A Beast For The Eyes: A Steamy Shifter Romance (A Ravenswood Romance Book 2) (31 page)

“I lied to you.”

“You have not lied about the important things, only the unimportant ones.”

“I've lied about everything!”

“You love me. That is no lie.”

Shayne was struck dumb. Tears welled up within her eyes and streaked her cheeks.

“Can you deny it?”

“No,” she whispered helplessly.

He leaned forward, his lips but inches from her own. “Then, allow me to love you in return.” He covered her with his body and kissed her lips. She felt his fingers delving gently into the very heart of her womanhood, and pleasure flowed through her. She sighed as he stroked her there.

He teased her, giving her a little at a time, making her beg him to continue. She whimpered softly beneath him, lost in the smell and warmth of his skin. His body was well-muscled and she clutched at his arms, marvelling at his gentle strength.

He moved his hands up toward her breasts, caressing each one, rubbing the nipples with his thumb until she thought she might go mad. She wanted him badly, but he denied himself to her. He smiled when she begged him to enter.

“Not yet,” he whispered in reply.

He had not yet penetrated her, but she could feel the warmth and hardness of him against her. She stroked his member with her fingers and a tremor went through his body. He grasped hold of her wrist and pulled it away, pinning it to the pillow while he strove to control his passion. Shayne was pleased to see that he desired her as much as she desired him. He released her and moved lower.

When his tongue found the place of her pleasure, lightning flowed through her. She felt herself growing close to the brink and her hands shot down, entangling themselves in his hair. Anticipation filled her as the sharp pleasure spread.

And then the tidal wave swept over her.

She cried out, her entire body trembling as she held on to him. He paused startled by her reaction, concern marking his features.

“Have I hurt you?” he asked.

“Oh, Ren, no! Just the opposite.”

“You were screaming.”

“It was an orgasm,” she gasped. “Remember, I told you I would show you what they were.”

“Are they always like that?”

“To be honest, that was the best one I have ever had.”

“How many can you have?”

“I don't know.”

A smile spread across his handsome face. She felt his manhood enter her, and gasped at the first thrust. His rhythm was slow. She fell into it easily and closed her eyes.

“No,” he panted. “Keep them open. I want to see you.”

She opened her eyes shyly.

The climax was swift for her, strengthened by the feeling in his eyes. She clutched at him, as wave after wave of pleasure descended over her body. Each step she climbed was stronger than the one before and her cries grew in frequency and volume. She heard his cries mingled with hers and it intensified the feeling. Suddenly, blackness erupted at the edge of her vision. It was warm and encompassing. She surrendered to it.

She opened her eyes to see his worried face hovering over her own. There was relief in his eyes as he kissed her mouth.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You fell into a swoon.” There was a sadness in his eyes.

“A swoon? You mean I fainted?”

He nodded.

“I guess you've learned a lot in 700 years.”

“No, that is one thing I never studied due to my vow. My wife...she fell into a swoon every time we made love. I believe that is why she left me for my friend.”

“You mean, this always happens when you make love to a woman?”

“Well, my wife never screamed nor thrashed about. She simply fell senseless beneath me.”

“I was right. She was a fool.”

“I have pleasured you then?”

She gave him an emphatic nod. “Oh, yes!”

“Will you answer a question for me?”

“Sure.”

“It has been quite some time since I have made love. Would you...like to do it again?”

Shayne smiled and pulled him into another kiss.

The afternoon sun filled the room with orange ambiance as she lay in his arms. His fingers stroked her shoulder in lazy circles. They had been content in their quiet and Shayne regretted breaking it.

“I'll go to Charles Lyle's office tomorrow,” she said. “I think he will agree to my offer.”

“I fear that no amount of wealth will convince him to sell this abode,” Ren replied. “He is a proud man. His pride means more to him than money.”

“We'll see. If he won't sell, perhaps you could come and be with me.”

Ren shook his head. “That would be impossible. I can leave this house for only a few months at a time. Were I to leave for a longer period, I would cease to be.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “Are you one of those ghosts?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you kill someone?”

“No.”

“Did someone kill you?”

Ren nodded.

“Your best friend?”

“To be clear, he did not mean to kill me. I forced him to draw his sword and when I attacked him, I fell upon it.”

“Oh, boy! You
are
anchored here. It would be different if you died of a disease or by your own hand. You could wander wherever you liked. Victims of murder are pretty much trapped.”

“Then we are at an impasse.”

Shayne tapped her bottom lip with her left forefinger. “Maybe, not.”

4

The offices of Charles Lyle, plastic surgeon, were located in Boise, Idaho. They were opulent, well-furnished and well carpeted. Pictures of the smiling doctor adorned several walls and Shayne stared at one of them as she sat in the waiting room. Dr. Lyle had a very large mouth filled with straight, white teeth. She disliked him immediately.

The wait was an arduous one. Lyle seemed to be consulting with the entire city. Shayne's fifteen minute wait turned into nearly two hours. When she finally entered the inner sanctum, it was well past four o'clock.

Lyle smiled at her from across his desk. He motioned toward a chair and she seated herself before him.

“I thought we weren't going to meet,” he began. “Though I am glad that we are.” His glance lingered on her cleavage.

“I had to make an exception. I've run into a bit of a snag.”

“What kind of snag?”

“I can't get rid of him.” she said, leaning back in the chair.

“What do you mean? You said your services were one-hundred-percent effective. Do you mean that everything you have tried has failed?”

“I'm afraid so. He just keeps coming back.”

“Can't you just exorcise him or something?”

“If you want the house to remain standing, I would advise against it.”

“I've paid you good money and you tell me you've failed? This is unacceptable, Ms. Jacobs! Are you trying to get more money out of me?”

“On the contrary, Mr.--”

“Doctor.”

“Excuse me,
Doctor,
I will return your money and then some. I would like to purchase--”

A knock sounded on the door at that moment and Lyle's secretary entered the room.

“I'm sorry, sir, but there is a man outside who says he must see you immediately. He said that if you saw his card, you would understand.”

Lyle frowned and took the card. His expression suddenly brightened as he read it.

“Go ahead and show him in, Lola,” he said. “Please stay here Ms. Jacobs. I'll finish our conversation after I've seen this gentleman.”

Shayne turned and watched the door as the secretary exited. She returned with a tall, distinguished man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He exchanged amenities with Lyle and then took the chair beside Shayne. His smile was contagious, but Shayne remained unaffected.

“I have heard of your troubles, Dr. Lyle,” the man said. “News travels fast in my circles. I hear you need an exorcist.”

Shayne turned to face the man, her eyes wide.

“I am having trouble with a particularly restless spirit,” Lyle said. “Ms. Jacobs here, was supposed to get rid of him for me, but she has failed. She says that an exorcism will destroy the house he is haunting.”

Smythe laughed. “That's impossible! Sure, there will be some damage from the ectoplasm and such, but destroy it? I think Ms. Jacobs is pulling your leg!”

“Now listen here, Mr. Smythe!” Shayne said, leaning toward him. “I've been working in this business for at least fifteen years and I have never heard of you. You don't seem to understand the danger. This isn't a demon you are dealing with. It is a spirit, one who was murdered and is inextricably linked to the home. If you exorcise him, he will take the house with him.”

“That is ridiculous,” Smythe replied. “That myth was disproved several years ago by Dr. Hans Eckler, my mentor.”

Shayne faltered at the name. “You studied under Hans Eckler?”

“I was his assistant. When he retired, I took over.”

Shayne fell back against the chair. The name of the premiere exorcist rendered her speechless.

“I think that solves my problem,” Lyle said. His smile was triumphant. “Ms. Jacobs, will you please return the retainer I gave you? I need it by Monday.”

Shayne nodded. She appeared to be numb.

“You may leave now.”

Shayne rose ignoring Smythe's smile as she hurried from the room.

5

Ren was waiting for her when she entered the house. She did not speak as he took her in his arms. She clutched at him and then pulled away.

“Ren, do you trust me?”

The ghost did not hesitate. “Yes.”

“Lyle hired an exorcist,” she said. “But, I think I can stop him, with your help. But, I need you to do exactly as I ask, and I need you to be invisible to everyone, no matter what may happen.”

“I will do my best, my lady Shayne.”

“Good,” she looked away. “I have to tell you something and I'm afraid.”

He pulled her back into his arms. “Fear not, my love.”

She threw her arms about his neck and buried her face in his chest. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Words trembled there.

“I love you, Ren.”

He squeezed her and whispered into her hair, “My good lady.”

When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “That's just it, Ren. I'm not a very good person at all.”

“Shh.” he said. “Speak not of such things.”

“I haven't told you everything.”

“The past is past.” He changed the subject. “Tell me, how much time do we have before they come?”

“They could come at any time.”

As though on cue, the sound of a vehicle met their ears. Shayne peered out of the window and watched as a silver Ferrari pulled into the driveway. Lyle and Smythe got out.

“They're coming!” she said turning toward the front door. “Remember, stay invisible.”

Ren caught her by the hand and pulled her back.

“Whatever happens, my lady Shayne, know this: I am entirely devoted to you.” He kissed her hand.

She smiled. “I hope you still will be, after this is over.” She hurried away.

Dr. Lyle was frowning when Shayne opened the door. She smiled broadly, happy to cause him any discomfort she could. Smythe stood at Lyle's side, a leather satchel in his hand. There was a twinkle in his eyes and that same contagious smile on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” Lyle snapped.

“Collecting my equipment,” Shayne responded. “I hope you don't mind.”

Lyle ignored the sarcasm in her voice and pushed past her. Smythe followed suit.

“My grandfather had this home moved stone by stone from England in the mid 1920's,” Lyle explained as he entered the foyer. “He bought it from a bankrupt earl, some fellow who spent most of his time at the races.”

“Which room does the ghost spend the most time in?” Smythe asked.

“The master bedroom.”

“You told me he stayed in the study,” Shayne interjected.

“He stays in both places,” Lyle replied.

Ren appeared at her side. Neither Lyle nor Smythe seemed to take notice of him.

“I was killed in the bedroom,” he confessed. “Apparently, Dr. Lyle doesn't appreciate my presence when he is seducing the ladies.”

“You didn't copy any of his technique, did you?” Shayne whispered.

“No,” the ghost replied. “My vow forbade me from such things. Besides, I would not emulate him even if he possessed a technique. I believe Dr. Lyle would find more pleasure if he could make love to himself.”

Shayne stifled a giggle.

They climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom. Smythe stepped in and began to rummage in the satchel. He pulled forth a small bottle of water, a silver cross and some garlic.

“He's a spirit, not a vampire,” Shayne said.

“All of the undead are subject to the power of these objects,” Smythe replied. “Of course, if you were a disciple of Dr. Eckler, you would already know this.”

“I do not like this knave,” Ren said in her ear.

Shayne smiled.

Smythe placed the garlic about his neck and began to pace the room with the cross raised before him. A low chant issued from him as he walked.

Iritspay! Iritspay! Ogay wayaay! Omecay gainaay notheraay ayday!

Shayne covered her mouth as a she shivered with silent laughter.

“That does not sound like Latin,” Ren observed.

“It's the kind that pigs speak, Love.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

Shayne's shivering became more pronounced.

Smythe continued his circuit of the room as Lyle's eyes grew wider and more serious. The exorcist stopped before the surgeon and picking up the bottle, splashed his pants. Shayne buried her face in Ren's shoulder.

“The spirit cannot touch you now,” Smythe proclaimed. He doused his own head with the contents of the bottle. “We are both safe from its anger.”

Ren's mouth dropped open. Shayne's face remained hidden.

“I will now rid the house of this troublesome ghost!” he continued. He walked toward Shayne.

Shayne looked up into the exorcist's eyes. She was not laughing now. Their stares locked. Shayne was the first to back down. Fear shone in her eyes.

“You are the true source of this haunting, Ms. Jacobs,” Smythe said in a low voice.

“No!” Shayne whispered.

“Tell me, Mr. Lyle--”

“
Doctor
Lyle.”