Vengeful Shadows

by Bronwyn Green

Common sense and restraint fled as it did whenever she touched him. His arms tightened around her, and she whimpered into his mouth as his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt to discreetly caress her skin.

  “Tessa, really. Must you make a spectacle of yourself on our doorstep?”

  Zander lifted his head but kept his arm securely around Tessa’s waist. This had to be Bitsy Maycroft glaring at him from the edge of an ornate, marble foyer. Which probably made the uncomfortable-looking man standing next to her, Ted.

  He extended his hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Maycroft. How do you do?”

  An awkward silence expanded and filled the space between them. Apparently remembering their impeccable breeding, they returned his greeting.

  Tessa laced her fingers through his and stepped forward. “Mother, Daddy, this is Zander York. Zander, Bitsy and Ted Maycroft.”

  Zander couldn’t believe the passionate, kindhearted woman who was working her way into his heart had sprung from these people. “Are you sure you weren’t switched at birth?” he whispered as they followed her parents into the house.

  Her uninhibited laughter echoed in the ostentatious hallway, and he fought the urge to drag her into one of the many empty rooms they passed. Even her giggles turned him on. Aidan was right. He was in sad, sad shape.

  “Dinner isn’t quite ready. Why don’t we have a drink in the library?” Bitsy offered.

  Tessa drew him into the room. It smelled of expensive, leather furniture and books. One of the few things he missed about his parents’ house was the library. The primary difference between the two rooms was that the books in his home had actually been read. Glancing around, he couldn’t see a single volume that had been opened. All of the spines were in pristine condition, appearing untouched by human hands.

  Bitsy immersed herself in her role of the perfect hostess and passed out lead-crystal glasses of wine, never noticing the sadness that lurked behind her daughter’s eyes. His mother would have dragged her into the bathroom for a daughterly chat by now. At least, that’s what she’d always done with Julia when she’d sensed her daughter-in-law was upset.

  “So where did you two meet?” Ted asked, bringing him back to the present.

  “We’ve been neighbors for a couple of years,” Tessa volunteered.

  “And she finally agreed to give me a chance,” Zander added, dropping a kiss on Tessa’s cheek. “Your daughter is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  Bitsy said nothing, just wore the same exasperated, disappointed expression she’d had when she opened the front door. Ted, however, looked pleased.

  His approval faded at a sharp look from Bitsy. She pasted an obviously false smile on her face and thrust a glass at her husband.

  “Thank you, dear,” he said.

  She smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “I’ll go see how dinner is coming along.”

  The doorbell rang, and Ted excused himself.

  “I can’t believe this. Is it time to go, yet?” Tessa said under her breath.

  Zander shook his head, unable to stifle a grin.

  Her blue eyes sparkled, and all he could think about was making love with her. Tonight. He traced the gentle curve of her jaw and kissed her upturned lips.

  Pulling back, he gazed at her wondering how he’d gotten so incredibly lucky. Her eyes glowed with desire, deepening the blue until he thought he might drown.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be much more concerned about the ease with which they’d slipped into the roles of lovers. Instead of running scared, he found himself wanting more of her. What if he could have this with Tessa? Every day—for the rest of their lives. Was it possible he was falling in love with her?

  A movement at the doorway caught her eye. She turned her head and stiffened. Her glass hit the ceramic tile hearth.

  “Tessa?”

  Her lips parted in shock, and her hands clenched in small, angry fists. He glanced in the direction where she focused as another man followed Ted into the room.

  “Tessa dear, I think you remember—”

  “Weston,” she whispered as her father spoke.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zander wrapped a protective arm around Tessa as the blood drained from her face. His gut twisted, and his fists tightened at the smug superiority Weston exuded. Who the hell was this guy? What pain had he caused her? Was he a former lover? Whoever he was, Zander had the sudden urge to pulverize the man. Animosity rose like a fiery beast in his chest.

  Decidedly uncomfortable, Ted glanced between Tessa and Weston, muttering something about needing to clean up the mess. Bitsy would likely have a coronary if she saw the broken crystal or the blood-red wine seeping toward the light-colored carpet.

  Stepping closer to the fireplace, Weston glanced between Tessa and the wine glass with a self-satisfied smirk. It was all Zander could do not to deck the man. Tessa stiffened, and Zander tightened his arm around her waist. Primal possession reared. He wanted this jerk away from her.

  “Tessa,” Weston remarked. “It’s been a while.”

  Her expression hardened into something Zander had never seen before. “Not nearly long enough.”

  She snatched her purse from where she’d laid it on a table and stalked toward the door, making a wide arc around Weston. He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. His smug attitude increased when she stopped, her body rigid.

  “How have you been, kitten?”

  “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

  The man simply smiled. Zander had the urge to wipe away the condescending expression with his fist.

  Instead, he moved to Tessa’s side. He wanted to put his arm around, her but she was wound too tightly. He knew she wouldn’t want this man to see her flinch, so he stayed close enough to offer his support but not close enough to crowd her. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded, her purse clenched tightly.

  “Move,” he growled at Weston.

  The other man said nothing. He simply waited, watching her with a predatory stare. He toyed with her, enjoying her distress.

  This had gone on long enough. Zander placed his palm in the center of the other man’s chest and shoved. “I said, move.”

  Weston laughed as Tessa skirted him and left the room. Zander moved to follow but Weston intercepted him.

  “So is she still a good fuck? My whole frat house thought so. We used to have a good time—”

  Fury washed through Zander’s blood. He grabbed Weston by the throat and pinned him to the wall, slamming his head against the hardwood with a satisfying thunk. Zander relished the sensation of his fingers sinking into the other man’s neck and the sound of his labored breathing.

  Tessa’s hurried footfalls sounded like bursts of gunfire on the parquet floor as she raced back. She tugged at his arm. “Let him go!” she rasped.

  Zander looked from Tessa’s anguished expression to Weston. The man’s face had turned an unhealthy shade of purple, and he struggled against Zander’s grip.

  Zander squeezed a little harder before relaxing his fingers. “Apologize.”

  “For what?” the other man wheezed. “It’s all true.”

  Zander shook his head. The guy couldn’t expect him to believe that about Tessa.

  She took a shuddering breath. “He’s telling the truth. Now, let him go.”

  Zander’s heart slowed, and his hold loosened. His hand fell slack to his side.

  Weston glared, adjusting his tie. Without another word, he fumed toward the dining room.

  Zander turned to Tessa, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He tried to absorb everything he’d heard. This wasn’t possible. Not Tessa. Her sexual history wasn’t his business, but the thought of her with a host of other men cut him.

  Bitsy stormed toward them from the opposite end of the house. “Tessa Anne Maycroft!” she whispered harshly. “What is going on here?”

  Tessa spun to face the other woman. “What do you think is going on here? Why would you bring him he
re? You know how I feel about him.”

  Bitsy made a dismissive sound. “Honestly, that was ages ago. You’re going to refuse to talk to him because of some silly disagreement you two had in college?”

  “A disagreement?” Tessa shrieked. “You call what he did to me a disagreement?”

  Zander’s jaw ached from clenching his teeth. What had the bastard done to her?

  “How can you even—” Tessa shook with…rage? Fear? He wasn’t sure.

  “Now, let’s just forget about this unpleasantness,” Bitsy flashed Zander a look of intense dislike, “and go have a lovely dinner.”

  Tessa’s entire body sagged, defeat etched her face. “Have you ever listened to me?”

  It killed Zander to hear the pain in her voice but her mother seemed completely unmoved. Couldn’t she see the anguish in her daughter’s eyes?

  “I have to go,” Tessa said woodenly. Movements stiff, she slowly made her way to the door. Like a zombie from a bad horror film, Zander followed her to the driveway,

  As if listening from a great distance, he heard her offer to call a cab. Numbly, he shook his head and opened the passenger door of his jeep and urged her inside.

  They drove in silence. She’d pulled so deeply inside herself, it seemed as though she’d never speak again. He wanted to offer her some kind of comfort, but he wasn’t sure what he’d be comforting her for. Her pathetic excuse for a mother? Her slimy ex-boyfriend?

  Instead of the street signs and oncoming traffic, he saw Tessa with a parade of nameless, faceless men. The remembered sounds of her passion as he’d made love to her nearly drowned out the noise of the wheels on wet pavement. He’d thought he’d known her. He’d thought he was falling in love with her. Did that woman even exist?

  He glanced at Tessa. She stared through the windshield as if she could find the answers to the riddles of the universe if she waited patiently enough. He kept expecting her to say something, anything, that would alleviate the betrayal eating at him.

  She hadn’t denied Weston’s ridiculous claims. Zander hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear her contradict them until now. But was that fair? How many women had he slept with? Professionally, he knew better than to fall into the trap of the double standard, yet here he was.

  She was still the same woman he’d seen every day for the past two years. The same woman who’d become his friend. The same woman he’d woken up with this morning. The same woman who’d made him consider the possibility of love.

  Her behavior since he’d known her didn’t match up with these revelations, but the new information didn’t change anything—except his perceptions. Again, he wondered if he’d ignored the flesh-and-blood woman in favor of what he’d imagined her to be. No, she wasn’t an angel, but she was the kindest most giving woman he’d ever known. He wouldn’t start judging her now.

  He pulled to the front of their house. Cutting the engine, he glanced at her. She stared out the window at the rain that had appropriately begun to fall as they’d left her parents’ home.

  “I’m really sorry about tonight.” She didn’t look at him. It was as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him. “I’m sorry…about everything.”

  With jerky movements, she opened the door and hopped out. He followed close behind, dashing through the rain. “Tessa. Wait.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”

  Oh hell no. Now, he was mad. She was running away. Again. “So that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

  She glanced at him. The streetlight glinted off the raindrops clinging to her hair and lashes. Her eyes were dull with loss and hurt. His heart ached at the sight of it.

  “We need to talk about what happened,” he said, water streaming over his face.

  “I think that everything that needed saying has been said.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this insane idea of yours. I’m not the person you thought I was.”

  He moved closer and cupped her cheek, wiping away water. He had no idea if it was rain or tears. As usual, she wasn’t about to clue him in. “Let’s go inside and talk,” he said.

  She shook her head and hurried to the porch.

  “Tessa!” He caught up with her on the landing. “This isn’t over.”

  “Yes. It is.” She raced up the stairs. Her shoes clattered loudly on the bare wood. She pulled her keys from her purse and unfastened the locks.

  “I’m not letting you leave like this.”

  “You’re not letting me?”

  Finally, an honest reaction. “Look,” he said more gently. “I’m just trying to understand what happened tonight.”

  She shrugged, looking over his left shoulder. “There’s nothing to understand. It was a lousy evening. I’ll see you around, okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. What about Weston?”

  Her movement stilled at his question. The apartment door hung open, seeming to wait for her answer as intently as Zander did. She spun on her heel.

  “What about him?”

  Weston was the key. “What exactly happened with him tonight?”

  “Nothing.” She flung the door into the wall and tiny pieces of plaster rained to the floor.

  He followed her into the living room. “Why did you stand up for him?”

  “I wasn’t standing up for him.” She smiled coldly. “What’s that old adage—don’t kill the messenger?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that everything he said was true.” Her voice was strained, almost brittle sounding. “I appreciate you getting out your shiny armor to defend my honor. But as you’ve noticed, I don’t have any.”

  The hurt in her eyes cut at him. He was a fool. Did it really matter how many men she’d slept with? They were both adults. Obviously, they both had pasts. It wasn’t fair of him to hold hers against her. If he were being honest, the real problem was jealousy. He wanted Tessa to himself. He didn’t want to know about the other men she’d had relationships with.

  Her shoes flew toward him as she kicked them off. He wasn’t sure if she’d aimed at him or the mat by the door. With shaking hands, she yanked off her jacket and draped it over the coat rack. The only sound was the steady beat of rain.

  She nodded toward the door. “Please go.”

  He squinted at her in confusion. “What?”

  “Look,” Exhaustion weighed heavy in her voice. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your little sexually repressed librarian fantasy, but I need you to leave now.”

  “My…”

  “I know you had me propped up on that angelic pedestal, but it’s hard to stay upright when I have to balance on the bodies of all of those frat boys.”

  “All of those guys…you really…?”

  Her eyes narrowed. He hadn’t meant to utter the words aloud but it was too late now.

  “What?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, now that you know, you think maybe I should have performed better having had all that practice?” Her lips trembled, but she pressed them together.

  His jaw tightened. “How could you think that after everything that’s happened between us?”

  Ignoring his outburst, looked away. “If you were hoping to be my first, you’re about ten years and an entire fraternity too late.”

  He moved toward her, but she backed away. “I wanted way more than that.” He laughed grimly. “I was hoping to be your last.”

  She whirled to face him, taking a shocked breath, before confusion and doggedness clouded her expression. “Look, if you’re worried about catching something…” Defeated, she sank onto the couch. “I’ve been tested every year since I was a sophomore in college.”

  He wanted to take her into his arms, keep her safe from the pain that haunted her. “Did you hear what I said? I want you, Tess.”

  For a moment, she looked hopeful, but she shook her head and smiled sadly, the fight gone out of her. “I know you mean well, but…it’s not going to work. We’re not going to wo
rk.”

  Zander shut the door and crossed to where she sat hunched over on the couch. Some stupid, primitive part of his brain admitted that he would have like to have been her first but he wanted far more than that from her. He just needed to figure out how to convince her.

  Kneeling on the floor in front of her, he lifted her chin, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He hated the anguish in her eyes.

  In a flash, he knew. Disgust filled him that he hadn’t figured it out sooner. Some effing psychologist he was. He didn’t deserve the tenure that had started this whole thing.

  Her shock, the shattered wine glass, the other man’s predatory air. The clues had been laid out like a Hardy Boys mystery novel, but he’d been so distracted with the idea of her sleeping with other men he couldn’t put two and two together.

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Who?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Weston. He assaulted you, didn’t he?”

  Shock lightened her eyes, and he knew without a doubt he was right. Fierce ire like he’d never known, not even when Julia had been killed, engulfed him. He’d had his hand around the bastard’s throat and hadn’t squeezed hard enough. Another more horrifying thought occurred to him.

  “Did they all…?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  Tessa pushed herself from the couch and walked away from him. “I slept with Weston. The first time.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “It was lousy. I was a stupid, little virgin expecting passion and magic. I even thought I was in love with him.”

  Tessa walked around the perimeter of the room, touching objects, but he doubted she saw anything. “In the morning, I knew I’d made a mistake. When I tried to leave, he hit me. I fought but he was stronger. He threw me down on the bed.”

  She paused so long he didn’t think she’d say anything else. He wanted to go to her, but he sensed she needed space. It killed him to stay away, but he forced himself.

  “When he was done, he called his roommate in. I don’t even remember his name. But he…”

  “You don’t have to tell me this.”

  She whirled, meeting his gaze, her eyes dark with pain. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”