How utterly disgusting. She cast one last pleading look around the room, but her Muse was nowhere around. There was nothing to do but leave without him, and even that would be tricky, given the determination in Professor Deveaux’s eyes. She would not let her leave without a fight. Trying to control the shaking in her muscles, she climbed down off the platform and suffered Jonathan’s drunken arm around her waist.
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna have fun,” he breathed in her ear. “Right now, babe, let’s hit it.”
They didn’t expect her to have sex with him in public, did they? She looked in alarm at Professor Deveaux, and saw that even she was disgusted by Jonathan’s stumbling crudeness. “Please take it to the bedroom, Jon,” Professor Deveaux sniffed. “No one wants to see a replay of the night you won the slave auction.”
Relief filled Chelsea. If she could just get away from this crowd, she could easily slip away. She’d tell Jonathan she needed to use the bathroom and then just never come back. As he led her through darkened halls and up a staircase, she realized that she was not only naked, but stranded in the country on a cold February night. She didn’t even have a cell phone to call someone.
“Here’s the room,” Jonathan announced drunkenly and flipped a light switch. Chelsea saw a flash of brown hair as an object whistled through the air. A resounding thwack echoed in her ears. A moment later, Jonathan lay on the floor beside her.
Her beautiful Muse stood in front of her.
She threw herself into his arms, all of her suppressed tears flowing onto his chest. It wasn’t the first embrace she had intended to have with him, but the warm strength of his arms around her was so comforting, it unlocked her most turbulent emotions. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m taking care of you. But we’ve got to get out of here.”
His deep voice flowed over her like warm honey. She could drown in that voice, could listen to him recite the alphabet and still want more. “My clothes and dorm key are still in the limo. I don’t have anything to wear or any money—”
“I know. Here.” He pulled a long black bathrobe around her. “It’s all I could find. I called a taxi, it should be waiting out front. But we’re going to have to go out the back.”
He grabbed her hand and led her through the dark, giant house that spread before them like a maze. Neither of them spoke. Other Society members were retiring to bedrooms in couples, trios and groups, and more than once her Muse pulled her into the shadows of a closet or bathroom while dodging the others. At last, he pulled her down a back staircase, through an immaculate kitchen, and out into the cold winter night.
Nothing had ever smelled as good to Chelsea as that crisp forest air. She looked up at the bright stars twinkling overhead and gave a silent thanks to whatever goddess of love was looking out for her on this Valentine’s night.
“Come on.” He pulled her around the house, which she could see now was a luxury mansion, and through a line of snow-laced hemlock trees. Through them, she could see the cars and limos parked before the house. Bored drivers smoked cigarettes and gossiped freely about their clients. There was no taxi among them.
She squeezed his hand. He gestured for silence.
The front door of the massive house flew open. Professor Deveaux emerged into the driveway with an expression of fury. “Has anyone left this house?” she asked the limo drivers. “A couple?”
They shook their heads and Professor Deveaux turned to the men behind her. “Keep looking. They are here somewhere.”
She turned to go inside. Just as Chelsea sighed with relief, their taxi pulled into the driveway, its roof light glowing in the night. Professor Deveaux’s eyes widened and she screamed, “Stop that driver!”
“Now!” her Muse commanded and they ran for the cab, sprinting wildly through the chaos of limos, drivers and Society members. In one smooth move, he flung open the back door, shoved her in and jumped in after her. “Drive, it’s an emergency!” he shouted at the driver.
Professor Deveaux’s shouting receded as their taxi pulled off into the night.
Chapter Eight
A soundless snow began to fall down over the dark countryside as they moved through the night. For a few moments, there was only the rhythmic rumble of the taxi engine. The driver spoke up. “Sounds like quite a party back there.”
“It was hell on earth,” Chelsea muttered. She took off the torturous stiletto heels and dropped them on the floor of the cab, not caring if her feet were bare. Then she looked at her Muse.
So this was the star of her winter fantasies—the man whose body had brought her to such fiery heights even as his face remained a mystery. Her eyes drank in his sculpted cheekbones, firm jaw and full lips before returning to the tender patience in his dark eyes. His luxurious chestnut hair was as unruly as ever, tousled, as if he had just finished the wildest sex of his life. It contrasted with the formal elegance of his tux, as if he were half-angel and half-demon.
He smiled a dangerously sexy smile that made her heart twist. “I was so worried I’d never see you again.”
The rich tenor of his voice stirred something deep inside her. “But here we are together at last,” she said with a shaky smile.
Her Muse reached out and pulled h
er into his arms, black bathrobe and all. “I’m sorry I let it get this far,” he whispered, kissing her hair. “But if I had intervened sooner, they just would have stopped me. Odette was so determined to have you as the Valentine’s prize—and to keep us apart.”
Chelsea burrowed into his warm chest, not wanting to hear her enemy’s name. “But why me?” She rubbed her nose on his skin, recognizing the barely perceptible clean scent of his soap from their nights together.
He stroked her head. “It’s not easy for the Society to find students who will be discreet. They have to be beautiful and willing to go along with the tests. And to be lured in with fake promises, they have to want to be writers. You were Odette’s ultimate prize.”
She retreated from his lap. Wonderful as his arms felt, she wasn’t finished staring at the haunting perfection of his face. She was going to burn his every feature into her brain until they were permanently engraved on her memory.
She also needed some answers.