Exposed: Laid Bare (5 page)

And here it was, documented. What I’d seen was
real
. That glimpse of otherworldliness Lucien had allowed me to see hadn’t been my imagination, after all. And now, like last night, in the image on the screen, Lucien Chambers’ beautiful, deep brown eyes were again not quite human. There was something feral in his gaze, something inexplicable. There was no single word or way to accurately describe what the image portrayed, but you knew when you saw it that something was off. Off in a way that was beautiful and appealing, but off nonetheless.

“Did he want me to see this?” I asked out loud, my own voice causing me to jump.

Perhaps
, I concluded. Last night, Lucien had had no qualms about letting me know he was “no ordinary man.”

But to have given me proof—this photo—I couldn’t wrap my head around his reasoning.

It led me to one question, a question that simultaneously thrilled and scared me—what the hell did Lucien Chambers want from me?

“H
oly shit, Dahlia, wait until you hear what I found out about your friend Lucien.”

Friend
? I let out a light laugh. To me, he was so much more than that.

Veronica continued, breathless, ignoring my snicker. Damn, this had to be good. “I dug deep,” she said. “And let’s just say I discovered some really weird shit.”

“Like what?” I ventured.

“You sure you want to hear what I found?”

I needed to know who—and what—Lucien was, so I plopped down on the sofa, cradled the phone to my ear, and said, “Yeah, I’m ready. Hit me with what you’ve got.”

I listened as Veronica took a deep breath. Gearing up, I supposed, before she began with, “Well, there are rumors and undisclosed reports—and these were
not
easy to find, Dahl—that Lucien’s mother practiced some kind of witchcraft in her younger years.”

“What?” I dragged out the
a
, stupefied. “That is so bizarre, Veronica. Who are your sources exactly?”

“I can’t say, hon, but there’s more if you want to hear it.”

“Okay.” My voice had become soft and reticent, as had my attitude. I was afraid of what might come next. I was also worried that I’d gotten Veronica into something that could turn out to be dangerous. I mean, come on, this had to be some super-confidential information.

“Well,” Veronica went on, “there are also rumors that Lucien’s father is some kind of black magic expert.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. Is there even such a thing? I thought all that black magic crap was made-up stuff for books and movies. What could really exist for someone to be an ‘expert’ in?”

“I don’t know,” Veronica replied. “Maybe that’s how he met Lucien’s mother. You know, if the rumors about her and the witchcraft are to be believed.”

“That’s just it,” I said. “Who would believe such a thing?”

I tried to make my tone light and dismissive, but the truth was I could see how those rumors might be true. Witchcraft, black magic, it would certainly explain Lucien’s incredible success in every endeavor, his parents’ success, too. And it provided an explanation for the something-other-than-a-man look in Lucien’s eyes, both in person and in that damn photo.

“Hey, I don’t know what’s true and what’s not,” Veronica continued. “I’m just reporting the facts to you as I found them.”

“I know, I know.” I sighed. “And I appreciate all your work, V, I do. It’s all just so unbelievable.”

I had to keep up my farce of disbelief. I didn’t want my cousin involved more than she already was.

But when Veronica quietly muttered, “Maybe Lucien is, like, some kind of magical being or something,” she unknowingly took the words that’d been floating around in my head and made them seem more plausible.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, backtracking to throw her off. “This all sounds kind of silly.”

Silly, but accurate,
I secretly thought.

Veronica was silent for a long period, and then she said, “Well, silly or not, Dahlia, please promise me you’ll stay away from Lucien Chambers.”

That was a promise I could not make.

M
y restlessness extended throughout the remainder of the day. I was useless. I didn’t even bother getting dressed. Instead, I lazed around in my robe, trying to read, trying to watch TV. But my mind was in one place and one place only—on Lucien.

I printed out the picture of Lucien—the one of him with the inhuman eyes—and carried it to the bedroom with me.

“What are you?” I asked the image as I sprawled back on the bed and held the photo high above my head.

Perhaps Lucien
was
some kind of a magical being. Or maybe he practiced magic of some sort and this was how he looked at those times. He’d certainly done something to me last night. I’d been under his spell, no doubt.

As I stared up at the photo, I half-expected the image to come alive. But, of course, that didn’t happen. What did occur, though, were more feelings of arousal and more wanton need.

I undid the sash on the robe and touched myself again and again. I was unstoppable. I brought myself to orgasm so many times I lost count. By nightfall, I was spent and drenched in sweat. One thing for sure, I needed a shower.

Nude, I got up and walked to the bathroom. After lazily turning on the water, I stepped into the shower stall. I still felt kind of out of it, but the hot water calmed me. I stood for what felt like an eternity, until I finally picked up the loofah and soap and washed away everything.

I tried to think of nothing, but thoughts of Lucien broke through my weak mental defenses. I wondered if I’d hear from him again. Would he realize he’d allowed his
real
self to be seen in that one picture? If that was the real him—and I felt certain it was—then perhaps he’d feel compelled to stop me from turning it in for publication.

Would I do that? Turn the photo in and reveal him to the world?

No, never. I would protect what he had shared with me.

But he didn’t need to know that.

Suddenly, I felt like I had a way to ensure Lucien would see me again. And it was time to capitalize on it.

It was juvenile and unprofessional, yes, but after wrapping myself up in a large white towel, I headed back out to the living room to find my cell so I could call Lucien.

“Mr. Chambers,” I began hesitantly when he answered on the second ring.

My heart raced, I was so nervous. This was his private line, and I was not supposed to even have the number. But I’d jotted the digits down when I first received the particulars of the shoot. Someone had left the number printed in the margins on a sheet of information.

Lucien had to be surprised to hear from me, and I assumed his initial silence was an indicator that that was the case.

At last, he cleared his throat. “Miss Vaughn,” he said, “may I ask where you obtained this number? It is a private line, after all.”

“Uh…”

I was stumbling, and Lucien spoke right over me, his tone becoming terser and terser. “This number is for friends. It’s for people I
choose
to talk to. I don’t recall giving it to you. So I must inquire, is there a reason why you’re contacting me—”

“You, you…” I stammered, interrupting. Now, I was mad. What a prick.

“—on my private line,” he continued as if I’d never spoken.

I passed mad and landed at fuming. What an arrogant, pompous ass. And to think I’d spent the whole day thinking of him, feeling aroused by him, touching myself while looking at images of him. For the love of God, I’d given him my virginity.
Asshole.

“First off,” I began, “you have some nerve acting as if we’re strangers.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Lucien stated matter-of-factly, “but we
are
strangers.”

It was all I could do to keep from climbing through the phone and throttling him. If I could have, I would have.

“I’d hardly call us strangers after the things that occurred last night,” I volleyed back.

He barked out a laugh. “One night of sex doesn’t make us friends all of the sudden.”

“It makes us something,” I retorted.

What was I even going on about? I knew I had no real right to make any demands. He was essentially correct, but still, he had me so pissed.

And then he had the guile to laugh, like a deep, fully amused chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad you find this so amusing, Mr. Chambers,” I said in the coolest of tone. “I’m sure the general public will find it infinitely amusing, as well, when they see the, let’s say, very interesting shot I took of you.”
Take that
, I silently added.

I braced myself for his wrath…but nothing happened.

The jerk had hung up on me.

I
expected Lucien to show up on my doorstep in a fury. I expected him to demand for me to give him the incriminating picture…or else. I, at the very least, expected him to call back and try to work something out with me. I mean, what if I was serious about my threat? What if I exposed him?

But none of what I expected to occur happened.

I heard not a single word from the mysterious man…if he even was a man.

One day turned to two then two days turned to three.

It was that awkward time of the year, between Christmas and New Year’s, where nobody seemed to be working. Everyone was in a festive limbo, including me. Well, minus the festive. I was actually in more of a down limbo.

The day before New Year’s Eve, I got myself together and drove to the local mall. I had a few gifts to return and figured I might as well get out of the house and do something productive. I’d not left my apartment since speaking with Lucien, and, needless to say, it felt weird to be around so many people when I stepped in the mall.

I hadn’t minded the solitude at my apartment. I had spent the time alone watching old Christmas movies and drinking too much coffee. Fueled on caffeine, I had done loads of laundry, cleaned out my closets, dusted, and vacuumed the new carpeting.

The goal, however, had been to not think of Lucien. And I’d been successful, for the most part. But here at the busy mall with the decorated trees and hanging garlands, the holiday tunes and the smell of cinnamon, I was reminded of Lucent Magazine’s Christmas party, where I’d first laid eyes on Lucien Chambers in the flesh.

Sighing, I sat down on a bench outside of a store selling cookware. I needed a distraction, so I called Veronica. After all my alone time, I decided it was time to rejoin the land of the living.

After Veronica answered and we dispensed with our greetings, I asked, “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, silly. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Going out?”

“Yes, of course.” Veronica sounded flabbergasted with my obtuseness. “Dahlia, don’t you remember me inviting you to Solstice? There’s a private party being held there to usher in the New Year in style.”

Solstice was a high-end nightclub. They were hosting an upscale New Year’s Eve private party this year. When I thought on it further, I did vaguely recall Veronica mentioning something about the party weeks ago. I had told her
no
way
when she’d requested I join her.

“Oh, yeah,” I murmured, “I remember now.”

“Have you changed your mind about going?” she asked. Veronica sounded so hopeful that I silenced the “no” that was on the tip of my tongue.