The Billionaire's Marriage: A Romance Novel

by Marshall, Marnie

  "Me too, baby. I've missed you."

  "Can we, um… go somewhere, like you talked about last week? I'm… going a little stir crazy."

  "Of course, Krissy. Wherever you'd like to go. Just us, or should we bring Ryan?"

  "I, um… can I think about that?"

  "Sure. Krissy?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I love you."

  I swallow. "I know."

  ~oOo~

  Friday morning dawns gray, like my mood. I went to bed last night feeling fairly more positive, after our conversation, by far the longest since he left, but my funk is back. What changed? I clear the sleep from my throat, and it feels a little sore. Shit. I think I might've caught Ryan's cold. Tess peers at my pillow-squished face. "Morning puppies," I rub the girl's ears, and turn to look for Ludwig, in time to see him squatting by the door.

  This day is not starting well.

  By lunchtime, my head is in a fog. Ryan is grumping on the sofa in front of the widescreen, having tolerated my attempt at cuddling him this morning. I can't seem to make him feel better, so I gave him his cherry-flavored syrup and left him to snooze in the company of vintage Sesame Street. Evidently, we have the entire multi-decade series on Edward's entertainment server. I hear the Yep-Yep aliens in the background. They used to scare me to death as a child, but for some reason, Ryan loves them. Makes me wonder if he's really mine. Okay, that was a joke. Even in sickness I still have a sense of humor, albeit a sarcastic one.

  "Mrs. King, Mr. King is on the phone," Gail interrupts my cloudiness.

  "Of course. I'll take it in the kitchen." I rise from the barstool, ignoring the slight dizziness. I can't believe I'm sick. I never get sick. At least, I never used to. I don't know about the last three years, though, and I haven't asked. Line one blinks expectantly at me.

  "Edward?"

  "Krissy, I'm glad I caught you. My flight has been delayed a few hours due to the weather. We'll take off as soon as we're cleared."

  My heart leaps and sinks at the same time. The effect is mighty confusing. I shake it off. "Oh. Um, okay. Should I do anything?"

  "No, baby. I just didn't want you to worry. I'll be home as soon as I can. I'll call when we take off, all right?"

  "All right." I'm not sure what else to say. "I um… hope you have a safe flight."

  "Thank you, baby. How is everything at home?"

  "There's a miserable little boy on the couch, he won't let me cuddle him," I pout.

  "Oh, my poor little one, may I speak to him?"

  I bring the phone over to Ryan, who's contorted himself between the cushions, one arm around his stuffed lion, the opposite thumb firmly plugged between his lips, his nose running profusely. It all looks very uncomfortable. I grab a tissue and wipe his face before he has the opportunity to protest. "Ryan, your daddy's on the phone."

  For a two-year-old, he's amazingly dexterous. He takes the phone in his snot-and-saliva-smeared hand and coughs into the receiver. I can hear Edward's voice through the speaker, but I can't make out what he's saying. Our boy gives short, one-word answers, and then presses the off-button.

  Great.

  I take the phone back with two fingers, deposit it by the kitchen sink, and go in search of another, clean receiver. It rings as I pick it up, startling me.

  "Hello?"

  "My son hung up on me."

  "He's only two."

  "Yes, I suppose that explains it. He wasn't very interested in talking."

  "That could have been because I wiped his face before handing him the phone."

  Edward laughs. "He isn't very fond of that. I hope he isn't giving you too hard a time."

  "I'll manage." I clear my throat.

  "Are you all right? You sound a little off."

  "Just sharing Ryan's germs."

  "Oh no, baby… I'll be home soon to look after you, all right?"

  "You don't have to… I'd rather you didn't get sick too."

  "I want to take care of you. Besides, I haven't had a cold since I was a child. I doubt I'll catch anything. You should rest though, I'll be home as soon as I can."

  "Okay, but I'll be fine, really."

  "Rest, Krissy. Please, for me."

  "I will."

  "I love you. See you soon."

  "Okay."

  I click the phone off. I love you too, Edward. I'm still a damned chicken. Last night, before I went to sleep, I rationalized that he should hear those words in person, when I'm ready for him to hear them, and that's why I haven't said them. But I think I'm still coming to terms with what they mean, and to be honest, Edward still scares me a little bit. But is it what he did that scares me, because I don't remember it, or is it the depth of his emotion toward me, and toward his family? Maybe it's both. I have a headache. I arrange for Carter to stay with Ryan for a few hours and then go to lie down.

  When I wake, it's dusk. My head is stuffy. Great, I've missed the day. I wonder offhand if Edward is home, but he said he'd call before takeoff. I wonder if Gail told him I was asleep and he asked her not to bother me.

  I pull a robe over my silk pajamas, surprised by the chill in the bedroom. Either it's unseasonable cool for late August, or the rain today has brought a front from the north. Either way, I put on my wooly slipper-boots for good measure.

  "Is it going to snow?" Gail teases when I enter the kitchen.

  "Ha ha." I attempt to smell what appears to be a brothy noodle soup on the stove, but my nose fails me. Stupid cold. "Where's Ryan?"

  "Carter put him to bed about a half hour ago." She retrieves a small box from the pantry and hands it to me. Cold medicine. "Take some, and I'll get a bowl of soup ready for you." She hands me a glass of juice, and I do as I'm told. "Mr. King called an hour ago, they were about to take off. He should be in before eleven."

  "Oh, thanks." I dig into the soup, surprisingly hungry. "I hope you and Jason had a good week with Sophie."

  "We did, thanks. Jason is driving her back to her mother's now, so the house is pretty much empty; I think Owen is in the control room tonight until Mr. King and Luke get back."

  "Okay. Will you be around?"

  "Sure, I can stay until they get home, if you'd like. Want to watch a movie?"

  "I'd like that, if you don't mind my germs." I offer her an apologetic smile.

  "Pshh," she waves it off. "If I haven't caught it by now, I'm not going to. I'm going to start some laundry, but I'll be back in ten, okay?"

  "Okay." I return to my soup.

  There's an insistent whimper to my left. The puppies, corralled in their temporary enclosure, are staring me down, expectantly, tails wagging. Ludwig yips.

  "What?"

  More tail wagging.

  "Do you need something?" I peer around to their food dishes, and they're full. I roll my eyes. "Do you need to go out?" Like they understand. They're puppies, I doubt they understand yet that this is their home; it's only been a week. I climb down off the stool and lean over the railing to pick them up, one dog under each arm, awkwardly slide the screen door open, and set them down. They spring off into the yard, barking.

  Oh, shit. In my cold-induced idiocy, I didn't consider leashes. I haven't had to take them out before; Sophie had taken full responsibility, as Edward had asked. I panic, and take off after them.

  There's just enough light that I see them leaping through the tall grass, like the Key Deer I saw on the way to Islamorada the time Mom and Ray took me to Florida. It's not so cute this time. Ryan's going to be so upset. How could I be so stupid?

  Ludwig tears off to the left. I think he must have seen something and chased it, and I follow, hollering at them, but as they're puppies it isn't doing any good, and just makes my throat hurt more. My lungs don't like all this running, either. I've made it down to the beach, just a meter from the water, when Tess tears across, nearly knocking me off my feet, and Ludwig is in hot pursuit. The little blurs that they are, they reach the edge of the woods, and the dark canopy swallows them up.

  Oh, please Go
d, make them stop. Please, I'll do anything, I reason with the higher power. Anything could happen to them in there, they're little and so fragile, and there's Heaven-knows-what in those woods at night. An eagle could swoop down and eat them up. I mutter any number of expletives under my breath, and continue after, as fast as I can, which isn't very fast at all, considering my boots are hindering me, and, hopping, I discard them, one by one. The forest opens upon a mulched trail. I trudge along, shaking, listening for a bark or whine, or any kind of puppy sound, and I'm losing my mind. I'd never have let this happen to Sam. In a way, I feel as though I'm letting him down, and the thought makes me want to cry. If something happens to those puppies, I don't know how I'll be able to forgive myself.

  The trail forks, and again, and again… I don't know how many times. I begin to doubt that a dog in pursuit of small woodland creatures would have the sense to stick to a trail, and after splashing through a rather large puddle, I step over a fallen log and trudge through the squishy greenery. I think I've torn the leg of my pajama bottoms; my leg itches a little, but it's too dark to see if I've scratched it, and right now I couldn't care less. I still can't hear anything that sounds remotely like two rogue dogs, and the pounding in my ears doesn't help. My nose is running liberally, and my sleeve becomes a makeshift tissue. I have to stop. I force myself to quiet, my pulse, my breaths, everything, and just listen.

  And listen.

  And by golly, the angel of Sam must have taken pity on his dear friend, because I do hear a whimper, and it's close. In the last of the evening light, I see a rustling in some ferns, and hear another whimper. I whistle. Why didn't I whistle before? God, I'm stupid. Tess peers out of the foliage, and I run to her. She's filthy, and favoring a front paw, but she's safe, and just as quickly in my arms.

  "Okay," I breathe. "Okay little one, you're safe. Let's find your brother."

  It's a bit more difficult to navigate a densely wooded area when carrying a dog, even a small one, I've decided. In my relief over having accomplished half of the dog-retrieval mission, I wonder when backup will arrive; I doubt my absence has gone unnoticed. I sure could use the help. I hope there's an emergency vet open at this hour. It gets darker, and though it's just a day past full moon, the cloud cover mutes the light considerably. I don't remember praying this hard, not since Sam died, that he'd forgive me for not being there. And now I'm praying for the whimpers of a little dog, because in the darkness, it's all I've got. I'm not going back without him, and that's assuming I can even find my way back, I realize with a shudder. Oh God, am I lost? I whip my head around, and what little I can see, spins. I need to sit down. I fold my legs under me, dropping to the ground, clutching a shivering Tess against my chest. I can't be that far from the trail, I reason with myself. It forks a lot, but one of the paths has to go somewhere, maybe another backyard, and I can find the street and walk home. After I find Ludwig. I'm fairly pleased with my plan, but my head is still floating. I just need to rest for a minute.

  A distressed yelp pierces the night air, and chills me straight through. Oh God, please don't let him be hurt. Please, I beg. I hear it again, and I stumble forward, Tess bouncing in my arms, and then it comes again, closer. It's so dark. I'm terrified what I'll find, and I lose my footing over a tree root, taking the fall on my side to avoid crushing the bundle in my arms. She squeals anyway.

  "I'm sorry, girl," I soothe her. My hip and elbow throb. I hear a yip, but it doesn't seem quite as distressed as before, and it echoes below me. I prop myself on one hand, still holding Tess, and I have to thank the root I tripped over, because before me is a chasm, an uprooted pit at the base of a toppled, ancient tree. And at the bottom, is an equally filthy little dog.

  "Thank you, Sam!" I say aloud, my insides cheering. My head swims with elation, or exhaustion… but no matter; by the grace of some really, really forgiving deity of furry family members, I've found the little ones. Perhaps I can get them home and bathed and myself cleaned up, and Edward won't have any idea we were gone in the first place, I tell myself. I tie the belt tighter around me, and tuck Tess in the V created by the robe lapels. I'll need both my hands, and I hope my right arm is up to the challenge. Tugging on a dangling root, I find footing here and there, and monkey my way downward.

  The bottom is a muddy pit of overlying roots and forest litter. Ludwig is so overcome with doggy joy that he launches himself at me. Sam did this every day when I came through the door; Ray called it excessive-greeting-syndrome. I choke back a sob at the thought, and tuck the little guy into my robe with his sister. I must be a sight. Gail is going to laugh so hard, and then I'm going to bed. After I wash the dogs.

  My head is swimming again, and I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to get home. I grab hold of the climbing root, brace my foot against a crumbled rock, and pull. The root snaps, and I fall backward onto a mesh of roots and a squish of mud. Great. Let's try this again. I get up and immediately fall forward, catching myself against the dirt wall of this mud prison; my ankle is wedged among a tangle of roots. Great. I twist it, pulling and straining, but it won't budge.

  Fantastic. I need a new plan. There must be someone looking for me by now, the staff is paranoid enough.

  "Hello?" I call, and then cough. "Can anyone hear me?"

  I realize suddenly that I'm sweating, and it's cold. The breeze can't reach me down here, but it's uncomfortably chilly. My head has begun to pound, or maybe it already hurt, and I was too distracted to acknowledge it. I'm overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. I wipe my runny nose again on my sleeve. I have to get out of here.

  I call out again, and listen, but hear nothing. My throat is burning. I think I'm shivering, but I can't tell if it's me or the puppies. They're huddled against me, not going anywhere. Oh, God… why? Why lead me to them and then… wait, I said I'd do anything. "That's not what I meant!" I yell, bringing on another round of coughing. What do I do? I pull weakly again, but my foot is as stuck as ever, and pulling only hurts more. I lean back against the damp roots. Edward is going to be beside himself. I swallow, and it hurts. Edward. Please, please find me. I feel my wrist, and my bracelet is gone. Oh, no. Did I lose it? I don't remember taking it off, and I don't remember wearing it earlier. I have no idea, but I have nothing to hold onto, except the puppies. My heart pounds and I realize suddenly, I'm terrified.

  It's so dark down here, and cold. I try to yell again, but my voice cuts off in a sob, and I can't squeak out a sound. Now I know it's me that's shaking. This can't happen. Oh please don't let this happen. I squeeze my eyes shut, despite the darkness, and try to conjure Edward's beautiful face.

  And I hear a voice. My eyes burst open, into darkness. I call out, but I don't hear myself, save the echo in my ears. I hear the voice again, louder, and it's… singing? Another voice joins it, and another, a choir of voices? Something stings… over my arm, spreading over my belly, down my legs, and the singing is louder. More voices, swirling together. It's so loud. I can't think, and the stinging in my body… oh!

  And then, everything dulls, mercifully, like fading pain, and slips away.

  CHAPTER 15

  ~ EDWARD ~

  "I don't know when, Ros. The next day or so, I imagine. Greg Lynch at the Manhattan office will be in touch with the specifics."

  "I understand. Have a good time. Give Krissy my best."

  "I will." I hit the 'off' button and lean back in my seat. I have half a mind to go to the back for a nap, but there's only an hour left, and it's likely I won't sleep. My patience is thin, as it usually is, after many days away from home. Sawyer has been a competent stand-in, but it'll be a relief to have Taylor back at my side; this man has my wife's habits down but not many of my own, to make day to day operations easier. I allow my eyes to close, willing my brain to be still, for once. I can't wait to see my wife and son.

  "Sir?" Sawyer interrupts my nap attempt, after I don't know how long. His face is ashen. "I have Taylor for you. It's urgent."

  My eyes fly open. The last time Tay
lor approached me with an urgent matter it was to tell me that my wife may be dying. My fingers snap the phone from him. "Taylor?"

  "Sir, Krissy's missing. She went out the back door with the dogs; it looks like they ran off and she went after them. Owen is out there with a flashlight and Gail is with Ryan. I'm almost to SeaTac to pick you up. The local Search and Rescue are on the way."

  Christ. My gut clenches with terror. "When did this happen?"

  "About twenty minutes ago. Owen's not sure which way she went; the porch cameras don't see past the edge of the lawn. She can't have gone far, Sir. We'll find her."

  "What's our ETA?" I bark at Sawyer.

  "I'll find out, Sir."

  "Why wasn't anyone watching her?" I shout at Taylor. My heart is pounding.

  "I'm not clear on the specifics, Sir. I put priority on finding her."

  Of course. I'm a complete shit, looking to blame someone when there are more important things… one most important thing… my wife. My free hand has clenched my hair, pulling to the point of pain. "Call Garrett in. Light a fire under Search and Rescue, get everyone. I want teams looking for her five fucking minutes ago."

  "I'm on it, Sir."

  Oh, God. Please. Not again. Let her be all right.

  "We'll be landing in twenty minutes, Sir."

  I glance at Sawyer and jerk my chin toward the other flight phone. "Call Carter in, and get Welch to send anyone he can spare. Apprise them of the situation. I want them at the house immediately."

  "Yes, Sir."

  I fumble with the speed dial. It rings three fucking times before someone picks up.

  "Edward?"

  "Dad, I need help."

  ~oOo~

  Blue strobes. Uniforms. Yes, they're here. They're here to help. They'll find her. I'll find her.

  "Edward!" My mother bursts from the front door. Her eyes are red. Please, no…

  "Where's Ryan?"

  "Upstairs, Mia is with him. Everyone else is out looking, but..."

  I brush past her.