Jezebel (24 page)

Celeste almost pressed him
for ‘when and where’, but with the way he dove into his
food she ended up watching him eat instead.

Her
eyes fixed on his mouth. Unusually plump for a man, his lips moved
sensuously as he talked to her between healthy bites. Her mind filled
with images of his mouth devouring her and Celeste almost groaned.

“
I’m going to
run away with the hostess,” Shane declared, sopping up perlo
rice with a hunk of golden cornbread.

Even if he were pulling her
leg, Celeste couldn’t kick the wave of jealousy washing over
her. “What about me?”

“
You can come. We’ll
need someone to keep the place clean.”

She moved to pinch him. He
thwarted her by wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her
from his lap.

“
I’ll be back,”
he said, setting her on her feet. “Round two.”

The rent party was nowhere
near winding down by the time she and Shane called it a night on the
other side of midnight.

“
Did
you have a good time?” Celeste asked as he walked her home.
Unable to find a cab at such a late hour, they’d opted to hike
the six blocks back to her place.

Taking
her hand in his, Shane nodded. “Reminded me of my childhood in
Tennessee, but with more food and better music.”

Interest piqued, she decided
to dig deeper. “You grew up poor?”

“
Dirt poor. My mother
worked her fingers to the bone. My father, well, he barely worked.”

“
Lazy?”

“
For
sure, but also a drunk,” he sneered.

Celeste cringed. She’d
faced the same kind of contempt when she’d been too drunk to
put one foot in front of the other. “He’s my biggest
influence. He used to beat the crap out of me and my little brother.
One day he couldn’t do it anymore. By the time I was thirteen,
I stood a half a head taller than him. So, he kicked me out.”

Hit by the parallels in
their childhood, her insides twisted. Sickened, Celeste wrapped her
arms around her middle as she walked ahead of him. She didn’t
get far. He grabbed her by the arm, while edging her up against a
street lamp.

“
Why the long face?”

“
Y-you’re
imagining things,” she lied, even dredging up a cheeky smile to
support her claim.

“
I
thought you had talent.” Acknowledging the insult, Celeste
tried pushing past him, but he crowded her.

His bad behavior should’ve
put her on edge.

It didn’t. His
nearness made her crowd him back until they stood toe to toe, almost
touching. The affect heady and overpowering, she had trouble thinking
straight.

“
I don’t need
you to feel sorry for me.”

“
I-I don’t,”
Celeste stammered, her guard slipping. He believed she was sore
about his upbringing. She did feel for him. She would be a
hard–hearted Hannah if she didn’t. But a guilty
conscience brought on by her drunken past weighed on her more.

“
I turned out f—”

Before he could finish, a
hand clutched Shane’s shoulder and spun him around.

Celeste stepped to the side
and her heart dropped. The drip from the rent party and two of his
cronies squared off against Shane, blocking them from escape.

“
Well, what do we have
here?” the drip drawled. “A pair of lovebirds or a hoe
and her trick?”

When Shane rolled his
shoulders, testosterone emanated from him in waves. Celeste groaned.
This wasn’t going to end well.

No man liked a woman to help
him save face. Still, she couldn’t just stand by while they
beat him to a pulp.

“
Ha! What a comedian,”
she twittered, her voice sounding shrill to her own ears. “We
better be running along or the sun is going to catch us.”

She moved to loop her arm
through Shane’s.

He had a different plan.

Stepping forward, Shane
knuckled the man advancing on their left. The poor fellow didn’t
even see what hit him. A quick, right jab shadowed by an uppercut
sent him flying along with spittle, blood and what looked like teeth.

Shane
didn’t watch the guy go down. Quick as lightning, he pivoted
around and dealt a jaw-cracking right hook to the poor fellow’s
friend. His left eye filling with blood, arms failingly wildly as if
shadow boxing, Shane’s unmatched adversary staggered backward.
Celeste marveled at his dexterity and balance.

His
one good eye suddenly widened, regaining focus. He stuck out his
tongue and swung. Light on his feet, Shane stepped out of harm’s
way then parried with a blinding blow. Like a falling tree, the man
swayed. His arms fell to his sides and his knees buckled, sending
him crashing to the pavement.

As with the others, Shane
advanced on the last man standing with a ferocity she could only
imagine belonged in a boxing ring. With a succession of well-placed
jabs, he opened skin and drew blood.

With each parry, his muscles
bulged, rolled beneath his suit jacket and traces of a smirk tainted
his handsome features. He was relishing this, making mincemeat out of
his antagonist.

Unable to stand anymore,
Celeste looked away and her eyes fell on the bruised bodies crumpled
like discarded paper dolls on the sidewalk.

She was the cause of all of
this carnage and pain! And she wasn’t worth it, any of it,
especially when the insult hadn’t fallen far from the mark.
Her father had given her the name Jezebel and she’d spent the
past five years drinking enough hooch and taking enough lovers to
deserve the moniker.

Horrified at her role in the
night’s turn of events, Celeste inched back, blending into the
shadows. She waited for Shane to turn his back and then she bolted.

By the morning, all of this
will be nothing to me Celeste thought fiercely. And if he came a
calling, she would have Maggie turn him away. All of this had been a
flight of fancy. Everything she felt, everything she had done with an
almost mesmerized abandon had been part of a fantasy—all
make-believe.

Through sheer habit alone,
Celeste found her way home. Once inside, she yanked off her cloak,
including her hat and gloves as if all three of them were the cause
of her shortness of breath.

Since their removal didn’t
improve her current mood, Celeste dropped them unceremoniously in the
hallway. Clawing at the dress’s neckline, she stumbled to her
father’s study.

Celeste
ran her hand along the top of a lacquered chinoiserie cabinet.
Before moving in she’d made sure the entire house was dry. Only
yesterday, she’d discovered she’d forgotten the rye
whiskey her father kept for special guests when she found Maggie
dusting in here. She’d meant to dispose of the bottle, but in
all of her excitement over her new gig and Shane, she’d
completely forgotten about it.

Until now.

Smiling, Celeste fingered
the key. All she needed was a sip.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

“
Long time no see.”

Celeste dragged her gaze
from the drink in hand to the man now standing in the doorway. He
didn’t look too worse for wear. His dark suit still fit him to
perfection, not a single strand of hair out of place. The only
indication there’d been a fight was the bloody handkerchief
wrapped around his right hand.

Disgusted by the throbbing
pulse at the base of her throat, in spite of everything she still
wanted him, Celeste muttered, “Too soon, if you ask me.”

Ignoring the way he
flinched, she brought her half-empty glass to her lips.

Why
didn’t he just go away?
Be done with it. They would never fit just like two square pegs in a
round hole.

Unfortunately, his reaction
cut her to the quick and she temporarily lost her taste for anything
with ethanol.

Irritated, Celeste set her
glass down with a loud thud. Her eyes met his and she froze. If the
eyes were the window to the soul, his seemed to be at war.

Obviously frustrated, he
pummeled his good hand through his hair, mussing it. Unkempt, he
looked ten years younger. Despite her best efforts, the look plucked
at her heart strings.

“
You’re a hard
woman to please.”

“
Who asked you to?”
She felt horrible for saying it, but the quicker she nipped this in
the bud, the sooner he’d move on. She didn’t need or
deserve a hero or a savior.

“
You didn’t,”
he mumbled as if having trouble with the words.

Equally troubled, Celeste
leaned against her father’s desk for support. For some reason,
she felt cold, empty and weak kneed.

“
I’m sorry I
troubled you,” he said with a finality that raised the hairs on
the back of her neck. He turned to leave and the bottom dropped out
of her stomach.

For the first time in her
life Celeste was terrified of someone walking away from her. In a
moment of insanity she would question in years to come, Celeste
decided to provoke him. Throwing back her shoulders, she pushed away
from the desk.

“
Coward.”

He rested his hand against
the door frame, but didn’t turnaround. Instead, he slightly
cocked his head so all she could see was his near perfect profile.
“You got me pegged, sister.” Expecting to be met by
bluster and bravado, Celeste choked on her initial comeback.

“
I’m a
yellow-bellied coward,” he rasped as he turned around, “and
so are you.”

His words hit their mark and
it felt like the carpet had been yanked from under her. He compounded
her instability by slowly advancing on her. Unsteady, she stumbled
back against the bookcase.

“
Only cowards
retreat.”

He paused to extinguish a
floor lamp, blanketing the far end of the room in semidarkness. The
banker’s lamp resting on her father’s desk outlined his
bulky silhouette.

“
I’m not a
coward,” she said, finally finding her tongue. She even pushed
away from the bookcase and squared her shoulders. Even when he
breached her comfort zone, she stood her ground.

“
Then why the hard—ass
act?” He inched closer until his body heat was faintly
tangible. “Can’t you see I’m sweet on you?”

His words and the tone in
which he said them burned into her, shooting through her body and
nestling in the pit of her stomach and lower.

Why couldn’t he be
mean and hurtful like her daddy? Or even ugly for that matter. Maybe
then it would have been easier to not want him so much.

He reached out and pulled
her into his arms. So close, she could see the gold flecks in his
green eyes and if she went up on her toes they would be lip locked.
“That’s why I keep refusing to walk way.”

“
I’m rotten to
the core,” she warned as he lowered his head.

In
the dim light his eyes looked dilated, yet intense. “You’re
starting to sound like a scratched phonograph record.”

He moved in to kiss her, but
Celeste turned her head. “I’m not what you think…I’m
a woman of loose morals.”

Each word that tumbled from
her lips felt like a catharsis, a heavy load falling from her
shoulders.

“
I-I love to drink…and
have a good time…I have had lovers…plenty of them.
You’re not my first and knowing my history not my last. But I’m
trying…really, really hard…turning over a new leaf, you
could say…I poured myself a drink…b-b-but I…when
you came in I ended up just beating myself up…and then I took
it out on you….”

Shane planted his hands on
either side of her head and she fell silent. Her confession had been
a deal breaker for sure. The thought of him walking away now did a
job on her insides, but it was for the best.

She didn’t want him to
walk into their assignation with a false impression. Coming clean
would save his pride and her unnecessary time wallowing in guilt.

“
Done?”

Celeste’s shoulders
slumped as she nodded her head.

His tone was emotionless,
harsh even. His hands slid down the bookcase, setting her on edge. So
much so, she jumped when he grasped her wrists.

“
Until
you transgress against me, I don’t care about the past.”
His warm breath fanned against her lips and Celeste shivered. “You
and me we’re in the present and that’s all I care about.”

Shane knew he should’ve
severed ties, followed Gould’s advice. And yet, he knew with a
fatalistic despair that he wouldn’t walk away.

She
turned him inside out. She made him want to move heaven and earth to
protect her. Being with her was unlike like any woman he’d
ever been with. Whenever she looked at him, he felt like he could do
anything.

Unable to hold back any
longer, he placed a hand on either side of her face and slowly traced
his thumb along her bottom lip.