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Authors: Lexi Post

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BOOK: PassionsPoison
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Bea smirked. “Let’s say better than expected.”

“Seriously?” Kayla sat on the desk. “Okay, I want all the
juicy details.”

Bea glanced around before she lowered her voice. “Oh, it was
juicy all right.”

Kayla hit the desk with her hand. “I can’t wait. I have to
relieve Gary at the front, but as soon as the checkout rush is over, I want
coffee and a story.”

Bea nodded as Kayla jumped off the desk. “You’ve got it.”

Bea pondered her petite blonde friend as she left. Kayla’s
advice the other night had been helpful. If it hadn’t been for her, Bea would
have told Zach she would drive them to her mom’s house. That could have been
embarrassing. He had obviously expected to drive. It hadn’t occurred to her to
let a man drive since she’d never had a man to go anywhere with. And the
evening wouldn’t have been so enjoyable either if not for Kayla’s hints on
dating.

Picking up the phone, Bea called her grandmother who lived
in the town next door and arranged to see her during her lunch break. She
didn’t feel comfortable spending another evening with Zach unless she could
learn what the ramifications might be. She looked at her desk calendar. It had
been one week since her last one-night stand, and she’d expelled poisons once
this week, so she should be fine for a few days. If she and Zach could make
love without him becoming ill, she might have a chance at a relationship.

Her stomach fluttered as hope rose strong and fierce. It had
been such a unique experience falling asleep with him. The whole relationship
process itself was new, but to go through it with a hunky, kind man was
absolute heaven.

The phone rang, jolting her from her daydream. She answered.
“Lakeside Inn, Beatrice Rappaccini speaking.”

“Hi, Bea, it’s Phillip. How are you?”

Her pleasant mood evaporated. Phillip never called her. He
spoke to her mother all the time, but not her. On her guard, she went into
professional mode. “I’m fine, how are you?”

His tenor voice came through screechy. “I’m really great.
Listen, I’m heading back to Massachusetts the day after tomorrow from here at
Maine General Hospital and was wondering if you could meet me for lunch. I’ve
made an amazing discovery that I have to share with you.”

Bea swallowed. “Me?”

He sounded breathless. “Yes. In fact, you’re the only one I
can share it with, except maybe your mom.”

Huh? “I don’t know, Phillip. Kayla has the day off and—”

He became impatient. “Come on, Bea, this is important. More
important than work.”

Ah, now that was the Phillip she remembered—spoiled. But it
had to be serious. She hadn’t seen him in four years and that time only because
she’d dropped by unannounced while he visited her mom. Maybe he wanted to tell
her he’d found the future Mrs. Phillip Sutton. That would be great. “Okay, I’d
be happy to have lunch with you. Can you give me a hint? Is it good news or
bad?”

She could imagine his boyish grin as he spoke. “Definitely
good. I’ll see you around noon.”

Bea stared at the phone after she hung up. She hoped
Phillip’s good news had to do with a girlfriend or fiancée. Maybe he wanted to
bring her so they could meet. Maybe he wanted Bea’s seal of approval. Phillip
would need that.

She breathed easier. How wonderful if that were the case.
Worst case could be he had made a great scientific breakthrough for the
pharmaceutical company he worked for and was given a promotion. Either way, it
shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

Kayla bounced back into the office. “Okay, spill.”

With Phillip on her mind, Bea blinked as she focused on
Kayla. Then she remembered Zach and laughed. “Hold on. Let’s go sit where we
can see the front. Craig would have our heads if a customer came in and waited
more than five seconds.”

Kayla gave her a little pout, but moved to the opening that
led to the front. “Okay, how’d he do with your mom and her usual marijuana
lasagna?”

Bea chuckled and related the switch in menu from a drugged
dinner to a drugged dessert. “Then we skidded on black ice and the next thing I
know I’m giving him a blowjob.”

Kayla licked her lips. “Is he hung?”

“Oh yes, and he doesn’t wear underwear.”

Kayla wiggled her eyebrows. “A man after my own heart.”

“Yeah, but then Officer Chris came upon us, so I had to
stop.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Did he catch you at it?”

Bea shook her head. “No, but it made Zach so hard we went
right back to my place.”

Kayla glanced toward the front, then back at Bea. “And?”

Her body flushed with heat. She lowered her voice. “He tied
my hands to the headboard and had his way with me.”

Kayla breathed, “No.”

“Yes, and I loved it. He became possessive all of a sudden.
I think it was Chris’ doing. Zach is a fantastic lover. Have you ever done
anything like that?”

Kayla nodded wisely. “Yes, and I know exactly what you mean.
I don’t think there is anything I’ve tried that I haven’t enjoyed except—”

Bea leaned forward. “Except what?”

“Wax. I don’t like the dripping-hot-wax stuff.”

Bea sat back. “What about in your ass, or threesomes, or
being watched, or total bondage? Have you tried those and liked them?”

Kayla’s smirk was seductive and secretive.

Bea found herself reacting to the image of Kayla doing
unique sexual activities. Heat traveled through her body.

Kayla glanced out front. “Oh shoot, be right back.”

Bea took a deep breath. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t
as if she’d never heard of the many variations of sexual acts. She’d simply not
been interested before. Besides, she couldn’t have indulged unless it had been
a threesome with two men, and with a one-night stand that would have been too
risky. Her need to expel poisons made sex a necessity, not an experiment. Now
her body heated just thinking about the many forms of kink Kayla may have
experienced. Bea hoped Zach hadn’t created a monster. She didn’t want to hurt
him.

What was she thinking? She could control her interest in
kinky sex. It was the release of her poisons she had no choice with. That
always drove her before, but now— The idea of going back to one-night stands
after having Zach cooled her blood.

Kayla came back in. “So. Where were we?”

Bea eyed her shrewdly. “You were about to tell me everything
regarding your very satisfying sexual perversions, in detail.”

Chapter Seven

 

A few minutes late as usual, Bea waited in the lobby of the Evergreen
Retirement Community. She could blame her tardiness on the hotel shuttle
driver, but that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, her grandmother would make her sit
for several minutes before calling her up to the apartment no matter what the
reason. Grandma Beatrice was seventy-six and believed tardiness was a lack of
respect, so Bea’s constant lateness bothered her namesake.

The receptionist broke into Bea’s musings. “You can go up
now, Ms. Rappaccini.”

Bea took the elevator to the third floor of the nicely appointed
building and knocked on the door sporting a stained-glass sign that read
Beatrice
Rappaccini
.

That very lady opened the door and gave her a warm hug. “Ah,
my Bea, come on in, sweetie. Sit. Sit. I’ll make us some tea and we can have
these lovely Girl Scout cookies I bought from Mrs. Giuseppe’s granddaughter.”

Bea followed her dainty grandmother to the small kitchen
table. “I didn’t have a chance to order any this year. Did you buy any Trefoils
or Thin Mints?”

The older woman placed her hands on her hips. “Of course.
Why buy Girls Scout cookies if not to get at least those two?”

Bea waited as her grandmother set the teapot on the stove
and pulled teacups from the cabinet. Grandma Beatrice was a small woman with
long white hair caught back in a bun, but her eyes always twinkled with
amusement, sometimes at herself and sometimes at others.

“Here you go, dear. Have as many as you want. I bought a
dozen boxes.”

Bea widened her eyes as she pulled the Thin Mints toward
her. “Really? Are you trying to gain weight?”

Her grandmother looked over her shoulder. “Don’t get sassy
with me, now. I bought them so I had something for my company.”

Bea smirked. “So, who is he this week, Gram?”

Grandma poured the water into the cups and brought them to
the table. She winked at Bea. “His name is Randal, but I like to call him
Randy, if you know what I mean.”

Bea’s spoon clattered back into the sugar bowl. “Grandma.”

Grandma sat and reached for the Trefoils. “Honey, I’m old.
I’m not dead.”

Bea chuckled and took a sip of warm, sweet tea.

After her grandmother added cream and sugar in her own, she
dunked a cookie. “So, honey, what’s the matter?”

Her grandmother knew how to get to the point. Okay, so could
she. “I think I’ve found Mr. Right.”

Grandma stopped in mid-chew and swallowed. “Bea, really?”

“I think so, but I’m so afraid I’ll hurt him. I realized
this morning that I have no idea how much is too much for a man to take. I’ve
never been around them after… Uh, you know.”

Grandma nodded. “After sex? Yes, unfortunately, it’s different
for different men. I had one man who could make love with me twice a week and
not feel bad at all, but I also had another who became ill after just one
time.”

Bea’s hopes dwindled. “How do they get sick? Do they vomit,
have headaches, pass out? I have no idea what to expect for Zach.”

Chewing her cookie, her grandma thought for a moment. “It’s
a lot like a virus with cramping, sometimes vomiting, generally diarrhea and
often a headache. Those who are sensitive pass out. I think your first boyfriend
did that, didn’t he?”

“Yes, we were teenagers and Mom hadn’t told me, so we had
sex every chance we could for a week. He went into a coma.”

Grandma Beatrice patted her hand. “Yes, I remember. Your
mother should have told you as soon as you started your monthly cycles.”

Bea sighed. “So, I guess what you’re saying is, I have to
experiment. I was hoping for something a little more definitive.”

Grandma shook her head. “Honey, even if I could tell you
exactly how a man could handle it, each of our generations is different. My
experience is based on a higher level of poison in my system than you have in
yours.”

“I know. And mom has less than you. She keeps reminding me
of how little poison I have. Sometimes she gives me the shivers. Sorry, Gram,
but it’s as if she has me in a competition and she’ll do anything to see me
married in order for her to win. I already know I’ve disappointed her by not
having a child yet.”

Grandma pointed her finger. “You listen carefully, child.
Though she is my daughter, your mother has a tendency to get her priorities
mixed up but it’s not her fault, it’s her genes. And she’s not the first in our
line to have moral issues.”

Bea set down her teacup. “Wait a minute, what do you mean?”

Grandma dunked another cookie in her tea and let it melt in
her mouth before answering. “I wasn’t sure you noticed, so I didn’t say
anything before, but now that your instincts have kicked in, you need to know
the truth.”

Oh boy, this didn’t sound good. “What?”

Her grandmother leaned forward. “Just as every other
generation of Rappaccini daughters is named Beatrice and the others after a
flower, those with flower names have inherited a bit of Giacomo’s insanity.”

Bea’s Thin Mint broke. Did that mean if she had a child, the
child would be odd and have moral issues? Her dreams crumbled like her cookie.
“Are you sure? Is this an actual fact?”

Grandma shrugged. “It’s a genetic phenomenon. But just as
Giacomo’s flowers were deadly poisonous, so too are the flower children a bit
off.” Her grandmother tilted her head to the side to punctuate her point. “But
like us, each generation gets closer to being normal. Your mom was the best of
all of them, but you need to be wary.”

Bea shook her head, unable to accept the new information.
“Mom may be a little strange, but don’t you think calling her insane a bit
overboard?”

Grandmother Beatrice sat back and pierced Bea with her
stare. “No, it’s not. When the original Beatrice died, her father Giacomo hated
all men. Lily, Beatrice’s daughter, slowly poisoned her own mate with Giacomo’s
help. But then Giacomo died and Lily’s daughter Beatrice died young, after
giving birth to Violet, the Black Widow. As a paid whore, she had sex with men
until they died. My grandmother Beatrice tried to raise my mother Rose with a
full understanding of our situation, but my mother fell in with the wrong crowd
and became a pinup girl. Like Giacomo’s flowers, she was beautiful, but deadly.
When the artist she posed for was discovered dead, they charged her with
murder. She died in jail as you know. They said she poisoned herself, but
without multiple men to release her toxins, she couldn’t survive.”

Despite her dashed dreams, Bea noticed the flicker of pain
that crossed her grandmother’s face. Quickly, she rose and sat next to her.
“I’m so sorry. I always thought Great-grandma Rose had an exciting life.”

Grandma Beatrice tried to smile, but didn’t quite make it.
“My mother tried not to kill anyone, but the more popular she became, the more
popular she needed to be. Sleeping with the artist set was an easy way for her
to be liked. Her need was too great, and they were a dangerous crowd. She
always felt unworthy and cursed.”

Bea mumbled, “We are cursed.”

Her grandmother’s hand shot out and grabbed her chin. “No,
child. We are not cursed. We are blessed. We have survived from generation to
generation, bringing forth one daughter to carry on, and soon, the poisons will
be gone. I hope to see a great-granddaughter from you.”

Grandma let Bea’s chin go and squeezed her hand. “If you do,
I will be the first of our line to experience such happiness. We must focus on
what we have gained, our small triumphs, not on a past we cannot change.”

Her grandmother patted her cheek and rose. “I think I need
another cup of tea. How about you?”

Bea glanced at the clock. She should be back at work, but
this was far too important. She nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

As her grandmother put the water on to boil, Bea wandered
around the small one-bedroom living area. She found the picture she remembered
in a pewter frame. Her great-grandmother Rose stood next to a Bentley of the
period with Grandma Beatrice as a teenager. They could have passed for sisters.
Next to that photo stood a picture of Grandma with Mom. Mom wore a mini-dress
and white knee-high Go-Go boots at the age of five. Bea had always liked the
cute picture, but it took on more meaning now. Actually, the whole hippie
lifestyle finally made sense. Her mom could function best within that culture.

“Come over and make your tea, honey.” Grandma motioned to
the table.

Bea sat and took her tea bag from the darkened water. “So
where does Mom fit in with all this?”

Grandma looked tired. “Your mom has tried very hard to do
what is right, but her nature makes it hard. The sixties came at the perfect
time for
me
. It made it easy to hide my many partners under the spirit
of free love. Your mom resented that. She became a self-proclaimed hippie long
after we had melded back into society. Luckily, there were other hangers-on. It
has worked well for her.”

Grandma sipped her tea. Then she wrapped up the cookies and
stuffed them back in their box. “Susan has her good qualities, which is more
than I can say for Lily or Violet. But there is a selfish streak in her. She
wants to see you married. She wants to be the one to have the daughter who
broke the mold and nabbed the first husband. It’s not so bad, but she’ll do
anything to make that happen.”

Realization struck and Bea shivered. “No wonder she lost it
when I said I was going to try in vitro fertilization. It’s not about my having
a child. She wants me married.”

Grandma nodded. “Yes. She called me the day you told her
that, ranting and raving ’til I couldn’t understand what she said. She hung up
and I began to worry. I thought I would hear from you sooner rather than later,
but never expected to hear such wonderful news.”

Bea smiled. She couldn’t help it. When she thought of Zach,
her whole family history of craziness and poison dimmed. “Oh, Grandma, he is
special.”

Her grandmother took another sip of tea. “Special is good.
So, is he well-hung?”

“Grandma!”

* * * * *

Bea rubbed her eyes. The liquor inventory didn’t add up. She
needed it to balance before she left for the day, but it was almost seven and
Zach would be hungry by now. Maybe she should go.

Kayla walked in. “You still here?”

Bea shook her head. “No, I’m just a figment of your
imagination.”

Grinning, Kayla leaned against the wall. “Well, get out of
my imagination. I have better things to think about, like going home. I’m off
tomorrow and I plan on sleeping most of the day away.”

“That sounds great. I have to work.”

Kayla sauntered over to the desk. “I almost forgot. While
you were at lunch, this came for you.”

Bea looked at the envelope with “To Bea Rappaccini” typed
across the outside. She shivered. “Where did you get this?”

Kayla’s brow furrowed. “It was left at the front desk. I’m
not sure who dropped it off because I was busy with a shuttle of check-ins.
Why? What’s wrong?”

Bea shook her head. “Nothing, I guess. But personally
delivered mail isn’t exactly a common occurrence.”

Kayla leaned on the desk. “Well, open it up. See if it’s
anything important.”

Bea hesitated, but she needed to know. She sliced the
envelope with the letter opener and took out a single piece of paper. It had
one line.

Are you going to kill him?

Bea crumpled the paper in her grip as her stomached followed
suit and her breath lodged in her throat. The letter writer knew about her and
Zach. She took a furtive glance around the room, as if she might spot someone
watching her.

Kayla tried to sneak a peek. “What’s it say?”

Bea stuffed the letter into her purse. “Not much and it
isn’t signed.”

Kayla stood back. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Bea sighed. “No, not yet. This is the second one of these
I’ve received. They’re strange. Do me a favor, if another one comes, look to
see who drops it off, okay?”

“Sure. But do you need to call the cops? Are they
threatening?”

Bea thought of Chris. Maybe she should ask for his help on
this, at least with the first one. “Not really. It could be just a friend
playing games. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Kayla turned away. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I’m out
of here anyway. See you on Tuesday.”

Bea nodded as Kayla disappeared around the corner. Someone
knew. There was no other explanation. Someone knew about her poisons and the
threat they posed to Zach. Oh God, Zach.

Springing from the chair, she grabbed her coat and headed
out the door. She had to see him, make sure he felt better. The inventory could
wait.

The cold temperature outside brought her up short. Oh damn.
She didn’t have her car. Running down the hill as best she could in heels, she
pulled her gloves on, her fast breaths making patches of moisture in the air.
Would it ever be spring? At this rate, Zach would have the carving done long
before the ice melted on the lake. At least he would if she could leave him
alone to work on it.

She took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the
second floor, she put the key into her door and turned the knob.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Her breath caught at the sound of his low voice, but her
heart almost stopped at the sight of him. He had a significant shadow on his
chin from a lack of shaving and the color had returned to his face.

Zach stepped up to her and cupped her frozen cheeks in his
hands. His grin faded. “You’re too cold. You should have called me. Now I need
to warm you up.”

Bea didn’t have a chance to disagree as his lips descended
on hers. Her purse dropped to the floor and she leaned her body into his.
Insulated by the layers of clothes between them, she groaned with frustration.

He stepped back. “Hungry?”

“For you.”

BOOK: PassionsPoison
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