Nightfall

by Anne Stuart

  He slid his hand between her legs, and she was damp, weeping for him. She arched back again, and he covered her mouth with his, silencing her, as he slid his long fingers deep inside her, using his thumb, driving her toward an oblivion she desperately needed.

  He didn’t give her a chance to fight him. She came almost immediately, convulsing in his arms with a wild cry, burying her face against his shoulder as her body shimmered with fierce response.

  He wanted to be noble enough to leave it at that. To soothe her down, to calm and love her, and then to walk away. But he couldn’t do it. He needed her, needed her far more than life itself, and when he eased her onto her back she went willingly, pulling him with her, legs spread to cradle him, to take him deep inside, to drain and renew him, to make him alive again, when he’d wanted so much to die.

  There was such sweetness in it, when he hadn’t known it existed. They were together in the darkness, a slow, tender joining that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was love, not sex, and that knowledge shattered him more than his powerful climax.

  She must have heard the voices first. Her body was soft, warm, pliant, covered with a sheen of sweat, and then suddenly it was stiff with anxiety. For a moment he thought it was the inevitable second thoughts, until he heard the voices. Coming closer.

  He didn’t recognize them. A man and a woman, though the man was low-voiced and scarcely able to get a word in edgewise as the woman declaimed in the loud voice of someone just faintly drunk.

  “We’ll take Colin’s bedroom,” her voice announced. “I’m sure Mabry won’t object, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in that Victorian mausoleum. I don’t know what got into Mabry to choose such a ghastly decorating scheme. Her interior designer must have been crazy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” the voice continued, after a mumbled protest. “Colin’s in Africa, and God only knows when someone will get word to him that his father has gone to his just reward. In the meantime I know that Mabry wouldn’t think of having us go to a hotel. It’s a good thing I have a key. Besides, Cassie will want her mother around for comfort in her time of mourning.”

  Richard raised his head, looking down at Cassie’s stricken face. “Your mother?” he inquired in a whisper that he couldn’t keep free of amusement.

  She was beyond noticing, lying beneath him, his body still tight within hers. “My mother,” she said in a strangled whisper.

  “Did you lock the door?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did I. And I don’t think I have time to get up and do so now.” He reached down and flicked the sheet over them, still keeping her pinned to the mattress, her face rosy from love and embarrassment.

  The blasted woman was still talking when she opened the door. There was a dead silence, but Richard wasn’t interested in taking a glance at his unwanted visitors. He was far more concerned with the mute, stricken expression on Cassie’s face.

  The silence, unfortunately, didn’t last long. “Good God!” the woman shrieked. “Cassidy Roarke, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He rolled off her then, though he didn’t want to, keeping the sheet around her. He looked up at the harridan standing there, in her designer suit and real pearls, her flushed face and glittering eyes, and the pale man behind her.

  “What do you think she’s doing?” he inquired mildly enough, putting his arms around Cassie’s head, letting her turn her face into his shoulder.

  “I hardly think that is an appropriate activity at a time like this. Her father has just died.” She managed a convincing sniffle. “And who the hell are you?” the woman demanded, taking a slightly staggering step into the bedroom.

  Faced with a mother like her and a father like Sean, it was no wonder Cassie had developed a habit of running away when things got rough. It was even more surprising she’d held still long enough for him to penetrate her defenses.

  He rolled onto his back, staring up at her with a deliberate smirk. “The man who just made love to your daughter,” he said blandly.

  Cass made a soft little sound of distress, and then was quiet. He suspected that if she could, she would have dived beneath the covers.

  “And who may that be?” she demanded.

  To his amazement Cassie stirred, emerging from her haven. “Go away, Alice,” she said. “This is hardly the time for introductions, and if you think Mabry wants you here, you’re crazy. There are any number of decent hotels in the area. Go away. “

  Alice turned with majestic rage, only slightly marred by the wobble in her gait, and stalked toward the door. She paused, leveling an accusing gaze at her daughter. “I must say I would have thought better of you, Cassie. I thought you cared about your father. Obviously I’m the only one who ever really loved and understood him. It was no wonder our relationship was doomed. We were too young, too much alike.”

  “You were twenty-three when you got married, Alice, and he’d already been through one wife. You were old enough to know better,” she said wearily.

  “I must say,” Alice was weaving faintly, as the man behind her tugged on her arm, “that I am sorely disappointed in you.” She slapped at the restraining hand. “Leave me alone, Robert. Can’t you see I’m having a discussion with my daughter?”

  “Not the time or place, Alice,” the man muttered, obviously much embarrassed.

  “Yes, Alice,” Richard said in a deceptively mild voice. “Go away, or I’ll climb out of this bed and throw you out the window.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me.” Alice yanked her arm free, stormed back into the room and sat her ample butt down on the chair.

  “Er, Alice,” the man referred to as Robert said nervously. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the man your daughter’s in bed with is Richard Tiernan. You know, with the murder trial and all? I doubt he’d think twice about getting rid of an interfering old woman.” There was just a trace of satisfied malice in the man’s voice, as Alice surged to her feet in horror.

  She sputtered, but nothing intelligible came out. By the time she began making sense, Robert had led her all the way down the hall, and her shrieks of outrage echoed through the apartment until the front door slammed.

  Richard looked down at Cassie, wondering what he’d see. Her eyes were closed, her face pale, with two bright spots of color on her cheeks.

  “You’ve got a hell of a mother,” he observed calmly enough.

  Her eyes shot open. “Tell me about it,” she said in a strangled voice. “Between her and Sean, it’s a wonder I survived.”

  He wasn’t sure what he expected. That she’d dissolve in tears once more. That she’d run screaming from his bed. Instead she simply lay there, looking up at him, steadily, expectantly.

  He cupped her face. “Are you all right?” It was the best he could offer. He couldn’t say the words—there was too much at stake, and they were both too vulnerable.

  She smiled, a sweet, sad smile, and her hands covered his. He kissed her then, before she could answer, and she kissed him back. “Go to sleep,” he whispered against her mouth.

  He half expected her to argue. But she seemed worn out by emotion. She closed her eyes obediently, and in moments she was sound asleep, his body still covering hers, his hands still caught in hers.

  CASSIE COULD HEAR the shower running. She didn’t move, didn’t want to. The bed was warm, soft, comforting, and as long as she didn’t leave it, reality wouldn’t intrude.

  She’d made up her mind. Sometime, she wasn’t sure when, the last doubt had fallen. Maybe it was when he’d held out his arms to her in the hospital waiting room. Maybe it was when he’d threatened to throw her mother out the window. Maybe she’d always known it, and just been trying to deny it.

  It no longer mattered what he had done. Sh
e’d lost the ability to judge between right and wrong. All that mattered was that she loved him, needed to be with him. If there was something evil and sinful about that, so be it. She was willing to pay the price.

  She knew she would be paying, for the rest of her life. She didn’t care. She would take what little time fate had to offer them. She wouldn’t fight it, or him, anymore.

  She must have dozed off for a while. When she awoke, he was sitting on the bed, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, his face remote, wary.

  “Do you think your mother will be back?”

  She considered it, sliding back against the pillows. “Not likely. She’s a devout coward, and if I know Robert, he’ll encourage her to think you’ll kill her. Heaven only knows, she brings out murderous impulses in the gentlest of people.”

  “And I hardly qualify as that, do I?”

  Testing again. She wasn’t going to let him do it to her anymore. “Has there been any word from Mabry?” She changed the subject.

  “I talked with her about fifteen minutes ago, while you were sleeping. She’s busy with paperwork, and then she’ll be back. She wanted to know how you were doing.”

  “I shouldn’t have left her,” Cassie said guiltily. “I should have gone to find her . . .”

  “You weren’t in any shape. For God’s sake, can’t you think of yourself for once, instead of everyone else? Mabry’s a grown woman, she can handle things on her own.”

  “I should have been there . . .” she said stubbornly.

  “No. You should have been with me.”

  There was no way she could argue with him, when it was simply the truth. “Sean would have hated dying like that,” she said. “Drifting away in a hospital bed. He would have wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.”

  “Do not go gentle into that good night?” Richard said softly.

  “Exactly.”

  “We don’t always get what we want, and life isn’t particularly fair.”

  She managed the faintest of smiles. “There’s a news flash,” She sat up. “I should get back to the hospital and bring Mabry home. She needs some rest. If the damned paperwork can’t wait, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  She thought of the wary, frightened looks the hospital personnel had given him. She thought of her need to burrow deep and hide in her sorrow. To isolate, to get through tough things alone. “Yes,” she said.

  She was unprepared for his reaction. He’d been guarding himself, shielding himself, waiting for her rejection. For her to run. “Yes?” he echoed.

  “I need you.”

  They were words that she’d heard, but never spoken to another living being. She spoke them to Richard.

  The effect was astonishing. For the first time she saw real vulnerability on his dark, shuttered face. And then he put his arms around her, holding her tight against him, not saying a word. She could feel the tension, the tightly leashed power in his muscles, she could feel a thousand things rushing through him, things without a name. And then, before she could say another word, he released her, left the bed, and moved toward the door. “Take your time,” he muttered, not turning back. “I’ll have some food waiting.”

  The shower went part way toward making her feel human, and she had little doubt food would take her the rest of the way. The kitchen was deserted when she walked in, but the table was set with steaming soup, a cold can of diet Coke, and croissants. She had no appetite, but the man definitely had his good points.

  “Hullo, darling,” Mabry said from the doorway as Cass sat down to wait for him.

  “Oh, Mabry,” she said brokenly, rising.

  “No tears, darling. Sean would hate it,” Mabry said, shaking her flaxen hair. She suddenly looked decades older, but her eyes were clear and dry. “We can make a suitable fuss at the wake, of course, but for now he’d prefer something a little more elegant.”

  “I’m afraid I’ve given up on pleasing him,” Cass said. “I never could be the daughter he wanted.”

  “You were exactly the daughter he wanted,” Mabry said fiercely, giving her a shake. “And he knew it, even if he never told you so.” She moved away from the doorway to lean with her hands on the windowsill, looking out into the dark afternoon.

  “Have you talked with Francesca yet? How’s she doing? And has anyone been able to get in touch with Colin?”

  “Lord knows where your half brother is. I’ve set your mother and stepfather to tracking him down. It’ll keep her occupied.” She sighed, pushing her pale blond hair away from her face. “Francesca knows, but she doesn’t seem to want to deal with it. Amberson suggested he take her up to their summer place in Vermont, and I said that was probably wise.”

  Again that odd feeling of uneasiness. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? Shouldn’t the family be together . . . ?”

  “I trust the general. He’s raised one daughter, poor man, and I think he sees Francesca as a substitute. He’ll take good care of her, and we won’t have to worry about how she’s handling things.”

  “I’d like to talk to her.”

  “Honestly, Cass, I don’t know what you’re fussing about. I don’t know their phone number—he gave it to me but I was too addled to write it down. We’ll just have to wait until he calls in.”

  Cassie picked up a croissant, slowly, deliberately, trying to stuff her unreasoning feeling of panic. “She’s only thirteen, Mabry. She may act like she’s older, but she’s really just a child.”

  “All the better that she be with the general and his wife. I’ve never had children, and neither have you. You don’t want her around Richard, do you?”

  The question was shocking, point-blank, and Cassie’s response was instinctive. And unexpected. “I’d trust him with Francesca.”

  Mabry managed a crooked smile. “Love has made you blind, Cass. I never thought to see the day. Or is it lust?”

  “Mabry . . .”

  “Forgive me,” she said, contrite. “Alice was kind enough to tell me where she found you when she barged in here. I’m a bit over the edge, but I shouldn’t have said that. Obviously you’ve decided that Richard never killed anyone. I’m glad.”

  “I didn’t say that. I can only go by my instincts. And my instincts tell me that he wouldn’t hurt an innocent child.”

  “But do you have any right to endanger another human being on the sole basis of your instincts?” Mabry asked.

  “You know I can’t make that decision.”

  “Then let’s leave it alone,” Mabry said wearily. “Leave Francesca where she is.”

  “Leave who where she is?” Richard appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Cassie felt the familiar, treacherous warmth filling her, despite his distant expression, his failure to come close to her.

  “Cass’s sister,” Mabry said briskly, getting up and moving past him. She paused, looking at him, and there was both dignity and warning in her cool gaze. “You got what you wanted, Richard. She loves you. She’s obsessed by you, willing to believe and do everything you want her to. Sean would be proud of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cass demanded.

  “I would have thought you’d caught on by now. You were Sean’s virgin sacrifice. Richard saw your picture on Sean’s desk and said you were part of the deal. He’d cooperate with the book, give Sean everything he wanted, but in return Sean had to deliver up his daughter.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cass snapped. “Sean couldn’t have done any such thing. I wasn’t his to deliver.”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? You were in Richard’s bed. Sean said he’d get you up here, and the rest was up to Richard. As far as Sean was concerned, you needed a little change, a little excitement in your life. Don’t be naive, Cass. You knew something was going on.”

  C
ass had gone numb, a small blessing. “Like fucking a murderer? That was supposed to broaden my horizons?”

  Mabry shrugged. “You know Sean. But you don’t have to go along with it anymore. The book is finished, and it’s a masterpiece. Sean is dead, and he doesn’t need you or anyone to dance to his tune any longer.” She moved past Richard, cool and graceful. “I thought it was about time you knew the whole truth.” And then she was gone, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

  Cassie stared down at her meal. Her soup was cold, her diet Coke was warm, the croissant ripped into a thousand tiny pieces. “The truth,” she said in a quiet voice. “Just how much more truth is there?” She raised her head to meet his oblique gaze. “You didn’t kill your children or Sally Norton. You did murder your wife. You seduced me for the sole purpose of taking over the care of your children. You said you fell in love with me. You made a bargain with my father. I’m surprised you didn’t make a bet as well. How long would it take to get beneath my skirts. How long it would take before I’d go down on you. How long . . .”

  “Cassie.” His voice was cool, emotionless, as hers was overwrought.

  “I should be used to it,” Cass continued in a musing voice. “I shouldn’t feel so damned sorry for myself. My father has never been anything other than what he’s appeared to be. And you certainly never tried to convince me you were a white knight, falsely accused of monstrous crimes. If anything, you’ve encouraged me to believe the worst of you. Why, Richard? Why won’t you defend yourself? Why won’t you tell me I’m wrong, that I wasn’t just the means to an end, a mother for your children and an easy lay? That my father wasn’t ready to barter my heart, my body, and even my life for the sake of his own ego and some goddamn book?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I tell you. You’re going to have to decide what you want to believe.”

  “And if I believe that you’re a manipulative, uncaring bastard, what would you say to that?”

  “That you’re probably right.”

  “That you have no qualms about killing in order to further your plans. And that’s to see your children taken care of, isn’t it? A noble enough motive. Is that why you killed your wife? You didn’t think she was a good enough mother?”