Eden's Pleasure (Pulse Book 1) (31 page)

“She’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Chase asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his nose into the delicate skin at her earlobe, pecking tiny kisses around to the nape of her neck.

“She is. Why is it hanging here? It deserves to be hung somewhere special.”

“She hung in my apartment in a special spot, but she has since been replaced, so here she’ll stay until I decide where to put her.” He spun Eden around to face him and continued his quest to cover every inch of her face and neck with his lips.

“Did you just get back?” she asked, squirming from his arms. He snatched at her, pulling her sweatshirt in a wrestling match he could have easily won.
He’s playful,
she thought,
his day must have been good.

“I did. I went to see my mom.” He gave up the battle, took hold of her waist in both hands, and lifted her on his hips. Eden wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight as he carried her to the kitchen.

“How is she?” Eden asked. Chase planted her on a stool and sat alongside her, taking her hand in his.

“She’s good. She’s keeping busy with work, social teas with the ladies, and apparently poker night.” He looked at Eden and laughed.

“I’m glad, I like your mom.”

“And she likes you. She asked if we were still friends,
and said to say hello.”

Eden wasn’t sure how she felt about the “friend” thing. It almost didn’t feel like the right choice of words for what they had been sharing, especially after her revelation last night.

“You ok?” he asked, handing her a bottle of water and guzzling down half of his own.

“Yeah, of course, I’m fine.” She wasn’t sure how convincing she had been.

Chase rested his chin on his hand at the counter’s edge. “I have to meet with Mason in a few minutes, so you continue whatever it was you were doing before I so rudely interrupted…then we need to talk, ok, baby?”

Eden nodded and watched him empty the remainder of his water. He tossed it into the recycle bin at the far end of the room, ran his fingers across her chin, smiling, and headed off in the direction of his office.

With a feel of slight panic, her heart jumped into her throat. Surely there wasn’t more bad news, and what was he meeting Mason for? Did they get Jackson? Was Chase finishing with her? Would he reconsider their arrangement? Her head continued to fill with a million possibilities. She decided to continue her tour, seeking a diversion while she waited for the meeting with Mason to end.

At the far corner of the great room, Eden sat on the piano bench studying the two paintings that hung on the wall beside it, obvious originals. They were signed by Gustave Caillebotte. They were fairly simple, nothing overly interesting about them, but she was drawn to them all the same. A man sat playing a piano in one and the other featured two ladies in black sitting together at a piano.

The beautifully polished instrument in front of her sat, closed tightly, with an oversized vase of red roses sitting on it. She ran her fingers along the surface of the closed keyboard, hearing the sound of the keys in her mind, the vibration running through her feet to her chest. She hummed “Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme” with her eyes closed. Her hands smoothed over the shining surface as if she could feel it. A single tear ran down her cheek as she opened her eyes, and Chase caught it on his fingertip.

“Beautiful.”

She had been so lost in the music in her mind, that even his touch hadn’t startled her. He lifted her chin with his wet fingertip and kissed her yearningly.

“You like Rachmaninoff?” he asked in a whisper.

“I do. I love soft, quiet, almost mournful pieces. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Chopin’s Nocturno. Raindrops Prelude Nº4 and Tristesse.”

“Are you sure you never studied music?”

“No. I had a teacher though. Mrs. Roberts. She assigned us projects one year. We had the entire year to write four pages of our ‘feelings’ on a single subject. She assigned classical piano to me. I had no idea where to start. She loaned me a CD player and a dozen CD’s. I listened to them day and night. Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini has always been my favorite because it’s from a love story.” She smiled at the memory. “I wrote ten pages that year and got a B plus.”

“’Somewhere in Time,’ right? It’s a wonderful piece and actually quite easy to learn,” he added.

“Play it for me?” she asked.

“I’ll do you one better via stereo surround sound.” He crossed the room and opened a large cabinet filled with stereo equipment and fiddled around with the buttons until the room filled with the sound of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody.

It sounded wonderful, and if you closed your eyes and pictured the keys being gently caressed, you would think that the piano was actually playing, but she knew differently. She felt like she had been masterfully diverted.

“Nice try, Mr. Dean, but not quite good enough. Why won’t you play for me?” she prodded him dangerously. She remembered his mood when last she asked him to play.

“I told you, I don’t play anymore.” His answer was direct and to the point, like before.

“It’s such a beautiful gift to waste,” she stated, throwing caution to the wind. She softened her voice as the music ended. “I don’t understand.”

“You really need to let it go. I don’t play anymore.” His voice rose. Walking over to the cabinet, he turned the stereo off and closed the doors. “We need to talk, remember? Come.” He was gruff in his tone, putting out his hand to her, and she reluctantly took it.

When they reached the media room, he turned the light to a dim glow and pulled her to the large couch. There was an open bottle of Pinot and two glasses on the coffee table and a large melamine envelope. She looked from the table contents to his face with a furrowed brow.

“Sit,” he told her. She took a seat, but if it was to be another one-syllable conversation, she was going to grow very wary, very fast.

Chase filled the glasses with wine, handing her one. “I get the feeling you’re not very happy here, so I think it’s time to leave.”

He’s ending it
, she thought. She knew this was what he had to talk about. The ache in her chest worsened as seconds of silence past. The need to bolt growing stronger, the pain increased, and her mind spun in circles. The idea of being rejected and thrown out on her ass with nowhere to go was crushing.

How could he do this?
She scrubbed her forehead. With brows knit together, she looked at him angrily. Rage quickly replacing her pain, Eden tightened her jaw, and spoke in a tone that took Chase completely by surprise. “And for this we need a celebratory glass of wine? Look, if you don’t want me here, just tell me. I don’t need a house to fall on me to know I’m not wanted.”

She emptied her glass in one mouthful, slammed it on the table, and stood, turning her back to leave. Chase grabbed her arm, pulling her down into her seat.

“What are you talking about?” He held her down, confused.

“You said you want me to leave.” Eden tried to pull from his grasp as Chase laughed softly, shaking his head.

“No, baby! I don’t want you to go…I worded that all wrong. Look in the envelope.” He let go of her arm once he felt her relax somewhat.

Eden reluctantly took the envelope and slid out a photograph. She knew this photo. She had the same one, or at least she had had a copy, in her desk. “Pleasure,” she whispered. The photo of the 110-foot yacht sailing through rough waters brought a smile to her face. It was beautiful, and Eden had fantasized away many afternoons at work, thinking about sailing around the world without a care.

“How did you know that?” he asked, kind of spooked by her knowledge.

“That picture was in a research file that Mr. Hawthorn gave me when I put the contract bid in. I had a copy of it made and kept it in my desk. She’s quite a vessel.”

“Well, you’re going to be on board her in a week. I made arrangements for a flight to take us to Vancouver. We’ll board her and cruise around the Gulf of Alaska.”

“Oh my god! I’m such a fool. I thought you wanted…I thought…I’m beyond embarrassed.” She snuggled into him, crushing the photo between them.

“You’re not a fool, baby, and don’t be embarrassed. I should have been clearer.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’d be a fool to ever let you go.”

Smoothing out the photo against her chest, she smiled up weakly. “Are we going alone?” she asked, sitting up to talk more easily.

“Mason will be going with us. I don’t go many places without him, and of course, the captain and his crew will be on board.”

“You’re not manning her?”

“No, I can do a lot of things, but manning her alone would be a death wish. She’s a hundred and ten feet long, too large for me. Besides, I wouldn’t have time to tend to your needs.” He eyed her passionately.

She blushed and he kissed her hard. “Don’t ever think for a minute, baby, that I don’t want you right here with me. I have no intentions of getting rid of you, and you’ll have one fuck of a time getting rid of me.”

They shared fevered kisses and fondled each other like horny teenagers, until they were disturbed by the clearing of a husky throat. “Sorry, kids, but I need to talk to you, man.” Mason looked everywhere but directly at them.

“What’s up?” Chase asked, pulling her sweatshirt back down, and separating himself and Eden so he could better hear what Mason had to say.

“Rheanna’s on the loose. She’s been drinking and one of the guards thinks he spotted someone on the grounds just inside the fence line to the northeast. I’m thinking it’s just her,” Mason informed him.

“And?”

Mason shrugged his shoulders. “And the team’s on it. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I thought you should know. I drew all the blinds, and it would be best if you stay away from any windows and doors, just in case.”

“Stay here, Eden. I’ll be right back,” Chase told her as he left with Mason, closing the door behind them.

Eden sat wide-eyed in the dim light, listening intently for any sounds of movement, but it was eerily quiet. Seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes felt like hours. All she could hear was her own breathing and her stomach growl on occasion. They hadn’t eaten and the strong wine lying on her stomach was making it ache.

She couldn’t sit there anymore. The loneliness was making her nervous and frightened. She got up and walked quietly to the door, leaning her ear against it, listening. There was only silence. She turned the door handle slowly, opening it just a crack to peek out. It was dark, and only light from the exterior lighting lit the halls.

As she made her way through the halls to the great room, she remembered Mason’s words that the blinds were closed now, making it terribly dark. A sound like breaking glass came from her right. Her head jolted quickly towards it, but no other sounds followed. She stood frozen. Eden quickly decided to follow her gut and avoid the area where the sound came from. She wasn’t a fool like the victims in horror movies.
Maybe it would be better if I just go back to the media room and wait,
she thought.

Quickly and as quietly as she could manage, she headed back to the media room, opened the door, and rushed in, closing it behind her. She rested against it to catch her breath and calm her nerves. It was so dark. She couldn’t remember it being this dark before. Her hand ran across the wall in search of the light switch, when it came into contact with cold, damp flesh.

Frozen to the spot, praying that it was Chase playing some stupid trick with her, she heard a voice whisper, “D
ollface.”
She took flight, grabbing for the door handle, desperately trying to escape.

His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing while she struggled violently for air and an escape, kicking the door and clawing at his arm. The light turned on dimly as he pulled her away from the door, loosening his hold. He threw her over the back of the couch, sending her tumbling off the front edge. Her forehead made contact with the coffee table, and sent a burning sting through her skull. She cried out in pain, but was met by a hard, red-hot slap across the cheek. Her head whirled in an agonizing fog.

Through clenched teeth, he blasted savage words into her ear. “Not a fucking sound, dollface!” His breath was bitter and reeked of liquor. “Did you miss me, dollface? I’m here to take you home.” He pulled her onto the couch, trying to kiss her mouth, as she turned her face from side to side to avoid him.

He grabbed her hair and yanked it tight in his fist, growling into her face. “It’s time to move before your fancy boyfriend comes looking for you.” He lifted her violently to her feet, gathering her sweatshirt around his fist, and forcing her to the door.

“Don’t do this, Jackson,” she pleaded.

Eden felt something warm trickle just past her eye and wiped it away, looking at her fingers. Her forehead was bleeding. She was dizzy and nauseated, and the throbbing from her head only added to her fears that she was going to die at his hand.

“Jackson, please.”

Shaking her violently, he hissed into her ear. “Shut the fuck up, and you get to live. Make a sound and I slit your fucking throat.” He pulled a knife from his pocket and clicked it open with a flick of his wrist. The edge of the knife glittered in the dim light. The sight of the silver skull on the handle’s end proved that this was the blade that had sliced through her breast. Tears filled her eyes, and she shuddered.

As they moved down the halls, Eden wiped at her open wound. Without Jackson noticing in his haste to get them out, she touched each wall, leaving a trail in hopes that Chase or Mason would see it. They came out a door at the side of the garage, and he pulled her in. She wiped her fingers across the side of Chase’s Audi R8 as one last desperate clue.

The red streak glistened brightly against the car’s powder-blue paint. Eden whispered, “
Save Me Chase
,” as her captor yanked her off her feet and dragged her along the cold, hard concrete.