A Beast For The Eyes: A Steamy Shifter Romance (A Ravenswood Romance Book 2) (32 page)

“Dr. Lyle, have you ever actually seen the ghost which haunts your home?”

Lyle paused, thinking. At last he answered. “No, not really. I've just seen evidence that he's been here. He has a dating profile on Elovers.com. Calls himself Ren Knight. And, I get this really creepy feeling that he's watching whenever I bring a girl in this room.”

“I do not watch!” Ren said vehemently.

“But, you don't really know whether your ghost is a man or a woman do you? I think your spirit is a woman and that she is jealous of your lovers. She wants you to herself and has created this false identity on Elovers.com in order to find a body to possess.”

“Ghosts can do that?”

“Indeed.”

“Why?”

“By possessing the body of a suitable woman, she could then meet you as a corporeal being. She could caress you, just as the women you bring to your bedroom have. Behold!”

Smythe suddenly lashed out at Shayne. Startled, she put her hands up to defend herself. Ren reached out to pull her away, but he wasn't fast enough.

Smythe's fist went right through her.

He pulled it out as Shayne began to flicker and shake. Ren looked upon her with wide eyes.

“You're a ghost!” Lyle gasped.

Shayne regained her form and lowered her eyes to the floor. Ren was staring at her.

“Please, remain invisible.” she said to him. Her whisper was barely audible. She looked into Lyle's eyes. “Yes, I am. And everything he said is true.”

Lyle stared at Shayne. He looked her up and down, his gaze pausing at her cleavage.

“Even when they're dead, they want me,” he said. His huge mouth split open into a self-satisfied grin. “I'm irresistible!”

Shayne tried to keep her eyes averted from Ren's. She was afraid of what she might find there.

“Please, allow me to stay.” she said. “I don't care if I can't touch you; I just want to be here.”

Lyle seemed to be considering her words. At last, he turned to Smythe.

“Get rid of her.”

“What?” Shayne cried. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to spell it out for me, babe.”

“I just told you that I love you and want to stay near you.”

“Is that what you said? Well, that's real nice but, I'm afraid it can never be. I don't stick my wick into dead things. Sorry, but I need you to get lost. You're cramping my style.”

The exorcist raised his cross to Shayne's eye level. “Nothing personal,” he said.

“This cannot be!” Ren boomed. Lyle and Smythe looked up in shock at the sound of his voice.

“Ren!” Shayne hissed.

“No! I cannot allow it! No one shall treat the woman I love in such a manner! Especially, the likes of a selfish cad and his hired thug.” He burst into being. Shayne gasped.

Ren was no longer the handsome spirit she knew and loved. He had transformed himself into the very incarnation of the living dead. Blood poured copiously from a great, raw wound in his chest. His eyes were cavernous sockets, his mouth twisted in a dreadful sneer. The foundations of the house began to quake beneath the room as he walked toward Charles Lyle.

Lyle whimpered like a child and fell at Ren's feet. A stone shook loose from the ceiling and crashed near his foot. He covered his head in supplication, his eyes averted from the phantom.

Shayne took Ren's lead. She transformed herself from the beautiful form of a woman into that of a hideous banshee. Her skeletal arms raked the air and an ear-splitting shriek split it. She too advanced upon Lyle.

“
Get out!”
Ren cried. “And never return!”

Lyle scrambled out the door. They heard his gibbering cries as he descended the stairs. The front door slammed behind him, and moments later, the Italian engine purred to life. They heard the tires squeal as it left the drive and receded into the distance. Ren turned his attention to Smythe.

“You!” he growled.

“Ren, no!” Shayne cried. She had once again adopted her original form. “Smythe is on our side!”

As quickly as he had changed, Ren now reverted to his handsome self. He stared in confusion at the exorcist. “But, he was about to send you away?”

“No, Love. Smythe is a friend and a very skilled con man. I called him in to help us.” She turned to face the con man. “By the way, you are a jerk! What were you doing back there? You almost had me on the floor a few times. I mean what was with the smiles and the Pig Latin? I almost blew the whole con!”

Smythe beamed. “Things have gotten real dull since you died, Shayne. I just wanted to spice things up a bit, see how much it would take to make you laugh.”

“I do not understand,” Ren said. “Why all the chicanery?”

“Well, I was going to try and take the blame for the haunting so that Lyle would want to keep me here. I had no idea that he had standards.”

“It seems my way was the more effective one.”

“It would seem that way.” Smythe agreed.

“I guess old habits die hard,” Shayne said. “When I was alive, I worked the con. I lived off of fooling people and using their greed. Smythe was my partner for a while.”

“Until she grew a conscience. One day she decides to up and quit. Says she's tired of hurting people. Next thing I know, she's terminal. Dies in the hospital.” He looked away, sobered by the words. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy with emotion. “Good to see you again, Kid.”

Shayne smiled. “I have something, Smythe. I've been saving it up for you. It's in a Swiss account and it's all yours. I think you should retire from the game.”

“I can't take that.”

“You can and you will. You're my only living relative.”

Smythe grinned. “We'll see, Kid.”

“You're also my good deed.”

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I guess this is goodbye.” He looked at Ren. “Take care of her, White Knight.”

“That is my intention.”

“This place got a phone? I think I'd better call a taxi.”

“In the study,” Ren said.

Smythe exited with a casual salute. Ren looked at Shayne. If she'd had a heart, it would have been in overdrive.

“So,” she said. “Now you know who and what I am. Are you alright with it?”

Ren nodded.

Shayne began to fidget. Her skin was burning.

“Couldn't you say something? I mean, are you ok with this?”

“Well, to be truthful, I must inform you that I already knew of your true nature.”

“What? How?”

“There is an interesting collection of obituaries on the internet. I found yours this afternoon. You said it was for you to know and for me to find out. So, I found out.”

“I worried for nothing.”

“Yes, I am afraid you did.” He bent and lifted her in his arms.

“Is there anything you don't know about me?”

“Only the number of organisms I can give you.”

“You mean orgasms, right?”

“Is that not what I said?”

Shayne smiled. “I stand corrected.”

******

END

Chapter 1

Willa’s heart did a somersault when the young man entered the diner. He was tall and broad, and walked slowly toward the counter, as if unsure where he was. Willa caught a flash of his deep blue eyes as he glanced up from beneath his baseball cap. They were bright as sapphires, soulful and lustrous.

“Hey hun, what’ll it be?” Gemma, all frizzy blonde curls and big teeth, pounced on the man before Willa could make a move.

A look of uncertainty crossed the tanned, boyish face, and the man gave the waitress a shy look. “Coffee,” he said in a voice of draped silk. “Black.”

Gemma caught Willa’s eye, and they both silently communicated their mutual appreciation for this unexpected piece of guy candy. Willa felt a mixture of relief and resentment that Gemma had got to him first. Even the very thought of speaking to him had transformed her tongue to lead.

“Go take a seat, hun, and I’ll bring it over,” Gemma said.

The man nodded stiffly, and headed toward a booth at the far end of the half-empty diner. Night had settled outside, and the start of the graveyard shift had officially begun. Willa had expected another slow and boring night, but now things had become much more interesting.

She made a show of wiping down the counter, while tracking him like a big game hunter. Though he’d been a frightened rabbit when he’d talked to Gemma, he moved with assured graceful movements, and his whole body seemed to radiate with a primal strength that made him even more sexy and mysterious. Willa sincerely wished the oversized jacket he wore didn’t block out her view of his butt.

“You wanna pick your jaw up off the counter,” Gemma drawled next to her. “Drooling ain’t very ladylike.”

Willa scowled in mock irritation. “I wasn’t drooling.”

“Please, you had the hots for him as soon as he came in,” her friend said. “Not that I blame you. Boy, he’s making my ovaries tap dance just looking at him.”

“Gemma!” Willa exclaimed, giving her a playful slap on the arm. “You can’t say things like that! You’re a married woman!”

“I can still window shop, hun,” Gemma said. She gave Willa a sly look. “But you’re a single gal. You wanna take his coffee over to him? He might let you handle the goods while you’re at it.”

“Quiet!” Willa hissed, feeling the heat in her face. “He’ll hear you.” She shot a covert glance his way. He was sitting hunched over the table with his head down. Her gaze lingered on his honey dark neck and the curls of white blond hair that peeked from beneath his cap. “You go. I’m officially off men.”

“Hunny, you must be crazy,” Gemma replied. “You can’t live like a nun forever.”

Bitter memories gnawed at the edge of her mind, and the allure of the handsome stranger faded. “Just take his coffee over,” she said in a serious voice. “I’m not interested.”

Gemma offered her a sympathetic smile and nodded. “Okay, hun, I was only kidding. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know,” Willa replied, brightening up. “It’s okay.”

As Gemma headed off to the man’s table, Willa moved to the other end of the counter, hoping that a greater distance from him would calm down her over-excited hormones. She couldn’t deny she was very attracted to him, but what she’d also told Gemma was the truth. Men were strictly off-limits at the moment. After what happened with Alec, men could well be strictly off-limits for good. Besides, the blond Adonis with the dazzling eyes and shy smile hadn’t shown her even the slightest flicker of interest.

Self-consciously, she checked out her appearance in the window. At twenty-two, she was round and curvy with elegant features and large, dark eyes. Her face was a perfect oval and her dainty nose and cupid bow lips complimented each other. Her jet black hair was tied back into a ponytail, and though she thought the lemon yellow waitress uniform Big Al made them wear made her look dowdy, Gemma assured her it showed off her large breasts and ample ass. Willa wasn’t so sure. She didn’t feel as pretty as other people told her she was. Worrying about her appearance had undermined her confidence all her life. That was why she ended up in such a mess, dropping out of college and ending up waiting tables in the back of beyond. How could any guy be possibly interested in her?

Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back and checking out the dreamboat. Gemma had poured him his coffee, and he was taking tentative sips from the cup. She found herself looking at his hands. He had gorgeous hands, sleek with long elegant fingers. They were a far cry from the grimy, calloused paws that belonged to most of the farmers and truckers that came in here. She started fantasizing how those soft hands would feel slowly caressing her body, trailing across her breasts before slipping down into the moist heat between her legs.

“Waffles!” a thick guttural voice called, shattering her fantasy.

Willa jerked back into reality, and let out a deep breath. She looked around guiltily, as if afraid that people could read what was going on in her less than saintly mind.

“Waffles!” the horrid voice yelled again. “More waffles!”

Willa brushed a strand of loose hair off her face and turned to where the voice was coming from. In one of the booths near the washroom, the three goons who had come in a few hours ago leered over at her. The one who had demanded more waffles, a bulky red-faced man built like a refrigerator and with jagged yellow teeth, grinned. “Waffles, girly,” he said in a sneering tone. “What’s the matter? You deaf?”

His two companions sniggered at this. They were smaller than him, but just as unpleasant. The small ratty one had been ogling her all night, when he thought she wasn’t looking, and the scrawny one with the face like a horse had spent most of the time scratching at his balls and picking his pimply nose. Like the young blond man, they weren’t locals, a rare occurrence indeed in a town like Moon Creek. Few people came here by choice, and those who did live here yearned to escape.

Willa looked at the three men and forced a bland hostess smile onto her face. “Of course sir,” she said politely. “Coming right up.”

She headed into the kitchen to get his order, wondering where the big lummox was putting it all. He’d done nothing but stuff his face since he came in here. When she headed back to their table with the food she wrinkled her nose against the smell of sweat and sour milk that oozed off them. She quickly put down the plate in front of the big man and made her retreat.

Before she could get away though, he reached out and grabbed her arm. His clammy hand was as strong as a vice.

“You’re a pretty little girl,” he said in a slobbering voice. “Why don’t you stay around and keep us company.”

Willa tried to pull herself free. “Let go,” she snapped. “I got other customers to look after.”

The big man yanked her closer, until she was almost bent over him. His stale breath lapped over her face and neck. “We’re customers, bitch,” he said menacingly. “You better look after us right, or you’ll be sorry.”

“Yeah,” Ratty piped up. “You tell her, Flick.”

Willa tried to pull away from him again, panic slicing at her nerves. This wasn’t the first time a man had power over her, and she wasn’t going to take it quietly. “Let me go!” she yelled, her voice on the edge of hysteria.