Page 21 of The Silence of Monsters

“I…” I felt bewildered by the question because I was blindsided by the hint of longing in his voice. And then an all-consuming kiss suddenly slammed down onto my lips.

It was the first kiss we shared that didn’t involve putting on a show.

It was the first kiss that didn’t feel poisonous.

It was the first kiss that made me question whether I wanted him kissing me.

This kiss made me wonder if I was losing my damn mind.

Win

Channing wasn’t the only one with a growing list of grievances.

I was sick of unexplained things happening at the estate when I wasn’t around. It was one thing to blame a teenager’s overactive imagination. It was another that Channing had a detailed list of odd occurrences. I understood why she wanted cameras inside our wing, but my home was the single place I wasn’t being watched. It made my skin crawl to think about adding surveillance to my private space. I didn’t want to worry about Winnie. No security system was one hundred percent secure. If I installed one at home and it got hacked, I couldn’t imagine the damage it would do or how big of a bargaining chip the footage would be in the wrong hands.

Channing firmly believed that the missing items would resurface in a sinister manner. She questioned if my mother might frame her with an evidence trail that led from a crime that would lead to Channing’s arrest. It sounded diabolical, but my mother was indeed conniving and clever enough to frame someone. Which meant I had to be on high alert.

I was at my wit’s end because my mother swore she wasn’t behind the supposed haunting, and for once I believed her. I wasn’t as convinced she didn’t have someone messing with Channing on her behalf, but so far Rocco hadn’t been able to find any evidence of that.. The more I pushed, the more ammunition it gave my mother to question Channing and Winnie’s sanity. She accused me of enabling the redhead and warned that the growing paranoia would adversely affect my niece. Without concrete proof that she was involved, we were at a stalemate. It grated on my last nerve that my hard-won sanctuary was anything but peaceful.

I was furious whenever Channing left for the city to work for my half-brother. I understood it was a strategic move on her part, and that she only took the job to taunt my mother. I hated the mere thought of her breathing the same air as that bastard. I didn’t want her to become too familiar with him. I didn’t want her to be sympathetic to him. I didn’t want her to get close to him or speak of him fondly. If she was going to hate a rich man, namely me, then I wanted her to hate all men who were well-to-do. However, if I made a move to have her fired, or forced Alistair to let her go, it would be an unforgivable offense in her eyes. I’d taken so much from her; it might break her if I demanded more. We had two years to be tied to one another. I didn’t want Channing to be an empty shell when we parted ways. I spent so many years feigning disinterest to keep her safe. I wouldn’t ruin all that hard work just because I was admittedly jealous.

The final thing that made my temper flare was the obvious mistake I made by dragging Channing to this event.

I knew she wouldn’t want to go if I asked, so I forced her to come. Just like I coerced her into marrying me.

It was clear to me that she wouldn’t attempt to blend in or create a favorable impression, but I had no idea how angry it would make me to witness her being blatantly ignored and silently judged. It was impossible for me to be blasé over how poorly she was treated. Everyone turned their heads when we walked in and instantly decided Channing didn’t belong. My reaction was different. Amid a vast array of high-fashion clothing and precious gems, Channing left the biggest impression. Her imperfection in a sea of immaculate perfection took my breath away. Her hair was messy. Professionals did not do her makeup. She wasn’t dressed to the nines. She didn’t wear diamonds, but in contrast, the antique locket she wore around her neck had a hidden picture of Winnie on one side and her sister on the other. The value was immeasurable. But none of these social elites would understand that. The only time she smiled was when the singer engaged her in conversation. She didn’t belong, and she made it clear she didn’t want to. While everyone else found her worthy of ridicule, I was unable to take my eyes off her. Channing was like a spot of sunshine moving through a room full of storm clouds. I realized how wrong I’d been to think she was a bad influence on Winnie.

It was much better for my niece to take after her aunt than any of these women full of false pretenses.

When I saw my half-brother enter the room, all my functioning brain cells stopped working. All I could feel was jealousy. I refused to share her with him. I’d given so much to my father’s mistake. I wouldn’t let that bastard take my wife away from me. It didn’t matter that our marriage wasn’t real; the feelings that were percolating deep within my darkest places were.

Since I didn’t want to make any more demands on Channing, I decided it was best to ask for forgiveness for kissing her instead of permission.

I trapped her between my body and the bathroom counter. I was past worrying about being interrupted or whether this was proper behavior in public. All I could think was that I wanted to kiss her. I wanted those bothersome people outside to know I was fortunate to have her on my arm for the evening. Not the other way around. There was so little in my life I’d ever wanted to claim. It unnerved me that the first thing I was ready to disrupt my stagnant but successful life was this woman. She’d been a nuisance in my life for so long. How did I miss that being near her made me feel like I deserved to have something that was just for me? I had everything, but none of it could fill the gaping void where my heart was supposed to be.

Channing put her hands on my chest to keep a slight space between our bodies. She gasped when I kissed her, but she didn’t pull away. Since her mouth was open in surprise, I slipped my tongue between her teeth so I could taste her fully. There was an intoxicating flavor of expensive whiskey and what I assumed was pure sunshine lingering on her tongue. Her hand curled into a fist where it rested against my collarbone, and I could feel a tremor shake her body. I couldn’t tell if she was trembling with fear or enjoyment. I was fine with either response. As long as it wasn’t revulsion, I would take it.

Her lips were soft. Her hair was silky. Her skin was smooth. She made sweet sounds while I kissed her with everything I was worth.

I could count on one hand the times I’d lost my head, and I would still have fingers left over. Ever since I decided that joining forces with Channing was a ticket to freedom, I forgot every hard-wired rule my mother had drilled into me. I willfully ignored who I was and what I was supposed to be, because when I was with her, I felt like I was someone better than I had ever been allowed to be.

I fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her head back to deepen the kiss. Her lips moved underneath mine, and her tongue started to twist and turn as mine flicked across hers. My skin heated and my breath caught. I used my free hand to catch the hem of her dress and pull it up along the soft line of her thigh. The material wasn’t anything to get excited about, but the flesh hidden under it felt like velvet. She had never been a woman who was waif thin, so there were more than a handful of curves to fill my palms.

I planned to stop the caress when my hand landed by her knee. However, my control wasn’t as steady as it normally was. The next instant, my hand held her bare hip and her dress pooled in dark folds over my forearm. My thumb played with the edge of her barely there underwear. Channing stilled and pulled away. I bent my head so that I could kiss down the side of her arched neck. Her pulse was fluttering rapidly, and her breath was raspy. Her hands on my chest flattened as she pressed back, silently asking me to give her some space.

“What are you doing, Chester? We are not friends. And we are most certainly not lovers. This is outside the realm of whatever we are.”

I licked a lengthy line from the base of her throat until my lips landed next to her ear. I whispered, “We are married, Harvey.” It seemed like the most obvious answer to her question. Didn’t married people touch each other? Didn’t they kiss like their lives depended on it? Didn’t they want each other beyond reason?

I caught her earlobe between my teeth and moved my hand across the quivering surface of her thigh. I wanted to sink into her warmth. I wanted to get lost in her body within her embrace.

“We aren’t married for real. We’re enemies at best, Win.”

I froze. It was the first time she called me Win. It was always Chester because she liked how much it bugged me.

I liked the way my name sounded when she said it.

It sounded like victory.

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