Since then, Sanders had kept his distance. He’d moved out of the house and everything that he hadn’t taken with him, Del had happily tossed into the huge trash bin that was sitting in the front yard. She’d meant it when she said she was gutting the wing where her step-father and her mother had lived. She was restoring it back to the way it had been before her dad died. If money and determination could do it, she was going to erase every sign that either of them had ever lived there.
Part of her did grieve for her mother, but more because she hadn’t ever really had a mom—just a woman that carried her and gave birth to her. Louisa would have eaten her own young and admitting it hurt Del almost as much as hiding from it had.
Her hand shook as she held the pink rose over the casket and then let it fall. It landed on the gleaming surface and for one moment, Del stared it. She hadn’t shed a tear in days. Del felt as though she should weep, but she remained dry-eyed.
Men stood by silently, unobtrusive, but she knew they were waiting for everybody to leave so they could shovel dirt over the coffin. Holding out her shaking hand, she waited for Blake to take it.
Ready?” he asked, closing his fingers around hers and lifting them so he could kiss her knuckles.
But she wasn’t. “I need to do something first.” She slid a glance at William Sanders who was standing on the opposite side of the grave and graciously, politely thanking everybody that came to offer their condolences. He could be a charismatic man, her step-father. She knew some people were muttering about how she’d kicked him out of the house, even though the truth had come out about how her mother and Sanders had been stealing her inheritance from her for years.
Part of her didn’t want to care.
But unfortunately, it was the smaller part.
She needed to face him, just once, and prove to herself that he didn’t have power over her, that he couldn’t hurt her anymore. And—she wanted just a little bit of blood. Not literally, but she had to strike out at him. It was petty, it was stupid. And it was human nature. Wrong as it might be, she needed to do this.
“So I’ll ask for forgiveness later,” she muttered as the minister from First Christian of Prescott approached.
She smiled even though she wanted to cry and she thanked him for the lovely eulogy. It had been lovely. The minister had mentioned all the wonderful things Louisa had done for the community and how freely she had donated both time and money.
Although it had been done for the wrong reasons, Louisa had been big into charity. It was the fashionable, responsible thing to do. Del already had Sam looking into her mother’s responsibilities and she intended to make sure each and every obligation was met. Unlike her mother, Del believed that people who had a great deal should give out of gratitude, not to look good socially.
Lincoln Vanderhall continued to speak to her in the soft, consoling way only a minister could manage, his hands cupping hers and she forced herself to smile and nod and answer questions when all she wanted was some peace and quiet. Finally, she tugged her hand away and said, “If you don’t mind, I’m worn out.”
She left him behind her while he murmured his understanding and she circled around the grave. The spikes of her heels dug into the earth and she navigated the uneven ground like she hadn’t spent even a day out of the sexy, ridiculous shoes that society pushed on females.
“Del.”
Blake laid a hand on her shoulder and she paused, looked back at him. “I need to do this,” she said softly. Reaching up, she covered his hand with hers and added, “And I need you with me.”
“Do I get to kill him?”
Sighing, Del glanced at the grave. “I think there’s been enough death for a while.”
His mouth twisted in a grimace and he ran his hands up and down her arms. “Sorry, baby.” Then he smiled hopefully. “Can I hurt him? Or hold him while you do it?”
Del chuckled. Reaching up, she caught one of his hands and linked their fingers. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to do something that will hurt him.” She eyed the man standing behind Sanders. He was older, graying and distinguished. He also had two suited men standing at his shoulder, another waiting on the path, and two more standing by the black limo at the end of the path.
She wasn’t overly interested in following politics but she recognized this man. “That’s Senator Watkins isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Blake said with a frown. “Voted for the guy last election. Won’t do it again, though. There’s a rumor floating around that he wants to groom your step-dad for a dip into politics. So obviously his ability to judge character sucks.”
Del’s smile widened. “Really.”
If Williams Sanders had any real sense, the smile on Del’s face would have warned him, Blake figured. He walked at her side and had to bite back a smile as she pulled her shoulders back and her eyes took on a wicked gleam. “Hello, William,” she said, placing her body between him and the grave.
William glanced from her to Blake. His lids flickered a little and he quickly looked back at Del. Apparently the man didn’t like something he saw on Blake’s face. Can’t imagine what, Blake thought as he opened and close one hand, imagined how it would feel to slam his fist into William’s face. Repeatedly.
“Delilah. You did wonderful by your mother. She’d be proud.”
Del snorted. “Actually, she told me she didn’t want me at her funeral.” She cocked her head and her hair, dark, thick and straight, fell over one shoulder. “Either the years have been good to you or you’ve got one hell of a plastic surgeon.”
A ruddy flush stained his cheeks red but he didn’t respond. “You’re as beautiful as your mother, but then, you always were. You were a beautiful girl and you’re a beautiful woman. I’ve missed seeing you.”
Oh. Totally wrong thing to say, Del thought, her entire body tensing. Beautiful girl. My pretty little slut. The words circled through her head, but instead of reeling from nausea and fear, she went stiff with anger. Her hand clenched into a fist and she wanted to hit him. But the physical pain wouldn’t ruin him. After all, it hadn’t ruined her.
With a sugary sweet smile, she said, “So who did you rape after I left? Couldn’t have been Mama.”
William’s spine went ramrod straight, like somebody has shoved a poker up his ass. His mouth twisted and his face went a florid shade of red. Behind him, the Senator’s lids flickered. He glanced at one of the black suits that stood at his side and then back at Del.
“Delilah, I know you’re upset—”
He reached out but before he could touch her, Blake caught his wrist. Del watched as Blake squeezed, squeezed so hard his knuckles went white and William’s hand started to go purple in Blake’s grasp. “Don’t touch her, William. Remember what I told you would happen.”
William jerked back and slowly, Blake let go. Del grinned at the look of fear on William’s face. Then her smile faded. “Upset?” she repeated softly. “Yeah, seeing my mother kill herself in front of me was upsetting. Hearing her say that she despised me was upsetting. But no more upsetting than knowing she didn’t care how often you raped me as long as you left her alone.”
His face twisted in a sneer and she could see it in his eyes, how much he wanted to hurt her. He wouldn’t, though. Not here. Keeping her voice quiet, she said, “You damn near destroyed my life, Father. But I’m not going to let you affect it any more. You’re dead to me.” Then she shifted her gaze to the man waiting just behind Sanders, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “The summer I was sixteen, this man spent two months raping me, beating me. My mother knew and she didn’t care. I don’t know which monster is worse, him or her. But now you know what he is. Do you really want to put somebody like him in office?”
“Ahh. No. No, madam, I do not.” Senator Watkins glanced at his men and then gave Del a short nod.
“Paul—”
The Senator looked back at Sanders for a brief moment. His mouth tightened in a flat line and shook his head. Saying nothing, he walked a
way.
When Sanders looked back at her, Del smirked. “Not the immediate satisfaction I’d get from seeing Blake beat you bloody, but in the long run? A lot more satisfying. From here on out, stay away from me. Otherwise, the next time I discuss this, it’s going to be in a much more public venue.”
“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” Blake asked lightly, but he wasn’t joking. Not exactly. Del sat sideways in the front seat of his cruiser, her feet still on the dusty gravel, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. She rocked back and forth, slow, subtle rhythm that he doubted she was even aware of. Her eyes were what bothered him the most though. Her pale green eyes were glassy and unfocused. When she looked at him, he didn’t think she really saw him.
He crouched in front of her and reached out, taking her hands. They were cold. Her lips looked bloodless. “Come on, Del. Say something.”
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Her breaths came in fast, erratic pants and Blake reached up, cupped the back of her neck and forced her head down. “Calm down, Del. Take a deep breath, baby. Come on…that’s it. Breathe for me. Slow…slow…”
Voice muffled, Del said, “Let me up.”
“Slow,” he warned her again as she went to straighten up. She still looked pale, but that white, pinched look to her mouth had faded. “You steady?”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze shifted to the left and Blake didn’t even have to turn around to know whom she had seen. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
Linking their fingers, he remained still and waited.
She laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous sound. It was bitter and ugly and it hurt his heart to hear it. “You know, I’ve only told four people what he did to me. Mama—and she didn’t believe me. You, Manda—and Joely.”
“Who was Joely?”
A sad, bittersweet smile curved her lips. “My guardian angel.” Her gaze met his and she said quietly, “Joely pulled me out of hell. I knew I was walking a bad road. There were different people that tried to help, but I wouldn’t listen to them. Joely wouldn’t let me not listen. She saved my life.”
“When can I meet her so I can say thanks?”
Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them back. “She’s dead. Died of cancer a year ago.” Taking a deep, shaky breath, she murmured, “Four people. And then I go and blurt it out in front of a senator and his bodyguards.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Do you regret it?”
“I don’t know. Some, maybe.” Her mouth quirked in a grin. “But the look on William’s face…”
Laughing softly, Blake said, “Oh, that was priceless. Almost as good as if I had pounded him a few times.” The limo was long gone from their sight, but they both remembered the faint look of disgust that Senator Watkins had shot at Sanders before climbing into his car. “He’s ruined, you know. Watkins won’t say anything about this, but without the senator’s support, Sanders doesn’t stand a chance in politics. Word will get around that Sanders is a bad bet. This mess with your mother, it isn’t going to help. People are already talking about the money they stole from you.”
A grimace twisted her soft mouth. “Yeah, I know. A few people think I’m being heartless, tossing him out like that, money or not.”
With a shake of his head, Blake assured her, “That will pass. He’s a rich man, but not a liked one. Not a respected one. It’s not really much justice, though, is it?”
Del lifted up a hand and laid it against his cheek. “I don’t need justice, Blake. I just needed to accept it—and figure out how to move on with my life.”
“And have you figured that out?”
She smiled again, but this one wasn’t bleak, bitter or sad. Instead, she looked thoughtful, hopeful even. Leaning in, she kissed him softly and murmured against his lips, “Working on it.”
“Hmmmm.” He nibbled on her lower lip. “I’d be happy to help you figure it out if you want.” Sucking her lip into his mouth, he bit soft and gentle and then stroked her with his tongue.
The sound of her breath catching in her throat sent a surge of heat through him. Reluctantly, he pulled back and rested his brow against hers. “You ready to go?”
Lifting her head, she looked around. Her gaze drifted to an area of the cemetery off to the south. Blake followed her gaze. “I can walk you over there, if you want,” he offered.
But Del just shook her head. “I’ve had about as much of this place as I can take for the day. Not today.” She closed her eyes and sat there for a minute, still as death. Then she looked back at him and gave him a watery smile. This time, when the tears welled in her eyes, she didn’t try to hold them back. “Daddy would understand, I think. He never liked coming here much to visit his mama after she died. Always said life was for living, not for crying over those who’ve already passed.”
Pushing her dark, silky hair back from her face, Blake leaned in and kissed her brow. He breathed in the warm, sweet scent of her body, letting it flood his system. The heat came, but it wasn’t just heat.
Blake hadn’t been the one to leave home twelve years ago, but all the same, losing her, it had cut him adrift. In that moment, with the warmth of the August sun shining down on them as they stood in a stone garden surrounded by the memory of death, he realized he felt like he’d come home, too.
“Come on.” He rubbed his lips against hers and murmured, “Let’s get out of here.”
Nearly forty minutes later, the hot summer wind blowing in through the open windows of the cruiser, Blake turned down the long gravel road that would lead to the lake house. He’d asked her where she wanted to go and she’d said, “Any place but the manor. I’m not up for attending the wake, Blake.” Since then, she’d stared out the window in silence but as he sped up, she glanced over at him. “I reckon half the town is going to think I’m doing something unforgivable, cutting out on my mother’s wake.”
He shook his head and reached over, curving his hand over the back of her neck and squeezing gently. “Don’t you worry about them. Manda’s there and Vance. They’ll handle it. Considering how it happened, I can imagine most of them would understand why you aren’t ready to go back to the manor.”
“I’m going to redecorate. Put the manor back to the way it was before Mama married him. I want it the way it was back when Daddy was alive.” She smirked, looking just a little less lost. “I certainly have the money for it now, don’t I?”
“How are you going to do that working in Cincinnati?”
Sliding a look at him, she murmured, “My, that was subtle.” Then she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m turning in my notice. Moving back here.”
A minute passed before he trusted himself to respond. “They going to be okay with you leaving?”
A faint smile curved her lips. “At first? Maybe not. They need me… Or rather, they need somebody there who will do what I was doing, for the salary I received. But…” Her voice trailed off.
He glanced at her and saw that faint smile had widened into a pleased grin. “I’ve got more money now than I know what to do with. They could use some of it. Hell, they could use a lot. So I’m going to see what I can do about that. Maybe they can get a decent staff in there. They do good things. With some money, with the right resources…they could do more.”
Looking at him, she shrugged. “Believe me, once I talk to my boss, he’ll be more than happy with the trade.” Then she sighed and turned her head to look out the window. This is home, Blake. Always has been. I think it’s time I come back.”
Blake said nothing. He couldn’t. He wanted to, but he wasn’t so sure he could speak around the knot in his throat. Even if he could, he had absolutely no idea what he’d say. The relief inside him, it had made him blind, deaf and dumb to anything, to everything. Except one thing.
Touching her. Blake just had to touch her. The lake house was still out of sight, lost among the trees, although he could make out the water, the sun shining down on i
t and glinting like diamonds. Pulling off the road, he put the car into park and then reached for her. Fumbling with her seat belt, he swore as the damn thing resisted him, all but tangling under his hands as he jerked at it. Del laughed softly and reached down, brushing his hands aside and releasing the belt. She came to him, coming across the console and cuddling against his chest.
Fisting a hand in her hair, he angled her head back, stared into her pale eyes. “You coming back just because you miss home?” he asked, his voice rusty.
Lowering her lashes over her eyes, she shrugged. “I have missed home.”
The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins drained out and his heart dropped into his stomach like a lead weight. Of course she missed home. Time splintered around him and he wondered if he could do this. If she came home but decided that she wasn’t ready to try it with him after all, it was going to kill him.
Hell, he felt half dead inside already.
Her hand cupped his cheek and he shifted his gaze back to hers. She was smiling again, a secretive smile that only a female could manage—one that was designed just to drive men crazy. “Maybe I should also tell you that this place wouldn’t be home, if you weren’t here.”
Just like that, his life realigned itself. “So what are you coming back for? Home? Me?”
Squirming around, she wiggled and shifted, working her long, skinny skirt up so she could put a knee on either side of his hips. The steering wheel was at her back and it was a tight fit—a perfect fit, as far as he was concerned because she was pressed close and snug to his body. “You are home, Blake. Much as I missed Prescott, much as I missed Manda and my friends and the lake, you’re what I thought of when I thought of home.” She kissed him, using her tongue and her teeth, sliding her hands up his back over his neck. She tugged off the black cloth he had covering his bare scalp, stroking him gently.
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