Celestial Desire (7 page)

“Thank you,” she whispered against his neck sometime later as she lay soft and sated in his arms.

“For what?”

“For letting me … do things.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I think I should be the one thanking you, baby.”

“Did I, you know, do it right?”

Her voice was quiet, her words hesitant. In the darkness, he couldn’t see her, but he could sense that she was holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

“Sweetheart, if you did it any better, I’d be a stain on your carpet.”

She released the breath she was holding slowly; he felt the moist heat of it against his pulse point. “I’m sure it’s obvious, but … this is all new to me. I like that you’re so patient with me. That you don’t make me feel dirty for wanting to try things.”

Zane kept the strokes along her back gentle and easy, but what he really wanted to do was crush her to him. Celeste sounded so vulnerable, it made him ache. “You’re a beautiful, sexy, passionate woman, Celeste. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She hummed and snuggled closer to him. “You make me feel beautiful.”

“You
are
beautiful.”

They lay in silence for a while. “You are only the second man I’ve ever been with.”

Zane paused as those words sank in. He knew Celeste had been somewhat innocent, but he hadn’t realized just how innocent she was. “Your ex-husband was the first, I take it?”

“Yes,” she admitted quietly. He could sense her putting the pieces together. “How much did Mitch tell you?”

“Not much. He said he helped you get a divorce.” He might have said a little more than that but Zane had no wish to lessen her trust in Mitch, nor did he want to admit that after talking with his uncle he’d done a bit of research on his own. Spending two years searching for his own answers had given him plenty of experience; and when everything was a matter of public record, gathering pertinent intel was child’s play.

“Yes,” she confirmed. There was so much pain and fear in that one word, in the way her soft and pliant body tensed at the mere mention of her ex. Zane didn’t want her to feel scared ever again.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Her arms gripped him tighter.

“Celeste, you’re trembling. Talk to me.”

She was silent so long he didn’t think she would, but eventually she sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“How about at the beginning?” he suggested, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How did you two meet?”

In the warmth of his arms, she took a deep, steadying breath. “I was twenty-two when I met James,” Celeste began somewhat unsteadily. “I was working on a joint research project at the university, and was leaving the physics building when something hit me in the side of the head. I lost my balance and fell down the steps.”

“What happened?”

“The biology research facility was next to the physics lab. There were some people there protesting the university’s participation in stem cell research. There were even more Bio majors shouting back. It got pretty heated, then the verbal taunts became physical. Someone threw a rock and it ending up hitting me. Anyway, the next thing I remember, James was leaning over me. He put his jacket beneath my head and wiped away the blood. He looked right into my eyes and told me how sorry he was that I had been caught in the crossfire.”

“I know it sounds pathetic, but no guy had ever looked at me like that before. Like I was a woman, instead of an overweight, geeky introvert. Especially not someone like him. Tall and lean, he was handsome with dark blonde hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous or anything, but he could definitely do a lot better than me. And I thought his eyes were so kind.”

Zane started to say something but she put a finger to his lips. “Please. Let me finish.” Zane kissed her finger and nodded, but made up his mind right then and there that he was going to make it a priority to show Celeste just how beautiful she was, inside and out.

“He wanted to take me to the campus clinic but the police started arriving, and I didn’t want to be caught up in any of that. He offered to walk me home and I said yes.”

Celeste paused to take a deep breath. Her fingers swirled in small, circular patterns over his chest. He waited, guessing what happened next.

“We started seeing each other. He was very attentive. He brought me flowers and candy and took me to nice restaurants and movies. To someone like me who’d never even had a date, it was very flattering. I was so caught up in it that I failed to see the warning signs before it was too late.”

Another pause. It was an effort not to tighten his grip and pull her closer. Instead, he continued to stroke and pet, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. He wanted to think he was doing it all for her but the truth was, he needed the contact, too.

“James was very religious, you see. At the time, I thought that was a good thing. I mean, he had a strength of conviction I found admirable, and a clear sense of right and wrong. I didn’t agree with everything he said, but I was too afraid he’d leave if I dared to say so, so I remained quiet. He took that as agreement, I guess. But I definitely didn’t share his unshakable faith in so-called ‘men of God’, and I guess that showed through easily enough. He took it upon himself to ‘bring me into the light’, as he would say.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

“Oh, of course I do. You can’t study math and physics to any degree and
not
believe in a higher power. But I was never sold on organized religion; I considered myself more of a Deist, really. James took that as a challenge, I think.”

“It was great at first. Everyone was so friendly. He took me along to church picnics and on bus trips. I felt like I was part of a big, wonderful community. For the first time in my life, I had lots of friends, people who cared about me. Or so I thought.”

“Things changed the moment we got home from the wedding. Gone was the sweet man who had courted me for a year. He demanded that I quit my job and end all ties with what he deemed the ‘faithless university’. I was to stay home and cook and clean and raise our children like a dutiful wife.”

She sniffed, and took a breath to steady herself. “Even our wedding night was a disaster. It hurt so much. James was brutal. He yelled at me for crying, telling me that sex was only for procreation, that only whores and sinners could find pleasure in it.”

“He lost his patience so easily, and nothing I did was right. Yelling at me wasn’t doing the trick, so he took his belt to me, saying that a woman’s obedience in all things was holy and necessary in a good marriage. He had me believing that my unhappiness was all my fault, that I was resisting the will of God. It was a test, he said. That once I embraced my faith everything would be all right. But what he really meant was that I had to embrace his beliefs and those of his so-called church, a group of zealots who hid their fanaticism beneath layers of socially acceptable Christian values.”

Her breath hitched. “It sounds so obvious now; James had fooled me right along with everyone else. I can’t believe I was so pathetic…”

Zane hummed slightly in disagreement, but knew Celeste had to continue, that the worst was yet to come.

“Then one day, while James was at work, a pipe burst in the kitchen. I was too afraid to bother him at the office, and I knew he would be livid if he came home to a mess, so I called a plumber. The guy was just leaving when James came home. James saw him and misunderstood; he thought that I was having an affair.”

“He beat me that night. Badly. So badly that he got scared and called the ambulance. He told them I fell down the steps. They didn’t believe him, though, and when I woke up I told them what happened. All of it. The police arrested James, but his church group – those people I once thought were my friends - posted bail and he was free in just a couple of hours. I don’t know what he told them, but James is a born manipulator and a consummate actor. They have no idea what he’s really capable of…”

“Anyway, he begged me to forgive him, swore that it would never happen again, but I knew better. That kind, caring man I thought he was, was gone and I’d glimpsed the monster inside him. That’s when things really got nasty. He wasn’t content to terrorize just me. He started going after my mother, the people I used to work with, even the doctors and nurses who took care of me in the hospital. He was always smart about it, though. No one could prove anything. Some of my mother’s friends helped her pack up and move and they sent me into hiding until the trial.”

Celeste took a deep, fortifying breath. “I filed for divorce but James contested it, saying that no man could undo a vow made before God. He got one of the lawyers in his congregation to tie things up in a mess of red tape. I lived in constant fear; afraid to go anywhere, certain he would find me. I couldn’t get a job or make friends or even use my credit cards. Eventually he went to trial for beating me and he was convicted. But I know he’ll come looking for me when he gets out. And next time, he’ll make sure I can’t run away.”

Like Hell
, Zane thought. Any prior doubts he’d had about being there for Celeste flew right out the window. He still couldn’t bring himself to tell her, though. Especially not when she would probably perceive it as a purely emotional response to what she had just told him.

Yeah, he was as affected as hell, but that wasn’t the real reason he planned on sticking around. Part of him had realized that he was falling in love with her, and he was only now being honest enough with himself to recognize it. But again, this was not the ideal time to announce it. So instead he asked, “Isn’t there a restraining order?”

“That won’t stop James,” she said quietly. “Nothing will.”
 

* * *
 

Nearly three thousand miles away, James Bradley tried to look repentant as he silently offered thanks for bleeding hearts, overcrowded prisons and the quiet but strong presence of God-fearing Christians in key positions throughout the penal system. After serving only six months of a much longer term, he found himself before a parole board being considered for early release.

He’d been a model prisoner, after all. Both his well-paid therapist and the court-appointed psychiatrist were convinced that his horrific behavior had been a one-time aberration on an otherwise spotless record: Four-point-O student, honest business man, pillar of the community, and patriot, driven to a minor breakdown when he heard malicious rumors that the love of his life had desecrated their vows.

Of course what he had done was unforgivable, he stressed to their doubtful faces. He understood that. He agreed to abide by all terms of the restraining order, asking only that he be allowed to pay for all of Celeste’s medical and legal expenses – through a third party, of course.

After a mere twenty minutes of deliberation, James Bradley was handed his personal effects and escorted to the exit where a cab awaited him.

Twenty hours and several discreet phone calls later, he was on a plane to California.
 

Celeste flipped up the magnifying lenses of her special glasses and carefully set down the new circuit board with a sigh. Ever since her soulful confession a week ago, the bond between her and Zane had grown stronger. They still had mind-blowing, epic sex, but now he spent hours making sweet, passionate love to her, too. And no matter what they did, she couldn’t manage to make herself feel bad about it. What they shared was nothing less than beautiful.

She heard the telltale ding, letting her know a new message had arrived in her inbox. It was at least the dozenth time it had done so in the last half hour, all business-related. She sighed, wishing she wasn’t quite so eager, but she hadn’t heard from Zane since he’d left hours earlier. Her lips – the ones on her face and the ones between her legs – tingled in remembrance of his very creative method of wishing her a good morning.

You really should play a little harder to get
, she chastised herself when her heart thumped excitedly against her rib cage, spotting the email from Zane. Then again, it was email and he couldn’t actually see her doing an excited little happy dance. She could read the message now, she rationalized, then not respond for a while so she didn’t appear the pathetic crushing adolescent she’d somehow become.

Hey, beautiful. Check your mobile, sexy genius. I think it needs charging; my calls are going straight to vmail.

Celeste was thrilled that he’d been trying to call her and was not, in fact, growing bored with her and blowing her off as her splintered self-esteem insisted. Instantly abandoning her missive to appear less eager, she tapped out a reply, reasoning that it didn’t really matter. After everything she’d told him, he was still interested when anyone else would have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Sorry. I forgot.

She could hear him chuckling in her mind, affectionately commenting about how she always seemed to forget the little everyday things. He’d reminded her to charge her phone before he left, but then he’d started nibbling beneath her jaw…

A soft ding jolted her back to the present.
They say great sex can negatively affect short-term memory
.

She grinned at the screen as she typed her reply.
You don’t seem to be having an issue. Should I take offense?

Definitely not. I was almost to my bike before I realized I forgot to put pants on.

Celeste laughed out loud in an uncharacteristic fit of giggles. Zane had that effect on her.

As if he could see her, Zane’s next message arrived quickly.
Stop laughing and start getting ready. Loose, cool clothing and comfortable shoes.

Anticipation bubbled through her like champagne, tickling and tingling.
Where are we going?

It’s a surprise. I’ll be there in an hour.

Celeste didn’t bother suppressing her squeal of delight. After all, nobody was around to hear it. Zane had been full of surprises these past few weeks. He had taken her bucket list to heart. She had her tattoo and her navel piercing. Had ridden multiple times on his Harley. Gone to a zoo where they’d visited the reptile house and she’d actually
held
a python across her shoulders.

One by one he was making her dreams come true; she never knew what he was going to surprise her with next.

She pulled out her list and smoothed it on the table. Only a few things remained: skinny dipping, Disneyland, and adopting a pet.

Her whole body tingled with anticipation. She changed into shorts and a tank, pulling on super-comfy walking shoes, sighing when she realized it had taken less than five minutes.
Only fifty-five to go
.

Celeste settled down in front of the partially-built laptop again and began adding additional ports (like electrical outlets, you could never have too many USBs, she thought). When that was done, she checked her email again, even though she hadn’t heard a ding.

Unable to stop herself, she re-opened Zane’s most recent email chain and grinned. She’d show him. She dug the mobile out from under a series of components, verified that it was, in fact, dead, and then plugged it in. It would take a couple of hours to fully charge, but she didn’t really need her phone if she was with Zane.

Another twenty minutes passed, feeling more like twenty hours. She added a few memory chips to another system. Kicked off a few custom installs of her patent-pending firewall programs. Did trivial things that didn’t require much concentration, too excited to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time while she waited.

A mere thirty-five minutes after Zane’s last email, she heard her front door opening. Excitedly, she took a minute to pull her hair into a quick clip and apply a fresh coat of gloss to her lips.

“Hello, Celeste,” said an unexpected voice from behind her, freezing her instantly. “Did you miss me?”
 

* * *
 

              Zane berated himself for telling Celeste to be ready in an hour. He thought it would take him longer to finish up all the schematics for his latest system but the thought of seeing Celeste again was a powerful motivator. He briefly considered taking the bike – he loved the way she wrapped herself around him when they rode – but opted for the Shelby instead.

Ten minutes early, but unable to wait any longer, Zane rang Celeste’s doorbell several times before remembering that it wasn’t working properly, chuckling again about her absentmindedness about such things and making a mental note to check it out for her later. He lifted his hand and gave a series of sharp raps against the door instead.

When nearly a minute went by without her answering, he knocked again, louder this time. He leaned his ear against the door, and could just barely hear the faint sounds of music from within. He smiled when he realized it was the CD he’d burned for her, a collection of classical pieces redone by heavy metal and hard rock artists that she absolutely loved. She said the music helped her focus.

He chuckled. She was brilliant and sexy, but she was also messy and adorably clueless at times. She had probably lost track of time and was deeply immersed in some computer program. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Or maybe she was taking a well-deserved nap. He had kept her up most of the night, but he couldn’t summon any regret over that. It was getting harder and harder to leave her in the morning; all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms until she felt safe and wanted and yes, loved.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key she’d given him. It was a remarkable show of trust on her part, giving him access to her anytime. She’d brushed it off, saying that with his knowledge of security he could get into her place anytime he wanted anyway. It was the truth, but still, her faith in him was humbling.

Amusement quickly morphed into concern when Zane inserted the key and found it already unlocked. Why was her door unlocked? He’d stood in this very spot only a few hours earlier, waiting until he heard the locks engage before he left to go back to his place. It was something he always did, since he knew she had a tendency to forget things like that.

The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened the moment he stepped into the entryway. Something was wrong; he felt it in his bones.

Zane made a quick and thorough search of her condo. A half-full mug of coffee sat on the counter, still slightly warm. Computers in various stages of construction littered every available surface in the living areas, lights blinking and screens moving as unintelligible computer code scrolled by page after page. The soft scent of Celeste’s preferred body mist – soy and honey – hung faintly in the air.

Nothing was out of place. Except Celeste. She wasn’t there. Where the hell was she?

Zane pulled out his mobile and thumbed a key. The muted sound of her ringtone reached him; he found the device charging on her desk beneath a box of labeled flash drives. Picking it up, he felt no compunction whatsoever invading her privacy.

There were several missed calls, most from him. But there was one number he didn’t recognize. He pressed the button that connected him directly to her voicemail, skipping over the ones from him until he got to the one he wanted.

“Mrs. Bradley, this is Carl Harmon, warden of the Stratford County Pennsylvania State Correctional Facility. It is my duty to inform you that two days ago, James Bradley was released from our facility. He failed to make the mandatory check-in with his parole officer this morning. If he violates the terms of the restraining order against him and attempts to contact you in any manner, please call this number immediately….”

Forcing himself to remain calm, Zane called Jessica, hoping beyond hope that Celeste had simply stopped over there for a quick visit. She hadn’t. Then he called his uncle and the police and made a quick sweep of the grounds, only to confirm what his gut already knew: Celeste was gone.

With Mitch’s connections, it only took a few phone calls to verify that less than a day after being released from prison, James Bradley paid cash for a one-way ticket from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to LA. The warden was notified. Because Bradley violated the terms of his parole and had left the state, several other agencies were notified as well, but it was too late. Bradley’s plane had landed on schedule the prior evening, where he had walked out of the airport and simply vanished.