Solace in Scandal (7 page)

Blotting her wet hair, she padded over to peek through the kitchen doorway. ‘I’m just here to borrow a book,’ she called lightly.

The looming stillness of the house gave her visions of a black hole just waiting to suck her up. She waited another moment, and then yet another for good measure.

Summoning up her nerve, she began tiptoeing down the hallway. She knew which book she needed and where it was. Her plan was to just grab it and go. The problem was that the library was at the other end of the house, a trek away.

She started down the long corridor, trying not to let it unnerve her. The place was just so big and museum-like. She looked into the foyer with its massive stair tower rising overhead. It picked up even the soft patter of her footsteps and made them echo. Squeezing the last bit of moisture from her hair into the towel, she looked in the other direction. It made her pause. The open room was sweeping and expansive, and it offered a wall-to-wall view of the lake – and, off to the right, her house.

Well, not her house. His lake house.

He’d been watching her that first night from the balcony right outside those windows. Had he been watching her since?

The idea sent another kind of shiver down her spine.

Hurrying along, she passed empty rooms filled with oak furniture, priceless antiques and vintage rugs. She felt out of place here, surrounded by so much wealth. Everything felt so heavy, yet so luxurious and tempting. The only context she had was the time she and her mother had vacationed in Rhode Island. Her aunt had taken them on a tour of the famous mansions of Newport – the summer getaways for the likes of the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers. The only difference there was that the rooms had been roped off. The classic look-but-don’t-touch approach.

This was real.

These people lived this way. They kept this mansion that was way too big with way too many rooms. They slept on these beds, walked across those priceless rugs, toyed with those pricey ceramic figurines … Privilege. There were so many aspects to that word. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to not have to worry about money, to have any pleasure or comfort available at the snap of her fingers.

She moved past a study and then a music room with a grand piano and harp. It made her frown. Did someone actually play that thing or was it just for show?

It didn’t matter; she was dawdling. Straightening, she focused again on the library at the end of the hall. She was about to walk inside when she realised she was still carrying the kitchen towel. A damp towel and books … It wasn’t a good combination.

There was a half bath just off to her right. She stepped inside to drape the hand-towel over a towel rail. For a moment, she let her toes curl into the rug beneath her feet. Even the bathroom rugs here were thick and sumptuous. Its burgundy colour matched not only the towels that were artfully arranged over the brass rail but also the soapdish and lotion dispenser. She was admiring the heavy ceramic set when a bang suddenly came through the pipes. The sound was so loud, it made her jump.

‘Ah!’

Lurching back, she looked at the sink and toilet. Was something wrong with the plumbing?

Another sound radiated through the walls. In the small room, the reverberation seemed to be coming from everywhere. Elena flinched again, warnings flaring in her mind. Shuffling backwards, she braced herself in the doorway.

What
was
that?

She looked for the source of the racket. It sounded as if the pipes were about to explode.

Wait. No, that wasn’t the pipes. She could hear them now in a distinct rattle. This was something else … some kind of impact … She looked out the window. Had someone made it onto the grounds? Were they trying to break in?

Another series of hard thuds rang in the walls, making her wince. She could literally feel them under her fingertips. No, this was coming from inside.

She looked up.

A strange sound had her quickly reevaluating and looking down. Under her feet. Below her, she’d heard a cry that could only be associated with a wounded animal.

‘Oh, God.’

Something was down there.

She didn’t think that Leonard had been caring for any pets, but would he have kept a guard dog inside if he’d known she was on the property? She doubted it, but she jumped when there was another explosion of noise beneath her. Banging noises. Desperate sounds.

‘Hold on. I’m coming.’

Shaking with adrenalin, she backed into the hallway. Whatever was down there, it needed help. She couldn’t ignore the frantic sounds. She looked up and down the hall. How could she get down there? The library was the only place she’d ever visited. She’d never explored; she hadn’t wanted to.

Bang, bang, bang.

More clanging rang up through the walls and her toes curled with the need to move. Where was the staircase? She didn’t try to be quiet as she raced back to the main entrance, though she nearly fell, her socks sliding along the hardwood flooring, when she found an open archway.
There
. Carpeted steps led downwards to the basement.

She flew down the stairs and immediately turned to her right. The sounds were louder down here. The limestone structure had soaked up most of the noise, containing it. On the lower level, they were booming. Her sense of urgency grew, and she ignored the indoor putting green and wet bar as she honed in on the anguish in the air.

‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Where are you?’

Heart pounding, she found the gym. It was nearly as big as the one she’d used in the city, only the equipment was better and it didn’t smell like sweaty socks. On the balls of her feet, she scoped out the situation.

There. The door off the end. It was shaking on its hinges.

She heard that raw, guttural sound that had stifled her breaths upstairs. Only this time the keening was clear. It wasn’t an animal; it was a person. A man.

‘What’s wrong?’ She raced over to the door, but was afraid to get too near just in case it exploded outwards. ‘Do you need help?’

The person inside didn’t hear her. They were setting up a racket, pounding on the door and scratching at it.

She lifted her hands to protect her face when they started kicking.

‘Hey!’ she yelled.

A roar responded. He’d heard her this time. ‘Out! Get me out!’

Her breath caught in her throat. She recognised that voice.

‘Now!’

She lurched back into action. ‘Stop kicking.’

Again, in his panic, the man didn’t listen. He was going at that door like his life depended on it.

‘
Alex!
’

The racket fell and the noise level dropped so suddenly, it was jarring. Still, Elena swore she could hear ragged breaths coming through the sturdy wooden door. She approached cautiously and laid her hand over the handle. ‘Alex, is that you?’

‘Elena?’

His voice was thin, and her name sounded plaintive. Urgency clawed at her.

‘Is it the lock? Are you stuck?’ She twisted the handle on the door and pushed, but nothing happened. She tried again, feeling him help from the other side, but something was blocking the door’s natural movement. Her brain began clicking as she sized up the situation.

‘Open it,’ he ordered, his voice brusque. ‘Damn it. Get it open!’

She yelped when he started kicking again. She could see the door bowing as he made contact, but he was kicking out, while the door swung inwards.

‘Wait! Hold on!’ She turned the handle and felt the latch open fine. Putting her shoulder into it, she shoved again. The top corner of the door swung in, but the bottom held tight. She knelt down when she found the source of the problem. ‘The gym mat is lodged under the bottom corner.’

She reeled back when the door starting shaking again.

‘You’re making it worse. Alex! Let me help you.’

He stopped abruptly. She pounced while she had the chance, talking out loud to keep him distracted. ‘It’s wedged in tight. Kicking it will only make it worse, and you aren’t Bruce Lee. You can’t kick through it.’

Although he’d certainly tried.

How long had he been locked in? Trapped like a wild animal?

No matter what she thought of him, the idea of that kind of suffering made her throat hurt. He wasn’t one who was built to be tied down. He could barely stand to be in this gigantic house for a full day. ‘Let me just try something.’

She let out a grunt as she fisted her hands around the mat and pulled. The corner of the door only dug deeper into the rubber.

‘Elena?’ His voice was raw, more a harsh whisper than tone now.

‘It’s coming,’ she promised. Sitting down, she braced her feet against the wall to give herself leverage. ‘Don’t do anything. I’m right behind the door.’

She tugged again, her teeth gritting at the effort. She could feel him on the other side of that door, hovering and fidgeting.

‘Did you try the hinges?’ She needed to keep him talking. She needed to calm him down. If she let him slip into a panic, he’d only work against her.

‘I broke two combs trying to pry them out.’

He was standing just on the other side of the door, his voice right above her. It was intimidating, but he was focused. That was good. Anything to pull him back from the brink. She began pulling on the mat, working it back and forth. It was malleable, but so heavy-duty she could hardly lift it. It wasn’t one of the thick cushy mats everyone did sit-ups on, it was the rubbery kind that gyms laid across their walkways and underneath equipment.

‘That was innovative.’ She smiled fiercely when the right side of the mat slipped out a good inch.

‘Not really,’ he said in that raspy voice. ‘You should see what inmates can make with those things.’

She froze.

‘No, I take that back,’ he said more softly. ‘You should never see that.’

That edge was back in his voice. She had to get him out of there now. She looked around the room for something she could use. For all the shiny equipment and heavy free weights, there wasn’t much. Besides, she didn’t think cutting the mat was the right way to go.

She kept wiggling it with her feet braced like a rower. Her shoulders began to ache at the effort, but then she fell backwards.

‘Ooo, almost.’

She felt his anticipation jump and wondered how she could ever miss him when he was walking through the forest. He was standing on the other side of a slab of wood. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his presence. His heat was blistering.

It made her uneasy. She’d never seen him like this. Every time they’d crossed paths, he’d been cool and contained. Low-key and reined-in.

Except for that time in the garden.

‘Can you lift on the handle?’ she asked. ‘Pull up.’

Before she even finished the question, she felt the resistance give. She yanked on the rubber mat and her momentum swung. She rolled halfway onto her back when the stupid thing popped loose.

‘Ha!’ She scrambled to her feet and stepped back, getting out of the way. She brushed off her bottom, but the door stood eerily still.

Why wasn’t he –

Oh, God. She’d told him not to do anything, that he could hurt her if he came out suddenly.

She sprang forward and grabbed the door handle. It turned smoothly, and the door swung silently on its hinges as she opened it. It stopped halfway when masculine fingers curled around the edge. Those fingers turned white, and he pulled the door open so wide it banged against the bathroom vanity.

That ache in Elena’s throat spread to her chest when she finally saw him. He looked haggard. His colour was ashen, although heat and humidity poured out of the room. The lines of his cheekbones were harsh, and his jaw was set like a master lock. His eyes, though … Those icy grey eyes glinted with something raw and wild. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

He jammed his foot in front of the door and she winced when she saw the bruising and swelling that had already started. He’d been kicking at that door with his bare feet.

Then again, that wasn’t all about him that was bare.

She swallowed hard. He must have been taking a shower when he’d gotten trapped, because all he was wearing was a towel. A loose, very insecure towel. It sat low on his waist, with the knot looking like it could slip at any moment.

Awareness prickled along her skin and her face warmed. She’d known he was fit, but this went beyond that. He was ripped. Lean and animal-like.

Beautiful.

He started moving then, determined to get out of the tiny room. Her gaze snapped up and she stepped back to make way.

Only he didn’t stop coming at her.

Instinctively, she lifted her hand. To stop him or ground him, she didn’t know. He came out of his makeshift prison like a bull coming out of a gate, and her palm spread wide across his warm, muscled chest. The contact was shocking, but she gasped aloud when he touched her. He caught her by the shoulders, his grip hot and urgent. Their gazes locked and her heart kicked like that bucking bull that just escaped.

‘You,’ he rasped. His hot breaths hit her square in the face.

They stared at each other, chests working. Electricity passed between them, creating a full circuit through touch. His fervency transferred to her; her agitation swam back to him. The tension in the room changed, ratcheting impossibly higher.

Elena watched him with wide eyes as he pulled her close, but then his head dipped and his mouth closed over hers. He kissed her hard, his lips firm. Hungry. Frantic.

The adrenalin that had been rushing through her veins dove deeper into her belly. Arousal knotted in her gut and her thoughts splintered.

His need; it went bone-deep. She could feel it in the tremble in his grip. He wrapped an arm low around her waist and cinched her up tight. Their bodies connected from mouth to knee. All she felt of him was bare skin as he leaned over her. Smooth, delicious skin. His heat seeped into her and she shuddered.

‘Elena.’ Something close to a groan rose from his chest.

He was bigger than her and stronger by far, yet he was hanging onto her as if she was the only thing keeping him from going under.

She hesitantly slid her hands up his back. The strength she’d imagined was all there, with nothing to hide. His body was a tapestry of muscles and tendons that jumped at her touch. Her fingertips curled inward. The power she felt was intoxicating.