How You Tempt Me (7 page)

I blink the tears from my eyes. “What the hell
just happened...? How did...?” I suddenly realize that the
clamps are no longer around my wrists and ankles and I jerk my arms
down and hug my knees, curling into a ball. I start to shiver
uncontrollably as the walls of the sphere lower into the metal
circumference around the operating table. Julian steps over the
circumference, holding out a coat. “Here.” He wraps the
coat round my shoulders and holds me. “You did well. You're
all right now. You did so well, Sophia.” He kisses the top of
my head, and I burst into tears. What the hell is wrong with me?

“
You are perfect. I knew you were perfect. I
just knew,” he says softly.

I lurch away from him and stumble off the table, my legs
wobbly and my mind groggy. “I...I'd prefer if you don't touch
me right now.” My words come out in a fierce whisper.

Julian nods, pushing his hands into his pockets.

I clutch the coat tightly around me. It is too large
and too long for me but it shields my naked body from Julian's wide,
dark eyes. His throat moves, as if to say something, but I know that
nothing he can say right now can make me feel better. I just feel so
naked and...violated, even though nothing has been inserted into any
part of my body. In fact, nothing solid seems to have touched me.

I sway on my feet.

Julian has kept his promise. He has not hurt me or
humiliated me. Yet...

“
I'll go to my room now. I know the way.”

He nods again and I can feel his eyes on my back as I
yank the door open and stumble out of the room.

I badly need a bath. I feel I need to scrub myself raw
and then I need to sleep, a deep, dreamless sleep to lose myself and
perhaps to convince myself that I haven't lost my mind. Not yet,
anyway.

Pulling the coat tighter around my body, I stagger
across the shadowy landing. I reach out and jerk frantically at the
knob of the first door I reach. The door swings open immediately,
and I hesitate for an instant at the doorway. The interior is dark,
but I can make out a king-sized bed and a writing desk at the corner.
My hand feels past the door frame and make out a switch. Snapping
the lights on, my eyes dart into every corner to make sure there is
no one in the room.

I hear a step behind me and I whirl round to see Julian
pause near the top of the stairs. “Would you like...” he
begins gently.

“
No! No, just no...” I back into the room
and slam the door. I would like nothing to do with him right now.

I lock the door behind me and make my way to the
bathroom. I let the coat fall to the floor and step into the shower
straight away. Maybe the water will wake me up.

As the water starts pelting me like bullets, the memory
of what just happened begins to play on the back of my closed
eyelids. My fingertips skim across my skin and I shiver violently.
While I was strapped to that machine, there had been no fingers or
hands or anything solid touching and stroking me. The only things
solid against my skin were the restraints and the surface of the
steel table. I must be out of my mind, but I'm pretty sure it was
just air that was pressing against me, stroking, sucking and
caressing me. It was air that had stimulated me and made me feel
such lust and desire. I had been aroused by air! And I think I had
climaxed...just by being in contact with air! Oh. My. God. I must
be some sort of freak!

Shuddering, I hug myself as the water continues
pummeling my back. Air! How is that possible? The thought is
enough to creep me out. It is as though I had made love to a ghost
or something. Brrrr!

I turn off the water and step out of the shower.
Grabbing the towel off the rack, I wrap it snugly around my body and
immediately curse under my breath. I had forgotten to grab my
clothes from the chair. But there is no way I am stepping back into
that room.

I see a small cupboard at the far corner of the room and
I just hope against hope that there would be some clothes in there.
Ill-fitting is okay. I just have to wear something. It can be a
plastic bag or a sack. Anything.

I open the cupboard doors and see a neat stack of
t-shirts and shorts. They don't look new, but they feel and smell
clean. Not that I have a choice. I pull on a large white t-shirt
that reaches down to my mid-thigh and try on different pairs of
shorts. They are all too big. The t-shirt is baggy and long enough,
so that will have to do.

I lick my lips and swallow, feeling desperately thirsty.
The air, that infernal air in the sphere, must have been very hot
and dry. And I did perspire quite a bit. I had felt the sweat
trickling down my breasts and legs. Tiptoeing to the door, I open it
a crack and peep out. There is a line of light under Julian's
bedroom door. The rest of the house is in absolute darkness.

I decide that I know my way to the kitchen well enough,
even in the dark. And I really need a drink. Even though the
experience hadn't been unpleasant, in fact it had been rather
pleasurable but I'm not ready to admit that yet, even to myself, it
had felt rather strange and surreal, and eerie in a way. I had never
had such an experience.

I try to swallow but my throat feels parched and
painful, as if I had been screaming. But I hadn't. Had I? I
definitely need a drink, to quench my thirst, clear my head and calm
myself.

Creeping down the stairs, I look behind me frequently to
check that Julian has not emerged from his room. Keeping my hands
firmly on the railings, I make it to the bottom of the stairs without
incident.

In the darkness and quiet, the house looks bigger, with
more hidden corners and spaces lurking behind the shadows. I turn
hurriedly away from the ground floor office, the room where I had
signed that seemingly simple and harmless contract. I should have
known. If anything is too good to be true—it probably is. I
should have asked more questions. I should have screwed my head
firmly on my shoulders, instead of drooling over the handsome doctor
and the unbelievable thirty thousand dollars. What if...what if he
won't pay me at the end of the three weeks? What would I do then?
Sue him? Slap him? Screw him?

Shit! What have I gotten myself into?

Balling my fists, I stride into the kitchen and flick on
the lights. The warm glow from the light makes the kitchen look cozy
and inviting. There is a lingering smell of pasta sauce and I take a
deep breath before stopping short in a spluttering cough.
Maybe...could he have...was there something in the pasta? Could
Julian have put something in the pasta sauce and caused me to
hallucinate and hyperventilate? Maybe it was those damn mushrooms!

I shake my head hard. I'm going crazy. I really need a
drink. Right now.

I put the small kettle to boil and start opening the
cupboards. I find what I am looking for, a tin of hot chocolate.
You just can't go wrong with chocolate. Chocolate will make
everything right.

Soon I am cradling a steaming mug of hot chocolate in my
hands and sniffing hungrily at the aroma. I take a sip and lean
back. Much better. I stare out the kitchen door into the spacious
foyer. The immense space and quiet makes me wonder if Julian feels
lonely in this large, empty mansion. His housekeeper goes home in
the evenings, leaving him alone in his office. He only has his work
and his machine to keep him company. And his house is such a long
way from the city, and his nearest neighbor is miles down that long,
winding road.

My thoughts start to gallop off in a hundred different
directions. Did he have company often? Female company? Did he
bring many women home? How many women has he subjected to his
experiments and research? Did the women have the same involuntary
response to that machine? Did they climax as violently?

The questions reel through my mind as I gulp down the
hot chocolate, almost scalding my throat. So many questions, and no
answers at all. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. By
that token, more knowledge should be a less dangerous thing. So—it's
better for me to get my questions answered pronto. Never mind that
it's way past midnight now.

Almost knocking the chair over in my haste, I march to
the sink and rinse out the mug. I scramble up the stairs and stand
at the door to Julian's bedroom. I can see that the light is still
on. Raising a trembling fist, I knock softly. There is no response.
I clear my throat and call tentatively, “Julian, it's me,
Sophia.” I blow out a breath. Of course it's me. There is no
one else in the house, is there? I press my ear to the door and
listen. There is a muffled sound, but I can't make out what it is.
I knock again. “Julian?”

I frown. The noise behind the door is more distinct
now. It sounds like a groan. My eyes and mouth round. Could he
have fallen and hurt himself? He might at this moment be bleeding to
death while I dither outside his door!

My hand flies to the door knob and twist. The door
gives and I push in soundlessly. What I see makes my heart stop and
my breath catch but I find myself unable to look away, much less move
away. I stand behind the door, staring in disbelief and awe at Dr.
Julian James.

Julian is lying on the bed, completely naked. His lean,
lanky frame is spread out on his rumpled sheets, a wet towel draped
carelessly over his hips. His dark hair is wet and his body is
glistening, like he just had a shower. I watch his face contort as
his hand moves between his legs. His eyes are closed and his
breathing grows harsher and heavier as his erection swells and pushes
out from the towel.

I gasp. He is huge...and beautiful.

His eyes are closed as he turns his head to the side and
murmurs into the rumpled, satin sheets framing his long, muscular
body. His body is toned and sculpted. I watch in fascination as he
muscles tense and ripple under his skin, his cock growing longer and
bigger as he strokes himself, moaning softly. His face contorts in
ecstasy as he touches himself. He tilts his head back, his throat
moving and his eyes tightly closed. Against my will, I take a step
closer towards the bed. I am drawn to him like a magnet. I gaze
into his face, wondering which woman is occupying his fantasies at
this very moment. Is it a celebrity, a colleague, a friend, a
stranger...?

I soon have my answer. As his passion overtakes his
senses, he whispers the name of his fantasy lover.

I stop breathing altogether.

The name escapes his lips again. “Sophia.”

My hand flies to my mouth. Did he just call my name? I
must have imagined it. I watch his eyelids flutter and his throat
moves a few times before he rasps out my name again, “Sophia,
oh, Sophia.”

This time Julian turns his head towards me and opens his
eyes slowly. His eyes widen just a fraction as he takes in my
presence in silence. Neither of us blinks and in that frozen moment
we simply stare at each other without moving, without breathing.
Julian's hand moves down to his towel and he wraps the towel around
his waist quickly. But his eyes never leave me. I see his lips form
my name again, but he doesn't speak it.

I am not sure what to do. I feel like an intruder,
barging in on his most private, intimate moment. I start to stammer
an apology and turn in circles, suddenly forgetting where the door
is. To my horror, I realize that Julian has gotten up and is walking
towards me. He is wearing his towel around his waist and I can still
see the huge bulge pushing against the damp, white towel. Julian
stops barely an inch from me and I watch a bead of moisture trickle
tantalizingly down his broad chest. Why do I have this insane urge
to lick it off his chest, or smear it across his light brown nipples
with my tongue and my fingers?

I only realize I am shaking when he puts his hands on my
shoulders to steady me. “Sophia,” he says softly.

“
I...I think I should just...” I keep my
eyes on the ground and try to back away.

“
Wait.” He trails a hand down my arm,
making my whole body quiver. “Please,” he sighs.

I force myself to look up at him, expecting to see anger
or shame or some kind of reproach in his eyes. Instead, all I see is
sadness and a searing, simmering emotion that I cannot identify.

“
I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...I just heard
something and I thought you...you...”

He puts a finger to my lips. “It's fine. In
fact, I think it might even be good.” He smiles, but he looks
sad.

“
Good?” My question comes out as a startled
squeak.

He takes my hand gently. “I know that you think
I'm an eccentric, cold, unfeeling, mad scientist who has been cooped
up alone in his mansion with his work and his machines too long. I
do know what some of my colleagues are saying behind my back, but
they leave me alone, perhaps out of respect, perhaps out of fear,
perhaps out of pity. I don't know. It doesn't bother me. I...was
happy to be left alone. I wasn't ready to connect with anyone. But
Julia is right. It's been more than five years. I should stop dying
and start living. Those are her words exactly. Julia's been trying
to set me up with her single friends but I just never met anyone that
I wanted to be with. Until...now.”