With Her Last Breath

by Cait London

  This man wasn’t the lover of hours before, the weary warrior grateful for a warm loving welcome; he was a thunder-cloud, waiting to shoot lightning bolts. He surged out of the bed, stalking across the bedroom as if he wanted to tear something—someone apart. “Let me get this straight—she’s got a private wine cellar that she’s selling back to me at cost…when I can make payment or not…and she’s ready to title those twenty acres back to me? There has to be a hitch. She’s got something else going on.”

  Maggie sat lotus-style on the bed and adjusted the sheet around her nude body. “Vinnie. That’s what she’s got going on. Think of it as a family thing—”

  “Lorna? Vinnie? Together? That way? You’ve got to be kidding. Why didn’t I know?”

  She felt sorry for Nick. He had a lot to cope with—coming to terms with a woman he didn’t like and discovering the said woman was involved with his own cousin. She ignored his shocked look and continued, “It’s complicated. I checked the cases and dates. It’s your best reds. If you can make substitutes on the orders you’ve already taken—”

  “Lorna and Vinnie. Lorna and Vinnie…” Nick stared at Maggie as if he didn’t know her. “Who are you?”

  She tilted her head. Nick was really cute with his hair standing out in clumps and that owlish, what-planet-am-I-on look.

  He gestured to the bed, to the dishes of food placed on the floor as they made love once again. The owlish look slid into a grim one. “So that’s what the little-woman act was about? To soften me up for one of Lorna’s deals?”

  “Vinnie thought he was protecting her by keeping their secret. I called and convinced him otherwise. She’s not like you think.”

  He glared at her. “I’ve known her for her whole life. Believe me, Lorna never gives without getting. You convinced my cousin to come out with whatever thing they have going on?”

  Nick’s you-traitor look irritated. “Vinnie loves her and she loves him.”

  “That barracuda can love?”

  “They’ll probably get married. She’ll be in the family. They want children and they’ll be your cousins. She’ll be at all the family gatherings.”

  Looking like a warrior who faced a losing battle, Nick sat down hard on the bed, staring off into space. “I’ll talk to Vinnie.”

  “They’ve been together for years. Lorna is his mystery girlfriend. They kickbox and work on cars. That black eye he’s wearing and the dead-dog-tired look come from being with her all night. She wants to be more housewifey and make a home for Vinnie. If I can help, I will.”

  His abrupt curse hit the shadows. “I don’t trust her. What did Lorna want in return? Lorna always wants something in return.”

  “Secrecy. Only those who need to know in on it. To run Journeys and be a working girl to show Vinnie that she’s just not a rich playgirl. To learn how to cook from your mother.”

  Nick’s expression swung back to the lost-on-what-planet look. “My mother? My family is involved in whatever she’s pulling?”

  Maggie couldn’t help adding a tease, “Lorna is sorry if your feelings are hurt. You were just a challenge. She offered to play-act out a scene in which she dumped you, if it would help you save face.”

  With a loud, frustrated groan, Nick lay down beside her, his hands folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “You sure know how to lay a proposition on the table. Or in bed.”

  She smoothed his chest with her hand. “I enjoyed every minute, but even without Lorna’s offer, I wanted to be here tonight for you.”

  He covered her hand with his. “You actually like her, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. And knowing more about Lorna’s life, I saw more of my mistakes with Glenda. I protected her too much—my little sister—I should have let her fight more of her own battles earlier, so that when put to the test, she would have had the inner strength she needed.”

  Nick drew Maggie down to him, holding her close. “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself about your sister, Maggie. It’s all about choices. She made the wrong ones. You just did the best you could.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  She listened to Nick’s heartbeat beneath her cheek and the stillness. “You’re not going to let Lorna help, are you?”

  “No. She’s playing you. She’s got an angle in there somewhere, and she’s better left alone.”

  Maggie lifted slightly to look at him. “Nick, listen to me. Pride is one thing. Saving a business you’ve struggled and worked for, and that your grandfather had hoped for, is another. At least think about it.”

  Nick eased from her and pulled on his jeans, silently leaving the house.

  Aching for him, Maggie climbed the steps to the lighthouse. Nick needed time alone, balancing Lorna’s offer against his pride. The wind played in Maggie’s hair and the sheet over her body. She listened to the peaceful tinkling of Celeste’s chimes and prayed that Nick would consider Lorna’s offer and that his business would survive the blow.

  Maggie also prayed that his anger at her would ease. Nick’s silence hadn’t been encouraging.

  The lake spread black in the night, a trail of silver cutting through the waves. Scout whined softly and leaned against Maggie. With her hand in Scout’s thick coat Maggie wondered about Monique who had died on the lake, about Celeste who always seemed near, and about Nick’s Alyssa, always hovering close to him.

  When Maggie turned toward land, Nick stood amid the grapes that would be ready for September harvest. They wouldn’t wait.

  Once he’d sold land to pay for Alyssa’s medical expenses. Now, to save what he had built, he would have to bend his pride once more.

  Enveloped by shadows, Brent held the earpiece of the bugging device to his ear. Planted on an overhead light fixture, the device had proven invaluable when he was blackmailing for his deals, and he was never without it. Ed wouldn’t suspect that he’d been followed, that Brent could easily leave his room by simply picking the lock. Through the window, he watched the man inside the salvage yard garage—it always paid to know what the underlings around him were doing.

  Ed was talking to himself. “Waste not, want not, my ma always used to say.”

  Brent frowned; Ed had somehow known where Leo’s car had been stashed, in that old garage. The bartender had collected the car and would likely sell off the parts.

  And whatever Ed’s mother used to say was familiar; their mothers were of the same bottom-grade ilk. But Brent had raised himself above the low-class start he had in life. He sneered at Ed, who still showed his shack-town roots.

  Ed guzzled beer from a bottle. He ripped off the tarp covering the new sports car, the one Leo had rented in Louisville, Kentucky, and set to work. “Good old Leo. By coming in from Louisville the same as The Crazy, and driving up here he took care of any clues that might put him in this area. Have to give The Crazy credit for suggesting it to good old Leo. There are always buyers for these babies. I’ll repaint and sell to a customer wanting a high-class model at a low price.”

  Disturbed from its nest, a huge spider crawled on top of the shiny hood.

  Ed’s fear rose and swelled and screamed, echoing in the cluttered garage. Picking up a bat, Ed pounded the hood of the car, the spider skittering across it to disappear within.

  Panting fiercely and winded, Ed stood back. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and blinked at the car. The red shiny surface was battered; the spider reappeared and then returned inside the car. Ed grabbed a can of insect spray and began fogging the car. “If the witch woman is haunting me, I’m finishing her off for good.”

  Overcome by the fumes, he coughed and staggered back. “Another time, Celeste,” he said as he flung the tarp back over the car and left the garage.

  With a keen distaste for the garage’s junk and smell, Brent eased inside moments later. He held a handkerchief over his nose as he lifted the tarp and viewed Leo’s rented car.

  The battered hood pinpointed Ed’s desperate fears. “Always interesting to know what they fear,”
Brent crooned softly. “Well, this is coming along nicely, Maggie. He’s doing all the work and will take the blame for what happens to you. Too bad he won’t be around to enjoy it.”

  SEVENTEEN

  “I don’t want you doing what you did for him.” Nick slapped the file of Lorna’s receipts onto the kitchen table, and the plant Maggie had been tending there quivered in the fragrance of morning coffee as he continued, “I should be taking care of you, not the other way around. And there are plants everywhere. This place looks like a jungle.”

  He lifted the damp cloth over her unbaked and rising cinnamon rolls. “You don’t need to get up early and start cooking. I don’t need—”

  Nick’s bristling, laying-down-the-law male role grated on Maggie’s nerves, so she said, “The cinnamon rolls are for Eugene. Not you.”

  “Oh…well, okay.” He sounded disappointed.

  But Maggie knew that the cinnamon rolls or the plants weren’t Nick’s real problem. Maggie almost felt sorry for him—a big, powerful male locked in a battle with necessity and fighting his macho instincts.

  He studied her coolly. His inspection of the overlarge cotton shirt and sweat pants she had borrowed was so long and thorough that Maggie shifted uncomfortably. “My other clothes are in the camper. It’s locked, you know—a great big padlock.”

  Nick ignored her reminder that he had moved and locked the camper. He leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “This is what you do, isn’t it? You are a facilitator, smoothing out other people’s lives. Like Vinnie and Lorna. You just had to step in that, didn’t you? What happened to Miss Mind Your Own Business?”

  Maggie removed the last of the plant’s dried leaves. From the challenging look of the man who had loved her well last night, she needed to smooth out her own life. “I’ve learned that it doesn’t pay. I can’t make life choices for other people. I don’t want to hear any more of your groaning about Vinnie and Lorna. They are in love, Nick, whether you like it or not. I wasn’t going to get involved with Blanchefleur, but now I am.”

  “You are involved with me. We’re lovers, Maggie. I want to marry you, and I won’t be placed into the same category as your ex-husband. I won’t have you making-do for me or cowing down to Lorna to help me.”

  “Leave Ryan out of this. I am not arguing with you. You have a simple choice, Nick, to let her help you or not. I think Lorna would have made the offer whether or not I was involved—because of Vinnie and because she’s basically sweet.” Maggie didn’t want to think about how she’d given her life to a man who, in the end, cared only for himself.

  Her distrust of giving herself totally to her new relationship to Nick had definite ties to her past, and they both knew it.

  Nick walked out of the kitchen into the early dawn. He stood with his hands on his hips surveying the vineyard.

  She understood his dilemma, pride battling survival; she’d faced enough of that herself. So he was angry that she’d been the messenger of an offer he didn’t want to accept.

  On the other hand, she wasn’t happy with his high-handed macho-man protect-the-little-lady attitude, either. It was her camper padlocked and perched against his home. If he needed thinking room; he’d have it.

  She went out onto the deck and held her palm upright. “I want the key to that padlock.”

  He turned to glower at her. “Why?”

  “Because that’s my home, that’s why. I want to be in my house.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. It’s locked for your own protection. The police are trying to locate Leo. He does wear size tens, the same size as the footprints in the wine. He could be anywhere, and that camper is like a sardine can. He could break in—”

  This time, Maggie’s hands were on her hips, her legs braced apart. “Stop deciding my life for me, Nick.”

  The sweet morning air quivered between them, and Scout whined softly, looking from one human to the other.

  Neither one looked at Dante, who had just pulled up in his pickup. He walked to the deck and studied them. “Problems?”

  “Not a one,” Nick said curtly.

  “He’s shoving me around and I don’t like it,” Maggie said.

  “She’s being stubborn. They still haven’t located Leo, and I don’t want to take the chance that he might be after her.” Nick glanced at Vinnie’s black van, which had just pulled beside the other vehicles. Lorna was in the passenger seat. His short flat curse said he could have done without the visit. “What are they doing here?”

  “I invited them. You are going to be nice.”

  “This should be interesting,” Dante commented, then raised his eyebrows at Maggie’s silent warning.

  “Dante, would you please go in the kitchen and put my cinnamon rolls in the oven? Just follow the directions in the cookbook next to the stove. Make some icing while you’re at it, please. As soon as you can, bring out some coffee and juice for Nick’s guests. You can serve the rolls when they’re done.”

  Dante looked blank for a moment, then he said firmly, as if reaffirming himself, “I can do this. I can do this…About Leo. Here’s Lorenzo’s update: Three days ago, Leo flew into Louisville and rented a sports car. It’s likely that he did that as a diversion in case anyone was checking on his whereabouts. From there, it’s an easy shot up to Michigan and Blanchefleur. They’ve alerted the state patrols. His friends said he was pretty ticked over what happened when he was here and that he was out for payback. He’s a size ten lead, anyway. And they can’t locate that car.”

  Nick reached to scoop Maggie protectively against him. Unused to anyone’s help, Maggie floundered between comforting him and the decision at hand. Nick’s scowl at Vinnie and Lorna wasn’t friendly. Maggie decided that Nick was on his own, and moved away from him.

  “Hey, man,” Vinnie said as he held Lorna’s hand. On the deck now, Nick’s cousin had an air of a man squiring a lady and proud of it. In a white ruffled peasant blouse and a long cotton floral skirt and sandals, Lorna looked feminine and wary; her hair was now a soft brown.

  While Nick stood immobile, his scowl locked in place, his arms crossed over his bare chest, and his jeaned legs braced apart, Maggie smiled brightly. “Hi. We’re just about to have breakfast. Dante is in fixing it now. Have a seat.”

  She noted Lorna’s nervous glance at Nick and decided that powerful chest would upset any woman. Maggie hurried inside, took one of his shirts from the dryer, shook it briefly to remove the wrinkles, and found Dante looking at her. “What’s up?”

  “Lorna can help Nick and he’s not being friendly.”

  Maggie briefly described Lorna’s offer, and Dante whistled. “Good luck. He won’t buy it though.”

  “Just don’t ruin the cinnamon rolls, will you? There’s a serving tray in the closet. Be sure to bring napkins. Put the rolls on a plate, the juice in a pitcher, and don’t forget the forks. If the situation gets difficult, get lost. Do laundry or something in here.”

  Dante had that disgusted look, the same one as when Sissy asked him to change his nephew’s diapers. Clearly Alessandro men had definite ideas about man-woman roles.

  Outside, Nick wasn’t budging. Maggie pinched his butt lightly, and when he scowled down at her, she held up the shirt. He put it on, but left the buttoning to Maggie. She added a little warning jerk and a look when adjusting his collar. Nick’s dark eyes locked with hers, then shifted over her head to Lorna.

  “What’s the deal?” he asked abruptly.

  Vinnie moved closer, protectively, to his girlfriend, just as Nick had done with Maggie earlier. “It’s a woman thing, man. They do weird stuff, but that’s what makes them what they are. You gotta appreciate the little differences in their thinking. She could make a bundle off that aged wine, but instead she’s following her heart.”

  “Sit down, please?” Maggie offered as she nudged Nick to a big wooden lawn chair and pushed him. He eased down into the chair as if he would make up his own mind about doing anything, however everyday common.
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br />   To ensure Nick wouldn’t move, Maggie sat on his lap. Vinnie’s arm went around Lorna’s shoulders as they sat on a plastic love seat. “Now this is real nice,” Vinnie said in the obviously tense silence.

  “I like the plants,” Lorna said quietly.

  “They’re Celeste’s. We put some here in the house and on the front porch. The wind chime was hers, too. I like to think of her as always being with me. Would you like a start from them? That would give you a little piece of what she loved.”

  “I’d love that. Thank you.”

  Another long silence, then Nick asked Lorna, “What’s the catch?”

  Obviously nervous, Lorna shot back. “You’ve got the offer. Are you interested, or not? Hey, bud, I can always sell that inventory to someone else—”

  “Now, hon—” Vinnie began.

  “Pretty day, isn’t it?” Maggie said, hoping to lighten the moment as she placed her arm around Nick’s tense shoulders. “Nick?”

  “You’d really do that, wouldn’t you, Lorna? Sell my wine to someone else, so you can make a profit?”

  “Hey, bud. It’s my wine. I bought it.”

  “You’ll never be the cook my mother is.”

  “You just try me. I’m already planning a family do at Vinnie’s, and I won’t have it catered, either.”

  “‘A family do?’” Nick repeated harshly. “If you think that I’m coming to anything you—”

  “Well, this is going well, don’t you think?” Maggie asked in her best cheerful tone.

  Vinnie shook his head. “I know them both. It’s just something they have to go through before making the deal. Both stiff-necked as hell. But Lorna’s neck is a whole lot prettier and sweeter and—”

  He leaned to nuzzle Lorna whose frown gave way to a girlish squeal of delight.

  This time, it was Nick’s turn to shake his head. “Sure. Why not,” he said in a doomed voice. “It’s a deal. I’ll try an extenuating circumstance plea with the state board to iron out legalities of transfer and resale.”