by Tess Oliver
“So, you conspired with international terrorists?”
“No, of course not. They were not terrorists. They wanted the bracelet, and they were going to pay me well for it. I would have given my life rather than hand it over to the university. The money could have allowed me to retire and fund my own expeditions.”
Dalton stood and walked to the window. “How much did Ethan know?”
The professor’s silence was like a cold slap in the face.
Dalton looked at him. “It would explain why he’s been such an asshole this week.”
Professor North’s eyes widened. “I will deny that he had any involvement. I will take it to my grave.”
“The two of you placed August in danger, and I will never forgive either of you for that.”
Hearing it spoken so plainly felt like a punch in the stomach. I’d heard enough. I jumped up, raced to the guest room and closed the door behind me. I curled up under the blankets and cried. Once I could gather my composure and the shock of it all had worn off, I would pack and drive back to the campus. I only hoped Dalton would come with me. I wanted nothing more to do with any of this.
I heard the front door slam and I went to the window. Dalton was trudging across the snow with his lopsided steps. My head had begun to pound with the surreal events of the morning. I walked over to the dresser and started to pack my clothes. Once Dalton returned I would ask him to drive back to the university with me. He would go with me— I was sure of it.
A knock at the door startled me as I folded my sweaters.
“August, I want to talk to you.”
“I’m busy packing,” I said shakily.
“I know you are,” his deep voice was muffled by the thick door. “I just want you to know that I will never forgive myself.”
I finally worked up the courage to open the door. He looked so completely different than the man I had admired so greatly. It was as if somewhere deep in some attic there was a Dorian Gray style portrait of the charming, thoughtful Professor North. “I will not forgive you either.”
“I plan to turn myself in today.” He swallowed. “At first I’d convinced myself that it was my love of antiquities that had turned me to make this dark decision. I had something so amazing in my possession, and I wanted it to be mine to share with the world. But it was not long before I came to the bitter conclusion that greed was my motivation. The university would benefit from my discovery, and I would be left with nothing.”
“I’ll be leaving as soon as Dalton returns home,” I replied coldly. I had nothing else to say to the man.
I shut the door and returned to my task of packing. My phone rang and I didn’t need to look at it to know it was my mom. But I couldn’t answer. For the time being, I had no intention of telling my parents. They would never let me live it down, and my dad would, no doubt, board a plane with a team of lawyers. For now, I would keep it to myself, as difficult as it might be.
My stomach churned with hunger, but I had no appetite and aspirin had only dulled the throbbing in my head. Several hours after I’d finished packing, I’d tucked myself beneath the covers and waited for Dalton’s return. But he never came back. The house was empty and suddenly I needed to be gone from the place for good.
Tears burned my eyes as I carried my bag to my car. The professor had left shortly after our terse conversation. I was glad not to have to see him again. And then the final ugly truth hit me too. Dalton had gone off without saying good-bye as if I’d been nothing but one of his one night stands. Apparently, it had all been a sales pitch. I’d been duped by every one of the North men, but the one who had betrayed me the most was Dalton.
Chapter 22
I stared down at the cold hamburger on the paper plate and realized it looked about as appetizing as shoe leather. I pulled my quilt around my shoulders, plopped down on my couch and stared at the blank television screen. A minor blizzard had blown through town on Christmas Eve taking the power lines with it. And while the heat and lights had returned quickly, the cable had died completely.
My tiny apartment looked bleak and the complete antithesis of holiday cheer. My mom had woken me early with a “Merry Christmas” call from somewhere on the banks of the Rhine. It was not easy but I’d pretended to be having a jolly old time at the North house rather than sitting alone in my small apartment with only the hum of the refrigerator to keep me company.
After leaving the house, I’d driven back to campus in a heartbroken trance. Once I reached my apartment, I’d breathed a sigh of relief and then broken down into sobs. I’d cried until I felt sick from it. After the stomach twisting grief, I’d gone through a period of anger . . . anger at myself for falling so hard for Dalton. I would never be that stupid again.
And now, as much as I loved antiquities, I was seriously considering a different major. Or maybe I’d just go back home to sunny, warm California and learn to behave as my parents expected, like a shallow, vapid rich girl with no real dreams except to own the newest Gucci handbag.
The heater cranked on with its usual fanfare and noise. It had been working hard all day, and I feared it would eventually break and then I would freeze to death alone on Christmas Day.
A noise outside caused me to pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I seemed to be one of the few people on campus and after the attack at the professor’s house, it had been unsettling to be so alone.
A knock at the door sent me flying to the kitchen for a frying pan. I tiptoed to the door and peeked up into the peep hole. It was foggy with condensation, but I could see a tall figure in a black beanie standing outside my door. My heart raced but it wasn’t out of fear. It was from seeing him standing there on my stoop.
I opened the door. He lifted his face. Even miserable with cold, the man sent a wave of heat through me.
Dalton smiled down at the frying pan and then he lifted his gaze. “You left me.”
“No, you left me.” My voice broke. “You promised you weren’t going to let me out of your sight.”
“I was coming back.” He sighed. “I just need to get away for awhile. There was a lot to think about.” He pulled his coat closed. “It’s really cold out here.”
I stepped aside and he walked into the apartment. He looked around. “Nice place.”
I laughed. “Would you like a cold hamburger?”
“I’ll pass.”
“How is Ethan?”
He nodded. “He’s recuperating really well. Veronica came to town and that seems to be speeding things along.” He swallowed and seemed to be looking for words. “Dad turned himself in. He told the police that Ethan knew nothing about the plan. The lawyers are working on some kind of a plea bargain claiming that he was under terrible duress at having lost the court case with the university. The arm band was turned over to the college, so they’re happy. Dad refused to give any names on the grounds that it would endanger his family.” A sad laugh escaped him. “Now he’s worried about his family.”
“The university had no right to that artifact,” I said.
“You really do have a thing for my dad, don’t you?”
“I know deep down he’s a great guy. He just went a little crazy with the disappointment of it all.”
He turned to face me and as usual everything about him sent waves of emotion through me. The room vibrated as if he’d brought all the energy of the world with him. “Bryce’s dad called me yesterday.” The despair that crossed his face when he spoke his friend’s name made my chest tight. “He makes custom furniture. Bryce was supposed to be his apprentice when we returned from Iraq. He’s asked me to take Bryce’s place.”
“That sounds like it would be just right for you. Are you considering it?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I’m glad for you, Dalton.”
He stood quietly for a
moment and then stepped closer to me. “Ever since my mom got sick it seems like my life has been one long string of disappointment and heartbreak. Losing Bryce in the war and getting hurt had really shattered any hope I’d had for happiness. I’ve been wandering aimlessly around this country wondering if I’d ever find anything or anyone to anchor me to one place again.” He took another step toward me, and I wanted badly to throw my arms around him. “I met you and all of a sudden it seemed I might be happy again. It seemed that maybe I could finally leave some of my ugly past behind and live again.” The look he gave me brought tears to my eyes. “Auggie, I need you.”
I threw my arms around his neck. His strong arms went around me and he pulled me against him. He kissed me long and hard.
I smiled up at him. “What was that movie line— you had me at—”
He laughed. “please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead?”
“Not that one.”
“You had me at Sugarplum?”
“That’s it.” I hopped up on my toes and kissed him.
Strangely Normal
Excerpt:
He stared at my face a long time. “You’re incredible,” he said quietly. And then in the dark, dimly lit hallway, his face leaned closer to mine and I thought a kiss would follow. But he held himself back. Or it was entirely possible that I’d just imagined the kiss because I truly wanted it. Then it dawned on me that the steely reserve I’d worked so hard to convince Finley of this morning was completely gone. My resolve to not fall for this guy was fading quickly.
He took my hand and led me to a stool he had placed ten feet away from his canvas. He patted the seat, and I climbed up on it. His fingers held my ankles longer than necessary as he slid the sandals off my feet. Then as if he’d already had the pose completely mapped out in his mind, he placed each foot on the bottom rung of the stool so that my thighs were apart and my bare knees peeked through the worn out jeans. He leaned back and looked at me as if he was assessing a piece of marble for a sculpture.
Then without warning, he grabbed the end of the undershirt and tugged it down so that my cleavage and the sides of my breasts were bared. Startled, I pulled back and his fingers lost their grasp. The shirt bounced back up.
He raised a dark eyebrow at me. “It’s still less skin than that bikini.”
“Fine,” I said, “but I may never forgive Finley for getting me that suit.”
He reached forward again and tugged on the shirt. The cool air of the room brushed my exposed skin as he took my hand. “Now hold it there and lean forward some.”
He leaned back again.
“Aren’t you supposed to squint past your thumb or something?”
He smiled but didn’t take his eyes off me. “I never have figured out why artists do that.”
His fingers took hold of my chin, and I sucked in a small breath. The near kiss or imagined near kiss in the hall had left me feeling unbalanced and vulnerable, and now I seemed to have little control over ridiculousness.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Uh huh.” I swallowed back a sudden case of nerves, and even after the last silly overreaction to his touch, I was completely unready for his next move.
His rough thumb reached up and dragged down lightly over my bottom lip. “Make sure to keep that pouty look you’re so good at.” His gaze never left my mouth as he spoke.
“I’m not pouty--”
He put up his hand. “Don’t move, don’t talk. This is perfect.”
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Other Books by Tess
Camille (Camille Series, #1)
Heart of the Huntress (Camille Series, #2)
Freefall (Custom Culture, #1)
Clutch (Custom Culture, #2)
Strangely Normal
Angel Beach
Cowboy Dark
Home is Where the Heartbreak is
Paradise
Bittersweet Obsession
Safe Landing
A Little Less Girl
Distraction (Years from Home, #1)
Unbreakable (Years from Home, #2)
Destined (Years from Home, #3)
Bitterroot Crossing
Blackpool Cove