Authors: Nicole Grane
“Mr. Balfour,” I found myself blushing.
He paused for a moment as he took my hand. His lips trembled against it. “Interesting fragrance you’re wearing my dear,” he said as his nose wrinkled a little.
“I’m not wearing any perfume,” I admitted awkwardly. Did I stink? I suddenly felt self-conscious.
Kim leaned over and took a subtle whiff. “You do smell good Phoebe.”
Leah shot her a disapproving look.
“I’m sorry if it bothers you. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable sitting across the table?” I suggested as I motioned to an empty chair between Kim and Leah.
“I think I can endure,” he smiled, leaning in closer. “You’re really quite alluring, especially the color on your cheeks.”
I blushed a rare shade of scarlet to be sure.
I was glad the waiter came over to take our order; it diverted everyone’s attention.
“We really do appreciate you taking the time to meet with us Mr. Balfour,” Leah began.
“Not at all Miss Williams, the pleasure is all mine.”
We got acquainted over lunch. Kim told all about our recent trip to England—leaving nothing out.
“You should have seen her,” Kim said as she shoved in another bite.
He glanced casually my way. “How is your arm now?” he asked. His eyes, not connecting completely with mine.
“It’s fine—” I blurted out quickly, “It really wasn’t such a big deal after all.”
“Not a big deal!” Kim continued. “You should have seen the blood.”
I shot Kim a quick look of death—which she ignored. She was too captivated by our guest.
“Did you get a look at the man?” Mr. Balfour asked.
“Oh it wasn’t a man,” Kim offered. “It was some kind of dog.”
“A dog?” his attention seemed piqued.
“Kim, I’m sure Mr. Balfour doesn’t want to hear about what a bad time we had in his country,” Leah scolded while still maintaining a pleasant smile.
Kim blushed as she took another bite.
“Well, it’s not really my country,” he interjected. “I just base a great deal of business out of London. Perhaps some time you’d all like to accompany me?” Although he extended the invitation to all of us, his eyes were clearly on me.
“Would anyone like any dessert?” The waiter appeared suddenly. The question was for everyone, but his eyes were on me. A large grin spread across his face. He was almost leering at me.
“No thank you,” I spoke up. I wanted to get out of there quick. Something felt very wrong; and creepy.
Mr. Balfour cleared his throat, snapping the waiter out of his fixated stare.
“None for us either,” Leah answered as she shook her head no to Kim.
Kim frowned and placed her napkin on the table. “No. Nothing for me. Thank you.”
“Just the check then,” Mr. Balfour instructed.
“So, when would you like to see one of our displays?” Leah was taking charge of the conversation again—thank goodness.
“Perhaps tomorrow afternoon?” he suggested.
She nodded her head. “That would be fine.”
“If there won’t be anything else,” the waiter began. His eyes were back on me.
Mr. Balfour had his wallet out before the waiter handed him the check. He placed some cash in the booklet. “That should take care of it, my good man.”
“Oh, please, let us treat you,” Leah said as she extended her hand to the waiter, reaching for the ticked book.
“Absolutely not. The pleasure has been all mine,” Mr. Balfour said as he rose from the table.
I stood along with him. “I have to be going as well. Thank you again, Mr. Balfour.” I extended my hand.
He took it and brought it to his lips once more. I could hear his heart beating rapidly now, his blue eyes looking right through mine.
I shifted uneasily. I couldn’t help but think I was having a moment of déjà vu. I couldn’t figure out why I was so uncomfortable around him. I felt like he knew things about me that I didn’t.
“Until tomorrow . . . perhaps we could discuss that trip abroad.” He moved in closer, his hand still holding mine. “I can assure you: your travels will be safer with me.” There was something sinister about the way he said that. “Ladies . . .” he smiled brightly as he tipped his head and walked away.
“Now,
that’s
a man!” Kim nearly shouted when he was out of earshot.
“Kim, I’ve never been so embarrassed,” Leah thundered. “Why did you have to tell him about Phoebe getting attacked? She doesn’t want to talk about that, and do you really think he wants to hear that she was bit by some rabid dog, or worse—some psycho while visiting overseas?”
“I’ve got to go,” I said abruptly, grabbing my purse.
“Phoebe I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
I looked into Kim’s big brown eyes. She was always so kind, I could never really be mad at her. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” I smiled at the both of them now. “I really have to go, I’ll call you both later, ok?”
I didn’t give them time to answer. I rushed out the door. Something was wrong—I could feel it.
I drove home, constantly looking over my shoulder. I felt like I was being followed; although, I didn’t see any actual evidence of it. I couldn’t figure out where I’d heard that name before?
“Balfour . . . Balfour . . .” I repeated it over and over in my head.
Tap, tap, tap.
I jumped in my seat. I stared out my car window with a confused look on my face. I’d driven home and was parked in my driveway without even remembering getting there. I turned my car off and opened the door.
“May I?” Mr. Balfour extended his hand to help me out.
I hesitated for a moment. Not wanting to be rude, I took his hand.
“I must confess: I followed you,” he admitted with a forged look of guilt on his face. “I hope you don’t mind?”
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say.
“You forgot this.” He handed me my wrap.
“Oh! Thank you. I didn’t realize I’d left it.”
“Perhaps in your haste to leave?” he suggested with a smile.
I suddenly felt self-conscious again, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
“Miss. Williams suggested that since I was returning your wrap to you, I might take a moment to look at your latest collection.”
“I wish she’d called me. I could have saved you the time. I don’t have anything to show at the moment. I gave Kim all my completed pieces last week for packaging. I can give you some snap shots, I suppose. I keep them for reference,” I explained. “Or if you’d prefer, I can make up a few pieces; I’ll just need a few days.”
“The photos will be fine,” he assured.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I ran inside to my desk, pulled out an envelope with the latest photos, and turned back toward the door.
“Huh!” I jumped. I brought my hand to my heart, trying to steady it.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was low.
“No, I just didn’t expect you to be behind me,” I laughed nervously. “Here you are.” I handed him the envelope.
His thumb caressed the top of my hand as he took it slowly. The touch, seeming oddly familiar.
“I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” he said knowingly, the corners of his mouth curled up a little.
“It’s just the way you’re looking at me,” I confessed, trying to avoid his stare.
“I’m sorry. I don’t wish to make you feel uncomfortable . . . it’s just that you remind me of someone, someone I knew a very long time ago . . . someone very dear to me.”
I nodded my head in understanding.
“Well, I’ll leave you to the rest of your day,” he leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek, his lips lingering longer than necessary. “Until tomorrow,” he bowed his head and slipped out the door.
I stood there for a while with my hand on my cheek. I could still feel his kiss. His scent lingered heavily in the air . . .
“Where have I heard that name before?” I thought aloud.
I looked over to see Marcus standing in my doorway—I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“You’re back!” I rushed over throwing my arms around him.
He pulled back abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” I found myself stepping away from him. My joyous mood—gone!
His eyes darted around the room.
“What is it?” My voice cracked. A feeling of dread crept over me.
“I can smell him; he was in the house,” Marcus growled. His eyes vigilantly searched his surroundings.
“What?”
I inhaled deeply. I could smell the ocean, I could smell the sweet smell of Marcus, and . . . my eyes widened. “I had a visitor.”
“You let a werewolf in your house?” Marcus rounded on me.
“A werewolf! No, it was that man I met for lunch, the one who wants to promote my jewelry line.”
Marcus moved in closer. “I can smell him on you.” I could actually see his anger rising as he looked me over.
“He wasn’t a werewolf.” I protested.
“I know his scent,” he snapped. “I’ve been tracking it ever since I left you. I was just past the Washington boarder when I realized he doubled back here.”
I looked at Marcus in disbelief. “Washington? How did you get there and back so quickly?”
“I’m fast.”
I didn’t have a chance to marvel. “Marcus, I promise you . . . there was no one else here. I’d have seen a werewolf in my living room, I’m not blind!”
“Phoebe, he wouldn’t necessarily be a wolf now. There’s no full moon.” Marcus turned his head slightly, looking at me through the corner of his black eyes.
“What do you mean he wouldn’t be a werewolf?”
“I mean that he would look like a normal human.”
My mind couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“You’re safe.” He sighed contently, looking momentarily relieved that I was all right. His black eyes sparkled like ebony as they looked into mine. I could feel my pulse begin to race as his cool fingertips ran along my jaw line and down the side of my neck. I closed my eyes as he pulled my face toward his.
I waited for the moment his soft lips would touch mine. The moment he held my body close to his as he embraced me tightly . . . this would not be that moment.
I opened my eyes to see his face dangerously close to mine. He was frozen. His eyes stared past me. They were black with fury, his jaw clenched tight. I could feel the tension running through the fingers that still held my face.
“Marcus?” I breathed. “You’re scaring me.”
His eyes flickered sharply to mine. I instinctively tried to back away—he held me tight.
“That beast was close enough to kiss you, and you didn’t tell me!” His voice echoed with rage.