Eight Classic Nora Roberts Romantic Suspense Novels

by Nora Roberts

  Ed took the bottle, then lifted both brows. “What’s the occasion? You usually bring over a six-pack of Moosehead or sponge off me.”

  “That’s gratitude for you, especially now when we’re making you a godfather.” Ben took Tess’s hand and held it in both of his. “In seven months, one week, and three days. More or less.”

  “A baby? You guys are having a baby?” Ed swung an arm around Ben and squeezed. “Nice going, partner.” He took Tess’s free hand almost as if he were going to monitor her pulse. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Ben nearly collapsed, but I’m fine.”

  “I didn’t nearly collapse. Maybe I babbled for a couple of minutes, but I didn’t collapse. I’ll get glasses. Make sure she stays sitting down, will you?” he said to Ed.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” Grace took the wine from Ed and followed Ben to the kitchen. “You must be on top of the world.”

  “I don’t think I’ve taken it in yet. A family.” He started to rummage through cupboards while Grace found a corkscrew. “I never thought about having a family. Then all of a sudden there was Tess. Everything changed.”

  Grace stared at the bottle as she began to draw out the cork. “It’s funny how family can keep everything focused.”

  “Yeah.” After setting out glasses, Ben laid a hand on her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

  “Better, most of the time better. The hardest thing is believing she’s gone and that I won’t ever see her again.”

  “I know how you feel. I do,” he said when he felt her instant withdrawal. “I lost my brother.”

  After drawing the cork out, she made herself look at him. There was kindness there too, in the eyes. He was more intense than Ed, more restless and wired, but the kindness was there. “How did you handle it?”

  “Badly. He had everything going for him, and I was crazy about him. We didn’t see eye to eye on everything, but we were tight. He got shipped to Nam right out of high school.”

  “I’m sorry. It must be horrible to lose someone you love in a war.”

  “He didn’t die in Nam, only the best parts of him did.” Ben picked up the bottle and began to pour. It was funny; even after all the years, he remembered too well. “He came back a different person, withdrawn, bitter, lost. He turned to drugs to wipe it out, fog it up, but it didn’t help.” He saw she was thinking of her sister, and the bottles that had been stashed throughout the house. “It’s tough not to blame them for choosing an easy way.”

  “Yes, yes, it is. What happened to him?”

  “In the end, he couldn’t take it anymore. So he opted out.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” The tears started again, the ones she’d been able to hold off for days. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “No.” He understood that as well. “But sometimes it’s better after you do.”

  “Everyone says they understand, but they don’t.” When he put his arms around her, she held on. “You don’t know what it is to lose a part of yourself until it happens. There’s nothing you can do to prepare for it, you know? And nothing you can do afterward, after you’ve handled all the details. That’s the worst part, not being able to do anything. How long—how long did it take you to put it behind you?”

  “I’ll let you know when it happens.”

  She nodded, letting her head rest against his shoulder for another minute. “All you can do is go on?”

  “That’s right. After a while you don’t think about it every day. Then something happens in your life like Tess did to mine. You can go on. You don’t forget, but you can go on.”

  She drew back to wipe the tears from her cheeks with both hands. “Thanks.”

  “You going to be okay?”

  “Sooner or later.” She sniffled once, then managed a smile. “Sooner, I think. Let’s take this back in. We’re going to celebrate life tonight.”

  Chapter 11

  Mary Beth Morrison hunched over her monthly budget and listened to her two oldest squabble over a board game. The natives were restless, she thought, and tried to figure out where she’d overextended in the grocery department.

  “Jonas, if you’re going to get that upset when Lori takes over your country, you shouldn’t play the game.”

  “She cheats,” Jonas complained. “She always cheats.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do too.”

  If Mary Beth hadn’t been trying to find how to cut back an extra hundred a month, she might have let the argument run its course. “Maybe you’d be better off if you put the game away and went to your rooms.” The mild comment had the desired effect. Both children calmed down enough to make their accusations in whispers.

  The baby of the family, Prissy Pat as the other children liked to call her, wandered over to demand that her mother fix the bow in her hair. At five, Patricia was all girl. Mary Beth set aside her accounts long enough to fuss with the lace ribbon. Her six-year-old son was doing his best to instigate another battle between his older brother and sister as they vied to take over the world. After a time, both Jonas and Lori turned on him. The television blared and the newest kitten was busy hissing at Binky, their middle-aged cocker spaniel. All in all, it was a typical Friday night at the Morrisons’.

  “I think I fixed the Chevy. Needed timing, that’s all.” Harry came into the family room wiping his hands on a dish towel. Mary Beth thought briefly of how often she’d told him not to spread the kitchen linens around the house, then lifted her face for his kiss. The scent of the aftershave she’d given him for his birthday lingered on his cheeks.

  “My hero. I hated the idea of breaking down on the way to the bake sale on Sunday.”

  “It’s humming right along now. Pipe down, Jonas.” Without breaking rhythm, he lifted Pat into his arms for a snuggle. “Why don’t we take her for a test drive?”

  Mary Beth pushed back from the desk. It was tempting, just the idea of getting out of the house for an hour, maybe stopping off for ice cream or indulging the kids in a round of miniature golf. Then she looked back down at her accounts.

  “I’ve got to get this straightened out so I can make a deposit in the automatic teller tomorrow morning.”

  “You look tired.” Harry planted a kiss on Pat’s cheek, then set her down again.

  “Just a little.”

  He eyed the bills and numbers. “I could give you a hand.”

  Mary Beth tallied figures without looking up. “Thanks, but the last time you helped me, it took me six months to get us back on track.”

  “Insults.” He ruffled her hair. “I’d take offense if it wasn’t true. Jonas, you’re pressing your luck.”

  “He takes his games too seriously,” Mary Beth murmured. “Just like his father.”

  “Games are serious.” He bent down again to whisper in her ear. “Wanna play?”

  She laughed. This was a man she’d known for over twenty years, and he still made her pulse flutter. “At this rate I should be done by midnight.”

  “Would it help if I cleared the kids out for a while?”

  She smiled up at him. “You read my mind. If I had an hour of uninterrupted silence, I might figure out how to squeeze out the money for those new tires.”

  “Say no more.” He leaned over and kissed her. From his position on the floor, Jonas rolled his eyes. His parents were always kissing each other. “Do yourself a favor and take those contacts out. You’ve had them in too long again.”

  “You’re probably right. Thanks, Harry, you may be saving my sanity.”

  “I like you crazy.” He kissed her again, then held up his hands. “Anyone in the mood for a drive and hot fudge sundaes meet in the garage in two minutes.”

  The scrambling started instantly. Game pieces scattered, shoes were hunted up. Binky went off on a tangent of barking until the kitten chased him out of the room. Mary Beth unearthed Pat’s little pink sweater with the rhinestones and reminded Jonas to comb his hair. He didn’t, but it was the thought that counte
d.

  Inside of ten minutes, the house was empty. Hugging the silence to her for a moment, Mary Beth sat at the desk again. There would be a family cleanup the next day, but right now she wasn’t even going to look at the mess the kids had left behind.

  She had everything she wanted: a loving husband, kids that made her laugh, a house filled with character, and, hopefully, a Chevy that didn’t misfire. Bending back over her account book, she began to work.

  Half an hour later, she remembered Harry’s advice about her contacts. They had been her one true personal indulgence. She hated glasses, had hated them since she’d put on her first pair at the age of eight. She’d been wearing Coke-bottle lenses by high school and had embarrassed herself time after time by walking blindly down the halls because she refused to put her glasses on. Always one to know what she wanted and how to get it, she’d taken a summer job in her junior year and spent every dime on contact lenses. Since that moment, she’d gotten into the habit of popping them in almost from her first waking moment and leaving them in place until she climbed into bed.

  Because reading or bookwork made her eyes ache after a few hours, she often took them out, then with her nose against the page finished the job. With a little grumble of complaint, she got up and went upstairs to take them out for the night.

  As in all things, Mary Beth was conscientious. She cleaned her lenses, put them in new solution, and left them to soak. Because Pat liked to poke in the vanity drawers for lipstick, Mary Beth put the case on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. Leaning close to the bathroom mirror, she considered touching up her makeup. She and Harry hadn’t managed to find time to make love in days. But tonight, if they could tuck all the kids into bed …

  With a smile, Mary Beth reached for her lipstick. When the dog began to bark, she ignored him. If he had to go out, he’d just have to hold his bladder a minute.

  Jerald pushed open the door that led from the garage to the kitchen. He hadn’t felt this good in days. It was this edgy, one-foot-over-the-cliff feeling that really made life worthwhile. He should have realized it before. It was like being a demigod, one of the Greek myths with an immortal father and mortal mother. Heroic, ruthless, and blessed. That’s really what he was. His father was so powerful, so all-seeing, so untouchable. His mother was beautiful … and flawed. That’s why, as their son, he could feel such power and know such fear. The combination was incredible. And because of all that he could feel such pity and such disdain for ordinary mortals. They walked blindly through life, never realizing how closely they marched with death, or how easily he could quicken death’s pace.

  He was becoming more like his father every day, Jerald thought. More all-seeing, more all-knowing. Soon he wouldn’t need the computer to show him the way. He would simply know.

  Wetting his lips, he peered through the crack of the door. He hadn’t counted on a dog. He could see it, backed into a corner of the kitchen and snarling. He’d have to kill it of course. His teeth gleamed in the darkness a minute as he considered it. He thought it was a pity he wouldn’t be able to take his time about it, to experiment. He opened the door a bit wider and started to step out when he heard her.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Binky, that’s enough. You’ll have Mr. Carlyse complaining again.” Moving by memory more than sight, Mary Beth walked to the back door without bothering with the lights. “Come on, out you go.”

  From his corner, Binky continued to watch the garage door and snarl.

  “Look, I don’t have time for this. I want to finish things up.” She walked over and took the dog by the collar. “Out, Binky. I can’t believe you’re worked up over a silly kitten. You’ll get used to her.” She pulled the dog to the door and gave him a none-too-gentle shove. The indulgent laugh caught in her throat when she turned.

  She was everything Jerald had known she would be. Soft, warm, understanding. She’d been waiting for him, of course. She’d even put the dog outside so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She was so pretty with her big frightened eyes and her high rounded breasts. She smelled like honeysuckle. He remembered how she talked of making long, slow love in a meadow. As he looked at her, he could almost see the clover.

  He wanted to hold her, to let her do all the sweet, gentle things she’d promised. Then he wanted to give her the best. The ultimate.

  “What do you want?” She could see little more than a shadow, but it was enough to have her heart pounding in her throat.

  “Everything you promised, Mary Beth.”

  “I don’t know you.” Stay calm, she ordered herself. If he’d come to rob the house, he could take whatever he wanted. She’d personally hand over her grandmother’s crystal goblets. Thank God the children weren’t home. Thank God they were safe. The Feldspars had been robbed last year, and it had taken months to straighten out the insurance. How long had Harry been gone? Her thoughts tumbled one into the next as she tried to hold on.

  “Yes, you do. You’ve talked to me, really only to me all these nights. You always understood. Now we can finally be together.” He was walking toward her. She backed up until her hips hit the counter. “I’m going to give you more than you can imagine. I know how.”

  “My husband’s coming right back.”

  He just continued to smile, his eyes blank, his lips curved. “I want you to undress me the way you promised.” He gathered her hair in his hand. Not to hurt her, just to be firm. Women liked men to be firm, especially delicate women with gentle voices. “Now, Mary Beth. Take your clothes off, slowly. Then I want you to touch me, everywhere. Do all those sweet things to me, Mary Beth. All those sweet, gentle things you promised.”

  He was just a child. Wasn’t he? She tried to focus on his face, but the room was dark and her vision fuzzy. “I can’t. You don’t want to do this. Just go and I’ll—” The words were cut off as he jerked her hair. She cringed back as his free hand covered her throat.

  “You want to be persuaded. That’s all right.” He talked quietly, but his excitement was building, spreading, banding tight around his heart, pushing hard into his lungs. “Desiree wanted to be persuaded too. I didn’t mind. I loved her. She was perfect. I think you are too, but I need to be sure. I’ll undress you. I’ll touch you.” When he moved his hand from her throat to her breast she drew in her breath to scream. “Don’t.” His fingers dug in cruelly. His voice changed again. There was a whine in it now that was much more frightening than when he gave orders. “I don’t want you to scream. That’s not what I want and I’ll hurt you if you do. I liked hearing Roxanne scream, but not you. She was a slut, do you understand?”

  “Yes.” She would have told him anything he wanted to hear. “Yes, I understand.”

  “But you’re not a slut. You and Desiree are different. I could tell the minute I heard you.” He was calming again, calming, though he was hard as a rock and wanted to be free of his jeans. “Now, I want you to talk to me while I do this. Talk to me, like you did before.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Bile rose up as he pressed against her. God, he couldn’t be doing this. It couldn’t be happening. She wanted Harry. She wanted her babies. She wanted it to be over. “I don’t know you. You’re making a mistake.”

  He brought his hand between her legs. He enjoyed the way she jerked and whimpered. She was ready for him all right, sweet and ready. “It’s going to be different this time. This time, we won’t hurry. I want you to show me things, do things, then when I’m finished it’ll be even better than the others. Touch me, Mary Beth. The others didn’t touch me.”

  She was crying now and hating herself for it. This was her house, her home, and she wouldn’t be violated this way. She made herself reach for him, and waited until she heard him groan. Going with desperation, she rammed her elbow into his stomach and ran. He caught her hair with a vicious jerk as her hand closed over the doorknob. The moment he did, she knew he was going to kill her.

  “You lied. You’re a liar and a whore just like the others. So I’ll treat you like th
e others.” Near tears himself, he brought the back of his hand hard against her face. Her lip split. It was the taste of her own blood that galvanized her.

  She was not going to die like this, in her own kitchen. She was not going to leave her husband and children alone. Screaming, she clawed at his face and when he yelped, managed to yank open the door. She’d intended to run for her life, but Binky wanted to be a hero.

  The small dog had sharp teeth. He used them viciously on Jerald’s calf. Howling with rage, he managed to kick the dog aside, only to turn and find himself faced with the business end of a butcher knife.

  “Get out of my house.” Mary Beth held the handle with both hands. She was too dazed to be surprised that she had every intention of using it if he took another step toward her.

  Binky managed to get to his feet. As soon as he’d shaken his head clear, he began to growl again.

  “Bitch,” Jerald hissed at her as he edged toward the door. None of them had ever hurt him before. His face was aching, and his leg—he could feel the warm, wet blood seep through his jeans. He’d make her pay. He’d make all of them pay. “Lying whores, all of you. I only wanted to give you what you wanted. I was going to be good to you.” There was a whine in his voice again that made her shudder. He sounded like a small, evil boy who’d broken his favorite toy. “I was going to give you the best. Next time you’re all going to suffer.”

  When Harry brought the kids home twenty minutes later, Mary Beth was sitting at the kitchen table, still holding the butcher knife and watching the back door.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Wine all around, except for the expectant mother.” Grace passed out glasses as Ben poured. “You get some kind of juice, Tess. God knows what it is, you can never tell with Ed.”

  “Papaya,” Ed muttered as Tess sniffed dubiously at her glass.

  “A toast then.” Grace lifted her glass in salute. “To new beginnings and continuity.”