arched toward her. “Think I could be a mystery writer too? Bet you don’t think I’d be good as Mr. Paul, right?”

  “I don’t know about that, CeCe.” She stiffened. “Something tells me you have quite the imagination.”

  He formed a boisterous smile that ignited his whole face.

  “Excuse me,” the store liaison interrupted. “We have more people in line.” She pointed behind CeCe and Rosalie. “We have to keep it moving.”

  “So honored to meet you, Mr. Paul.” Rosalie blushed. “Have a nice evening.”

  Grayson gave that charismatic smile that made Connie melt. “You too.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Paul.” CeCe winked at Connie, straightening the hat of his hoodie. “See you at work, Connie.”

  He followed his aunt out the store.

  ****

  Jonathan stood on the front walkway of the Wales estate surrounded by soaring stone walls and imperial iron gates. “Really?” he asked into the cell phone. “Lydia’s going out of town?”

  “I heard Dee at work,” Lucian said. “She was telling Winston that Lydia would be gone about a week to visit her boyfriend Cam.”

  “Mm.” Jonathan’s nature rose thinking of possessing Lydia. “Find out everything you can about this trip and when she’s getting back.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Find a way. Once you do, call me.”

  “What’s going on, Jonathan?”

  “Just thought of the perfect way to get Deidra back.” He chuckled, caressing the 7ft statue of Venus de Milo. “And, it’s an even better idea than what I thought of before.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I don’t wanna talk.” Gage slammed Ursula against the wall of his poolside cabana the next day. “I wanna fuck.” He took her lips into a sloppy kiss, drowning her in saliva.

  “Gage!” She clawed at his naked, damp shoulders still wet from his morning swim. “I didn’t come over here for this.”

  “Bullshit. What happened, huh?” He restrained her in his resilient arms. “When Lang was alive you couldn’t get enough of me.” Water dribbled from his cheeks. “Now you’re playing hard to get?”

  “Listen.” She pushed as he kissed her neck. “I came to warn you.”

  “Just fuck me.” He kissed down her canary-yellow dress. “Save the other shit for later.”

  “I’m serious.” She shoved him off, her tall body landing on her feet. “Why do you have to be such a pussy hound all the time?”

  “Please.” He straightened his black swim trunks. “You want me just as much.”

  “We gotta get our stories straight.” She fluffed her hair off her shoulders. “The police are gonna find out we’ve been fucking sooner or later.”

  “Not if we play it cool.” He tilted his head, his tongue leaning out his mouth. “Now get over here.” He pointed at the wood panel floor. “Don’t make me chase you because I will.”

  “This isn’t a damn joke.” She jumped off the wall. “We could be implicated in Lang’s murder.”

  “You worry too much.” He sat on the bright green pad on the purple swing. “They won’t find out.”

  “Wilks will find out anything. She’s relentless. People talk and your servants know we’ve been fucking even if you pretend they don’t.”

  “They’ll keep their mouths shut if they wanna keep their jobs.” He widened his legs, hanging his arms between them. “Even if they found out about us
we can always deny it.”

  “That’s not good enough.” Ursula rubbed her cheek, looking at Gage’s rectangular pool through the window. “Wilks has always been suspicious of me ever since Boyce’s murder. Gage—”

  “Gage nothing.” He pushed his feet into the black shower shoes. “Don’t say my name unless you’re screaming it from passion.” He lowered his brow. “You don’t think I killed Lang do you?”

  “Gotta be honest. You’re not exactly acting like the grieving lover.”

  He stood, pulling up his shorts. “You’re not exactly acting like the grieving friend either.”

  “Why would I kill her?”

  He shrugged, looking away. “Why would I? Apparently the police think Hock Meadows did it so why are we even having this boring ass conversation when we could be making each other scream and moan?”

  “Just because he’s been charged it doesn’t mean he did it.”

  “Ursula.” Gage walked around the blue and orange, fish-shaped table, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to keep having this conversation every time we see each other. Either you believe I didn’t kill Lang or you don’t.”

  She backed toward the door, rolling her hips. “What if I don’t?”

  “Then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” He tried to decipher the bizarre expression on her lovely face. “Is that what you really want?”

  “I like you a lot, Gage. More than I thought I would when we started this. At first it was an attraction I couldn’t fight but you slowly made your way into my heart. I know you couldn’t hurt anyone...” Her voice trailed. “But, I get a feeling about Lang’s murder I can’t shake.”

  “Maybe you killed her and you’re casting doubt on me to save your ass.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “How could you say something like that?”

  “I don’t have to prove myself to you or anyone. If you truly believe I killed Lang then get the hell off my property and don’t come back.”

  She clutched her bosom. “You don’t mean that.”

  He tightened his jaws. “I’m sick of you questioning me.”