I frown. I hate the man. And that is putting it politely.
And yet, here I am in his bedroom. A place I should never be. But, still unwilling to leave, I walk to the middle of the room, my petticoats rustling, the heels of my shoes loud and echoing on the hardwood floor. The fire crackles. It feels as if I am in a different world. Like Alice in her wonderland.
As if pulled by invisible hands, I head toward an antique, dark oak dresser. In a trance I stroke the metal handle. It is cool, smooth, full of all the events it has seen for hundreds of years, the squabbles, the trysts. A frisson of strange excitement runs over my skin. I pull at the metal handle. The drawer glides open with a whisper, smoothly, like it is on roller blades.
I stare wide-eyed at the contents.
Velvet boxes. Piled on top of one another. So many secrets. BJ’s secrets. I take one and open it. A tiepin with a blue stone glitters up at me. I open another. A tiepin with a black panther, obviously old. I open another box and freeze. A gold tiepin that reads ‘Layla’ in cursive writing lays there. It ends with a small diamond at the end of it. I lift my head and look at the mirror above the dresser. I look different, strange, shocked. I shouldn’t be here. This is wrong. I look into my eyes.
What the fuck are you doing, Layla?
But I don’t turn away and run out of the room like any sane person would. Instead, I do a truly strange thing. Something I have never done before. I feel the blood pounding in my ears. So loud I cannot hear the logs crackling anymore. I take the tiepin out of its box, open my purse, and… oops… it falls in. Freaking strange that! I am a good girl, brought up as a proper Catholic. I don’t take what’s not mine. But my fingers snap my purse shut. The sound is loud and makes me jump. I can hear other sounds now, the merry fire and, faintly, the sounds of the party downstairs.
Slowly, almost afraid of what I will see, I raise my head and look at my reflection again. What I see there is far more frightening than a thief. My reflection is no longer alone in the mirror. BJ is standing in the doorway. His huge, muscular body fills it entirely.
Oh God!
TWO
Layla
Cold fear races down my spine. My pulse accelerates wildly while my mind jerks into overdrive. Maybe he didn’t see me lift his tiepin. Perhaps I could just slip past him. I could pretend I am lost and that I didn’t realize I was in his bedroom. Maybe. Just maybe. Very deliberately, I place my forefinger on the edge of the drawer, shunt it closed, and turn around to face him. Some men have looks, others have charm. BJ has presence. An edgy, almost menacing presence. The moment he appears in a room he owns it. He changes the atmosphere the way a grizzly coming into a room does.
He is wearing a silver hoop in his right ear, a black T-shirt, army surplus camouflage trousers, and combat boots. He is half-pirate, half-smuggler. He remains perfectly still. Danger and power ooze out of him. My heart starts to hammer inside my chest. I can do this, I think defiantly. I’m not scared of you. I’m an Eden. Edens eat Pilkingtons for breakfast. Straightening my back and keeping my expression cool, I begin to walk toward him. I pray he cannot see my legs wobbling.
When I am five feet away I see his eyes. They are pools of gleaming black tar. No light there. They are flat and utterly impenetrable. For a fraction of a second I have the strangest impression of sexual tension. But of course, that is a trick of my overwhelmed emotions. His mouth is set in a forbidding line. I have seen it stretched in laughter, but never full on. Always from afar, by accident, and only from the corners of my eyes.
A foot away from his looming form I stop. He really is so damn huge. The scar on the top of his left cheek appears alive in the firelight. I swear no man has ever looked more inhospitable, or made me feel more intimidated.
‘Sorry,’ I say tightly. ‘I got lost and wandered in here by mistake. I guess I better get back to the party.’
He does not step aside to let me through. He is so big, so meaty. He is like a predatory animal.
I clench my handbag tensely. ‘Will you please move?’
‘You want to pass? Squeeze past,’ he suggests mildly, his face devoid of any expression.
‘How dare you? I’ll call my brother,’ I threaten. Attack is always the best form of defense.
Something flashes in his eyes. I know then that I’ve made a mistake. I should have been more humble. It would have made my escape easier. He slips his large hand into his trouser pocket and produces a phone.
‘That’s a good idea.’ His voice is silky with warning. ‘Call him. Last time I looked he was with his pregnant wife. I believe your mother was sitting nearby, too. They can all rush up here to my bedroom and save their precious little princess.’