Ensnared: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  Across from Michael, Gabriel placed the phone down and sat at his desk. “Did you get your questions answered?”

  Michael sighed. “You know I didn’t.” He frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you really quit private practice to take on Lily’s case against my brother?”

  “No. Why would you think that?”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just that Lily has a way of making stuff happen, inspiring men to do…I don’t know…crazy things.”

  Gabriel laughed, the sound low and amused. “My wife, Valeria, is similarly talented. To answer your question, no, I didn’t do this for Lily. I was glad that my first case as DA was against Raphael Falconer in part because I had represented Lily in her divorce, but my career decision had to do with my wife and me, and our choices as a family.” He glanced at a framed photograph of an attractive, dark-haired woman flanked by two laughing children—an older boy and a younger girl. “That’s Val, Diego, and Marlena.”

  For a moment, Michael wondered why Gabriel would voluntarily share that information. It didn’t seem to match up with the image of the cool and calculating district attorney Michael had constructed in his mind.

  “Children tend to complicate decisions,” Gabriel continued as he traced the edge of the silver photo frame. “What’s best for them isn’t always what’s best for the adults in the situation.”

  Michael’s eyes narrowed. He was certain Gabriel wasn’t referring to his two children, Diego and Marlena.

  Miki. Gabriel was obviously trying to tell him something about Miki. But what? What decision had Lily made with regard to Miki?

  The sun had set by the time Michael made the five-hour trip from New York City back to Portsmouth. It had given him a great deal of time to mull over the little he had learned from Elizabeth Herald and Gabriel Cruz.

  It was obvious, wasn’t it?

  Lily had left Raphael because of something he had done to Miki. But what? It had to be something truly horrible, Michael concluded—Lily would not have left for any other reason—but what was it?

  Physical abuse?

  Sexual abuse?

  A chill shuddered through Michael. His brother? Surely it wasn’t possible.

  His hands tightened against the steering wheel as he swung the car into the driveway of the Herald summer vacation home. The lights were on in the house. He cut the engine and stared at Lily’s home.

  What was he supposed to say?

  “I want to know what Raphael did to you and Miki.”

  No, it would get her back up, a guaranteed way of not getting answers. Lily had a stubborn streak the breadth of the United States. She would not have dated Michael for six years, through a long-distance relationship in spite of her parents’ cool disapproval, if she hadn’t been more stubborn than her tycoon parents who had ice water for blood.

  “You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can trust me. Tell me what happened, please.”

  No, it wouldn’t work either. Not his usual style. Lily would be immediately suspicious, or worse, think that he was mocking her.

  Michael gritted his teeth. Nothing sounded right.

  The front door of the house opened, and Nancy walked out. Deep lines of worry furrowed her brow. She seemed hesitant as she peered at the car.

  Michael lowered the window.

  She relaxed with a sigh. “Oh, it’s you.” She did not look any happier, though. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see Lily.”

  Nancy scowled. “If you’re here to yell at her for yelling at your girlfriend, you should know that Anna had it coming.”

  Michael stiffened. “Anna? What happened?”

  Nancy stared at him. “You hadn’t heard, then.”

  “Heard what?” Michael waved Nancy away from his car so that he could open the car door and step out. “I was in New York for the day. I just got back.”

  “Miki wanted cupcakes, so Lily and I took her to the Wave Café. Anna wasn’t there, but Katie was running the store. There weren’t many other people there, and when Katie waved Lily over to a private booth for a conversation, Lily went to talk to her.”

  “About what?”

  Nancy gave him a narrow-eyed look. “I don’t know, Michael. Some people think it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

  Damn right it was rude, but with Lily, “rude” seemed to be the only option left to him since she was obviously determined not to tell him anything that mattered. “So, what happened with Katie?”

  “Nothing, until Anna came in and saw Lily and Katie sitting together, talking. Katie was crying.”

  “What?”

  Nancy glowered at Michael. “It couldn’t have been anything Lily said. I couldn’t hear anything from where I was seated with Miki, but Katie did most of the talking.” Her flash of indignation faded as she sighed. “Anna, of course…”

  “Anna leaped to Katie’s defense.” Whatever Anna’s faults, she was ferociously loyal to and protective of her younger sister, whom she had practically raised after their parents passed away. “How bad was it?” Michael asked.

  “Rehashed old ground—how Lily broke Raphael and Katie’s relationship—and struck new ground.”

  “What do you mean?” Michael asked.

  “Anna flat out told Lily she deserved to be shot, and that it was a pity Raphael didn’t kill her.”

  Michael’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “She was angry. Still—” Nancy said. “It set Lily off.”

  “And?”

  “Lily called the man who owns the Wave Café premises and paid him an abominably large price for it.”

  “She what?”

  “She made the call from the café, in front of Anna. Lily owns the building now, and Anna’s lease is up in two months.”

  “Lily threatened to not renew the lease?”

  “She didn’t have to. You could see it in her eyes. They get cold and hard when she’s been pushed too far. In the café, they were like dry ice.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Molly Marshall was in the café when all this went down.”

  Which meant all of Portsmouth knew about the big showdown between Anna and Lily. Michael grimaced. “Is Lily in the house?”

  “Yes. She’s packing up.”

  “What?”

  “She’s going back to Cambridge tomorrow.”

  “No, no, she can’t.”

  “She says it was a mistake to come back to Portsmouth, and I agree with her.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Michael strode past Nancy and through the open door of the house. He took the curved stairs two at a time to Lily’s former bedroom on the second floor. The door was open. He stepped into the room; his gaze fixed on the king-sized bed and the deep blue, gold-trimmed quilt that covered it. He and Lily had once curled together beneath those covers—

  “Why are you here?” Lily’s cool voice came from behind him. “What do you want?”

  Michael turned and saw her standing at the entrance of the master bedroom.

  She quietly closed the door behind her. “I finally got Miki to sleep, so keep your voice down.”

  “I heard about what happened at the café.”

  A crooked smile twisted her lips. “If you’re here to talk to me about renewing your girlfriend’s lease, don’t worry. It’ll renew.”

  Michael’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like the chill that glittered like ice shards in her voice.

  “At market rates.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Good old Mr. Barr has been undercharging the rent. It’s prime location, after all, right at the corner of Market and 13th. Your girlfriend’s rent is about to jump forty percent.”

  “Lily, you can’t do that.”

  “Don’t start with me, Michael. I’m tired of people telling me what I can or can’t do.”

  “This isn’t you.”

  “And how would you know? We ha
ven’t really seen or spoken to each other in three years.”

  He held up his hands. “I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurting. And I know that Anna, very rudely and clumsily, kicked right where it hurt the most.”

  “Clumsy?” Lily hissed. “There was nothing clumsy about what she did. It was deliberate. It was cruel.”

  “Yes, it was.” Michael strode forward and pulled Lily into his arms. She tried to shove him away, but he did not let go; he could not—not when he could feel her chest hitching on silent sobs. The motions made his chest tighten with unspoken emotion. He pressed his cheek to her hair. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with their shared pain.

  His words washed the fight out of her.

  She sagged against him, her shoulders heaving as tears spilled.

  He held the girl he had once loved, the woman he still, stupidly, loved. The tears she cried couldn’t ease his own anger and hurt, but at that moment, it was enough that they were together, if only for a while.

  When her tears passed, she tried to pull away, but Michael sank down on the plush carpet in the hallway, and tugged her down beside him. She tried to yank her hand out of his, but he refused to let her go. “I won’t let you go back to Cambridge until you do what you came to do.”

  She tensed. “And what is that, exactly?”

  “To introduce Miki to my parents.”

  “Oh.”

  The little sound pricked a warning. That was not the reason why she had returned to Portsmouth. He would have to dig deeper without bringing up her guard. “Come over to my parents’ place for dinner tomorrow night.”

  “We’re returning to Cambridge tomorrow morning.”

  Panic dug its cold claws next to his heart. “You’re running away? The Lily I knew—”

  “I’m not the Lily you knew.” She yanked her hand out of his and shot to her feet. “Stop acting like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

  He stood up. “I’m not the one acting like everything’s okay,” he said quietly. “You came back to town, apparently as carefree as the day you left it, except that I know you’re not. You don’t have to lie to me.”

  “Why stop now?” Her lips twisted into a cynical half-smile.

  “Lily—”

  She flipped her wrist at him dismissively.

  He caught her hand and gripped it hard. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, but she did not react with fear.

  Michael frowned. The possibility of physical violence didn’t faze her, but she retreated from signs of affection. How the hell was he supposed to make sense of her reactions?

  He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, as blue as a clear summer day. As he lowered his head to hers, he told himself it was just a test. All he wanted to do was push her limits, but the moment her lips parted involuntarily, he knew he had lost.

  The kiss was everything he had remembered—the teasing hint of strawberries and cream on her lips; her perfume filling his lungs with the whiff of cherry blossoms and the promise of spring; her body melting against him in sweet surrender. Her soft moan shuddered through their shared breath.

  Oh, God. He had missed her so much. His grip tightened against her back. His other hand tangled in her hair.

  Lily stiffened against him.

  His eyes flashed open to see her staring at him. “Lily?”

  She shoved the palms of her hands against his chest and wrenched herself out of his embrace. She stalked down the corridor to stand by the window overlooking the backyard. With her arms wrapped over her stomach and her shoulders subtly hunched, her body language screamed, “Hands off.”

  He stared at her back. Teeth gritted, he raked his fingers through his hair. “Lily—”

  “Please go.”

  “I’m not leaving until you promise to bring Miki to dinner at my parents’ place tomorrow night.”

  She shot him a scathing glance over her shoulder. “You can’t dictate to me, Michael.”

  “It’s an invitation, Lily, not an order.” He searched her face and delivered his next words with care. “Whatever you think of me, I’m not my brother.”

  Her eyes widened with remembered terror.

  Anger sucked the air out of his lungs. What in God’s name had Raphael done to her?

  Lily drew in a deep breath. Something seemed to pass over her face, and she squared her shoulders. The Lily who turned around to fully face Michael was once again cool and perfectly in control. “I’ll consider it.”

  “Come by at five thirty; we’ll have an early dinner so it doesn’t run into Miki’s bedtime.” He walked down the stairs and glanced at Nancy who stood in the foyer. “I’ve invited Lily and Miki over to my parents’ place for dinner tomorrow night.”

  “So I heard.”

  “You’re welcome too.” He lowered his voice. “And if she tries to leave Portsmouth, will you call me? Give me a chance to talk her out of it?”

  “I heard that, Michael,” Lily’s voice cut in, sharper than a blade. She appeared at the top of the stairs and glared at him. “I’ll thank you not to subvert my employees.”

  Nancy chuckled with a warm sparkle in her eyes Michael hadn’t noticed before. She nodded her head at the door. “Go on. Off with you.”

  Lily waited until she heard Michael’s car drive away. Only then did she slump to her knees. She stared at her hands, which trembled even though she firmly clasped them in an attitude of prayer.

  She only had to close her eyes to recall the sensation of his lips upon hers.

  His kiss had been infused with all the tenderness and love she’d almost forgotten—the kind of love that made a woman feel cherished and adored, even treasured.

  Whatever you think of me, I am not my brother.

  Did Michael have any idea how much those simple words did to anchor her in the present, where she needed to be, instead of trapped by memories?

  Raphael was gone, but unless she found a way to heal in spite of what he had done to her, she would be just another Katie Ludlow, still emotionally ravaged from what Raphael had done to her.

  Lily squared her jaw. It won’t be me.

  For the first time since she had returned to Portsmouth, she saw a way forward through the tangled mess of her life. A smile inched across her face. Perhaps she should not have been surprised to find Michael wading through her emotional swamp toward her, not at all deterred by what another man might have considered a woman’s crazy, insolvable problems.

  With him, she had always felt safe.

  The way he had kissed her—she could almost imagine there was love still between them. But how could it be? Her feelings for him had not changed in the time they had spent apart, but—whatever her rationale—she had broken his heart.

  How could there possibly be a second chance for the both of them?

  Chapter 7

  “She’s not coming,” Connie Falconer said for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her fingers twitched against the curtains as she tugged them back to peer out on the empty driveway.

  Michael sighed. “Relax, Mom. It’s not even five thirty.” He took a tray out of the oven and set it on the table. “Your lasagna smells great, by the way.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe we let you talk us into this dinner.”

  “Mom, Miki’s your granddaughter. Your only grandchild. Nothing changes that, not even the fact that Lily and Raphael are divorced.” A smile eased across his face. “You’re going to love Miki. She’s bright and warm, with a personality as big as the sun.”

  “But Lily—”

  Michael ground his teeth. “I know you’re convinced—Dad, too—that Raphael wasn’t to blame for their marriage falling apart. I know you think Raphael has some kind of moral ground to stand on for shooting Lily, but I’m telling you, he doesn’t.”

  Connie glared at him. “If you know something more than we do, tell us!”

  “I don’t.” He shook his head. Frustration clogged his throat. “All I hav
e are impressions. Just a gut feeling from watching Lily—”

  She snorted dismissively.

  “Her marriage to Raphael changed her, in every way for the worse,” Michael said quietly. “Do you know what it’s like for me to look at her—to look at the woman I loved for six years—and realize that I hardly recognize her? To know that I had something beautiful and priceless, and my brother destroyed it?”

  Connie’s mouth dropped open. “Michael. You…”

  “Raphael’s my brother. I don’t hate him.” He shook his head. Not yet anyway. He didn’t know enough, heck, he didn’t know anything. “I just know we need to give Lily a chance to explain.”

  “She hasn’t said anything to anyone.”

  “Silence doesn’t equal guilt. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” Michael said. “I gave her up without a fight once. I’m not doing it again.”

  His mother’s mouth twisted into a pained half-smile. Michael frowned; he thought he glimpsed a hint of aching pride on her face, but he couldn’t understand why. Connie glanced over her shoulder. Her expression transformed into one of weary resignation. “All that effort for a no-show—” She suddenly straightened as a Mercedes pulled up next to the curb in front of the house. “Lily’s here. Go tell your dad. Oh—” She clasped her hands to her chest as Lily extracted Miki from the car seat and set the little girl down on the pavement. “She’s beautiful. Little Miki…” Connie blinked hard and sniffed loudly. “She’s so big now.”

  “And an amazing swimmer,” Michael added. He walked down the hallway and looked into his parents’ bedroom. “Dad, Lily and Miki are here.”

  Jason nodded but made no move to stand up.

  “Dad?” Michael leaned against the doorframe. “Are you all right?”

  Jason sighed heavily. “I was just thinking about Raphael.” His eyes were bleak. “If he hadn’t screwed up, he would be here too.”

  Screwed up, Michael thought, was an incredibly mild phrase to describe what Raphael had done on public record and off public record. “Raphael should have brought Lily back to visit us.”