“Come closer,” Elizabeth beckoned. She patted the side of her bed when Laura rose and came to her bedside. When she sat, Elizabeth took her hand. Laura smiled when the familiar scent enveloped her.
“I’d forgotten you always wore Shalimar.”
“It’s hard for us old dames to change our habits.” Elizabeth paused for a moment to study Laura’s face. “Things have just been hard on you in general, haven’t they Laura?”
Laura felt herself blushing beneath a stare that was both penetrating and kind at once. She opened her lips and it just came out without her ever intending it to—the truth.
“Yes,” she whispered.
A piercing awareness of her loss sliced into Laura at that moment. Elizabeth’s hold on her hand tightened in sympathy for her grief. Elizabeth finally broke the full silence.
“Do you know when Alex first asked me to marry him I was eighteen years old? He was a first generation Italian, so handsome the devil would have been jealous. When we met he was working at a men’s clothing store on Michigan Avenue, putting himself through college. I’d accompanied my father to the store while he was fitted for several new suits.”
Laura smiled as she tried to picture it—the tall, good-looking, dark young man and the delicate, fair, Irish princess. Laura knew Elizabeth’s father had been a baron of finance and industry and that as an only child Elizabeth had been an heiress of a vast fortune. Elizabeth and Alex would have been leagues apart socially and economically, but none of that had mattered when they’d first looked into each other’s eyes.
Laura wagered none of that would have even existed.
“You two must have been blown away by each other.”
Elizabeth gave a toothy grin that made her look years younger. “We fell madly in love. My parents forbid me to see Alex. I defied them, of course, and dated him behind their backs. He asked me to marry him seven different times. I was scared to accept, you see. Fearful of the unknown. I loved him, but what would it be like to live with no money, no health insurance . . . no guarantees.”
“So what happened?” Laura asked.
“Well I married him anyway, of course. Who could have resisted him for long?” They both laughed. “My parents disowned me at first. They didn’t come around until later. I’d finished college by then and Alex was in law school. He worked part-time at the university library and I worked as a guide at the Art Institute.” Her eyes gleamed when they met Laura’s. “They were some of the best years of my life.”
Laura squeezed her hand in shared understanding.
“I always regretted the years I didn’t spend as Alex’s wife because I was afraid. I should have had more faith in him.”
Tears blurred Laura’s vision as she stared down at their joined hands. Elizabeth had been talking about much more than her and Alex’s romance. She started to speak once but found her throat was closed. Her second attempt was more successful.
“Elizabeth, I want you to know . . . Shane and I . . . everything that happened back then . . . it’s got nothing to do with faith.”
“No. It’s got everything to do with faith.”
Laura raised her head at Elizabeth’s steadfast tone. It felt as if her warm smile was a benediction. She glanced down in surprise when Elizabeth reached up and slipped a cool, elegant finger beneath the chain around her throat, lifting the necklace out of her blouse. If Laura had to describe the expression on Elizabeth Dominic’s face when she studied the green pendant it would be “smug satisfaction.”
“I’m so pleased you wear the emerald.”
The hairs on the back of Laura’s neck stood on end. Was Elizabeth all right? They must be tiring her with their visit. She was losing touch with reality.
“Elizabeth, you should rest.”
“It’s been in my family for three generations, you know,” Elizabeth continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Well . . . Shane is the fourth, actually.”
“Elizabeth . . . it’s just a piece of paste. Huey gave it to me years back.”
“No. Shane gave it to you. He asked for my permission to do it when he realized that awful man had copied my design for the setting and stolen the emerald. It all happened years ago. I got back most of my jewelry, including the emerald. The jeweler was caught, of course. I think Shane looked into that criminal’s records and saw your husband had purchased a copy—a fake. Shane was angry at you for marrying Huey Mays. Bitter. Still . . . he couldn’t bear the idea of you being fooled.”
As Laura stared into Elizabeth’s eyes she got the strangest feeling that somehow Elizabeth knew the truth. She was talking about more than Huey giving her a piece of fake jewelry. Despite the fact that she still whirled with confusion, she muttered, “I was never fooled. I always knew the truth.”
Elizabeth shook her head slowly and held up the pendant. Its captive fires flashed in the dim light.
“No. Here is the truth. I don’t understand why you married that man, Mays, but I’m guessing whatever the reason, there was tragedy and heartache involved. I don’t know precisely what’s happening between you and my son now, although all I have to do is look into Shane’s eyes to know he’s even more in love with you than ever. What I know for certain is that I found a precious family gem that I’d long ago planned to give to Shane for his wife. I found it worn next to your heart. What finer truth is there than that, Laura?”
Laura gaped in dawning amazement. Elizabeth’s moist eyes flickered over her shoulder. Laura turned to see Shane watching them, his puzzled gaze dropping to where Elizabeth held the emerald in her hand. She saw his strong throat muscles convulse as he swallowed. Something he’d said at the cabin came back to Laura at that moment.
The thief’s name was Orvantes. The way I found out about that wasn’t professional. The incident became personal—on more levels than one.
Shane’s eyes rose slowly to meet hers. Laura stared in disbelieving awe at the truth she saw in his gaze.
Alex cleared his throat loudly and Laura realized she’d been caught in Shane’s soulful stare for an untold amount of time. She stood shakily.
“I . . .” She began before she glanced back at Shane. “We probably should be going so that you can get some rest, Elizabeth.”
“Come and visit me at home, won’t you, dear? I have two gorgeous new oils from a Spanish artist I want to show you.”
“I will,” Laura promised as she kissed the older woman’s cheek, thinking that when it came to hers and Elizabeth’s relationship, at least, it was as if thirteen years had passed in the blink of an eye.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Shane sat on the couch and watched Laura as she walked around his study, examining his framed lithographs on the wall and the contents of his bookcase. He wondered if she was nervous being here in his home with him alone.
She’d relayed to him on the way from the hospital what Elizabeth had told her about the emerald. When she’d asked him if it were true, he’d admitted it was. He’d been a little concerned that she hadn’t asked him anything about it since, just commenting on mundane topics like the convenience of the location of his Gold Coast high-rise and the comfort of his condominium.
He couldn’t be quite sure what Laura was thinking as she prowled around his study with her elegant hand curled around a brandy snifter. She took a sip occasionally, but mostly she just rolled the liquor in the bowl of the glass thoughtfully.
“I can’t believe all your awards, ” she murmured as she examined a letter of commendation for his work on counterterrorism efforts from the United States Attorney General. She set the frame back in the bookcase and gave him a warm glance. “Or rather, I can. It just seems . . . so strange to see firsthand proof of what you’ve been doing all these years.”
He shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious about displaying the awards and letters of commendation. In truth, there were several more that he’d never bought frames for. The few he had put up in his office were the ones he was particularly proud of.
“The
federal government is pretty proficient when it comes to stamping out some words on a piece of paper. Hell of a lot cheaper way to handle things than springing for a bonus or a gold watch.”
Laura turned to face him and perched her bottom on the edge of his desk. The smile she gave him made him ache with longing.
“You’re not going to convince me those awards are meaningless pieces of paper, Shane. They commemorate something special—you: your courage and dedication.” She took a sip of the brandy and lowered the snifter, her gaze remaining steady on him the whole time. “When did you do it?”
“When did I do what?” he asked distractedly, most of his attention on the movement of her elegant throat when she swallowed. An intimate, sensual spell seemed to have been cast between them. Their voices had become hushed, an unintentional sign of respect for the sacredness of the unfolding moment. He was almost preternaturally aware of Laura’s actions, of the thrilling rise and fall of her breasts beneath her silk blouse, of the delicate pulse at her throat.
“When did you exchange the piece of paste that Huey had bought for me for this?”
His breath stuck in his throat and his cock ached dully when she placed her fingers between her breasts, parting the fabric of her blouse so that she could touch the emerald.
“Twelve years ago,” he replied huskily.
She shook her head slowly, her loose hair making a sensual swishing sound against the silk of her blouse.
“Why? Why did you do it?”
He met her gaze. “I told you before. I couldn’t let go of you. I can’t.”
For a stretched moment neither of them spoke.
“Even though you believed I’d betrayed you by marrying another man?”
“Are you telling me I’m a fool, Laura?”
“No. I’m not.”
She set down the brandy snifter on his desk, never breaking their stare, and came toward him. When she reached him she carefully removed his glass from his hand and set it on a nearby table. Shane just watched her, made mute by longing, as she kicked off her pumps and straddled his hips on the couch, settling her weight in his lap. His good hand spread along her hip and lower back.
“You’re not a fool because you were right. I never betrayed you, Shane. Not with my body. Not with my heart.”
He thought of how he’d gripped on so tightly to his belief of her having sex with Huey and his friends in that basement, even though the knowledge had cut him . . . wounded him.
“I had no right to throw what I’d learned—what I thought I’d learned,” he corrected, “on those surveillance tapes in your face, Laura. I’ve hardly been a monk these past thirteen years. I’ve had my share of women. I almost married one of them.”
She shook her head in wonderment. “You believe what I said is true about Huey setting it up so that you would hear that orgy and assume it was me? You believe—just like that?”
He sighed. “I should have guessed the truth. Problem was, I knew what a sleaze Huey was. I also knew you’d married him. I assumed you must have shared his preferences, that you liked being dominated by him . . . being used for Huey’s and his friends’ pleasure. It was hell for me to think it but when I heard those tapes I felt like I couldn’t kid myself anymore. I couldn’t deny the truth.”
“So you took me up to that cabin and tied me up to that bed, thinking if Huey could make me submit to his every demand, surely you could, as well.”
He pushed on her back until she came closer. Their foreheads touched. Her long, thick hair surrounded them like a curtain. His nostrils flared to catch her singular scent. “I don’t regret it, Laura. I needed to do something to break through to you.”
“I don’t either. And you’re right. It was what I needed, to have you force me to the truth. It felt so good to give in to you,” she replied in a hushed tone. “But only because it was you. Shane.”
He gave a small grin. “Does that mean you’re still going to let me tie you up?”
She wiggled in his lap, getting friction on her pussy and stimulating his cock in the process. His smile widened.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured. He lifted her blouse and ran his hand along the satiny expanse of her back, needing to touch her skin to skin.
He felt the fine tremor in her flesh.
“Laura, if it’s true that Joey is being set up, you have to tell me what you know. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t.”
“I know.” She inhaled raggedly. “I’m ready to tell you.”
His hand slid beneath the waistband of her skirt, his fingers stretching to stroke the sensitive spot just above the crevice of her buttocks. She moaned softly at the intimate caress, shifting up in his lap and stroking his cock with her pussy. His erection strained against his boxer briefs, eager to be released from its confines. Laura must have felt his cock surging beneath her because she dropped a fervent kiss on his neck.
“Funny,” he whispered as he turned his face, his lips brushing against her soft cheek.
“What?” Laura queried between kisses that were becoming increasingly feverish on his neck and ear. She emanated a heat that he longed to bury himself in.
“I would have guessed that when the moment came when you finally told me your secrets, when you explained to me why you married Huey Mays all those years ago, that there would have been nothing more important for me to do than to listen.”
“And is there something more important, Shane?” Laura whispered as she ground her pussy against his aching cock.
“Yes.” He raised his hand to her shoulder, pushing her back slightly. “You’re more important than the truth. We are. I should have believed that from the beginning . . . despite how you pushed me away.”
“Shane—”
“No. Let me finish. You were coerced into marrying Huey Mays. Weren’t you?”
He felt her soft yes in every cell of his being. Their stare held, full and gravid.
“Because of something you knew? Something you overheard?”
Her long hair whisked across his hand when she gave a small nod.
“And I just threw you to the wolves by doing nothing. Didn’t I?”
“No.” She shook her head rapidly. Tears moistened her large eyes. “You did everything you could. You tried to get me to explain, but they threatened me. In the beginning, soon after my sham of a marriage to Huey, I considered telling you the truth, despite their warnings. I scheduled a meeting with you. Do you remember?”
Shane nodded. “Yes. But then Derrick wrecked the car and he and Peter were killed. I tried to talk to you at Peter’s funeral to schedule another meeting, but you were too grief-stricken to consider it. Every time I tried to speak to you after that, you were so cold . . .” He paused, his mouth falling open as the truth struck him. “They were responsible for Peter and Derrick’s car accident, weren’t they? And you were afraid to speak to me after that for fear of more retaliation?”
This time the swish of her hair as she nodded felt like fine little blades cutting into flesh.
“Oh, God, Laura.”
“No, please. Don’t blame yourself,” she whispered fervently when she saw his face collapse in anguish and accurately intuited the origins of his pain. “It was Uncle Derrick. He was one of the leaders of the illegal CPD operation from the beginning. And . . . and when I accidentally overheard them plotting their next theft one night in the back room at Sunny Days Derrick caught me at it and dragged me in front of all those men. He forbade me to tell the truth. They . . . they threatened me in so many ways. When I defied them, they made a point of assuring me their threats were genuine.”
Shane stared at her in rising horror. “I don’t understand . . . Derrick died as well in that car wreck with Peter. Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?”
“Oh, yes. I’m certain of it.”
“Why?”
He saw her throat constrict as if the muscles themselves had been coerced into not speaking the truth and rebelled against it even now.
/> “Randall Moody and Derrick both vied for the leadership position of the theft ring,” Laura said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Derrick’d disagreed with Moody’s decision to marry me off to Huey Mays when I discovered what they were doing—to make Huey my jailer. But Moody had overridden him. Later, when Derrick had understood that I’d been threatened with Peter’s life as well, he balked. Him threatening me was one thing, but other people threatening his family outside of his jurisdiction was too much, even for a bastard like Derrick.
“Derrick’s and Moody’s positioning for power put Derrick at as much risk as Peter,” she continued, her volume increasing some when she expressed the degree of her hatred for Derrick Vasquez. “When Huey discovered that I’d contacted you back then, soon after I’d been forced to marry him, they retaliated. One of them—I still don’t know which—ran Derrick and Peter off the road into an embankment. It looked like Derrick had lost control and went off the road, but it was murder. Pure and simple.”
Laura must have felt him shudder. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “Please . . . please don’t regret anything. What else could you have done given the circumstances? I gave you no reason to suspect . . . I made sure you had no reason to hope. I did everything in my power to turn you away. Some of the things I said were so hurtful.” Her choking sob ripped at him. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Shane.”
He couldn’t be sure if it was his or her tears that dampened both their faces as she kissed him feverishly, but he suspected it was both. He tasted their combined misery and ecstasy on his tongue when she penetrated his lips, kissing him with a pressured intensity.
She leaned back a moment later and began frantically unbuttoning her blouse. Both of them panted shallowly when she finally parted the fabric, revealing her dewy, honey-hued skin and her full breasts encased in thin white satin and lace. The vision of her beauty made his eyes burn and his heartbeat throb dully in his cock. She touched the emerald that hung between her breasts, her heart in her eyes as she met his gaze.
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