The Keeping(25)
Whatever the truth about Greyson, the idea of working for him was both intriguing and intimidating. Mel just hoped that she managed to complete the job to his satisfaction. If he was going to become a patron of the arts, then maybe he would employ her again, asking her to do even more research on other up and coming artists. If he wasn’t pleased with her work... Well, she didn’t even want to let her thoughts go there!
With this in mind, Mel realized that she’d better keep her end of the bargain. Picking up her cell phone, she placed the call, only to smile in relief when she discovered that her phone couldn’t pick up a signal. Well, that solved that problem, she decided, happily snapping the phone shut. Who would ever have thought that bad service could be a blessing? She’d have to call when she was in town tomorrow. Aldrich couldn’t complain about her lack of contact, if there were no means of communication available to her.
Tossing the phone back into her purse, she set about preparing herself a quick meal, humming as she moved about the small kitchen. She’d bought easy to prepare foods and soon had a plate of grilled chicken strips and cooked veggies on the table. With no TV to watch, she amused herself by reliving her encounter with Ryne Taylor, adding pithy comments that she wished she had been clever enough to say at the time.
In her mind, the man was soon overcome by her quick repartee, and eagerly agreed to an exclusive interview with her. He was also careless with his comments and her clever questions soon had him on the verge of revealing what she had dubbed ‘the great mystery’; the reason why he basically appeared to be in hiding, and why the wolf picture seemed to be so important.
Mel snorted at her imaginings. It wouldn’t happen that way. Taylor was no pushover. Instead of trying to annihilate him with her scathing remarks, she should be thinking of ways to win him over with her pleasant personality so he’d be willing to talk to her. Usually, she got along with everyone, but for some reason, he seemed to bring out the worst in her. Well, no matter; she’d just have to try harder to get on his good side. Right now, she didn’t have any great hopes that such a thing would occur in the near future, but it was all she could think of at the moment.
Once dinner was done, she investigated the delights of the large claw-foot tub. It was big enough, and deep enough, that she could completely submerge with only her head and neck above the water line. It was at times like these that Mel actually enjoyed being a little on the short side. A lanky model would have her knees and shoulders sticking out over the top of the tub. Chuckling at the mental image that accompanied the thought, Mel leaned her head back and let the relaxing warmth creep into her body.
Steam rose about her, coating her face in dewy dampness. Her hair would be curling and frizzing soon; since no one would see her, she didn’t really care. The heat was turning her skin pink and she stuck one foot up out of the water, wiggling her toes and observing their appearance. She needed to redo her polish, she thought lazily before letting her foot sink beneath the water line once again. Bubbles drifted by, gathering around her neck and clustering in little islands that floated here and there in response to the slight current she created whenever she moved.
It was a great tub. Almost big enough for two. Idly she speculated at the chances of meeting anyone locally to share the tub with. The odds were probably slim. Still she daydreamed about someone sitting behind her. She’d lean against his chest and he’d wrap his arms around her, cupping her breasts and pressing wet kisses to her neck. His hands would drift down over her stomach to her thighs and then... A dreamy smile spread across her face as she lived out her own little fantasy.
By time the water had cooled, both her brain and her muscles felt like mush. Mel barely had the energy to get out of tub and drag herself into the bedroom. Throwing on her traditional sleepwear of an old T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks, she crept into bed and curled up into a ball, quickly drifting off to sleep.
*****
As was so often the case in bad dreams, she was trying to run, trying to escape, but her legs felt like they were stuck in quicksand. She pulled on her limbs, forcing each slow, plodding step, knowing that the terror behind wasn’t suffering from the same impediment. The air was cold and damp, tree branches slapped against her face as she made her way through the dark woods. Whatever was chasing her, was getting closer; its heavy footsteps sounding louder and louder. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
Hot breath hit her neck, long canines bit at her, tearing her clothing and piercing her flesh. Struggling to escape, she swung her arms wildly, gasping in surprise when her hand encountered something solid and warm. Now fingers clutched her upper arms, pulling at her, forcing her to turn around and face the horror that was attacking her. Heart pounding, she clenched her eyes shut. Like a young child, she hoped if she couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there.