Read A Thousand Kisses Deep Online
Authors: Wendy Rosnau
A Thousand Kisses Deep (12 page)
He arched an eyebrow.
"A kiss on a balcony doesn't mean that they're … doing it."
"Doing it?" He chuckled. "You surprise me, Evy. I never expected you to be so naive."
Evy…
She liked the name, liked the way it made her feel. "I'm not naive."
"That's debatable. You kiss like you haven't had much practice." He took another drag off his cigarette. "You were sucking on my lips like—"
"Don't you wish."
"Doesn't Parish kiss you?"
"As a matter of fact, no, he doesn't. The human mouth is a germ trap. Simon's immune system is delicate."
She tried to walk past him, but he pulled her back.
"What else doesn't he do to you?"
"That's none of your business."
"That's where you're wrong, Evy. I bled at Castle Rock, along with five other men because of you. Sully's dead. The minute you called
Merrick
, you put yourself in my world, and I'm not leaving yours without satisfaction."
"I need the file. Once I have it, you'll get what you want, and then we can both be rid of each other. Don't ever put your hands on me again." She touched her bruised lips. "Or your mouth. Now I have to go."
She tried to shake off his hand because he still hadn't let her go. He pulled a pen from his pocket, opened her hand and wrote a sequence of numbers in her palm, then curled her fingers inward.
"So you can reach me day or night."
Chapter 9
D
ressed in a black sweater and gray pants, Adolf Merrick stood beside his wife's grave. It was misting out and the air was chilly. He used to like autumn with all its fall colors. But since Johanna's death, he had changed his favorite season to summer for the sake of the roses.
Johanna loved roses. Peach-colored roses were her favorite, and for the past fourteen years he had a standing order at the corner flower shop for two dozen peach roses every Saturday to be picked up at
He'd gotten to know the owner of the flower shop by name. Harry was a good man, and he knew roses. Today he had hired Harry's daughter to deliver Johanna's flowers to her for the next several weeks while he was out of the country. It wouldn't be the same. Johanna would miss his company, and their conversations, but he knew she would understand. He'd had to make similar arrangements in the past when he'd had to leave D.C. on business.
Adolf squatted next to Johanna's grave and placed the roses in the brass cone-shaped vase to the left of her headstone. The roses smelled sweet in the damp humid air, and he inhaled the scent as he arranged them like he remembered Johanna doing on the dining room table in their country home during those blissful first years of their marriage.
"I'm taking another trip," he told her, letting his hand slowly move over the headstone to outline the letters of her engraved name and the inscription that read: Johanna Merrick, beloved wife.
A wave of dizziness stalled his hand and he concentrated on breathing through it. When it passed, he said, "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone this time. I've arranged to have Harry's daughter visit you. You remember Sarah. She's decided to take over the flower shop. Harry told me he's going to retire. He's almost seventy. I guess it's time. She'll do a good job. Sarah's like Harry. Dedicated to the roses."
He stood, waited as another dizzy spell threatened his balance.
"Your maple tree in the backyard is turning red. It's a little late this year. I think it's grown another foot since last year. You wouldn't recognize it if you saw it."
The mist had turned into a heavy drizzle, but Adolf ignored it and sat down on the stone bench a few feet away. After a time the dizzy spell let up. He'd been having them more often. His doctor said it was a warning sign that he needed the surgery soon.
He would have had the surgery by now if it hadn't required a long week in the hospital. That hadn't fit into his plans. And now that he was off to
Greece
, it was going to have to wait a little longer.
Eva had mentioned the
"I had an offer to sell the house, Johanna. I figure you'd want someone to enjoy the place. The couple seem nice. They're young, and have a little boy. Remember how we always talked about having children? A son. That's why we bought a place in the country, so there would be plenty of room for the kids to play."
Adolf shivered, looked at his watch, reluctant to leave. Five minutes, he thought, just five minutes more.
"The day has come, Simon. It's time for Evka to spread her wings and fly," the Chameleon said.
"Fly? But she's mine. You gave her to me."
"To teach her patience and survival. I never meant for you to keep her indefinitely."
Simon and the Chameleon were seated on the upper deck of the
Pearl
,
sipping wine. The afternoon was full of sunshine, the water a mirror of azure glass.
"But I thought after so many years you had decided to let her stay with me."
"There was no hurry for her to leave. I needed a safe place for her to grow and develop. If you remember, when I brought her to you she was not yet a swan."
"A swan?"
"She needed time, Simon. Time to learn things that her private tutor couldn't teach her. Things only you could. You have a rare talent for the eccentric. It's a gift, really. When I brought her to you, she was a delicate flower. Untested. She knew nothing about the world as we do. I knew you could teach her how to endure, and at the same time, she would be safe."
"So I was her baby-sitter. She would learn how to play my games, and survive them, and remain untouched in the process because I'm only half a man."
If that, the Chameleon thought, but he didn't say it. He suspected that Simon had never really come to grips with what had been necessary years ago.
"You are alive, Simon."
"And I should be grateful for the privilege. Yes, I've heard you say that more than once."
"Yes, you should."
"Spoken by someone who has no idea what it is like to have an erection in your mind when your body fails to make the connection on a physical level. I'm a freak. I look like one, and live like one. Tortured by both."
The Chameleon kept his voice level when he said, "Your castration was necessary, Simon. It wasn't done on a whim. The doctor's or mine. It saved your life."
"So save it once more. Don't take Eva from me," Simon said.
"I have no choice. I'll get you another beautiful toy to amuse you."
"Eva doesn't amuse me, she completes me. I don't want another. I want Eva."
"You sound like a five-year-old, Simon. In a few days you will be twenty-five. Grow up."
"Grow up, and do what? Become what?"
"I've given you houses, cars and enough money to have anything you want. I know you enjoy your freakish life."
"Now I do. I hated my life before Eva came, and I shall hate it again if you take her away. I love her."
The Chameleon refused to argue further. "I have many enemies, Simon. You know this. They need to be dealt with."
"What does that have to do with Eva?"
"I've made an offer to someone who is in the business of dealing with enemies. He's countered my offer, as I knew he would."
"What is he asking for? It can't be what I think it is. You wouldn't—"
"Eva caught his eye a few years ago. He wants her, and ten million."
The Chameleon watched as Simon set his wineglass down and stood. He seemed thinner than usual, as emaciated as a scarecrow. He asked, "Are you taking your vitamins?"
"Yes. All thirty-two of them." With that, he turned to face the sea. "How can you give her to a stranger?"
"You were a stranger to her once."
"That was different. You knew I would follow the rules. How can you be sure he will follow your rules?"
"If I agree to this there will be no rules. Eva will be his. But he has assured me that she will be treated well. I've given this a lot of thought, Simon. This is the perfect alliance."
"No rules? He'll take her to his bed. Have all of her. She'll experience a man physically."
"Yes. I think it's time."
Simon turned. "I could have touched her. Given her pleasure in my own way if you would have agreed to it."
"It would have only frustrated you more. And what of Evka? It's time to reward her for her dedication to the games, don't you think?"
"How soon do you plan to take her from me? Not before my party."
"No, not before your party. Sit, and finish your wine."
Simon sat, yet his gaze roamed the sea instead of looking at the Chameleon.
"Pouting will not change my mind. Look at me."
He obeyed, said, "She will not want to go. She cares about me."
"Don't be a fool. She doesn't care for you as a woman cares for a man. I have instructed her to obey you and endure your games, that is all. Still, it hardly matters. I have made my decision. Eva will be given to Holic Reznik."
"The assassin? You're giving her to a married man rumored to have a dozen mistresses?"
"He assures me that she will want for nothing."
Simon left his chair once again to pace the sunny deck.
"I brought you an early birthday present."
Simon stopped pacing. "A present for me?"
"More than one. They are beautiful, germ free, and willing to play any game you wish. No rules."
"No rules?"
"None."
"They're waiting for you below."
A smile back on his face, Simon started toward the stairs no longer pouting.
"Did you miss me?"
Eva turned around to see Simon leaning against the stone wall in the private courtyard outside her bedroom. It was late, after dark, and he must have just gotten home because he was still wearing his hat. Slowly he removed it and that's when she saw the blisters on his face.
"You know the sun is brutal on your skin. How could you have forgotten that? If you get an infection again—"
He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on her breasts and the way her pale nightgown clung to her. "Come to my room."
As he turned to walk away, Eva noticed Simon lower his head. That wasn't normal, and neither were his dull, lifeless eyes. They lacked the usual deviant sparkle.
Maybe an infection was already attacking his delicate system.
She stopped in her room for her robe, then followed the long corridor to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. He'd left the door cracked a few inches and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.
He was already undressed and she paid his bony back and skinny pale butt no mind as she went into the bathroom to retrieve a medicated ointment his doctor had prescribed for his skin.
She set the ointment on the table near the bed, and while he slipped into a pair of plain white cotton boxers, she stripped the bed down to the white cotton sheet, then retrieved a bottle of gin and a glass from the liquor cabinet.
Life with Simon was like riding an emotional roller coaster. Most days he was in his devil mode, angry at the world for the cruel joke he faced daily in the mirror. But there were just as many days when his body would play devil's advocate and he would be forced into a childlike subservient role. At those times, like tonight, she was required to play nurse. But by tomorrow the demon might be back, and she could find herself tied on a chair, listening to the rules for some new bizarre game that had come to him during the night.
In the beginning the hardest part had been not knowing what to expect. She understood that Simon's radical behavior was due to a combination of things. His appearance was atypical, he suffered from dozens of allergies, and was prone to infections that required his house staff to sterilize everything that came in contact with him. She was even required to bath with a special soap, and forbidden to wear cologne.
Several months after she had come to live with him, he had contracted an infection. Quarantined, he had sent for her on the third day. When she had entered his bedroom, she'd found him lying naked on a white cotton sheet. It was then that she'd understood the full extent of Simon Parish's perpetual torment—he'd been castrated.
At that moment, she had felt sorry for him, as well as a willingness to understand what drove him to his eccentricities. More importantly, she knew why the twisted games he played had never involved sex.
Simon stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. "Forget the ointment and come lie down beside me."
Surprised by the request, Eva hesitated.
He patted the mattress beside him. "An odd request, I know, sweet Eva. Do it anyway."
His firm tone was back, warning her he would have his way. She stretched out beside him, unsure if this might be the prelude to some strange game she had no wish to play.