Beautiful Deception

by Morgan James

  I stood and used one foot to push the chair backward, all the while kissing my way up her body. I claimed her mouth again, and her arms twined around my shoulders, holding me close. Reaching between us, I flicked the button on my pants and used one hand to work them down over my hips. My cock jumped to attention, brushing the inside of her thigh as it sprang from its confines. Jules’s breathing changed to the rapid tempo spurred by anticipation like it did every time just before I slid deep inside her.

  I pressed the rounded head to her entrance, then froze. Against my lips, Jules stopped breathing, and her nails cut into my shoulders. Part of me wanted to prolong it, to break down every single reaction frame by frame so I could fully enjoy the way I turned her on. Vindication flashed in my heart and mind as her breathing changed, coming faster and harder, spurred by anticipation and excitement. God, I loved how responsive she was. I held on to that feeling, reveling in it for a fraction of a second before thrusting deep.

  Her soft mewl of pleasure rolled over my tongue, and I swallowed the heady sound. Unable to hold back, I plunged into her over and over, hard and relentless, and a stifled scream ripped from her throat as she shattered in my arms. Her flesh constricted around my cock, heightening the sensation and I gritted my teeth as heat swept up my back and shoulders. I rammed deep twice more then dropped my head against her shoulder as I pulled free and spilled my seed over her stomach.

  Forcing my muscles to cooperate, I lifted my head and kissed her one last time, demanding and possessive, marking her as mine before I levered myself away from her. She pushed herself into a sitting position on the desk, and my gaze swept over her. Reality had more than lived up to the dreams; we would definitely have to revisit this particular fantasy later.

  I bent and picked up her sweater and pants, then passed them to her. She dressed quickly, and I did the same, both of us working in comfortable silence. Jules wasn’t chatty like typical women her age. She said whatever needed to be said in as few words as possible; otherwise she stayed silent. I knew from experience, though, that the woman didn’t miss a damn thing. She was used to looking over her shoulder, and no detail escaped her attention.

  I loved touching her, and I brushed one hand over her lower back as we made our way to the kitchen. She broke away from me then, moving toward the sink to load the dishwasher while I pulled out ingredients for tonight’s meal. Jules joined me as I placed pork chops in the pan to sear, watching me intently.

  In moments like these, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly where Jules had come from. The woman could practically burn water when she’d first shown up, and we’d spent the last couple months studying recipes and experimenting together. I was used to cooking for myself, so it didn’t bother me one bit to do most of the work. Just having Jules by my side was enough.

  She’d been awfully quiet this evening, and I surreptitiously studied her across the table. After we made love she seemed to retreat mentally, her mind a thousand miles away. Was she thinking about the wedding, or was it something else? “Have you thought about what you might like to do?”

  Her head jerked up, and she blinked uncomprehendingly at me. “For what?”

  Guess that answered my question. I fought down the mixture of apprehension and concern churning in my gut, praying to God she wasn’t already second-guessing it. “The wedding.”

  Jules’s eyes cleared, and a sardonic smile twisted her pretty lips. “Mia is already planning the whole thing.”

  I let out a little laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  Jack and Mia had just recently married, and under Mia’s direction, she and Jules had thrown everything together in only a couple weeks. It’d been classy and understated, but I wondered if that was enough for Jules.

  “Their wedding was nice,” I offered. “Do you want to keep it small or do something more lavish?”

  Personally, I thought weddings were a waste of time and money. My first marriage had been a sham of epic proportions. We’d spent thousands of dollars we didn’t have to put on a show for hundreds of people, only to get divorced less than two years later. I didn’t care whether we married in a courtroom or in some ostentatious ballroom somewhere; all I wanted was Jules.

  Jules lifted one shoulder. “What do you think?”

  Did she really not care, or was she dragging her feet? “I’ll go along with whatever you decide. All I want is for you to take my last name.”

  Jules froze, her fork suspended in midair, her stare fixed on her plate. I held my breath, waiting to see how she’d react. It was a small test of sorts, and the fact that she still hadn’t spoken of her past hovered over me like a black cloud. She’d come a long way since she’d first shown up here, and I knew she loved me, trusted me. I was going to find out sooner or later; she had to know that. Whether she was penniless or the heiress to a fortune didn’t matter one bit to me. So why wouldn’t she tell me what happened to her?

  Finally, she lowered her fork and met my gaze. “I want your name...” Her voice was soft but sure, the solemnity in her eyes almost overwhelming. “More than anything.”

  Pride infused me, and the frustration that’d been building in my chest immediately dissipated as I took in her sincerity. I couldn’t come up with any other words at the moment. It bothered me that she wouldn’t tell me her story, but it didn’t change the facts—Jules was here with me, and in a few short months, she would be my wife. Forever.

  I tipped my head at her plate. “You almost done?”

  She let out a slow breath and smiled shakily. “Yep. I’m going to clean up a bit, then I’ll be up.”

  I studied her from beneath my lashes for a long moment, a hundred emotions roiling inside me. She still seemed on edge, and though my mind wanted to drag forth every detail, my heart told me not to push. She would come to me in her own time—hopefully sooner rather than later.

  “Okay.” I pushed my chair back and stood, picking up my plate as I did so. I paused by her chair as I passed, then leaned down to cup the back of her head. She tilted her face tilted up, and her gaze met mine, something swirling in the emerald depths. Worry? Fear? I couldn’t be sure, but whatever it was, I wanted to push it away.

  I brushed my lips over hers. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She seemed to read the dual meaning of my statement, because her tongue darted out to wet her lips in a nervous gesture I’d seen a hundred times.

  I released her and set my plate by the sink, then headed upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. Jules followed half an hour later, and I flipped off the bedside lamp as she slid in next to me. Tangling her legs with mine, she pillowed her head on my shoulder as she snuggled in close to my body and laid one hand on my chest. A shaft of silvery moonlight spilled into the room, and it picked up the refraction of the diamond, making it sparkle. The sight of my ring on her finger marking her as mine sent a thrill of possession through me.

  Jules was strong and smart and independent, very much her own person—but her heart belonged to me as mine belonged to her. I knew deep down that there was no one else in the world for me; our souls were entwined like old friends, as if we’d known each other forever. I captured her tiny fingers, sealing them between my hand and my heart, wondering if she could feel every strong, rapid beat. I’d felt cold and lonely before Jules arrived, and she filled a space in my life and in my heart that had long been empty. I was so glad I’d given in to the attraction between us; she was the woman I’d been waiting for my whole life.

  I lightly drew my fingers over hers and traced the ring, the metal warm from her body. Turning my head, I brushed a kiss across her brow. So many emotions were conveyed in the silence between us. I felt every breath, every beat of her heart that thudded in time with mine. She let out a muffled little sound of contentment and turned her face into my neck.

  Her chest rose on an inhale, and I knew she was getting ready to speak. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” I stroked my hand over her head, tangling in
my fingers in her long mane of silky, dark hair.

  Her hand coasted up my chest and fingered the silvery scar at the base of my throat. My gut clenched, and every muscle in my body tensed. Most days, I could block it from my mind, push down the pain of loss. It was something I never wanted Jules to know about, but I couldn’t keep it from her forever.

  “This looks dangerous,” she remarked softly.

  I directed my attention to a spot on the ceiling. “It was,” I replied, memories of that night flooding my mind.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” Her soft voice, so full of love and understanding, twined around my heart and gave me the courage to continue.

  Aside from the men who’d fought beside me, I’d never told anyone the truth of what happened that awful night three years ago. “Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop. I saw some bad shit in the neighborhood where I grew up, and all I ever wanted to do was help people, protect them. As soon as I graduated, I went into the Academy. My ex-wife hated it, but—”

  Jules jerked upward, balanced on one elbow as she stared down at me with wide eyes. “You were married?”

  I couldn’t tell if that was disbelief or jealousy pinching her tone, but I hoped it was the latter. “Briefly,” I responded, hoping she would let it go. My first marriage was something I preferred to leave in the past and pretend had never happened.

  Her brows drew slightly together as she studied me. “Did you love her?”

  I turned my head slightly so I could see her better. “I thought so at the time. But it’s not even close to the way I feel about you.”

  Seeming to accept my answer, she allowed me to pull her back down into my arms. I stroked one hand down the expanse of her back and cupped her bottom where she lay partially draped over me. “I’ll never love anyone the way I do you.”

  It sounded cheesy, but it was the truth. I could feel her smile against my chest, and some of the tension left her body. I drew in a deep breath, resigned to telling her the tale of how I’d earned the scar that stretched across the base of my throat. “After I put in a few years on the force, I applied for a promotion. I ended up qualifying for a position with a SWAT team, and I took it. I loved the rush of it, the adrenaline high after each assignment.” I paused, unable to form the next words.

  Jules’s hand stroked lovingly over my chest, and she turned her head to place a kiss over my heart. With my free hand, I lifted a tendril of hair that lay on my chest and curled it around my finger.

  “We worked primarily with the police, but also any government agency that needed us. There was a crime syndicate, a branch of the mafia, that the FBI had been watching for a long time. They caught wind of an incoming shipment of illegal firearms and set up a sting to intercept them.”

  Jules’s entire body went rigid, and guilt slammed into me. So innocent, almost naïve, I hated to sully her with details of the darker parts of life. My hand left her bottom and traced soothing circles over her back as I continued.

  “The weapons were set to be delivered to a warehouse just outside of town, and we all got into place as soon as the trucks arrived.” I shook my head. “I still don’t know what went wrong. But the second we stepped inside, it turned into a nightmare. All I remember is the rapid fire of pistols and assault rifles discharging, echoing in my ears. My partner, Ric, was beside me and, all of a sudden, he dropped, and I knew he’d been hit.”

  I swallowed hard, the past unfolding before my eyes. “The shooting seemed to go on forever, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. As soon as we had them neutralized, I focused on Ric. We were partially concealed behind a pillar, so I set down my rifle to start chest compressions until the medic could get to him.

  “I never heard the guy behind me—he just came out of nowhere—and slipped the blade beneath my helmet. Ric must’ve seen him coming, because he whipped my rifle over my shoulder and fired before I even knew he was there. The pain was excruciating, like fire ripping across my skin. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think...” It was a stroke of luck that I’d turned my head just at that moment. He’d come so damn close the artery; a few millimeters to the left and I would’ve bled out. I tried not to choke on my next words. “Ric saved my life, but... he didn’t make it.”

  Jules trembled in my arms, and her hand curled into a tiny fist where it rested on my chest. “Did you find out who it was?”

  I let out a little sigh. “The boss of the crime family, the head of the Chicago outfit. Ric’s shot had met its mark, and I was told he died instantly. The Feds arrested everyone else, but only a few were charged. Things were quiet for a while, but I’m sure someone took over operations.”

  “I’m sure,” Jules parroted from beside me, her voice high and thin.

  I pushed on, wanting to lighten the mood. “After that, I just needed some peace and quiet. I’d heard about this place from a friend, so I packed up and moved out. Somehow, the people here in town managed to coerce me into running for sheriff, and I got elected almost two years ago.”

  Her head nodded against my chest before she slithered off my body and rolled so her back was facing me. I knew it was a hard story to digest, and though I wanted to give her space to process everything, I needed to feel her in my arms. I turned on my side and spooned her, draping one arm over her stomach.

  I felt lighter after telling her the story, and I was glad to get the weight of it off my chest. It was one less thing between us. I smiled, remembering her reaction when I’d told her I was married. I liked that she was possessive and protective, but she had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  The trembling of her body next to me drew my attention, and I heard a slight hitch in her breathing. Suddenly, it hit me—she was crying. “Jules, what’s wrong?”

  Her hair tickled my cheek as she shook her head, and I lifted onto one elbow. The sight of silvery tears coasting down her cheeks threatened to rip my insides to shreds. Fuck, I hated to see her cry. “Talk to me, babe.”

  She shook her head again, eyes clenched tightly closed, and I sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything—”

  “It’s...” Her chest rose on a shuddering sob as she tried to rein in her tears. “Thanks for telling me.”

  I nodded, though I still felt like an asshole as I lay down next to her again. For several long minutes we remained silent while I trailed my fingers up and down her arm, unable to sever the connection between us just yet. I paused my movement as she spoke.

  “Eric?”

  I lifted my head, my hand slipping down to the indent in her waist. “Yeah?”

  I could hear her swallow hard. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Me, too.” I settled back down next to her. “Love you.”

  After a long moment, her hand moved to mine and laced our fingers together. Her chest rose and fell, then she squeezed my fingers where they rested on her stomach. She hadn’t said the words, but she didn’t have to; I knew she loved me just as much as I loved her. Burying my nose against the back of her neck, I dropped a gentle kiss there, then allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

  Seven

  Giuliana

  I felt the soft brush of Eric’s lips across my forehead, but I kept my eyes clenched closed, feigning sleep. His footsteps moved away from the bed, then down the stairs and out the door. As soon as I heard the tell-tale snick of the lock snapping into place, my eyes popped open. I flopped onto my back and stared at the pinewood ceiling.

  I’d almost told Eric about my past last night, but I’d chickened out at the last moment. Instead, I’d asked about his. Now I almost wished I hadn’t.

  I’d lain awake half the night, trying to process everything he’d told me. Strangely, the first thing that popped into my mind was the fact that, somewhere out there, was a woman who’d loved him first. Irrational jealousy roared through my blood, turning my body hot. For some odd reason, I couldn’t picture Eric being married. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to; I wanted to believe that h
e was meant for me alone, and no one else. My gaze strayed to the ring on my left hand, and I brushed my thumb over the warm metal. My heart broke a little bit as my thoughts turned to the second part of our conversation.

  Eric was good. Noble. Everything right in this world. He was also partially responsible for my father’s death.

  I’d found a man I loved with my whole heart, but at what price? It wasn’t fair that Eric had survived while Daddy hadn’t. I remembered those days just after his death when my world had been shrouded in sadness and pain. Mama and I were never particularly close, and I’d lost the only person who’d truly loved me in the warehouse that night. Daddy had been barely cold in the ground when Mama pawned me off on Uncle Massimo. It was for my own good, she’d told me. I was the boss’s daughter, and Massimo would keep me safe.

  She’d lied. I would’ve been better off alone in the streets than enduring the physical and mental abuse I was subjected to under my uncle’s supervision. I was starved, locked away in my bedroom, unable to leave the house. Then there was the closet. I hated the dark confine of that tiny room most of all. When I spoke up or acted out, Uncle would lock me in the closet for hours at a time. My hand flew to my throat just thinking about the thick, humid air clogging my lungs as I tried to breathe.

  I hated that they’d taken my father away from me. If Daddy hadn’t died, none of that would have happened. I was furious with the man who’d taken that shot and changed my life forever. I hated all of them. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, regret burned in my stomach like acid. Eric was a good man and a good cop who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just like Daddy.

  My emotions ping-ponged all over the place, and I didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Eric wasn’t directly responsible; he hadn’t been the one to shoot my father. Both men had walked into the warehouse that night knowing the consequences of their actions. I couldn’t delude myself—my father wasn’t a good man. Although Eric’s story had stunned me, it made sense. My father was known for his expertise with knives. I shuddered at the thought of the long scar along the base of Eric’s throat. In my mind, I could hear his raspy, roughened voice. He’d been hurt—badly—because of my father. He was damn lucky to even be alive. It just hurt that Daddy couldn’t be here, too.