Hyde (The Devil's Roses #3)

Hyde (The Devil's Roses #3) Page 6

She wouldn’t tell him anything else if she could remember. Anything else would incriminate her. The memories stopped at the hazy stomachache, “I don’t know. There is nothing else.”

He smiled, “Well remembering Starbucks and the cookies is something.”

She nodded weakly, “Yeah.” The memories she did have were plaguing her. She remembered Rebecca's face clearer than any memory she had in her entire mind. She was holding her coffee and laughing about the very good-looking and extremely flirty barista.

He put his hand on hers encompassing it completely, his skin was warm to the touch, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She looked up at him feeling the tears again, she wanted to tell him everything. His honest face demanded it from her. She hated the idea of lying to him.

“I will see you at your parents house tomorrow.” He spoke standing.

She looked at him confused, “My parents house?”

He closed his eyes, “Right sorry your aunt and uncles.”

She nodded, “Tomorrow?”

He nodded, “Yes, I will be posting a watch at your house. The drugs the kidnapper used on you are blocking your memories. The kidnapper might not know that.”

She bit her lip, “You think I could be in danger still?”

He nodded, “Whoever did this to you and Rebecca may want to finish the job.”

Terror filled her, the lack of answers was alarming. Her aunt and uncle could want to finish what they started, if it was really them. If it wasn’t a madman could be after her. Either way she didn’t like the way she felt.

He squeezed her hand once before letting go, “Don’t worry, we wont let anyone hurt you.”

He walked from the room.

She whispered, “Can you stop me from hurting anyone?”

Chapter Four: Mithter Marcuth

She changed into the jeans and the sweater Roland had left her. He had even bought her the very clogs she had wanted from the shoe store at the mall. She frowned wondering about him and put them on. She waited for the mysterious Marcus Dragomir to enter her room.

She remembered the face she had given him in her dreams, she wondered what he would look like.

She felt him before she saw him, the room grew cold and her heart rate quickened. Suddenly a slight breeze lifted her hair. She smelled a dark amber incense fill the air and she looked at the entrance of the room, knowing somehow, he would walk through.

He stepped in looking exactly as she had dreamt, only his clothes were different. He wore dark jeans tailored to fit him perfectly and a pea coat.

“Hello love.” His dark voice filled her with thoughts she hadn’t known her brain could muster. Well except when reading her aunts trashy novels about Scottish lords and young helpless maidens.

“Hello Mr. Dragomir.” She wanted to seem more mature, but her voice cracked under the pressure and she slightly lisped the Mr. part of his name.

He smiled, “Marcus, please call me Marcus. Are you well?” His English accent was completely intact. It was as if he hadn’t lived in the US for very long.

She smiled back, feeling lost for a small moment, “Fine Marcus, I’m fine.”

He clasped his hands together, “Then shall we be off?”

She stood from her bed and walked behind him. He paused at the door letting her go through first. They walked until they came upon her doctor.

Marcus smiled extending his hand to him, “We are leaving.”

The doctor smiled at Hanna, “You're a very lucky girl, Dr. Dragomir doesn’t usually take patients on. I hope your memories come back to you.”

She looked confusedly at the Dr. and the supposed Dr. and nodded slowly, “Yeah thanks, me too.”

Marcus put his hand out for the doctor, “It was nice seeing you again Frank. Happy Thanksgiving.”

He smiled and shook his hand, “You too. Take care Hanna.”

“Thanks.” She felt more lost than ever. They walked to the elevator.

She stepped in shaking her head as the doors closed, “Doctor?”

He laughed looking at her, “Eternity is a long time love. I have several doctorates.”

She frowned, “Is one in psychology?”

He nodded, “It is indeed.” He stood rigidly at the entrance not looking at her. She watched him like a tiger would watch a hare. She couldn’t bear the smell of him, it made her want to spin him around and kiss him passionately.

The elevator dinged for the ground floor, waking her from the visions she was having.

He turned smiling at her, “Sorry I’m a bit like Santa would be for little kids, its not intentional.” She blushed realizing he could hear her panting as she imagined ripping his clothes off and licking up his throat.

She bit her lips, “How can I make it stop?”

He shrugged, “Not sure but I know women have grown to detest me so intensely they learned to hate the scent.” He stepped off the elevator holding the door for her, “Perhaps you will be one of those lucky ones.”

She nodded wishing it as well, she hated not controlling her feelings around him. She didn’t even know what he was. Not like she knew what she was either.

She made it as far as the black car waiting for them at the front of the hospital. An older driver opened the door for them. She climbed in first, feeling her head clear of her feelings for him, until he got into the car. The smell filled the car putting her into a trance. She opened the window as the driver started the car and put her head out.

Marcus laughed, “Its not that bad is it?”

She groaned, “It's making me car sick is all.” She lied. His smell was making her insane, she wanted to destroy him. She wanted to sink her teeth into his skin, hearing him moan in pain and pleasure simultaneously.

“Who are you?” she asked out the window.

He chuckled, “All in due time love.”

“Its Hanna, not love.”

“Hanna isn’t actually your name.”

She pulled her head in the window giving him a look of absurdity, “What?”

He shook his head, “No your real name is Maria Hanna Jekyll.”

She burst into laughter, “Jekyll, no it's Holland”

He put his hands in the air, “Its true your father changed his name several times in his life. But your real last name is Jekyll. Your first named came from his mother, an Italian woman who married a Scottish man named Jekyll.”

“In the seventeen hundreds right?”

He grinned mischievously, “You’ve read the journals.”

She nodded as the car made its way into the night traffic downtown, "It's too bizarre to understand."

He leaned into her, “There is much for you to understand Hanna.” His breath swept softly across her face increasing her heartbeats. Her breath became ragged as he leaned against her speaking slowly, “I’ve always wondered about you. I was forbidden to make contact while he was alive."

She looked into his dark blue eyes, so dark they appeared to be black from a distance. Up close they were crystal clear and navy. The darkest longest lashes she had ever seen, framed his beautiful eyes. His skin was olive and smooth, as if no beard grew on his face but up close she could see the stubble very faintly. His dark hair sat perfectly coifed on his head, as if a stylist had readied him to come and see her. He had a slight faux hawk with his hair being pulled forward and not one strand out of place. His face was strong with chiseled cheekbones and jaw line. His lips were as sensual as she recalled. They moved with his breath, that was apparently as ragged as her own. He examined her as she did him. She noticed how his upper lip twitched as if he wanted to say something.

She smiled, “Where are we going?”

He leaned in pressing his lips against hers softly at first. The taste of his mouth filled hers, the amber incense filled her nostrils. She moaned into the kiss as he pulled her up onto his lap. She met the hunger and passion in his kiss and upped the ante with her fingers sliding through his perfect hair, pulling it slightly. He moaned into her, gripping the pockets of her jeans, grinding her against him. The car stopped bringing her back to reality.

She pulled away breathless looking at him, “What are you?” She whispered.

He frowned, “Nothing. And everything.” He smirked, “Well after you my lady.”

She sighed, “I know what you are.” He looked nervous as she kissed his lips, “You’re trouble.”

He laughed into her kiss, “Without a doubt.”

She climbed off of him feeling ridiculously, as she exited the car door. The strange and silent driver held the door for her. She looked at the older man, “Thank you.” He tipped his hat at her. She knew instantly he was like his boss, like her father, he was old but much older than he seemed.

Marcus climbed from the car and gave her his arm. She took it feeling like Mary in her father's journals suddenly. She looked around realizing she was home.

She looked at him confused, “Why are we at my house?”

“This isn’t your house Hanna, this never was. The Tudor is your home. This is your aunt and uncles home. We are here because it’s the night they never thought would come.”

She rolled her eyes sighing, irritated by the cryptic behavior everyone around her seemed to have.

He laughed, “No I’m serious, they never loved you. Your father and I were friends, I’ve watched you grow up.”

She cringed away from him, “You’re like a creepy uncle then? No wonder he forbid you to make contact with me.”

He laughed again, “No not quite but I guess in some ways I’m the closest thing you have to family. Well and Roland of course.”

She looked at him disgustedly, “You kissed me, you think of me as family and you kissed me.”

He tilted his head, “I don’t think of you like I’m related to you, I’ve just known you your entire life and you father nearly all of his.”

She looked away seeing the light of her aunt's house from the suburban street where they walked, “Why are we here?”