The Soldier's Seduction
Page 24
“No. Laurie had already arrested her and taken her to the cells before it happened,” Vincente said.
Bryce swore under his breath at the thought of Steffi in a cell. I wasn’t there for her. He watched the screen avidly, desperate to hear what was happening with her. There was plenty of speculation. The story dominated every news channel. In the absence of any developments, footage from Steffi’s films was played alongside images of her, Greg and Walter.
“Miss Moretti’s manager, Paul Conway, and her attorney, Gina Bailey, have just arrived in Stillwater. Seen here entering the police department offices, Mr. Conway has said his client will be making a full statement in the coming days and weeks. In the meantime, he has stressed that the important thing will be to get her home to Los Angeles where she belongs.”
Where she belongs. That was it. It was over. The closest he’d gotten to saying goodbye had been in bed the previous day. And maybe that was the best way. They’d always done their best talking with their bodies.
“We’re going over to our reporter in Stillwater where something seems to be happening.” On the screen, the familiar image of city hall appeared. The crowd of reporters parted as a tall man—presumably her manager—escorted Steffi to a waiting car. She looked tiny as, with her head down, she ducked into the waiting vehicle. As soon as she was settled in the rear seat, the car drove away.
“In a statement just issued, Paul Conway, Anya Moretti’s agent, has confirmed that all charges against his client have been dropped. He has asked the press to respect her feelings and to grant her privacy at this time.” In the studio, there was speculation about Anya Moretti’s next moves. A period of rest followed by a book deal? Straight into a new movie?
“Switch it off.” Bryce had almost forgotten Vincente was still there. “Torturing yourself won’t do any good. I’m going to stop by the office for an hour or two—try to get some rest while I’m gone.”
Vincente was right. Continuing to watch the speculation and gossip, culminating in Steffi’s return to Los Angeles, wasn’t going to do his well-being any good. He pointed the remote control at the TV. But rest? He didn’t think that was likely to happen.
Surprisingly, the effects of the anesthetic in his system meant he did doze on and off. He even dreamed. Vividly. He was walking along the beach at Leucadia. It was sunset and Steffi’s hand was in his. His imagination was working overtime. He could smell Steffi’s perfume, that light, summery scent that was uniquely hers. He could even feel the clasp of her hand in his. When he felt the press of her lips on his cheek it was so perfect he sighed.
“If you are going to stay asleep when I have just fired my manager and announced to the world that I am retiring from making movies, it doesn’t look good for the future.” There was a trace of amusement in her voice that had to be real.
The beach scene faded and he opened one eye. The bland hospital room came into view and Steffi was sitting in the chair recently vacated by Vincente. “Am I still dreaming?”
“If you are, I am, too.” The smile in her eyes warmed every inch of his body.
“What did you just say about retiring?”
She looked a little nervous. “Did you miss my press conference? It was on all the news channels. Chief Wilkinson wouldn’t allow the press into the police department, so I had my manager hire a room at the Stillwater Heights Hotel. I’ve had enough of the celebrity lifestyle.”
“What will you do instead?” His heart had commenced an irregular, heavy beat.
“That depends on you.” Although her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were steady on his. And loving. He wasn’t wrong about that. He’d grown used to reading the expression in her eyes. There was love in those golden depths. “On what you want to do next.”
He grinned. “My leg won’t let me show you exactly what I want to do next, but come a little closer and I’ll give you a preview.” She leaned over him and he tucked a hand behind her neck, pulling her down so he could kiss her long and hard. “That will have to do. For now. But we have the rest of our lives to do everything we want. Together.”
“I love you, Bryce.” The words were a sigh against his lips. “I never knew it was possible to feel this way.”
“And I love you. I wasn’t living when I met you. I was barely functioning. You’ve made me whole again. When I saw the footage of you driving away from city hall, I thought I was losing you and I couldn’t think straight.” His arm moved lower, tightening around her waist. “I am never letting you go again.”
* * *
Leucadia Beach at sunset. Steffi couldn’t imagine a more idyllic setting. She would have been happy for the marriage ceremony to have taken place anywhere. In the little chapel on Lakeside Drive in Stillwater. In city hall...although maybe she would draw the line at the memorial hall. On the Stillwater Trail. In a field. Even in the Wilderness Lake Trailer Park.
This had been Bryce’s idea. The screensaver on Greg’s cell phone had taken hold of his imagination. Greg and Bliss couldn’t be at their wedding, but this was one way they could include their memory in the ceremony. And he had been right. It was the perfect way to end the first chapter of their story and begin the next one.
Four months had passed since that awful night in the Clarence Delaney Memorial Hall. Months during which Bryce had recovered slowly, and they had taken their time with their romance. The things they had once missed out on had become their priorities. They went on dates, held hands and kissed in public, spent time really getting to know each other. Fell even deeper in love...if that was possible.
Cameron had completed the necessary formalities and was licensed to be a deputy marriage commissioner for the day. He gave the occasion just the right amount of gravity, but also injected a touch of his own charm if the mood seemed inclined to stray downward. Not that it did too often. The bride and groom were too happy for that.
June and Nancy clung to each other’s hands and cried constantly throughout the service, while Todd and Tanner looked on with twin expressions of bemusement. Although they exchanged the what’s-this-about glances that men gave on these occasions, Steffi caught a glimpse of moisture in her dad’s eyes when he placed her hand in Bryce’s. It was there again when Cameron pronounced them married.
Laurie, who had lived most of her life in San Diego, was excited at the prospect of vacationing in California, but confessed to a feeling of regret that the wedding had not been a full-on Beverly Hills celebration.
She eyed Steffi’s simple white lace dress and bare feet with her head on one side. “But you look incredible.”
Laurie’s disappointment at the lack of glamour was compensated for when Steffi handed her the keys to her house in Beverly Hills. “It’s yours for the next two weeks. My housekeeper has instructions to make sure you have the vacation of a lifetime.”
Once Laurie and Cameron left, the house would be placed on the market. The real estate agent, buoyed up by the recent publicity, had talked of holding out for an inflated price. Steffi had shaken her head and told him to get the place sold quickly. She wanted to cut her ties with Los Angeles as soon as possible. Stillwater would be her home from now on.
The only person she would leave behind with any regret was Elsa, but she had given her housekeeper a generous settlement package and references that would ensure she could walk into any job. Laughing, Elsa had told her the offers were flooding in.
“They all want to know what happened with you,” the little housekeeper had said. “Don’t worry. I’ll never tell.” Steffi believed her.
Before the reception Tanner took them out on the boat along the darkening coastline. Leaning on the rail, Steffi watched the white waves churning in the boat’s wake.
Todd came to stand next to her. “Is this where I’m supposed to say something fatherly about the rough waves you can see behind you representing the past and the smooth water ahead being the future?”
/> “That’s actually very poetic.” She smiled up at him.
He turned to look at where Bryce was talking to Vincente. “You chose a very good man.”
Steffi felt her smile widen. “I know.”
“I wish there were things we’d done differently.” The words seemed to have been dragged from somewhere deep within him.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she rose on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I expect every parent says that.”
“Maybe with less reason?” His smile asked for acceptance, and she was happy to give it.
“Not every parent had Walter Sullivan to contend with.”
Moving away, she made her way to Bryce’s side, catching the tail end of his conversation with Vincente.
“No matter how happy I am for you and Steffi, times like this remind me that I still don’t know what happened to her.” Vincente’s voice was low and wretched.
“There’s still no news?” Bryce asked.
“Nothing. Laurie said the police haven’t found her body. They’ve taken out advertisements asking her to come forward but there’s been no response. It’s the not knowing that’s the worst.” When Vincente saw Steffi standing close by, he forced a smile and relinquished his place at Bryce’s side. “I’m going up ahead to ask Tanner if I can take the wheel.”
“What was that all about?” Steffi slid her arms around Bryce’s waist, tilting her face up to his.
“Vincente’s girlfriend—on-off girlfriend—Beth, went missing around the time the Red Rose Killer, Grant Becker, was murdering women in Stillwater. We don’t know if she was one of the victims.”
“That explains it.” Steffi watched Vincente as he walked away.
“Explains what?”
“Why Vincente looks so sad sometimes.”
He held her tight against his side. Although he had dispensed with his crutches for the day, she knew it annoyed him that he still wasn’t able to swing her up into his arms. Yet. “Enough about other people. It’s about time you kissed me again, Mrs. Delaney.”
Steffi obliged. Sometime later, when she was finally able to speak again, she tilted her head to one side. “Mrs. Delaney. Steffi Delaney. I’ve had enough different names in my life. That’s the one I’m sticking with from now on.”
* * * * *
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Don’t miss TAKE IT TO THE GRAVE!
A 6-part psychological thriller that will have you guessing till the very end!
“I know your secret. I’m going to tell.”
As Sarah Taylor-Cox stares at the anonymous letter, her body starts to shake with dread. She has everything to lose—a gorgeous husband, a beautiful baby, and a picture-perfect house in the Hamptons. And now, the lies she’s built her life on are starting to crumble, one by deadly one...
Collect all 6!
Take It to the Grave (Part 1 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 2 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 3 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 4 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 5 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 6 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Take It to the Grave (Part 1 of 6)
by Zoe Carter
Prologue
The clouds gather thick and furious, shutting out the sun.
The smell of ozone is intense, warning me more effectively than the grumbling thunder. A storm is coming—a big one, perhaps the worst we’ve had in years.
The thought of Elliot gets me moving.
Elliot, with his soft skin and plump cheeks, the darling dimples at his elbows. Just four months old.
An image of another baby, another time, creeps into my mind, but I push it away, stumbling on the damp sand. The nightgown my husband is enamored with twists and turns in the growing wind, tangling between my thighs. I long to tear off the slick fabric, but I don’t dare take the time. I have to find my child.
“Elliot!” I scream his name even though he is too young to answer.
The thunder makes a mockery of my cries, stealing my breath before I can try again.
It’s no use, anyway.
The beach is empty.
Waves throw themselves at the shore again and again, churning themselves into foam.
The ocean fizzes around my ankles and I climb farther up the shore to keep from getting dragged into the angry water. My foot comes down on a broken shell, but I ignore the pain as it cuts through the skin. The agony that swells in my chest at the thought of losing my son is far worse than the throb of my wounded heel.
I can’t lose him—he’s everything.
Please don’t hurt him. Not Elliot. He’s so innocent...
But all babies are innocent, aren’t they?
The rain, when it comes, is as enraged as the ocean, and I’m soaked through in an instant. I can’t bear the thought of my sweet little boy in this downpour. He doesn’t have his jacket. The image of Elliot, shivering and turning blue in his little sleeper, drives me forward. My eyes strain to see in the dim light, every breath I take ending in a cry for my missing child.
I can’t leave him out here; I can’t.
Then I realize the beach isn’t empt
y.
There is someone standing by the rocks, watching me.
Waiting for me...
“Elliot!”
My scream travels farther this time, echoing through the storm. Strength I didn’t know I had floods my legs, and I run faster.
As I picture my missing son and how wonderful it will feel to wrap my arms around him again, I give no thought to my own safety.
I run toward the dark figure on the beach.
Sarah
I tilt my head and let the sun caress my face, resisting the urge to close my eyes. Elliot burbles on my chest, and I stroke the soft blond down on his head.
“Lucky baby,” I whisper. “Look what a handsome man your father is.”
Sometimes it’s difficult to believe how lucky we both are. Warwick is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen—it’s still hard to believe he’s my husband. He grins at me now, flashing the kind of teeth most people will never achieve without hours in a dentist’s chair. His father catches Warwick smiling at me and gives him a friendly nudge.
“Pay attention, son. We don’t want to burn the steaks.” My husband returns his attention to the grill. It’s a gorgeous day, perfect for relaxing on the veranda of our East Hamptons home.
Edward Taylor-Cox winks at me and the good-natured jostling between father and son continues. Though Edward’s hair is silver and the skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles, he is still movie-star handsome. Warwick is destined to age well. I am a lucky woman indeed.
Lucky, lucky, lucky...
One of our maids breaks my reverie. “More iced tea, miss?”
I hadn’t noticed my glass was empty. This is the first truly nice weather we’ve had in weeks. Too bad House Beautiful couldn’t have come today, instead of last Thursday when it was raining. “Yes, please.” I hand Emily my sweating glass.
“She’ll have plain water,” Warwick’s mother says with a frown. “Too much caffeine is bad for the baby.”