The Keeping

  Whatever the truth about Greyson, the idea of working for him was both intriguing and intimidating. Mel just hoped that she managed to complete the job to his satisfaction. If he was going to become a patron of the arts, then maybe he would employ her again, asking her to do even more research on other up and coming artists. If he wasn’t pleased with her work… Well, she didn’t even want to let her thoughts go there!

  With this in mind, Mel realized that she’d better keep her end of the bargain. Picking up her cell phone, she placed the call, only to smile in relief when she discovered that her phone couldn’t pick up a signal. Well, that solved that problem, she decided, happily snapping the phone shut. Who would ever have thought that bad service could be a blessing? She’d have to call when she was in town tomorrow. Aldrich couldn’t complain about her lack of contact, if there were no means of communication available to her.

  Tossing the phone back into her purse, she set about preparing herself a quick meal, humming as she moved about the small kitchen. She’d bought easy to prepare foods and soon had a plate of grilled chicken strips and cooked veggies on the table. With no TV to watch, she amused herself by reliving her encounter with Ryne Taylor, adding pithy comments that she wished she had been clever enough to say at the time.

  In her mind, the man was soon overcome by her quick repartee, and eagerly agreed to an exclusive interview with her. He was also careless with his comments and her clever questions soon had him on the verge of revealing what she had dubbed ‘the great mystery’; the reason why he basically appeared to be in hiding, and why the wolf picture seemed to be so important.

  Mel snorted at her imaginings. It wouldn’t happen that way. Taylor was no pushover. Instead of trying to annihilate him with her scathing remarks, she should be thinking of ways to win him over with her pleasant personality so he’d be willing to talk to her. Usually, she got along with everyone, but for some reason, he seemed to bring out the worst in her. Well, no matter; she’d just have to try harder to get on his good side. Right now, she didn’t have any great hopes that such a thing would occur in the near future, but it was all she could think of at the moment.

  Once dinner was done, she investigated the delights of the large claw-foot tub. It was big enough, and deep enough, that she could completely submerge with only her head and neck above the water line. It was at times like these that Mel actually enjoyed being a little on the short side. A lanky model would have her knees and shoulders sticking out over the top of the tub. Chuckling at the mental image that accompanied the thought, Mel leaned her head back and let the relaxing warmth creep into her body.

  Steam rose about her, coating her face in dewy dampness. Her hair would be curling and frizzing soon; since no one would see her, she didn’t really care. The heat was turning her skin pink and she stuck one foot up out of the water, wiggling her toes and observing their appearance. She needed to redo her polish, she thought lazily before letting her foot sink beneath the water line once again. Bubbles drifted by, gathering around her neck and clustering in little islands that floated here and there in response to the slight current she created whenever she moved.

  It was a great tub. Almost big enough for two. Idly she speculated at the chances of meeting anyone locally to share the tub with. The odds were probably slim. Still she daydreamed about someone sitting behind her. She’d lean against his chest and he’d wrap his arms around her, cupping her breasts and pressing wet kisses to her neck. His hands would drift down over her stomach to her thighs and then… A dreamy smile spread across her face as she lived out her own little fantasy.

  By time the water had cooled, both her brain and her muscles felt like mush. Mel barely had the energy to get out of tub and drag herself into the bedroom. Throwing on her traditional sleepwear of an old T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks, she crept into bed and curled up into a ball, quickly drifting off to sleep.

  *****

  As was so often the case in bad dreams, she was trying to run, trying to escape, but her legs felt like they were stuck in quicksand. She pulled on her limbs, forcing each slow, plodding step, knowing that the terror behind wasn’t suffering from the same impediment. The air was cold and damp, tree branches slapped against her face as she made her way through the dark woods. Whatever was chasing her, was getting closer; its heavy footsteps sounding louder and louder. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  Hot breath hit her neck, long canines bit at her, tearing her clothing and piercing her flesh. Struggling to escape, she swung her arms wildly, gasping in surprise when her hand encountered something solid and warm. Now fingers clutched her upper arms, pulling at her, forcing her to turn around and face the horror that was attacking her. Heart pounding, she clenched her eyes shut. Like a young child, she hoped if she couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there.

  “Look at me!” A strong voice commanded her and she was helpless to refuse. Of their own volition, her eyes opened and she looked up into the face of the wild beast that was tormenting her. Light gleamed off of its long teeth, their whiteness accentuated by the black fur that covered his face. Her gaze travelled higher and then froze as it locked onto its bright blue eyes. They stared at each other for what seemed like ages and then the wolf’s face began to shift and take on a human form.

  His hazy features refused to come into focus, but his eyes remained clear and deep blue. He gazed at her, a low rumble emanating from his chest. Mel tried to inch away, still fearful, but her limbs refused to cooperate. The man leaned closer. She tried to say something, but he covered her mouth with his, kissing her softly.

  It was strange; she knew she was dreaming, but everything seemed so real. The slight roughness of his hand touching her skin, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips… Mel felt herself relaxing and sighing as she sank into the kiss. Okay, the nightmare was turning into a sex dream now, and it promised to be one of the best ones she’d had in ages. Giving a slight wiggle of delight at this unexpected turn of events, she prepared to enjoy the fantasy her mind was concocting for her.

  Without warning, their location changed. No longer in the woods, she was now in her bed at the cabin and the man was still with her, kissing her quite thoroughly. He nibbled on her lower lip and then sucked on it before kissing her deeply again. His body pressed hers into the mattress and she enjoyed the feel of his hard muscles and long limbs entwining with her own. She wasn’t exactly sure when the covers had disappeared, but it didn’t matter. There was enough heat generating from him to keep her warm.

  She felt him working his hands along the bottom of her t-shirt and moaned encouragingly when he finally touched her bare stomach and hips. He left off kissing her and moved lower, trailing his lips down her throat and capturing her nipple in his mouth. Her t-shirt quickly grew damp, and the combined warmth of his mouth and the roughness of the material had her gasping in pleasure.

  Heat pooled between her legs and she moved restlessly. As if knowing what she needed, he moved his hand to her core, brushing against her soft curls and then cupping her femininity. Heat radiated from his hand and she wiggled against his palm, aching to feel his fingers between her folds.

  Gripping his back, she began to whimper with need and he finally relented, stroking and teasing her eager flesh. Mel felt herself growing wet, the aching need increasing. When he finally slipped a finger inside her, she nearly cried out in joy. He was tugging at her other nipple now, the pleasure-pain shooting down to her core and combining with the sweet torture of his fingering. Her breathing grew ragged and she felt her back arching off the bed, her muscles tightening and straining until the tension burst in a sweet wave of release.

  Panting, she lay on the bed with her eyes closed, faint tremors still coursing through her. The mystery man brushed a warm kiss across her brow. The mattress shifted as he stood and then blankets softly fell over her. Smiling, she murmured her thanks and rolled onto her side, exhaustion beginning to take over. Wishing to cuddle now, she reached out her arm to pull
her phantom lover to her side, but couldn’t find him. Forcing her eyes open, she looked around blearily, but the room was empty. Letting her head drop back onto the pillow, she frowned, but then memory kicked in—it had just been a dream. With a disappointed sigh, she fell back asleep.

  *****

  The sound of the alarm ringing in her ear jerked Mel awake. She threw her arm out and groped wildly for the source of the annoying sound, grunting with pleasure as she made contact and silenced the evil piece of technology. Allowing herself a moment to reorient with reality, she lay there recalling her dream. Wow! It was, without a doubt, the best sex dream she’d ever had. The sensations had been so real, the release fantastic. Giving a yawn and a stretch, she gave a satisfied smile—way to go imagination! Pulling back the covers while simultaneously swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she gave a final yawn and stretch while feeling around with her feet for her slippers.

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Mel stumbled to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker, pleased that she had thought to prepare it the night before. While the blessed drink brewed, she headed to the bathroom for a shower. Her dream had left her feeling sweaty and a bit sticky.

  Adjusting the water, she peeled off her t-shirt and stepped under the hot spray. The feel of the water sluicing over her was heavenly and she wished she could just stand there and revel in the sensation. Mindful that the cabin probably used well water, she quickened her ablutions, not wanting to waste what was probably a limited supply. With practised speed, she washed herself and her hair, removed stubble from legs and arm pits and turned off the water, pleased with her efficiency. Her apartment in Chicago had a precarious hot water system and she’d learned how to make the best of what was often a scarce commodity.

  Wrapped in a terry cloth robe, she grabbed her t-shirt and headed for the bedroom, intent on tucking the garment under her pillow for use the next night. Casually folding the make-shift night shirt, her hands stilled as she stared at the front. That was strange. Two distinctly wrinkled spots stood out on the front, right where her breasts would be. Huh? She frowned and ran her fingers over the area, recalling her dream from the previous night. Her imaginary lover had suckled her through the t-shirt, but it hadn’t been real so how… ? A blush washed over her face. Had she been groping herself in her dreams? That would explain the wrinkled material… sort of… Gnawing on her lip, she wondered what other explanation there could possibly be, but none came to mind. The idea that a man had appeared in her room and made love to her while she slept was utterly ridiculous.

  Giving her head a shake, she finished putting the t-shirt away and made her bed, then went in search of her coffee. The wonderful smell of fresh caffeine was floating through the small cabin, perking up her senses and further activating her brain. Leaning against the counter, she contemplated her day.

  She’d have to contact Aldrich and let him know that she had found where Taylor lived, but hadn’t yet made an appointment to interview him. That was the truth. Her contact with the man yesterday didn’t need to be part of the report.

  Mentally, she gave herself another kick for trying to sneak onto the man’s property. It had been foolish and amateurish, more suited to a cheap spy novel than a journalist who had a paying client. Being impulsive had always been her downfall and she kept hoping that with age, she’d finally learn to control herself, thus avoiding incidents like yesterday. So far, maturity wasn’t helping.

  Maybe she could blame her mother, she chuckled. The woman wasn’t there to defend herself and she had been flighty in her day—and still was, if the truth be told. Mel loved her mother dearly, but the woman was in the habit of just picking up and moving with no warning, simply because something had caught her fancy. Usually it was a man, but sometimes it was a charitable cause, something she’d seen on a travel show or the need to undertake a new career like pottery or bee-keeping. While she’d been young, her mother had tried to curb her gypsy ways, but once Mel was grown, the restlessness had returned.

  Mel understood. She had the same feeling herself to a lesser extent; always looking for the one thing that would ‘fit’ and fill what seemed to be a void inside her. She hadn’t found it in any of her previous relationships or jobs, and hoped this current endeavour was the right one.

  Her mother was still searching for meaning in her life, presently living in Florida with a man named Fred, and doing something with seashells—Mel didn’t really understand the enterprise and knew better than to ask. The explanation would be long and complicated yet leave her with no clearer understanding for the telling.

  Sometimes Mel wondered if her mother would have been more settled, if her father had stayed around. Of course, that hadn’t happened. Her mother had merely been a week-long fling for the man. He hadn’t left a number or an address and probably didn’t even know or care that he had a daughter.

  It didn’t really matter to Mel though. Her mother had raised her by herself and they’d survived, just the two of them. There had been no grandparents to lend a hand, but friends had rallied around and Mel had grown up surrounded by her mother’s good friends that became her honorary aunts and uncles. Frowning, she realized she hadn’t seen some of those people in almost a year. Maybe when this job finished, she’d make time for a visit…

  Mulling the idea over in her head, Mel dressed and prepared to head into town in search of a phone to call Aldrich. Afterwards, she’d try to contact Taylor again, by more conventional means this time. With any luck, he wouldn’t be the kind to hold a grudge…

  Chapter 8

  For some reason, Mel found herself driving by Ryne’s property, rather than heading straight to town. She hadn’t consciously decided to do it, but had been day-dreaming about nothing in particular and the car seemed to have a mind of its own. Once she realized where she was, she resolved to drive right on by, even as her foot was depressing the brake pedal and her hand was shifting the car into park.

  She sat in the idling car, staring at the locked gates and chewing on her lip, not at all sure why she was here. A repeat of yesterday was definitely not in the cards, so what would she gain by staring at the locked gate? Nothing really, but something drew her to this place. Could it be the fact that Ryne was behind the gates. Possibly. There was the hint of mystery that seemed to surround the man, and she’d always loved solving puzzles. What was so important about this man that Greyson was paying her to get information on him? Was it just his photographs or was there something else? And why was Ryne so obsessive about his privacy? A padlocked gate, a half mile long driveway, living in the middle of nowhere in an out of the way town that few people had ever heard of… It all seemed a bit excessive to someone such as herself, who’d lived most of her life in the city surrounded by people. Maybe, if she ever got to interview the man, she’d get some answers to those questions.

  Well, sitting here speculating wasn’t going to do her any good. Mel lifted her hand to the gearshift and was just about to put the car into drive, when she noticed someone walking down the road. She hesitated for a moment as a little stab of excitement shot through her. A friendly conversation with one of the neighbours might prove to be useful. Neighbours in small towns knew things about each other, didn’t they? Eagerly, she awaited the arrival of her possible information source.

  It was soon evident that the approaching figure belonged to a man. He was tall, good looking and around her age, with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. His stride faltered when he saw that she was obviously waiting for him and she wondered momentarily if he was about to turn around and retreat. His hesitation was brief, however. Soon a wide grin spread across his face and he walked up to her jauntily.

  She rolled down her window and called out a friendly greeting. “Hello. It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.” The man stopped beside her car and looked down at her, his brows raised in inquiry. “I’m surprised to see you… I mean… someone out here. We don’t get too many visitors.”

  “I ima
gine not, given how off-the-beaten-path it is. Actually, I’m interested in meeting Ryne Taylor. I’ve heard he lives here. Do you know him?”

  The man seemed to be suppressing a chuckle and Mel quickly glanced at her face in the rear-view mirror. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had something on her face accidentally. Nope, all was clear. Maybe the guy was just the cheerful type.

  “Yeah, I know Ryne. He’s my Alph… Er… friend”

  “So you live around here?” Mel felt her spirits perk up. This man just might prove to be a fount of knowledge about her photographer.

  “Uh-huh. I actually live with him. We’ve been together for about five months now.”

  “Really?” Hopefully, her shock didn’t show on her face. The idea that Taylor might be gay had never crossed her mind. Darn, it was always the cute ones. She felt herself inexplicably wanting to pout over the fact, not that she’d really been interested in the man of course! But still…

  Something niggled in her brain. No. That couldn’t be right. Taylor couldn’t be batting for the other team. From the way everyone spoke, he was a ladies’ man. A switch hitter? Nah… This fellow must mean something entirely different by the term ‘been together’ than the popular vernacular. Refocusing, she gently probed for more information. “So it’s just the two of you?”

  “No, Daniel lives with us, too. I’m Bryan, by the way.”

  She nodded her head, and shook the hand he extended towards her, and offered her name in return. Not quite sure what to make of the situation, she decided it wasn’t any of her business anyway. Her main focus should be on meeting Taylor and getting him to agree to an interview. Possibly this person was her way in. “Well, I’d really like to meet him. I’ve seen some of his pictures and he’s an amazing photographer. Do you think he’d be willing to see me and discuss his work?”