SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (202 page)

“Now, tell me again what your name is,” Maylee asked when Taylor returned to the kitchen. “It was some kind of man’s name, wasn’t it?”

“Well, my name really is Taylor,” she answered, “but Ida introduced me to the others by my middle name tonight—it’s Rose.”

“Ah, now that suits you just fine. Well, Rose, we’re finished in here. Time for me to go back to the hotel. I just come over here sometimes to serve dinner and clean up a little. Thank you for helping. You know, I have a job tomorrow night that I sure could use some help with. Are you up to doing some extra evening work?” Maylee asked. “It’s a nice place. The master of the house is a bit eccentric, but he pays well.”

“I’d be happy to help you.”

“Wonderful—we’ll leave here after dinner tomorrow night. Wear your fanciest dress, too,” she instructed. “You’ll be serving some very important people, maybe even royalty. Mr. Shepard throws some impressive parties, and he knows everyone who’s important in this city.”

Maylee waved at Taylor as she walked out the back door, and headed toward the garden gate.

“See you tomorrow, Maylee,” Taylor called. She followed the cook out into the back yard. It seemed the quietest place to be, and maybe she could start making some sense of things. Sounds drifted out from the parlor—piano music and lilting feminine laughter, both eventually muffled by the rowdy sounds of masculine voices.

Glad to offer her help to Maylee, she was even more pleased to have any kind of future plans at this point. It made her existence seem somehow more real. It had finally sunk in that she had to face the fact that she was here. Really here. In the past. And living at a brothel, no less. At least she had a roof over her head and a job of sorts, and she knew things could certainly have been worse.

Taylor sighed. It was all so, so strange. As she sat in one of the chairs, she closed her eyes and thought about the chain of events that had somehow catapulted her into the past.  Reminiscing at the fair. The fortune teller. The train ride.

“Remember what was predicted, Taylor.”

Her father’s voice rang clearly in her mind, sending a shock of realization through her.

What did he mean?

Taylor tried to remember the details of the psychic reading she’d had with Madame Rosalinda, her father’s voice reminding her that the predictions did indeed seem to be happening. But, what was she doing here? What was she supposed to accomplish? And what about the danger?

Taylor shivered, remembering her suspicions about Jackson.
Is he the danger? Could he be the false friend?

As she felt her father’s presence pull away from her, her confidence drained away with it. Taylor’s eyes filled with tears.

I wish you were here, Dad.

* * *

“Well, Jackson, did you decide to finally take me up on my offer for a free gal?” Ida’s eyes twinkled as she gave him a playful jab in the ribs.

Jackson had just walked in Ida’s front door, breathless. “It’s my night off from the bar. Actually, I have an appointment and just wanted to wait here for a while, that’s all.”

“Well, suit yourself. Just don’t go distracting any of my girls, then. There’s some of Maylee’s peach pie in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Now shoo!” Ida waved him toward the kitchen and returned her attention to the men gathered around the piano in the parlor. Looking back over his shoulder he saw several of Ida’s girls chatting with the men, looking quite innocent and virginal. Within the conversation, however, selections were being made and soon the parlor would be empty except for the piano player and Ida—another successful night of business was underway.

Slipping into Ida’s on his way to find the McLaurey boys, Jackson was certain someone was following him. Better safe than sorry, he’d thought, and besides, he probably had at least an hour before they’d be at the meeting place. It would be safer to kill time here than in the bar and surely he’d lose whoever might be following him.

Feeling relieved he’d followed his instincts, Jackson continued into the kitchen for some of the pie Ida had mentioned and helped himself. As he stood by the back door, enjoying each sweet forkful, he gazed out at a dark-haired woman walking across the manicured back yard. He watched her hips sway as she made her way to the garden shed and went inside. When she emerged, she wore a pair of leather work gloves, the handle of a flat willow basket over one arm, and a pair of pruning shears in her hand. Why would one of Ida’s girls be out working in the yard?

Walking over to one of the side flowerbeds, the woman bent over a bush of miniature yellow roses and quickly cut off the dead flower heads, letting them drop into the basket. Working her way toward the house, she continued to prune until all the bushes were neat and trimmed.

Jackson stood watching, openly staring at her as she bent over to prune the rosebushes, affording him a provocative peek at the top of each breast. Fearing she would see him as she came closer to the door, he backed away and turned to put his dish and fork in the sink. When he returned to the door, he watched her enter the shed to put things away, then emerge once again and sit down at the table, primly waiting.

It looked as though she were waiting for him.

* * *

Taylor looked up as Jackson walked across the lawn directly toward her.

“Evenin’. I thought I might join you...may I sit with you? I’m Jackson Hoyt.” Jackson bowed slightly and graciously extended his hand to Taylor. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know your name.”

Taylor stared, baffled that Jackson had managed to find her…again. Then her held breath escaped with relief. At least he hadn’t recognized her. “I’m Ta...my name is Rose. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hoyt.” She did her best to distract him with her warmest smile, hoping her awkward reply would go unnoticed. She held out her hand.

As Jackson leaned closer to her, she inhaled the delicate aroma of roses. The bathwater, she remembered dizzily. In the dreamy light of dusk, his dark hair looked so touchable—soft and silky, with a few loose tendrils caressing his forehead. His eyes were a pale blue, almost a sky blue, she thought. His newly shaven face was already showing a sexy shadow of beard growth. And he had a perfect, full mouth. The man was gorgeous—dressed or naked. The thought made her cheeks blaze with sudden heat.

Then, as Jackson reached out to gently touch her fingers, he quickly pulled his hand away and stepped back. His eyes narrowed a little, as though puzzled, and then he motioned for Taylor’s permission to sit down. After she nodded, he joined her at the table.

“Rose, you seem to know how to care for your namesake. How do you know about flowers?” Jackson leaned forward placing both hands on his knees.

“Actually, my father was the avid gardener in my family, but I learned the basics by watching him.” Taylor stared into Jackson’s blue eyes. Once again she had felt an unexplained warmth when their hands had touched, just as she had in the bar when they’d first met. She wondered if he’d felt it too. Concentrate on his eyes, she instructed herself, forcing a smile and doing her best to calm the butterflies in her stomach.

“And how long have you been here in San Diego, Rose, and why have I never seen you before?” Jackson’s gaze held hers and she took in a deep breath, trying to relax.

“Actually, I just got here. I’m visiting from...up the coast.”

“Ah, and how do you like our wild and beautiful San Diego?”

Though it was obvious he was interested in her, her instincts reminded her to keep some distance. Still, maybe a little conversation wouldn’t hurt, and actually might reveal what she needed so she could decide whether she was maybe imagining something devious where there really was nothing going on.

“I love it here,” she answered. “And what type of work do you do here, Mr. Hoyt?”

Jackson paused, lifting one hand and running his fingers through his hair as though maybe stalling for time before answering. “I’m a...land speculator, looking to buy some property.”

“I see.” Why was he lying to her? There was nothing wrong with an honest job in a bar. She sat back a little in her chair putting even more physical distance between them. “And have you purchased anything, Mr. Hoyt?” What she really hoped for was an explanation of the ominous whisperings she’d heard between him and the man at Wyatt Earp’s gambling house. She tried to remember what she’d heard—something about having things under control, and something about picking a time… What she clearly remembered, though, was how his voice had sounded harsh and even cruel. She held back a shudder, then forced a smile.

“Just looking, right now. And this evening, Miss Rose, the scenery is the most lovely I’ve seen in San Diego.”

Then she watched as he checked his pocket watch, offered her a seductive smile and explained, “I’d really like to spend some time with you but, unfortunately, I have an appointment.”

“Oh?” Taylor held his gaze, wishing he would say with whom
. Probably with that man you met in the middle of the night.
Unfortunately, the only confirmation she seemed to be getting was that something was definitely going on.

“Excuse me, but I’d better be on my way. Though, I’d like to come back to see you a little bit later, Rose, if I may.”

He must assume she was one of Ida’s girls.
And I’ve given him no reason to think otherwise. This kind of complication I don’t need.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.” She dropped her gaze from his pleading eyes and focused on her folded hands. Part of her hoped for another opportunity to find out what he was involved in, and part of her felt so vulnerable under his gaze that she grabbed at the opportunity to discourage his attention.

Jackson stood and once again extended his hand to Taylor. “Well, perhaps another time, then. Goodnight, sweet Rose.”

As he brought her fingers to his warm lips for a gentlemanly kiss, again Taylor reacted to his touch, though this time, the energy surge was more of a feverish glow. The touch of his lips on her skin was heavenly, but the degree to which her body instantly responded absolutely stunned her.

Truth be told, a very big part of her couldn’t wait for the next touch even though logic told her that being drawn to him was wrong, and could even be dangerous.

Rose pulled her hand away from Jackson and returned it to her lap, doing her best to keep a neutral expression when her insides felt like they were turning upside down and inside out.

Jackson waited a long moment, and she wondered if he had changed his mind about leaving. As he stared at her, burying his hands deep in his pockets, she could imagine him as a boy—curious, reluctant, unsure of himself, maybe? Had he sensed her reaction to his touch? She blushed at the thought and vowed she should do her best to prevent him from touching her again.

“Evenin’, Rose.”

Taylor watched Jackson return to the house, and then followed behind him a few moments later. Racing up the servants’ stairs, she ducked into her room, unpinned her borrowed long hair, and quickly slipped out of her dress in one fluid motion. She hastily wiped the rouge from her cheeks and lips, and put on her own slacks, shirt, and vest. With her bowler hat on her head, she quietly made her way down the main stairs just as Jackson closed the front door behind him. Ida had detained him just long enough. Perfect.

She would see for herself who he was meeting tonight. If this was what the Tarot cards had in store for her, well, she needed to find out for herself exactly who Jackson was meeting and why.

Forever Rose: Chapter Seven

On Ida’s porch, Jackson looked keenly at the parade of people passing by, searching for anyone who might be out of place. He still felt certain someone had been following him when he’d ducked into Ida’s place, though now he saw no one who seemed suspicious. Somewhere a clock chimed nine times.

Time to go. Time to let things begin.

He walked around the corner and a block east. If the McLaurey boys were on time for their meeting, he knew he’d find them at the infamous Acme Saloon. Visitors and locals alike were attracted to The Acme, and owner Till Burnes had created a piece of the real frontier in his establishment. The Acme was as rough and tough as any western saloon, and Till even offered gawkers an up-close look at the wild West in the form of his caged pet bear. Jackson had laughed the first time he’d seen a mob of people ogling at the animal. It certainly drew the crowds in, he’d thought. Till was quite the business man.

* * *

Taylor’s gaze locked on the image of Jackson as he walked casually down the street. She followed, careful to stay in the shadows close to the buildings. His slow pace didn’t give the appearance he was in a hurry to get anywhere, she thought.

Then abruptly, Jackson stepped out of sight into a doorway. Taylor paused, hoping he would be far enough from the entrance so she would escape his notice. Dressed in the same masculine attire she wore when they’d met at Wyatt Earp’s, Taylor didn’t want Jackson to even notice her, let alone possibly see through her disguise.

She pulled her hat lower over her eyes, counted to ten, and walked into the doorway of the Acme Saloon.

The air inside was murky—filled with smoke and the noise of a very raucous party on the verge of becoming almost dangerous. Most of the men at the bar were enjoying cigars and drinking large mugs of beer that they gulped down without even pausing for air.

Taylor took a deep breath and tried to relax. She felt a terrible tenseness in her body and with a surge of panic, she realized that she could very easily find herself in trouble.

She began scanning the room, trying to see if Jackson was anywhere in sight. If not, she decided she would be out of there as fast as she could get back out the door.

Along the rear wall, she could see several curtained rooms and guessed that men might well be being entertained there by some of the colorfully dressed women who paraded across the room. The women pranced from corner to corner, calling and gesturing to regulars and strangers alike, leading them to the back area.

On her right, Taylor noticed an archway and a sign that pointed the way to The Reading Room. It looked like a much safer place to stand and would give her the chance to really look around.