by Faye Hall
“You wouldn’t understand,” she muttered.
He studied her, knowing that if she couldn’t look at him while she spoke, then she was obviously hiding something. She had never been very good at lying, even as a child.
“You didn’t really come here for work, did you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing on her as he studied her, trying to see what she could be hiding from him. “So why are you here? Was I right to assume you are here to punish me? Or did you perhaps think to rob me of the riches the bastards in this town have rumored me to have stolen?”
She kept her stare directed away from his, her hands moving to slide inside the pockets of her jeans. She looked so scared and unsure of what she should say or do. This wasn’t the woman he’d once spent so much of his past with.
“Damn it, Amalie, look around you!” he demanded, not ignorant that his raised voice made her jump. “Whatever you think to have come here to take from me, I’m sorry to say, but there is nothing left for anyone. All I have left is the curse of staying alive and watching all of those I love around me leave, or die, or both. I have nothing but despair and tragedy. So I ask again, why are you here?”
Finally, her gaze returned to him, and he saw anger in her eyes. “Do not expect me to give you my sympathy,” she cried, looking irritated as her hands came up to her face, quickly wiping away her tears. “I have lost everything.”
He pursed his lips, hating that she had suffered so much. “I lost everything that night too, Amalie,” he reminded her. “Jacob was my family too.”
“Don’t play the victim, Tristen. It doesn’t suit you, nor is it easy to believe knowing that you are richer than most,” she hissed at him. “I know better than most just how much money you have made from the blood and tears of the townspeople.”
“Do not rush to believe the rumors you have heard. I alone know just how much I lost the night of the fire.” His hand automatically went to his face, his fingers tracing the scars there. “I lost the two people I loved most that night, and I would give up my entire fortune right now if it meant I could have you and Jacob back.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” she uttered, moving to turn away from him.
He stepped toward her, reaching out to stop her. “Why not?” he asked, grabbing hold of her elbow. “Is it because you can’t bear the memory of sharing a bed with someone who is now so disfigured?”
She struggled against him. “Because this isn’t what I was prepared for. When I came here, I was told to expect a hardened, cold-hearted bastard who thought of nothing but himself and what he wanted. I never thought to find a man consumed by his own sorrows, punishing himself more than any other ever could.”
“Then leave!” he shouted at her as he let her go and stepped back. “I will not keep you here as if you were my prisoner. If you can’t bear to be here with me, with the man I’ve been forced to become, then you are free to go.”
“I can’t,” she rasped despairingly.
“Why?” he asked, narrowing his gaze as he studied her. “Who is it that sent you here?”
“I have been told these past few months that I should hate you, Tristen,” she said, the words sounding as if they were being dragged from her. “When I arrived here, I thought I would be able to send you to the same hell I was put in after Jacob died and I was stripped of everything my family owned. I needed to make you feel the same anguish as I had. But now…you have given me a place to stay and offered me work without expecting too much in return. You have shown regret and sorrow for the loss of my brother, and you show no signs of living the life of wealth I have been told you relish in.”
He closed the distance between them, no longer able to just stand there and watch the pain she was feeling. He wanted to give her some comfort and remind her that she wasn’t alone.
“Jacob was my best friend, and to lose him that night was almost as painful as losing you.”
“I have been told I should hate you for what you took from me that night, but standing here with you now…what I feel now is not like any hate I have ever known.”
His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek, his stare holding hers. It pained him to think this woman might have felt some kind of hatred for him. This wasn’t something he’d ever wanted. As his fingers grazed her cheek, he needed her to know that despite what he’d been told about her, he had never felt anything but love for her in his heart. “I have never hated you, Amalie,” he muttered, cautiously lowering his face to hers, their lips joining in a passionate embrace. He never thought to touch this woman again, and now, their bodies inches from each other, he never wanted to let her go again.
He waited for her to push him away, but she didn’t. All he felt was her hands sliding up and along his naked chest and to his shoulders, pushing his shirt off and to the floor. That was his undoing. He picked her up and carried her to his bed. Laying her gently on the mattress, he lay beside her, taking her in his arms, his lips caressing her soft skin down her neck.
He pulled at the buttons on her blouse, forcing them to give way and reveal the swell of her breasts to him. Kissing her there, pleasure shot through him when he felt her fingers lace in his hair, holding him to her. His hunger for her mounting, he quickly unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her legs as far as he could reach. Feeling her moving, he glanced down to see her pulling her legs free from the fabric, and he knew that for now, this woman desired him as much as he did her.
Shifting to lay between her spread thighs, he quickly unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down slightly to reveal his throbbing manhood. He nestled the head of his swollen cock against her wet slit, marveling at the feel of her. Amalie lifted her hips to him and, moving them in a way he remembered well, pushed her quim toward him, inviting him inside her. He thrust into her, the tightness of her sheath stretching for him with each movement he made until finally he filled her. He had hungered for this moment for so long, and now that he was there with her, he feared he wouldn’t last long.
He moved out of her slowly, his breathing ragged as he tried to rein in his control. When she spread her legs slightly, a gasp of pleasure escaping her, he knew he was lost. Her hands on his rear guided him back into her again and again. It didn’t take long for him to feel her entire body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed her, her sheath pulsating around him. Losing all control, he held her to him, pumping his seed deep inside her, his heart swelling at having Amalie back in his life.
His body still tingling from the passion he experienced with this woman, he kissed her softly on the lips. She was as passionate as he remembered, yet somehow seemed much more guarded, almost like she was expecting at any minute he would hurt her or turn her away. He tried not to think about what could have happened to her to make her think this way. All that mattered now was she was there with him as he always yearned to have her, and he would do anything to remind her of the beautiful, strong woman she had once been.
Shifting to lay beside her, he held her close. Despite the physical joining they just shared, he was no fool. He was well aware that passion wasn’t what led her back to him, but for her to be there with him now, their naked limbs still entwined, Amalie must still have some feelings for him. He could only hope now that she cared enough about him to listen to what he had to tell her.
“I didn’t kill Jacob,” he said softly, his arms holding her affectionately. This wasn’t how he wanted this moment to be, but this could be his one and only chance to make her listen to the truth. He felt her body tense beside him, and he knew instantly he would have to fight her to make her listen.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she uttered, trying to push away from him, her hands reaching for the sheet to cover her nakedness. “I should never have come here.”
His hands held her wrists firmly, moving her beneath him to stop her from leaving. “Yes, you should have,” he told her as he moved to sit astride her. “You need to know the truth about what happened the night Jacob died. I need you to understand that I had
nothing to do with his death.”
She bucked against him. “Why should I believe you?” she asked.
His hands on her wrists pushed her against the bed, trying to still her struggles. “Because it’s the truth. Jacob was my best friend. I would never have hurt him.”
She continued to fight him. “Then why did you send for Jacob to join you out near the workers’ cottage the night of the fire?”
He took a deep breath, memories from that night returning to him. He let go of her wrists. “I didn’t send that note. I told Jacob that when he showed it to me. It wasn’t even in my handwriting. The only reason I was out there that night was to meet you.” He slid off of her and sat beside her on the bed. “I walked past you in the hall after you and Carter finished talking, begging you to meet with me outside. While I was waiting for you, Jacob came up to me and asked what was going on between you and I.”
Still holding the sheet against her, covering her nakedness, she sat up against the headboard of the bed. “And what did you tell him?”
“The truth,” he confessed. “That I was meeting you.”
She averted her eyes from his. “Jacob confronted me just before he received a note from you asking to meet him outside. He asked how long I had been seeing you and warned me that you were not the kind of man he wanted me involved with. Seems he objected to me sleeping with an engaged man.”
He rested his hand on her arm, his fingers stroking her soft skin. “I didn’t want to lie to you about Amanda, but I was too scared to tell you. I was sure you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the engagement was all my father’s idea.”
She turned her gaze back to him. “Was it?” she asked.
He nodded. “Father thought it would be a profitable match. I tried to tell him I didn’t want to marry her, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He didn’t even listen when I told him I had feelings for you.”
“What?” she asked, sounding very confused.
“That was what I was talking to Jacob about that night out near the workers’ cottage. I asked him to help me convince your father how much you meant to me. I thought if my own father wouldn’t listen, then maybe yours would.”
She looked down at where his hand was resting on her arm. “What did Jacob say?”
Thinking she was looking at the scars on the back of his hand, he pulled his hand away, reaching for one of the sheets to also cover his nakedness. “Jacob told me your father would never allow me to marry you. Even if I told him we’d been sleeping together, all he would do was send you away somewhere. I couldn’t bear for that to happen.”
“M-marry me?” she stammered.
He nodded. “That’s when Jacob told me you were pregnant. I begged him to help me convince your father how much I loved you and wanted nothing more than to take care of you. I even told Jacob I would help your father out financially so he wouldn’t lose the cattle station. Finally, Jacob agreed to talk to your father on my behalf.”
“I was going to tell you about the baby,” she confessed, sounding saddened by the memory. “I just didn’t know how to.”
He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that he would have welcomed the idea of having a child with her. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t that man anymore.
“We were just about to go back into the house and fetch you to go and talk to your father, when we heard a scream from inside the workers’ cottage,” he went on to explain, ignoring his ache to touch her again. “Jacob was certain Amanda was inside the cottage and ran inside to help her. I followed him, but the smoke was thick and it was hard to see either of them. By the time I found Amanda, she was bloodied and unconscious. I dragged her to the exit where the smoke was still thin. When I heard Jacob yell out, I went back for him. I managed to get him through the smoke and to where I left Amanda. The smoke was getting thicker, and the fire was getting closer. I tried to drag them both from the burning building but bottles started exploding all around me, shards of glass cutting my skin.”
He felt her fingers lightly tracing the scars on his chest. Reaching up, he took her hand in his, pulling it away.
“I couldn’t see through the thick smoke, and I’d lost any sight of where the door was. I heard the ceiling beams starting to crack and give way, so I lunged for where I thought the exit was. After that everything went black. I woke up several days later in my bed. That was when my father told me about Jacob and Amanda.”
She fought off his hand and returned her fingers to the scars on his chest, her light touch tracing over the swollen skin. “You could have died.”
He nodded, again pulling her hand away from his scarred skin. He hated what he had become, and how he must look to Amalie. “When I heard Jacob died, and you were engaged to Bastian Tanner, I wished I had. I used anything I could to numb the pain I was feeling, hoping it would also take my life.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The heroin bottles I found in your old room?”
He nodded. “The doctor gave them to me to help with the pain from the burns and gashes. I learned quickly that pain was nothing compared to the pain of losing the ones you love. When the doctor stopped supplying the heroin, I paid whatever amount was asked to have it supplied from elsewhere. If it wasn’t for my lawyer forcing me into rehabilitation, I would have overdosed long ago.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I never knew,” she rasped out. “I was told you were the one responsible for the fire that night. That was why you sent for Jacob. With my brother out of the way, there was nothing stopping you from stealing my father’s properties and fortune from under his very nose.”
Lifting his hand to her face, he wiped away the single tear that had fallen. “There was nothing to steal,” he explained. “Jacob told me months before his death that your father had already lost everything the family owned to debts collectors. I certainly wasn’t sleeping with you in some hope to gain what your family owned, Amalie. Nor did I have anything to gain from your brother’s death.”
“You claim you didn’t write that note summoning Jacob to the workers’ cottage, but then who did?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve had men searching for months trying to find out that very thing.”
“Did you ever learn why Amanda was out there?”
He nodded. “She was there to meet Jacob.”
“You knew about their affair?”
“Your brother hinted about it that night,” he replied. “If anything, I was grateful to him for his relationship with Amanda. I thought when we went to see your father, we could tell him not only about you and I, but also Jacob and Amanda. I hoped he would see the sense and profit in both unions and give his consent. The fire happened before I could find out though.”
“None of this makes any sense. I was told Jacob was killed for money, that it was you who wanted that money. I couldn’t understand it though, because you already had so much...stood to inherit so much. Then I was told just recently that it was you who tricked my father into selling his properties—”
“I offered to buy them from your father so his assets would be secure should anything happen to him. He agreed. After he died, I had my lawyer send word that you were welcomed to stay in the house as long as you needed. But the next thing I heard, you had moved out and started working as a maid for wealthy station owners in the town.”
“No one ever told me it was you who bought the station, or why. As far as I knew, after my father died, I was all alone.”
He pursed his lips. “Is that why you aborted our baby?”
Tears fell from her eyes, and he hated himself for causing such a pained emotion in her. Still, he needed to ask. He had to know the truth.
Lifting her hands to her face, she wiped at the wet tracks. “There was an accident before Father died. He had just told me about my engagement to Bastian. I was so emotional. I had just lost my brother. I had heard nothing from you since the fire, and I was being saddled with a marriage to a man who made my skin crawl. Bastian came and took me outside into the gardens. T
here was a disagreement, and he struck me. I fell to the ground, and he kicked me in the stomach. Carter Dix came to my rescue and carried me into the house. When he laid me on the bed, he was covered in blood. Father sent for the doctor, and he confirmed I lost the baby.”
Her words stabbed at his heart. “That’s why your engagement to Bastian was called off?”
She shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. I begged Father to call off the engagement as I lay waiting for the doctor to come, but he was so reluctant. He almost looked scared to go against Bastian. Then the day Father died, he told me he’d canceled my engagement. He mentioned something about business troubles, and I suggested he let me contact you. I hoped if I went to you and explained everything, you might be able to help us. Father told me he was still waiting to hear back from some informant to prove your innocence, but if that came back clear he would allow me to meet with you.”
“And what did the informant tell him?” he asked, preparing himself for the worst.
“Father died before he could tell me,” she said. “It was after the funeral I was told that there was nothing left of my inheritance. I was given the message that I was welcomed to stay on at the station, but warned that I may be expected to pay dearly for such a favor. I was scared what I would be demanded to give as payment, so I left. It was only a few days ago that I was told it was you who took my father’s properties.”
“I didn’t take anything. I contacted your father a couple of days before he died and offered him financial help. I paid him enough so he could pay out his debts without losing the station. I even helped hire extra staff for him so the place might get back to a profitable business.”
He studied her, relieved that finally he was able to clear some of his conscience. As his gaze traveled over her beautiful features, he again began to wonder what had brought her back to him after so long.
“I really want to know what made you come here, why you came back to me after so long,” he continued.
“My main reason for coming here was to make you tell me the truth about your involvement in my brother’s death,” she explained. “If you were guilty, I needed you to tell me to my face.”