He wanted her so much he could barely breathe.
She nervously raked back a tendril from her face, and he noticed she wore his wedding ring. He’d asked her to wear it. She probably assumed he’d meant for appearances’ sake. But appearances had nothing to do with it. He’d wanted her to think of him every time she looked at it. To think of their marriage, and their hot, frenzied kisses. Their lovemaking. He was fiercely glad she wore it.
She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. Ah. She’d decided to take control. Direct the conversation into safer channels. “I guess I should thank you for getting my father, Josh and Leo to meet with the D.A. and having the charges dropped.”
“It would have been less touchy defusing a bomb,” he admitted.
Acknowledgement sparkled in her eyes. “I was impressed. No punches thrown, no guns fired. Leo even told my father and Josh that he wouldn’t boot them out of his restaurant if they came in … as long as they didn’t bring too many McCrarys with them.”
“A cordial invitation, coming from Leo.”
Amusement bound them together for an instant and a smile flexed her mouth. The need to kiss her surged through him. And her gaze went to his mouth. He swore he wasn’t imagining the answering heat…
“Tess. There you are. Your mother’s been looking for you.”
Startled out of their absorption, she greeted breathlessly, “Phillip.” A flush had warmed her face—from the heat they’d been sharing or from Phillip’s presence, Cole wasn’t sure. She glanced awkwardly between them. “Have you met Cole Westcott?”
“No, I don’t believe I have.”
“Cole … Phillip Mattingly.”
Cole shook his hand. As he’d expected, the guy’s grip was a little firmer than necessary—a show of strength—and his gaze held cool appraisal. Cole understood that. The man felt that Tess belonged to him … and clearly knew that Cole wanted her.
“I hear you spend a lot of time traveling,” Phillip remarked.
Aren’t you glad? “I hear you’ve spent a little time on the road yourself.”
Phillip gave a small, acknowledging smile. “Don’t know if I’d call it ‘the road.’” Cole sensed banked resentment in him, which led him to think Phillip knew of his intimacies with Tess. He went on, nonetheless, to talk about his most recent trip with a droll reference to his “forcibly extended vacation.”
And despite the sharp, hot claws digging into Cole at the knowledge that she’d chosen this man over him, he soon noticed an interesting fact. Phillip didn’t shift closer to her, or put an arm around her, or declare his ownership in any way. And she didn’t settle closer to him, or gaze at him with intimate warmth, as Cole had been dreading.
But then, maybe that was part of the act. If she’d allowed the world to believe she was married to Cole and living with him, she couldn’t publicly acknowledge Phillip as anything more than a friend.
That didn’t mean the situation wasn’t drastically different behind closed doors. But Cole couldn’t tolerate that thought. It was torturous enough, seeing them together.
“So in September,” Phillip was saying, “we’ll probably head off to Zimbabwe.”
Cole frowned. What had he said?
“Phillip, did my mother say why she was looking for me?” Tess cut in.
“Not really.”
“Would you mind telling her where I am?” She smiled, and Cole realized that she was gazing at Phillip with intimate warmth. That intimacy had more to do with fondness than passion, though. Or was his perception warped by wishful thinking?
“Oh … sure.” Phillip hesitated, nodded awkwardly at Cole, then loped off.
Relieved that he was gone, Cole turned to Tess. “Did he say Zimbabwe?”
She nodded. “He’s going in September.”
But Phillip had said we. Dread curled through Cole. Would Tess be leaving? For how long? He’d have no chance, then, of taking her away from Phillip. “Are you going with him?”
She shook her head with an odd little smile. “I don’t think Kiki would like that.”
“Kiki?”
“An island woman Phillip met. She’s visiting to ‘learn other cultures.’ She’s been staying with me this week. I tried to get her to come tonight, but she was too overwhelmed by the crowd.” Tess smiled, probably at the utter confusion in his gaze. “Phillip thinks of her only as a friend … or maybe a research project. But she adores him, and he’s agreed to let her travel with him. I think he’ll realize sooner or later that there’s wonderful potential for them as a couple.”
Cole’s head was spinning. And his heart had picked up speed until it felt like it might explode. “I don’t understand. You’re matchmaking for Phillip?”
“In a way, I guess. I’d hate to see him … lonely.”
He stared at her, transfixed. Things weren’t making sense, but a blinding flash of hope forked across his dark horizon. And though he hadn’t yet formed a rational picture of the situation, he’d clearly recognized the sadness that had shadowed her eyes when she’d said “lonely.”
He knew that sadness. He’d lived with it for a solid month. He would live with it forever if she didn’t come back to him.
“Tess.” He reached for her. He couldn’t help it. If he didn’t hold her—hold onto her—she might disappear, as she had every night in his dreams.
A strangled sound rose in her throat and she pulled back from him. “I … I’d better go,” she choked out. “I’ve got things to do.”
“We have to talk.”
“No, really, we don’t.” Tess turned to leave, but her path was blocked by chatting people. She felt trapped. She shouldn’t have sent Phillip away! His presence had helped curb Cole’s awesome draw. But she hadn’t wanted to subject Phillip to further awkwardness. She had, after all, broken up with him because of her feelings for Cole—hopeless feelings, but undeniable. Phillip hadn’t been happy about it. Then again, he hadn’t been devastated, either.
“I envy Phillip,” Cole called out, stopping her dead in her attempt to escape, “for having Kiki.”
Tess shot him a startled glance. She’d known he’d traveled to exotic islands, but what were the chances…! “You know Kiki too?”
He slanted his lips in sardonic response, which activated the sexy groove beside them. “No, I don’t know Kiki.”
Embarrassment warmed her. She hoped he’d thought she was kidding. But more disturbing was the pull of attraction she felt at his warm, wry enjoyment of her.
“But having someone to travel with would be a wonderful thing.” His gaze grew serious, and his voice dropped to a reedy whisper. “Otherwise, it gets lonely.”
Every shred of common sense screamed for her to walk away from him. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that yet. “You’ve been … lonely?”
“Yes.”
Haven’t you learned not to listen to him? She couldn’t, wouldn’t, take his words personally. “I’m sorry. That ‘forsaking all others’ thing must be hard for you. November must seem very far away.” Her throat tightened at that thought, but she forced a smile. “Once your inheritance is settled, you’ll have plenty of travel partners.”
“No one’s going to challenge my inheritance, Tess. No one cares if I’m with a woman who’s not my wife.”
I do. And that was one reason she had to get away from him. Immediately.
But his hands swept up her arms in a gentle, kneading hold, and the imploring heat in his gaze held her captive. “I don’t have to wait until November. I could find traveling partners now. But what I told you before still holds true.” His hands tightened on her arms. “I want you, Tess. Only you.”
And her defenses, never strong against him, crumbled a little more. To make matters worse, the lights dimmed, a spotlight lit the dance floor, and the singer announced a special dance for the bride and groom. A hauntingly beautiful love song drew Kristen and Josh to the floor—a breathtaking bride waltzing with her handsome, dark-haired groom.
Tess
turned and stared at them with a slow, hot welling in her eyes. Her emotions were too on edge for anything as heart-stirring as this.
Cole shifted behind her, slid his arms around her waist and held her against his warm, solid body. The feel of him, the scent of him, flooded her with agonizing pleasure. His embrace felt so good. So right.
“I remember my bride,” he said in a hot, torrential whisper against her ear. “I remember dancing with her.”
Tess closed her eyes, overcome by the memory of their wedding night. They hadn’t waltzed on a dance floor, or even moved to music. Oh, but they had danced…
“Come outside with me, Tess.”
Temptation surged with such compelling force that her defense system at last kicked into gear. He wanted her to go outside with him. If she did, she’d be kissing him. And then making love to him.
Oh, he was good. Those Westcott men are pros. He wanted her, yes … but only for sex, or he wouldn’t have left her. He wouldn’t have handed her over to another man at the very first opportunity. Did he think he could crook his finger whenever the urge struck and call her to his bed?
Of course he did. And it was too, too possible that she’d come running.
“Okay,” she murmured, gritting her teeth, deliberately stoking her anger to hold back the hurt. “Let’s go.”
They hurried through the darkness, through the largely spellbound crowd, to the wide double doors at the back. Into the warm, star-studded Carolina night. Past another couple lingering on the spacious, redbricked patio. Around a dimly lit corner.
And when they reached the secluded side of the building, Tess broke away from his hold and rounded on him. “Now you listen to me, you … you Westcott,” she seethed.
He backed up a surprised step, confusion darkening his too-handsome face.
“You may not touch me, you may not hold me, you may not whisper anything into my ear,” she railed. “You lost those rights the day you gave me away.”
“Gave you away?”
“Don’t try to talk your way out of this. Just leave. Go ahead. Get out. I’ll see you in divorce court—if a personal appearance is necessary.”
Anger lit in his gaze. “Oh, so we’re back to ‘only what’s necessary.’” He loomed closer, backing her against the smooth stone side of the building. “Well, open your eyes and see what that is. We’re necessary, Tess. You and me.”
Her throat clenched, and to her horror, liquid blurred her vision. “You left me.”
“No, hell no. You left me.” His whisper was scalding and bitter. “For Phillip.”
“I would have come home by evening. You know I’d planned to stay with you.”
“You left me the night before.”
She stared at him, stunned into silence.
“You left me, Tess, when you turned away from me in our bedroom.” His anger, his pain, smoldered with every word. Expelling a harsh breath, he glanced away. Only after he’d tempered his intensity did he return his stare to her. “It’s not like I didn’t know,” he whispered. “You told me. From the very start, you told me. And you kept his picture in your drawer. When he called, you cried and whispered ‘I love you.’”
She couldn’t deny it. Any of it.
Cole shut his eyes, pulled her roughly against him and buried his face in her hair. And she held him. Tightly. Every muscle in his body seemed clenched, and his arms were bands of iron around her.
Her heart ached. She’d hurt him. She loved him so much, and she’d hurt him. The silence bled with regrets … but also with excruciating hope. She’d thought he hadn’t cared. She’d been wrong. But how deeply did he care? Was she reading too much into his anger and pain?
No. For all the mistakes she’d made throughout her relationship with Cole, the biggest had been not trusting the evidence of her own heart. She’d felt the emotion in his touch, his gaze, his kiss. His lovemaking. She believed he loved her.
And if she was wrong, knowing the truth was worth any risk she could take.
He stirred in her arms. Loosened his grip. Rested his jaw against her temple. Softly, hoarsely, he asked, “What happened with Phillip, Tess?”
She swallowed hard, overcome by the most ferocious hope. “It … it didn’t work out,” she whispered. “I’ll always care about him, but he … he wanted to kiss me. And to sleep with me.” A stark stillness came over Cole—one that she sensed rather than felt. In a barely audible rasp, she explained, “I couldn’t do that.”
Slowly he drew back to see her face, his gaze blazingly intense. “Why not?”
“Because I’m married.”
Confusion jammed Cole’s chest with emotion—gladness that she hadn’t slept with Phillip and fear that she’d refrained for the wrong reason.
Because I’m married. Did she mean that her legal status had kept her from going to bed with the man she loved? Was this another one of her morality issues—and all because they’d signed a few papers? Had the conflict broken them up?
Or … did she mean that she was married to him, in the truest, finest way imaginable?
“Tess.” He searched her eyes, desperate for the answer. He was almost afraid to find it. He, one of those historically damned Westcott men. But he had to know. “Are you saying that the technicality of our marriage came between you and Phillip?”
“Our marriage,” she replied slowly, “isn’t a technicality … at least not for me.” Her gaze followed her hand to his face, where she caressed him with a tender, lingering touch. “You see, my husband’s the only one I want,” she murmured. “I’ve never known anyone like him. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want him.” Intensity replaced the tenderness as her stare met his. “And I love kissing him. I can kiss him for hours and hours and still want more…”
Hot, incredulous elation surged from somewhere deep within Cole’s heart. He drove his fingers into her lustrous hair, caught her face between his hands and consumed her with his gaze, feeding on the emotion he’d been starving for.
“And I love making love to him,” she rasped, tears of sincerity welling in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how much.”
“I love you, Tess,” he swore. “I love you.” And he kissed her, saying it again, not out loud, but in the way he’d said it so many times before. He held nothing back, and neither did she. They took possession; marked their claim, in the deepest, most jubilant of kisses. A sensual celebration. A spiritual reaffirmation.
A homecoming.
When the need grew too great and practicality forced them to stop, Tess whispered fiercely, “I love you, Cole. I’ll always love you.”
That fact no longer scared her.
“Then you have to stay with me,” he decreed. “No divorce. No living apart.” In a touchingly fervent whisper, he added, “No hiding in the bathroom to change.”
She laced her fingers through the thick, silky hair at his nape and smiled into his eyes. She’d have no problem complying. “We do have unfinished business, you know.”
“A honeymoon,” he said. Would he forever be reading her mind? “And then there’s that negligee I saw hanging in our closet.”
No doubt about it … the man saw clear through her.
A commotion from around the corner of the building drew their attention. “I saw Westcott bring her out here,” came Aunt Sophie’s strident bark. “And I’m telling you, Tess didn’t want to go. I could see that, plain as day. She was about to cry. I think he forced her outside. He’s a fresh one, you know.”
A chorus of masculine mutters and oaths followed.
“Uh-oh,” Tess breathed into Cole’s ear. “A McCrary lynch mob.”
He didn’t seem particularly worried, and when he opened his mouth to reply, she shushed him with a finger over his lips. She wasn’t ready to give up their privacy.
“You all turn around and march right back in here.” The sharp command rang out into the night, effectively silencing the grumblings. Tess’s eyes widened. She’d never before heard such strength of purpose in her gentle mot
her’s voice. “Whether you like it or not, those kids are married. Leave them alone.”
Greatly subdued retorts and mutters answered her. The men were clearly not pleased. But the wave of noise receded, leaving silence in its wake.
Wonders would never cease!
“Brace yourself,” Tess warned Cole, who hadn’t loosened his embrace for a single moment. “My father couldn’t have been with them. When my uncles and cousins advise him of the situation, he won’t give in as easily.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
She frowned in question. He released her from his arms, drew something out of his vest pocket and handed it to her. The gold-embossed wedding invitation. She glanced at it in puzzlement.
“Open it,” he urged.
She did, and was surprised to see familiar bold handwriting scrawled across the ivory linen. I’ve known Westcotts to be shifty, scheming, unscrupulous and the lowest form of life on this earth. But I’ve never known one to give up on something he wants.
Astonishment kept her staring at it. But then the happiest sense of well-being bubbled up inside her, liberating her heart from the last of its bonds. She beamed at Cole. “Gosh, what gave you the clue that it’s from my father?”
They gazed with silent laughter.
But then his amusement faded, and he answered in a hushed, solemn way, “Because I know that he loves you. And if he thought you were unhappy, and that I could make things right, he’d do whatever he could to see that it happened … even if it cost him everything he had.”
The warm sheen returned to her eyes. And she smiled at him with a love that knew no bounds. “I don’t think my great-great-grandmother had vengeance in mind at all when she wrote that curse,” she mused. “I think she wanted to end the fighting between our families.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
The idea pleased her. But then a realization hit. “Oh, you suppose it’s possible, do you?” She narrowed her eyes. “I caught you, you scheming Westcott.”
He frowned. “Caught me?”
“You know that my great-great-grandmother wrote that curse—not two teenagers in the 1900’s.”
HOT-BLOODED HERO Page 21