The Nememiah Chronicles Collection - Books 1-3

3. The Falls-2

"You just tried to kill yourself,""That"s probably given him an exceptional adrenaline boost"It was pitch black by the time Lucas"s pace slowed and I opened my eyes, glancing around to try to establish where we were. My entire body was freezing and where areas rested against Lucas, they seemed even colder. Everything seemed to be back to front, tipped on its head and I shivered wildly. I was beyond caring about where he was taking me; if it didn"t involve getting warmer, I was going to freeze to death.

He"d slowed near a vast house, constructed right on the riverfront. Built of rough-hewn blocks of gray granite, it comprised two stories with gracefully arched windows and white wooden shutters. The porch lights were on, welcoming in the freezing night air.

“Wh— whe— where a—are… w—w—we?” I stuttered.

“My home,” Lucas growled. His voice was filled with irritation and I cringed, knowing it was my fault he was so furious. Had he guessed what I was doing at the falls? It was highly likely – what other i***t would be standing at the edge of a waterfall and stepping closer?

He pushed open the front door and strode purposefully through the house, walking down a hallway to a large bathroom. Only then did he carefully drop me onto the floor, leaning my shivering form against the vanity to ensure I wasn"t going to fall. He turned on a shower on the opposite wall, avoiding my gaze and holding his hand under the water as he waited for it to heat up. When steam was wafting towards the ceiling, he beckoned me with a curl of his finger. “Get in.”

I stared up at him in disbelief, my teeth chattering. “With you in here?”

He flashed a grim smile. “Leave your clothes on. If you can promise not to get into any more trouble, I"ll get you some clothes.”

I nodded and tried to walk across the room, but my frozen legs wouldn"t co-operate. In a split-second, he was at my side, supporting me until I got to the shower and helping me step inside the large cubicle. I sank to the floor, letting the steaming hot water fall over my head and onto my icy limbs.

Without a word, Lucas turned and strode from the room, shutting the door behind him. His anger was palpable, his frustration evident and I cringed unhappily, knowing I was the cause of it.

I didn"t know how long it was that I sat hunched on the shower floor, but sensation eventually returned to my limbs and I felt almost human again. I got to my feet slowly and considered the bizarre situation. With steaming hot water running over my shoulders, I glanced around the room, admiring its opulence. It was a stunning bathroom, with large, sage green granite tiles on the walls and floors. Warm and inviting, there was an enormous spa next to the shower and the vanity stretched from one end of the opposite wall to the door, ornately framed mirrors placed over the double basins. As I started to thaw out, I considered what to do next. Should I undress and shower properly, or remain clothed and wait for Lucas to return? As if this afternoon"s fiasco hadn"t been bad enough, I certainly didn"t want him walking in and finding me naked. I was self-conscious, not sure exactly what to do. My gaze flickered around the room again and I noticed a neat pile of clothes sitting on the vanity. I wasn"t sure when Lucas had brought them in, or how he"d snuck in without my knowledge, but the opportunity to wallow in this fabulous shower was too tempting to refuse. I tugged off my clothes, squeezing the water out of each item and hanging it neatly over the glass block wall.

Reluctantly dragging myself from the shower, I found a plush bath sheet hanging on a heated towel rail. After drying off, I perused the clothes Lucas had delivered; astounded to find they were mine – fresh underwear, jeans, and a sweater. How had he known where I lived, and how had he gotten inside my house? Just another couple of questions, to which I had no answers, and while I was uneasy about this turn of events, I was grateful to be dry and warm. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to neaten up the tangled mess and glanced at the mirror, to see how much of a disaster it actually was.

A stranger looked back and I realized with a jolt, how long it had been since I"d actually looked at a mirror. I barely recognized the girl staring back at me, she was thinner than I recalled, with longer hair and eyes with dark smudges around them. There was a haunted, fragile look to her face. Where once she"d had rounded cheeks, now there were sharply etched cheekbones. Her hair had once been shoulder length, perpetually straightened – now she had a mass of dark curls, which fell to the top of her hips. I turned away, not wanting to see the haunted look in those green eyes. Once they"d been vibrant, full of excitement about life. That time was long ago.

I noticed a brush on the vanity and recognized it as my own, impressed by how thoughtful Lucas was, even if he had broken into my house. I picked up the brush and dragged it through my tangled curls, trying to release some of the knots. A second cautious glance at the girl in the mirror confirmed I"d done the best I could.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

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I crept down the hallway cautiously; uncomfortably aware that Lucas was undoubtedly waiting for an explanation, as to how he"d ended up with a lunatic in his home.

The house was spectacular, affluent, but understated with top quality furnishings and fittings. From the bathroom, I wandered in what I hoped was the general direction we"d taken, hesitant to be walking through his home like an intruder. The hallway led to another, wider passage with closed doors on either side and thankfully, I saw what looked like the living room at the end of the hall. A cheery fire was burning in an open hearth and the curtains at each side of the fireplace had been drawn against the night. White leather couches faced each other on either side of the fireplace with a large mahogany coffee table between, stacked with artistically placed magazines. Armchairs in latte colored leather were placed in other parts of the massive room, set in groups of two or three. The walls held a number of paintings, some of which I recognized as having been created by the great artists of Europe. A grand piano stood on a raised dais in an alcove and to my left was a doorway, which revealed a modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances and dark wooden bench tops.

Lucas appeared from a doorway beside the piano and offered me a forced smile, one that didn"t quite reach his eyes. “How do you feel?”

I nodded uncomfortably, squirming on the spot. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?” He strode into the room, spectacular in snug blue jeans and a white sweater, which stretched across broad shoulders and a well-muscled chest.

I shook my head quickly and tugged anxiously at the hem of my sweater. “Um, no. Thanks.” I glanced down at my watch, recalling too late that it was no longer working, after a very thorough dunking in the river. “I should be getting home.”

Lucas ignored my suggestion as if I hadn"t spoken. “Come sit down by the fire. You still look a little cold.” He inclined his head towards one of the couches and I took him up on the offer, sitting hesitantly on the edge, from where I could enjoy the heat radiating from the burning logs. Lucas opened an expansively stocked liquor cabinet and poured a measure of brandy into a balloon, swirling the liquid gently before giving it to me. “Drink this; it will help to warm you.”

I took the proffered glass and sipped from it, the warm liquid trailing down my throat, and creating a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. It made me feel a little better and I watched as Lucas sat down opposite me, his eyes never leaving my face. He sat wordlessly for quite a while, staring at me with those startling blue eyes. I noticed the dark smudges under his eyes, realized with a wave of guilt that rescuing me from the river had probably exhausted him. He looked pale – at least, paler than he normally did and I squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, knowing I was entirely responsible for putting him in this position.

He must have noticed my discomfort. “What is the matter, Charlotte?” He had an unusual way of speaking, very articulate, extremely polite and he didn"t use contractions very often. It was both disarming and… kind of charming, as if he came from a different era, when people were far more eloquent and polite.

“Your eyes. I"ve never seen anything like them—” I began, my embarrassment at studying him so blatantly, bringing me to an indecisive halt.

“What about them?” His eyes never left mine and I wondered for the millionth time, how he could possibly be so striking. It simply wasn"t natural.

“They"re… they"re such an unusual shade of blue and they have flashes of—” I stopped for a second time, feeling utterly ridiculous. No doubt, he"d think I was even more moronic than I already appeared, if I started rambling about his eyes. Sheesh, what on earth was wrong with me?

A multitude of emotions flickered across those same unusual eyes before he visibly shut himself down, his expression becoming an impassive mask. “Were you trying to commit suicide at the waterfall today?” he questioned abruptly, his voice cold.

My eyes widened at the unexpected question and I lowered my gaze to my hands, unwilling to discuss the subject and unable to meet his piercing stare. Of course, he wanted an explanation, the man had leapt into a river because of me – he deserved an answer, but I had nothing to give him.

“Charlotte, tell me the truth,” he pressed.

I stood up abruptly, determined to get out of this house and away from his prying. What right did he have to question me like this? He didn"t even know me. If he hadn"t turned up when he did, I"d have accomplished my goal— hang on a minute. “Where you following me?” I voiced the question without thought, incredulous at the idea he might have been trailing me. Why else would he have been right there – out of all the areas in the forest where he could have taken a stroll, how did he happen to be right near the falls, close enough to stop me from achieving my goal? It was the only explanation and now I was angry, trying to figure out why he would be following me, what game he was playing. There was also the question of how he knew where my house was – was he some sort of crazed stalker?

followingFor a full minute, Lucas watched me and I stared back defiantly, waiting for a response. I"d diverted him from his question with one of my own, and by the look on his face, he was wrestling with how to react. While I should probably be sprinting for the door, I was frozen to the spot. He just didn"t seem like a stalker, although I had no point of reference for such a ridiculous and almost certainly, dangerous assumption. And the man had put me in a shower, without attempting to attack me, so in some wacky way, I felt this explained my vacillation. Or maybe I"d frozen the last of my functioning brain cells in the river. Finally, he spoke. “I see we have an impasse. You don"t want to answer my question and I don"t believe I"m ready to answer yours. How about we start with something easier?”