And someone else.
He didn’t recognize the sleek white Ford Crown Victoria parked at the curb directly in front of his parents’ house, but it occurred to him that the police department favored that make and model for its officers and detectives.
What was it doing here?
The potential answer did nothing to reassure him.
Suddenly, all the happiness that had filled him just a moment ago evaporated, pushed aside by a wall of anxiety.
Whoever had come was here about Venus.
Chapter Thirteen
Trevor’s first instinct was to make a wide U-turn, turn the car around and head back to his apartment. But running would only postpone the inevitable.
If there was an inevitable.
After all, it might not be what he thought. He might just be overreacting, dramatizing it in his head because he was so afraid of losing the happiness he’d stumbled across.
So afraid of losing her.
Maybe the owner of the Crown Victoria car had parked it at the curb in front of his parents’ house because there were no other available spaces. With ten houses packed into the cul de sac and each residence having at least two cars if not more, parking on the block was at a premium.
The white vehicle didn’t necessarily have to belong to a member of the police department, Trevor argued silently. Other people drove white Crown Victorias besides law enforcement agents.
Trevor’s heart felt like lead in his chest.
He was only fooling himself. He didn’t believe in coincidences. With the car parked right here, after they’d gone to the police station, only one explanation made sense. A potential match to Venus had been found.
Venus sensed it, too. He could tell by her body language. Looking out the window, she had become ramrod-stiff in her seat.
Trevor tried his best to sound upbeat, as if this could only be a good thing. And, after all, just because someone might claim her didn’t mean she was married. It could be a mother, father, sister, brother or even a second aunt, twice removed, who had come for her.
So why did he feel like a prisoner walking the last mile?
“Looks like we’re about to find out your secret identity, Venus,” he said with all the cheerfulness that he could muster.
She surprised him by putting her hand on his arm, squeezing hard. It was an urgent gesture. “Drive,” she told him.
It was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her. “What?”
“Drive,” she repeated, more urgently this time. “Go to the restaurant. Go back to your apartment. Anyplace. Just drive.”
He wanted to. God help him, he wanted to. But if he did, if somehow they managed to elude whatever or whoever was waiting for her in his parents’ house, it would only be temporary. And until they knew what it was, she would always wonder what had been waiting for her behind door number one.
So he took the lead, telling himself he had to be strong. For both their sakes. “Venus, I really doubt that the police detective you spoke to at the precinct is here on a social call or because he’s hoping to get an early-bird discount at Kate’s Kitchen.”
Venus dropped her hand from his arm, letting it fall into her lap. Her eyes were downcast. “I know,” she said so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “That’s why I want you to drive away.”
Did she know something? Had something come back to her? Was she afraid? “Don’t you want to find out who you are?”
“No.” She turned to him, her eyes asking him not to do this, not to make her go in. “No, I don’t,” she emphasized. “I like where I’m at right now. I like who I am.” She took a breath. “Maybe I won’t after I find out.”
“Whatever your name is, Venus, Jane or Rumplestilt-skin, it doesn’t matter.” He waved away any possible label. “You’re still you inside.”
She blew out a long breath. “Right now, the ‘me’ inside is really scared, Trevor. Really scared,” she repeated softly, glancing toward the front door.
“There’s nothing to be scared of.” For a second, he laced his hand through hers, affording her the strength of human contact. “I’ll be there with you all the way.”
He was wrong, she thought. There was something to be scared of. The minute she walked in through that door, she stood to lose everything. She could feel it.
“There’s everything to be scared of,” she countered. “What if I’m married?”
It was the same question that haunted him. He strove to be the voice of reason, despite the fact that he felt anything but reasonable. “Wouldn’t you rather know than not know?”
“No.” She shook her head so hard, her hair fairly bounced along. “There’s a reason they say no news is good news.” The jitteriness inside her continued to grow. “Because until you get that news, you can go on pretending that everything’s okay. Once you hear it, there’s no more pretending.”
Trevor slipped his arm around her as best he could and pulled her to him. Inclining his head, he kissed her.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said with such certainty that she was tempted to believe him. Though she knew he had no power to make such a guarantee, she clung to his words as if they were a talisman that could protect her.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered against his chest.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, loving the earthy, soft feel. “Deal.” Drawing back, he unbuckled his seat belt. “Ready?”
She took a deep breath. The butterflies in her stomach refused to calm down. “Ready.”
After getting out of the vehicle, he came around to her side and opened the door for her. When he took her hand in his, it felt icy. He made no comment, only gave her a squeeze and smiled as encouragingly as he could at her.
The moment they walked into the house, Trevor’s heart sank.
His parents were in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Both were dressed for work and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Opposite them, on the love seat, was a rumpled-looking man with faded chestnut hair. He appeared as if he’d inhabited his skin a very long time and the fit was not always a good one. The other man was his complete antithesis. He was younger, handsome, impeccably groomed and had an air about him that fairly shouted of affluence, confidence and success.
Seeing them, the younger man rose to his feet like someone in a trance. And then he crossed to them—to her—in less than a heartbeat.
“Oh God, I thought you were dead, Gemma,” he cried, embracing her. Venus stood there, her arms pinned to her sides, a look of dismay and surprise on her face. She didn’t know this man.
Trevor wanted to pull her away, to offer her the shelter of his own arms. But he held himself in check, even though a wave of hostility rose inside him.
If this was supposedly someone of significance in her life, where the hell had he been for the last two months? Biding his time? Waiting for her to show up on her own? Damn, if he’d been the one who’d lost Venus, he would have moved heaven and earth and all the locations in between until he’d found her.
Venus withstood the man’s embrace as long as she felt it politely necessary, then drew back and away from the stranger who smelled of rich cologne. “Who’s Gemma?” she asked.
A frown marred almost perfect features. “You’re kidding, right?” He eyed her incredulously, as if waiting for a punch line.
“She’s not kidding,” Trevor informed him tersely. He didn’t add what he desperately wanted to say: back off.
He looked at his parents, as if to ask why they even had this man here in their house.
“We told you that she had amnesia,” Bryan reminded the young man.
The man’s eyes shifted from Venus, back to Bryan. “I know that’s what you said, but I really didn’t believe it,” he admitted. The expression on his face was just slightly rueful. “I guess I should have.” He examined the others like a man accustomed to getting answers when he posed questions. “How long is something like this supposed to last?”
�
�There’s no telling,” Trevor informed him, barely curbing his dislike. Something about the man rubbed him the wrong way. “The doctor in the E.R. said that it might come back all at once—or not at all,” he added with significant weight.
The response left the other man unfazed. “It’ll come back,” he said confidently. “I’ve just got to get her home, in familiar surroundings. We were supposed to get married the Sunday she disappeared,” he explained, never realizing that he’d just cut out Trevor’s heart. “I thought she’d accidentally fallen overboard and drowned, like that actress did years ago. Natalie somebody-or-other.”
“Wood,” Kate interjected softly. “You’re referring to Natalie Wood.”
“Whatever,” the young man muttered irreverently.
Trevor didn’t care for his response to his mother, either. This guy was a developmentally arrested human being, he thought.
“But all that doesn’t matter,” the younger man was saying, addressing his words to a distressed Venus. “You’re alive and you’re safe.” He continued holding her hand as if she were his property and had no right to freedom without his say-so. “The marriage license is still good for another three weeks. Why don’t we just go to city hall and get married right now?” he suggested like someone who expected not to be crossed. “I’ve got a friend who’s a judge.”
Whoa, what was he trying to pull? “What’s your hurry?” Trevor asked.
The man’s expression clearly said that he had no right to question him. “No hurry. By my calculations, even though it’s no business of yours, we’re two months late.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both his mother’s and his father’s annoyance. “And where have you been those two months?” Trevor inquired. “We filed a report about her the morning of the day after I pulled her out of the ocean.”
Instead of answering, the man turned to Venus. “Then you did fall overboard.”
“Apparently,” Venus murmured. Something withdrew inside her, curling up into a little ball. Had she really been engaged to marry this man? He was too sleek, too picture-perfect and, if her instincts were right, too in love with the sound of his own voice to be someone she would care for enough to marry.
And yet, why would he go to the trouble of looking for her and showing up to take her with him if it was all a lie? The answer was, he wouldn’t. That meant that they were engaged.
A shiver slithered up and down her spine.
“My God, what a terrible ordeal you’ve been through,” he said, implying that life with the Marlowes was a “terrible ordeal.” “But all that’s behind you. I’m here now and I’m going to take care of you.”
“She doesn’t need anyone to take care of her,” Trevor fairly growled. He hardly recognized his own voice and saw Kate looking at him in surprise. “She can take care of herself.”
The man scowled at him. “And you are?”
Trevor squelched the overwhelming desire to say, “None of your business” and instead answered civilly, “Trevor Marlowe.”
“Well, Trevor Marlowe—” the other man enunciated his name with an ill-concealed air of haughtiness “—I’ve known Gemma for six years. And you’ve known her for, what, a couple of months perhaps?” There was contempt in his eyes. “That hardly qualifies you as an expert on what she needs or doesn’t need.”
Until that moment, Trevor hadn’t known he had a temper, but he felt it flaring. Keeping his anger under control took considerable effort. “Something tells me that when it comes to Venus—”
The man wore an expression of disgust, as if he’d just discovered a dead rat inside his shoe. “And just who is this Venus?”
Venus raised her chin and proclaimed with quiet dignity, “I am.”
The man in the expensive suit appeared to tap in to what could only be assumed as a very short supply of patience and answered, “No, you’re Gemma Burnett, daughter of the late Hayden Burnett, and I’m Baylor Evans—” he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles “—your fiancé and your father’s successor at Richfield Bank.”
Venus pulled back her hand just as Bryan asked, “The international banking firm?”
Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, but from where Trevor was standing, it looked as if the man who’d just nibbled Venus’s knuckles puffed up his chest.
“The very same. Apparently someone here actually reads the newspapers.” Baylor turned toward Venus. “Gemma, we really have to be going. I’ve postponed all my morning meetings, so there’s just enough time to get down to city hall. We’ll say our vows and have a formal wedding later.”
Her eyes darted toward Trevor. Having him there gave her all the courage she needed. “No,” Venus answered firmly.
“No?” It was quite obvious that Baylor Evans was unaccustomed to hearing that word.
Venus shook her head vehemently. “I can’t just run off and marry you. I don’t even know you.”
Baylor blew out an impatient breath. He’d apparently had enough of this.
“Yes, you do,” he told her, as if insisting on it would make her remember. His eyes bored into her. “I’m Baylor.”
Sensing Venus’s tension and desperate to keep her at all costs, Trevor stepped in. “She needs more than your business card, Evans.”
For a moment, it looked at if Trevor and Baylor were going to lock horns. Kate rose to her feet, physically putting herself between the two men vying for the young woman in her living room.
“I know this must be difficult for you,” she said, addressing her words not just to Trevor, but to Baylor, as well, “but you have to put Gemma’s needs before your own.” Her attention turned to Baylor. “She’s been through a great deal and she needs a little time to get to know you again.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Marlowe,” Baylor said, like a man who had very little respect to spare, “I don’t have time for games.”
“A person’s emotional well-being is never a game, Mr. Evans,” Kate pointed out gently, compassion in her eyes.
Faced with that, Baylor appeared to back down a fraction of an inch. “I didn’t mean to imply that. You’re right, of course, it’s just that you can well imagine how anxious I am, in light of what’s happened, to finally make her mine. I don’t want to lose her again.”
The bastard was playing for sympathy, Trevor thought in disgust.
“Just how did you happen to lose her the first time?” Trevor ventured. He followed his jab with a solid punch. “And why haven’t we heard anything from you until now?”
Baylor answered the last question first. It was obvious that he was struggling with his temper again and that he resented having to account for his actions to anyone, let alone a stranger he felt was beneath him.
“I’ve been overseas the last two months.”
“Well, you certainly don’t look like someone who thought their fiancée was dead,” Trevor said sarcastically.
Baylor’s brown eyes, already somewhat small by most standards, disappeared into slits. “I have responsibilities. I can’t just indulge myself with third-rate theatrics just because some buffoon thinks he and Gemma were fated to meet and he needs to challenge me.”
“And how did that come about again?” Trevor pressed, refusing to let him off the hook until Baylor gave him a satisfactory answer. “The losing part,” he emphasized, waiting.
Baylor addressed his answer to the police detective who had brought him here. “Gemma fell overboard while on my yacht.”
“Fell, or was pushed?”
Baylor balked. “Why in heaven’s name would I push her overboard and then come looking for her?”
“Looking for her after two months,” Trevor pointed out. “Long after her body would have been carried off to sea, leaving you in the clear.”
Baylor drew himself up to his full height—which was still less than Trevor’s on a bad day. “Are you saying that I actually tried to get rid of her?”
“Your words, not mine,” Trevor answe
red glibly.
Kate clapped her hands together, demanding attention. The two looked her way. But it was Bryan who spoke.
“Back to your corners,” he ordered. “You’re not going to settle anything getting in each other’s faces.” He turned to Baylor. “If she fell overboard, why didn’t anyone try to rescue her?”
“We were on the other side of the yacht. One of my crew thought he heard a splash, but he couldn’t be sure. We made our way over to the starboard side, where he thought he heard the splash, but there was no evidence that anyone had been there. I had one of my men dive, looking around the area to see if anyone had fallen. They didn’t find anything. At the time, I didn’t even know that the so-called missing person was Gemma. For all I knew, it was one of the crew—”
“And what, you don’t save them because they’re replaceable?” Trevor jeered.
Seething now, Baylor ignored him, explaining for Kate and Bryan’s benefit. “My diver didn’t find anyone. I chalked it up to my overactive imagination. But later that night, when I couldn’t find Gemma anywhere—” he put his hand over hers in a proprietary manner that rankled Trevor “—I knew it had to have been her that I’d heard going into the water. I can’t tell you how heartsick I was.”
“But you still went to Europe,” Trevor retorted with disgust.
Baylor’s eyes turned even darker. “I already explained that there were a lot of people depending on me to do a good job.”
“You still could have filed a missing-person’s report,” Trevor insisted. “Why didn’t you?”
Baylor’s annoyance was palatable and obvious. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. If I was, I would have filed it immediately. Right now, her estate is in a state of limbo.”
Was this proof of the man’s devotion? He was in love with her money? “Her estate?” How could this buffoon think of monetary details when he thought she’d drowned?
Baylor opened his mouth to answer, then deliberately shut it again.
“I see no reason why I should continue answering your questions. You have no right to interrogate me and I am through being polite.” He turned toward Venus. “Gemma?” he said expectantly.
[Kate's Boys 02] - The Bride With No Name Page 13