The Wicked and the Wondrous by Christine Feehan

Author:Christine Feehan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2003-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

chapter

2

THICK STEAM CURLED through the bathroom, filling every corner like an unnatural fog. The tiled bathroom was large and beautiful with its deep bathtub and hanging plants. After her long, hot shower, Jessica was feeling more human, but it was impossible to see much with the steam so thick. She towel-dried the mirror, staring at the reflection of her pale face. She was exhausted, wanting only to sleep.

The last thing she wanted to do was face Dillon Wentworth looking like a frightened child. Her green eyes were too big for her face, her mouth too generous, her hair too red. She had always wished for the sophisticated, elegant look, but instead, she got the girl-next-door look. She peered closer at her reflection, hoping she seemed more mature. Without make-up she appeared younger than her twenty-five years. Jessica sighed, and shook her head in exasperation. She was no longer a child of eighteen, but a grown woman who had helped to raise Tara and Trevor. She wanted Dillon to take her seriously, to listen to what she had to say and not dismiss her as he might a teenager.

“Don’t be dramatic, Jess,” she cautioned aloud, “don’t use words like ‘life and death’. Just be matter-of-fact.” She was trembling as she pulled on a dry pair of jeans, her hands shaking in spite of the hot shower. “Don’t give him a chance to call you hysterical or imaginative.” She hated those words. The police had used them freely when she’d consulted them after the twins had been sent the old tabloids and the phone calls had started. She was certain the police thought her a publicity-seeker.

Before she did anything else, she needed to assure herself the twins were being taken care of. Paul had shown her to a room on the second floor, a large suite with a bathroom and sitting room much like in a hotel. Jessica knew why Dillon had his private home built that way. In the beginning, he would have clung to the idea that he would play again. He would compose and record, and his home would be filled with guests. She ached for him, ached for the talent, the musical genius in him that must tear at his soul night and day. She couldn’t imagine Dillon without his music.

She wandered down the wide hallway to the curving staircase. The stairs led up another story or down to the main floor. Jessica was certain she would find the twins in the kitchen and Dillon up on the third floor so she went downstairs, delaying the inevitable. The house was beautiful, all wood and high ceilings and stained glass. It had endless rooms that invited her to explore, but the sound of Tara’s laughter caught at her and she hurried into the kitchen.

Paul grinned at her in greeting. “Did you follow the smell of chocolate?” He was still as she remembered him, too thin, too bleached, with a quick, engaging smile that always made her want to smile with him.

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