by T. M. Cromer
Chapter 19
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, torturing a sleep-deprived Margie. Rolling onto her belly, she burrowed deeper and used the pillow to block the light.
The covers were unceremoniously yanked from her body, and the smack to her ass brought her off the bed, ready to do battle. She would’ve taken a page from Sammy’s book and broken Gabriel’s nose if he hadn’t appeared so blindingly beautiful standing there, a wide, loving grin gracing his face.
“Good morning, my love. I have coffee waiting for you.” The husky sound of his voice curled around her, and she lunged forward to hug him. It might’ve been the “my love” or possibly the mention of coffee, but either way, she was compelled to throw herself into his arms. How could she not? Especially when it placed her naked breasts in direct contact with his warm skin.
“Come on. You can down one cup before your walk of shame.”
“What time is it?”
“Nine. James called to say he’s already sent Scott a text to meet him at your place with the boys. Said he’s picking them up at ten to take them to the beach and keeping them for a sleepover.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. He mentioned something about us needing a day to ourselves.” Gabriel placed a full mug in her hand. “Say what you will, but I’m really starting to like your brother.”
“He has his good moments.” Margie smiled and sipped her drink. “Dear God, this is the best coffee I’ve ever tasted! I need the brand.”
“Grey said it came from the Cool Beans Way.”
“Ah, I should have known. I’m sure Skye has a pact with the devil. How else can her coffee be this delicious?”
“I’d offer to review her contract with him if I thought it would keep me in a constant supply.” He leaned in and kissed the column of her throat.
Tilting her head, she allowed him better access. For a few tingling moments, he nibbled his way along her skin to the lobe of her ear. He spoiled her delicious haze with a sharp bite.
“We need to have a quick chat before your beasts come home.”
“Did you just call my children beasts?” she asked, incredulous.
“Don’t act like you’re all offended. You know the truth.”
She laughed at his harried expression. Her boys were a little much. They’d latched onto Gabriel like a drowning man to a life preserver. Every chance they got, they followed him around, slamming him with questions about everything their young, inquisitive brains could think to ask. Quite possibly, they viewed him as a replacement for Michael, who had been gone for five months now. She shook off the sadness that came with her thoughts of him.
“You know you adore them.” A swat on Gabriel’s bicep emphasized her words.
“Possibly. Or maybe I like making love with their mother.” He flared his eyes wide and waggled his brows.
“So sad for you, we’re a package deal,” she returned.
“Don’t I know it.”
“Oh, shut it!” She should’ve known she couldn’t win at wordplay with a lawyer.
Taking the coffee from her hand, Gabriel sipped it and set the mug on the nightstand. His expression turned somber.
An odd fluttering started low in Margie’s stomach. “What is it?”
“Your sister Sammy. James told me she isn’t doing well in Brookhaven. I’ve been trying to get her sentence suspended, but the D.A. doesn’t want to budge on our initial agreement of ninety days. In addition, she has to show improvement, or they won’t release her.”
“She’s worse? What does Stephen say?”
“He can’t break the patient/doctor confidence. Violet is Sammy’s medical contact. He’ll only discuss the case with her.”
“I need to go see Sammy. Today.”
“James thought you’d react exactly that way.” Gabriel sighed and rubbed a hand through his already mussed hair. “She’s not responding to anyone, love. She just sits and stares since her miscarriage.”
Their mom had initially kept Sammy’s attack and the subsequent loss of her baby secret. When Margie first discovered the lie, she blew a gasket. Only feeling marginally better knowing Annie and James had been left in the dark along with her.
“She’s my little sister, and I’ve been a horrible shit to her. Now she’s going through this, and none of us can help? How is it fair, Gabriel?” It made her ill to learn her vivacious sister was a shell of her former self.
He gathered her close. “It isn’t.”
The continued strum of his fingers through her hair calmed and helped center her. “I’m okay. Really,” she said when she saw his look of disbelief. “But I should get going.”
“We have time to shower here. Together.” The pitch of his voice was husky and filled with seductive intent.
“You know we are never that quick, and it would be the one day Scott is on time for a change.” Regret hung heavily on her rejection, but she had to get home.
“Why don’t we simply tell everyone we’re dating and be done with it. It isn’t as if I haven’t spent time at your house. The kids know, Margaret. They aren’t oblivious.”
She couldn’t explain her reticence. Perhaps her reluctance stemmed from her insecurities. Gabriel was six years younger than she was. He was educated, highly intelligent, and unencumbered by children. What if in another month he grew tired of playing house? How would her kids feel? Hell, how would she feel? She’d never live through the heartbreak of losing him in this lifetime as she had in the past. Better her children continued to think he was the fun neighbor who sometimes hung out at their place for dinner.
As the water cascaded over her body, Margie’s mind flitted to the past. She wasn’t sure why these old memories were stirring—maybe her fear?—but she couldn’t seem to separate herself from them.
April 1912 -
From the second he passed her the note, Sebastian swept Lucy into a whirlwind romance. Whenever they had an opportunity, they snuck away. A stroll around the deck, the ship’s entertainment, kisses in the shadows—they enjoyed it all.
Tonight, Lucy tried not to squirm as she waited for Sebastian to join her.
Well past the appointed time to eat, he arrived, accompanied by Rosalie.
A deep sense of dread wedged itself in Lucy’s diaphragm and refused to budge. No one could fail to see the laughing sparkle in Rosie’s eyes or her puffy lips. A telltale sign of kissing if ever Lucy saw one.
Her eyes traveled over Sebastian.
He was looking less than pristine, and she had little doubt who Rosie’s kissing companion had been.
Pain nearly doubled her over, and the effort to keep a pleasant expression was mighty. Fixated on her meal, she took one dainty bite then a second. On and on, it went, and of course the food tasted like sawdust but turned to lead once it hit her stomach. Between each mouthful, she sipped her wine to wash down what fought to stick in the back of her throat.
Lucy ignored all of Sebastian’s attempts at conversation, reserving her attention for the passenger in the neighboring seat.
Molly Brown. The woman was quite the character, with the eyes of a hawk. And when Molly leaned toward her, Lucy half expected a juicy bit of gossip. Not that she cared when her own world was spinning out of control, but pretenses had to be maintained.
“Everything will work out, dear. I’m sorry to say, this isn’t the only heartache you’ll face in life.” Molly radiated understanding and sympathy.
Blinking rapidly, Lucy nodded and cleared her throat, wanting nothing more than to fall into the older woman’s arms and sob. But pride kept her spine stiff, and she prayed Sebastian and Rosie didn’t see the hurt they’d dealt her with their careless actions.
Lucy snuck a glance his way. Their gazes collided, and she felt the jolt to her toes. His solemn-eyed stare was hard to meet. Lucy ducked her head and developed an interest in her dessert. What had she expected? By involving herself with a man like him, with his Lothario personality, she’d set herself up for heartache. Lesson learned. Rosie
, however, should’ve known better. When next they were alone, Lucy would set her straight.
After the gentlemen left for after-dinner entertainments, Rosie shifted to sit next to her. “What is the matter with you, Lucy? Sebastian has been trying to get your attention all night.”
“I do not wish to discuss this with you, Rosalie.”
“I do not understand you, sissy. The man is mad for you.”
Lucy flung off the hand Rosie had placed on her knee. “Oh, and should I ignore the fact that he is mad for you as well. Or that you both show up together, looking disheveled? Do you think I’m blind to not see your mouth swollen from his kisses? Or your lip rouge on his collar?”
“Lucy, it is not what you think.”
“Is it not?”
“No. And if you refuse to be reasonable, I shan’t tell you the truth of it.”
“I know the truth of it, Rosie,” Lucy snarled, careful to keep her voice low to avoid being overheard. “You are nothing but a harlot.”
“I see.” Rosie dabbed her lips with a napkin, the picture of haughty arrogance, although her tear-bright eyes gave her away. “I’ll remove my harlot self from your proximity. We cannot have you tainted, St. Lucy.”
As Rosy exited the dining salon, head held high, regret settled in Lucy’s chest. Her sister was no more than a girl, and really, wasn’t she the foolish one here? Lucy had allowed herself to be seduced by another man when she hadn’t even consummated her marriage to the first. How could she expect Rosie, a girl fresh from the schoolroom, to behave when men flung themselves at her feet?
With great care, Lucy placed the crumpled napkin by her plate. None of this was hers or Rosie’s making. How could she blame her sister for having her head turned by a man like Sebastian when she, the elder and wiser, had fallen for his brand of charm so easily? Tomorrow, they would talk and clear the air between them.
Turning to Molly, Lucy caught the disapproval in her expression. Not wanting to feel she’d disappointed her new friend, she popped up and rushed for the door. She was only ten steps outside the dining room when Sebastian stepped from the shadows.
“Lucy, what have I done to upset you? Tell me, so that I might make it right.” His voice, so warm and caring, broke what was left of her heart.
Pressing her hand to her breast, she tried to regulate the beat with a calming breath. “Mr. Harwick, I b-believe it best we not s-see each other again.” Firming her resolve, she dropped her arms and lifted her chin. “I would also thank you to stay away from my sister.”
He reacted as if she had taken off her shoe and beat him about the head with it. Mouth agape, he shook his head as if to clear it. As she started to go around him, he grabbed her arm, whipping her back around. “Your sister flew by me in tears just now. Does this have something to do with the two of us coming in to dinner together?”
“No, but it has everything to do with the two of you coming in, looking as if you’d just made love,” she snapped.
“You cannot possibly believe I’m interested in your sister.”
Seeing the raw sincerity in his eyes, she felt a swift rush of uncertainty. Could she be wrong? She shook her head, telling herself not to be naive. Some men made a game out of conning and seducing women. “Explain to me why her lip rouge was on your collar.”
He sighed as if disappointed by her accusation.
“It appears your sister is a magnet for unsavory men. I stumbled upon one of the crewmen taking liberties. When I stepped in and assisted Rosalie, she hugged me.” His eyes softened and his smile matched. “It was nothing more, love. I swear it on my life. If you feel the need to verify this, check with the captain. The crewman is being detained as we speak.”
He paused to pull her into the shadows and pressed his forehead to hers. “As of three days ago, I have not entertained the thought of another woman. How could I? Since meeting you…” With a shrug, he trailed a finger along her jaw. “There could never be another woman for me now, Lucy. Never.”
His words held the ring of truth, and Lucy silently cursed herself for jumping to the wrong conclusion. She’d hurt Rosie for nothing.
“Oh, Sebastian. I’m sorry for being a jealous fool.”
“You aren’t feeling anything I haven’t felt, knowing you return to Andrew each night,” he growled against her lips.
Although he had to know she’d not been intimate with Andrew, Sebastian’s jealousy delighted her.
He kissed her roughly once, twice, then a third time before pulling away. “Come, let us find Rosalie. I fear for that girl on her own.”
“What about Andrew? He could come looking for me.”
“When I abandoned the men to their evening pursuits, he was safely ensconced in the gaming room with the other gentlemen.”
Hours passed, and still, they found no sign of Rosie. Beyond panicked, Lucy engaged the services of the crew to assist in their search. At one point, convinced she couldn’t take another step, Lucy slumped against the closest wall.
“Why don’t I return you to your cabin? I can continue on my own.”
“I’ll never be able to sleep until she is found. I want to go with you, Sebastian.”
“You’re exhausted, love.”
“She’s my sister, and I was horrible to her.”
He seemed to understand what she couldn’t say, and reluctantly, he agreed to let her stay.
“All right. Rest for a minute longer, then we’ll head down to the third-class decks. It is the only place left to search.”
Margie shut off the water and buried her face in the fluffy towel. The bedroom door opened and closed, startling her from her memories. She glanced at the clock on the bathroom vanity and frowned. The kids weren’t due home for another twenty minutes, and even if they had arrived home early, they knew better than to enter her personal space without knocking. If it was Gabriel, he’d have called out by now.
Standing stock-still, breath halted in her chest, she strained to hear. After what seemed like an hour, but was a minute at most, she tucked the ends of the towel over her breasts and tiptoed toward the door. Heart in her throat, she peeked around the opening. Her room was empty.
Just as she was about to laugh at her foolishness, the air became charged, and the fine hairs on her arms lifted straight up as goose bumps dotted her flesh.
Danger.
The same instinct that had insisted she call Gabriel over the day Don installed the alarm, was once again screaming a warning.
The closet door drew her notice, and her sixth sense told her the scene was wrong. Margie didn’t remember leaving the door ajar, but she might’ve. Did she imagine the heavy breathing, or was that her own breath laboring past the fear lodged in her throat?
Her phone rested on the charger across the room, and Margie doubted she’d make it before she called attention to herself. Was it better to lock herself in the bathroom? Maybe try to wiggle her ass out the tiny window or signal Gabriel for help.
Frozen with indecision, she couldn’t stop her shaking enough to make a move. What if the kids came home to an intruder? What then? A replay of what happened to Kaley? She’d for sure fuck someone up if they hurt her children. Her protective instincts propelled her into action. Racing across the room, she dove for the phone and rolled across the bed.
A masked figure lunged from inside the closet, and Margie knew true terror. Trying to make herself as small as possible, she wedged herself under the bed and, with trembling fingers, managed to tap the button on the side of the iPhone the required five times to contact emergency services. Just as a dispatcher’s voice came through the receiver, a heavy hand wrapped around her ankle, and panic clawed at her throat. She kicked out and hollered for all she was worth. After her foot connected with her attacker’s shoulder, she scrambled for the opposite side of the bed.
“Help! Help me!” she screamed.
The attacker beat on the bed frame and bellowed. In a fit of rage, he threw the mattress into the wall. The only thing between them was t
he box spring, and Margie’s chance of survival was quickly diminishing. Whoever this man was, he sought to hurt her.
Huffing out her address and praying the dispatcher heard, she dropped the phone and latched onto the underside of the box spring. In an attempt to retain the last barrier of protection, Margie clawed through the material covering the frame and gripped the wooden slats. He tugged, but she wrapped an arm around the thin beam, desperately hoping her body weight would make it harder for him to get to her.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and the intruder stopped struggling long enough to listen. With a curse, he ran for the door.
When she was sure he’d left the room, Margie untangled herself from the underside of the wooden frame and retrieved her phone. She gushed her gratitude as the dispatcher assured her the patrolman was pulling into the driveway and less than thirty seconds away. With a prayer thanking whatever entity existed, Margie curled into herself and began to tremble. If a deputy hadn’t happened to be in the general area when the call went through, and had the sirens not scared off the masked man, she’d be toast.
“Ma’am? Our officers are on the scene and in the house.”
Her breath hiccuped in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to drag enough air into her lungs to take a fortifying breath. The chattering of her teeth telegraphed through the phone line like freaking Morse code.
“I’m in the m-main bedroom on the r-right, at the end-d of the h-hall,” she managed through a shaky exhale. “T-tell them to p-please be careful. I don’t know where he is.”
Her phone vibrated, and Gabriel’s number popped up on the screen. As much as she wanted to take the call, to have him here and feel the comfort of his arms around her, she wasn’t foolish enough to answer. She needed to stay on the line with the dispatcher until she made contact with a deputy and got the all clear.
The boots of the two uniformed officers came into view at the far end of the hall. One by one, they checked the rooms, calling the all clear to the other. The entire time, Margie maintained a quiet conversation with the dispatcher.