Authors: Karyn Gerrard
“I could not sleep until I got this off my chest. I will not stay long. Let me speak plainly. Glenna has formed an interest in you, and I will not have it. Do not encourage her in any way. Since I am your creator, I demand you leave her alone or you will suffer the consequences.” Reed sniffed in a haughty tone.
Luke could barely contain the fury rising in him. “You did not create me, Professor. I was not assembled from various body parts or given the brain of another man. Doctor Frankenstein you are not. Well, except for this wretched hand.” He clenched his left fist. “You reanimated me. Do not presume to think you have a hold over me. You do not. I am more than capable of reasoning and lucid thought.”
Reed’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. That is what worries me. And what else are you capable of?”
“You should know, scientist. How reckless of you to even undertake this. What drove you to act out your madness? Was it ambition? Did you long for recognition from your peers? Did you yearn for adulation from a grateful public for unlocking the mysteries of death and life? I will not cheer you,” Luke snarled.
“Ambition? I have none,” Reed scoffed.
“Then it is arrogance and stubborn, willful pride,” Luke accused.
“Yes. I was compelled to prove my theory. I would not rest until I had done so. They would not listen to me at university. They mocked me. They laughed at me. I had to know.”
Luke took a step closer. “But you had proved your hypotheses with the cat. That should have put an end to it. But that wasn’t enough for you.”
Reed frowned. “No. It was not.”
“You have crossed a line no human was meant to cross. I stand before you, the living proof of your folly. Let that be a lesson to you. Destroy your notes. Smash the laboratory and turn your back on science once and for all.”
Reed shook his head emphatically. “You ask too much of me.”
“No, Professor. I do not ask enough.”
“Nonetheless, you will heed my warning about Glenna. Stay away from her. For some twisted reason she has romantized you, imagining you a tortured hero from one of her damned fiction novels. Never forget you are incapable of true human feeling. You hurt her? You will cease to exist. I will personally see to it.” Reed marched from the study and slammed the door in his wake.
A hot, boiling rage made Luke’s blood bubble like a witch’s cauldron. How tempting it would be to chase after Reed and show him exactly what he was capable of. But pounding the arrogant scientist to a bloody pulp would only enforce the man’s statement of his being incapable of human feeling or being unable to control his overwrought emotions. Exhaling shakily, he beat back the anger and tried to gain control of himself.
Stay away from Glenna? No. Damn it all, he would not. Not now. How dare Reed make such a declaration? This made him even more determined to explore the passion that flared between them. To hell with the mad scientist and his threats, and to hell with his own thoughts of caution. He paced back and forth for quite some time. Glancing at the clock, he frowned. Half past midnight, had Reed returned to his room? Dare he climb the stairs and return to Glenna?
Damn it all to hell.
After leaving the cellar, he made his way through the main level of the rambling home. All lay in quiet darkness. Silently and with a good deal of stealth, he found himself on the second floor, standing in the hall. No light illuminated from under Reed’s door. But then, it didn’t come from Glenna’s, either. Perhaps she still slept. Maybe she would be angry if he woke her up. Maybe she would dismiss him. The thought made his insides ache in disappointment. About to descend the stairs, his acute hearing caught the sound of water splashing.
Someone was in the bath. Opening the door to Glenna’s room, he found it empty. The flowers lay on her pillow. He imagined her awakening and finding them, smiling as she stroked the petals while thinking of him. The person bathing must be her. Propriety meant he should withdraw and retire to the cellar, but after Reed’s demands that he leave Glenna alone, he decided he would
not
follow those orders. Now standing outside the bathroom door, he reached for the handle and turned. Locked. The room was two doors away from Reed’s. Luke was taking a hell of a chance. “Glenna,” he whispered. “Let me in.”
The splashing ceased. God, what if it was the maid or the housekeeper? He stepped back, ready to make a hasty retreat. The door opened slightly, and when Glenna saw it was him, opened it wider, grasped his shirt sleeve, and pulled him across the threshold before closing and locking the door behind her.
How delectable she looked wrapped in a robe, her golden-brown hair haphazardly pinned up while a few loose tendrils framed her pretty face.
“I lay down and must have fallen asleep. After I woke, I thought you weren’t coming tonight, so I decided I would have a leisurely bath….” She flushed, the high color in her cheeks making her even more attractive and enticing. “I found the wildflowers. Thank you.”
“I am glad you liked them. Please, continue with your bathing.”
“What? I cannot do that with you here…it…no,” Glenna flustered, pulling the robe tighter.
Luke stepped closer, grasping the ties of the robe. “Yes. You can. Allow me to assist you. I promise I will not gawk or touch you if you do not wish it. In fact…” He pointed to the tub. “There are an abundance of suds to hide your modesty. I will turn my back and you can slip into the water.”
“And then what?” Her eyes were wide and questioning, yet they flared with desire. He could clearly see he tempted her. As he suspected, Glenna was a passionate woman.
“I will wash your hair.”
Already he hardened at the anticipation of seeing her lounging amongst the soap bubbles. Glenna gave his suggestion a good deal of thought. Her brows furrowed, and then she nodded. “Very well. Turn your back.”
He did, and became even more aroused when he heard the splashing, imagining the water trickling across her luminescent skin, the foam caressing her curves.
“All right. You may turn around,” she said.
Luke faced her and his breath caught in his throat. Such a sensual sight, her lovely shoulders bare, a hint of cleavage showing through the soapy froth. One leg was bent, the bubbles sluicing down her shapely calf. “You are a vision. Quite beautiful to behold.” How he was tempted to join her. He knew what would happen if he did. The sensual vision filled his mind of him pulling her into his lap, facing him, with her plunging down on his shaft while the water spilled onto the floor with every frenzied thrust.
Last night he had examined his naked body in the full-length mirror. Again, he was in awe of the fact most of the burns and scrapes had healed. Despite the gray shade of his skin, he marveled at the musculature, the splendid way every rugged plane worked in tandem with his movements. Without being conceited, he was what many would consider as well-built. He was tall with broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist and hips. Long, sturdy legs. Even flaccid, his cock was a good length, at least more than those statues in museums. If he chose to be conceited about it, he could admit to possessing a body like of one of those statues of Greek gods.
If only the rest of him was not so abhorrent. With the lights extinguished, a woman could explore his body and become aroused without having to look at his face or the shade of his skin. Or the monstrous left hand. He imagined Glenna touching, licking, and kissing him. Riding him hard. A soft, barely audible groan escaped his lips. Yes, sex between them could be accomplished…in total darkness.
Pushing the erotic and vivid thoughts to the back of his mind, he instead concentrated on removing the pins from her hair in a slow and deliberate fashion. The golden-brown locks fell about her delicate shoulders, the ends touching the soapy water.
Using his right hand, he threaded his fingers through her silken hair, reveling in the softness. “Yes. So beautiful.” He grabbed the pitcher from the nearby shelf, dipped it in the water, then gently poured it over her head. Glenna laid her head back with eyes closed, and he made certain none of the soapy water ran into her eyes.
After her hair was saturated, he set the pitcher on the floor, then without thinking, began to massage her scalp with both hands. Stilling for a moment, she made no protest to having his gloved left hand tangled in her hair, so he continued with the task. With gentle circular motions, he distributed the soap evenly through the thick strands.
“Oh, Luke. That feels so good,” she moaned. A soft sigh escaped her lips. He never thought to hear those words from a woman, and it aroused him further.
“I will do this for you whenever you wish. You have only to ask.”
“I could become quite spoiled.” A large mound of foam floated away, revealing a bare breast, the strawberry-colored nipple taut and erect. God above, she possessed the most glorious, full breasts. The temptation to fasten his lips on her pebbled hardness only increased his own stiffness to the point of pain.
“Luke?”
Devil’s hell, he forgot to continue with washing her hair. She stared up at him while gathering more suds toward her, obscuring his view. “I apologize for leering at you. Close your eyes, and I will rinse out the soap.”
She sat back again, and her eyes fluttered shut. Every touch, every stroke and caress of her hair filled him with a sizzling, fiery heat. They were a woman and a man alone in a bathroom, touching and giving pleasure. Sharing intimacies. Perhaps they would be able to have some sort of normal relationship consisting of friendship but also a vigorous physical one as well. He could love her; he may even be half in love with her now. Surely she could return his feelings. In fact, she did if her passionate kisses were any indication.
Luke made one error. During his hopeful romantic thoughts, he glanced at the nearby wall, and the large oval mirror upon it mocked him. Staring back at him was his scarred, wretched self. For a moment he forgot what he was. Believed he was a normal man or could at least try and live as a normal man. Tried to convince himself his body could be considered attractive enough and that the dark would hide his monstrous looks and scars. Believing the absurd notion that a woman could love him. In truth, Glenna would never love him the way he wanted and needed. And neither would any other woman.
Look at me. Ugly beyond words. Gargoyle.
With a frustrated cry, he reached for the pitcher and threw it against the wall, shattering the mirror.
Glenna’s eyes snapped open at the resounding crash.
Oh my God.
The whole house will be roused. Not two minutes passed and a frantic pounding sounded on the door. Worried voices overlapped.
“Are you all right, miss?”
“Glenna, open this door at once!”
Reed and the maid.
“I am fine,” she called out. “Please go back to bed. Merely an accident.” How to explain? Her mind grasped for some justification that would suit. “I lost my grip on the pitcher, and it flew from my hands and hit the wall, smashing the mirror.” Glenna winced. Rather illogical if one stopped to think about it.
“I demand you open this door,” Reed commanded, his fist continuing with its insistent hammering.
“I am quite naked and covered in soap, Reed. I am sitting in the tub and well away from the broken glass. Truly, I am not injured. The mess can be cleaned up in the morning.” Surely that would satisfy him.
The pounding ceased. “You are quite sure?”
“Yes. Let me finish my bath in peace. I thank you both for your concern, but I am well.”
Glenna could hear the low murmur of voices, then footsteps receding. She exhaled in relief. Only then did she see Luke, his back to her, his shoulders hunched in agony. Glenna scrambled from the tub, forgetting her state of nakedness, and embraced him from behind.
“I…lost control. I am sorry.” His voice sounded ragged and mournful.
“Hush. You cannot smash every mirror in the place, Luke. You must accept how you look and not wallow in self-pity. Promise me you will. Besides, it is not as if you are some malformed gargoyle. Far from it.”
A sharp bark of cynical laughter left him. “Gargoyle. That is exactly what I thought when I glanced in the mirror. An apt description.” Luke slowly nodded. “Yes. I know I must accept it. This is who I am. This is how others see me. Admit the truth. Accept. I will do as you ask.” He turned to face her, his gaze taking in her nudity, the soapy water trailing down her legs and landing in a puddle at her feet. “Regardless, I am the beast to your beauty. We can at least agree on that.” Luke reached for a towel, and with gentle strokes, sopped up the water and soap from her body. When completed, he handed it to her, and she wrapped it around herself.
“In case you do not recall the entirety of the story, Belle, the beauty, chose the beast,” she said, her voice soft with emotion.
Luke gave her a sad smile. “Yes, but then he turned into a handsome prince. No chance of that happening with me. Just stating an obvious fact.”
She cupped his cheek and whispered, “The point of the story is she fell in love with him while he was the beast. His handsome countenance or lack thereof did not even enter into her emotions. Remember that.” Glenna kissed his scarred cheek. “They do not enter into mine, either.”
Luke nodded, then pulled her close, giving her a desperate, crushing embrace. Just as suddenly he pulled back and kissed her hard. Then he broke away and moved toward the door. Laying his ear against it, listening for any movement outside, he opened it and slipped into the hall, then closed it softly behind him.
Glenna clutched the towel tight to her chest. At that moment, her heart tumbled as she fell a little bit more in love with Luke.
* * * *
The shattered shards of glass were swept away, and no further mention was made of the mirror, though Reed eyed her askance more than once. Thankfully, he did not question her about the incident. Not that Glenna gave him a chance. She avoided the cellar and both Reed and Luke. Besides, Reed was doing blood tests on Luke, and who knew what else for the past three days. Instead, Glenna filled her time with the running of the house, something she’d been neglecting as of late.