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“You’re fine just the way you are. And I’m in a hurry to get this restoration underway.” In a hurry to get away because she sensed Adrien’s imminent arrival as surely as if she’d heard his approaching footsteps, which she hadn’t. Any minute now, he could walk into the kitchen and throw her off balance. Better to head into town before that happened. Before she had to look at him again, this time in the daylight where all her fascination and preoccupation with her boss would be bared like a flashing billboard. Because she was fascinated by him, completely intrigued. He had his share of secrets, that much she knew, and most she would probably never know.
Yet she also knew those secrets had brought on his pain, and she had always been a sucker for lost souls. She’d manned a couple of hotlines on a volunteer basis, had championed several causes. She’d also learned that some lost people didn’t care to be found. She suspected that Adrien Morrell had no desire to be saved from his solitude. For that reason alone, she vowed to pay no heed to him, as long as he stayed out of her head.
Alone in his office, Adrien stood at the window and watched Selene Winston drive away. Curiosity sent him immediately to her room, to see if she had left for good. In his experience, everyone eventually left. Not so in this case, at least not yet.
The white gown she’d been wearing on the veranda last night was draped over the bed’s footboard. The sheer fabric had revealed only a few details, but enough details to set him on edge and keep him there. Striding across the room, he passed his palm over the gown that was as soft as her skin. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t touched her. Yet. But he would.
Last night, he’d warred with what was wise and what he wanted. Many considered him predatory, territorial in both business and in pleasure. Until recently, he’d lived for the thrill of the chase, the rewards of capture. Selene Winston had resurrected that desire. Though he’d made a solid effort to ignore his baser urges, he was still a man. A man on a mission.
He planned to draw her into his world with a slow and carefully crafted seduction, guiding her into the darkness he’d created. She might be reluctant at first, but eventually she would come without reservation. Willingly. Openly.
She would provide a respite from his remorse, a means to temporarily forget what he hadn’t done. More importantly, what he had done … to Chloe.
Fifteen minutes later, Selene drove into St. Edwards and pulled her sedan in front of Abby’s Antiques, a place she had visited several times. The shop was situated along a row of small businesses that lined the single downtown street, an ancient red brick church serving as the town’s cornerstone. After only a moment’s hesitation, she left the car and entered the glass door, the subtle chime announcing her arrival.
The proprietor, Abby Reynolds, a forty something tiny woman with bobbed auburn hair and kind hazel eyes, looked up from behind the counter positioned at the back of the store and greeted Selene with a smile. “Hello, Ms. Winston. I thought you’d left town.”
“As it turns out, I’m going to be here awhile.” Selene skirted the helter-skelter antiques as she traveled down the narrow aisle, basking in the blessedly cool air flowing over her. If only she could bottle some to take back to the plantation.
When Selene reached the counter, Abby pushed her black glasses up onto her head and set aside the book she’d been reading. “You’ve decided to stay?”
“Yes, thanks to you. Remember that ad you showed me? As it turns out, it’s a plantation west of town, and I’ve been hired to oversee a complete restoration.”
“Maison de Minuit.” Selene immediately noticed the wariness in Abby’s tone and the stiffness of her small frame. “That should be challenging.”
“Yes it will be, and that’s why I’m here.” Selene set her purse on the counter and folded her hands next to it. “Do you happen to know a local contractor who’d be willing to take it on?”
The woman shook her head. “You won’t find anyone here who’ll go out there.”
Exactly what Ella had told Selene earlier. “What is it about the place that has everyone avoiding it like the plague?”
“Well, there’s the matter of the lovers who supposedly died there, and the voodoo woman who lived there after that. And the somewhat insane Giles Morrell who fortunately wasn’t there very long. Take your pick.”
Selene wondered if Grace happened to be one of those lovers. “Do you know any details? Names, that sort of thing? I’d like to know a little bit about the plantation’s history.”
Abby shrugged. “I’ve only been in town a couple of years. When I have heard people speak about the place, it’s been brief, as if they’re afraid to talk about it. And there’s also the woman who mysteriously disappeared about a year ago.”
“What woman?” Selene couldn’t mask her surprise or uneasiness.
“Supposedly Adrien Morrell was holed up with her for over a year,” Abby said. “Ralph Allen works for a delivery service and used to make runs out there every week or so to deliver packages. He says he saw her looking out an upstairs window a couple of times.”
Surely Adrien didn’t have an unidentified woman locked up in the mysterious bedroom. A totally ludicrous thought, Selene decided. Still …”But as far as anyone knows, she left?”
“The deliveries stopped suddenly, and no one’s seen her since. Except Ralph swears he passed a coroner’s car coming from that direction one morning.”
Selene swallowed hard. “She died?”
Abby showed her discomfort by shifting her weight from one hip to the other. “There isn’t any real proof of that. No death notice or anything. But Mr. Morrell has enough money to pay for silence, so I guess anything’s possible. If he wanted her dead, he could arrange for it, even if he didn’t do it himself.”
Selene wasn’t sure she wanted to explore those possibilities, though she didn’t really view Adrien as a murderer. But what did she really know about him? Not much, other than he was a physically attractive, powerful man. “Maybe she just left on her own accord.”
“Maybe she was a ghost.” Abby attempted a reassuring smile. “You know how it is with gossip, Selene. People are like coon hounds with a rawhide bone. They chew on it for a while, then bury it for a time, but they always bring it out, along with more dirt.”
Selene wanted to believe that that’s all it was—idle gossip from the depths of idle minds. Rumor or not, she was still uneasy. “Do you know anyone who knows about the plantation’s previous owners? Maybe a historian of some kind?”
“Unfortunately, the town doesn’t have a library, otherwise I’d point you in that direction. You could try the courthouse, but I don’t know how far back their records go. They don’t even have a computerized system yet. And they lost quite a bit during a flood in the 1920s.”
That sounded like a surefire dead end to Selene. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try that.”
“Good luck,” Abby said. “In the meantime, I can ask around and let you know if I find someone who knows the history.”
“That would be wonderful.” Selene rummaged through her purse, withdrew a pen and paper, jotted down her number, then handed it to Abby. “This is my cell phone. You can call me anytime.”
Abby reached beneath the counter, took out a notepad and began to write. “I’m going to give you the address of a friend of mine, Linda Adams. She’s in Baton Rouge and she specializes in antique restoration.” She tore off the page and slid it in front of Selene. “She can help you with fabric selection and anything you need done with the furnishings. Her husband’s a contractor and he’s worked on several historical homes in the area, so he might be willing to help you out.”
Selene took the paper and tucked it into the side pocket of her bag. “Thanks so much. I’ll pay her a visit today.”
After giving her thanks and a goodbye to Abby, Selene slid into her car for the trip to Baton Rouge. But before she could pull out into the street, a name jumped into her mind, as clear as the sound of the church’s bell now tolling in the town square. The name meant nothing to her at all, but the voice that spoke it did.
Adrien Morrell’s voice.
“Who’s Chloe?” Following the query, Selene watched her dinner companion’s expression herald first shock, then caution.
“Where did you hear that name?” Ella asked.
“In town.” She didn’t dare tell her exactly where the name had originated—in her mind.
Ella sent her a suspicious glance before pushing the pile of peas around on her plate. “That’s not possible. No one in town knows about her.”
“They believe a woman named Chloe was here for a while with Mr. Morrell, and then she was gone. Rumor has it she died.”
Ella dropped her fork, pushed her plate aside and folded her hands tightly before her on the table. “First, you can’t always believe what you hear, Selene. Second, I don’t know who told you about her, but if I were you, I’d drop it. Now.”
Selene couldn’t ignore Ella’s adamant tone, or the hint of anger. She worried that if she pushed too hard, Ella might push back. Or worse, dismiss her immediately regardless of the contract. “I drove into Baton Rouge today and found a woman who’s going to help me restore the furniture. Her husband has agreed to come by and give us an estimate on repairs. But he’s busy until next week.”
Ella thankfully smiled. “You definitely accomplished quite a bit today.”
“I also went by the courthouse,” Selene added. “The woman told me it would take several days for her to locate any plans, and that’s if they actually have any. Do you think I might find some here?”
Ella shrugged. “I’m sure Adrien probably has a set, but you’ll have to ask him.”
Not something Selene wanted to do, at least not tonight. “Is there some kind of attic where I might find old documents, maybe original abstracts?”
Ella picked up both hers and Selene’s plates, then stood. “Yes, there’s an attic. You’ll find the door at the end of the hallway past Adrien’s office. Feel free to explore it.” The look Ella sent her said, “If you dare.”
“Think I’ll check it out in the next few days.” In the daylight, Selene decided, because she definitely didn’t want to traipse around in a dusty attic in the dark, in case she should come across the stuff scary legends were made of, including an idiot. That thought almost made her laugh. Almost.
Selene pushed back from the table and stood. “Let me do the dishes.”
Ella waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll do them, dear.”
“I insist,” Selene said as she began to gather the serving bowls. “I could use something to do while I think.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have a dishwasher.”
Selene had noticed, and that would be the first appliance on the purchase list. “I have no problem using my own two hands.”
Ella sent her a cynical smile. “Have you ever washed dishes before, dear?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Much to her mother’s horror.
“Then I’ll gratefully take you up on your offer. I need to speak with Adrien before I retire, anyway.”
Most likely reporting to him about the new employee, Selene decided. But that didn’t really matter. So far, she had done nothing wrong other than bring up the name Chloe. And although she’d decided to steer clear of that topic for now, she suspected Ella knew much more than she was willing to reveal. A mystery that might never be solved, unless Selene made a conscious—or subconscious—effort to solve it.
No. She wouldn’t invade someone’s mind to gain information. She’d done that before, only to suffer for it. If she discovered anything at all, it would have to come from someone verbally volunteering the information, not by her intruding into an unsuspecting mind. She highly doubted Adrien Morrell would serve as that volunteer, even though she instinctively knew he held the key. But then again, she might not want to know.
Adrien didn’t bother to look up from the newspaper, even when Ella slid the covered plate and utensils in front of him. “If it’s cold, don’t blame me. You should come to dinner like a normal person.”
He sent a disinterested glance at the food before finally bringing his attention to Ella. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Ella remained in the same spot, obviously in the mood for a little chat. “Don’t you want to know what our new houseguest has been doing?”
He knew exactly what she’d been doing—keeping him in sexual high gear, and she didn’t even realize it. Yet. He went back to the paper, hoping Ella might take the hint and leave. “I’ve told you, I’m not interested in her plans.” But he was definitely interested in her.
“She’s been asking about the house’s history,” Ella continued despite his comment. “I thought you might like to help her out with that.”
Adrien only wanted to help her out with one thing, and it had nothing to do with the past. He was much more interested in the immediate future. After folding the paper in precise creases, he set it aside. “What do you suggest?”
“First, she needs a set of blueprints,” she said.
He opened a drawer, withdrew a cardboard tube and offered it to her. “Here.”
Ella waved his offer of the plans. “You give them to her. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to her.”
If Ella only knew how badly he wanted to be nice to Selene, she’d probably rescind the suggestion. “I’ll think about it. But right now, I have some work to do. Anything else that needs my attention?”
“Yes, shâ. Your manners.”
She spun around and headed out the door before Adrien could even offer a parting good-night. He wasn’t expecting to have a good night. He’d rarely had one for almost two years now. Sleep had been as elusive as peace over the past months, and last night had been no exception. It hadn’t helped that he’d encountered a woman who had shattered all his expectations. A woman who’d started a slow burn that had begun to heat up at a rapid pace.
Maybe Selene would like to spend a little time with him tonight. If she wanted to explore some history, he could accommodate her. He would willingly take her on a different kind of exploration, if she gave him some kind of sign she welcomed his attention. He had no cause to think she might, at least not now.
But he wouldn’t let that deter him. He would have never gotten anywhere in business if he’d avoided challenges. Now he had to convince Selene Winston she had nothing to fear from him, as long as she never learned the truth.
Three
When Selene crossed through the “angel arena” on the way to her room, an eerie feeling slowed her steps on her ascent up the spiral staircase. As she turned the corner into the dark corridor, her heart immediately jumped into her throat. A few feet away, Adrien stood in the hallway, dressed in a steel-gray shirt and black slacks, one shoulder leaned against the wall, hands firmly planted in his pockets. He was as stone-still as the statue behind him, although he had much more physical appeal.
Selene planned to send him a polite greeting and goodnight before she retired to her room. But before she could even utter a word, he said, “Going to bed already?”
His voice was low and provocative, but then so was he. A sullen stranger set in shadows. The light was muted, but at least now she could fully appreciate the details of a face that could have been sculpted by the angels keeping vigil nearby. No horrid disfigurement. No mask of death. No real innocence, either, especially when it came to his eyes. Those deadly cut-glass blue eyes that he kept trained on her while she simply stood there as if in a trance.
Again Selene hugged her arms to her middle and finally snapped out of her stupor. “I’ve had a busy day,” she said. “I’m tired.”
He pushed off the wall but kept a safe distance. “Too tired for a little adventure?”
The question shook Selene’s waning calm so strongly she couldn’t speak for a few moments. “What kind of adventure?”
He took a slow step toward her. “Ella told me you’re interested in the history of this house. I have something that might satisfy you.”
His emphasis on satisfy shook her up even more. “What exactly would that be?”
“I could tell you, but I’d prefer to show you.”
Selene checked her watch, more out of nervousness than true concern with the time. Although it was barely past nine, she said, “It is getting late.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
He’d lowered his voice a notch and Selene responded with a slight shiver. A pleasant one that was both unexpected and inadvisable. “Where exactly would we be going for this adventure?”
He nodded toward the opposite end of the corridor. “To my office.”
An office seemed relatively safe, but could she really be safe around him? She had two options—to trust him or use her gift to sift through his thoughts. She opened her mind briefly, but came up with nothing. No visions of him holding her hostage or doing her bodily harm. At least not yet.
“Lead the way.” The words spilled out of her mouth without any further consideration. If she really intended to work for him, she had to give him some of her trust, unless he proved he didn’t deserve it. And hopefully not after it was too late for her to turn back.
She followed him down the hall, past the stairway and into the wing Ella had described to her during the initial tour, a place she had yet to explore. They passed by the closed door leading to the nursery, Selene presumed. When they reached another door adjacent to that, Adrien opened it and stepped aside for her to enter.
The large office was thoroughly modern, from the solid oak desk lit by a lone lamp to the computer sitting on a counter in the corner. Several binders were stacked neatly in an in-box and a silver canister housed various pens. Everything in its place and not at all what Selene had expected. But at least the room was sufficiently cool. In fact, it was cooler than most of the house, thanks to that modern convenience known as a window unit. Might have been nice if someone had bothered to install them everywhere.
When she heard the door close behind her, Selene fought the urge to spin around and display some serious panic. For all intents and purposes, she was trapped. He could do with her what he wanted and she doubted Ella would hear a single cry of distress.
Still, she wasn’t getting any strange vibes or sense of looming disaster. When she faced him, she did get the full effect of Adrien’s slight smile. The first she’d witnessed so far. “What do you want to show me?”
He slid his hands into his pockets again and looked much more relaxed than she felt. “A journal.”
Selene had learned nothing was of more value in recreating the past than personal writings. “Where is it?” she asked, her tone revealing her enthusiasm over the discovery.
Adrien crossed the room to his right, opened a door and flipped on a light. “Up here.”
Selene moved closer to see a dimly lit, narrow staircase and made a mental note to have someone replace all the low-wattage bulbs in the house as soon as possible. She took a mental step back when she realized she would have to accompany her employer into a remote area. “It looks like you might find a bat or two up there.” She’d said it with humor to mask her wariness.
He hinted at another smile. “No bats, but maybe a few spiders.”
“Lovely.”
He studied her for a moment. “Are you afraid of spiders, Selene?”
