“About Friday…we’ll leave things as they are. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the evening, but that’s my problem.” I turned back to give my now ex-landlady a tepid smile. “Thanks again, Isabella. I appreciate your help.” My eyes wandered back to Alex’s door. “With everything.”
Lady Rowena gasped as Lord Raoul slowly undid the buttons to his waistcoat. The soft woolen fabric slid down the long length of his muscled arms. Her eyes widened as the duke’s son, with a heated look that promised untold delights, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his head slowly, giving her time to accustom herself to his bared flesh.
Her breath caught in her throat, Rowena thought she might swoon as he slowly moved forward. She fought the rising sense of panic that accompanied the sight of his muscled strength.
“Mercy!” she all but begged. “Please, my lord, it is too much. It is impossible. I cannot—”
“Nothing is impossible, beloved,” Raoul growled, cradling the softness of her slender body to the hard planes of his. She expected roughness, for how could such a strong man have a touch that was anything but heavy,
but his fingers were the merest whispers upon her skin as he teased the hair at her nape.
“If you are not ready for this, beloved wife, we shall wait until you are. You have nothing to fear from me. Ever. Of that I swear.” His breath was hot against her mouth.
She sighed with the pleasure of his touch and the promise in his eyes, and leaned into the hardened steel of his chest, offering up her lips. At last she had found a man she could trust with her life.
“Where do you want this, Freemar?”
I looked up from the manuscript to see what Ray was holding. The box said “stuff” on the side. Helpful, that. I peered into the carton.
“Oh, that’s my souvenirs from the tourist sites. Just stick it over there next to the bed if you please, Ray.”
She grunted an acknowledgment and skirted her way around a three-foot-high stuffed Beefeater I had somehow mysteriously acquired.
I frowned, setting the manuscript on top of the box of books at my feet, wondering where I was going to put the books. There wasn’t much choice, since my new digs were a little on the small side. The minuscule side of small, that is. There was enough room for a spartan single bed, a battered wardrobe, an even more battered desk with backless chair, and a window seat beneath a window that looked out over the busy street below. I designated a corner as a holding area and dumped my box of books there just as Bert came into the room brushing her hands off on a kerchief, which she folded and tucked in her trouser pocket.
“I left your box of food in the kitchen, Alix. I would
suggest you go down and claim it fairly quickly. There were several hungry-looking young men hanging about.”
I made a face. “They’re welcome to everything but the chocolate, and that I packed with my clothes. And speaking of my clothes…” I did a complete 360-degree turn. “Has anyone seen a box labeled ‘clothing’?”
“I have it,” a muffled reply came from behind Bert.
“Thanks, Isabella. You can set it there on the chair. Well!” Not nearly so dainty as Bert, I wiped my grubby hands on my jeans. “I guess that’s everything, then. I can’t believe I’ve bought so much stuff in just a month’s time!”
“You’re in London, dear; shopping is inevitable,” Isabella chided gently as she surveyed my new domain. I looked around with her, grimaced, and warmed up a smile. The new Alix didn’t whine or complain.
“I can’t thank you all enough for helping me get settled here. I appreciate your support more than you know.”
Ray pounded on the frame of the window in order to get it to open more than six inches. “Painted,” she tossed over her shoulder, then turned back to the street. She waved Bert forward while I turned to Isabella.
“And I especially want to thank you for”—I shot a quick glance at Bert and Ray and dropped my voice—“for being so sweet about the lease. That money will let me live here for three more months.”
Isabella tried on her bright smile, but it didn’t seem to have the wattage it normally wore. Maybe it was just the dingy surroundings. She looked around worriedly.
“It’s OK, Isabella, really it is. I know it’s not any great shakes as a bedsit, but it’ll be just fine. All I want to do is have some peace and quiet so I can write, and there’ll be nothing here that will…” My gaze met hers. I ignored
the sympathy in them and clung to the admiration. The new Alix didn’t indulge in pity parties. “…
distract
me.”
She squeezed my arm in sympathy or reassurance, I wasn’t sure which.
“Alix?”
“Hmm?” I turned to where Ray and Bert were standing at the window. Ray looked angry. Bert looked worried as she sent some sort of eyebrow semaphore to Isabella.
“Have you…erm…met your neighbors?” Ray asked.
Why was she so worried about a bunch of students? They seemed all right to me, if a bit young.
“Just the two women next door. There’s another room on this floor, and the shower, so I figure it’ll probably be pretty quiet.”
Some sort of secret unspoken communication passed between Isabella and Bert. Ray’s frown turned into a scowl. What on earth was wrong with them? I caught the merest shake of Isabella’s head before Bert spoke again.
“Actually, I was referring to the people who live on either side of the student house.”
I went over to peer out the window. I didn’t see anything worrisome, just a busy London street with a fish-and-chips shop across the street (handy!), an earring piercing place next to it, and a pinball arcade.
“Well, the pinball place is bound to be a bit noisy at night, but Alex fixed my CD player and I have headphones, so I’ll be fine.”
Ray cleared her throat. “Man next door. Big, burly fellow. Bald, too. Shaves his head, probably. Has tattoos
of snakes on his neck. You stay clear of him.”
My mouth dropped open. “Really?” I peered down at an angle to see if I could spot him. “Snakes? On his neck? Cool!”
“Alix.”
I smooshed my cheek against the not-terribly-clean windowpane and tried to see who stood in the doorway next to the one for the student house. I hadn’t particularly noticed the building next to the student house, so I had no idea if it was a business or another student house, but I could see the tips of a pair of dirty-looking tennis shoes poking out from the doorway.
“Alix.”
“What?”
Isabella tugged on my elbow. “Alix, I don’t wish to alarm you, but King’s Cross isn’t a terribly safe neighborhood.”
I peeled my cheek off the window and turned to look between her, Bert, and Ray.
“What? Not safe? This is London—of course it’s safe! I mean, look, the train station is right there, you can see it from the window. Of course it’s safe!”
Ray rolled her eyes.
I forestalled the inevitable objections. “Oh, I know, you guys have crime, but nothing like back home, trust me! I’ve been around student areas before, I’m not stupid.”
The three women exchanged dubious glances with each other.
“You’re all mother hens, you know that?” I herded them to the door, thanking them again for their help, and after promising them faithfully that I wouldn’t wander
the streets at night and would take care not to speak to Mr. Snakes, I sent them on their way.
I went down to the kitchen on the ground floor, put my meager foodstuffs away on the shelf marked with my room number, chatted for a moment with the resident kitchen loungers, then hurried back up four flights of twisty, uneven stairs to my new room.
An hour later I had everything tucked away, my newly purchased clean sheets and blanket on the bed, and was ready to begin work. I pulled out the list I had created two days before, and crossed off another item. My list was getting shorter, although adding in all the steps necessary to get through Friday evening had lengthened it considerably, but still I took pride in the fact that I was moving forward rather than standing still as I had for so many years.
I pulled out
Ravening Raptures
, made a mental note that I needed to find it a new title, and examined the first chapter, which I had finished revising the night before. As I read the words, Alex’s image was superimposed upon Lord Raoul’s, filling me with desire and anguish and all the many emotions I had fought back the day before. I closed my eyes against the sting of tears, and reminded myself that I couldn’t go back. I had been reborn, and I would not go back to that prior existence. I opened my eyes and propped up my list.
I was strong. I could do this. I had my plan, and I would stick to it, no matter how much my heart ached.
That night I met Beryl. I had toddled over to the fish-and-chips shop for dinner, splurging despite my new, extremely strict budget, and after dodging my way around all the people wandering the sidewalks, I crossed
the street and headed back to my student house. As I passed the dark blue and purple painted exterior of the building next to mine, a man stepped out of the doorway. He was at least six and a half feet tall, and probably a good yard across, but what immediately caught the eye was not his huge body, but the blue and red snakes coiled around his neck, writhing and twisting their way up the sides of his bald head.
Surprisingly handsome gray eyes peered out of a face that would have given the Gestapo nightmares. Unfortunately, those eyes were narrowed in suspicion and focused on me as I stared back at him. Two massive arms the size of my thighs crossed in front of his chest when he leaned forward, menace rolling off him like dust off a wheat field.
“What’re ye about, then?”
Who, me?
I had to swallow twice before I could make my tongue work. “Uh…hi. I live…um…just there.” I pointed a hesitant finger over his shoulder at the pink door to the student house.
His eyes narrowed even more as he raked me over from head to heels. I suddenly became aware that there was no one else on this side of the street, and the people on the other side, the side with the busy shops, had all stopped and were gathered into small, silent groups.
Oh, great, my first day out in my new neighborhood and I run smack dab into the neighborhood murderer.
“I’ve never seen ye before.”
“I just moved here. Today. This morning.” I tried to edge my way around him, but a parked car blocked one direction, and he easily blocked me from the other. I clutched my fish and chips to my chest as one would a crucifix when faced with a vampire. “Look, I’d love to
stand here chatting with you, but I’ve…uh…I’ve got to call my boyfriend. He gets worried about me, you know.” I hoped the snakeman wouldn’t notice my crossed fingers as I tried to sidle by him. “Scotland Yard detectives are awfully funny about that sometimes. Ha ha ha ha!”
He didn’t join me in laughter. Instead, two bushy black eyebrows met in the middle of his face and formed one long, continuous entity. Somehow the sight didn’t inspire hilarity.
“Wot’s that ye say? Scotland Yard?”
My head bobbled up and down like one of those dogs people put in the rear window of their cars. “Yes. Scotland Yard. My boyfriend—we’re going to be married soon, he’s very fond of me,
very fond
—he works for Scotland Yard. He’s a detective inspector. That’s an important guy,” I added just in case Snakes didn’t know that little fact. It appeared from the alacrity with which he stepped back that he did know that, or at least decided to consider it before killing me. I made an odd sort of bobbing motion that felt suspiciously like a curtsey as I scurried around the behemoth toward the safety of the student house. The weight of my snakey friend’s eyes on me had my palms sweating while I scrabbled for my key, but even so I managed a weak smile at him as I squeezed in through the opening.
“Holy cow,” I panted once I had the door closed safely behind me. I leaned against it, my legs trembling, and decided that although the New Alix was many things, she was not a fool.
A slight blonde with bad skin and a cheery smile poked her head around the door to the TV room. “Looks like you’ve just met Genghis.”
I stiffened my knees and tightened my grip on my dinner. “Genghis?”
The blonde grinned and nodded in the direction I had last seen the monster of King’s Cross.
“Bloke with the tattoos. His name is really Beryl, but we call him Genghis. He’s barb, isn’t he?”
“Oh, barb, yes. Totally barb. The barbiest man I’ve ever seen, and God help me, I hope I don’t ever see him again.”
She laughed a lighthearted little laugh and introduced herself as Jasmin. “Old Genghis won’t bother you once he’s shaken you down.”
“Uh…” Shaken me down? Good Lord, what sort of place had I moved into? “What do you mean, shaken me down?”
Her gaze razed me in a calculating sort of manner. “Blunt. Money. Didn’t you pay him anything?”
“To walk down the sidewalk? No.”
Her eyes widened until they were almost perfectly round, and she backed slowly away from me as if I were a rabid dog about to attack.
“Oh. I’m sure…that is, you probably…well, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
I watched her disappear slowly back into the TV room, never taking her eyes from me until the door closed softly behind her. I pondered whether I wanted to eat my dinner in the kitchen with what were sure to be the same three skinny guys slouching around a sticky Formica table, or if I wanted to dine in the comfort of my room, or if I wanted to drop everything and run screaming into Alex’s arms.
That pesky little inner voice who insists on giving me the benefit of her advice chose the last option, but New
Alix shoved her aside and gave me the strength to make my way up four flights of stairs, past the toilet on the third floor, the tiny, claustrophobic shower on the fourth floor, to the safe haven of my room. I pulled down the blinds, pushed the rickety desk in front of the door, and sank bonelessly down onto the bed. I knew that if I turned my head I could see my list lying on my laptop on the desk, but it somehow seemed to lack the comfort it usually gave me. Despite the heat of the day, I wrapped the blanket around me and curled up into a ball on the bed.
My decision to leave Beale Square suddenly seemed hasty and not terribly well thought out. I prayed it would all come out right.
“The new Alix,” I told Bert and Ray as I spun around obligingly for them, “may not be perfect, but she no longer allows herself doubts as to the correctness of the path before her.”