A Man of Secrets

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A Man of Secrets Page 17

by Amanda Stevens


  Natalie shook her head. “It wasn’t. I swear—”

  “I know that now,” Spence said grimly. “But back then, even knowing what Anthony was capable of, I thought the proof was pretty damning. You were married to him, after all, and I’d only been gone a short while.”

  Although nothing should have surprised her by now, Natalie stood speechless, reeling from his words as if each one of them had been a physical blow. “That’s why you looked at me with such contempt that day. Such hatred. I might have come to you, too, told you…everything, if it hadn’t been for that look in your eyes. I’ve never forgotten it.”

  Without Anthony’s lies coloring her perception, Natalie suddenly had a clear vision of what Spence’s homecoming must have been like for him. For the first time in his life, he thought he had someone waiting for him who loved him—and then to find out that she had married his brother behind his back…

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for everything you had to go through.”

  He stared down at her, his features stark in the moonlight. “Anthony lied to us, Natalie. He tricked us both. He deliberately set out to keep us apart.”

  “Because we let him,” she said sadly. “Because we didn’t trust each other enough.”

  “Maybe. But we hadn’t known each other that long, and it’s hard to trust when someone like Anthony is feeding on your insecurities. He won. He got what he wanted. He broke us apart and kept us that way for seven long years.” He paused, his hand reaching out to whisper against her hair. “The question now is, are we going to let him keep winning?”

  Natalie’s heart stopped at the look in his eyes. She shivered as he drew the back of his hand down her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed. Oh, how she relished his touch! Craved it with all her heart and soul. How she wanted him as she had never wanted anyone else.

  “Spence—”

  His fingertip trailed across her lips, silencing her. Gently he removed her glasses and set them aside. Then he pulled her to him, cupping her face with his hands as he feathered kisses along her jawline, drawing a deep shudder from her.

  “There’s still so much you don’t know,” she murmured, trying to steel her resolve, but failing. “I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late.”

  Spence drew back and gazed into her eyes. “Does it have to do with Anthony?”

  “Yes—”

  “Then I don’t want to hear it,” he said.

  “But you have to know—”

  “The past is over, Natalie. At least for now. This moment belongs to us.”

  “But—”

  This time he silenced her with his mouth. Natalie’s lips opened instantly for him, and their tongues touched and mingled as thrill after thrill pulsed through her.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close, knowing that at any moment, what she was feeling could be torn away from her. She’d learned the hard way that nothing lasts forever, and if she could have even one moment of happiness, one moment of the exquisite desire Spence unleashed inside her, she would be a fool not to take it.

  He kissed her, whispered to her, touched her everywhere until her whole body ignited with passion. When he would have pulled away, she drew him back for another kiss, whispering to him, caressing him until she could feel his heart hammering beneath her hand on his chest—until she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Lips still meshed, fingers busy with their clothing, they began a slow dance toward the bedroom. Moonlight cascaded through the window, shadowing Spence’s face as he stared down at her. Natalie shivered at the dark intensity in his eyes, knowing what was about to happen, yearning for it, and yet wishing, somehow, that this moment could be preserved forever.

  “You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted,” she told him shyly. “I want you to know that.”

  His eyes softened, and he smiled at her so tenderly Natalie wanted to weep. He sat down on the bed and held out his hand. Without hesitation, she took it, allowing herself to be drawn once again into the thrilling warmth of his arms.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Do you think anyone can tell?”

  It was the next morning, and they were seated at a table near the river, having breakfast before Natalie went to work. She looked around at the half-dozen or so other diners scattered about the terrace, certain that every one of them would be able to tell by looking at her face what she and Spence had been up to last night. And this morning.

  She glanced at him and smiled shyly, her gaze adoring his every feature.

  Spence leaned across the table toward her, his eyes deepening to the color of the river. “If you keep looking at me like that, everyone will know, because I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

  He touched her leg beneath the table, and a thrill raced up Natalie’s spine. Images of last night danced in her head, drawing a blush to her cheeks. Their lovemaking had been so amazingly…intimate. She’d never dreamed that the touch of his lips behind her knee or the sound of his whisper in her ear could elicit such erotic sensations.

  She’d never dreamed that she could be so uninhibited, so…wanton.

  As Natalie sipped her coffee, she tried not to think about the consequences last night could bring. She tried not to think about the future at all, but it was there, looming before her, casting a dark shadow on the ray of happiness being with Spence had brought her.

  As if sensing her unease, he said softly, “Try to relax, Natalie. It’ll all be over soon.”

  She sighed. “I hope you’re right. But what if Russo doesn’t call? What if he gives up on the diamonds? You said yourself if he skipped town, the police would still need someone to pin Anthony’s murder on.”

  “Russo isn’t going to skip town.” Slowly he picked up his coffee cup while he scanned the surroundings. His expression was one of casual interest, but Natalie knew that, like herself, he was anything but relaxed. He wanted to make sure everything was going according to plan, that all the agents were in place and every contingency had been covered.

  The green eyes swept back to her. “He needs those diamonds. He’ll call and set up the drop. When he does, we’ll have him.”

  And this nightmare will finally be over, Natalie thought. But there were no guarantees and she knew it. Any number of things could go wrong. Russo might get cold feet and flee the country. He might get wind of the FBI’s surveillance. And even if he were caught with the diamonds, the police might still refuse to drop their charges against her.

  And Spence…might find out the truth.

  After he had fallen asleep last night, Natalie had remained awake until the wee hours of the morning, thinking about all the lies that Anthony had told to keep them apart. And there was yet another lie between them. A lie that might tear asunder the fragile bond they had only just begun to mend last night.

  Natalie closed her eyes briefly, wishing that she could tell Spence everything, but she’d kept the secret too well hidden for too many years. She’d protected her son for so long, the instinct was deeply ingrained in her being.

  The truth was, she was afraid to tell him. Afraid of what he might do. She couldn’t bear it if he aligned himself against her with Irene.

  Natalie knew that if she didn’t tell him, he would go back to Washington when all this was over. He would get on with his life, and she would get on with hers. The years loomed before her, bleak and lonely, but safe.

  If she told Spence the truth, he might remain in San Antonio, but he might also demand more than Natalie was willing to give.

  Suddenly, she didn’t know which prospect was more frightening—a life with him or a life without him.

  “Natalie?”

  She glanced up.

  “Are you all right?” His eyes burned into hers, and Natalie wondered suddenly what he would say if he knew what she was thinking. What he would do.

  It was that question that had tormented her as Spence had lain sleeping beside her this mo
rning. What would he do if he found out the truth?

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe her.

  His hand slipped over hers. “You’re thinking about Kyle, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “I won’t let anything happen to him. You have my word.”

  “What about your mother?” she whispered. “Can you keep her from taking him away from me?”

  Spence glanced away, running his hand through his dark hair. “I can only imagine how her threat must make you feel. If Kyle were my son…”

  Her heart stopped as her eyes met his.

  His gaze hardened. “If Kyle were my son, I’d do the same thing you are. I’d fight anyone who tried to take him away from me.”

  * * *

  NATALIE WORKED IN HER shop all day, waiting on the few customers who drifted in, but she was ever mindful of the clock, the silent telephone, and Spence, waiting out of sight in her workroom.

  The workroom door was open and Natalie could hear Spence and the female agent, who had already been inside the shop when they’d arrived that morning, talking in low voices. When the bells over the door chimed, signaling a customer, the sounds from the back room immediately ceased, only to start up again the moment the customer left.

  Natalie wondered what they were talking about, but neither of them seemed inclined to draw her into their confidence. Even though they were in her shop, she was the outsider, and Natalie didn’t much like it.

  Agent Dianne Skelley was one of those women who had been born to intimidate other women. She was about the same height as Natalie, same fair skin, same light brown hair, but the resemblance ended there. Where Natalie was slender, almost reed-thin, Dianne Skelley was full-breasted and long-legged, with big, brown eyes and lush, full lips. Ripe was the word that came to mind. She carried herself with an air of supreme self-confidence that Natalie could only admire. The very air around her seemed charged with electricity.

  And to make matters worse, she was a toucher, at least as far as Spence was concerned. She was constantly taking his arm, touching his hand, finding a million-and-one ways to come into physical contact with him. They were on a first-name basis, and judging by the familiar way they worked together, Natalie couldn’t help wondering if they’d once been something more.

  She frowned, not liking the direction of her thoughts. She didn’t like feeling jealous, but there it was. Spence had barely glanced at her since they’d arrived at the shop to find Agent Skelley waiting for them, and Natalie couldn’t help but resent the way the agent now had his undivided attention, or the way she seemed to have completely taken over Natalie’s workroom, turning it into a temporary surveillance-and-monitoring headquarters without so much as a word.

  From her position by the counter, Natalie still couldn’t make out what the two of them were saying back there, but she’d glanced inside the workroom a time or two, only to quickly retreat. The sophisticated-looking equipment was daunting enough, but the sight of those two heads bent together in cozy conspiracy was a little more than she could take.

  Natalie told herself she should be glad Spence had such a compelling distraction at the moment. Because if he didn’t, he might start to wonder about her reaction earlier at the restaurant, when he’d told her that if Kyle were his son, he would fight anyone who tried to take him away. He might start to wonder why she had looked so stunned by his revelation when his words had undoubtedly been uttered in sympathy.

  He might start to wonder about a lot of things, and Natalie wasn’t at all sure she was ready for explanations.

  Needing to touch base with her son, she picked up the phone, hoping that talking to Kyle might alleviate some of her worries.

  When she got him on the line, they chatted for several minutes about his day, about the cookies he’d made with his grandmother that morning and the game of Chinese checkers he’d played with his grandfather that afternoon.

  Toward the end of the conversation, Natalie brought up the subject of the ivory comb she’d found in his treasure chest the night before, and how it had come to be in his possession.

  “I didn’t steal it, Mom, honest,” he rushed to assure her. “I found it.”

  “Found it where?”

  Kyle hesitated for a long moment, then said, “In my dad’s office.”

  “What?” How had Blanche’s antique comb ended up in Anthony’s office? “Kyle, are you sure about that?”

  “I promise,” he said. “I was looking for my silver dollar Grandpa gave me, and I found it under a cushion on Dad’s couch. He said it was just a piece of trash and he threw it away.”

  “If he threw it away, how did you come to have it?”

  There was another long silence, then, “When he wasn’t looking, I dug it out of the trash can,” Kyle admitted. “But that’s not the same thing as stealing, is it? He threw it away. He didn’t want it.”

  Natalie didn’t want to get into a discussion with a six-year-old about the ethics of going through someone else’s trash can. She was still too shocked by what he’d told her. “What did you want with that comb, anyway, Kyle?”

  “I thought it was pretty,” he said in a quiet voice, sensing Natalie’s displeasure with him. “I wanted to give it to you for Christmas. Are you mad at me, Mom? Did I do something bad?”

  Natalie took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you, honey. We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

  “Okay. When are you coming to get me? When can we go home?”

  “Aren’t you having a good time with Grandma and Grandpa?”

  “Yeah, but…I wanna be with you.”

  “I want to be with you, too, sweetheart. And we will be. Very, very soon.”

  After a few more soothing words, Natalie hung up, then turned to find Spence standing in the workroom doorway, staring at her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You remember the antique ivory comb I found in Kyle’s tree house last night?” When he nodded, she said, “I told you it belonged to Blanche. Well, I just asked Kyle where he got it, and he said he found it in Anthony’s office. But how could it have gotten there?”

  “The answer seems pretty obvious. Blanche must have been there at one time or another.”

  “But she didn’t even know Anthony,” Natalie said.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Of course, I’m sure.”

  But as Natalie stood there relating her conversation with Kyle to Spence, her last meeting with Blanche came rushing back to her. The way Blanche had looked—as if she were deeply troubled about something. And then she’d admitted that the man she’d been seeing—the married man—had left her.

  Naturally, Natalie had assumed her friend had meant that the man had dumped her. But, supposing Blanche had meant he’d left her literally? That he had died? And that the man had been Anthony?

  Anthony and Blanche.

  Natalie’s heart flip-flopped inside her. Was it possible? And if so, why hadn’t Blanche confided in her? Because she knew Natalie wouldn’t approve? Or was it something else—something Natalie was afraid to even think about?

  Had another friend betrayed her?

  Although Natalie hadn’t said anything for several seconds, Spence’s thoughts must have been following hers exactly. He finally said, “Does Blanche have a key to this shop, Natalie?”

  She looked up at him and nodded. “She offered to open up for me a few weeks ago when I had to take Kyle to the doctor. She has full-time help and I don’t, so she said it was no big deal.”

  “She must have known the alarm code as well, then.”

  Again Natalie nodded.

  “It’s always puzzled me how Anthony was able to get in here the night he died without setting off the alarm. There was no sign of a forced entry. The police assumed that you had let him in, but—”

  “I didn’t,” Natalie said. “So someone else must have.”

  “
Exactly.”

  Blanche and Anthony. The names were like a litany inside Natalie’s head. Had Blanche given Anthony the key to Natalie’s store? Did Blanche know about the diamonds? Was she the one who had come in behind Natalie and—

  She cut off her thoughts, reluctant to take them to the next step, not wanting to believe that Blanche had betrayed her, just as Melinda had once done.

  But what if she had? What if Blanche knew something about the murder, but had deliberately withheld it from the police to implicate Natalie?

  But why? What could she hope to gain—except perhaps her own freedom—if she were the one who had killed Anthony?

  Spence turned to explain the situation to Agent Skelley, who lurked just behind him in the workroom. “Get someone up there to talk to Blanche Jones,” he said. “I want to know where she was the night my brother was killed.”

  “We’re not investigating Anthony’s murder,” Skelley objected. “That’s the local P.D.’s jurisdiction.”

  “I’m making it mine,” Spence said.

  Skelley’s elegant eyebrows drew together in a deep scowl. “Friend of yours or not, Sergeant Phillips will have a conniption if he finds out we’ve been interrogating suspects behind his back, not to mention withholding evidence.”

  Spence muttered something Natalie didn’t quite catch, but by the look on Agent Skelley’s face, it wasn’t something she would want him to repeat.

  “What about Washington?” Skelley challenged. “We have our assignment.”

  “And I’m broadening the parameters,” Spence retorted. “Any problem with that?”

  Their gazes clashed for the longest moment, and Natalie caught her breath at the look on Spence’s face. Never had she seen him look so determined. Or so dangerous.

  Finally, Agent Skelley shrugged, backing down. She reached for the phone, and Natalie was left facing Spence, shivering at the dark look of triumph in his eyes.

  A chilling thought rocked through her. She would hate to have him for an enemy. Spence wasn’t afraid to break a few rules when it suited him.

  Like all the other Bishops, he did whatever was necessary to win.

 

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