Opaque Melodies (Coveting Delirium Book 1) Page 5

  Unease snaked around my desire, choking it, but doing nothing to rid me of its horrible effects. Alaric lifted his wrist to check the time, a small sigh unfurling between us. He placed a gentle hand on my forearm. My skin tingled beneath his touch.

  “I have to go. Feel free to make yourself at home and help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

  With that, he stepped away from me and vanished back down the hall.

  I remained exactly where I was until the sound of the front door closing echoed throughout the house.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Before diving into the mess of boxes I returned to the kitchen for my coffee, and then went back to my room.

  After powering my cell on I didn’t wait for the notifications to start pouring in. I dialed my mom, placing the phone on speaker so I could freely retrieve my pills. It took her two rings longer than usual, but finally she picked up.

  “About time,” she huffed. “Did you just wake up?”

  “Saying hello every once in a blue moon wouldn’t kill you. And no, I’ve been up for an hour or so now.”

  “Doing what?”

  Since she couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes. “Being awake.”

  “My god, Catalina. That smart mouth of yours. I hope you keep it to a minimum around Alaric.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s the respectful thing to do. Why else why? Now, tell me, what do you think of him?”

  I popped one of my Pexevas into my mouth and chased it down with a drink of coffee. What did I think of Alaric?

  He had stunning eyes, the color of cerulean. His smile was so beautifully disarming I knew more than a few had fallen victim to it. My sister amongst them. He was rich. Gorgeous. Unnervingly enigmatic.

  He provoked something in me that needed to remain exactly as it was for my sake and his. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell my mom any of this. She was way too eager to hear what I had to say. I’d annoy her instead.

  “I think he’s my sister’s widow.” I could tell from the breath she drew she was about to chastise or lecture me. Before she could, I told her about the boxes and Alaric’s reaction.

  “We all have our own way of grieving. No one can tell us we’re wrong to do it one way from another.”

  I chewed my lower lip, nodding. She’d said something along these lines the day I told her the news about Meg. This time around, I didn’t agree. While no two people would show their pain the same, I didn’t get the feeling Alaric was grieving at all. He seemed just as unaffected as I was. If not more.

  A low beep sounded in my ear, I pulled the phone away, seeing Chloe’s name on the screen.

  “Hey, I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I cut her protest short with the tap of a button, swapping our connection for another.

  “You just saved me.”

  “Guess I called at perfect timing then,” Chloe joked. “I tried to call you back on my break and when I got off, but I kept getting voicemail.”

  “My cell died sometime last night.” I placed my mug on the nightstand and plopped down on the bed. “By the way, I’m killing you when I get home.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You lied to me about what he looked like. That’s why!”

  “Oh, that. I did you favor,” she laughed.

  “How? By making me think I was coming to meet Hugh Hefner instead of a GQ model?”

  “Exactly! He’s fine as hell. If I would have told you, you wouldn’t go no matter how much you wanted to.”

  “I’m beginning to think that wouldn’t necessarily have been a bad thing.”

  “Why, what happened?” Her jovial tone became one of concern.

  I laid back on the bed and kicked my feet up, telling her everything that had happened since I’d arrived here, giving her some of the more illicit details.

  “Well, starting with the Alaric thing, I think it’s pretty damn normal to be attracted to him. I only saw pictures and if they’re legit then hell, I am too.”

  “He’s my brother-in-law.”

  “You keep saying that, and I get it, but do you know what else he is?”

  “Rich?”

  She laughed. “He’s a super attractive man. A stranger. I’m kinda happy for you. I was beginning to think you secretly wanted me.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I deadpanned.

  “I’ll get over it. You know some people marry their in-laws, right? It’s not even that taboo anymore, and unlike with this situation they actually knew them beforehand.”

  I furrowed my brow and sat up. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel better, but that has nothing to do with this situation.”

  “I’m also keeping it real. Even if it’s not what you want to hear. Quit trying to make yourself feel guilty about being human.”

  I twirled a strand of my hair. “That isn’t what I’m doing.”

  “Whatever. My point is, you’re there to sort out your sister’s shit, so do that then hurry home to me, but don’t go making yourself miserable why you’re there. Hit the beach. Salivate over the eye candy dangling right in front of you. Make the best of it.”

  “Careful. You almost sounded like my mother. Can we stop talking about him now? What about Meg?”

  “I knew her less than you did, and you didn’t know her at all. If you wanna know anything about your sister, you’ll have to find a way to ask Alaric.”

  I groaned. “I think that may be easier said than done. He shuts down almost every time I bring her up.”

  “Well, if they had separate rooms things couldn’t have been all peaches and cream between them. It’s probably a sore subject.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.”

  A spicket came on from her end of the phone. “I gotta start getting ready for work, text me though. K?”

  “Alright, thanks for listening to me bitch.”

  “Anytime,” she laughed.

  I ended the call then tossed my cell down beside me. I felt a bit out of sorts, and not simply because I was in a strange new place, but because of the man who lived there. I didn’t know what to make of him or the way he made me feel with a simple look.

  The past few days had been filled with more excitement than I’d had in over a year. This wasn’t a good thing—not for me. I stretched my arms above my head and got off the bed.

  Maybe after a shower my head would be a little clearer.

  I couldn’t take anymore.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I surveyed all the boxes I had yet to open. Of about fifteen, I’d gotten through four. I hadn’t discovered anything interesting and I knew no more about my sister than I had before arriving here.

  I lied.

  I’d come to realize that Alaric and Meg may not have been on the best terms, but she and his bank account got along just fine.

  Of the boxes I’d gotten to, three were filled with designer purses. One was just bags of vacuum sealed heels.

  The shoe thing I could understand. I knew some women loved to switch things up daily, but who the hell needed so many handbags? I only had two.

  I stood from my spot on the floor, arching my back to loosen some kinks. It’d taken me forty-five minutes to accomplish this meager amount of progress. I had emptied every box and peeked inside each purse to make sure nothing important would be donated or sold to whoever ended up with Meg’s things. I think I deserved a break.

  I surveyed the room before leaving, retallying the boxes that remained just to be sure. The space was so impersonal. There weren’t any feminine touches or signs someone had ever actually slept in here.

  As I made my way down to the kitchen, I kept an eye out for any pictures of Meg on the walls. There weren’t any—of anyone, not just her. Only more of the same from what to be a costly collection.

  Stopping to examine the image at the top of the stairs. Seeing it again had me thinking of Alaric’s comments from the previous day.

  He said art and insanity went hand
in hand, but there was something to be said about a man who found beauty within it and the woman that agreed with him. Pulling my gaze from the erotic painting, I continued down the stairs. If not for the waves rolling in the nearby ocean, there would be absolute stillness inside the large house. I wasn’t used to it.

  Back home I had Hamtaro and the steady flow of traffic a few feet outside my front door.

  All Alaric had was the sea.

  Such a stark contrast, one that I could see growing on me. Knowing I would never have the companionship so many others were fortunate to find--having issues forging new relationships in general, I’d become a fan of solitude. Where others may find anguish in being alone, I found an escape.

  It was hard to imagine Meg living here in such a way. I got the feeling; we were complete opposites in our interests just as were in looks. Meg was Caucasian and had cherry blonde hair. I couldn’t say what her body looked like, but I knew she was smaller than I was and clearly liked to shop. She probably enjoyed being social as well.

  In the kitchen, I dug through the fridge, finding a small block of cheese, a bag of apples, and some carrots.

  I pulled everything out and used them to make a small platter, adding a cold glass of water. It wasn’t until I was done eating and had finished cleaning up my mess that my curiosity returned to the basement door.

  I didn’t see the correlation in Alaric wanting seclusion to work and being a surgeon. I reached out and touched the door. The tempered glass was thick, cool too. Cooler than the rest of the house. Leaning a little closer, I examined what I thought was a thermostat the night before, now seeing it wasn’t.

  I wasn’t sure how I’d made that assumption now that I was this close to the thing.

  It was some type of high-tech keypad, equipped with what appeared to be a fingerprint scanner. What could he possibly have in his basement that warranted something this extreme?

  A clearing of a throat had me jumping away from the device, hand flying to my chest. I whirled around to see Demetri watching me from the far side of the kitchen.

  “Are you alright, Miss Haven?”

  “I’m fine, you just scared me. And please, call me Catalina. Or Cat.”

  He regarded me with a stoic expression before a subtle nod was given. “Alright Catalina, was there a reason you needed to access the basement?”

  I crossed my arms and shook my head. “No, I was just wondering why its locked down like this.”

  “Mr. Schuyler values his privacy.” It was impossible to miss the stiffness in his tone.

  “I can see that.”

  He moved a little closer, barely an inch, but it was enough to put me on alert. “As you adjust to being here, you’ll begin to see that a house such as this one--.” He paused and glanced around the room, clearing his throat. “If you seek out his secrets, be prepared for the consequences.”

  With that, he turned and left the room. I remained where I was, rigid and wondering what the hell had just happened. Was that a warning, or a threat?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I was only here to try and ease some of the festering guilt I had over my sister’s sudden passing. I hadn’t come to unearth secrets or fall in lust with her husband.

  If Demetri had meant to warn me, he’d only managed to do the opposite. I couldn’t get his ominous words out of my head. They could have been nothing more than wasted air, my gut told me that wasn’t the case. Something wasn’t right here. I felt that in my bones.

  Curiosity could be a troublesome bitch and mine was like a cat fixated on its prey. The more it alluded me, the stronger I’d pursue it. There was a thrilling aura of danger that had me contemplating just how far I’d go to figure out who Alaric truly was and the truth about my sister.

  With no motivation to start digging through Meg’s things again, I lingered around for an hour or so before finding myself in the great room.

  The sun shined in through the glass windows, reflecting off the grand piano. Its lure was magnetic. It’d once been a dream of mine to own one, something my mom had never, and would never understand. My Nan had started teaching me to play when I was small girl.

  If there was one person on this planet that understood the fear I had for the things inside my head, it was her.

  She gave me a desperately needed outlet. Playing became my way of escape. The piano gave me the freedom to express myself without words. I chased the music for years, using it as a crutch to get through two brutal years of high school.

  When she died, so did a part of me. The pain I felt over losing her compared to my sister was staggering. She wouldn’t have wanted me to give the piano up, but it felt almost wrong to keep going without her. I missed it, though. Missed them both.

  I looked around to make sure I was alone, then slid onto the plush bench. Skimming my fingers over the keys--all eighty-eight of them, I was in slight awe of how well-kept this beauty was.

  From the indention in the center of the bench, either Alaric or Meg played often. My money was on the former. That shouldn’t have impressed me as much as it did.

  The sheet on the music shelf was titled Moonlight Menschen. I hadn’t heard of this before. I ignored it. Taking a breath, I tested out a few keys. The clean brassy sounds rang through the air. Going with something basic but also one of my favorites, I adjusted my seating and began to play a rendition of Chopin.

  It'd been awhile but it didn’t take long for me to find my groove, my brain and my fingers knew each numbered key to stroke without needing a sheet in front of me. The music flowed through my veins as notes and cords swirled inside my head.

  I lost myself in the moment, time fell away. Unaware I was being watched, I kept going until my knuckles cramped from the exertion

  When at last I couldn’t strum another key, I raised my arms above my head in a stretch, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

  “I thought you didn’t play.”

  I yelped in surprise; my knee slammed against the underside of the piano as I scrambled off the bench.

  “Ouch, shit!” I folded over, clutching where it throbbed.

  Alaric was at my side before I could process that he’d moved from where he’d been lurking.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. Here, sit down.” He took hold of my upper arm and led me to the sofa. I sunk down and he crouched in front of me, pulling my hand away.

  He gently probed the area, examining what had turned red.

  “I know that hurt like a sonofabitch, but I think you’ll live,” he teased. His impossibly blue eyes stared up at me from beneath thick lashes. A genial smile curved his lips.

  After a minute of us studying one another, something we seemed to do quite often, his gaze fell. I felt the caress of his eyes as they moved over my skin.

  “You have nice legs,” he remarked quietly.

  “Uh, well, I’m fine now. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I chirped, thinking it would get him to remove his hand from my knee. It didn’t.

  The twisted part of me rejoiced, silently urging him to reach a little higher, slip beneath my dress and touch the place that was aching for his attention.

  I wanted him to finger fuck my cunt until I came all over his fingers. I’d lick each inch of them clean before I deep throated his cock. He’d slip inside me after I sucked him dry. Not gently, though. He’d force his way in before I was ready, I’d love it. He would fuck me until I bled, until I saturated his dick and could no longer feel my legs.

  “You’re breathing just changed,” he noted almost absentmindedly, continuing to gently rub my knee. “You’re warmer.”

  I listened to see if I could hear myself, but the only thing I detected was the rapid pounding of my heart. The change in the way my chest rose and fell was subtle, but he’d noticed.

  Did that mean he noticed me?

  If his hand wasn’t rubbing against my skin would he know how hot I felt inside?

  His eyes returned to mine, probing too deeply for comfort. I swallowed around the sudden lump in
my throat and attempted to divert my gaze.

  “Where did you just go, bellissima?”

  “I didn’t go anywhere.”

  His hand left my knee and cupped my chin. He turned my head and forced me to meet his stare head on. “You don’t have to tell me what you’re really thinking, but don’t ever lie to me.”

  “W-what does that b word mean?” I deflected, cursing myself for stuttering. Never in my life had someone rendered me a tongue-tied mess.

  Without answering my question, he let me go and laughed under his breath, rising to sit beside me on the sofa, his intoxicating cologne flowing into my air space. He stared across the room at the piano, looking thoughtful.

  I toyed with one of the sunflowers near the hem of my dress, checking him out through my peripheral.

  He was freshly shaven, the dusting of his stubble low and neat. The hair on his head was styled to be messy, but sophisticated. Needing to fill the silence and stop myself from eye fucking him before I combusted, I shifted and motioned towards the piano.

  “Is the heavy usage from you, or my sister?”

  “Your sister hated that piano. She wanted to replace it with a pool table. I need to play, so the piano stayed.”

  “Need?”

  “It helps me…” he narrowed his eyes in thought. “Unwind, you could say. Calms me down.”

  I understood that all too well. I knew what it felt like to need the beauty of the melodic beast too.

  “And you? From your posture to your skill, you’re no novice. Why did you tell me you didn’t play?”

  “I don’t. Not anymore. My Nan taught me when I was younger.”

  “Then I already know she’s an amazing woman.”

  “She was…”

  He turned to look at me. “Was?”

  “She’s gone.” A burst of emotion clogged my throat, making my reply barely audible. I shifted away from him, swallowing it down. “Sorry. I don’t usually talk about her.”

  He reached over and took hold of my hand. “You don’t have to apologize for that, ever. And if you do ever feel the need to talk about it, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”