His Black Pearl by Colette Howard Page B

tongues touching, so close to taking that forbidden kiss. When their climax came, it came hard, draining them so that they had quickly fallen asleep, her secure in his arms, him still buried deep inside her, their bodies nestled tight together.
    Falling asleep in his embrace, the last thing she had expected was to awaken alone in his big bed.
    Hallie snitched a robe from his closet and headed to her studio.
    The door was open. Sheets draped the furniture. The easel was gone, as was the paint cart. Crates filled the room -- one for each of the other paintings she had completed.
    Hallie walked over to the intercom, pressed the call button and released.
    Silence.
    She pressed the call button again.
    Still nothing. Not that she could blame them. Must suck to kick your boss’s lover out.
    She marched to his office, heart sinking at the wide-open door until she saw the dark curls.
    He looked up -- and her heart sank all over again.
    Not Aaron, but Heckle.
    Or Jeckle. It was no use trying to think of them separately. They walked as a unit, talked as a unit. Hell, they probably even breathed as a unit. If they bothered to breathe at all.
    He looked to his left and she followed his gaze. Standing in front of the stone wall was his pale, bloodless twin. Next to him, a wide section of the slate floor was missing. Rough-cut stairs descended into pitch black.
    She cinched the robe tighter, her gaze darting between the stairs and Aaron’s uncles.
    Was that it? Had he left Heckle and Jeckle there to break the news that he was kicking her to the curb now that the painting was done and he had no more lessons to teach her?
    Well, she sure as hell had a few to teach him. “Where is he?”
    Like old women, they turned to one another, ignoring Hallie as they talked in faintly thrilled voices.
    “He’ll try to keep her.”
    “They never stay, do they?”
    Hallie jabbed her finger in their general direction. This time she yelled her question at them. “Where is he?”
    They pressed closer together, the dark one pulling a pocket watch out and checking the time. “Tick tock, my beauty. You don’t want to wait for one of us to answer that question.”
    She eyed the opening in the floor. She couldn’t see more than four steps down.
    “Not afraid of the dark, are you?”
    “Claustrophobic, perhaps?”
    She bent toward the stairs, ready to call his name. Her throat seized. If he was down there, he wouldn’t answer. She knew it low in her stomach. If he had any intention of answering her, he wouldn’t be down there in the first place. She glanced suspiciously back at Heckle and Jeckle.
    Maybe they’d stuck him down there?
    They smiled, showing her the one feature they shared completely -- gray gums.
    Might as well be goddamn mummies, she thought and hiked the robe a few inches with one hand.
    She headed down the steps, slowly placing one foot down at a time. When her head was level with the floor, she placed her palm flat against the wall. The texture was all wrong, not like the bedrock she would expect in the valley floor. Instead, it was smooth like the carved wall she’d just left behind.
    The stairs curved. She counted each one as she went. Christ had descended a thousand steps into the underworld -- the ground below Aaron’s house leveled out at one hundred thirty-eight.
    Arms outstretched to touch both sides of the passage, she kept walking, her count starting over from one as she felt for any breaks in the wall that indicated a side passage.
    Cold and moist, the air wrapped around her like an embrace. She forced herself to keep the same pace. She didn’t want to run face-first into a wall or a low overhang in the ceiling. If Aaron had needed to leave without waking her, only Heckle and Jeckle knew she was down here.
    Hallie comforted herself with that thought until a blue light flared ahead of her, showing that the passage opened onto a chamber a few feet ahead. The light brightened as she approached and Aaron’s body slowly took