Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him

by Clair Delaney

  I blink several times, trying to get my brain to fire. “Um...well...” I shake my head, and in an effort to kick start my brain, I look away from Tristan’s molten lava look. I think I need to fan myself. “Hot and spicy?” I whisper, looking up at the menu. And then it hits me! “I’d make you a Cuban Sandwich!”

  Tristan smiles widely at me. “How did I know you’d have the answer! Tell me wife, what’s in a Cuban Sandwich?”

  I smile coyly at him. “Ham, slow roasted pork, Swiss cheese, pickles or jalapeños – depending on how hot you like it,’ I say raising my eyebrows at him teasingly, ‘and mustard, all toasted on a sandwich until the cheese is melted!”

  “Sounds delicious,” he says his eyes widening as he leans down, his lips almost brushing against mine. “And I like it hot!” He adds as a wicked – turn my bones to jelly – tempting, teasing smile spreads across his face.

  I swallow hard. How can he make me feel like this when he’s not even touching me? Now I’m just a bag of sexual tension and frustration! I have no idea what this exercise has been about, and it’s driving me wild!

  “I think you should add that to the menu,” he says, chortling at my expression.

  I stop breathing.“What!?”

  “You heard me,” he grins.

  My mouth pops open. Holy fuck!

  “Tell me Coral, what other choices of hot lunches would you offer?” I go to speak but nothing comes out – What did he just say? ‘I think you should add that to the menu’. “I’m waiting,” he teases, grinning broadly – his dimples distracting me.

  “Um...” I blink up at him and start blurting it out. “Panini’s, toasted sandwiches, um...Quesdillas?” I stop talking, my heart is hammering against my chest, it’s making it hard to breathe.

  “What about Jacket Potatoes, people like those in the winter, don't they?” Tristan adds.

  Mmm...hot jacket with melted butter and cheese. I’m drooling!

  “Yes, they do. But what’s your point Tristan?” I gripe.

  He turns away from me grinning widely, and steps up to the food counter. “Good morning,” he says, smiling at the pretty blonde girl behind the counter, her cheeks instantly flush. I want to roll my eyes, but I don't.

  “Hi,” she squeaks – Jeez, I hope I don't look that helpless when Tristan smiles at me?

  “Is Henrique in today?” Tristan asks. Henrique? Who’s Henrique?

  She nods once; she seems to have lost the power of speech too.

  “Good. It’s an unscheduled visit, but can you let him know Tristan Freeman is here?” He says.

  She nods again, scuttles from behind the counter, runs past the tables and pushes through a door that clearly states ‘staff only’ – Tristan turns to me, he’s wearing his smug smile.

  I narrow my eyes at him. I have my arms crossed, my eyebrow is arched and my foot is tapping in annoyance – What is he doing?

  “Mr Freeman!” I turn to see a young man with black hair, almost black eyes and European skin walking towards us; he looks really young too, twenties maybe? And has what I think is a Spanish accent.

  “Henrique.” Tristan greets him warmly, shaking his hand. “May I introduce my wife, Coral Freeman.” My heart slams against my chest – Still not used to hearing that yet!

  The young boy turns to me, and smiles in recognition. “Of course, I’ve heard all about you,” he says as I glance at him, then glare at Tristan.

  “You have?” I say, surprised.

  “Yes.” His white toothed grin widens. “Please, take a seat.” Tristan takes my hand and we head over to one of the tables. “Can I get you anything?” Henrique asks.

  “Coffee please, and a Cappuccino for the lady,” Tristan says, winking at me.

  I wait until Henrique is far enough away so he can't hear me. “What are you up to?” I hiss, my voice low.

  “Oh...just discussing buying a sandwich shop,” he answers wistfully, waving his hand in the air. Then he leans back, crosses his legs, and runs his forefinger across his bottom lip, just watching my reaction.

  “For me?” I question, even though I know I’m right.

  “Yes.” He grins triumphantly.

  “I don't want a sandwich shop,” I say petulantly, crossing my arms.

  “You don't?” His eyebrows raise, I have his complete attention.

  “No, if I was going into the food industry, I would want a restaurant. But we’ve already discussed this, the hours are dreadful, especially at weekends – I’d never get to see you!” I add mournfully.

  “Which is exactly why this place is perfect.” He tells me. Oh god!

  “You’ve already bought it, haven’t you?” I choke out. Tristan simply grins at me because Henrique has arrived with our drinks. He places my Cappuccino down in front of me, passes Tristan his coffee, then sits next to him.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Henrique says, nervously biting his nails.

  “Yes, sorry about the surprise visit, but something came up,” Tristan says.

  “Oh I see, is something wrong?” Henrique asks, looking even more concerned.

  “No, not at all,” Tristan replies. “Is everything set up your end?” He asks.

  Henrique nods. “Yes, thanks to you Mr Freeman, I can finally get him home.” Huh?I gaze quizzically at the young boy, then glance at Tristan, who very subtly shakes his head at me.

  Oh! What’s that all about?I decide I will question it later, and silently sip my Cappuccino while Henrique and Tristan talk politics, profit margins, and the best coffee beans to use...

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Tristan says his goodbye. “See you tomorrow to wrap everything up,” he says, getting to his feet. I stand too, and wait by the table.

  Henrique shakes his hand again. “Mr Freeman, I cannot thank you enough,” he says, and before I can stop him, he has turned around and wrapped up in a bear hug – What the fuck!

  “You have the most wonderful husband,” he gushes, I gaze wide eyed at Tristan. “Take care of him,” he adds, letting me go.

  Feeling bemused, I say nothing, and smile quizzically at the young boy.

  “It was nice to meet you Mrs Freeman,” he adds, then walks down the shop and into the back room. Tristan clasps my hand in his, and we walk out of the shop without a word said, except for the goodbye he gives to the blonde girl, who instantly turns scarlet.

  “Tristan, what the’ – His lips meet mine, instantly silencing me. Pulling back, with his arms tightly wrapped around my waist he whispers, “Thank you.”

  “What for?” I breathe, staring at his lips.

  “Playing the game, and not freaking out. Henrique’s had it really rough since his Dad died.”

  “His Dad died?” I balk.

  “Yes, unexpectedly. His mother wants to go home, back to Portugal, to bury him there. She has absolutely no idea about the business, so Henrique was pulled out of University to sort it, poor kid has spent months going through the books, only to find that his father was on the brink of bankruptcy.”

  My mouth pops open. “You’ve bought a shop that’s doing so badly, it’s almost’ – “No Coral, the shop isn’t doing too badly, needs renovating and the menu changing like you said, his father had a gambling problem, his personal finances are in ruins.” Tristan says, his brows pulling together. “The stress of being in so much debt is probably what gave him the heart attack!”

  I hear Henrique talking again – ‘Thanks to you Mr Freeman, I can finally get him home’

  “What did you do Tristan?” I whisper, gazing up at my personal angel.

  He smiles shyly at me. “I made a deal,” he says.

  “What kind of deal?” I whisper.

  Tristan sighs heavily. “That he knocked the price down on the business and in return I would, well, pay his University fees,” he says, shrugging slightly.

  “And?” I prompt.

  Tristan sighs again. “He’s a good lad, and his mother...well she’s devastated. Her dream was to retire in Portugal, go back
to her roots, but she can't do that unless I...intervened.”

  I swallow hard against the lump that’s formed. Tristan has to be an angel, who else would help complete strangers out?

  “So he put the shop up for sale and you enquired?” I say.

  “Yes, I told him if he slashed the price of the business, as it’s going to need money investing to get it back into profit, that I would help him and his mother instead.”

  “How have you helped his mother?” I ask, reaching up to stroke his cheek, gazing adoringly at my man, my husband. Tristan smiles his shy smile. “Tell me,” I push.

  “I have bought a very small cottage for his mother in Portugal. Paid for his father’s body to be shipped back, and the funeral so they can bury him there.”

  “Tristan!” I gasp.

  “It’s just good business sense,” he says, shrugging at me.

  “No it’s not!” I swoon. “You could have gone in there and just made a deal on the shop, but you didn’t! How did you find all this out?” I ask.

  “He broke down...poor kid’s missing his father, stressing about the shop, his mother, and well...he said he felt like his future was crashing down around him, that he’d never see University again.” I look like a fish right now, my mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. “But none of that is important Coral,” he adds.

  “Not important!” I scoff.

  “No, what is important,” he says turning me around to look at the shop again. “Is whether you can see yourself here,” he adds.

  Whoa! My own place, can I see myself here?

  “It’s only office hours darling, no evenings or weekends. Unless you wanted to open weekends and have someone run it for you,” Tristan suggests.

  I am speechless.

  “Coral, say something baby!”

  “Tristan...” Tears pool in my eyes, I turn and look up at my wonderful, caring, simply irresistible husband. “It’s magical Tristan,” I add.

  Tristan wraps his arms around me. I nuzzle my head in his chest, and wrap my arms tightly around him. It is magical that he’s done this, he’s really thought about it, and to have done that for Henrique and his mother - He is so sweet! I squeeze him tighter.

  Wow! – I have my own sandwich shop!

  The moment I think that ideas start flooding my mind, all the little things we can do, the little touches, little changes that will make a huge difference to the place – I think I can make a success of this!

  I lift my head and gaze up at Tristan. God I’m so in love with him! It’s ridiculous to feel this way!

  “Happy?” He asks, placing his hands on my cheeks.

  “Very, but a little scared,” I say.

  “Why?” He asks, his forehead creased in concern.

  “I have no idea how to run a business Tristan, cooking food yes, but’ – “You have no need to worry about that!” He interrupts.

  “I don't?” I squeak.

  “No baby, you’ve got me,” he says, smiling brightly at me. “Coral, do you really think I would just leave you to it?” I smile up at him feeling guilty. “Have a little faith,” he adds, running a cool, soft finger across my bottom lip. “I’ll teach you, but you’ll be the owner baby. You choose the hours you work. I can help you hire the best staff, it’s all up to you baby. It’s all your choice,” he adds.

  “Ok,” I whisper blinking up at his beautiful face. “Thank you husband, it’s perfect,” I add.

  “You, my darling wife, are most welcome.” His lips meet mine, kissing me sweetly.

  Ok, so maybe this is what he’s been up to over the past month, constantly in and out of his office at home, taking ‘private’ calls. He even banned me from going in there by teasing me and saying he had some top secret files I wasn’t allowed to see.

  In fact come to think of it, Stuarts been acting weird and secretive too. I’ll bet it’s all been about this, Tristan wouldn’t have wanted me to find out and spoil the surprise.

  I sigh blissfully, my loving husband – I still feel like I’m dreaming!

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  IS IT REALLY POSSIBLE TO BE THIS HAPPY? I mean, can you die of happiness? I have a wonderful husband, a man I can completely be myself with and still, he loves me, a man who is my home. We live in a wonderful house that shelters us, keeps us warm at night, protects us from the elements. I have a career I never thought I would ever have, and a life full of love, family and friends. So I’ll ask again, is it possible to die from being this blissfully happy?

  I can't help smiling at myself as I prop my feet up onto the table. I am in the sandwich shop, but I’m in the back room taking a break. I take a sip of my Cappuccino and marvel at the fact that I am here, that I own this place. It makes me think of my old job, and how Joe’s doing.

  After careful consideration of my suggestion to give Joe a chance, Tristan agreed to give Joe a trial. I trained her for a couple of weeks before I left, and so far, so good. Tristan said she’s doing really well. I think she’s pleased as punch that she was even considered for the position. But like Tristan, I think there’s certain people in life that deserve a break, and Joe is definitely one of them.

  I can't wait to see Tristan tonight. It’s his birthday in a month, and tonight I’ll be surprising him with my gift. A delicious shiver runs through me. I’ve bought him lots of little presents for on the day, and a weekends racing at Brand’s Hatch, I think he’ll love that. But only recently did I find out – from Edith – that Tristan’s always wanted to learn how to fly. That he’s actually quite fascinated with planes and has been since he was a child?

  I was really shocked when Edith told me this, and when I asked why he hasn’t delved further into this passion, she said she didn’t know. So, I’mreally hoping he’ll like the gift of flying lessons. It won’t be here though, as winter will soon be upon us, so I wanted somewhere with better weather. Carlos was the one that suggested Spain, so that’s where we are going for a week.

  Flights are booked, Joe has secretly blocked out his diary, and the tickets for the weeks flying course arrived in the post today – I bite my bottom lip feeling nervous. I really hope he likes it.

  I can't believe another month has passed by so quickly. However, I was wrong in thinking the sandwich shop surprise was what was taking Tristan away from me at home, he’s still in and out of his office – I’ve never known him be so busy, and kind of tense, so I’m really pleased we have this break coming up, he needs it.

  I did ask him last night what he’s up to though, hoping it’s not more surprises – I still haven’t got over the yacht - but apparently not. He said that he’s working on several property deals, that some of them are abroad, and that time zones suck!

  I laughed at his expression and let him stalk off into his office...

  IT’S JUST GONE SIX O’CLOCK BY THE TIME STUART DROPS ME OUTSIDE THE HOUSE. We were so busy today. I’m hoping that means we’ll be back in profit soon. I’ll have to ask Tristan to check it out for me. The moment I walk into the house, I know something isn’t right. The house is eerily dark and silent, and there’s no lights on anywhere. Edith isn’t in the kitchen, which she normally is at this time of night, and Tristan hasn’t come to greet me, which he always does when I arrive home. I frown and scan my surroundings, something...something’s wrong – But what? Why do I feel worried, on edge, like all my senses are on hyper alert.

  “Tristan?” I call out for him, my heart hammering against my chest.

  I hear footsteps in the kitchen, and I’m about to take a step forward, but to my complete and utter horror, Kane comes waltzing around the breakfast bar, a smug smile spread across his face.

  Fuck!What is he doing in our house? I glance at the alarm, the cover is down, and there’s no green light flashing. The police don't know we’ve intruders in our house – Fuck!

  I should be afraid, for myself, for Tristan, for Edith, but I’m not. My body instantly floods with adrenalin, fight or flight kicking in.All I feel is pure rage flooding thro
ugh my veins – Rage and hatred for this evil twisted freak.

  I grit my teeth and glare back at him – What the fuck is he doing in my house!

  I take a quick snap shot of the room, there’s no sign of a struggle, so where the fuck is Tristan?

  Kane stops at least four feet away from me. “So glad you’re home,” he says, smiling brightly.

  I instantly realise I’m being flanked from behind. I drop my bag, clench my fists, and step my feet apart ready to fight them off – Damn, I wish I wasn’t in a skirt and heels right now!

  I don't panic though, because any minute now Stuart’s going to come through that door, and they’ll be screwed.

  I grit my teeth and glare at Kane. “Where’s Tristan?” I growl.

  He laughs, and takes another step forward, I take a step back in response.

  “I thought you might ask that.” He cracks a smile again.“Careful boys, this one knows how to fight,” he adds, then nods to the men behind me.

  The two men lunge and try to grab hold of me. Will always told me that screaming is useless, that it just wastes energy, so I fight, with all of my might. I manage to pull my arm free from the guy on my left, I turn and slam the heel of my hand into his nose. I don't think I shoved it into his brain, but he looks stunned for a moment as blood starts pouring out his nostrils, then he passes out on the floor – One down!

  The other guy still has my other arm in his grip, so I crouch down, pulling his arm as I do, and go to flip him over my back, but he’s evidently trained in this kind of fighting, so he counteracts me, by twisting back on my arm and kneeing me in the stomach – I groan as all the air leaves my lungs.

  In the next second he flips me onto my stomach, smashing me to the floor, he crushes his knee in between my shoulder blades and pulls my arms back – Fuck that hurts!

  But I don't scream, I won't scream. I pull my leg back, kicking him hard at the bottom of his spine with the heel of my foot, but he just twists and rams his foot down on the back of my knees. I’m pinned to the floor – Fuck!

  Then I feel my hands being tied – Shit!