by Diana Fraser
“I want my child.”
“Maybe. But you want the land more.” She turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?”
“To the only thing I have left. My house.”
“It’s not yours.”
“I’ll be living there from now on, even if I don’t own it.”
Gemma half stumbled down the dusty path, back to the house. She had to leave, had to get out of there, away from Callum. Everything now made perfect sense. All Callum had ever wanted was the land and an heir to leave it to. He’d thought he’d got both in her, but he’d get neither.
Gemma drove away unnoticed by the few remaining people who continued to drink on the verandah of Glencoe. She drove the straight road without daring to think or feel, postponing the moment until she was alone.
By the time she reached Blackrock, night had fallen and the darkness around the house was complete. She switched off the engine and let the dust subside for a moment before stepping out into the night. Immediately her nostrils flared at the faint smell of cigarette smoke. She shrugged—must be on her clothes from the reception—and walked up the steps to the front door.
She closed her eyes. Key. Damn. She’d been in such a state she hadn’t brought the key with her. She tried the handle but it was locked, just as she thought. Then she remembered the faulty lock on the sash window of her bedroom. She picked up a stool from the shed and walked carefully around the house, feeling the wall as she went. When she reached her bedroom, she stretched out, gripped the edge of the window frame and lifted the window high. That smell again. Strange. It seemed stronger here. She breathed in deeply. Much stronger.
She sat on the frame, swung over her feet and dropped down onto the wooden floorboards of her bedroom with a thud. She fumbled her way across to the lamp and switched it on.
“Gemma!” She turned to see Paul leaning against the door, arms crossed. “Kind of you to save me the trouble of gate-crashing your wedding.”
CHAPTER TEN
Gemma couldn’t move. Her mouth dried and she opened it to scream but no sound came. There was no one to hear it anyway. She was quite alone with a man who was as unpredictable as he was dangerous. Beyond the circle of lamplight, his eyes, which she knew to be as blue as Callum’s, were as black as midnight and fixed on hers. He betrayed no emotion as he continued to watch her with riveting focus that made her forget about everything else. It had been that same intensity that had first drawn her to him, an intensity she’d mistaken for love. She’d forgotten the effect it had always had on her. It stirred in her such a complex blend of fear, attraction and sadness that she felt light-headed.
A slow smile settled on his handsome face. He was aware of her response. He knew her too well. She should hate him. She did hate him, she told herself. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to her. Her heart pounded heavily, trying to give life to her limbs that refused to move. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, the full force of memory slamming into her, transporting her back to her past life.
He stopped in front of her. He was as tall as Callum but not as big-boned. But she knew his body, knew the taut muscles and its wiry strength. It had, at one and the same time, attracted her and frightened her. She forced herself to look down, focusing on the cross at his neck, a symbol so at odds with his lack of morals that she’d never been able to understand how he could reconcile his faith with how he lived his life.
“I was joking, Gemma. I know it couldn’t be your wedding, no matter what I’ve been told.” He tilted her chin firmly up so she was forced to look into those cold, cold eyes once more. “I’ve come to take you home.” She trembled at his touch. She closed her eyes before they betrayed the ambiguity it sparked. She shook her head, still unable to speak. “Come on,” he said softly. “Time to go.” He glanced around her home with a faint smile. “I don’t want you in this place a moment longer. It’s a wreck.”
She shook her head again. “It’s my home.” She tried to step away but his hand tightened on her wrist.
“It’s Sarah’s home, not yours.” His mouth curled upward in a cruel smile that had never been aimed at her before. He pinched her chin between his fingers, too hard. “Not yours,” he repeated. He blinked slowly, as if for control. His eyes turned blank once more and he stepped away.
Out from under the control of his eyes, Gemma found her voice and her strength. “I’m not leaving, Paul, you are.”
He turned to face her. “Not without you.” His voice was harsh and his lips had tightened into a straight line, losing the initial softness that had almost made her forget what he was really like. Suddenly she remembered everything. A thousand memories flooded into her mind. She had to get him away, make him leave before he inflicted on her the kind of deliberate, cold cruelty she’d seen him make others suffer. But she knew she couldn’t do it by force. She had to make him see.
“No. I left you, Paul. I left because I couldn’t live with you any longer.”
The smile dropped. “No, you were playing games. You wanted me to find you.”
She swallowed and drew in a jerky breath. “No. I left without a word because I knew you wouldn’t let me leave you.”
He must have heard the fear in her voice, because he stepped towards her, too close, his head cocked to one side. “Why would you want to leave me? I gave you everything.”
“I didn’t want everything. I wanted my freedom.”
He smiled as if the notion was ridiculous. “Ah, there you have me. There’s a limit to my indulgence, Princess.” He looked around the room, at the scanty furniture, the brightly painted walls, uneven under the original scrim covering. “So, this is what freedom brings.”
“It’s what I want. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Then let’s stop talking about it. We’ll be back in London by tomorrow.”
“No.”
He shook his head. “You were clever, I’ll give you that. I’d never have thought to look for you here if Sarah hadn’t slipped up.”
“She’s okay, isn’t she?”
He shrugged. “No idea. She mentioned to a friend that she knew you were okay. So I had her apartment searched and her phone told me everything I needed to know. She supplied the rest of the details. In what state my men left her, I’ve no idea. Not interested.”
“No…” Gemma groaned. She felt sick to her stomach. Sarah had put herself on the line to help her out, and she’d ended up paying. But what price?
“You were clever though,” Paul continued. “Because I had no idea you two were such good friends.”
“We kept it quiet.” She drew a deep breath. She knew what he was capable of. But she had no choice because she knew he’d never believe it if he didn’t hear it from her. “I don’t love you, Paul. I don’t want to be with you.”
He shook his head, his expression revealing only confidence. Ambiguity and confusion weren’t things Paul suffered from. “Silly girl.” He drew in a deep breath and lifted his chin as if seeking air. He walked away from her, raised the second sash window and flicked out a still-lighted cigarette. “It’s quiet here, no-one around for miles. No-one to see anything, no-one to hear anything.”
“It won’t be for long. I have…friends arriving soon.”
He turned back to her and she couldn’t see his face against the last of the evening light. “Friends,” he repeated. “And what kind of friends are these, hey, Gemma?” He came close to her and she felt the quickened breath of anger against her cheek. Through years of experience, she didn’t move. “I received reports. I ignored them, told them they must have been following the wrong woman. My Princess wouldn’t sleep with another man. She’s mine. And she knows that.”
A shiver ran down her spine. She swallowed. “I’m not yours, Paul.”
He frowned and swiped his finger down the side of her face. “Yes, you are. Perhaps you’ve forgotten. Perhaps I need to remind you.”
She shook her head, fear beginning to take its stif
ling hold of every part of her. “No…”
He smiled as if she hadn’t spoken. “Do you remember when we first met?” His hand barely touched her face, so gentle was his touch. “You were so sweet and innocent. I loved that. You opened up like a flower for me. And I thought, she’s special. And I need to look after her in a special way, need to wrap her in cotton wool so nothing can hurt her.” She closed her eyes against the soft but deadly touch of his hand. “Don’t tell me you thought differently because I know you didn’t.”
“Not then.”
“And not now.” He walked around her, a full circle before facing her once more. “These reports… They’re not true, are they? Tell me…”
She shook her head, unable to utter a word, frozen by fear.
In those moments of unspoken communication, she saw his expression change from tenderness to anger. He lifted his hand to her neck, as if to caress it but, instead, ripped her jacket open. The buttons fell off and spun, rolling along the wooden floor. Her first instinct was to slip her hands in front of her stomach. But it was too late. Slowly, she forced herself to stand with her hands at each side, her rounded stomach in full evidence. His ice-blue eyes sparked with fire. What the hell was he going to do?
“For Christ’s sake, Callum, go after her.” Dallas could barely keep his short temper in check. “It’s your wedding day and you screwed up.”
Callum paced away from his two brothers, unable to look into their faces, full of accusation.
“Just do it,” James added. “You’ve always been pig-headed and stubborn, but this is ridiculous.”
“Why the hell should I? If she lied about owning Blackrock, what else did she lie about? How can I ever trust her again?”
“What the hell does one lie matter?”
“It matters to me. Without Blackrock, the estate will never be whole again. For years it’s what I’ve wanted. It’s what our grandfather tried to achieve, without success. And it’s what I want.”
“Why, for God’s sake?”
Callum turned to Dallas. “It’s all good for you, isn’t it? The golden boy who earned the cash to keep everything together after Dad stuffed up.”
“Not all good, Callum, believe me. I had responsibilities and—”
“And so do I. You did what you had to do for the family, for us, and that’s what I want, too.”
“Now, if we could just talk about my expertise for a moment,” James interrupted. “Women. You wanted Gemma. You didn’t marry her for the land.”
Callum shrugged. “Maybe not.”
“You love her,” said Dallas. “It shows in everything you do. You love her and you’re about to throw away a lifetime’s happiness because of a lie over a piece of land?”
Callum didn’t turn back to face them, but squeezed his eyes tight shut as the truth hit him. “Do you think she’ll come back?”
“I think a lot of groveling is in order.”
Callum shook his head and opened his eyes. “No. She’ll be back. She’ll realize how stupidly stubborn she’s being. I’ll wait for her to come.”
Both James and Dallas groaned and shook their heads. Callum ignored them, poured himself a whisky and made himself comfortable on the leather sofa. He’d wait. She’d come.
When Paul’s gaze lifted from her stomach there was hate in his eyes. The old Paul had gone. He ground his teeth.
“Did he force himself on you?”
She bit her lip. She was scared of him, of what he could do, but not to her. He’d never been violent with her. But now? “No, he didn’t, Paul. He didn’t. It wasn’t like that.”
He blew out a deep breath. “You never lied to me in the past. What are you hiding now?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
He shook his head and paced across the room. “So this Callum Mackenzie. Local hot shot is he?”
Should she make Callum less than he was to stop Paul’s jealousy? But one look at Paul made her realize it was too late. And, if he knew how powerful the Mackenzies were, it might make him think twice. “Yes, he is. His family owns much of the land and wealth around here.” She paused. “They have wide networks.”
He pushed himself off the wall and approached her. “All sounds very proper to me. And ‘very proper’ doesn’t worry me. There are much more effective ways of doing business. So, tell me about him.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Why is he at Glencoe and you, here?”
“I’m… just here to pick up some stuff.”
“So, the pregnant bit of the rumor wasn’t wrong. What about the wedding part? They told me there was a big Mackenzie wedding at Glencoe. They told me it was your wedding. Again, I dismissed it, I didn’t believe them. I want to hear it from you. Tell me, Gemma, whose wedding was it?”
“Mine.” The word was barely more than a pressing together of her lips.
He shook his head, his lips curling with distaste. His face was flushed with anger as he paced the room, looking anywhere but at her. Suddenly he strode up to the wall and punched it hard. His fist went right through the flimsy wall, revealing the wooden battens behind. He turned back to her as if nothing had happened and strode over to her, his face, dipped to one side, staring her straight in the eye.
“Was it marriage you wanted? You should have told me. We could have married.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. Fear had her gripped in its icy control.
“So you only married him for the baby. How touching, how traditional. But you’re here now.” He brushed a strand of her hair off her cheek. “You must have realized you’d made a mistake.”
She shook her head again.
“Then why are you both in separate places? This Mackenzie man in Glencoe and you, here. Strange on your wedding day.” She didn’t answer. “Did he hurt you, Gemma?”
She shook her head, suddenly realizing where the conversation was leading. “No.”
“He did, didn’t he?”
Terror seized her. It wasn’t just about her anymore. It was about what Paul and his men might do to Callum. She had to get him far away from here.
“I’ll pack my bag, Paul, I’ll come with you.”
“No. We’re not going anywhere before I teach Callum Mackenzie a lesson.” He glanced at his watch. “Best he come to us. Ring him. Tell him to come. I’ll get the truth from him.”
She shook her head. No way in this world was she bringing Callum here. Paul would kill him. There’d been enough rumors, enough newspaper headlines, to make her realize exactly how deep his underground criminal network went in London. And the extent of the violence.
He pulled out his phone. “Second thoughts, he’ll know what awaits him if you phone. I always like an element of surprise.” She shivered. “I’m told Glencoe isn’t so far away from here. Not so far away that he won’t see smoke rising. I’ll light a fire.” He grinned, a cold, travesty of a smile. “I was always good at lighting fires.”
“We have no wood.”
“Oh, I think we do.” He looked pointedly at the wood paneling and at the timber construction his fist had exposed. She closed her eyes. Not the house. “He should be able to see the smoke from where he is. We’ll smoke him out, like a rat.”
“Is that smoke?” Callum rose from his chair and pushed open the window, narrowed his eyes, trying to distinguish the shifting dark clouds from the darker plume that was drifting upwards.
Dallas and James came up behind him.
“Looks like it,” Dallas replied, peering into the distance. “What the hell?”
“Fire.” James said. “At Blackrock. Looks like Gemma’s in trouble.”
Callum picked up a cell phone and tossed it to Dallas as all three of them ran out into the night.
“Call emergency services. They won’t get there for half an hour. We’re Gemma’s only chance.”
As the Range Rover roared off into the night, the smoke became clearer as it billowed up, a stain of dark grey on the in
digo sky. Fear gripped Callum, steely and visceral, but he focused on driving over the rough ground that provided a shortcut to Blackrock. The car lurched forward as it flew over boulders and skidded, wheels spinning and screeching, on the dusty ground. As he topped a ridge he saw what he knew in his heart already. Flames were licking out of the rear bedroom window, it would be an inferno in minutes only. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and they roared down the hill towards the burning building.
He leaped out of the car and his blood turned to ice as he heard a scream.
“You take the front,” He yelled to Dallas and James as he tore round the back of the house to where the scream had come from—Gemma’s bedroom. The heat and smoke hit him like a wall and he came to an abrupt halt. The house was completely made of wood and would be history in minutes. He backtracked and launched himself into the French window that Gemma had cracked as she’d left the house all those weeks ago. Glass and wood splintered and smoke rushed to meet the air. Coughing, he covered his face with his arm and looked quickly around. Her bedroom was ablaze and there was nothing to see, except the billowing black, acrid smoke that made his eyes stream and seeped into his lungs. Then he heard another scream, this time from outside.
As soon as he leaped back through the window he’d smashed, flames engulfed the house. He ran around the front in time to see a tall man he’d never seen before, his back to him and his arm tightly around Gemma, too tight around her stomach. Blind fury gripped Callum as he came up behind the stranger. He grabbed both arms and twisted them behind him, releasing Gemma, who James promptly grabbed and pulled to one side. Callum now had a clear shot at the off-balance stranger and delivered a right hook straight to his chin. The stranger reeled back and landed on the dusty ground.
Callum stood, panting over him, waiting for him to move, wanting him to move so he could vent the uncontrollable rage that pounded through every vein. But the man barely shook his head, tried to sit up and then dropped his head again. The white light that had invaded Callum’s brain slowly receded. The man was obviously concussed and Callum looked away, searching for Gemma.