31
Alyssa scanned the results from a search on Nicholas Doyle. “He's too clean to be true,” she told Harper. “He's been in various businesses since he was eighteen. Very prosperous businesses. He was also his brother's guardian.”
“The question is, was Greg Doyle connected to the bowl? And why did he try to rob Lisa?” he asked. “We never found this Tootsie who made the duplicate.”
“No, we haven't. Everyone who's tried to get that bowl is dead,” Alyssa said. “Including Gregory Doyle.” She and Harper had been working the case for months.
“Your ancestor cursed that bowl.”
Alyssa chuckled. “You don't believe in curses.”
“No, I don't. But I also don't think Lisa is being truthful about everything.”
“That's nothing new.”
“When is Jordan arriving?” Harper asked.
“Tonight.” Jordan was Alyssa's fiancé. He'd finally gotten her to agree to marry him, but they hadn't set a date yet.
“Well, I've scheduled everyone, even the citizen police, to work the entire festival. I don't want any surprises.” He shook his head. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Me, too. With all the attention on that bowl, we hired extra security.”
Harper nodded.
Brian was healing quickly, but obviously not as quickly as he wanted to. He had to return to the base for a second day.
When Lisa visited her grandmother she was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea.
“How're you doing, Grandma?” Her grandmother gave her a hug and got a tea cup out of the cupboard.
“Are you sure you should be up and moving about so soon?” Lisa asked.
“I'm doing well. The doctor said so. I'm ready to start doing things,” she said. “The new procedures have a shorter recovery time.”
“Good thing, too. You never were good at being sick. I brought you some soup.”
“I don't have a cold.”
“But soup's still
good. It's full of vegetables.”
Her grandmother must have seen the desperation in her eyes. “Thank you, Lisa.” She reached for the bowl.
“It's okay, Grandma. I'll bring you something else tomorrow.”
“Don't mind me. I'm just testy from being confined. I'll love the soup and your grandfather will, too.”
“Are you sure?” Lisa asked uncertainly.
Her grandmother nodded. “It's just I can't tend to my garden the way I want to. Good thing I got my spring vegetables planted early.”
“Uncle Cleve is looking after your garden, isn't he?”
“Not the way I want it. I can see the weeds from my window.”
“Uncle Cleve said he was going to put something on it to kill the weeds.”
“I don't want him using weed killer. I want my garden as close to organic as I can get it.”
“I'll weed it for you, Grandma.” Lisa knew it was frustrating when you couldn't do things the way you wanted them done.
Naomi looked hopeful. “Are you sure you have the time?” she asked.
Lisa didn't, but she said, “I'll make the time.” She spent the next hour chopping and pulling the weeds out of the garden, careful not to chop up vegetables. Night had fallen by the time she returned the hoe to the shed. She went in to see her grandparents before she left.
“Thank you, Lisa. I feel better now. Everything straight for Founder's Day?”
Lisa assured her grandmother that both the garden and the Founder's Day arrangements were in good order before she said good-bye.
By the time she made it home, Brian was there and she was glad to see him. He'd tucked a towel at his waist and was cooking dinner. She didn't know that he could cook. It made Lisa realize how much she
didn't
know about him.
“I go back to work on Monday,” he said.
It felt like things were changing already, Lisa thought.
“Do you have to move back on base?”
“No. I'm training recruits until I heal completely.”
He obviously didn't like that. “How long before you return to your regular duties?” Lisa asked.
“Depends on how quickly I heal.”
They had focused so much on sex and recent problems, they'd hadn't even touched the surface. But wasn't that the relationship she'd asked for? No attachments. Just the sex, thank you.
Now she had the sex, but she wasn't satisfied. It seemed so shallow. Great, but shallow. There should be something deeper. Something more meaningful. She wanted what her grandmother had, what Barbara had. What Alyssa and Gabrielle had. But she was Lisa.
Why
couldn't
she have more? What law said she had to accept less?
“Your hair looks great,” Brian said, with a smile. He approached her, flicked the hair from her face, and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“What's wrong? You look like you're contemplating the weight of the world.”
Lisa smiled. “I visited Grandma.”
“How is she?”
“Great. Had me chopping the weeds from her garden.”
Brian chuckled. “My little farmer. Ever thought about a garden here? You have enough land for it.”
“Actually I hadn't. I could plant some things. I haven't lived here long enough. But it would be nice to have fresh vegetables and a few fruit trees.”
“Maybe I can plant a few trees in the fall. It's too late now.”
In the fall
. Would he be there in the fall?
“Food's almost ready.”
“Do I have time to shower?”
“Sure, but be quick.”
Dinner was ready by the time she returned to the kitchen. Steak, sweet potatoes and a salad. A safe meal, but one she didn't have to prepare and she was grateful for it.
Lisa smiled at Brian from across the table.
“There's more where that came from,” he said.
Now what did he mean by that?”
Magdelena was right. They should talk, but now wasn't the right time.
Later that night, Lisa was lying in bed waiting for Brian, who'd taken an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. What on earth was he doing in there?
He came out and sat on the bed on her side.
“Close your eyes and turn over,” he said.
“Why?” Lisa normally had a suspicious nature but she trusted Brian.
“I've got something for you.”
Sighing, she closed her eyes and did as instructed.
He slid her nightshirt up her back and his deliciously warm hands caressed her skin. She lifted up as he removed the top completely.
She heard him rubbing his hands together and then they were on her back, warm and slick with oil.
With her eyes closed, all her senses were heightened. The pressure from his hands was both titillating and therapeutic. The muscles in her back began to relax. She was more tense than she realized.
“Ahhhh,” she groaned. “That feels wonderful.”
“Great.” His breath was a whisper against her ear and sent goose bumps over her skin.
She concentrated on every stroke he made. He slowly dragged her panties down her thighs and legs, caressing her as he went. She felt bereft when his touch left her, and again she heard him rubbing his hands together.
This time he started with her toes, massaging and pressuring at the optimal points. He worked his way slowly up her ankles, calves, even the back of her knees and thighs.
She was ready to give in right then, but he massaged her backside, the dip in her back. Goose bumps spread throughout her body. She felt as relaxed as a rag doll and stirred as every nerve in her body seemed oversensitive to his touch.
Finally he flipped her over, then said, “Now you can open your eyes.”
When she opened them, the light seemed overly bright.
“You want sex,” Brian said, “and I definitely plan to give you your deepest desire.”
“But . . .”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “No talking allowed, sweetheart.”
Lisa closed her mouth but he replaced his finger with his lips. And the sweetest kiss quickly progressed to deep and imploring.
His lips and hands explored her body, drawing a deep moan from deep inside her. He drew circles around her nipples before he lightly suckled on one, then the other. He drew his tongue around her naval while his hands caressed her hips and her thighs.
They felt quivery and weak.
She drew her hand down the hard muscles sheathed beneath soft skin. She felt the play of muscles as he moved from one position to the next.
He kissed her intimately, paying particular attention to her clitoris.
Some of her boyfriends couldn't even find it and when she tried to explain where it was and just how to touch her, they were only concerned about getting their own pleasure, not caring that women drew such pleasure from this one area.
Not Brian. With oil-slicked fingers, he played her like a skilled violinist until she screamed out in pleasure.
When he'd drawn the last breath of pleasure from her, he moved up her body. He stroked her face, kissed her lips gently, then entered her. And they moved together, their bodies slick with oil.
He drew out the pleasure for them both. They rocked to a rhythmic beat until she came again and he followed her close behind.
Spent, he lay beside her and pulled her against him.
When Lisa finally caught her breath, she said, “That was the best lovemaking I've ever had. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. I enjoyed every moment.”
Lisa turned in his arms and kissed him before he tugged her against him once again.
“Brian. We should talk.”
“Not right now. I can't take serious now,” he said, his voice sounding sleepy. Men liked to sleep after sex. She already knew that.
I'll get up later and wash,
she thought. She faced him, ran her fingers over his firm jaw, his lips. He captured her fingers in his mouth, licked the tips before he held her hand against his chest.
Lisa kissed him on the edge of his mouth and settled back. He gathered her close. She felt the beat of his heart against her fingertips and closed her eyes on the overwhelming emotions.
Nicholas went upstairs after he'd purged a river of tears. He considered what he would do about his brother's house and what he'd found there. He'd take care of it, of course. Didn't he always? He wouldn't have his brother's name besmirched any more than it already was.
At least Deana hadn't seen it. She'd go berserk.
Before he dealt with the remnants of his brother's world, he had something more important to do. He had to take care of the Claxtons and he had to possess the golden bowl. He would put it in a place of honor to remind him forever of his dear brother.
Now that he'd come to a decision, he was leaving in the morning. He couldn't spend the night with Deana. She got on his nerves. So he slept in Greg's cottage, on the couch. Deana didn't return there to check up on him. He hadn't expected her to.
When he went to the house to shower around four-thirty the next morning, Deana was still sleeping. Probably more peacefully now than when Greg was alive. She'd married Nicholas to bail her family from financial ruin. He wasn't fooled by her loving act. Not for a second. There was no love between them. If he died tomorrow, she could care less. Actually she'd be better off. He'd signed a contract giving her the property her parents lived on and if Greg died before she did, she would own everything.
He wished he had time to see his lawyer to change his will. Of course he'd have to leave Lana a sizable portion, too. She'd helped him with the funeral arrangements. She was very concerned about him. Even though Greg spooked her, too, her concern was more genuine. She was more real.
No, he wouldn't wait. He'd have it changed immediatelyâbefore he went to the island. If anything happened, and of course it wouldn't, she'd be taken care of. And that would continue.
Maybe he should leave Deana. Maybe it was time for him to settle with someone more like him. Like Lana. He'd never marry again, but Lana would satisfy all his needs. Who needed the upper crust anyway?
It was Lana who'd stood by him during his worst hours. He had no intention of leaving Deana an ultrawealthy woman. He called his lawyer and explained what he wanted done. He'd stop by his lawyer's office before he headed to the island.