Jack rolled again to his side, moving her to hers and he held her close as his face got closer.
“What I can promise is we’ll do the best we can and we’ll keep him as safe as we can.” His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her head gently back so he could get even closer before he finished, “And even when he’s pissing us off or we’re worried about him, I can promise you that we’ll be happy we took this risk.”
He felt a shudder move through her body and she pressed tighter to him before she asked softly, “Do you think Davey and Penny’s Mum and Dad were happy they took the risk?”
Jack’s reply was immediate, “Yes.”
She wet her lips before her eyes dropped to his throat and she whispered, “I suspect you’re right.”
He gave her hair a soft tug and her gaze came back to him.
“Are you all right now?” he asked and he watched her blink, her expression turning oddly startled before it cleared.
“I think I am,” she answered, sounding surprised by her own words.
He brushed her mouth with his and said, “Good.”
Then he moved to turn off the light but she moved with him, her hand coming up to grab his forearm and he turned back to her in enquiry.
“I think I am,” she repeated. “I think I’m all right.”
Jack stared at her a moment before he said, “I got that, poppet.”
She shook her head and came up on a forearm to look down at him. “You don’t get it, Jack. I said, I think I’m all right.”
Jack rose to his own forearm to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, love, but you’re going to have to explain to me what I don’t get.”
“I’m all right,” she repeated and when she did Jack smiled instead of laughing which he preferred to do but it would likely have annoyed her. Then he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
“Repeating it isn’t going to help me understand, Belle,” he explained.
“I remembered,” she whispered, her voice solemn. “I remembered something horrific, something I didn’t think I could handle.” She leaned closer, put her hand on his chest and looked directly into his eyes. “And I’m all right.”
His fingers at her neck gave her a squeeze. “I’m glad, my love.”
He started to move to switch off the light again but turned back when she said, “Jack, no.”
His eyes caught hers and he waited.
“I’m not strong,” she admitted softly. “You know that. I’ve never been strong. Never in my whole life. If I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have been able to handle that.” Her hand went to her belly as did her gaze before returning to him. “Or this,” she threw her arm out and went on, “or anything.”
“Belle –” he started to disagree but she finished what she intended to say, using words that tore through his system, searing a direct path straight to his soul.
“But I’m all right because I’m not alone. I’m all right because I’m with you. Tonight, you made me all right.”
Jack’s body went still, his eyes held hers for a long moment and he forgot about the light. He forgot about going back to sleep. He forgot about everything.
He forgot that he graduated top of his class.
He forgot that he’d been made captain of the rugby team not because of his name but because of his abilities.
He forgot that he’d turned his back on the family business and built his own company from nothing.
He forgot the thrill he felt when he earned his first million pounds through his own hard work.
He forgot when he earned his second.
He forgot all the times he’d bested his brother.
And he forgot the last words his father said to him, telling Jack that he made him proud.
He forgot about everything he’d ever achieved, everything that ever mattered to him and in that instant, thought that if he’d never succeeded in anything again, that would be perfectly fine.
Because he’d made Belle feel all right.
When he came unstuck, he didn’t turn to the light.
He shifted into Belle’s soft body and she readily accepted his weight, his mouth on hers and his hands trailing along her skin.
And although they’d made love in his room four times before. Although he remembered every second of every time, all of them magnificent and one of them life-altering in a way Jack would be grateful for until the end of his days. None of them were as beautiful as that night when he slid inside her as her fingers glided into his hair, her calves wrapped around his thighs, his tongue tangled with hers and that sexy noise slid from her throat into the depths of his.
She was not filled with fear, with panic, with anxiety.
She was filled with him and his child, moaning her desire into his mouth.
And Jack was making her more than all right.
Chapter Sixteen
The Third Ghost
Belle
Belle drove her own car back to The Point, her mother beside her.
Mom had wanted to drive but Belle pitched a rude, un-Belle-like fit.
She hadn’t driven a car in weeks, hadn’t made but the meals she prepared for Jack, hadn’t done a load of laundry, hadn’t even made her own bed.
It was driving her up the wall.
She was pregnant, not invalid!
Therefore, she was going to drive herself and her mother home and no one was going to stop her.
Even though she was annoyed that everyone was treating her like she was a fragile piece of glass, it had been a good day.
The first really good day in a very long time.
She had woken in Jack’s arms. Then she took a shower in Jack’s bathroom (with Jack). She’d put on her makeup at his bathroom mirror while she listened to him talk on his phone in the bedroom. He’d even zipped the zipper at the side of her dress (which was, she saw, getting tight).
And they’d walked down to breakfast together holding hands.
Belle Abbot holding hands with James Bennett while they walked through his huge, imposing castle on their way to breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She thought she might have a major panic attack at the very thought of settling into life by Jack’s side. She thought she’d spend all her time questioning his attraction to her and also questioning her trust in him. She thought she would make excuses to run away, to protect herself, it was too soon, there were too many ifs, she wasn’t good enough for him, she couldn’t feel safe with him.
She thought her mind, as it always had done, would work against her.
But none of that happened.
It was, for some reason, easy.
It seemed to come naturally.
And this, Belle was certain, was all because of Jack.
He was good with her and her crazy behaviour. He was also good with her crazy mother and grandmother. Further, he was good with his own crazy mother. And lastly, he was good with the equally crazy Yasmin.
He’d been overrun by women, crazy women, and he didn’t seem to care.
Not even a little bit.
What he seemed, and what Belle was taking a risk to believe, was a man who had a lot of patience, a bizarre (to Belle’s way of thinking) but ever present sense of humour, more than a little bit of tenderness and what appeared to be a lot of love.
Belle was betting everything important in her life (her sanity, her faith in her fellow man, things like that) that she was right.
That morning after breakfast, Jack had driven her to work while Olive went straight to the airport where he was going to fly them both to London. The gods were definitely smiling on them because the day before, after Jack had publicly spent the night in Belle’s cottage, the media were in a frenzy.
That morning, however, something else must have been happening in the world. There were half as many photographers and they hung back, none of them shouting questions.
Apparently, Jack and Belle were still news, just old news.
There were, she guessed, only so many pictures worth taking of Jack walking Belle to her store.
And for that, as she had done a half a dozen times that morning, she thanked her lucky stars.
Jack had left her at the store. After, of course, on the stairs, he’d given her a long, sweet, thorough kiss and told her to have a good day.
Belle’s mother had come later in the morning to be Belle’s newest shop assistant. Dirk had taken Mom under his wing and, even though the media seemed to be losing interest, the customers definitely weren’t. It was high season in St. Ives and Belle’s store was a crush. This happened during high season but, because of her recent spate of popularity in the papers, it had shot straight to ridiculous.
Belle was happy to leave Dirk and Mom in the shop while she, Nola and Carol saw to their business upstairs with Nola or Carol wandering down when things got too mad which wasn’t often. Dirk was Super Shop Assistant. He was the only man Belle knew who could multitask and do it while charming every customer into buying that one, do-I-really-need-that? item which he did by giving them a blinding grin. That was it. He said nothing, just grinned at them.
It made for a brilliant day.
It also helped knowing she’d be going home to the criminally handsome Jack Bennett, the father of her child and, apparently, the real-life, walking, talking, breathing, kissing, making love, showering together and holding hands man of her dreams.
She only had two moments that caused blips in her day and they came back to back.
The first was when she was alone in the workroom, Nola off to get sandwiches, Carol downstairs to help with the crush.
Belle was drawing a pattern for a new blouse she was going to introduce when the vision of Davey and Penny, sightless and lifeless, their limbs floating eerily in the water, seared through her brain.
At the memory, she pulled in a deep, horrified breath at the same exact moment her mobile rang.
The display said, “Jack Calling”.
Belle stared at the phone, stunned for a second then picked it up and hit the green button on the screen answering it in a quiet voice by asking, “How did you know?”
There was silence then Jack queried, “Belle?”
She didn’t respond to his call, instead she repeated, “How did you know I needed you to call?”
Jack’s voice no longer sounded questioning. It sounded alert when he enquired, “What’s happened?”
She shook her head, realised he couldn’t see her and answered, “Nothing. I just, two seconds ago, remembered Davey and Penny. Then you called as if you knew I needed you to call. How did you know?”
“Poppet,” he replied, his voice soft and warm, “I wish I could tell you I knew you needed me but I didn’t. I was calling to tell you I wouldn’t be home for dinner.”
“Oh,” Belle murmured.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
More silence then, “Belle.”
“Really, Jack, I’m fine,” she assured him, though she wasn’t.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was uncanny, the minute her mind had filled with terrible, frightening images and, even though she didn’t consciously think it, unconsciously, she needed him and all of a sudden he called.
There was something weird about that.
Wonderful but weird.
“Poppet –” she heard him call softly in her ear.
“Jack, I’m fine,” she repeated, stronger this time.
There was silence a moment then he asked, “Will you walk the dogs?”
Belle didn’t like the sound of that and enquired, “How late are you going to be?”
“You’ll wake up next to me.”
Holy heck.
“That sounds like it means you’ll be really late,” she whispered tentatively.
“Yes, my love,” he replied cautiously.
“Does that mean you’ll be…” she paused, her heart clenching, she swallowed and then asked in a rush, “flying in the dark?”
He didn’t answer her question instead he declared, “I’ll be safe.”
“Will you be flying in the dark?” she asked again.
“Maybe,” he answered, his tone still cautious.
“Oh my goodness gracious,” she breathed.
“Poppet, I’ve flown in the dark before.”
“Okay,” she replied swiftly, thinking it best that she didn’t think at all about him flying in the dark. It was hard enough driving in the dark when you had headlights and even high beams.
But dark sky was just dark.
Did they have lights on planes?
And, if they didn’t (and even if they did!), how would he know his way? How would he see if something was flying at him, a bird, another plane?
Belle knew there were instruments and all that kind of stuff, still her heart skipped a beat.
“Lots of times, my love,” he continued to try and reassure her.
“Okay,” she lied.
“I’ll be fine.”
Belle could take no more and therefore, as ridiculous as it sounded and as crazy as she knew he’d think she was, to protect her fragile sanity she started chanting, “La la la, I’m not involved in this conversation, la la la.”
She heard him chuckle before he changed the subject and prompted, “Baron and Gretl?”
Happy to be on a much safer topic, she replied, “Of course I’ll walk them.”
“If it rains, ask Lila to do it,” he ordered.
Belle walked from her drafting board to the window and looked out, unseeing.
“Oh, so it’s okay if Gram slips on the wet, treacherous cliff path but not me?” Belle tried to tease, slightly embarrassed about her chanting and wondering vaguely how long it would take for him to grow tired of her neuroses. It took Calvin, if memory served (and it did), two weeks and three days after their honeymoon to grow tired of it.
“She’s lived a full life,” Jack teased back audaciously, pulling her from her thoughts and startling a giggle from Belle but she stopped laughing when she heard him murmur in his low and rumbly voice, “Jesus, I love that sound.”
“What sound?” Belle whispered, caught up in his voice.
“The sound of you,” he replied and finished, “happy.”
That trill went up her spine straight into her scalp and she felt her belly dip and he wasn’t even looking at her. He wasn’t even in the same town as her.
“Jack –” she replied softly, warmth in her voice.
He cut her off but there was warmth in his voice too, “Don’t wait up for me, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Good-bye, poppet.”
“’Bye, Jack.”
Then he rang off.
And she stared out the window, smiling to herself before her eyes caught on something and focussed.
It was that man she’d seen days earlier, the ruggedly handsome one with the dark brown hair. He was standing in the same spot as he was before, his head tipped back and he was looking at her through the window.
She took three hasty steps back and just stopped herself from falling into a crouch.
“Holy heck,” she breathed, thinking that was not a matter of coincidental eye contact. He was there for a reason and he was watching her.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she retreated three more steps and considered calling Jack back. Then she considered screaming for Dirk.
Then, with effort, she pulled herself together.
He was standing outside looking in her window. The first time she saw him, he was gazing at her, a kind and benign expression on his face. This time was just the same.
He wasn’t charging her store and kidnapping her.
He didn’t flash her or even look weird.
Belle took a shaky, calming breath.
She was pregnant. She was hormonal. She was living in a haunted house. She wasn’t making her own bed or her own food. She was falling in love with the criminally at
tractive James Bennett if she wasn’t already in love with him, head over heels in love which, she had to admit, she pretty much was (who was she kidding, she totally was).
And, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was falling in love with her too.
She didn’t have a weird, kind-looking, handsome stalker.
He was probably a local she hadn’t yet seen. Someone new to town, waiting for his wife to finish in some shop. Maybe her shop.
Men stood outside waiting for their women all the time not wanting to be shopping at all but definitely not wanting to be drawn into a clothing shop where they would invariably be asked, “Does my butt look big in this?”
In fact, Belle had considered putting a bench outside for these gentleman so they could have a rest, it happened so often.
Cautiously, she approached the window and when she did, he was gone.
She took a huge breath and forced herself to relax.
So, she’d taken a big risk, jumped into shark-infested waters and found herself something so rich and rewarding it was impossible to believe her good fortune or the strength of the lucky stars that shown down on her, recently, both day and night.
She wouldn’t allow her mind, which consistently played nasty tricks on her, to create problems that weren’t even real.
So she set it aside and went back to work.
Now she was driving home with her mother and she knew her evening would be full.
Not with Jack, having dinner then walking the dogs then spending the evening with him in his study then going to bed together and making love.
No, with Cassandra McNabb, the clairvoyant, white witch with good references and The McPherson, an unknown entity, both who dispatched ghosts to hell.
“Are you sure about this Cassandra person and The McPherson?” Belle asked her mother as The Point came into view.
“I’ve got a feeling in my bones,” her mother replied calmly.
Belle nodded and smiled.
It might be crazy but that was good enough for her.
Yasmin’s sporty Audi was in the forecourt and Belle parked her not-so-sporty Peugeot next to it.
Rachel eyed the Audi and remarked, “I love Yasmin’s car. She let me drive it the other day.” Belle switched off the ignition and looked at her mother as she continued, “Maybe you should ask Jack to buy you one of those.”
Lucky Stars Page 30
