by Leigh, Lora
He brought to mind the memory of her naked body. How he had loved her body, curvy and warm, fitting against him perfectly. The bare soft flesh between her thighs had been devoid of curls, so he’d had no idea what the natural color should be.
And God, she looked young. The makeup she had worn had made her look older, more experienced. He knew she had been eighteen when they married, and he was suddenly desperately aware of how young she had really been.
At twenty-six, she still looked like a kid without the shield of cosmetics to add maturity to her still unlined face. But the grief was there. It was thick and dark in her eyes, in the tightly controlled line of her lips, the stiff set of her shoulders before she disappeared beneath the car.
He drew in a deep hard breath as the mechanics stared back at him, watching him as Sabella disappeared beneath the car. Their expressions were wary, part relief, part concern. They weren’t the same men who had worked here when he left, they were unknowns and unknowns were always the enemy. And he would never forget that only one, the youngest, had stepped forward to protect Sabella while the others stood back.
“She’s not alone anymore,” he growled, knowing the fury that roughened his voice now. “Get your asses in there and finish the work now, or get your stuff and get out. I want every vehicle in that damned bay finished before any of you go home tonight, or the only one I want to see in the morning is this one.” He stabbed his finger imperiously toward Toby. “And your ass belongs in the office, if I’m not mistaken.”
Toby swallowed tightly, his brown eyes flickering in indecision toward the garage where Sabella had disappeared. It was obvious he was more concerned about leaving her undefended than he was about his job.
“Go, boy,” he snarled. “We’ll discuss details later.” His gaze swung to the other men, watching as they shifted nervously, their oil-streaked expressions and wary eyes staying trained on him.
“Make your choice now,” he snapped. “And make sure you make the right one.”
He didn’t wait for their decisions. He made for the garage, striding straight to the line of clipboards on the workstation and grabbing the first one. It was time to get to work.
He wasn’t fooling himself; after the others had left, Sabella would let that temper he knew she had, erupt. He’d only seen it once before in their marriage. The day he had made the mistake of telling her she couldn’t do something. She had taught him fast and hard exactly what happened when he tried to control her.
Control came naturally to SEALs. It was a part of who they were and what made them so efficient. So it wasn’t unexpected that the night she had arranged to meet some of her girlfriends for drinks and dinner, he had told her she couldn’t go. He wanted her home with him. He’d been horny, and he wanted his wife. He didn’t want her at the local watering hole together with a bunch of women and the men there lusting after her.
She’d stared back at him silently for long moments then continued to inform him where she would be and when she would be home.
Dammit, Bella, you can stay home tonight. With me.
He’d barely ducked in time to miss the salt shaker that had been aimed a little too close to his head. Then his sweet, soft-spoken little Southern angel had erupted.
Flushed, furious, she had proceeded to lay down the law regarding their relationship, and by time she stalked out of the house, ass twitching beneath her jeans like an enraged little hen, he’d had his tail tucked between his legs despite the fact that he had informed her to just stay the night with her damned friends. He’d be fine without her.
Two o’clock that morning, he’d driven around town until he found her car, parked at the house of one of those friends. He’d carried his tipsy little wife out of the house, put her in his truck, and driven her home. And he’d never made that mistake again.
And now, after hearing that muted, smothered little sound from beneath the car, coming from the woman he wondered if he had even known as his wife, he realized that there was a chance Sabella had held as much back from him as he had held back from her.
Because he hadn’t had nearly enough of her before he had “died.” He hadn’t touched her in the ways he’d wanted to, even then. The darkness that filled him had always been waiting for an outlet, he realized. And now it was focused on one, tiny, too independent little woman. A woman who deserved far better than she was about to get.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was closing on seven that evening, the brilliance of the sun was fading and easing over the mountains as the mechanics left, staring back at Noah, as though afraid to leave her there with him.
At least the sheriff hadn’t shown up, which meant Mike wasn’t pressing charges. Yet. His truck had been delivered to the bank while he was still there, and if luck was on her side, she wouldn’t have to deal with him again for a while.
Noah Blake, on the other hand, she was more than ready to deal with. The blood had pumped furiously through her veins all day, leaving her nerves heightened, a feeling almost like excitement digging sharp claws into her chest.
He had worked hard, steadily, and kept the other men working faster. But she didn’t need him there. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t need him interfering with the structured, ordered existence she had created for herself. And she didn’t want the excitement or the feeling of tension she could feel tightening inside her.
The men working for her would accept taking orders from her eventually or she would do as she had done the past three years. Fire their asses and hire others. She’d fired plenty of them since taking over, another here and there didn’t make a difference to her.
Toby delayed as long as he could until Sabella had to push him out the door before turning to face Noah. She jerked the money bag from the desk and shoved it in her purse before slinging the leather bag over her shoulder and glaring back at him.
This was it. He could get the hell right back out of her life now and she could stop feeling so alive.
“When you see Rory, tell him I want to talk to him. Immediately,” she snapped. “And if he isn’t back to work tomorrow, then as far as I’m concerned he doesn’t have a job any more than you have one. I won’t have a maniac working in my garage and attacking my customers.” She held a hand up as he started to speak. “Whether they deserve it or not.”
He stared back at her, his eyes raging, wild, twisting with color in an expression that could have been carved from stone.
His gaze flicked over her body and she flushed. She could feel her own hardened nipples beneath her shirt and bra. She could feel the flesh between her thighs tingling and she hated it. She hated feeling that and she hated him for making her feel it.
Her gaze flickered to the parking lot as a vehicle pulled up and she almost grimaced. She’d forgotten about Duncan. Nice, safe, easygoing Duncan Sykes with his dark blond hair, brown eyes, and steady smile. He wasn’t dangerous. He didn’t have the power to destroy her sanity or her self-control.
“I’ll be here in the morning.” His lips thinned at the sound of a car door closing. “With Rory.”
Sabella smiled at the thought of getting her hands on Rory. Oh, her brother-in-law was in some serious trouble.
“You do that,” she told him softly as Duncan approached the door, a frown on his face. “And be ready to ride out the same way you rode in. Now, thanks to you, I’m late, and I’m not ready for my date. You deserve to be fired for that alone.”
She put a smile on her face as the door opened and Duncan stepped in. And of course, she compared the two men. Not that there was much comparison. Noah was hands down harder, tougher, sexier, more vibrant and imposing than Duncan would ever be.
“You’re not ready.” Duncan grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes despite the curious glance he flicked to the other man. “Why did I have a feeling you’d forget our date if things got busy?”
“Because you know me.” She grinned back, aware that her amusement was more faked than she would have liked.
Her gaze fl
icked back to Noah.
“New employee?” Duncan asked, turning to Noah as though he weren’t a rabid maniac on the loose and holding out his hand. “I’m Duncan Sykes. I own the electronics store in town.”
A shiver of foreboding raced through Sabella at Noah’s smile. It was the chill in his eyes, the flash of teeth, that warned her he wasn’t nearly as friendly he was pretending to be.
“Noah Blake,” he introduced himself.
Duncan glanced back at Sabella.
“It’s good to meet you.” Duncan nodded then smiled back at Sabella. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry and get dressed. Do you need me to lock up?”
Oh, she really didn’t think so.
“Everything’s ready, I just have to lock the door behind us.” She turned to Noah, her eyes narrowing as he continued to stare at Duncan. “Noah, I need to lock up.”
A flash of dread raced up her spine as he turned back to her. His eyes were flat and cold, his lips unsmiling, his expression too still. Too calm.
“Have a nice night,” he told her quietly before leaving the office and moving to the black, wicked Harley parked outside the garage.
Sabella was barely aware of the breath she had been holding until it released silently and she turned back to Duncan. “You’ll have to enjoy a glass of wine while I get ready. Time got away from me today.”
“You’re always worth waiting on,” he told her as they stepped from the office and she locked the doors. “Besides, we’ve been seeing each other long enough, Belle, that I know to build in time when I make reservations.”
Sabella grimaced. She was always late. She had never been late for anything until her husband’s death. It seemed as though she had been running late ever since. Trying somehow to go back rather than forward.
As she slid into the passenger seat of Duncan’s car for the ride up to the house, she couldn’t help but notice that Noah was still there. He was bent next to the Harley, fiddling with something, no doubt being nosy, because his gaze wasn’t on the bike, it was on them.
“I’m going to assume Rory hired him,” Duncan stated as they drove past the Harley.
“You assume right,” she breathed out roughly.
Rory was always pulling in strays. Thankfully, they never seemed to stay long. She had a feeling she was going to have trouble getting rid of this one though.
Nothing else was said as they pulled into the driveway in front of her house.
“Come on in.” She moved quickly from the car, house keys in hand. “You know where the wine is, go ahead and get a glass, I’ll get showered and be down in half an hour.”
She opened the door and rushed in, making for the stairs at a quick pace.
“I’m timing you,” he said, laughing. “Twenty bucks says it will take an hour.”
“You’re on.” She threw him a quick smile, but ducked her head, knowing that smile wouldn’t reach her eyes.
She couldn’t stop the feeling that somehow, some way, she was being unfaithful to the husband who had died more than six years ago. She had fought that feeling for a year, ever since the first date she had accepted with Duncan. The first time she had promised herself she was going to get over Nathan’s death.
Each time she and Duncan left the house she had shared with Nathan, she had felt the queasy, sick feeling that she was betraying the man she loved. The man who had loved her.
It was insane. She had to assure herself daily that Nathan would have wanted her to be happy, that he wasn’t staring down from heaven, feeling hurt and angry because she had turned her back on what they had shared.
She hadn’t turned her back, she told herself as she stepped beneath the shower. He had been a warrior, and he hadn’t returned home. He was dead and gone, and she was still alive. Wasn’t she?
Noah had a meeting to go to, an operational briefing that he knew he should already be heading to. Instead, he was standing in the tree line outside the home he used to share with Sabella, a pair of military binoculars in his hands, staring at the house.
No matter how much he had bitched while they were married, Sabella still left the blinds and curtains open until dark. They were open now.
Duncan Sykes was in the kitchen and, be damned, but he was opening a bottle of wine. His lips tightened. That was his wine, no matter who he was or wasn’t. He’d spent years building his collection of wines, rarely opening a bottle, enjoying the sight of the little wine cellar in the basement as it filled up.
Now that son of a bitch was opening one of his best bottles and pouring a glass. By God, if he caught that bastard in his bed, with his wife, there would be murder.
He blew out a hard breath. Wasn’t his business, he reminded himself.
The hell it wasn’t. Jagged, forked spikes of pure fury buried themselves in his brain as he felt the control he had built over the past years beginning to crack. If Noah saw Duncan touch her, he wouldn’t be able to control the rage.
Noah was aware of Rory coming up behind him, following the order Noah had given him when he called from the garage. His brother wasn’t happy. And that was just too damned bad, because Noah had never in his life been further from “happy.”
“How long has this shit been going on?” he bit out, keeping his eyes on the house rather than glancing at Rory.
“What shit?” Rory eyed him warily.
Noah flicked his hand at the house. “Sykes.”
“ ’Bout a year.” Rory flopped down at the base of a tree and yawned as though he were safe.
Noah flicked a look down at him. “And you didn’t stop it, why?”
Rory looked up at him in surprise before scratching his cheek thoughtfully. “Hell, probably because he’s the only one of the men she’s gone out with that I actually like.”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “How many have there been?”
Other men. Not just one man. Other men had gone out with his wife. Stared at her smile, lusted after her. He couldn’t imagine one of them touching her, or he’d have to kill them all.
“Just a few.” Rory shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “They never last long. A few dates here and there. Then she’ll get all guilty feeling, wear her wedding band for a while, and bury up here in the house when she’s not working before she forces herself to try again. She hasn’t worn her wedding band in over a year now though.”
Rory picked at a blade of grass as Noah went back to watching the house.
Sykes was still in the kitchen, probing around, looking through drawers. The bastard straightened a cup on a hook and paced to the far window to look down on the garage. There was a look of pending ownership on Sykes’s face, as if he were already imagining exactly what he intended to change in Bella’s life.
Yeah, Noah knew him, well. Duncan hid his strong will from most people, but he was no one’s fool. He’d been seeing Sabella for a year, then he was serious about it. He had every intention of owning everything Noah had once possessed as Nathan Malone.
“You left her,” Rory stated with a hint of anger. “It wouldn’t be any of your business if she had fucked half the town, anyway.”
He didn’t say anything, because Rory was right. He had left her. He had taken that mission knowing there was a chance of failure. He had failed and he hadn’t come back.
“What happened with Grant?” he asked Rory. “He tried to take the garage and the house after promising he would take care of her if anything happened to me. Why?”
“Same reason he ended up with Grandpop’s stuff, I guess.” Rory sighed. “Because that’s just how he is. Grandpop still excuses him. Says Grant is doing what he thinks will protect her. Grandpop always excuses him though. Calls it layers.”
Layers upon layers, he had always told Noah a lifetime ago. Nothing is as it seems. With Grant, Noah couldn’t imagine how it could be anything less than total selfishness.
“And Mike Conrad?”
Rory snorted. “That pig. He’s pissed off because Sabella wouldn’t screw him or sell him the ga
rage. He seemed to want both. He chased after her for over a year until she had to threaten to sue him for harassment. Then he started getting ugly. He wanted the garage worse than he wanted her though. Tried to turn the town against her for a while, but that didn’t work out too well. You had too many friends. Once she pulled her ass out of grieving for a man that just didn’t want to come home, she threw herself into the business and pulled it back up. She does good now.”
“Keep sniping at me, Rory, and you’re not going to be able to walk for a while.”
Rory snorted. He was quiet for long minutes before saying, “Grandpop went to your grave today. Usually he just walks out and talks to Grandma. But today, he went to your headstone and just stood looking down at it.”
Noah didn’t want to hear this. He pushed the rage and pain back inside himself and continued to watch Duncan prowl the kitchen.
“Strange thing about Grandpop, I just never figured it out until now.”
“He didn’t grieve,” Noah answered for him.
Hell, he should have known better than to think he could fool the old man. Jordan should have known better. Grandpop had always known what was going on before it ever happened.
“That’s true.” Rory nodded. “Not even once. And not like Sabella did. I used to stay up at the house some. She would wake me up every night screaming your name, swearing there was blood on her hands, or swearing you were hurt. Begging me to save you.”
Rory jumped to his feet. “Screw this. I’m going home.”
“She was right.”
He felt Rory still.
“What?” his brother asked carefully.
“She was right. I was hurt, Rory. Damned bad. And by the time I was rescued, I was barely alive.” He watched Sabella walk into the room and smile at Duncan.
The other man finished his wine, kissed her cheek, and they headed for the door. Duncan’s hand was at the small of her back, touching her, leading her. Damn, Noah was going to enjoy killing him.