Beastly Beautiful (18 page)

Teagan couldn’t tell whether he meant that last to be insulting or not. “So?” she challenged.

His gaze was direct. “I believe Javen is in danger. And I believe together you and I are the only ones who can save him.”

“Save him? I’m sure Javen is more than able to take care of himself.” Despite her easy demeanor, his words had awakened concern within her. Was Sir in some sort of trouble? Up to this point, she had thought only of her own problems and the frightening circumstances they placed her in. Now, for the first time, she felt a twinge of fear for someone other than herself.

She turned to cast a glace over her shoulder toward the table they had vacated only minutes ago, but Sir was no longer seated there. Where had he gone?

Mr. Rotham the elder picked up on her nervous gesture. “Can I take it if Javen were in any sort of danger you would be willing to help?”

“Of course. I’d want to help anyone who needed it.”

“Good. Then here’s what you can do. Watch my grandson at all times. Due to your situation, you have more opportunity to keep close to him than anyone.”

“My situation?” she repeated.

“Of course. You are dating?”

“Oh, right, yes.”

“All I ask is that you keep your eyes open, try to find out what kind of secret trouble my grandson has gotten himself into, and if you perceive him at any time to be in need of help, that you alert me at once. Simple enough, isn’t it?”

“Very simple.” She said it flatly. What was with the men in this family all believing they could manipulate her?

“I hoped you would agree,” he said approvingly. “I felt sure your undoubted affection for Javen would compel you. Of course, even if it didn’t, I was prepared to offer a cash incentive.”

“Cash incentive?” She couldn’t seem to stop echoing everything he said.

He didn’t appear to mind. “Yes, but I’m glad it didn’t need to come down to that.”

Inwardly she was a little disappointed at the missed opportunity, even as she asked herself what was with the whole world suddenly wanting her to spy on Sir.

She opened her mouth to make some light remark, but then realized her partner was no longer looking at her. Following his gaze, she glanced over her shoulder and found herself face-to-face with Sir.

“You’ll allow me to cut in, I’m sure, Grandfather,” Sir said, laying a light hand on Teagan’s shoulder. “Teagan was begging me the whole ride here for a dance.”

Although appreciative of the rescue, Teagan was frustrated at losing the opportunity to come to terms with the elder Mr. Rotham. If only they’d had a few minutes more to resolve things. And she was also peeved by Sir’s choice of words. “I certainly was not begging—”

He cut her off. “You’re right, sweetheart. It was a very sweet, irresistible request. Come now.”

As his grandfather politely stepped back and relinquished his hold, Sir took his place before her. Aware of the elder Mr. Rotham’s eyes still upon her, Teagan offered him a hasty response. “I absolutely agree with you, sir. We’ll discuss it again soon.” That was the best she could do before Sir swept her across the floor and she lost sight of the old man.

“No need to thank me for a timely rescue,” he said smoothly, as they whirled across the dance floor.

“I certainly wouldn’t call that a rescue.” She tried to set aside her unsettling conversation with the elder Mr. Rotham. This close to Sir she needed all her wits about her.

“You’re right. We’re not in the clear yet.” His tone was unexpectedly light for a man whose elaborate scheme was at risk. “He’ll still be watching. Let’s not disappoint him.”

Teagan fought the instinct to pull away as he drew her into his arms for the dance. She hadn’t forgotten the warnings. A beast…a monster… Simultaneously, some treacherous corner of her mind whispered that his arm felt good, right, wrapping around her waist, that his very nearness stirred a tendril of heat warming her from the inside. It was uncomfortable being tugged in two directions by such opposite emotions.

To cover her confusion, she said, as they moved across the floor, “I should warn you, I’m the most awkward dancer in the world.”

He raised a dark brow. “I’ve danced with worse.”

It was far from a compliment, but she felt it bring the color to her cheeks all the same. What was the matter with her head tonight?

He glanced back toward his grandfather’s table and sobered. “Don’t keep such a polite distance,” he instructed. “Remember, we’re in love. On fire with passion for one another.”

Was there a twist of sarcasm to his words? Teagan had no time to consider it as his arms tightened, drawing her closer against him. The knowledge of eyes all around them urged Teagan to compliance, even as warning bells were pealing inside her.

He has nearly taken one life already and he will attack again
. The unbidden memory of those words was like a dash of icy water.

“Tell me about the man in the blue coat.” She hadn’t planned to ask the question, but it seemed to slip out on its own.

“Blue coat?” He looked confused.

“The man who has been stalking me all this time—the man I saw enter your office that day I was there.”

She felt him stiffen. “He followed you?”

“Only to warn me against you, or so he claims.”

His tone was cautious. “And how much did he tell you about me?”

It didn’t sound like the question of an innocent man who had merely been painted in a bad light. Teagan’s heart twisted with an unexpected sense of betrayal. She had almost been ready to trust him. But not now.

“Why do you ask?” she demanded sharply. “So you can figure out how much of the truth you can get by without telling? Or maybe so you can spin some lie to protect yourself?” She heard the note of panic in her voice but no longer cared what he or anyone else thought.

“I think it would be best if we discussed this at another time and place.”

She answered stubbornly, “No. I want answers now.”

He ignored that last. “You’ve stopped dancing,” he pointed out, his tone reproving.

Teagan recoiled inwardly at the coolness of his expression. How could he be so composed while she felt shattered inside—crushed that the man she was just beginning to care for was suddenly revealed to be a monster—hurt that he would refuse to give her the truth even now.

His eyes were cold, aloof, allowing her to see just how false his tender gestures of this evening had been. He was simply playing to his audience.

She swallowed a sudden tight pain that had settled in her throat, surprised at her disappointment. “Never mind. Just let me go,” she mumbled. He could have his game. He could play it alone. Suddenly, all she wanted was to escape to the safety of her dark little apartment and to huddle in her cold bed with the covers over her head. Maybe there she could sort out these crushed feelings and find a way to smother them.

But Sir wasn’t about to allow her that. He still retained a tight hold on her. “Stop it,” he warned, keeping his voice low as she tried to pull away from him. “We’re so close. Don’t spoil our plans now.”

“Close?” she echoed disbelievingly. “Close to what?” Tears pricked at her eyes. “Close to carrying off this farce? Close to convincing you grandfather some affection or trust exists between us when it so clearly doesn’t? How does that benefit anybody but you?”

Sudden anger made the words rings out more loudly than she had intended. Around them, people were turning to stare, but she was past caring. She was finished waiting for Sir to relinquish her, an act of decency he obviously had no intention of carrying out. With a sudden motion, she stomped sharply on his foot and followed up with a ringing slap across his jaw.

She used the stunned moment of silence that followed to duck out of his arms and scurry away, across the now silent dance floor. She had captured the attention of the entire room. It was the most humiliating exit she had ever made.

Chapter 25

She didn’t break for the elevator doors. That would have been too far a distance to travel under the barrage of stares from the surrounding onlookers. Instead, she caught a glimpse of safety, and veered toward a set of glass double doors at one side of the room. Luckily, the doors were unlocked, allowing Teagan to shove her way through them and out onto the rooftop.

This area had been converted into a patio dining spot with a scattering of metal chairs and tables topped by umbrellas. Some sort of minor construction must have been going on because flimsy scaffolding had been erected against the wall near the doors. It might have been a scenic place to dine during a pleasant spring afternoon. On an icy winter night, however, when one’s world was crashing down around them, it was a cold and depressing atmosphere.

Teagan’s high heeled shoes crunched softly over the snow dusted patio, and merciless blasts of wind whipped at her, sending shivers down her body and tugging her hair out of its tidy arrangement. She wrapped her bare arms around herself and stumbled to the decorative railing along the rooftop’s edge. Below, the city lights and traffic were eerily muted under the new snowfall.

A stealthy sound from behind warned Teagan of the approach of another person. Sir? She hadn’t heard the patio doors open. She kept her back to the newcomer. She had no desire to see or speak to him at present. In fact, she was fairly sure she shouldn’t have anything to do with him ever again. Why did that resolution send such an ache through her heart?

Her assumptions were her undoing. The quick pounding of rushing footsteps was all the warning she had, and then suddenly she felt herself being snatched up from behind and almost lifted off her feet. The thin arms wrapped around her were surprisingly strong. They also weren’t Sir’s arms. Realizing this, Teagan tried to let out a scream, but whoever had her in this hold clamped a hand over her mouth before any sound could escape.

Kicking and wriggling desperately, she managed to loosen his grip for an instant, but just as she was thinking she had a chance of escape, she felt cold steel pressing against the back of her neck.

“Enough,” her attacker warned.

It was the familiarity of his voice as much as the knowledge of the gun in his hand that froze Teagan where she was. Her blue-coated stalker.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he continued nervously, the gun against her neck shaking slightly, as if the hand that held it trembled. “I just need to deal with him, and you are my only means of doing it.” He had removed the hand covering her mouth.

“I don’t understand.” She was surprised at how calm her voice came out. Inside she was terrified to be in the clutches of this maniac—an armed maniac now. As she continued speaking, she ceased her efforts to extricate herself and tried to keep her tone steady. It was best not to excite him. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “I thought you wanted to help me.”

“Yes—yes, that’s what I want.” She could imagine him licking his lips nervously. “I only want to protect you and the rest of the city. But to get this monster off the streets and spare more lives, sacrifices may have to be made. I’ve steeled myself for it.”

Teagan didn’t like the sound of that. She had to stall him, distract him somehow, until the opportunity came to make her move. “Monster?” she repeated. “You are referring to Javen Rotham?”

“Yes, the blood lusting beast himself. He nearly murdered my brother in a vicious attack in an alleyway two nights ago. But it isn’t for revenge I do this. No, it’s to protect the innocent. As long as a creature like that can run free, hunting the streets at night, none of us is safe.”

“You keep calling him a beast,” Teagan said, to soothe the rising agitation that came across in his voice. “But I see nothing but a man. A man who is a little hard, cold maybe, but still very human. Why should he want to kill your brother? Maybe you’ve mistaken him for someone else.”

The point of the gun was no longer touching her skin. She was grateful for that; it made it easier for her to think, though it still hovered only inches away. If she could get him to move until they were standing before the glass doors, someone might glance outside and taking in the scene, come to her rescue. But she had no notion of how to accomplish that.

He had fixed on her first words. “A beast, that is right. Oh, he can disguise himself as a man—it’s the way of the lycanthrope—but he can’t conceal his evil heart.”

“Lycanthrope?” Teagan caught at the word. It sounded vaguely familiar. “A werewolf, you mean?” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at such an outlandish suggestion.

“Not a wolf, a cat. A puma rather.”

Despite her frightening situation, she couldn’t help giving a slight laugh. Sir as a shape shifter was the most outrageous thing she could imagine. Until…until she recalled having seen him once with a bestial gleam in his eyes, his clothes tattered, his fingertips torn and bloodied. There had been no human reasoning in him that night all those weeks ago when he had nearly assaulted her in his apartment. A heavy weight seemed to descend into the pit of her stomach.

Her mind was racing. Scarcely aware anymore of her precarious predicament, ideas were rushing unbidden through her mind. Sir’s volatile temperament, the sense of danger she had felt emanating from him at their first meeting. His ordering her to lock his study door during his weird rituals suddenly took on a new meaning.

How easy would it have been for him to disappear down the elevator and then return once she went into the den, to hide himself away in the study, waiting to be imprisoned for the night and then released in the morning? The noise of the CD player blaring would have drowned out any suspicious sounds he made during the night. The place setting at the table and the full wine goblet, those things could be the smoke screen she’d been looking for.

She tried to find some sort of comfort to be taken from these memories. If Sir went to such elaborate lengths to keep his condition secret and to keep himself in at night, surely that meant he didn’t want to hurt anybody, that he was disturbed by his state and sought to control it. She remembered his restless dreams at night, his heavy drinking. Was he haunted by his own fears and deeds?