“Really, Michael. You act like nothing happened here. Are you going to stand by and let the Greys get away with this?” Cecilia demanded.
“I’ll talk to Ellis,” Michael said, just as his phone rang. “And now, if you’ll excuse me.”
At Cecilia’s insistence, Nicole agreed to stay for dinner when all she wanted to do was to sneak out and go home. If she’d had a home to go to. Which, it appeared, she didn’t. Katrina received a cooler invitation and accepted it quickly, making it clear that she would outstay Nicole if it took all night.
In a brief interlude before dinner, Nicole had a curious and fateful talk with Katrina, who stood framed against the French windows, looking like a high-fashion runway model. “Are all your relationships so destructive?” She wrinkled her nose.
“What are you talking about?” Nicole sighed. They were the only people in the room, and it made her uncomfortable.
Katrina laughed. “You can drop the innocent act. You’re not going to be able to fool everyone for much longer.”
“I don’t understand.” Nicole’s temples banged, her headache getting worse.
Katrina’s arched eyebrows rose still higher in polite disbelief. “Are you out to destroy the whole Edwards family?”
Nicole gasped. “Destroy the Edwardses? How could I do that?”
Katrina looked around, as if to make sure they were alone. “You brought Greg Templeton here and introduced him around. You were there the night he got arrested, and he’s yet to say a word about his business associates. Did you use your friendship with the Edwards family to get Greg into Edwards Inc.? I think he’s protecting someone and that someone is you.”
“Katrina,” she sputtered, “I knew Greg, but I didn’t—”
Katrina cut her off. “You’re completely innocent, right?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then what happened that night? Just how much do you know about his business dealings?” she demanded.
“Katrina, I don’t know what you want from me. He didn’t tell me anything.”
“He must have said something,” she insisted.
“I told the FBI everything that happened in excruciating detail. Quite frankly, I have no reason to go over it with you. It’s none of your business.”
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help Michael,” Katrina huffed, her eyes meeting Nicole’s in direct accusation. “Doesn’t it bother you, what you’re doing to Michael? To his reputation, one that’s taken him years to build? You’ve destroyed it in a few short weeks.”
“Katrina, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do anything to hurt Michael or his family.”
“Who circulated the rumor that Caroline left you a husband and that the man was Michael Edwards? How do you think he’s going to stand the scandal if his board of directors think that marrying you is part of a business deal that includes the Alexander fortune?”
“Not one word of what you’re saying is true.” The color deepened on Nicole’s cheeks.
Katrina studied her face for a moment. “For Michael’s sake, I hope not. One thing is for sure, if you get Michael to fight your battles with Ellis, especially now that forgery’s been insinuated, Michael won’t have to worry about his business reputation—he won’t have one. Or is that the next black cloud you’ll drag over his head, implicating him in a forged will?” She broke off and turned with a smile to greet Michael as he came into the room. Not giving him a chance to speak to Nicole, she linked her arm with his and pulled him into the corner, saying, “Sweetheart, how are you holding up?”
What was Katrina talking about? Implicate Michael in a forged will? She was certainly making it clear that she’d staked her claim and thought Michael belonged to her. But then, she’d done that since the first day they met.
Is it true? Will helping me with my problems only complicate Michael’s life further?
All through dinner, Nicole sat silently, speaking only when necessary. Afterwards, she apologized. “Thank you for dinner, but I must be going. My headache appears resistant to aspirin. I think I’ll get to bed early.”
“I’ll drive you,” Michael said, and Nicole saw Katrina’s mouth set in a hard line.
“I have my car.”
Michael grabbed her arm. “I’m driving,” he whispered, and propelled her out the door and into her car.
They drove in silence until they came to the turnout on the road where Michael had stopped on the day they met. He switched off the motor and turned to face her.
“Nicole,” he said quietly. “I have a lot to tell you, and I’m going to make my absence up to you. I know I’ve been a cad, including tonight. Don’t give up on me or us. There hasn’t been much time to talk since Greg’s arrest.”
“I’ve told the FBI and you everything that happened,” she said.
“That wasn’t what I meant. I mean time to talk about us.”
Her hand was on the door handle; she wanted to jump out and run, run from her problems and fears. Who was she kidding? She wanted to feel his lips on hers, his voice whispering in her ear.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten.” In the dark, Nicole could hear him laughing softly. “Your grandmother went to a lot of trouble to leave you a husband. We shouldn’t disappoint her.”
Her heart raced. Michael, she thought sadly, now is not the time.
His arms came around her, enveloping her in his warm embrace. Her mind whirled when he cupped a hand beneath her chin and angled her face up to meet his. The heat of his touch flared through her, setting fire to every nerve. The next instant, he sealed his lips over hers and devoured them. The crush of his lips, hot and demanding, made her gasp. Nothing had ever tasted or felt this good.
For a moment, the sweetness of it was as much as Nicole could bear. She closed her eyes and took a breath; she would not cry. Then she remembered her conversation with Katrina. What would it do to Michael to get involved in her messy life? If she did inherit and they started a relationship, people would believe that he was the fiancé she’d invented to get rid of Greg, and believe that his motivation for being involved with her was money. They’d snicker at the suggestion of love.
Nicole turned away in a feeble attempt to escape his passion and her own desire. “Michael, let me go.”
He released her at once. “What is it? Was I wrong to think you feel the same way about me?”
“I do care about you,” she said. “But there’s so much going on right now. I don’t even have a home. I just can’t think about an ‘us’ right now.”
“Everything will work out, you’ll see.”
For a moment, the temptation to throw herself back into his arms was strong. She wanted to feel safe, to have someone to talk to, someone who could help her make sense of the chaos in her life. But she had no right to involve him any further in her problems, especially since they had a way of reflecting on him.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “Now’s just not the right time to talk.”
Silently, Michael started the car. He didn’t speak until they reached her house. As he helped her out of the car, he smiled. “Try not to worry,” he said gently. “We’ll get you through this. I predict your problems will come to an end very soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THAT NIGHT, NICOLE tossed and turned until the sheets were a tangled mess. Stop it, she ordered herself, but only managed to be still for a minute or two. She ought to be satisfied with herself.
Michael Edwards was the best thing to happen to you in a long time, and you pushed him away. You wanted to make him fall in love with you and then dump him. Then what did you do? Go and fall in love with him yourself. Not quite the way she planned it. This is my own fault. Why did I have to go and spread that story of Grandmother leaving me a husband? Greg Templeton...everywhere I go, he haunts me.
Being ignored by Michael the past week had burned, making her heart ache. And now no one would believe that she and Michael were together for any other reason but money.
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The viperous Katrina would gladly make Michael forget that Nicole Alexander had ever existed. She’d wanted to slap the woman tonight when she’d grilled her about Greg. Nicole wondered about Katrina’s role in all this; she suspected it was more than as a loyal friend to Michael, but it was possible that Katrina, too, had found Greg charming, and her questions were nothing more than curiosity.
She continued to toss and turn, thinking it could very well be her last night in this house. She wouldn’t put it past the Greys to throw her out on the street if they thought they could get away with it. What a strange few weeks it had been, and to now walk away from everything her grandmother had built, just turn it over to the Greys, no questions asked… the thought made her stomach roll. She couldn’t do it, but how would she endure living with the Greys? But she had to, at least until the estate was settled one way or the other.
Not being able to sleep brought back memories of her first night in the house, when she’d lain awake in fear. Why be afraid now? The Greys had gotten what they wanted. There was no mystery anymore.
But she continued to have a funny feeling that the whole house was awake with her. You’re letting your imagination run wild.
Nicole kept hearing distant vague sounds; she listened and swore she heard whispers. Something was going on in the house. The sound of footsteps moving around, someone on the stairs. Her stomach in knots, she tentatively reached out to touch the intercom button and listened carefully for any sound coming from the room next to hers.
Silence again. It had probably been the Greys downstairs. Or it was just nerves. Of course it was nothing; why would someone be in the next room?
Then she heard an intake of breath.
Don’t be silly, she told herself, it’s only you. She held her breath for several seconds, but the sound of heavy breathing went on. Someone was in the room next to hers.
It must be Lucia. Nicole relaxed. Chester must have moved her out of their rooms and into one of her own. Now that the Greys had ownership of the house, there would be changes, and more of them than moving their daughter in. They’d always treated Nicole as if she were an unwanted guest in their house. If she didn’t vacate soon, she had no doubt they’d have her arrested for trespassing, scare her out or, worse, try to hurt her. She wouldn’t put it past Chester to get his hands dirty.
Nicole sank back against her pillows and closed her eyes, but sleep seemed impossible. Unexpectedly, an image of Ellis Sadler leaped into her head, telling her that the signature on the first will looked forged. Why would someone forge a will leaving everything to her? Nicole frowned in the dark. Who would have anything to gain? How was it that her grandmother had left her everything she owned when her own lawyer hadn’t even known of Nicole’s existence? The only person who had was Michael, the only living witness to the first will.
Calm down, Nicole. You’ve got to face facts. It’s time you opened your eyes to everything that’s going on around here. Michael himself told you that, at Grandmother’s request, he investigated you, and no one knew about it, not even Cecilia or Jake. Michael had made Nicole promise not to tell anyone. Why was it so important to keep the secret now, after Grandmother’s death?
Michael had told her that he and her grandmother had ongoing business deals. Ellis had also told her the same story. All right, Nicole, if you’re so anxious to be independent and businesslike, start now—who profited? Not Ellis. His position was the same, no matter who inherited. But Michael, if he married her, could bring about the coveted merging of their properties and the only person who stood to gain. What did she know about him, really?
She didn’t want to believe that Michael could be involved, or worse, that he’d orchestrated her life for his gain. Her heart cried. Not Michael. But she believed it, believed he’d betrayed her. First Greg, and now Michael. Face it, you’re a lousy judge of men.
Once again, the sound of footsteps on the stairs penetrated her thoughts. Lucia? But the quiet, unhurried breathing was still coming from the next room. Chester? These footsteps had a crisp assurance about them. Somewhere, a door closed.
More footsteps! Determined ones this time, the kind that would not easily be stopped. Nicole could imagine those ruthless feet treading on anything that got in their way. They broke off suddenly.
Who were these people? What were they doing here? Seemed like four, or maybe five, pairs of distinct footsteps. Michael had said he’d be around when Nicole needed him, which would be now, but she no longer trusted him. Fear spread up her spine, her legs going weak.
Then, in a state of disbelief, she heard Michael’s voice through the intercom. “You’ll do as I say,” he said in a cold, ruthless voice, a tone Nicole had never before heard him use. “Get her out of here, and do it now.”
“But—” began another voice that she recognized as belonging to Zander Farrell.
“I don’t care if you have to tie her up, just get her out. Hurry up, we don’t have much time,” Michael hissed.
She was too heartsick to be frightened. This couldn’t be happening. So Michael had been involved all along. Michael and Zander must have staged that scene on the road to throw her off balance. No wonder he’d seemed so unconcerned when Zander got away, and no wonder he hadn’t wanted to call the police. He wouldn’t turn his own partner in.
She took a deep breath, trying to muster up courage she didn’t feel. She knew she had to act quickly and remain calm. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, groped her way silently in the dark to the closet, dressed hastily in her comfortable sweats, and shoved her feet into tennis shoes. She fumbled around, finding her purse on a chair, and slipped the car keys into her pocket, then shoved her cell phone into her other pocket, even though she’d forgotten to charge the damn thing.
She made her way cautiously to the door and unlocked it quietly, putting her hand on the doorknob. Cold fear swept through her when she felt the knob turn under her fingers. She reached for the lock but was a second too late. The door slowly moved inward. Silently, Nicole stepped backwards until, pushing her back against the wall, she could go no farther.
“…if you have to tie her up…” Michael’s words echoed through her head.
The door opened wider. Someone stepped into the room with her; she could feel their presence and hear their even breathing. She held her breath and, hearing no sound of movement, peered through the darkness. The intruder stood in the middle of the room. Then a movement, so light she’d never have heard it if her every sense had not been alert. The shadowy figure was walking slowly toward the bed.
Nicole kept one hand against the wall, ears straining, lips parted. Carefully, she timed her own steps, moving only when the shadow moved. Each time it took a step toward the bed, she took a step around the door. And then another. She could feel cold air on her ankles from the open door. A whisper of cloth brushing against cloth as the intruder reached the bed, groping the sheets.
With a whisk of movement, Nicole escaped through the door and raced down the stairs. She ran toward the front door, praying the deadbolt had been left undone.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs after her. Almost at the front door, out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone dash behind the door leading to the dining room. She was trapped. Nowhere to go. With a silent cry, Nicole turned and headed for the library. She ducked inside and silently closed the door behind her. In the dark, she groped her way across the room toward the long windows that opened out onto the terrace. A muffled noise came from the hall, the sound of men fighting. More feet clattered down the stairs. Had the world gone crazy?
The door to the hall opened and closed again. Someone entered the library and stood quietly.
Outside, there was a shout. “They both got away.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Not through the front door. I never left it unguarded.”
Voices she didn’t recognize. Somewhere in the room, a floorboard creaked. Nicole dropped behind a chair. Another board creaked, this one cl
oser to her.
Now I know how an animal feels when it’s being stalked.
On hands and knees, she crawled backward, still sheltered by the broad back of the chair. Something brushed her ankles, and she smothered a scream before realizing it was just the drapes.
People were running now. “I’ve got the back covered. Turn on the lights.”
Nicole opened her mouth to scream for help but thought better of it and pressed her hand over her mouth. How did she know that whoever it was would come to her rescue?
“…tie her up…” The words echoed over and over in her mind.
She slunk behind the drapes and pulled herself slowly to her feet. She reached for the catch of the door, hoping the click wouldn’t betray her presence. She just needed to pry it open far enough to slip out without getting caught.
Suddenly, the library door blew open with a bang and the lights came on. There was more shouting, then the sound of fighting, men stumbling, a woman screaming, people bumping into furniture, blows exchanged, and heavy breathing.
Cautiously, Nicole opened the draperies a crack. The room was full of people. Her eyes focused on the scene in the middle of the room: Jake was holding Ellis at gunpoint and Katrina was struggling in Michael’s arms, yelling, “Now we can have it all, sweetheart.”
Michael had done all this for Katrina? The pain of her disillusionment unbearable, Nicole jerked back, losing her footing. She stumbled backward through the open French door, her knees crumpling. She hit her head on the concrete and fell into darkness.
~ ~ ~
Nicole drifted in and out of a state of delirium that would later make it difficult to know what had been real and what had been the mad pictures of a feverish mind.
There were lights, loud voices, and men arguing. Someone sobbing. There were arms that lifted her from the ground and laid her on the couch. Faces she expected to see: Chester and Rena, Ellis and Jake. And faces that surprised her: Lucia crying on Zander’s shoulder, Michael and Katrina huddled together.
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