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Authors: Cynthia Roberts
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What kind of name is Jax anyway?” he chuckled gently.
“It was short for Jackson.” she filled in. “You do resemble him somewhat, but he has been gone for some time now.” she spoke with regret.
Gone? Hadn’t she just thought that he was this Jax person? Confused, Jack stared at her. She really was quite lovely and he had seen plenty of beautiful women i n his life, but this woman… “You haven’t told me your name yet?” Jack suddenly realized. She met his gaze then, and Jack couldn’t help but to feel mesmerized. God, who was she? Why was she out this time of night? Why had she come to him?
“My name is Lillian Saint Rose.” she whispered , and it was then that he noticed there was a slight English accent to her soft spoken voice.
“You’re English.” he acknowledged, and she nodded but once.
“Originally, but I haven’t been back there in quite some time.” She stood to her tall height, preparing to leave. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jack Stone.” she said dismissively.
“This Jax, he meant something to you?” Jack rushed to stand, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind if only to keep her there a moment longer.
“Once upon a time.” she confessed as if deep in thought, and then she met his gaze once more and nodded as if in farewell.
“Then it must disturb your senses that I resemble him?” Jack said a little too loudly. She must think I’m a dork, he thought, angry with himself for behaving like some little boy with an impossible crush! She met his gaze once more, and Jack‘s breathing seemed to still.
“That was a long time ago. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” she turned to leave and it was all Jack could do not to reach out to her, to bring her back to him, for what, he didn’t know.
“I assure you, ma’am, my time was not wasted. It was lovely meeting you, Lilly Saint Rose.” he called to get her attention. She looked back over her shoulder at him then as if stunned by something he had said, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what.
“And you as well, Jack Stone.” she bowed before him like some regal lady of old, and Jack didn’t know if to laugh at the absurdity of it, or to chase after her and demand that she stay and talk with him some more. He watched the last of the tall, beautiful woman walking away from him down the sidewalk outside of the coffee shop, and he couldn‘t help but to feel as if he were losing something of value. His heart jumped to pound in his throat. His feet itched to move, to indeed chase after her, but he forced himself to sit back down instead. It took a few moments for his mind to let go of her image and to return to the thoughts of the now two murders that had occurred in the last week.
It was nearing on sunrise when Lillian Saint Rose walked through the front door of her home. Reginald Baker, her butler and guardian, met her at the door with a sour expression on his eighty-two year old, wrinkled face. Josh and Troy, Reginald’s two grandsons who were training to take over his position when Reginald passed on, flanked the old man with equally sour expressions on their young, handsome faces. Troy was a dead ringer for his grandfather back when Reginald had been young. Josh looked more like his birth mother, a woman that Lillian could barely stomach.
All three men stood t here, staring at her accusingly, and it was then that Lillian noticed the bag of stakes strapped to Josh’s broad back. “Going somewhere?” she asked of him, and he frowned heavily.
“To find you, but now that that will no longer be necessary.” he growled out, and he tossed the bag of stakes onto a cream leather sofa. Lillian’s pale blue gaze followed. There were at least twenty wooden stakes in that bag, she thought, and any one of them could put an end to her existence. That was, of course, if it was followed by decapitation, she thought, and she met Reginald’s condemning gaze. His fragile heart was beating
“It was short for Jackson.” she filled in. “You do resemble him somewhat, but he has been gone for some time now.” she spoke with regret.
Gone? Hadn’t she just thought that he was this Jax person? Confused, Jack stared at her. She really was quite lovely and he had seen plenty of beautiful women i n his life, but this woman… “You haven’t told me your name yet?” Jack suddenly realized. She met his gaze then, and Jack couldn’t help but to feel mesmerized. God, who was she? Why was she out this time of night? Why had she come to him?
“My name is Lillian Saint Rose.” she whispered , and it was then that he noticed there was a slight English accent to her soft spoken voice.
“You’re English.” he acknowledged, and she nodded but once.
“Originally, but I haven’t been back there in quite some time.” She stood to her tall height, preparing to leave. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Jack Stone.” she said dismissively.
“This Jax, he meant something to you?” Jack rushed to stand, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind if only to keep her there a moment longer.
“Once upon a time.” she confessed as if deep in thought, and then she met his gaze once more and nodded as if in farewell.
“Then it must disturb your senses that I resemble him?” Jack said a little too loudly. She must think I’m a dork, he thought, angry with himself for behaving like some little boy with an impossible crush! She met his gaze once more, and Jack‘s breathing seemed to still.
“That was a long time ago. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” she turned to leave and it was all Jack could do not to reach out to her, to bring her back to him, for what, he didn’t know.
“I assure you, ma’am, my time was not wasted. It was lovely meeting you, Lilly Saint Rose.” he called to get her attention. She looked back over her shoulder at him then as if stunned by something he had said, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what.
“And you as well, Jack Stone.” she bowed before him like some regal lady of old, and Jack didn’t know if to laugh at the absurdity of it, or to chase after her and demand that she stay and talk with him some more. He watched the last of the tall, beautiful woman walking away from him down the sidewalk outside of the coffee shop, and he couldn‘t help but to feel as if he were losing something of value. His heart jumped to pound in his throat. His feet itched to move, to indeed chase after her, but he forced himself to sit back down instead. It took a few moments for his mind to let go of her image and to return to the thoughts of the now two murders that had occurred in the last week.
It was nearing on sunrise when Lillian Saint Rose walked through the front door of her home. Reginald Baker, her butler and guardian, met her at the door with a sour expression on his eighty-two year old, wrinkled face. Josh and Troy, Reginald’s two grandsons who were training to take over his position when Reginald passed on, flanked the old man with equally sour expressions on their young, handsome faces. Troy was a dead ringer for his grandfather back when Reginald had been young. Josh looked more like his birth mother, a woman that Lillian could barely stomach.
All three men stood t here, staring at her accusingly, and it was then that Lillian noticed the bag of stakes strapped to Josh’s broad back. “Going somewhere?” she asked of him, and he frowned heavily.
“To find you, but now that that will no longer be necessary.” he growled out, and he tossed the bag of stakes onto a cream leather sofa. Lillian’s pale blue gaze followed. There were at least twenty wooden stakes in that bag, she thought, and any one of them could put an end to her existence. That was, of course, if it was followed by decapitation, she thought, and she met Reginald’s condemning gaze. His fragile heart was beating
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