CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Date with the Devil
The dress Christian chose for me for my date with Charles was less scandalous than I expected. He chose a dress that put all the emphasis on my shoulders and none on my chest. It was a pale apricot and flattered my red hair. He painted my lips and eyelids a red that was almost an orange and arranged my curls into a low bun, allowing ringlets to spill around my face. While he worked on my hair with a curling iron, I told him the story King Christian had told me about the Roman emperor’s wife.
“He’s made you prettier than she ever was… or I have. Whatever. In a lineup, Nero would have fallen for you before any other woman. So, do it tonight. Make Charles fall for you. There’s a hotel one block from the restaurant. I booked a room for you there.”
“When Pricina told me that my life with you would be rotten, I didn’t really believe her. I thought we’d always be on the side with clean hands. We’ve never plotted murder before,” I whispered.
“Having regrets, little Bethie?” he asked, doing a bad job hiding his feelings. However he normally felt about killing, this was an exception where it didn’t bother him at all.
Stubbornly, I didn’t answer.
“Real women kill spiders, rats, and scorpions when there’s no one around to do it for them. This isn’t different because he’s a human. I’m sorry I can’t be the bait.”
I snickered uneasily. “If we had a different plan, you could be the bait.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this plan. It’s convenient and available. It’s a hundred times more deceptive than a normal plan because Charles thinks this was all his idea. He phoned you. Besides,” Christian said, letting a completed ringlet fall against my neck. “I need you to do this for me. If even the smallest part of you wants to keep your heart from me, now is the time to admit it.”
My mouth fell open, aghast. “What are you saying?”
He minced no words. “If you refuse to do this for me, our marriage will never be real because you will be refusing to give your heart to me. Your heart will be in another man’s body. How can we be married then?”
I stood up, turned, and met his eyes in an angry sweep. I expected his expression to be threatening and intimidating, but it wasn’t. Even though he was wearing Tremaine’s face, he was still wearing the expression he wore when he tried to give me my freedom on that miserable Christmas Eve. I relaxed. He was not trying to coerce me. What he said was a fact, not a threat.
I looked him over, searching for more information about how he felt. I started with the backs of his square hands that I loved so much and moved my way across his heavy-boned elbows to his collarbone, to his lips (that contained no trace of amusement or scorn), to his eyes that only showed concern and longing for this to be over. Everything was fine… I was only being squeamish because I had time to think about what we were doing. If everything was happening at once, in my face, I wouldn’t hesitate. What I did at the prison showed me that I was willing to get bloodied up for his sake.
“If you don’t want to do it when the time comes, don’t worry. I’ll do it.”
I let out a breath that had been in me too long. “Will Brandon make it to perform the surgery?”
“Yes. He just texted me from the airport. He’ll be here in an hour. ”
I nodded and adjusted my earring. “And Rhuk, don’t forget to watch Trinity for me. I can’t stand for her to see this.”
The stone kissed my cheek, while Christian brushed his lips against my other cheek so he wouldn’t ruin my lipstick, and though I didn’t feel like I was ready, it was time to go.
***
I stood across the street spying on the steakhouse with Christian by my side. I wore a long coat over my dress and Christian stood towering over me with his magnificent height shielding me from view. We watched Charles emerge from the passenger side of a car and head into the restaurant ahead of me exactly one minute before I was set to meet him. The car dropped him off and drove away.
“Is anyone following him, Rhuk?” I whispered.
“No. Charles told Dr. Bobby that he was going on a date and Bobby was wise enough to realize that if he didn’t go, he might rebel in a more disastrous way. The good doctor has a man coming by in a half an hour to check on him.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get him to leave the restaurant with less than half an hour to work,” I complained.
“What we want is for the man to see you at the table, think the two of you will be there all night, and leave. Let them research you,” Christian advised, kissing my fingertips. “It’s not going to matter. No matter how this goes, we can make you a new identity every time we need to.”
“This is gross,” I lamented with bitterness between my lips.
“Get going. I’ll see you at the hotel after I meet up with Brandon no matter what happens.”
I slipped away from him and feeling the need to assert my dignity, I made my back straighter, my step lighter, and my smile better as I stepped into the steakhouse with the air of a woman who only had naughty things on her mind.
Charles was in line to speak to the hostess, looking more like Christian Henderson than he had any right to. I tugged on his elbow and he turned to see me.
“Holly,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. From a distance, I would have thought he was Christian. Up close, the effect was lost. He was dressed as a sad imitation. He didn’t know how to choose his suit and he didn’t wear it as well as my man did. However, it was a vast improvement from the beer-stained t-shirts that had been wrinkled on the floor.
“Looking good,” I lied, smacking my tongue against my teeth.
Our turn in line came up and we were shown to our table. The server pulled my chair out for me and handed me a menu. Ever since I had become immortal, my relationship with food had changed. Now I could eat anything I wanted. Anything King Christian didn’t have a use for, he discarded.
King Christian said my insides were becoming like diamonds. I knew what he was talking about, the beautiful and incredibly strong ties between carbon atoms presented one of nature’s strongest bonds. That was what he meant when he said he was trading corruptible for incorruptible.
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Among other things, the king also told me, “When you’re out, go ahead and order wine. I won’t let a drop of it touch your bloodstream. It’ll be like bullets to you.”
It was strange that I found his words more comforting than anything the real Christian had said to me since he woke up.
I turned to the server and talked to him about red wine, while Charles looked over the menu. He wasn’t interested, so I ordered a bottle for us hoping it might loosen Charles up. “It’s a special occasion,” I said, a flirty grin playing across my features like a melody.
“Is it?” he asked. “Why?”
I didn’t like any of this, but if I failed, what mess would I make?
Ready to play, I leaned forward, absently tracing an invisible pattern on my bare shoulder. “You’re exactly my type.”
Charles smiled. It was a sick little smile. It was a smile that said that he knew he was attractive. He had been doused in makeup, wigged, and dressed to imitate the man I loved best in the whole world. He thought this was what a woman wanted because I had wanted Christian instead of him.
“Tell me about your type,” he said, flapping his menu shut as though he didn’t care if he had a single bite to eat.
“I like a man who isn’t afraid to take what he wants. Very few men can call a woman up and just ask her on a date the way you did. Most men beat around the bush and say stupid things. They are either begging to be put in the friend zone or begging to be replaced with a stronger man. You didn’t do either of those grotesque things. I don’t feel like your buddy. I like that.”
“Usually a woman orders one tiny glass of wine to drink, not the bottle.”
“We needn’t drink it if we don’t like it,” I said like wine wasn’t a tenth as interesting as the man in front of me.
The server came back. Charles ordered a steak and I ordered a salad.
“Don’t you want a steak to go with your red wine?” Charles asked, sitting at an angle that would have looked good if he had been dressed well.
The idea of eating a steak made me feel sick. “I only suggested we come here because I thought it would make you more likely to agree to meet me. It’s not often I get asked out by a man of your quality.”
The server left, but returned a moment later and poured the wine.
“What do you do for a living?” Charles asked me.
“Whatever I want,” I said haughtily.
Charles liked that. Immediately, he warmed up to me in a way that was more genuine than before. “You’re that rich, are you? That you can do whatever you want?”
“Aren’t you?” I asked in a challenging tone.
“Maybe I am… when you put it like that. Should we have a toast?” he asked, raising his wine glass.
I raised my glass to match his. “Yes. What should we toast to?”
He thought for a moment. “A new woman to get my engine running.”
I wasn’t sure if he sounded cool or horrible. It was a thin line.
I clinked glasses with him and took a sip. “So,” I said, leaning forward. “Who were the old models who used to get your engine running?”
“I’d rather not say. You went to boarding school around here, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
Suddenly, he decided to put his cards on the table. “You mentioned Beth Coldwell before. Were you friends with her?”
He was having dinner with me because he was hoping I would give him a lead after all.
I sucked my breath in and acted a little jealous that the conversation was not about me. “No. She was friends with Trinity Powell, not me. I only remember two things about Beth and both of them revolve around the men she had in her life. She had that really handsome guardian, Christian Henderson, and one time she made out with this ridiculously hot redhead outside the school gates, Charles Lewis. It almost made her look cool.”
Charles was neither of those men, but he liked hearing both things because he was dressed like Christian at the moment and the other man had been Christian dressed to look like him. I understood in a moment that he was bent on becoming Christian. This wasn’t even about me. He wasn’t obsessed with me. He never had been. This was all about Christian and Charles’ obsession with him. He wanted to take everything Christian had and take his place. He was out to dinner with me not because he wanted information exactly. He was with me because he wanted to use me, to help him feel like he was Christian.
Now I knew how to direct the conversation. I knew exactly what he wanted.
“Was Beth an old flame of yours?” I persisted, unable to hide the disgust mingling with my conviction.
“You sound like you don’t approve,” he observed.
“She was fat.” I made my ridicule sound musical and harmless. It was on the edge of what I had always believed to be possible with intonation. I sounded as innocent and beautiful as a songbird, even though I was introducing maliciousness into our conversation.
“She was a little fat. I saw her undressed often enough.” He was unable to make his voice as harmless as mine.
“You did?” I squealed.
He met my eyes and grinned. “She was always taking her clothes off.”
Even though the only times he had seen me undress were through spitefully obtained video surveillance, my smile didn’t slip.
“You should see me take my clothes off,” I said, laying my hand palm up on the table and running a finger along the veins in my wrist. “I would blow your mind.”
He was about to say something about that when our food was brought. I speared a cherry tomato on my plate and wondered if eating it would ruin my enjoyment of tomatoes eternally.
“Were there many other women besides Beth?” I asked, curious about what else he had been up to since I had last seen him.
He spilled a bit of sauce on his lapel. “She was the only one that mattered.” He tried wiping the stain with his napkin. I tried to look away but still saw him lick the stain before abandoning any attempt to clean it. I almost gagged but I somehow managed to act like I didn’t notice.
“What about you?” Charles asked me.
“Have I had a lot of lovers?”
“Yeah?” His steak knife grated across the plate in an ear-splitting screech.
I did not want to say what I planned to say next, but I had been biding my time with my conversation so far. Now was the time to make my move. He didn’t love me as Beth. He wasn’t even interested in me. I had to give him what he was really interested in and I had to spin it in a way that made him want to accompany me to the hotel after we were finished eating. That was the goal.
I leaned forward and whispered, “Well, the first man I did it with was Christian Henderson.”
Charles’ head popped up like he had a spring in his throat. “How is that possible?”
“Didn’t Beth complain to you about how he was never around and he didn’t give her a tenth of the attention she wanted? He’d be at parties at the school and slip out for a few minutes. It was so funny because everyone suspected he was having sex with Beth on the side, but he would never touch her. She was way below his standards. A man like that could be with anyone he wanted and he could not keep his hands off me.”
Charles looked at me sideways and I wasn’t sure if he believed the wild story that just came out of my mouth.
“Do you want to hear what he used to do to me?” I whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
Charles’ mouth hung open. He had never been more interested in anything anyone had ever said before, not even when they offered to cut my heart out of Christian and give it to him.
I continued, “I have a hotel room down the block. How about if I show you what he used to do to me?”
Charles dropped his fork.
Before he could answer, the server noticed we were no longer eating and approached the table to ask how we were doing.
“Please pack everything up and prepare us the bill as quickly as possible,” I said, rising from the table. “My date isn’t feeling well. I need to put him to bed.”
The server was almost as seduced as Charles as he swished our plates from the table.
“Holly… I…” Charles stuttered.
“You started this,” I said firmly, “talking so freely to me about what Beth Coldwell looks like undressed. You clearly have not been with a real woman and only a pathetic, entitled, fat, little orphan. You deserve this. I wasn’t lying about the hotel. We’ll finish eating there.”