Midnight Rose (17 page)

Damn it.

Standing in the darkened shower under a tepid spray, she replayed last night’s events up to the moment when she oh-so tactfully asked Jakome, “Do you buy your clothing in the big and tall shops?” The sound of his laughter echoed in her head. Everything after that was a blank.

With great care to avoid tugging, she combed her dripping hair, wrapped herself in a robe and padded across the room to the bedroom door. The hinges creaked slightly and she paused, listening for the sounds of life in the house around her. Hopefully Gideon’s friends had left. The thought of facing them in the unforgiving morning light made her stomach tilt.

Nothing broke the silence beyond the hallway. Good. She dressed, her hands shaking as she tucked in her sleeveless red shirt and buttoned her denim shorts. A healthy dose of cosmetics masked her pallor.

Pulling her wet hair back in a loose, headache-sensitive ponytail, she slipped out of her room and descended the stairs.

The ghostly hand of change had painted the hunt scene anew in the last twenty-four hours. Three of the four hounds were gone from the canvas. The riders looked absurd barreling down on the hapless fox with a lone beagle trotting behind them.

Kate smiled without humor and continued down to the foyer, grateful that the day maid hadn’t swept through the mansion and turned on every lamp and chandelier. Usually the staff did so to compensate for the lack of daylight Jude’s illness required. But right now Jude was nowhere to be seen.

Descending to the kitchen with a creeping sense of dread, Kate paused in the doorway and studied the man sitting at the table, hunched over a cup of coffee that curled steam beneath his chin.

Gideon wore a faded green T-shirt and sweatpants. His feet were bare. He looked disheveled, exhausted, and the sight of him jolted Kate’s heart.

“Good morning.” Her hesitant greeting shattered the stillness. “Where is everyone?” He stirred and shot her a half-glance. “Jude’s ill.”

“Oh, no.”

“Nothing unusual, fortunately. But I’m going to stay around the house today. I sent the day staff home.”

“And Martha’s off for the weekend.”

“That’s right.” He took a sip of coffee, ran a hand through his tousled black hair. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

Crossing the brick floor, she pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Did your friends leave?” He gave a curt nod and returned his attention to his cup, seemingly unperturbed by the thick silence between them. He didn’t offer her coffee, as was the norm. His stony demeanor made her feel utterly alone in the mammoth house.

She bit back the urge to blurt questions about last night. Maybe she’d done something infinitely foolish, like throwing herself at him. Maybe he’d decided he wanted nothing to do with her now. Maybe he still had her panties.

His face was shuttered. She felt alienated, hollow, as though she’d lost a precious possession in the space between her heart and his.

As she rose to retrieve her own mug of coffee, Gideon spoke. “I’m going to get dressed. I’d like you to join me in my office in thirty minutes.”

She turned to face him, gripping the counter behind her. “Have I done something wrong?” For an instant his features softened. “No, Kate. No.” He paused, a muscle flexing in his temple, and looked as though he wanted to say something more. Then, “Help yourself to the sweet rolls warming in the oven. I’ll meet you upstairs in a half-hour.” Kate watched him go, then closed her eyes and sighed. Something had happened between last night and this terse, painful moment, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be enlightened.

On her way to meet Gideon, Kate paused outside Jude’s bedroom door and tapped lightly. She was desperate to ease the inexplicable dread building in her chest, a mixture of concern for the boy and confusion over his father.

A rustling of sheets came from within, followed by a thin voice. “Yeah?” Kate cracked the door and peeked in. “I hear you’re under the weather.”

“I woke up feeling weird.” He shifted against the pillows, his dark hair tousled and cheeks flushed.

“Delilah gave me germs or something when she kissed me last night.”

“She didn’t give you germs.” She made a face at him. Then, with a prick of childish spite, said, “Well, heck, maybe she did. You never know about people or where their lips have been.” “Dad said those visitors didn’t stay the whole night.”

“That’s right.” Kate gave a confident nod, completely at a loss as to when they left or under what circumstances.

“He doesn’t like them anymore.” He eased himself up and turned on the bedside lamp, its golden glow flooding the left side of his face. “He used to really care about them. They were like his family, but now he never wants to see them again.” Sitting on the edge of his mattress, Kate studied him. “Did he tell you that?” “No. But he’s thinking it.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged. “Same as I knew who was coming up the driveway last night.” Kate, who’d never believed one iota in the supernatural before stepping inside Sister Oaks, didn’t doubt him for a second. “Do you know why he doesn’t like them anymore?” “They’re bad people or something.”

A waft of cool air drifted down the back of her shirt, raising the fine hairs on her neck. “Bad people, as in they break the law?”

The answer darted behind his eyes, fleeting and frightening. Then it was gone, and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about them.”

Kate was silent, fingering the velvety edge of the plaid comforter. Finally she glanced up at him. “So you can guess what people are thinking?”

“Sometimes.”

“All people, Jude?”

“Most people.”

She narrowed her gaze and waggled her fingers in front of his face. “Okay, mind-reader, what am I thinking right now?”

“You think you might leave here. It’s too weird for you.”

The somber declaration, so close to the truth, caught her up short. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you say so.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Each time she thought about leaving, a hollow ache pierced her heart.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t be scared away, though. Things were growing progressively stranger, and she felt vulnerable, as though she stood too close to a raging fire. When she closed her eyes, she saw hands reaching through the flames. Jude’s. Gideon’s. In her dreams at night, sometimes they grabbed her and pulled her in.

She jerked herself from the vision and offered him a crooked smile. “Well, maybe I’ll give you a crystal ball for your birthday in a couple of weeks.” She stood and reached to straighten the coverlet across his midsection. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she brushed the hair from his forehead and took a closer look at his red-rimmed eyes. “You going to be okay?” He sighed. “I’m always okay. I’m going to live forever.” An awfully weary sentiment for such a young person, she thought. He seemed so melancholy today. So alone.

Kate smiled at him. “I’m going to be around the house all day. I’ll play video games with you when you feel better.”

“Okay.” He slid beneath the comforter and turned toward the wall.

Outside in the hallway, she paused before Gideon’s bedroom doors and drew a steadying breath. Then she knocked. Firm, controlled. Take the bull by the horns .

Quiet. Then both doors swung open and he stood there, solemn and clean, smelling of shampoo and soap and delicious aftershave. His hair was still damp, so black it reflected the light in iridescent shots of blue. “Hi. Come in.” Kate’s pulse tripled its beat. Beyond Gideon was his most personal space—a mirror-less personal space—and for the first time, she was stepping inside his private life.

She had no idea what to expect, and no choice; her feet offered her none. They followed him over the threshold and took her to the middle of the room, where she stood in silence, staring. It wasn’t the massive, medieval chamber she’d somehow conjured in her fantasies. There was no heavy canopied bed ala Henry VIII. No velvet or tassels or fierce animal heads hanging on the walls. The furnishings were casual, plaids and stripes in varying shades of tan and ivory; similar to her own rooms in cheerfulness and comfort, but more masculine. The enticing scent of man tinged the air. Gideon’s scent. His bed was unmade, just like Jude’s usually was, the striped comforter wadded at the bottom, sheets in a twist. A lot of restless sleepers in this house, she mused.

Stepping farther into the bedroom, Kate glanced around at the half-open closet doors, the running shoes kicked in the corner, the stack of jeans folded on the ottoman at the foot of a plaid club chair. “This isn’t at all what I imagined.” “I won’t even ask,” Gideon said dryly. He gestured toward a narrow door to the left. “Come into my office.”

It was dark in the anteroom, quiet and small. Outside the French doors that led to a balcony, gathering clouds choked the morning sunlight. Kate lingered in the office doorway and watched while Gideon opened a drawer in the massive antique desk and withdrew a flat, white box tied with black ribbon.

“Sit down,” he told her, nodding toward the wingback chairs in front of the desk. His face was grave, marked with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

Hesitantly, she took the chair nearest the door and waited for him to seat himself opposite her. His fingers caressed the black grosgrain ribbon around the box before they tugged at an end and untied the bow. Then he gently lifted the lid, set it on the desk, and handed her the box.

Her hair fell against her cheek as she peered down at the assortment of photographs inside. The same long-lashed, mesmerizing eyes gazed back from every image. Gideon’s wife. Jude’s mother. Seductive.

Playful. Somber. Willowy and enchanting in every pose.

“This is your wife,” Kate said, brows lowering. “Jude’s shown me photos of her before.”

“Yes. But he doesn’t know about these.”

They were too provocative, no doubt. The woman in the pictures was uninhibited, desirous. In one photo she was sleeping, a bare, pale arm flung above her head, sheets draped low across her breasts.

Kate pictured Gideon kneeling by the edge of the bed with his camera, stealthy and breathless in his attempt to capture such a moment of exquisite perfection. The photograph’s existence spoke a bittersweet truth; he’d loved Caroline Renaud with wild abandon.

“They’re lovely. She was lovely.” Glancing up at him, she tried to read the shadows that had crept across his features and found herself at a loss. “Why are you showing me these?” “Caroline wanted children.” He stared past Kate’s shoulder as though he didn’t see her. “And I wanted Caroline. She begged me to give her a child, and I would’ve done anything to keep her. So I promised, and I kept my promise.” His black gaze shifted back to hers. “Mrs. Shelton told you Caroline died because of complications from Jude’s birth?” “She hasn’t given me details,” Kate said quietly, fingertips brushing the face of the woman in the photos.

“I’m sorry, Gideon.”

“Caroline was, too. In the end, anyway. Sorry for marrying me, for ever meeting me in the first place. It would take hours to tell you why. It’s not the reason I brought you in here.” Her heart commenced a nervous, uneven dance. “Then what is it?” “I’m releasing you from your position as Jude’s tutor. I’m sorry, Kate. This arrangement isn’t going to work.”

Without waiting for her shocked response, Gideon reached across the desk and retrieved a long envelope, which he extended from between steady fingers. “There’s two months severance pay here, enough to cover the inconvenience we’ve put you through. Martha will help you make all the necessary arrangements. A taxi will be here in the morning to see you to the airport or train station, however you wish to travel.” “Why are you doing this?” Heedless of the tears closing her throat, Kate stared at him. “Why are you talking to me like we’re strangers? For God’s sake, Gideon—did I do something wrong?” Fifty emotions flickered across his handsome face in the blink of an eye. “No, I did. I did something wrong. I don’t want another box filled with pictures and empty memories, Kate. I wish I could explain it to you. I know you don’t understand.” Anger washed through her, wicked and sharp, cleansing her grief. “But I’m beginning to. You’ve yet to give me a solid explanation for why you fight this thing between us, but I’m starting to figure it out all by myself. I’m a lousy opponent, right? I’m not practiced enough in the games you play. You could have me if you want me, I never bothered to deny it or hide it. I guess that means I’m disqualified, huh? Game over?” Maybe he attempted a response, some consolation prize for her having stepped into the fire with such naïve hopefulness. She was too furious and hurt to listen. Jerking to her feet, she tossed the box of photographs on the desk and gave a silent kiss-off to Caroline Renaud. She was foolish to ever think she could compete with a ghost. And if Gideon thought she would let him see her cry, he was just as big a fool.

Moving like a spark across a live wire, Kate sprinted from the office and across the expansive bedroom, leaving Gideon and his shadows far behind her. So when his palm unexpectedly darted out and slammed the door shut in front of her, she screeched and nearly thudded to the floor in sheer fright.

“You—” She whirled to face him, found him incredibly close, his mouth an inch from hers. “How did you…damn it, Gideon! I don’t under—”

“I know,” he said, fingers creeping through the hair at her cheek. “But understand this. If you don’t leave here, I’m going to love you.” His hand tightened in her hair. He was trembling. “Are you listening to me? I’m falling in love with you. It wasn’t supposed to happen again, not like this, not… I can’t have a relationship with you, Kate. I can’t give you what you need.” “Why not?” A rebellious tear escaped her iron control and slipped down her cheek, pooling against his thumb. “Because you did some things in your past that you regret? Because your son is sick and your wife died before you could resolve your marital problems? My God, Gideon, we all have burdens to carry. We all have pain. But if you shut out life, it abandons you!” “Kate—”