by Linda Kage
“In the dreams, Mr. Pan was breathing hard, his face full of soot, and his skin bubbling and bleeding where he’d burned himself to free me from the fire. I reached for him, begging him not to leave me, but he said he had to go get my mom.”
“I waited there for them, unable to move, listening to the fire consume my house, smelling my own burned skin and experiencing the worst agony of my life. I really thought he’d be able to get her and bring her back out. Finally, I passed out. I remember waking a few times when the ambulance and paramedics arrived. I remember being lifted onto the gurney. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of the inside of the ambulance. I tried to ask about Mom and Mr. Pan, but I couldn’t talk very well. They said my heart stopped three times, and I coded before I was brought back again. The first time was when I was lying here in the grass, waiting for my mom to escape from the fire I’d started.”
“Jesus, Isobel.” I shook my head and reached for her, pulling her into my arms.
She rested her head on my shoulder.
“She died because I was spoiled and selfish. Mrs. Pan’s husband, Kit’s dad, died because I wanted to pout and break the rules. My childhood home burned to the ground because I just had to see my boyfriend.”
I wanted to argue and tell her those weren’t the reasons why. But I knew she wouldn’t believe me. No one could convince her of this; she would have to convince herself someday. I could only be there to hold her through it until the guilt and misery passed.
“What happened to him?” I asked. “Eric.”
“Oh, he left me,” she said, her voice bland and unconcerned. “I was too hideous for him to deal with after that.”
I stiffened and pulled back to see her face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She shrugged and lifted her face. “No one blamed him, least of all me. That was before all my surgeries and graphs. I look tons better now.” Then she touched her own scars. “Remember that comment you made about how my ear hadn’t melted halfway down my neck? Well, it actually did, but they were able to move it back to the proper place. I looked awful. Horrific. I can’t fault Eric for leaving.”
Well, I could. I didn’t give him any kind of pass at all for taking off. The jerk bastard piece of shit. “A misplaced ear is no reason to leave a girl.”
“He was only seventeen,” she tried to explain.
“I don’t fucking care,” I muttered. “He’s an ass.”
Her smile was affectionate. Pressing her palms to my chest, she looked into my eyes, eyes that told me they loved me, and she said, “You’re such a good person; I can see why it’s hard for you to understand imperfection in others. Eric wasn’t—”
“I’m not that good,” I argued, shaking my head. “And I’m damn well not perfect. There’s nothing special about me at all. I make just as many mistakes as the next guy. But I’m not going to forgive some douche who left you after you were scarred no matter how much you defend him. He’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “You already said that.”
“Well it bared repeating.”
“You make me happy,” she murmured, smoothing her hand up my chest until she wrapped her fingers around the back of my neck. Then she leaned in until her mouth was only inches from me. “You make me feel light. And free.”
“Strange,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers and swallowing to combat the urge to kiss her. “You always make me feel heavy. Heavy and hot. So damn hot.”
I burned for her.
“Shaw?” she whispered.
“Yeah?” I whispered right back, my body thrumming and pulse quickening.
She licked her lips. “It’s five minutes after four.”
“Oh, thank God.” Officially off work, I crushed my mouth to hers.
Drawing her into my arms, I hauled her against me. When her breasts gouged my chest, I groaned. When my arousal prodded her hip, she gasped. Our hands gripped and tugged at each other while our teeth clashed and tongues tangled. I gripped her ass, securing her to me, while she rubbed her hip against my front, making me growl a throaty curse of pleasure.
Neither of us heard the door from the house open.
“What the hell is going on?” a voice snarled.
Isobel and I leapt apart before spinning to face the new arrival. Shame and fear filled my veins as Henry set his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes.
“Dad,” Isobel gasped. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth before glancing my way. I caught her eye, and we shared an oops mingled with an oh fuck look. Together, we turned back to him.
I looked down when she took my hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for some reason that eased me. No matter what happened, we were a united front.
“I kissed Shaw,” she announced.
That was obvious, and yet I still very nearly pissed myself when she said it.
“And I like him. A lot.” She used my hand she was holding to jerk me closer to her, all the while not taking her eyes off her dad. “He likes me too. Do you have a problem with that?”
Henry narrowed his gaze on his daughter, then glanced down at our connected hands before he looked up, right into my eyes.
I gulped, unable to decipher what he was thinking.
“I’d like to talk to Shaw in private,” he said to Isobel as he kept his gaze steady on me.
But Isobel shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“But—”
“He already told me about the reason he was brought to work here as a handyman.”
Henry pierced me with a deadly glare. “Oh, did he?”
He kind of looked as if he wanted to castrate me.
“And I’m not mad at you,” Isobel continued. “You were worried about me; I can respect and appreciate that. I’m not happy that you brought another person here specifically for me, to keep me company, or for whatever reason you did it, but since your misplaced intentions actually turned out for the best, I can forgive you and move on.”
“Well…” Henry seemed momentarily boggled before he nodded, saying a humble, “Thank you. I’m glad you realize I was coming from a place of love and only wanted you to be—”
“I know, Dad.”
Her quiet words seemed to affect him dramatically. His face flushed, eyes watered, and he began to cough. Then he nodded, cleared his throat, and shifted his gaze back to me.
“Nevertheless,” he drew out slowly. “Shaw is my employee, and I would like to speak to him. Alone.”
I nodded and started to step forward, but Isobel tightened her grip on my hand, keeping me next to her.
“Only if you promise his job isn’t at risk and you won’t do anything to harm his mother,” she said, trying to negotiate with her father for my sake.
After a sharp scowl my way, Henry turned back to her. “He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” With a nod, she added, “And I believe him.”
“Thank you,” I told her sincerely. I opened my mouth to let her know how much that meant to me, but her dad interrupted.
“In my office, Hollander. Now.”
Leaning over, I smacked a quick kiss to Isobel’s scarred cheek, then I hurried after her father.
Henry waited to speak until we reached his office. And even after he shut the door and turned to me, his gaze flashing with outrage, he kept his voice low, as if he were afraid Isobel was listening at the door.
“This wasn’t part of the agreement,” he hissed.
“I know, sir.” Keeping myself military stiff, I nodded. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
He narrowed his eyes, studying me shrewdly. “You didn’t mean for what to happen, exactly?”
“Isobel and me.”
“And what is happening between you and Izzy?”
I crinkled my eyebrows. “That’s really not your business,” I said slowly.
He didn’t seem to care for that answer. His face a mask of anger, he marched closer, waving his finger in my face. “This is an outrage. I brought you into
this house to make her feel alive again. Not to…not to…”
“And I did,” I said evenly. “You can’t deny how much more active and social she is now.”
He growled and narrowed his eyes.
So I added, “And in return, she made me feel alive again. I know I wasn’t supposed to get as close as I did to her, and I know with my station in life, I’ll never be good enough to—”
“Dammit, Hollander,” he growled. “Don’t make me out to look like a snob. I brought you here because of her, just to get her to open up. It wasn’t supposed to become some grand romance. You weren’t supposed to pretend a friendship.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t pretend anything.” But he kept going as if he didn’t even hear me.
“You weren’t supposed to seduce her, and you damn well weren’t supposed to—”
“Fall in love with her?” I cut in, anger vibrating under my skin. “I’m sorry, but you never made that clear. It wasn’t in the contract, and it certainly wasn’t something I could control.”
I swore, if he could, Henry would’ve exhaled fire from his nose. His glare was scorching. With a slow snarl, he bit out, “So you’re going to play the love card, are you?”
I blinked, confused. “It’s not a card. It’s the truth.”
“Is it?” Isobel’s father asked quietly, his gaze boring into mine. “Or is this the desperate man who came into my office thinking he finally found his ticket to securing his future in the arms of my wealthy, vulnerable daughter?”
Something in me snapped. There was no other way to explain it. I couldn’t stand there and let him—or anyone else—question my feelings. Stepping threateningly close, I glared into his blue eyes that were the same shade as Isobel’s.
“I will let you question my affections one time, and this one time only. But don’t ever make that mistake again. She is your daughter; you know how amazing she is. Do you honestly think I was able to spend the last two months in her company without noticing it too? Without falling for her? You’re smarter than that, Mr. Nash. You could put her out on the street right now, without a penny to her name, and I would take her in, happy to have her with nothing but the clothes on her back. Isn’t that why you hired me in the first place? Because you knew that was the kind of man I am? I love your daughter. And if you want to fire me and break our agreement because of it, fine. I’ll find another way to take care of my mother. But it won’t stop me from feeling the way I do about Isobel.”
Henry stared at me long after I’d finished talking. Then he blew out a long breath, ran his hands through his thinning hair, and fell into the seat in front of his desk. “I hope this doesn’t make me a fool, but I actually believe you.”
He still hadn’t answered my most pressing question. So I asked, “So did I just lose my job here or not?”
With an amused sniff, he glanced up. He looked tired, but resigned. “No. But my original warning stands. If you hurt her, you’re gone.”
I nodded, perfectly fine with that. “I’d sooner cut out my own heart,” I promised.
chapter
TWENTY
Isobel pounced as soon as I exited her dad’s office. “Well?” she demanded, grabbing my hand.
Her worry made me grin. “Well, what?” I teased, leaning in to shift my nose across her cheekbone.
Huffing out her impatience, she nudged me back far enough to see my face. “Well, what’d he say? Did he try to fire you? Pay you off? Chase you away? Keep us apart?”
With a laugh, I tugged her into my arms. “No, no, and no. He already promised you he wouldn’t fire me and…what? Pay me off? Are you kidding? He’s pretty much already paid me off by taking care of my mother.”
“But—”
“And how exactly did you think he’d keep us apart? We’re both adults. That’s not even…” I shook my head, cracking up over her concerns.
Isobel sniffed and shoved against my chest. “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny. He could’ve—”
“He couldn’t have done anything to keep me away from you.” Then I winked. “He has no mob ties, remember?”
She shook her head slowly, not amused. “Don’t tell me you weren’t as worried as I was when you went into that room. Your face was pale and hands were shaking. He could’ve threatened your mother’s security.”
“But he didn’t,” I murmured, burying my nose in her hair. “So it’s all good.”
“What did he say?” Calming against me, she softened her voice.
“He just wanted me to convince him I genuinely liked you.”
She looked up into my eyes. “And did you?”
My grin was immediate. “I convinced you, didn’t I? Of course, I convinced him.”
Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “It’s true, you are rather convincing. It almost makes me believe you may genuinely like me after all.”
“Oh, you…” Realizing she was teasing me, I lifted my eyebrows in mock warning. “You’re just begging for me to tickle an apology out of you, aren’t you?”
“What? No.” Her eyes went wide, and she immediately backed away, holding her elbows tight to her sides, pretty much letting me know exactly where she was the most ticklish. “You wouldn’t.”
“Take it back, and I won’t.” I advanced, holding up curled fingers that were prepared to tickle. “Tell me I’m not just being convincing, that I’m merely being honest.”
She backed away slowly, shaking her head. “But what if you are just an excellent actor?”
“Isobel,” I growled. “I’m warning you.” I reached out and she squealed her surprise. “Okay, okay. I know you like me. You’re not just saying it.”
I pulled her into my arms and pressed my brow to hers. “Prove it.”
She stopped tightening against possible tickles and straightened to look into my eyes. Then she stared at me a moment, her face uncovered and scars on full display. Lips relaxing into a smile, she cupped my face in her hands and kissed me.
Behind us, a throat cleared. We reluctantly pulled apart to glance over and find Henry in the doorway of his office, watching us. This time, getting caught didn’t make us leap apart. Instead, Isobel and I shifted closer to each other, facing him side by side.
Henry’s gruff, censuring stare eased when he looked at his daughter. “You do seem happier,” he finally relented.
Her entire presence brightened. “I am.”
Henry gave a single nod. “Then so am I.” After a single approving nod my way, he disappeared back into his office, where he closed the door.
I blew out a relieved breath. Isobel turned to me, her smile letting me know she was onto me. I’d been even more worried about my conversation with her dad than she’d probably been.
But what she said to me was, “Are you going to go straight home, or do you have plans this evening?”
The question was odd enough to make me pause and focus on her face. She looked expectant and hopeful, her eyes already begging, which let me know she wanted something from me. My blood pulsed with anticipation. I moved toward her, ready to give her anything.
“I don’t have plans,” I said, focusing on her mouth. “Why? Did you want me to stay?”
She bit her lip. “Actually, no. I’d like to go somewhere. Do you think you could take me?”
I shook my head, certain I’d misheard her. “What?”
“I said, I’d like go—”
“Are you kidding me?” I shouted. “Yes! I’d love to take you somewhere. You mean, out of the house, away from Porter Hall, right? This is so…holy shit. Where do you want to go?”
She bit her lip. “It’s a surprise.”
I blinked. “A surprise?”
With a nod, she cleared her throat and glanced away. “So…are you in or not?”
Nodding freakishly hard, I said, “Of course I’m in. Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. Gladly.”
“When’s the last time you left Porter Hall?” I asked, glancing toward the passenger side of the truck as we waited
for the gates to swing open and let us out of the driveway.
Isobel bit her lip as she thought about the answer. “About six months ago, I think.” She shrugged. “I had a checkup with the doctor.”
“And before that?”
She kept her gaze fixed out the front windshield, but her hands sat tightly clasped in her lap, revealing her nerves. Leaving the property was a big deal for her. I reached out to cover her cold, trembling hands with my warm, steady ones, letting her know I understood. When she glanced over, I sent her a bolstering smile.
“Which way?”
She told me the address of where she wanted to go. I nodded, because I knew the area. Strangely, it wasn’t too far from my apartment. Then I tightened my grip on her knuckles and pulled onto the roadway.
The trip into town was quiet. I kept thinking I needed to start some brilliant, witty conversational topic, but the more I tried to think up something interesting to say, the less my brain spun ideas. Suddenly, I realized I was nervous. Not because I was going out into public with Isobel, but because she trusted me enough to take her there.
What if someone said something or did something to offend her and she never attempted another outing again? It was my responsibility to make it worth her while, to make her want to try again. This duty felt massive and almost too heavy for me to bear.
I wanted her to enjoy her time away from Porter Hall.
“Hey, what’s that?”
Isobel’s voice shook me from my thoughts. Glancing in the direction she pointed, I grinned.
The entire sidewall facing the road of the abandoned brick warehouse we passed bore a striking painting of a wolf grinning out at all the cars that passed. Next to it, a quote read:
The best way to find out if you can trust someone is to trust them.
“That’s the work of Black Crimson,” I said. “You like it?”
“It’s breathtaking,” she murmured. “And the quote sounds like someone famous should’ve written it.”
“Someone famous did write it. Ernest Hemingway,” I said. When she glanced at me, I shrugged. “I had to look it up after the first time I saw the painting.”
Nodding, she glanced back over her shoulder to take in the last of the masterpiece before we’d driven past it completely. Turning forward again, she asked, “Who’s Black Crimson?”