by Joanna Wayne
Their inspiration gave me guidance.
I cherish the wonderful blessings of the life
Nathanial and I lived together, but if offered the chance to live it over again, I’d say no.
Our beloved son Micah brought us undreamed-of joy, far more than I deserved. But the pain of losing him at such an early age was almost too much to bear. I could never live through that kind of agony again.
Losing all contact with his daughters made his death even more heartbreaking. It was years before I forgave Sophie, but I finally realize that she was only trying to protect Jacinth and Caitlyn.
My greatest regret is that I failed my stepson.
His was a sickness of the soul and mind. I should have insisted Nathanial get treatment for him.
When I finally did make the decision to have him committed to a mental facility, he found out and ran away to Alaska. His blood is on my hands.
My life is now nearing the end. I go with God and joy that I will soon be reunited with Nathanial, Micah and all the Villarés that have gone before me.
I bequeath the house on Esplanade to my granddaughters in hopes that they find comfort and inspiration in understanding that the house has known joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, life and death.
But, above all, the Villaré Mansion on Esplanade Avenue in the heart of New Orleans, Louisiana, has known love.
Tears fell from Jacinth’s eyes as she read the final pages of Marie’s detailed journal. She and Nathanial had faced daunting challenges, yet their devotion to each other had remained strong until the end. Theirs was a true love story.
And in spite of what was recorded in the family Bible, they had not been brother and sister. Marie’s mother, Elizabeth, had so desperately wanted a baby girl that when one of their young servants died in childbirth, leaving the infant an orphan, Elizabeth had taken the baby as her own.
But after reading her memoires, it seemed to Jacinth that Marie was more Villaré than any of her adopted brothers except perhaps for Nathanial.
The other brothers had moved away and willingly given up any claim to the Villaré property, the estate having dwindled to financial ruin by then.
There were many references to the sapphire brooch, but no mention of who should receive the valuable heirloom. Perhaps Marie had intended to take the secret of its whereabouts with her to the grave.
Jacinth understood her grandmother much better now, but she still had questions that might never be answered.
Marie had written that Sophie fled with her two daughters after Micah’s death in fear that whoever had killed Micah might harm them.
But if that were true, why hadn’t Jacinth’s mother returned after the killer had gone to prison? Why had she refused to ever speak of their father’s family or of New Orleans?
Jacinth would love to share all she’d learned with Nick, but it was too late to bother him tonight. She should go to bed herself. Tomorrow would likely be another grinding day.
Perhaps she should ask Nick to take her fishing.
But getting close to Nick only to have him turn away from her was entirely too unsettling. So no matter that the attraction between them was breathtaking and mind-boggling…
No matter that his kisses drove her out of her mind…
No matter that he was so protective of her that he wouldn’t leave her alone in this house for a second…
When the danger was past, she knew he would just walk away.
What would the brave Victoria Villaré have to say about that?
Victoria would have marched right down to Nick’s room and demanded satisfaction, that’s what.
So what was stopping Jacinth from doing the same?
Jacinth hesitated for less than a minute before she stepped out of her practical cotton pajamas with the cute little bunnies. The she went to the closet and wrapped her naked body in her luxurious silk robe.
Her insides quaked as she padded down the hallway to the next bedroom. She didn’t even bother to knock, but just stepped inside—to an empty room and a bed that had not been slept in.
But Nick wouldn’t have left the house without telling her. He was likely downstairs on the internet or watching TV. Still, the fight had been knocked out of her.
She started back to her room, but Sin was yowling about something near the head of the stairs. When Jacinth walked over to check on her, Sin quit yowling, ignored Jacinth and pranced away.
“What’s with Sin?” Nick called from the foot of the stairs.
Jacinth’s pulse quickened. She didn’t respond to Nick’s question, but she struck her sultriest pose—at least she hoped it was sultry—and paraded down the winding staircase.
Nick was still watching when she reached the landing. Jacinth gave one quick glance toward Victoria, who had been returned to her place of honor.
Then she dropped her robe, stepped over it and vamped her way to Nick.
Chapter Fifteen
Desire walloped Nick, knocking his feet practically out from under him as he watched Jacinth descend the wide staircase. All his pistons fired at once. His body quaked.
Don’t do it, he told himself.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
But then he opened his arms and Jacinth stepped inside them. The need he’d been fighting ever since he’d first laid eyes on her exploded inside him.
He kissed her over and over, ravaging her mouth, and still he couldn’t get enough. Her salty, sweet taste intoxicated him. Her thrusting tongue and the mingling of their breaths set him on fire.
He splayed his hands across her back, reveling in the softness of her bare skin. He inched them lower, his fingers circling and kneading until he cupped her firm buttocks in his hands.
She arched toward him, and he lifted her only to release her so that she rode down the hard, throbbing length of his erection. Even through his jeans, the movement delivered excruciating stimulation.
He put his mouth to her ear, nibbling and sucking her lobe. “You are driving me absolutely mad, Jacinth.”
“Don’t stop, Nick. Please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t think I can.”
Tormented, he took her in his arms and started to carry her to her bed.
“Not upstairs, Nick. It’s too far.” She planted kisses on his neck, wantonly interspersing the sweet kisses with devouring sucks and nibbles.
He carried her into the den and laid her on the furry green rug near the hearth. The logs in the stone fireplace weren’t lit, but the room was steamy warm.
Jacinth stretched out on her back, her knees bent, her triangle of dark hair in full, inviting view. Nick propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze soaking up every inch of her. She was beautiful, from the thick, silky locks that brushed her cheeks to her painted red toenails.
But he’d been with gorgeous women before. None had ever affected him like Jacinth did. It was all he could do to keep his hands off her if they just passed in the hall. He couldn’t look at her mouth without wanting to taste her lips.
He’d physically ached to make love to her since the night they met.
But the need to protect her was even stronger. To protect her from a brutal killer. To protect her from himself.
What the hell was he doing now?
He rolled away.
Jacinth tugged him back. She took his hand and guided it to the swell of first one perfect breast and then the other. Her nipples grew hard and erect beneath his thumb.
“Suck them, Nick. Please, suck them.”
Desire ran roughshod over him. He cupped both her breasts and played with them each in turn. Tasting, nibbling, sucking as Jacinth moaned softly and writhed with pleasure.
Then she took his hand again. Holding it in both of hers, she guided it to the slick opening between her thighs. Her fingers tangled with his, both of them exploring and dipping into the heated wetness.
With the pressure bordering on agonizing, Nick extricated his hand from hers so that he could unzip his jeans. He
managed to wiggle out of them and his shorts while Jacinth tugged the T-shirt over his head.
Once he was naked beside her, she cradled his erection in both hands, stroking its burgeoning length.
“Jacinth, if you—”
She kissed his words away and then touched her lips to the tip of his erection. Blood rushed to his head in dizzying waves.
“I need you inside me, Nick. I need you the way I’ve never needed any other man.”
Reasons he shouldn’t do this flooded his mind, but Jacinth’s hands and mouth were doing all the wrong things in all the right ways.
He was going crazy with wanting her. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to think. All he wanted was Jacinth.
He shifted on top of her and she wrapped her gorgeous legs around him. Desire roared through his veins as he thrust his full, throbbing length deep inside her and let the maddening hunger for her have its way.
JACINTH’S PULSE FINALLY stilled. Passion spent, she settled into the afterglow. She’d never been to such heights of exhilaration before. Had never allowed herself to let go of all her inhibitions and make love with every fiber of her being.
She couldn’t have done it with anyone but Nick. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man.
Tough. Indomitable. Exciting. Sexy. Romantic.
But he was also a protector, determined to keep her safe whether she appreciated his efforts or not. And even though she knew he wanted her, he’d been dogged about keeping her at arm’s distance.
Thankfully, they’d passed that hurdle tonight.
She cuddled against him.
Nick rolled off the rug, then stood and pulled on his jeans. When he turned and faced her, he looked like a man standing in front of a firing squad.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice a low, shaky whisper.
“We have to talk.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nick hated himself for what he’d done. He hated himself even more for what he had to do now. Making love with Jacinth had been even more perfect than he’d imagined in his wildest fantasies. And he’d had countless fantasies starring her over the past few days.
If a genie appeared at this minute and offered Nick three wishes, his choices would be easy. He’d wish for Jacinth to be in his bed, in his life and in his heart for the rest of his life.
But there were no genies. There were just the hard, punishing realities of life.
“I’m not who you think I am, Jacinth.”
“You’re married. I knew it.”
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’m not married. Just let me get through this, Jacinth.”
“Please do, Nick—if that’s your name.”
“It’s my name. I’m Nick Bruno, the only son of Elton Bruno. My father has spent the last twenty-one years in prison for the murder of Micah Villaré.”
JACINTH’S CHEST CONSTRICTED. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move.
The shock slowly dissolved, replaced by blinding fury. “Get out of my house, Nick.”
“Let me explain, Jacinth.”
“I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”
“My father didn’t kill your father. He’s innocent. I have to find a way to prove that.”
She stood, grabbed a throw from the sofa and wrapped it around her naked body. Still, she’d never felt so exposed or so horribly defiled.
“You knew I lived here when you rented the Findleys’ carriage house. You insinuated yourself into my life from that very first night. Even the kiss was part of your plan, wasn’t it?”
“Falling for you was never part of the plan.”
“What do you want from me, Nick? To plead for your father’s parole while mine’s bones lie at the bottom of a muddy bayou? That’s it, isn’t it?”
“I wanted the truth, Jacinth. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And how did you expect to get that from me?”
“All I know is that someone knows the truth and they didn’t come forward. Your mother ran away even before your father’s memorial service.”
“She was afraid.”
“Afraid of whom? Certainly not my father. He was arrested almost immediately. Yet Sophie never once returned to New Orleans. You said yourself she never even wanted to speak of it or of Micah’s family.”
Jacinth started to shake, the anger boiling inside her. “You planned to use me to help pin Micah’s murder on my mother. Now that she’s dead, you’d besmirch her reputation and desecrate everything she’s ever touched in her life, including Caitlyn and me.
“And I played right into your hands. Falling for you. Throwing myself at you. Forcing you to make love with me. And it was just part of your game.”
“You know that’s not true, Jacinth. There’s no way you could believe that what we just shared wasn’t real. I…” His words faltered.
“Get out, Nick.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jacinth. Things are too up in the air with the murders and heating up fast.”
“The police have made an arrest.”
“They’ve arrested a suspect. They have no proof that the real killer is not still out there. And if he is, he believes you have a three-quarter-million-dollar brooch that he’s willing to kill for.”
“I’ll hire someone else to protect me.”
“Fine. But until he shows, I’m on duty and I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Because you think my getting killed will blow your scheme?”
“Because I don’t think I’d want to keep living if I let that monster get to you.”
Traitorous tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to fall for Nick’s lies again. She grabbed the heavy brass lamp from the table, yanking the cord from the outlet as she did.
“Get out, or I swear I’ll throw this at you.”
“Be reasonable, Jacinth. You know I won’t—”
She threw the lamp as hard as she could, not at Nick but at the marble fireplace.
The crash echoed through the house as Jacinth turned and ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. Her shattered heart stayed behind, the pieces nestled in the rug in her den.
NICK LET HIMSELF out the door and locked it behind him. He didn’t want to chance Jacinth’s coming out of her room later and finding him still in the house. It would upset her all over again.
He’d handled everything wrong. He’d known Jacinth would feel betrayed by his lies when she found out that he was Elton Bruno’s son. And his asinine comments about her mother definitely hadn’t helped his cause.
And all of it coming right after they’d made the most passionate love of his life. Now she even believed that was a lie. She hated him and probably had every reason to.
Not that it would have changed anything, but if he was going to tell her the truth, he should have told her the full truth.
He should have told her that he loved her.
Chapter Seventeen
Something hairy crept up his leg. Likely a spider that had crawled from beneath the dry, brown leaves at the foot of the tree. He squashed it between his jeans and his flesh without letting it break his concentration.
The front door to the decrepit Villaré mansion had just opened.
He watched as Nick Bruno stepped out and then locked the door behind him. Evidently, Jacinth’s protector had decided she no longer needed his constant observation. After all, the man they believed had killed last fall’s three luscious victims was in jail.
Nick cut across the lawn toward the Findley property. Jacinth Villaré was finally alone.
Tonight he’d finally revisit his lovely bones and add another skull to his collection. And while he was there, he’d retrieve the family heirloom that should have gone to him, the same way the Villaré house should be his.
He would give up the house. He would not give up the brooch. The money he’d get from it would buy him a new life somewhere far away from New Orleans. Maybe in Alaska.
&
nbsp; Bodies decayed far more slowly in the cold.
Chapter Eighteen
Jacinth lay listless on the bed. Her body felt totally drained, but her tear-swollen eyes refused to close.
She had no one to blame for this but herself. Emboldened by Marie’s diary and Victoria’s inspiration, Jacinth had taken chances with her heart that she’d have never taken before.
She’d never make that mistake again.
Yet making love with Nick had been the most exciting, thrilling, heart-stopping moments of her life. How could she be sorry for that?
And how would she ever forget his smile, his cocky swagger, his touch, his kiss? How would she ever stop aching for Nick?
The anger dissolved into a pain so intense her heart felt as if it were being ripped from her chest. How could this possibly hurt so much?
Jacinth was startled by the most forlorn yowl she’d ever heard come from Sin. The yowl persisted, growing louder each time.
Jacinth put on her pajamas and jumped up to rescue the curious feline from whatever catastrophe she’d gotten herself into this time. She opened her bedroom door and looked down the dimly lit hallway. No Sin in sight.
But the musty odor was back, more overpowering than before.
Her bare feet padding on the polished wood, Jacinth followed Sin’s cries to Marie’s bedroom. Sin had somehow pushed the door shut again.
Jacinth turned the knob, flicked on the light and stepped into the bedroom. Sin was not alone.
“Finally, we meet.”
Jacinth tried to run, but the man grabbed her by her hair and dragged her back into the bedroom. When she tried to break free again, he shoved her to the floor and put a heavy booted foot to her chest.
“That’s no way to treat guests to the Villaré mansion.”
Paralyzing fear swept through her. “Who are you?”
“Your long-lost half uncle. Your father must have spoken of me. Oh, that’s right. Micah didn’t live to talk. We were all so sad to see him go.”