Page 58 of Seduction
Jake Sparrow/Asher Christmas
It took years to perfect the art of observation. One must sit still, barely breathing, and keep the eyes fastened on the object of one’s desire. Penina slept in the bed. I had slept with several women—slept with, not fucked—and none of them appeared so restful as she. Her soul was at peace, and I wasn’t sure if she knew that about herself.
What I had said to her earlier wouldn’t disturb her rest. And I was glad she was getting plenty of it. We were surgeons, and that meant we lived in a perpetual state of fatigue. Before I met Penina, I’d savored the exhaustion. Fighting weakness in my body made me feel feeble, as if I kept one foot in the grave. Maybe that was the goal—to die as Jake Sparrow. But that had changed. I could smell my former life drawing nearer, getting ready to close in on me. I didn’t want to be wiped off the face of the Earth anymore. I wanted to live happily ever after with her. What a fool I was to think I could put distance between us. But here I am. What a fool.
She snored, and I raised my chin to see if I could get a better look at her face. I couldn’t catch a view of it, and that was disappointing, so I had to imagine the sexy and beautiful face of the woman who was slowly becoming everything I thought I never needed.
I had Kirk, my driver, drop me off at the Christmas family property on Third Street, and I used Bryn’s security code to enter. Since the house hadn’t been prepared for arrivals, it held stifling heat and humidity. There was no relief from its heaviness. It also felt as if the ghosts that haunted the hallways refused to scramble even after I turned on the lights. I wasn’t frightened of anything tortured and non-human, though. I’d grown up in a house where evil spirits permeated every corner. As a child, I was afraid of them. They haunted my sleep and dashed across my ceiling, taking advantage of my vulnerability. When I was a teenager, I ignored them, and by adulthood, I knew they had no bite, no power beyond convincing humans they were mightier than what they were.
With a garment bag over one shoulder and a duffel over the other, I took off my mask and walked briskly. I hadn’t planned on staying long. I went into one of the bedrooms, opened the duffel bag, took out a pair of black pants, a T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers and put them on. Then I hung my suit on the hangers in the garment bag.
Next, I walked the mask down to the darkest part of the house, the cellar. I used Bryn’s code to open the secured entrance. I was being reckless by entering the room twice in one day. If my brother Jasper had nothing better to do than monitor all the family estates for movement, then it wouldn’t be difficult to figure out that a family member had visited the mansion. Knowing my brother, he kept tabs on Bryn and Spencer. He could’ve easily figured out it was me and set Nestor or one of his other investigators on my trail to find me. Our investigators were the best in the business, so they would’ve found me. The only reason I could think of why they hadn’t located me yet was because Jasper wasn’t looking. That was why I figured it was safe to go to the mansion, get masks, and accept the invitation to Bartleby Leonard’s masquerade party.
Bartleby threw the same masquerade party every year. He changed the cities, though. Last time I attended, it was in LA—the year before that, Manhattan. I’d introduced Si to Bartleby during a trip to St. Barths. As far as Bart was concerned, I’d dropped off the face of the Earth, so he’d invited Si, who accepted the invitation and handed the details over to me. Si didn’t like Bart, which was why he’d never attended any of the guy’s parties. Si referred to him as a pretentious, lazy narcissist.
Regardless, Bart knew how to throw a hell of a shindig. When Penina told me she’d been stuck in the hospital, unable to have any real fun since her residency started, I figured that night, I would score some forever points with her by showing her the time of her life.
That was negligent of me. The same people ran in that circle. Year after year, they traveled the globe, partying, getting high and drunk, fucking each other, and doing it repeatedly. Of course someone would recognize me.
I’d gone through a period in my life in which all I wanted was diversion. It usually occurred after I found my ex Gina and my brother Spencer fucking again, or after being seduced by Julia, the woman who was supposed to marry my oldest brother, Jasper. Her father and our father had insisted on the marriage. Jasper was frank about the fact that he would never love her or touch her. And she was scared as hell of him, like everybody else who didn’t know him like we did. However, I had no idea how I kept getting pulled into Julia’s evil web back then. She was poisonous and got off on sucking the blood out of me—and vice versa, I guessed.
That was then, though. As I stood in front of the glass cabinets filled with exotic masks, I accepted the fact that I had become a different man. The rigorous training I’d undergone to become a top neurosurgeon and the connections I’d made with my patients and colleagues had made me Jake Sparrow, the man I could see in the mirror and be proud of.
I put the golden wolverine mask back on the stand. It had belonged to my father.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I closed the glass case and continued squeezing the knob. It had suddenly dawned on me that he’d probably used it during one of his salacious parties where pot-bellied, balding, and dick-shriveling old guys overdosing on Viagra were fucking underage girls. Shit, and I even let Penina wear one of them.
The idea of allowing his essence to encounter Penina made me sick. That was why I had to see her, watch her, wait until I knew for sure that the vexing ghost that haunted everything he’d touched hadn’t disturbed her sleep.
I had Kirk take me back to the penthouse, and I dropped off my suit at the front desk. Since then, I’d been sitting in the dark, listening to her snores, guarding her body and soul, envying her tranquility, and waiting for her to once again squeeze the pillow a little tighter.
She’d cling to me the same way whenever I slept with her until I carefully loosened her grip. I only freed myself because her touch always made me want more of her. I could’ve kissed and made love to Penina every second of the day and all through the night. I also wanted to laugh with her, talk with her, eat with her, and even be in the OR with her. I imagined her with me during visits with my siblings. Penina was strong and smart and could hold her own, especially against Bryn and Spencer.
Spencer…
Currently, he was in politics. Of all people, Spencer was looking to be a senator. I would’ve shaken my head if I hadn’t had to sit still so that Penina wouldn’t detect the shifting energy in the room. It was amazing what the human spirit and soul continued discerning when the body was unconscious. One superfluous move, and Penina could wake up and discover me watching her.
She snored again and flipped onto her right side, taking the pillow with her. I wondered why she needed to hold on so tightly to something. Shockingly, I didn’t want to run away from her because of it. I wanted Penina to need me and desire me. If she knew who I truly was, whose blood was coursing through my veins, would she want me just the same?
Probably not.
I fought the urge to kiss her forehead. I’d done it before while she was sleeping. She didn’t wake up. I rose slowly to my feet and took a step toward her. Penina stirred.
“Christmas brother,” she muttered and hugged her pillow tighter.
I froze. My head turned light as my ears rang.What the hell did she just say?
* * *
Two HoursLater
On the treadmill,I pumped my arms and legs, trying to run worry out of my system. I couldn’t take jumpiness and lack of focus with me into the OR that morning. I hadn’t kissed Penina as I’d intended. Instead, I’d gone straight to the hospital.Did she say what I thought I heard?
I pushed the acceleration button and ran faster while trying to talk myself into a different conclusion. Christmas was about four months away. She could’ve said, “distant brother,” or “distant mother,” which made sense, since we’d had a conversation about her mother a few days ago.
I chose to take that conclusion and run with it. I had to. It was important that my mind competed with no thoughts beyond Leonard Moreau’s brain. He was my first and only surgery of the day.
Damn, I wish I could sleep.
