“No, I am not.”
“You are. You’re afraid the real truth will come out.”
She cleared her throat as her heart pulsed rapidly under his fingertips. God, did he know? “And what truth is that?”
He shook his head. “I want you to tell me.”
If he didn’t look so serious, she’d have called him a con man. She wanted to tell him he didn’t know anything, but somehow she feared he did know the truth. “Everyone says they want to know the truth, but they really don’t. Once the fantasy is destroyed, the fun ends.”
“Not for everyone.”
She wanted to connect with him, but the words would not form. All she had at this moment was her body and her ability to touch. She kissed him.
He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him. His kiss began gently but quickly intensified before he broke the contact. “Has sex always been an escape for you?” The whispered words didn’t soften the challenge.
A good attorney knew when to avoid and when to attack. No more of either. “Sex was a cold lonely place ... until you.”
His gaze darkened, but the meaning in their depths escaped her. Was he pleased? His hand traced her palm, and then rose up her arm to the back of her neck. His hold wasn’t urgent. It was possessive.
With deliberate pressure he guided her face to him. She could balk. Say no. Demand that he leave her alone with her secrets. But she’d never said no to him in bed and knew she’d soon confess.
When his lips touched hers, a frisson of desire shot through her body. Her muscles tightened, she clenched handfuls of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His hand roamed up her shirt to the underside of a lace-covered breast. He cupped her nipple, squeezed. Her heartbeat thundered against her ribs as she arched into him. The movers would be here soon. She had so much to handle. And all she could think about was Rokov inside her.
She reached for the buckle of his pants.
He stilled her hands. “Bedroom.”
“This way.” She guided him quickly through the maze of boxes to her room. The room was entirely packed, and all that remained on the bed were the sheets and a few blankets for this last night in her place.
He pulled her shirt off and reached for the elastic waistband of her athletic shorts. “I want to see you naked.”
She gripped his hand, her breath stopped in her throat.
He stared at her unmoving as she listened to the fast beat of her heart. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded ragged, like a stranger’s.
He pulled down her shorts and let them drop around her ankles. As he pushed her back toward the bed, she reached for his belt buckle. Seconds later he was on top of her and then inside her, moving with hard, even thrusts. Her breasts bounced with each push. Tense urgent fingers ran up his thighs.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he said. “It’s been all I can do not to touch you.”
She understood. During the frenetic hum of her days or the silent still moments of the night, her thoughts often strayed to him.
The tempo between them rose, and energy in her swelled until finally it exploded inside her. She tipped back her head and growled his name, too lost in desire to be ashamed.
He waited until the last of the shudders had passed through her body and she opened her eyes. He cupped a handful of her hair in his fist and held her head steady as he moved faster and faster in her.
“Look at me,” he growled.
She couldn’t take her gaze from his features as he clenched his fingers tighter into her hair. His power snapped between them as she watched the play of agony and ecstasy on his face and finally his body went rigid.
He collapsed on top of her and his rapid heartbeat thrummed against her chest. For several long seconds they lay, too spent to speak.
Finally, he rolled on his side facing her, his arm draped over her belly. Again, it felt as if he wanted to stake a claim.
“You do that to me,” he rasped. He took her hand and laid it on his beating heart. “No one else does that to me.”
The muscle drummed wildly under her fingertips. “What is it with you? Why can’t I just do this and walk away?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Admit it. It’s more than just sex.”
“Yes.”
He traced a circle around her belly button. “How can an attraction be so strong?”
She turned her head toward him. “We are all about adrenaline. Pure energy. Both burn hot, but don’t last.”
“Are you tired of me?”
“No.”
“Good. I can’t imagine I’ll get tired of you.”
“You will. It is the nature of men and women.”
“Maybe I will get tired of you. But I’m thinking it will take time. A long, long time.”
Even a long, long time didn’t feel adequate.
He traced a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Tell me your secret.”
In this moment she felt closer to him than she had to anyone in her life. The walls dropped, and she felt so vulnerable. She didn’t want to lose him, but it was better to tell him now and cut her losses. If he hated her for what she was about to say, then better now than later.
She shifted her gaze to the ceiling. Tears filled her eyes and trailed down the sides of her face. “Sooner is my child. Not Mariah’s.”
The silence in the room was heavy and broken only by the hammering of her heart.
He rolled on his side and faced her. His gaze was unreadable. “She doesn’t look like you.”
“No. She looks like my mother and my sister. There are no traces of me in her. But she is mine. I was sixteen when she was born.” Fear lingered behind the words as she waited for rejection and censure. “You see, I told you the tangles were thicker than you realized.”
He shifted his weight on top of her so that they were almost nose to nose. “Who is her father?”
“A boy who lied about his name and his love so that he could seduce me.”
“Not Grady.”
“No.”
His gaze searched hers an extra beat before relief flickered. “She’s a lot like you. She’s got your spirit. When I interviewed her, she felt so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her.”
Tears fell down the sides of her face and dripped on the mattress. “Aren’t you disappointed in me or angry?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He traced a strand of hair from her eyes. “My heart breaks for the kid that was alone and desperate for a better life for herself and her baby.”
“I’m not that kid anymore.”
“She’s still driving the bus, Charlotte. That kid, Grace, is the reason you are where you are.”
“For so long I just wanted to forget Grace.”
“Stop trying to forget her. She’s not going anywhere, and I don’t want her to. She’s a part of you and
I like all your parts.” He kissed her on the lips. “Have you told Sooner?”
“No. She thinks Mariah was her mother. Grady lied to Sooner about her mother. I’m sure he was doing it to spite me for leaving and punish me for Mariah’s death. And I’ve been too scared to correct her.”
“But you are going to tell her.”
“Yes. I have to tell her.”
“Do you want me with you?”
“No. I’ll have to do that one on my own.”
“Let me know what I can do.”
“You do not want to get dragged in my family drama.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “You act like I’m afraid of a little trouble.”
She stared into his dark and determined gaze. “Why do you want me? Why don’t you find yourself someone sweet, uncomplicated, and who isn’t terrified of commitment or has an eighteen-year-old kid? You are a good-looking man, Daniel Rokov. I would think you could find someone a little more perfect.”
The creases around his eyes deepened when he smiled. “I got a thing for you, counselor. And as much as I’ve tried, I can’t shake it.”
“My baggage could get a little heavy.”
“Let me be the judge.” He kissed her. “You ever reconsidered breaking bread with me?”
Nervous laughter bubbled as she swiped away another tear. “You should be running for the hills at this point.”
“Is that a yes or no to dinner?”
“I did break bread with you. At your mother’s kitchen table no less.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a date.”
She smiled. “Us on a date. I’m not sure if I can picture that, detective.”
“Daniel. Call me Daniel.”
She traced the strong line of his jaw. “I haven’t told Sooner the truth, and when I do, my life could get messy.”
“Give me a real obstacle, Charlotte.” His hand slid up her belly, and his knuckle brushed the underside of her breast.
“The one I just gave is fairly significant.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.” He frowned. “Let me share this with you.”
She traced the line of his jaw with her thumb. “I won’t blame you if you change your mind.”
“Stop yammering. We need to get dressed. The movers will be here in minutes.”
“That would be embarrassing if they found us. What would people say?” Her tone was light but the meaning wasn’t. People were going to talk a lot. Not just about them but her past and Sooner.
He nudged her side. “Break bread with me, counselor.”
Any kind of real relationship with him was so, so foolish. It would end. It was a matter of time. Tangles ruined things. “Fine. Dinner.”
As she rose, he grabbed her by the waist. “Is that a tattoo on your lower back?”
Immediately she pulled free and righted her pants.
“No.”
He rose up off the bed and refastened his pants. “It’s kind of sexy.”
“It’s not.”
“Sure it is. Let me see it.”
She faced him. “No. And please do not tell anyone.”
“No one knows about it?”
“No.”
“If it bothers you so much, why didn’t you just have it removed?”
“It’s a reminder that Grace Wells was capable of doing some really stupid things. It is a reminder that I should think long and hard before I act.”
He brushed the hair off her forehead with his index finger. “You didn’t think too hard about us.”
She hadn’t thought at all. She simply reacted. “And that is what worries me.”
His hand dropped to her waist. “Can I see it?”
She clamped her hand over his. “No. No you cannot.”
His hand easily slipped out of her grip. “Pretty please.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want any secrets between us. Plus, I’m thinking it’s going to be pretty hot.”
“It’s not hot.”
“Let me be the judge.”
Again she could say no. But why start now? She gave him her back and lowered the elastic.
“It’s a tiger.”
“Mariah and I thought we were so clever when we got these. We thought we were different.”
He traced the tiger with his finger. “I like it. And it suits you. You are a tiger.” He kissed her on the shoulder in such a tender way that it made her still. She had the urge to melt into his body, and forget about the movers. She wanted to make love to him. Love. Not sex.
The front door buzzed. She sighed. “That must be the movers.”
“I’ll help you finish packing.”
“There’s not much to do. Just get back to your case, and I’ll finish up as they carry out the rest.”
“Are you tossing me out?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t think with you around. And I need to think to make sure this job gets done right. Too many things going in too many places.”
“You’re not keeping everything?”
“No. I’m downsizing and simplifying big time.”
“Why?”
“It’s time.”
Chapter 22
Saturday, October 30, 5:20 p.m.
Sooner flipped the
Closed
sign on her shop to
Open
and stood back smiling. She hugged her arms over her chest feeling a thrill of excitement. She was officially a business owner. She backed away from the door and slowly took a seat behind the table she’d set up for her readings. With a critical eye she surveyed her shop. Mark had gone home sick for the day so she was officially in charge. And it felt good.
The deep purple walls gave the room a soft moody vibe that would enhance her readings. Setting, Grady had always said, was important to the right mood. She’d draped swatches of purple fabrics on the walls, which she’d hoped would hide her bad paint job and the uneven spots in the wallboard. She was too early in the process to have retail items for sale but that would come. She had big dreams for this place.
The bronze Indian bells Mark had allowed her to hang over the front door clanged, and she tried not to smile too much. She didn’t want to look excited or desperate, but mysterious—almost as if she was doing the client the favor. She started to shuffle her tarot cards.
A man stepped in and glanced around the shop. He was dressed in khakis and a dark blue collared shirt cuffed with gold links at his wrist. He wore his hair short and neatly combed and a wedding band that had a soft patina that suggested he’d been married several years. Conservative. Uptight. Those words clanged in her head and she couldn’t imagine a guy like him here, searching the cards for answers.
Immediately her heart dropped. “Can I help you?”
He glanced around the shop, assessing and cataloging. “I was looking for the card shop.”
He wanted directions. Of course. She almost laughed. “Down the street on the corner and next to the pizza shop. You can’t miss it.”
Smiling, he looked at her for the first time. “Thanks.”
Ask for the sale.
It had been one of Grady’s mantras. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know. “Interested in a reading?”
He held up his hands. “I don’t think so. I’m just looking for an anniversary card for my wife.”
Anxiety churned and she reminded herself that he was no different than any dude that wandered into her tent. “Let me read you and then I’ll tell you the perfect note to write in the card.” Most guys couldn’t write much beyond
I love ya
on a card. Nice but not totally inspiring.
The guy laughed but hesitated. “The perfect note.”
“Perfect. The goodwill that comes your way will be well worth the twenty bucks.”
“Twenty bucks. I can write ‘I Love You’ for free.”
“If you want a hot steamy night on your anniversary, you’re gonna have to do better than those three words.”
He let the door close behind him, and he took a step into the shop. She imagined herself fishing, line in the water, and the fish had just grabbed a hold of her bait. What guy, even an uptight dude like this, wouldn’t explore the possibility of hot steamy sex with his wife?
“So what do I have to do?” he asked.
“Sit in the chair and let me read your cards. I’ll give you a few insights and then tell you what to write.”
“This is a con?”
“No con.” She sounded calm, maybe even a little ethereal, a word she’d looked up online just yesterday. “Spiritual insights.” Shuffling the cards, she nodded to the chair by the desk. “It will be the best twenty dollars you ever spent.”
He shrugged, glanced around as if checking to make sure no one was peeking in the shop. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” He pulled out the twenty and handed it to her.
Tucking the twenty in her empty cash drawer, her smile warmed. “Do you have a name?”
“Honestly,” he said, leaning toward her. “I’d rather not give it. This is just a little weird for me, and I half expect someone to jump out with a camera and tell me I’ve been punked.”
“No cameras. No worries. Just you and me and the cards.”
He relaxed back in his chair. “Great.”
She set the shuffled deck in front of him. “Now I need for you to shuffle the cards.”
“Why?”
“So you can put your energy into them. And once you’ve shuffled them three times, divide the stack into three even piles.”
“Will do.” Long neat fingers shuffled and divided the cards.
She set a timer at her side for fifteen minutes and then arranged the cards carefully and deliberately in the Celtic cross pattern. She’d give her first customer a reading that gave him some answers but raised others as well. The other questions often prompted people to buy more time or return later.
Carefully she studied the ten cards. The Judge. The Destroyer. Nothingness. It was an unusual spread for a man that seemed so mild. “I think there is more to you than I first realized.”
“That’s what I keep telling my boss.” His eyes danced with laughter.
She lowered her gaze back to the cards. Death sat in the center, and this, of course, could simply mean change. But ... this grouping did not feel like change. It felt like emptiness, and when she closed her eyes, she had the sense that she was falling into a great abyss. A cold chill passed through her body. She’d never experienced a reading like this.
That man leaned forward and studied her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. “You look so much like her,” he whispered.
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“You look like her.”
“Who?”
He smiled. “A woman who once read my cards. You look so much like her.”
“Are you certain I’ve not read your cards before?” she said. “Perhaps at the carnival last week?”
“This is my first time in this shop.”
“Our paths have crossed before.”
She stared at him, feeling energy buzz from the cards into her fingertips. On reflex, she moved her foot to the panic button Grady had always maintained under her desk. But it was not there. Grady was not at the ready to save her. Mark had gone home sick. She was on her own.
He cocked his head. “Are you going to give me my reading? I need to know what to say to my wife so that she’ll forgive me and take me back.”
“You said you were buying her an anniversary card.”
“It is our anniversary. She hasn’t gotten her divorce yet.”
She opened the cash drawer and laid his twenty between them. “I don’t think that I can help you. Sorry.”
“Why not? Now you’ve got me curious. What do you see in the cards?”
Tell him what he wants to hear. “She loves you. And she will take you back. She will remember her love for you.”
His gaze sharpened. “Really?”
“Yes. Really. Now I must go, sir. I’ve a party to work this evening.”
He didn’t touch the money. “I don’t want a refund. I want you to tell me what you see.”
“That your future is bright and wonderful.”
He rose, but this time when he stood, tension gripped him, sharpening every muscle in his body. He’d first seemed affable and a bit of a fool. But no more. “I think that you are right. I feel good about the future.”
“Good.”
“Do you feel good about the future?”
She rose. “Me? Of course I do.”
“That’s good. You should feel good about it.”
A tentative smile teased the edge of her lips. “Because of my new business.”
“Because God is going to cleanse you of your sins and set you free.” He smiled and rose.
“Who are you?”
“Doesn’t really matter.”
He turned and very calmly left the shop. For several seconds the bells jangled and swayed. She got up and ran to the door and locked it.
“Shit. A nut on the first day.”
She glanced at the clock, and seeing she was going to be late even if she hurried, she grabbed her satchel and moved to the back of the shop. She’d parked in the back alley.
Sooner shut off the lights, except for the three glowing lava lamps that Mark kept burning, and exited the back door. She shoved her key in the lock, twisted the bolt in place, and then jingled the handle to make sure the door was locked.
Under the glow of the moonlight and a blinking street lamp, she moved to her beat-up Ford pickup truck. She shoved her key into the lock.
She was looking forward to tonight. She liked Charlotte and thought the two of them might be good for each other. She could use a little polishing and Aunt Charlotte could use a little mussing up.
As she opened the door and tossed her purse on the seat, a strong hand banded around her waist and another clamped over her mouth. She immediately kicked and clawed at the hands. She jabbed an elbow and heard her attacker grunt.
Hope I broke a bone, motherfucker.
“You are an abomination. But I won’t send your worthless soul to hell before it is cleansed.”
She dug under the folds of her gown and found her phone. He snatched it from her, dropped it to the ground, and smashed it with his boot.
He jabbed a needle in her neck and shoved in a plunger. Spots quickly formed in front of her eyes as her body lost control. God, was she going to die at the very start of her new life?
Maybe Grady had been right. Maybe she should have stayed with him where she was safe.
Her vision went dark and her legs slumped. Her world went black.
Charlotte’s nerves were in shreds after her confession to Daniel today. And tattered emotions aside, the movers had also arrived—a half hour late. She’d spent the morning supervising the move, cringing when movers dinged a wall and yelping when they’d dropped her sofa. A panicked call to the handyman and a little pleading had him at her condo by three to patch and paint the wall. By the time she’d written him a check, the paint on the newly smoothed wall corner was drying.
By five, everything had either gone into storage, to charity, or to her new apartment, a cramped, unorganized mess. Thankfully, she’d kept her evening dress she’d planned to wear to Angie’s fund-raiser in her car along with her hair and makeup gear. Tomorrow would be all about sorting, organizing, and making sense of her new place.
It would have been so easy to sequester herself behind the boxes in her new apartment, pour a glass of wine, and hide in a hot tub. There were enough legitimate reasons to bail on Angie’s charity event. But Angie had worked hard on her Halloween fund-raiser, and it did mean a lot to her. Charlotte could be a bitch and a ball buster, and there were many who didn’t like her. But no one truthfully could say she’d ever broken a promise.
She’d told Angie she’d be at the party, and so she shoved her raw emotions down deep inside her and put on a grand smile. Faking-it was a specialty she’d honed over the last eighteen years.
She wouldn’t talk to Sooner about the truth tonight, but the day fast approached. To avoid it now, no matter what her personal cost, would be far too cruel to Sooner.
By seven, she stood in the hotel staring at the ballroom decorated with drapes of orange and black fabric, pumpkins, and black and white lights that gave off a spooky glow. There was a buffet table on the long wall and three bars set up around the room.
Angie deserved real credit. Not only had she cajoled the Regis into donating their ballroom for the night, but she’d also managed to get a band to donate their services, the caterer to give her a great deal, and a decorator to dress the room for a nominal fee.
Angie had called upon all the areas rich and elite to come and be entertained, so they’d open their wallets. And it appeared they had come in force.
Charlotte had worn her hair loose and curled around her shoulders. She’d chosen a sleek black dress that skimmed her curves and dipped low in the back. High heels and diamond earrings and bracelet completed a simple and elegant look. She’d been unable to bring herself to wear a costume as Angie had requested, but she had compromised and purchased a lovely mask to carry and wear if need be.
Angie, wearing a sleek red dress, wore a red witch’s hat and makeup that made her green eyes pop like a cat’s. “I should be grateful for the mask.”
Charlotte smiled as she saw a group of noted businessmen and their wives chatting. They were dressed as members of the Starship
Enterprise
. “I’m feeling underdressed.”
She smiled. “Good.”
“You’ve outdone yourself, Angie.”
“So far it’s going well. I think it will be a profitable night.” A waiter passed with a tray of champagne and both women declined. “I was hoping your girl, Sooner, would be here by now.”
Your girl.
“She’s late?”
“By almost an hour. I’d asked her to be here early for set up.”