Enfold (Thornhill Trilogy Book 3)

by J. J. Sorel

  “Where’s James?” Aidan’s voice went up a decibel. I felt the tremor in his tone. I could tell Aidan wanted to erupt but was trying to control it. “Clarissa, you were meant to be with him.”

  “Please don’t, Aidan. Not now. I just want to go home.”

  I heard a jagged breath in my ear. “Yeah, sure. It’s just that… fuck, Clarissa.” He paused to breathe out his frustration. “You’re not hurt are you, baby?”

  “I’m okay. I just want to go home.” My voice drowned in tears.

  “You’re safe now, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll call James now. He can track you. I’m on my way home as we speak. I should be there in two hours.”

  “I need you, Aidan. This has been…” I broke down again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t be sorry. I’ll get off now so I can call James, okay? See you soon, Clarissa. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I sniffled.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tabitha and I piled into James’s SUV. I’d never felt happier to see my driver than at that moment. We sat quietly in the backseat, holding onto to each other for the whole ten-minute journey.

  When we finally arrived, I stepped out of the car. “Thanks, James. I’m sorry I didn’t get you to drive me around.”

  His smiling dark, gentle eyes reflected understanding. “Hey, it’s cool. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Tabitha and I walked along the cobbled path. Normally, I’d amble along and enjoy the aesthetics of the garden at night with the lamps lighting up the trees and casting sculptural shadows everywhere. But at that moment, all I wanted was a stiff drink and a bath.

  Grant was in the middle of a show and on his break when he’d called. He promised to come straight over afterward to be with Tabitha.

  I left her at the cottage. “Are you going to be okay until Grant gets here?”

  “Yeah.” We hugged each other again. “I’m going to soak in a bath with a crisp white.” She smiled gently. This was not my bombastic friend. This was an earnest version that pretty much reflected my state— a mixture of relief, fear and exhaustion.

  “Hey, do you think he’s still alive?” I asked.

  Tabitha’s mouth turned down. “Don’t know. Whatever happened, the fucker deserved it. He wanted to kill us, Clary.”

  My face pinched. “But why?”

  “Has Aidan got many enemies?”

  “A few, I think,” I answered, sighing. Bryce’s greasy, desperate face entered my mind. I grabbed my arms and shivered. “I need to go up, Tabs. Are you sure you’ll be okay here?”

  “I’ll lock the door. Grant should be here in about an hour.”

  When I entered the dining area, I was relieved to find it empty of Susana. She was the last person I wanted to lay eyes on. I didn’t want her to see a broken version of me, for some reason.

  My heavy body barely made it up the stairs. I opened the door to the large room and turned the lamps on before heading for the bathroom.

  I stood in the Moroccan-tiled bathroom, big enough to house a small family, and went over to the large sunken bath to turn on the taps. As the water gushed out I stripped off my clothes.

  I lowered my shaky frame onto the smooth floor of the tub and exhaled deeply as the warm water cascaded over my shivering skin. Leaning my neck back into the indented padding, I finally released the tightness in my body.

  Twisted faces and dark clouds left my thoughts. I had finally managed to unwind, when Aidan entered.

  I looked up. He was unshaven, his hair tousled, and his face wore a haunted, lost expression. Aidan’s eyes were so darkly serious, my body tightened again. I read self-blame in that gorgeous, but broken face.

  Not one word was uttered. He just stripped out of his clothes and jumped into the bath with me. He sat behind me and wrapped his arms around me. Tears pooled in my eyes. The anguish I’d been carrying suddenly melted away in his strong arms.

  We remained like that for a long while, holding each other. It was as if we were waiting for the warm water to wash away the tension that had swallowed our blissful lives.

  It wasn’t until I seated myself down on the sofa, dressed in a thick bathrobe, with a whisky in hand, that I was able to speak.

  “Clarissa, why didn’t you use James?”

  I resented his annoyed tone. “Aren’t you just pleased I got out of it alive?”

  He combed his hair back with his fingers, pacing about like a tiger looking for a victim. “I am, princess. But you’ve got to follow orders. They’re there for a good reason.”

  “And what’s that?” My voice had a touch of ice. “That you have a ton of enemies that want to harm us?”

  An uneven breath left his parted lips. “I’m sorry, Clarissa, for dragging you into my fucked-up world. It’s the last thing I want for us.” He poured himself some bourbon and gulped it down.

  “I just wanted to have a day out with Tabitha. You know? A normal day. Have lunch, then off to the auction.” I thought about the dress in the backseat of the car that the police had taken away. My brow puckered in despair.

  He shook his head. “What?”

  “I found an exquisite dress to wear for our…” I burst out crying. This was the first time we’d been heated with each other. It wasn’t my thing, this defensive stance. But Aidan’s authoritative attitude had stiffened my back.

  “For our wedding?” he asked. Aidan’s eyes softened, and he came to me and took me into his arms. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you. It’s just that if anything had happened to you…”

  My body liquefied in his strong arms. “Do you think I’ll get my dress back?”

  Aidan’s tightened expression softened. He brushed my cheek. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Promise me you won’t look at it.”

  Aidan’s lips curled for the first time since arriving. He held his finger up. “Scout’s honor.”

  We exchanged a gentle smile and held each other tight.

  The following morning, Aidan took a call from the police while I ate my breakfast out on the balcony.

  I knew that I’d have to go in and make more statements. I was obsessing over my dress so much that I’d forgotten to think about anything else. It was probably a distraction from the obvious— someone was trying to kill me.

  I watched Aidan’s face for clues. His mouth tightened. I put my fork down. My appetite had disappeared. The cup trembled in my hands as I took a sip of coffee. The heat stung my lips, which were sensitive from my teeth having bitten into them once too often.

  After Aidan ended the call, he came and joined me at the table. He lowered himself onto the seat. His eyelids lifted, and I fell into his blue and troubled gaze.

  “What’s happening, Aidan? Is he dead?”

  He shook his head. “Apparently, he escaped from the wreckage.”

  “So he’s alive?”

  He shrugged. “He must be.”

  “That’s a relief,” I murmured into my coffee.

  “I would have preferred the asshole caught, myself.”

  “Me too. But at least my actions didn’t cause a death,” I said.

  “Of course, baby. I’m sorry. This has been so hard for you. And it’s all because of me.”

  “Stop blaming yourself, Aidan. I don’t see it that way. It’s a small price to pay to be with you. If I had to choose, then I’d prefer to be in danger and be with you instead of being safe and not with you.”

  “Oh, my angel. I will do everything to keep you safe.” Aidan held me. “There is something you must promise me. You must promise me not to drive. James must drive from now on, okay?”

  I nodded with a tight, contrite smile.

  “Would that have made a difference? We still would’ve been pursued, I imagine,” I asked.

  Aidan sighed. “Yeah, probably. Only James has got a gun.”

  A sudden lump made it difficult to swallow. “This is really getting dark, Aidan.”

  “That it is. I’m going to
get to the bottom of it. Don’t you worry, my love.” He rose. “We have to go in now. Are you okay with that?”

  “You bet. I want my dress back.”

  Aidan cast me one of those smiles that made all the drama playing out in my head evaporate.

  I leaned in and kissed him feverishly, tongue and all.

  He pulled back his head to look at me. His eyes had a lusty glow. “Hmm… That’s better.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AIDAN

  Blood charged through my veins. From the moment I received news of the car chase from my father, adrenaline thundered through me, just as it had in the fields of Afghanistan, plus more. Much more. Such was my rage, I could’ve leaped over a building. I had to get to Clarissa and hold her close. Protect her. That my beautiful girl was in danger due to my shitty past made my blood boil. I wanted to kill the motherfucker that was behind it.

  Clarissa’s squeal of delight after the cop handed her a parcel released some of the heaviness gripping me. Earlier, I’d heard her tell the cop that I wasn’t allowed to see it. The policeman scratched his chin and agreed. When she added that it was her wedding dress, he peered up at me with an expression that said what I felt— You’re one lucky man.”

  But it was back to serious business. I gave some names to the cops. Bryce stood out for me. But then a creepy, ghostly finger slid down my spine as John Howard’s ugly head entered my thoughts. The name of the brutal husband of my former teacher was taken down as well.

  As I entered the room that had become our love haven, a jagged breath left my lips. It was such a relief, being home with my beautiful girl. Clarissa was on the balcony, sketching. What a sight— bare feet, a floral skirt, and a loose blouse, her hair up in a messy bun. I could have watched her all day. She calmed me. And I sure as hell needed some relief from my unsettled, chattering mind.

  I stepped out onto the balcony and peered over her shoulder at the sketch she was working on—a drawing of the garden. I bent down and planted a kiss on her long, slender neck.

  She gazed up and smiled sweetly, turning her sketch over.

  “Hey, I was looking at that,” I protested.

  “It’s not ready yet. It’s only a study. I’m going to do a watercolor of the same scene.”

  I’d seen her watercolors. They were magical, just like her. Clarissa had a ton of talent. Besides the bubble of pride that that generated, a sliver of insecurity lingered inside of me. Maybe she’d tire of me after meeting someone as talented as Chris and leave me. I’d even voiced that fear one night after a few tongue-loosening drinks. In response, Clarissa fell onto her knees and swallowed every last drop I had in me.

  What was a man meant to do with that? Feel reassured, I suppose.

  I stroked her arm, noticing she was braless. It was hard not to want to run my hands under her blouse. Our earlier lovemaking had done little to satisfy my appetite for her. I pushed my pelvis against her shoulder as my cock thickened.

  Her big brown eyes went all melty with lust as she gazed up at me. Her skin puckered to my touch, and her nipples strained against her blouse, making my lips ache to taste them.

  Clarissa giggled. “Aidan, I think my sketch has aroused you.”

  I laughed. “Even though I’m stimulated by its considerable artistic merit, it’s more to do with the fact you’re not wearing a bra, Clarissa.” I raised a brow.

  My hand went up her blouse, indulging in her warm, soft, full breasts which made my mouth water. “Why don’t you step inside for a moment, sweetheart. The gardeners are out and about. And even though I love touching you in public, at home, it’s different.”

  She rose and allowed me to lead her back inside. I couldn’t help but sigh with pleasure over how our sexual appetites were perfectly matched. Waking up to Clarissa’s warm, writhing body was a joy to behold. It had become an addiction for me, because whenever I went away, my bed felt cold and empty. Not to mention the nightmares that magically disappeared whenever I wrapped my arms around Clarissa. Her warm breath while she slept was the sweetest, most comforting feeling on my skin.

  In the mornings, I loved how she would move gently against me. As I spooned her, still half asleep, she would transport me to an erotic twilight zone. My cock was always hard and throbbing and her sweet little pussy always wet and ready.

  I could have lost every dollar I owned, and I still would have been a happy man knowing that Clarissa was mine.

  We were made for each other.

  My hand travelled up her skirt and found her pussy naked. “Mm… I’m glad we’re adhering to the no-panties rule.” My fingers crept up her warm thighs and parted her damp lips, entering gently into that oh-so perfect tight little pink opening. “Ah… princess, you feel nice and creamy.”

  Clarissa had her hand on my zipper and was about to free my throbbing cock when the phone buzzed. I had been waiting on a call from the cops, and I couldn’t ignore it. “Damn, I’ve got to get that.”

  After I ended the call, my veins went from pumping hot to icy cold in a matter of seconds.

  “What is it, Aidan?” asked Clarissa.

  “Bryce is dead.”

  Clarissa’s eyes widened. “What? Was he driving behind me? Did he die from the crash?”

  “No. It wasn’t him. He was in Vegas at the time of the accident.”

  “How did he die?”

  “He was stabbed in an alleyway.”

  “In Vegas?” asked Clarissa in a shocked tone.

  I shook my head. “No. Downtown. He was stabbed in the early hours of this morning. He must have flown back late last night.” I grabbed my jacket. “I’ve got to go into the police station now.”

  “Do you want me to come?” she asked.

  “No, beautiful girl, please stay here. I won’t be long.” I held her tight. My heart was beating fast. For once, it wasn’t from being turned on.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The police station had that Sunday-morning-after-hangover vibe. I could see it had been a big night. There were mainly young men in their late teens to early twenties, searching for themselves, exerting their masculinity by fighting and showing that theirs was bigger. They straggled out. In the harsh light of day, they’d shrunk. Shuffling along, laden with regret, they stared down at their feet.

  An older man sat behind his desk, staring out the window. He seemed lost in thought. Upon my entry, he turned and pointed to a chair. “Thanks for coming in so quickly. I’m Detective Max Hudson from the Homicide Special Section.”

  I shook his hand. “This is about Bryce Beaumont, I take it?”

  “Yeah. As you know, he was found murdered early yesterday morning.”

  I nodded.

  “We’ll need to know your whereabouts.”

  Predictably, I was a suspect. Without flinching, I replied, “I was at my home in Malibu.”

  “Can anyone vouch for that?”

  “Yes, my fiancée, cook, security guy, and maid.”

  “I’m aware that your fiancée, Clarissa Moone, was involved in a car-ramming incident Friday evening.”

  I nodded. “Have you got any news on the driver?”

  He shook his head. “All we’ve been able to ascertain from the wreckage is that it was a rented vehicle.”

  “You don’t think Bryce could have been involved?”

  “Nope. He was in Vegas at the time. We’ve got CCTV footage of him there to confirm that. He still had a plane ticket in his pocket when we found him dead. We traced credit card transactions back to a hotel in Vegas.”

  “He wasn’t robbed when you found him?”

  He shook his head. “He didn’t have any cash on him, but his credit cards and license were found on him.” He squared his shoulders. “Tell me about your relationship with the deceased.”

  I took a deep breath. “We were in the Special Forces together in Afghanistan. After I set up the Veterans’ Health Center, I employed him to run it. I fired him after he caused trouble.”

  “Mm… that’s the shortened ver
sion. You had him charged for an abduction attempt on your fiancée. He was out on bail when he was stabbed.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m still wondering who bailed him out.”

  “All roads lead back to you, Thornhill.”

  I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Your ex-fiancée, Jessica Mansfield, paid one million big ones to bail him out. She was also sleeping with him at the time of his murder.”

  Even though that was old news for me, I kept that to myself.

  “Okay, so she bailed him out.”

  “The night of Bryce’s murder, your father left a message on the deceased’s phone. I can tell you it wasn’t for a pleasant chat. He left a threatening message.”

  His stare penetrated. He scrutinized my face, seeking clues, but I remained stone-cold sober. I was good at that, despite the internal haywire.

  My father had known of Bryce’s threats to bring down my empire. I recalled his suggestion to place a hit on Bryce after I expressed my despair at having to send more cash to buy his silence. Of course, that was no longer necessary. But Grant was not aware that I’d been exonerated. It had been a big month, and I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with him, partly due to his lack of availability since he started bedding Tabitha.

  “My father’s many things, but a murderer he is not.”

  “There’s one thing I’ve learned from this job. Many will murder to protect those they love. Bryce Beaumont was on the take. After your generous handouts stopped, he attempted to abduct your fiancée. Would you please explain why you were paying him large sums of money on a regular basis? Separate to his wage, of course.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. Fuck. This was martial law now. I knew he was out of his jurisdiction. “Bryce was blackmailing me over an incident in Afghanistan.”

  He gesticulated for me to continue.

  “It was an incident during an ambush, involving a fellow soldier. I have since been exonerated for it.”

  He nodded slowly. “You went through a military tribunal?”

  Sweat dripped down my back. “Not as such. I reported it to my superior and was cleared of any wrongdoing. At the time, Bryce played on my guilt. I was distressed after our platoon was nearly wiped out. My best buddy lay dying. I had to put him out of his misery before the Taliban made minced meat of him by dragging him through the streets as a trophy. I might add, we were miles away from the evacuation zone and surrounded by insurgents.”