Haunting Ellie (22 page)

The man was totally infuriating, but he felt so good, and that made up for a multitude of sins. Pressing her hands against his chest, she slid them slowly to his neck and wove her fingers into his hair. “Four o’clock. Your place.” She kissed him, slow and easy. “Who’s cooking?” she purred. “You or me?”

“Hopefully we’ll do it together.”

“You’re home early.”

The voice came from the top of the stairs right after Elizabeth stepped into the foyer and closed the door. She raised her eyes and there he was—Alexander Stewart, looking just as he had on his infamous wedding day.

She slipped off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door, then tucked her gloves into the pockets. Brushing the light sprinkling of snow from her hair, she inched her way up the stairs… toward the ghost.

“When I saw you smooching up with that big oaf,
" Alexander said, arms folded crossly over his chest, “I thought for sure you were gonna back out on your promise.”

She’d never wanted to back out on a promise so much in her life, but she had tomorrow at four o’clock to look forward to. Spending the evening talking with Alexander Stewart didn’t seem like a total imposition.
Besides, she wanted to know more. She’d been fascinated by the few things she'd heard about Alexander's despicable past; hearing Alexander’s side of the story promised to be just another highlight to a perfect evening.

“For your information,
” she said, “I turned down a wonderful
invitation from that big oaf to spend time with you.”

“I’ve
watched him ogle you. I can well imagine what kind of invite you got from that lecherous lout—probably didn’t have anything at all to do with a buggy ride after church, either.”

“Things have changed in a hundred years.”

“And not for the better!”

Elizabeth laughed as he walked at her side, his hands behind his back, until they reached her bedroom door. “I’m going to change first. Maybe climb into bed and get comfortable.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Elizabeth stepped into her bedroom and stopped short when Alexander followed. “What are you doing?”

“Following. I do it quite well, especially when no one can see me.”

It was Elizabeth's turn to fold
her arms across her chest. She and stared him down. “Let’s get something straight right this moment, Mr. Stewart. This room is off-limits while I’m dressing. I don’t want you anywhere around, visible or invisible. Have I made myself clear?”

He shrugged.

“Do you want my help, or not? ”

He sighed heavily, the
puff of breath striking her face like a blast arctic air. “I do. And yes, you've made yourself perfectly clear.”

Alex disappeared, and Elizabeth shut the door.

With Alex out of the way, at least for the moment—she hoped—she stripped out of her clothing and slipped into a red satin and lace negligee. Eric had told her several times to buy thermal underwear and flannel nightgowns to fight the cold Montana winter, but no way was she going to be bound up tight when she slept. She liked the feel of satin and lace, and if she was going to be bound
up tight, it would be with a man, not with too many layers of nightwear.

She slid under the covers and drew them to her chin. Closing her eyes, she thought of Jon’s kiss and how it had been more than worth the weeks of frustrating wait.
She thought of the fragrance he wore. What was it? Obsession? Maybe something as masculine and old-fashioned as Old Spice? The fragrance had been on his skin when he’d kissed her, it was in every room where he’d worked in the hotel, and it was so fresh and vivid in her memory that with her eyes closed, she felt he was near.

“He’ll hurt you, you know.”

Elizabeth's fingers tightened around the sheet. Alexander’s sudden, unexpected intrusions were going to be the death of her. “If you're talking about Jon Winchester, you're wrong.”

“
I'm right. Mark my words.”

Elizabeth shook her head. Jon would never hurt her. They’d shared something new and special today. They’d talked, they’d held each other, they’d kissed, and she sensed that each new day would bring something even more special. No, Jon would never hurt her.

She pulled the covers close to her chin and scooted up into the pillows. Slowly, a frown crossed her face as she looked at the door and back to the man standing at the edge of her bed. She hadn’t heard him come in. She hadn’t seen him walk across the room. He’d just appeared—from nowhere. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to stay out.”

“You told me to stay out while you were dressing and since you failed to let me know when you’d finished, I came in to check for myself.”

“When?”

‘When what?”

“When did you come in? Was I dressed?”

“Well, not completely.”

“What are you? Some kind of pervert?”

“I’m a ghost!” he bellowed. “And a long time ago I was a man with the same kinds of desires that Winchester fellow has. Only difference is...” Alex looked away. She could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest, his anger raging through his body. He turned toward her again, the calm, reflective side of him returning once more. “I can’t do anything about those desires. I have needs and wants. I can feel sad and lonely and happy. And I can feel terribly, terribly frustrated.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” he barked, and then his voice calmed. “Talking to you, looking at you, dressed, undressed, gives me the only comfort I’ve known in...” His words trailed away. He seemed to be thinking about something in the past. “It’s been a lot of years since I’ve had anyone to talk to.”

“Then talk, Alex. I want to listen. I want to know everything.”

The grin returned to his face. “Mind if I have a seat?”

He might bark, he might bellow, but, Elizabeth thought, at least he’s polite. “Be my guest.”

He floated in a light, fluid motion from her bedside to the high, solid mahogany footboard. He sat down and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on the backs of his folded hands. He proceeded to study her with those bright blue
eyes of his, and that slight, off-kilter smile.

“You sure do wear some peculiar get-ups.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just making conversation till you get used to my company.”

“You’re a ghost. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”

“You got used to that big lug Jonathan Winchester.”

“He’s flesh and blood.”

All traces of good humor left his voice. “He’s a Winchester, and all Winchesters are bad news. Stay away from them.”

“If you wanted me to stay away, why have you allowed Jon in the house? You kicked Matt out. Why haven’t you done the same to Jon?”

“Matt Winchester’s nothing more than snail slime. He touched you—”

“Jon’s touched me, too.”

“It’s not the same!” Alex bellowed. “Look, I don’t want to talk about that
lummox. I want to talk about me.”

Elizabeth smiled.
Alexander Stewart was rather cute when he was angry. “Okay, why don’t you tell me why you deserted Amanda?”

His frown deepened. “So, you believe the rumors? You think I ran away? You think I’m a murderer?” He no longer sat hunched over and relaxed at the edge of the bed. His back had stiffened, his quirky smile had disappeared. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Elizabeth. The words you’ve heard are false. They’re lies. All of them nothing but lies!” His protests reverberated through the room like thunder.

He bolted away, his form changing from a man
to a streak of lightning as he circled the room, knocking over everything in his path. The down comforter flew from the bed, the sheets billowed upward like stormclouds, and Elizabeth gripped them even more tightly to keep them from blowing away. Her hair whipped around her face, stinging her eyes, slapping her cheeks.

She didn’t like what was happening. Alexander’s anger was out of control and she had no idea what he might do next. But she wasn’t going to let him intimidate or frighten her. No way! She pushed out of bed, stood like a drill sergeant in the middle of the room and yelled “Stop!
Now!”

In less than a heartbeat the turmoil ended. Picture frames lay on the floor amid broken shards of glass. The blanket hung over the statue of marble lovers. The sheet had wound tightly around a bedpost. And Alexander Stewart sat cross-legged against the headboard, a silly-assed grin again plastered on his face. “I don’t like to be angered,” he announced.

“And I don’t appreciate your tantrums, or your attempts at humor.”

“I’d apologize, but...” He shrugged. “I’m a ghost. I do what I’m supposed to do.”

“And what’s that?” Elizabeth asked.

“I annoy the hell out of people.” He winked, and Elizabeth forced herself not to smile.

“Care to join me?” Alex pointed to a spot at the other end of the bed. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed as she studied his smirking face. Did she dare climb up on the mattress?

“I don’t bite, Elizabeth.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

His expression softened. “Trust me. Please.”

“Well...” She started to move but stopped when he disappeared in a flash. In half a second he stood behind her, draping the comforter over her shoulders.

“It’s too cold to be standing around half naked. Tarnation, woman! You’re in Montana, and it’s winter! If you don’t dress a little more appropriately, you’re going to end up in bed with pneumonia.”

“I’m perfectly healthy, but thanks for your concern,” she said, while Alex floated back to the place he’d claimed on her bed. Slowly, she stood on the footstool and climbed onto the mattress that was nearly four feet off the floor. She sat cross-legged, facing Alex, with the blanket wrapped loosely about her shoulders and over her legs. Settled down and comfortable, she waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared at her face, at the chaotic disarray of her hair, and then she noticed he was twiddling his thumbs.

“Do I bore you?” she asked.

Alex shook his head. “It’s a bad habit,” he answered, as his thumbs continued their circling motion. “Have you ever thought what it would be like to live alone for a hundred years, rarely having anyone to talk to? Have you wondered what it would be like to have no friends, no acquaintances?”

“I’d be lonely.”

“You’d be desolate. You’d long for your family, your loved ones. You’d savor every conversation. You’d hate everyone who scorned you. You’d want to sink into oblivion because kind words are never
spoken about you, and all you ever hear is lies. You’d shut your mind away from everything. And,” his voice softened, “you’d wish you were dead.”

“But—” Elizabeth frowned. ‘You
are
dead.”

“I suppose.” He shrugged. “But I’m still here. I never got the benefit of finding out what heaven’s all about. Never even got to give hell a try, either, although I’ve sworn for one hundred years that this hotel is a damn sight worse than Hades could ever think of being.”

Elizabeth listened to his words. His sadness was overpowering. She’d promised earlier to help him, but she didn’t have a clue where to begin. “What happened, Alex? Why are you here? Why did you leave Amanda?”

Anger returned to his face, and Elizabeth feared another hurricane was brewing inside her ghostly companion. “Leave her?” Alex shook his head. “You believe that hogwash? I loved Amanda.”

“But Jon told me the story, he told me how you left her standing at the altar. That doesn’t sound like love to me.”

“What do you know?” Alexander vaulted from the bed and paced the floor, back and forth, back and forth, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. Elizabeth waited for his frustration to ebb. Finally, he began muttering as if she weren’t even present. “I never loved any woman until Amanda. There were other women at one time. I’m a man, after all. But once I met Amanda, I didn’t want anyone else.”

Alex stopped at the end of the bed. “See this?” he said, pointing to the little finger of his left hand.
A thin gold band rested just below his knuckle. “I’d planned on putting that on Amanda’s finger, but I never got the chance.”