by Lee Savino
“I know nothing will ever replace your family, or even come close. But I hope it will be some comfort to you that your parents left you a sizeable trust fund,” the lawyer continued. He turned his computer screen around and showed it to us. Six-hundred thousand dollars.
Isabelle’s eyes widened at the amount. It was a lot. An amount to make anyone’s eyes widen. But it was in line with what the mafia thugs had told her.
“Now, your parents stipulated that the trust fund would be available to you when you got married.” The lawyer leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I remember your father and I had a long conversation about it, and he felt it was important to give you the money when you’d settled down and were planning children.” Now he broke into a smile. “And I see you’ve found yourself a lovely husband. I’m sure it won’t be long before you hear the pitter patter of little feet.”
Isabelle’s face turned beet red, and she couldn’t meet my gaze.
To my embarrassment, I felt myself hardening at the thought of making her pregnant. I swallowed hard, and forced myself to think unsexy thoughts until the feeling passed.
“In addition to that,” the lawyer continued, “you have the house, of course, along with everything inside it.”
Isabel gasped. “The house is mine?”
He frowned. “Of course, my dear. Who else would have the right to it?”
“I-I guess I never thought about it,” she stuttered.
I squeezed her hand, touched yet again by how unconcerned she was with money. All this time, after everything she’d suffered, it had never even crossed her mind that she might have finances to support herself.
“It sounds ignorant, I know. It’s just…” She sighed. “It’s just been a tough few years.”
The lawyer nodded gravely. “I had that impression, my dear. We managed to trace you to your foster parents, but after that, the trail went cold, and I just prayed that nothing bad had happened to you. You can’t imagine my relief at seeing you here today.”
I couldn’t help warming to the guy. I’d grown up believing lawyers were untrustworthy greaseballs, but I saw his integrity, and the warmth in his eyes. If he was anything like Isabelle’s father, then she was lucky to have been raised by such a man. I vowed once more that taking care of her would be my lifelong mission.
“I’m sorry to say that the house was recently raided, just two days ago,” he continued. “It was very odd. It stood empty all this time, with no one disturbing it, then we had a break-in. It doesn’t appear that anything significant was stolen but all the drawers seem to have been rifled through, and the safe in the study appears to have been hacked out with some industrial machinery.”
A bolt of alarm went through me, which was reflected in Isabelle’s panicked glance.
The Albanians. It couldn’t have been anyone else.
“But don’t worry, my dear,” the lawyer said, misunderstanding Isabelle’s alarm. “Nothing else was damaged, and we’ve secured the doors and windows more strongly now.
“So, I’m very glad to tell you that the house is yours, whenever you wish to take up residence there—or sell it. If you like, we can arrange to have the metal sheeting removed from the front door and a new lock installed?”
“Yes, please, I’d appreciate that,” Isabelle said. No doubt she’d decided that the thugs weren’t going to come back. They’d either gotten what they were looking for, or realized there was nothing to find. Still, the thought that they had been here in this beautiful, peaceful town and raided Isabel’s family home sickened me.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back in town,” Isabelle said. “So I’d like to leave that option open.”
“Of course, my dear.”
At the news, another lurch of dismay went through me. Does that mean she’s planning to move back to the town? Now that we’re married and the mafia are off her back?
Of course that was her plan. Our marriage was completely fake—at least, to her.
“Now, all I need from you are your bank details, and we can transfer the trust fund to you.”
Isabel frowned. “I think I need to get a new account,” she said.
“You should get yourself a financial adviser, too. Help you out with investments, that sort of thing. We can also assist with that.”
“Thank you,” Isabel said once again.
There were a few more items of admin to clear up, then, with some final warm wishes, the lawyer said goodbye to us, and we walked out into the quiet street again.
The afternoon light was soft and drowsy, and the sun cast long shadows along the sidewalk. I’d never been one for towns, but if you were going to live in one, I figured you wouldn’t find a better place than this.
“What you want to do now?” I asked Isabelle.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, looking shell-shocked.
“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” I put my arm around her shoulder, and when she snuggled in against me, my body reacted with a rush of endorphins. I wondered if she felt the same. I sure hoped she did.
“Let’s stay here for the night,” I said. “Maybe there’s a B&B somewhere?”
She nodded, still looking overwhelmed. “That sounds good… there used to be a place at the end of the street.”
I fixed my hat back on my head. “Okay. Let’s go check in, and then you can show me the town.”
Chapter 12
Isabelle
The next morning, I woke up to Joel spooning me. His big hand caressed my breasts, then slid between my legs. In a minute, I was wet, and in another few seconds, he was pushing himself inside me. Last night, he’d made love to me for hours. It had been different than before. Tender, not rough. He’d made me come three times with his mouth, telling me how beautiful I was, how sweet I tasted. He’d even stopped me from sucking his cock.
“Tonight is all about you,” he’d murmured. And I liked this gentle side of him as well. How caring and sensitive those big rough hands could be.
But now he growled, “Mine,” in my ear as his huge cock filled me up. “All mine.” He turned me onto my front, and fucked me hard enough to take my breath away.
I loved how rough and possessive he was, I thought as my pussy spasmed around him, and I muffled my cries with the pillow. The way he claimed me, made me his whenever he wanted.
When we’d both showered, he announced he was taking me to breakfast.
He was being kind of mysterious about it, but when he pulled up in front of the homely old diner that my dad used to take me to, I let out a squeal of delight.
“You remembered.”
He rolled his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I thought you’d think me chattering about all these old places was dumb.”
His expression turned serious. “Isabelle, listen to me: nothing you say is dumb. You’re the smartest person I know, period. And I’ve loved experiencing your old life with you. It made me feel closer to you, if you want to know.”
Suddenly he couldn’t meet my eyes, and I stared at his handsome features, my heart pitter-pattering. That was the kind of thing someone said when they cared about you. Like, I knew he cared about my well-being and all. The beautiful, scary ring on my finger was proof of that. But cared in a romantic way?
I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that.
Going into the diner was like walking into a time-warp. Everything was the same—from the red vinyl seats, to the battered Formica tables, to the cheesy old movie star photos on the walls. The smell of coffee brewing and good, greasy food filled my nostrils.
When we’d slid into a booth, Joel leafed through the menu with fierce concentration. At last, he snapped it closed. “I’ll have the egg-white and spinach omelet.”
I gaped. “You’re kidding? That was the only dish I was allowed to order here.”
He shrugged. “Figures. I just looked for the most unappetizing thing on the menu.”
I swatted him. “Dork.”
He broke in
to a grin. “And you, my lady, are ordering sausages, eggs-over-easy, and a giant stack of blueberry pancakes drenched in maple syrup.”
I shook my head. “It is kind of scary how well you know me.”
When the server came, Joel ordered the same for both of us, along with coffees and strawberry milkshakes. My bare legs stuck to the cracked vinyl, and I remembered how I used to sit, swinging my legs, while my dad read out the headlines from the local paper. They were all trivial stories about missing cats and local government appointments, but he recited them with great seriousness to make us laugh. Or to distract me from my boring food.
“You probably think my parents were giant control freaks,” I blurted out. “But they really cared for me, you know.”
Joel frowned, and his deep amber eyes looked at me searchingly. “I know they did, Isabelle. I never doubted that for a second. They wanted the best for you. I figured you becoming a ballet star was worth all the egg-white omelets in the world.”
The sf my eyes prickled and I blinked fast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all defensive. It’s just—”
He reached across the table, enveloping my hand in his. “You’ve got a lot of conflicting emotions right now. I get it, believe me.”
I nodded. I still wasn’t sure why I deserved Joel Hudson. I just knew that when he was around, the barbed wire around my heart melted away.
After breakfast, we went to the bank and opened an account for me—a brand-new one that the thugs didn’t know about—and I passed on the details to the lawyer.
“It’s over,” Joel told me, as we walked along Main Street. “Your trust fund is protected, and the mafia can’t come after you anymore. You can relax.”
“I know,” I said, and I wanted so much to believe him. I felt so many things—relief mixed with trepidation.
As we passed Shelbrook’s one and only fashion boutique, a dress in the window caught my eye.
“Try it on,” Joel said, slipping an arm around my waist.
I startled at his attentiveness. “Oh, no, it’s okay.”
“Try it.” There was a harder edge to his voice, and I gave an involuntary shiver.
It was red cotton polka dot, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and a short flouncy skirt. It was a real cowgirl dress, and it looked great with my tan boots.
Joel scanned me through the gap in the changing room curtain.
“What do you think, cowboy?” I did a little turn. With my back to him, I lifted the skirt a little, flashing my bare thighs and giving him a hint of my ass.
Strong hands closed around my waist before I could turn.
“It’s perfect,” Joel growled in my ear, “except for one thing.” His own fingers tossed up my skirt, and his palm came down on my right butt cheek, hard. “Remember who you belong to, wild girl. You flash no one but me.”
I bit my lip, meeting his amber eyes in the mirror. Joel backed away, but I got the impression that if the clerk wasn’t in the store, he would have bent me over and taken me in the dressing room—after blistering my rear. My knees knocked together as my core clenched.
“It’s perfect,” Joel announced more loudly, as if he hadn’t chastised me for being a tease. “Keep it on,” he instructed, and tore off the tag and went to pay for it.
As we drove back to Ashcroft, Joel was in high spirits. He was convinced we’d gotten the thugs off our backs for good, and I was doing my best to share his optimism. He kept saying how great it was that I had financial security and had gotten my childhood home back. I knew he was right, but it all felt unreal. I’d been scared for so long, my body didn’t know how to relax, and my heart didn’t know how to hope. The main thing was making sure that Joel and I were safe, I told myself, and I let myself get caught up in his good mood, taking turns picking songs again, singing along and goofing off.
Halfway back to Ashcroft, we stopped at a gas station to fill up. I jumped out of the truck to grab some chips and sodas, and I paid for the gas, too. The lawyers had advanced me a little money, and it felt so good to be able to pay my way again.
When I got back to the truck, Joel was busy typing something on his phone. As I climbed up onto the running board, a cold look crossed his face.
Joel
I watched as Isabelle scampered across the gas station’s forecourt, her pretty red skirt fluttering around her thighs. She looked so dang hot in that dress, I’d had a boner ever since she’d slipped it on. I couldn’t wait to get her home and introduce her to another level of discipline—one I’d been keeping from her until I was sure she was ready for it.
A phone vibrated—it was hers; she’d left it on the dash. I wasn’t the kind of guy who snooped on other people’s stuff, especially not my wife’s phone. But, hell, I was still worried about her.
I picked it up and looked at the screen.
And I was glad I did.
It was from an unknown number. I tapped on the message, and it opened. Luckily, she hadn’t password protected it.
And when I read the words, a red mist passed in front of my eyes:
So your back in town, Tinkerbel. We’ll be seeing each other very soon.
It was them. Of course it was.
Those fucking assholes. I’d make them pay for this, if it was the last thing I did. I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to grind the phone to dust.
I looked for Isabelle inside the store. She was standing in line to pay.
I hit the camera button, snapped a selfie, and thumbed out a message:
This is Joel, her husband. Don’t contact her again, or I’m calling the police.
I hit send.
The door of the store swung open and a blur of red exited.
I deleted their message, and mine.
She appeared at the passenger window.
I hit the button to block their number.
She opened the door.
I stuffed her phone back on the dash.
She slid into her seat with a whisper of her sweet, citrusy scent.
My heartbeat slowed.
She looked around as if confused, then snatched her phone up. She scanned the screen, and replaced it, satisfied.
“Everything okay?” I asked innocently.
“Yeah.” She shrugged and gave me one of her beautiful smiles, the ones that lit me up like a torch.
A wave of calm went through me as we rejoined the highway. They weren’t after her. They just wanted her money. And now they knew she had a husband taking care of her, they’d lose interest.
I was her husband now; it was up to me to protect her. I had a couple of buddies in the Mounties. I hadn’t spoken to them before, because I was worried it would make things worse, but they were good guys. I could trust them to be discreet. I’d file a restraining order, and that would be the end of it. Whatever it took to keep her safe.
Chapter 13
Isabelle
Joel seemed awful pleased with himself.
“You just got some good news or something?” I asked, suspicious about how furtive he’d been when I got back into the truck.
He shrugged. “We got the mafia off your back, and we’re going home. I’d say that’s good news.” He opened all the windows, and let out a wild whoop.
I couldn’t help grinning at his antics.
And finally it hit me: my parents’ trust fund was safe. It wasn’t going to buy drugs or guns, or get wired back to Albania or something. It was going right where my parents had wanted it to be: to secure my future.
I still had no idea what that future held. But I had a hot-as-hell husband. A fake husband. Maybe it was just pity, but Joel was helping me. One day, he’d move on to someone better than me, someone who wasn’t broken.
But until then, I would enjoy his company.
This time, arriving at the ranch didn’t feel weird; it felt like coming home. The dogs were already waiting for us in the yard, barking crazily, and as soon as I climbed down from the truck, they jumped all over me like I was a long-lost friend.
> “Think they like you more than me,” Joel said with a laugh as he hauled our bags out of the truck. I squatted down and greeted each of them as they did their best to give me doggy kisses. Randy, Mona, Freddie and Colin: four assorted runts that Joel had rescued at one time or another. I was kind of number five, I reflected, but hopefully the first human one.
I followed Joel into the house. Inside, it was cool and airy. Our house. I didn’t know where the thought came from, but it warmed me all the way through. Could this be my life from now on? No darkness hanging over my head? No fear or danger? Nothing waiting in the wings to destroy me?
Joel went to drop our bags off in his room, and my phone vibrated. I took it out of my purse and glanced at it distractedly.
I frowned. It was from my roommate, Kelly. I swiped to open it… and my blood turned to ice:
You owe me something tinkerbel.
Bile rose up in my throat, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. Anton. He’d gotten hold of Kelly’s phone somehow.
I knew it. Joel had convinced me that they’d lose interest in me when they discovered the money was gone. But he didn’t know them like I did. They were nothing if not vindictive and vicious. My head swam with panicked thoughts.
Joel came into the room, whistling.
At the sight of me, he stopped short, dismay distorting his handsome features.
“What is it, Isabelle?”
I was shaking all over, adrenaline pumping through my veins. The last thing I wanted to do was worry him. Again. Bring more bullshit into his life. I could not tell him about this.
I swallowed hard. “Nothing. Why?”
He came over to me and took my face in his hands. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”
He looked at me steadily, and gradually my legs quit shaking so much.
His hands made me feel safe.
He was stronger than a bunch of mafia thugs.
But I had to fix this by myself.