Tempted

by Brandi Evans

  “Maybe I’ve been working you too hard. No more sex standing up in sheds for, oh, the next day or so. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Leave it to Lyndi to turn everything back to sex somehow, and speaking of sex in a shed. “Mind if I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” She nuzzled the side of his neck, not a single ounce of hesitation in her response—it was quick and fluid and filled with complete trust.

  Guilt and awe weighed down his chest. He would find a way to save her. He would…

  “Last night,” he said, “when you thought I’d ran because commitment freaked me out—”

  “Yes,” she said, responding to his question before he’d asked it. “That’s happened to me before.”

  “Will you tell me about it?”

  “It was a dark time in my life, Seth. A really dark time. Even now, it’s hard to think about it without feeling the bleak despair that had me in its web.”

  Seth turned his head and pressed his cheek against hers. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s…just hard for me to even think about that time. Even now.”

  Seth stayed quiet, giving her the time she needed, whether to find the words she needed to go on or to regain her composure and choose a new subject. The last thing he wanted was to push her to open a door to something so obviously painful, especially considering all the secrets he had from her.

  “Several years ago,” she whispered, “I was dating this guy named Daryl. He was a fellow artist. We met at one of the art fairs downtown. Ours wasn’t love at first sight or anything, but we did have a lot in common. At least where art was concerned.” She sighed, as if remembering the good times. “We’d been together for almost two years when I found out I was pregnant.

  “I was kind of excited, ya know? I thought he and I were in that place, that we were ready to take the next step forward in our relationship. He didn’t agree.” She laughed to mask her pain, but the hurt and betrayal drenching the sound betrayed her.

  Seth’s breath caught around his heart. He wanted to turn to her, hold her in his arms, but she held him with such fierce resolve, as if she didn’t want a visual audience for her pain. He settled for lacing their fingers together, letting her know he was here for her.

  “He didn’t want the baby?” Seth asked. How could any man not want a family with Lyndi?

  “Worse,” she said. “He wanted me to get an abortion, to which I vehemently said there was no way in hell I would hurt my baby. Then he followed up my angry statement with one of his own—it was him or the…the fetus. And I chose my baby. I chose Eva.” She pressed closer, as if drawing strength from him. “Her name was Eva Nicole. She was born a little over two years ago, on April twenty-second. She was such a beautiful baby.”

  A tear—maybe two—fell hot on his shoulder and he brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed the backs of her hand. “What happened to Eva?” he forced himself to ask, already dreading the answer.

  “She had a heart defect. The chambers of her heart didn’t form correctly during gestation. My doctor spotted the problem doing a routine ultrasound and told me to prepare for the worst. Still, I’d hoped, wished she’d be okay somehow.” Her voice hitched “But she died. Two weeks after she was born.”

  “God, Lyn. I don’t…I…”

  What the fuck could he say?

  “I was diagnosed with a severe case of postpartum depression, and…shit, Seth, I didn’t think I was strong enough to make it through the turmoil. For a while, I didn’t even want to.”

  She broke, no longer able to keep her anguish at bay.

  Hot tear after hot tear fell on his shoulder. “Come here,” he whispered, turning and opening his arms to pull her against his chest.

  For a long time, he held her and let her cry. Sweet, beautiful Lyndi, who’d already lost a child, and now, she’d been fated to die—a death he was supposed to arrange.

  A death that was his fault.

  Hasn’t she already been through enough? he asked The Divine, The Angels of Death or whomever might be listening in.

  His own tears burned hot behind his eyes. No way could he sit back and let the tragic events unfold, not when they were happening to the woman he loved. Especially not when the tragic events had somehow been arranged by demonic forces.

  “I’m sorry,” Lyndi said, pushing back and brushing tears from her face. “I didn’t mean to lay all that on you like that. You must think I’m—”

  “One of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” He kissed her nose, meaning every word. “You survived and rebuilt your life after a tragedy. That takes strength, and

  when I look at you, my love, that’s all I see. Strength and bravery. Well that and a kickin’ body.”

  She laughed, and the sight of those beautiful eyes filling with life again behind her tears—he knew he’d said the right thing.

  “Oh, Seth, I almost forgot. I made something for you last night. Come here.”

  She stood from the bed in all her naked beauty and tugged him with her and he followed willingly. They stopped in front of what he guessed was a covered easel.

  “I made this last night after I got home,” she said. “My nerves wouldn’t let me sleep so I started drawing, and this came out.”

  She pulled away the covering.

  Seth almost stopped breathing.

  The picture portrayed a creature of darkness skulking in the shadows near a beautiful woman as an angelic being, bright and glowing, hovered above. No, not an angelic being…

  Him.

  With wings.

  He touched the image. A representation for her. For him, this was the reality he’d been seeking for so long. A reality that would never come to fruition if he didn’t fulfill his obligations to the Angels of Death.

  If he didn’t let Lyndi die.

  Chapter Seven

  “I call it The Guardian.”

  Lyndi examined man versus drawing. She’d definitely nailed his likeness. The square jaw, the broad shoulders, the lines of that magnificent chest. It was stupid, but Seth looked right with wings. They suited him.

  Physically, he made the perfect angel—at least the way she pictured angels. None of those chubby-cheeked little cherubs for her. No, sir. Solid men with miles and miles of rippling muscles—and in Seth’s case, an impressive package to complement that physique—now that was what she thought of when she pictured angels.

  “I’m going to put it to canvas as soon as I’m sure the image is what I truly want it to be, and if it’s ready in time, I plan to make it a last-minute addition to my Light and Dark showing. It’ll be pushing it, but I think I can do it. For you.” She linked their arms. “This is how I think of you when I look back on how we met. About how you seemed to come out of nowhere, like you’d been there the whole time, watching me to make sure I stayed safe.”

  “I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered, his voice so soft she wondered if she’d interpreted the sounds correctly.

  “I know you weren’t.” She kissed his arm. Did he really think she thought he’d been there, invisible to the world, watching and waiting? Surely not. “You were walking, I know that. I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s not what I was talking about.” He turned away from her and, with ground-eating strides, stalked to the opposite side of the room. Not before she noticed some very dark emotions hardening his features. Pain? Guilt? Sorrow?

  Something even darker?

  “Seth?” She wanted to go to him—she also wanted to give him some space, like he’d given her when she’d told him about Daryl. “What happened? What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything, Lyn. Didn’t do anything but fall for a fucking bastard like me.”

  A bastard like him?

  That didn’t jive with the Seth Jones she’d made love to. On the contrary, Seth was the furthest person from “bastard” status she knew.

  She took two steps closer. Was he referring to so
me criminal act he’d committed in his guarded past, something that made him think of himself as a bastard? He’d said he was here on vacation but he kept mentioning work he had to do for his boss.

  “Talk to me,” she implored. “Tell me what’s got you so upset. If it’s not me then what? Whatever you’ve done, I’ll understand. I—”

  “You don’t want to know, trust me.” Eyes clenched shut, back against the wall, he slid to the floor. He looked defeated.

  She knelt beside him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

  The expression on his face was one of pure conflict.

  “Seth, please…” Her heart hammering out a wild rhythm, Lyndi cupped her hands around Seth’s cheeks. “Talk. To. Me.”

  His hands balled into fists. His knuckles turned white. And when he opened his eyes, she almost quit breathing.

  Pure self-loathing painted his eyes the most awful shade of brown. “You won’t believe me even if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  He shook his head, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes.

  “Try me, Seth,” she implored. “Talk to me. Please.”

  “I…I—”

  With no warning, he hooked a big palm around the back of her neck and crushed her into a kiss that almost sucked the life out of her. His mouth moved hard against hers. It was as if he were funneling every ounce of passion he possessed into the act, and she held on for all she was worth. She didn’t know what secrets fueled his actions and she didn’t care. She wanted him to trust her enough, to love her enough.

  Seth pulled back, tears glistening on the side of his handsome face, voice gravelly when he spoke. “I swear to you I’m gonna make this right. I won’t let you die, Lyn. I can’t. I won’t.”

  Die?

  Before the shock of his words had time to set in, he continued. “Promise me you’ll stay in your apartment where it’s safe.”

  “Seth, what—”

  “Promise you won’t leave and that you especially won’t go near a lighthouse.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me! No matter what. Don’t. Leave. Your. Studio.” His voice was firm, his face hard.

  She nodded. She didn’t know what else to do. She knew when to stop arguing and this was it.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her once more then leapt to his feet.

  He was halfway to the stairs before she’d so much as moved. “Seth!” she shouted after him, pushing herself onto shaking legs. She needed to stop him and make him explain.

  I won’t let you die, Lyn…

  None of this made sense. Was he some kind of dirty cop who’d gotten mixed up with the mob or something? That hardly seemed likely. He was a cop, yes—or had that been a lie?

  Or maybe he was deep undercover and his involvement with her had somehow put her in danger? Both of them in danger? He said he hadn’t been in the park for her and their first night he’d said something about needing to finish some work, even though he was supposedly on vacation.

  Had he been at that park to investigate the creep, like a stakeout or something? To watch him and hope he led Seth to the “bigger fish”. Then she’d showed up and Seth had been forced to reveal himself, putting his life in danger.

  Oh, God, what had she done?

  “Seth, wait!” Since his clothes still lay scattered on the floor, she grabbed them and the robe she always kept on a hook by the stairwell and sprinted after him.

  His voice echoed from the bottom of the stairwell. “I love you, Lyndi.”

  The door slammed shut.

  “I love you too!” She ran faster, fumbling with the tie of her robe as her feet pounded each step in quick succession. Shit, shit, shit, these damn stairs had never seemed so long.

  I love you, Lyndi.

  When she reached the exit, she ripped the door open and—

  “Daryl?”

  What the fuck?

  Before she let her mind unravel the sudden appearance of her shit-for-brains ex, she bulldozed her way past Daryl and into the tiny parking area behind the building. Seth was nowhere to be seen. Only her little car and what had to be Daryl’s phallic-attempt-at-male-compensation red convertible sat in the parking lot.

  Maybe Seth had walked here? The man did like to walk. In the buff? No way. Still… She had to check.

  She ran to the corner of the building. Nothing. As she was running back to the other side, Daryl stepped in front of her. Blond hair, blue eyes and a dick just not big enough to justify his ego, Daryl Williams was the last person she wanted to see right now. Or ever.

  “Hey, babe,” he drawled. “Don’t I at least get a friendly hello?”

  Her heart pounded like a crazed gorilla’s, but she didn’t know if her need to find Seth or her desire to castrate Daryl was the true culprit. “The man that just ran out the door,” she began, maybe Daryl could be of use after all, “which way did he go?”

  “It’s nice to see you too, Lynds.”

  “The man, Daryl! Which way did he go!” She wished she could strangle the bastard right here. Trying to converse with Daryl was like talking to a brick wall—only the brick wall was smarter and less annoying.

  If she killed him, she’d go to prison and then she’d never be able to find Seth.

  What if she just maimed him?

  “There was no man,” Daryl said.

  “What? He must have come outside at the same time you walked to the door. I opened the damn thing before you even knocked!”

  “I didn’t see a man. There was a door and then there was you coming through it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, what do you say we try this again?” He held his arms out toward her. “Hello, Lyndi. It’s nice to see you again.”

  She closed her eyes. He wouldn’t help her. How stupid of her to even consider the notion.

  She slapped away his outstretched arms. “Did you get a fucking brainectomy since I saw you last? What on Earth would ever make you think I’d ever fucking touch you again? You’re a piece of dog shit that, despite evolutionary hurdles, somehow managed to learn to walk and talk!”

  “So a hello kiss is out of the question too, huh?”

  Red flashed behind her eyes. Murder equals life in prison, she repeated over and over in her head.

  She squeezed her fingers tightly around the clothes she still held and pretended the cloth was Daryl’s fucking neck. How dare he show up after all this time and act like he hadn’t done far worse than break her heart? And today of all days!

  “Kiss?” She let her anger turn her words into verbal bullets. “You want a kiss? Okay. How about you kiss my mother-fucking ass!”

  Daryl laughed. “My, my. I hope you don’t kiss our baby with that mouth.”

  She sucked in a ragged breath. He didn’t just fucking go there without even knowing…

  “Fuck you, Daryl! Just fuck. You.”

  “If that was an invitation, I accept.” He looked her up and down, lust in his eyes.

  She suddenly felt underdressed with only a thin layer of satin between them. She clutched Seth’s clothes over her chest.

  Maybe if she asked the asshole flat-out what he wanted, he’d fucking leave her alone. And never come the fuck back.

  She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “What do you want, Daryl?”

  “I missed you, baby. Is that wrong?”

  Lyndi resisted the temptation to punch him. “You didn’t answer my question. What. Do. You. Want? And don’t call me baby again unless you want your testicles ripped out through your nose.”

  He laughed. “Okay. What I want is you. I thought I’d made that obvious when I said I missed you.”

  “Unbelievable! You lost the right to want me when you walked out on me and our baby. And now, I’m with someone else. So go jump off a lighthouse or something. There’s a nice one in Redemption Harbor Bay. Really tall. Your brains would make a lovely contrast against the sea-washed rocks below.”

  He smiled at her, cocked his head to the side, looking totally unfaz
ed. “Okay, so I can see we have a little ways to go before we’re jumping into the sack again. Can I at least see our baby? I don’t even know if it’s a he or a she.”

  Pain chiseled at the wall she’d constructed to hold all the misery and blackness that had invaded her after Eva’s death. Reliving the memories had been hard enough when Seth’s protective arms were wrapped around her. She sure as hell didn’t want to go through that anguish again, not with Daryl for comfort. Daryl who thought “comfort” came in the form of a blowjob or a good shagging.

  He had a right to know, though, even if he’d walked out.

  She stood straight, shoulders back. “Our daughter died,” she said with as little emotion as possible. “Two weeks after she was born. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to—”

  “Died. Really? Shit.”

  Breathe, Lynds. Don’t let him see you cry.

  “Yes, Daryl. She had a heart defect.”

  He nodded. “Guess you didn’t want the kid as much as you claimed. What did you do, Lynds? Will the child to death with your anger for me? Or maybe you considered aborting it after I left. The kid knew how much its own mother didn’t want it and it broke its heart so it never formed right. Ya know, that’s pretty cold.”

  “How dare you! I wanted Eva more than you’d ever know. I was devastated when I lost her. I loved her. Don’t you dare imply I didn’t.”

  Her fierce outburst didn’t stop his hurtful vomit. “Or maybe you went on a fuck-a-thon to ease your loneliness. Too many dicks for your womb to handle…baby?”

  “You bastard.”

  Remorse and self-accusation closed in on her heart like the approaching night, steady and unstoppable, pulling her back toward the bottomless void she’d fallen into after Eva died.

  A darkness that had nearly claimed her life once.

  * * * * *

  Fists pumping, Seth weaved through the tombstones at one of Redemption Harbor’s many cemeteries, waiting for Kaia. Waiting didn’t usually bother Seth, but when Lyndi’s life hung in the balance, all bets were off.