Forbidden Entchantment

by Nina Bruhns

  Afterward, as she lay under him, dizzy with the last tremors of passion and panting with extravagant completion, she knew she would never be the same again.

  How was it possible to fall so far so fast?

  He scraped the damp hair from her brow and gazed down at her so tenderly, her heart simply melted in her chest.

  “C’est bon?”

  She smiled, not caring if her feelings were as transparent as glass. “More than good. Incredible.”

  She loved the weight of him on top of her, loved the feel of his thighs resting between hers, loved the hot stickiness of their skin pressed together, loved the fact that he was still half aroused as he reposed within her, sated.

  It was as carnal a position as she’d ever been in. With a man she barely knew. She should feel mortified, embarrassed, or at the very least slightly guilty. But she felt none of that.

  What she felt was happy. And content. And thoroughly loved.

  Which was the biggest piece of self-delusion she’d entertained in her life. But right now she didn’t care. She only wanted to savor the exotic and unfamiliar feelings.

  “Shall I stay or go?” he asked softly, spooning up close against her back after disposing of the protection he’d fumbled with earlier as though it had been his first time. So endearing.

  “Don’t you dare leave,” she murmured, closing her eyes, wrapping her arms over his, already drifting off.

  He kissed her hair. “Sleep, then. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

  With a sigh, she nestled closer to him. And slept, long and soundly. Better than she’d slept since Caleb was diagnosed with leukemia. Better than she had since her mother and father died in the car crash. Better than she had, well, ever in her life.

  And when she awoke, he was…

  Gone.

  “Impossible.”

  Sully stared in bald disbelief at the computer screen in Jake Santee’s office at the Magnolia Cove Fire Department. “There must be something wrong with the blasted thing!”

  Sully had forgotten all about his physical therapy appointment this morning. He hadn’t had the heart to wake Elizabeth, who was still sleeping peacefully well after the sun rose, so he’d left a note and sneaked out to see if any of the guys from the Magnolia Cove station could drive him to Old Fort Mystic Medical Center. Jake had volunteered, since he was headed in that direction anyway. He maintained an office at both fire stations.

  “You’re the one who wanted to know,” Jake told him patiently, peering at the computer screen, but only succeeded in making Sully’s blood pound harder in his veins. “Trust me, credit bureaus and the Department of Motor Vehicles don’t lie.”

  At the medical center, Sully had asked his doctor about Elizabeth’s request. The doctor had seen no problem with the preliminary compatibility test itself, which was a simple blood test, but had several reservations about the harvesting procedure, should Sully prove a match. His body had gone through a lot already. It may be too soon to ask more of it. Then the doctor had asked about his family relationship with Caleb, but Sully hadn’t been able to answer.

  When Jake picked him up again, they’d driven back and hung around Jake’s office for a while, talking about the fire last night. Noticing the computer on the arson investigator’s desk, Sully remembered that Tyree was always saying how you could find out anything in the world with a computer. So he’d asked Jake to do some quick research into Caleb and Elizabeth’s family tree. They were now looking at the results.

  He clenched his jaw, anger coursing through his entire being. “Are you sure?”

  Sully was still suspicious of the whole computer thing. He’d seen plenty of them in the hospital, of course, so he was familiar with the general concept. But it seemed incredible to him that all that information could be instantly retrieved from a tiny box not even as big as a sea chest.

  “Positive,” Jake assured him. “So what’s the problem? You already knew you were distantly related to the Connecticut Sullivans, right?”

  Oh, yeah. He knew.

  To the depths of his soul he knew.

  To the gates of hell and back he knew.

  And he’d been plucked from the dead to wreak his revenge on them and sever that connection, finishing it forever. To fulfill the curse he himself had put on the line so long ago.

  But Elizabeth…Elizabeth was a Sullivan?

  It couldn’t be! She’d sworn she had no more secrets. That her name was Hamilton. And yet here was the worst secret she could possibly have kept from him!

  His lover had been brought up in the lair of the old devil himself—with Sully’s mortal enemy as her brother.

  Mon Dieu! The irony!

  He had bedded the enemy’s sister! And she had asked him to save the very person he’d sworn to see consigned to the lowest depths of hell—the last living male heir to Lord Henry Sullivan.

  Lord Henry—the man who had cold-bloodedly murdered Sully’s family.

  Chapter 7

  “C hief? Chief?”

  Sully dragged himself from the swift tempest of his rage and forced a neutral expression to his face. “Aye? Sorry, I was lost at sea for a moment.”

  Jake hiked a brow. “Didn’t know you sailed.”

  “I’m a ship’s cap—” Sully suddenly remembered who he was now. “I mean, I’d like to learn—” And that Jake was probably jesting. Merde. “What was it you wanted?”

  The other man grinned. “Lunchtime, Captain. Feel like grabbing a bite?”

  Sully’s anger howled from its confinement. “Not today, Jake. I’ve got a few things I need to take care of.”

  He declined Jake’s offer of a ride, swiped up the printout of Elizabeth’s family tree and his walking stick, then stalked out of the station.

  He needed to be alone. To tame his savage thoughts before confronting Elizabeth.

  Casting about for somewhere to go where he wouldn’t be disturbed, his gaze went instinctively in the direction of his favorite pub, the Moon and Palmetto. Bad idea. He and Tyree had danc ed their fatal duel on the Moon and Palmetto’s already ancient floorboards two hundred years earlier. Aye, and three months ago it had burned down, taking Andre Sullivan with it and spitting Sully out of its dying flames like a phoenix rising to life again.

  Just as well it was gone. Bad mojo there.

  Clenching his jaw, he set off with no direction in mind. And in less than five minutes found himself storming up the front walk to the Pirate’s Rest Inn.

  So much for letting off steam.

  “There you are, Chief Sullivan!” Mrs. Butterfield sang out from a rocking chair on the front porch when she spotted him. “Miss Hamilton and I missed you at breakfast! How did your doctor’s appointment go?”

  “Just fine, ma’am, thank you for asking,” he said politely through a stiff smile. “And where is Miss Hamilton?”

  “Sully!” The screen door opened and she stepped through it looking pretty as a spring morning, her duplicitous eyes sparkling with cheer, her lying mouth curved up in a smile of welcome as she reached for him. As soon as she saw his face, she faltered, her hand suspended in midair. “What’s wrong? Did the doctor—”

  “You. Come with me.” He seized her hand, slung open the door and towed her roughly inside. “Excuse us, Miz Butterfield,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Sully, what—”

  He turned to Elizabeth, and growled, “Arrête. Not a word.”

  He had no memory of how he got up the stairs so quickly, barely noticed the pain lancing through his leg. When they reached her room he shoved her inside, slammed the door and pushed her back up against it. He smacked his hands onto the solid wood on either side of her head and her blue eyes went wide. With shock, not fear, he noted perversely, at the one moment of her life when she should fear him most ardently.

  “Why?” he demanded, his voice sharp as a blade. “Why did you not tell me?”

  Her gaze flickered. Her hands crept toward his chest. “Tell you what? Sully, why are you�
�”

  “Don’t!” Before she could touch him, he seized her wrists and pinioned them above her head. “Do not pretend you don’t know—”

  “But I don’t! Please…”

  He clenched his jaw, restraining his wrath by a thread. “You should have told me you are a Sullivan, Elizabeth.”

  “But I—” Confusion swept across her face. “I—I’m not, really. I’m a Hamilton. Yes, the Sullivans adopted me, but—Why on earth would it matter?”

  “It matters,” he roared.

  She jumped. Fear finally began to pool in her eyes. Her hands trembled in his grip.

  “Okay. I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything, honest.”

  He searched her face, her soul. He was so damned angry. All he could think of since seeing her name on that computer screen, linked with that of his hated nemesis, was that he’d been right. She had betrayed him. She’d known all along, had used him and hurt him deliberately.

  “Sully?”

  It was the pleading in her open, guileless gaze that finally got through to him.

  Non. God’s Teeth. Of course she didn’t know.

  His fury notched down. Just a little.

  How could she know? She had no idea who he was. Who he really was—or what had happened to his family. No one knew…no one but Tyree. It was part of the Sullivan Fouquet mystique.

  He didn’t let her loose, but bent his head and glared down at the floor, composing himself. He had to say…something. He must offer some manner of explanation for his bizarre behavior. And then he had to crush her hopes.

  Because despite her innocence, there was not a chance in Hades that he would help her brother, a Sullivan.

  “Sully? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  The endearment nearly gutted him. He recalled all they had shared last night. All the dreams he had spun for a future that could make up for everything he’d been denied in the past…

  Abruptly he dropped her wrists. Turned his back and paced away.

  “I can’t do it,” he said.

  She was silent for a long moment, then sighed. He didn’t dare turn, couldn’t bear to see the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal in her face.

  “I know,” she murmured. “Though I hadn’t expected it quite so soon….” Her voice wavered. “Guess it’s better this way.” He heard the doorknob turn. “But…I’m hoping you won’t let it affect your answer about the test.”

  He jerked around, realizing she had misinterpreted. “Non, you don’t understand. I’m talking about the test. Not—” He took a step toward her, then halted. If he touched her, he’d be lost. “I will not help your brother. I cannot.”

  Her crestfallen face paled with a far greater distress. “The doctor said no?”

  Sully squared his stance. Better to face the truth. “I’m saying no.”

  Her brow pleated in incomprehension. “But…why?”

  His brain spun with the portent of the moment.

  Because this was the fulfillment of a whole lifetime lived for one single purpose—revenge. This was the fruition of the curse Sully himself had placed on the man who had brutally ripped the life from his beloved parents and destroyed his family and his childhood.

  Caleb was the last of his line. The very last. Only when he was cold in the ground would Sully’s own parents’ deaths be avenged.

  “Because he’s a Sullivan,” Sully gritted out, knowing there was no way she would ever understand. And there was no way he could ever explain.

  “But you’re a Sullivan, too,” she argued, voice wavering.

  “Not by choice,” he shot back. Then reined in his fury. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It is not within my power to offer aid or even hope to my enemy.”

  “Enemy? What are you talking about?”

  He closed his eyes—how to begin?—then opened them again. “Let’s just say your family and my family have a terrible history. Things were done in the past. Unforgivable things.”

  Elizabeth’s jaw slackened. “But…How far in the past? Sully, my family didn’t even know about your branch until last week!” Her eyes widened. “Oh, God, please tell me this is not a Civil War thing. I know you Southerners are—”

  He held up a hand. He wasn’t sure what she was referring to, but one thing was certain. “This is not about a war. It’s personal. Very personal.”

  She stared at him. “What, then? Whatever it is, we can fix it together. We’re…friends, at least…aren’t we? That’s a start.” Tears suddenly filled her eyes. “Sully, please. I’m begging you.”

  He had to gird himself against reaching for her. What a damnable position! Ruthlessly, he cut off the impulse to weaken.

  “Non. The matter is closed.” He strode to the door and swung it open. Took one last look at the woman he would give anything—almost anything—to hold in his arms again. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  And the pain of that truth would have broken his heart if only the pain of an earlier truth hadn’t already done such a thorough job.

  Stunned, Elizabeth watched the door shut on Sully’s imposing figure.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Of all the possible scenarios she expected to be playing out with him this morning, this was bottom of the list. No, this wouldn’t even have made the list.

  Enemy? Family history? What was he talking about?

  Groping for the bed, she lay down and tried to control her trembling body. She couldn’t do this.

  The emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the past few weeks was too much to bear.

  Caleb’s sure and steady decline had been awful to witness, but when his doctor had finally warned that unless he got a bone marrow transplant soon it could be too late, that’s when the reality of the situation had finally hit Elizabeth hard. Her brother was going to die. Friends, family, the donor register had all been exhausted. There was no one left to turn to.

  And then a miracle had happened. She’d found a reference in some old family papers about the Carolina Sullivans. Barely scraping together the cost of a ticket south, she’d managed to find Andre Sullivan. Then came the crushing news that Andre had been close to death himself, and only now was out of the hospital.

  But then a second miracle had happened: he’d seemed amenable to helping Caleb. Not only that, Elizabeth had fallen for the man. Hook, line and sinker. She’d given her body to him. And her heart. A few hours ago, for the first time in years, she’d been glowing with happiness. Positive everything—everything—would turn out well.

  But suddenly now…now this. The worst shock yet. He’d changed his mind. About both her and the transplant. For the most idiotic of reasons—no reason at all, that she could see.

  She could—just—absorb the blow his personal rejection struck to the inner reaches of her heart. But the fact that he was actually willing to let Caleb die over some ancient, long-forgotten feud was too much to bear.

  Terrible family history? Was he kidding? What could possibly be so horrible to turn a good man away from doing what he knew was right?

  Or had she sadly misjudged him and his sense of honor?

  Her breath hitched in a soft sob.

  What would she do?

  Oh, God, what would she do?

  Half an hour later, Elizabeth sat up and dried her eyes. Having a good cry had helped. Enormously. She hadn’t cried for ages and ages. Not since her adoptive father’s funeral three years ago. Once in a while it did a body good to just let go and give in to the despair.

  But enough was enough. Crying was not going to solve the problem at hand.

  She’d gotten this far, damn it, and she had no intention of giving up now. Not until the last stone had been overturned and the last possibility to help her brother utilized.

  Which meant Sully.

  He was going to have that test come hell or high water!

  She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. Reaching for a towel, she looked at the mirror, into the eyes of a woma
n she barely recognized, so different from the one who’d been there this morning—a woman brimming with adoration and optimism. Now both crushed.

  Tears threatened anew, but she forced them back. The time for tears h ad passed. It was time for action.

  Determinedly she fetched her cell phone and dialed her home number.

  “Hello?”

  Elizabeth’s heart wrenched at Caleb’s softly spoken greeting. He was home from the hospital? That could only mean one of two things. Either he was getting better, or…

  She swallowed down the last thought. “Hi, honey. It’s me. How are you doing, sweetie?”

  “Bethy! I’m doing good. The doctor let me come home! How’s your vacation?”

  She and her mom, Gilda, hadn’t told him the true reason for her trip. No sense getting his hopes up…

  “It’s been great, buddy. You wouldn’t believe how different it is down here. All palm trees and ocean breezes.”

  “Sounds relaxing. You are relaxing like you’re s’posed to be, aren’t you?”

  “Doing my best, Squirt.”

  “Meet any nice guys yet?”

  For a second she couldn’t breathe. It was an ongoing joke between them. For the past year or so he’d been playing matchmaker from his hospital bed, insisting she didn’t go out on enough dates because she was always watching over him. She’d always insisted none of the guys she knew met her high standards.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  He’d gotten even more determined lately, since the doctor let slip that the drugs and chemo might affect his ability to have kids of his own later on. But Elizabeth was even more worried he was trying to find someone to fill her life when he wasn’t there any longer….

  “Tons,” she choked out. “And these Southern guys sure are cute.”

  Caleb snickered. “But can they cook?”

  “Very funny.” Elizabeth laughed through the pain in her heart. She was notoriously untalented in the kitchen. Even Caleb boiled water better than she did.

  They talked for a long time before she finally asked, “Is Mom around?”