"I understand how it would make him jaded," Jamie said.
"I couldn't find anything on Conrad Malcolm, but I sweet-talked my way into taking a peek at the police files on Lauren's death and the file was almost empty. Just a copy of the death certificate, which labeled it an accident. Seems strange, doesn't it? I think the file has been cleaned out but why? And by whom?"
"Good question. Maybe Aidan?"
"Maybe. Aidan did have Lauren cremated rather than buried. Maybe he didn't want anyone pursuing it. It's hard when you live in a small town. Everyone knows your business. I think Aidan wanted to keep a scandal from breaking out for the sake of his son."
"Can you ask Travis about it?"
"I can, but he's pretty tight lipped about Aidan's past. He and Aidan have been like brothers since Danny died. Travis is super protective of him."
"I understand. You can't ask him to betray his friend. Still, I have to find out what happened between Aidan and Conrad. I feel like I'm very close but need to find the missing link. I feel like it's right smack in front of my nose."
"I'll keep digging. Something is bound to crop up."
They ordered dinner and another glass of wine. When they finally left, Jamie found herself looking toward the bar where she had last seen Aidan sitting. He wasn't there, and she felt her mood sink a little.
Jamie was feeling a bit blue when she opened her front door and found Thorn surrounded by shredded newspaper.
"Well," she sighed, "I guess I can't blame you after encouraging you before." Thorn jumped at her, licking her face as she bent down and picked up the scraps of paper and then followed her into the kitchen, barking excitedly.
"All right, all right," she said as she stepped into the pantry. She came back with a scoop of his food and filled his bowl. Thorn finished the last of his dinner and then slurped water from his bowl, sloshing it all over the kitchen floor.
Jamie retrieved a towel from a kitchen drawer to wipe the floor. How her life had changed in a matter of weeks. Having Thorn brought an unpredictable joy to her life that she had never experienced before. It soothed her to pet him, to talk to him, to care for him. It was probably better therapy than some high-priced psychiatrist, she thought wryly. She wiped up the water and sank down on the floor next to Thorn. He snuggled his nose cozily against her and curled up on her lap. She smiled contentedly.
She was changing as her life was changing. She had been the career woman for so long, ran her life like she ran her business, orderly, professionally, prudently. But from the moment she had seen Aidan Brice's photo in the paper, something snapped inside of her.
Perhaps it was nostalgia for her hometown and a simpler way of life. Perhaps it was about wanting to date a guy who'd intrigued her when she was a teenager. Or maybe she had experienced an epiphany when she walked into her condo full of black roses. Whatever it was, she had come to realize that her life was sorely lacking in many aspects.
Tonight, she'd felt the aching, crushing of her heart as she had when Aidan had passed her by in the halls of their old high school. The memory of the night the hurricane had stuck them together were seared in her mind. Those sweet kisses were ingrained in her memory forever. She would never forget it.
But it was over now and Aidan had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't interested in a relationship with her, despite what he'd said tonight. He might enjoy their kisses, and he may even be attracted to her, but he couldn't consider her a permanent part of his life. That was why he didn't tell her about his son. That is why he figured that she was a safe bet for a few laughs, a good time for a short while. It didn't help that he had heard it from her own mouth that she was looking for nothing but a fling with him.
"Darn it," she whispered softly, "After our soul kisses, how could you believe such a thing?"
Kerrie was right. She should let sleeping dogs lie. She had found out way too much about Aidan by now, about his family, his past. His beautiful, motherless son. She knew she should cut her losses and go home to Palm Beach where she belonged. She should stop longing for the past and for Villa Milagros. She should stop thinking about kids and houses and falling in love. And stop thinking about Aidan Brice. Especially Aidan Brice.
Tomorrow she would decide if she could give up her mother's home, the home she worked toward recovering her entire adult life, and walk away from Aidan Brice.
And she wasn't sure which would be harder.
~
Aidan awoke the next morning with a dry mouth and a splitting headache. He hadn't drunk that many beers last night, but then again it had been ages since he had been out. Being a single father didn't lend itself to late nights out with the boys. As he sat up in bed, his head pounding wildly, he was certainly glad of it. His night out with Travis had been unfruitful. Travis told him little of Jamie's family, which only added to his foul mood. He much preferred a night out with Ross at the miniature golf course. Drinking was something he had outgrown and happily so. It was the aggravation of that sphinx Jamie. She could drive a monk to drink, the impossible devil.
Ross was at a sleepover, so Aidan was free for the day. He rose achingly out of bed and headed downstairs to make coffee. He was done with these little games Jamie was playing. He was in no mood for them this morning. He was going to have a serious talk with her and set her straight. Set a lot of things straight.
First of all, he would settle his employment status concerning the work on her house. Second of all, he would get the full story of why she wanted Villa Milagros so badly. And finally, he was going to clear up her misconception about his ties to Malcolm, and destroy any illusions she might have about the jerk. He might even tell her about Lauren's death, but at moment he wasn't sure. He was starting to think she hadn't told him the truth about Conrad's threats, and that she was in deeper danger than she realized.
About what had happened between the two of them, all those kisses… he took a sip of coffee. He'd think about that later.
He showered, shaved and dressed presentably in jeans and a crisp clean shirt. He drank another cup of coffee, eschewed breakfast, and walked out the door before he could change his mind.
He didn't bother knocking. Her conspicuous car was still in the driveway. It was still early, a bit before nine o'clock he guessed. Maybe he would find her still sleeping, and he could awaken her light a knight in shining armor. But the house was quiet, too quiet when he stepped into the foyer. No shower was running, no puppy happy to greet him. Dead silence.
"Jamie?"
No answer. A deep dread crept through him, a dread he had felt before on two unhappy occasions. He walked down the hall to the master bedroom. Empty. He checked the bathroom and other bedroom. Empty. The dread grew to a deep, painful gnawing. He remembered the phone calls long ago. Phone calls about Danny and Lauren that had forever changed his life.
He had thought it impossible to bear at the time but he did bear it. He had a son to take care of, a son whose very existence probably saved him from giving in completely to despair. His own parents had forgotten that they still had a son left after Danny had died. They'd abandoned Aidan both physically and emotionally. He vowed to never treat Ross in such a way.
Maybe in some ways he had. He had shut himself away from life as much as his own parents had in their self-imposed isolation. Until he met Jamie with her spark and fire, her silly formalities and genuine charm.
"Jamie!" He strode through the silent living room toward the kitchen. He cocked his head to listen as a faint whimpering sound filtered through the silence. A soft scratch against the door grew louder. His pulse quickened.
Aidan ran to the kitchen, searching frantically but still no Jamie. A shrill bark filled the air and Aidan lunged toward the backdoor to find a grateful Thorn waiting outside. The mutt immediately jumped through the threshold of the door, and up against Aidan's knees.
Aidan calmed Thorn with a good scratch behind the ears. "Okay, buddy, okay. Where is Jamie?"
Thorn sniffed around the room without furthe
r provocation, anxious to find Jamie. He stopped at the pantry and scratched wildly against the door.
The door was locked from the inside or jammed. He knocked harshly on the door. "Jamie!" He waited impatiently for a reply. An eternal moment of silence passed before he finally heard a faint mumble. Thorn went ballistic, barking and scratching at the door.
"I can't open the door. It's blocked," she said in a barely perceptible voice.
Aidan felt the tension in his body melt away. "Are you hurt?"
"The ceiling caved in and a beam knocked me out." she said. "I'm okay. I need to get out of here." Her voice was shaking, weary. He sensed her controlled panic.
"Stand away from the door!" he shouted.
"I'm as far as I can be. It's a small room!" she answered.
"Cover your face," he said.
"Done. Now will you please hurry up?"
Aidan smiled. She hadn't lost her feistiness. A good sign.
The crumbling plaster walls and old age of the original doorframe made it easier to pry the doorframe loose. He took a deep breath and pulled heavily on the door and casing. After a few hefty pulls the entire shebang came away from the walls in a tumbling crash.
Inside, Jamie sat curled up, covered in plaster debris. She looked up at Aidan, at the door and then back at Aidan as disbelief washed over her face.
Aidan glanced sheepishly at the torn door. He knelt down in front of Jamie and cupped her face in his hands.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice laden with concern.
"The ceiling caved in while I was getting Thorn's food. I guess the beam must have hit me and knocked me out. When I woke, the door was blocked. I couldn't get out," she said, the panic still alive in her voice.
Aidan brushed some crumbs of plaster out of her hair and ran his fingers along the side of her face and across a horrible welt that had begun to form on her forehead. She winced slightly.
"You could have been killed." He didn't bother hiding the distress in his voice.
He couldn't help himself when he brushed his lips to her cheek and drew her urgently into his arms. She returned the hug instantly, her embrace warm and without restraint. He heard a slight sob in her voice as she dropped her head against his shoulder and relaxed against him.
He held her tightly, feeling relief with every breath and he softly kissed her hair, her ears, her cheeks, reveling in the fact that she was alive and safe in his arms. She said nothing more but closed her eyes and gave into him, accepting his doting affection, at least momentarily. At that moment, it dawned on him with sudden clarity that it would take more than a hug, more than a kiss, more than one night during a hurricane to satisfy his need to be with Jamie. He pressed his lips softly against her forehead and closed his eyes at this sudden revelation.
It was going to take a lifetime.
Chapter Thirteen
Jamie's mind was cloudy and confused, and she was willing to bet that it was more than the ceiling beam that had hit her on the head. The man kneeling in front of her so obviously worried about her well-being, was more dangerous to her than the blow to her head she had received. She raised her hand to the prominent bump that she felt forming on her forehead.
She looked away from the piercing grey eyes that stared at her. "I need some ice."
"You need to get out of here," Aidan said gruffly.
She began to rise but dizziness caused her to sway slightly. Aidan swiftly picked her up, cradled her in his capable arms and carried her out of the pantry. He laid her down on her bed gently and left, returning shortly with a bulging kitchen towel full of ice. He sat next to her and rested the ice on her forehead.
She felt exhausted from the whole ordeal. She was too tired to fight anymore and decided to accept the reality of the moment and bask in Aidan's unwavering attention. It wouldn't be long before the battle between them was opened once again so she might as well revel in the peace while it lasted. She relaxed her head against the softness of the pillow and let her eyes close as Aidan stroked her hair.
Aidan watched her. He watched the soft fluttering of her eyelashes, watched the rise and fall of her chest as she fell into a deep sleep. He watched anxiously as she slept, replacing the cold towel at her forehead with a new one and checking her pulse of several occasions. When he was satisfied that she was not in serious danger, he quietly left the room while Thorn sat guarding Jamie's bed.
He stood silently in the broken doorway of the pantry. Shards of splintered wood sat undisturbed on the floor. He examined the fallen beam and the broken ceiling and could only come to one conclusion. Someone had tampered with the beam. He had done a thorough inspection of the house after the hurricane had shimmered past Seabrook. The house did need a new roof but the trusses and supporting beams were made of Dade County Pine that was nearly petrified with age. It was as solid as marble.
He ran his hand over the rough wood beam that had crashed through the ceiling. He turned his palm up. No splinters. The beam had been burned completely through with some sort of acid. The fact that Jamie had not received the full force of its fall was a miracle that saved her life. Someone was trying to kill her. And he knew without a doubt who that someone might be.
Conrad Malcolm.
He spun around and sprinted back to the bedroom where Jamie slept. She looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, a beauty deep in sleep, peaceful and silent. He returned to the kitchen for more ice and noticed an invitation attached to the refrigerator door.
American Cancer Society Gala
Saturday, October 22
Black Tie
RSVP
The party was Saturday. He would be attending as Jamie's date, whether she liked it or not. He was sure Conrad would be there and he wanted to know his enemy. See him in his own environment. It was about time he tied up loose ends. Jamie was not going to become another one of Conrad's expendable commodities. Aidan was going to do what he hadn't done when he was too young and inexperienced, what he hadn't done when as a widowed husband who was too stricken with grief. He was going to bring Conrad Malcolm to justice.
Then, he was going to come to terms with his feelings for Jamie. For so long he had wanted nothing in life for himself; now he wanted it all. He wanted Ross happy and well adjusted; he wanted success and a nice home for his family, and he wanted a woman, a partner to share his life with, to have his children and to be a mother to his son. And the woman he wanted in his life was Jamie.
He went back to her bedroom, lay down on the bed next to her and snuggled up against her soft body. He felt the stirrings of overwhelming emotion just breathing in the scent of her. He reached over and grasped her hand, letting his fingers slide between hers, the touch both comforting and terrifying. He swore under his breath. Not a curse but a promise. He would protect this woman and destroy anyone who tried to harm her.
There was no mistaking the man who lay next to her cared for her. Jamie awakened the second he lay on the bed. Emotion flowed through her the minute his fingers touched hers, warm and protective. It was simple chemistry. They had a certain chemistry that existed between some people, that was all. She rolled over slowly, and he tightened his grip around her hand, as if to keep her bound to him. She was already bound to him, bound to him in more ways than he could imagine. He had a hold on her heart that no man ever had before.
Her head was pounding. She could feel the ice had melted in the cloth on her forehead, leaving it tepid and damp. She needed to get more ice, or she would look like she'd been street fighting when she showed up at the Gala on Saturday. She planned to set things straight at the Gala, with Conrad, with the Press and with the society people she'd earned her livelihood by for the last decade. She wanted to break away from the life that had given her so much financial freedom but now felt like a prison.
She leaned contentedly against the warm body wrapped around her. For the first time since her mother had died, she felt secure. Lying here quietly hand in hand with Aidan, she felt safe. It felt like home.
&
nbsp; Aidan's hand was snugly clasped around hers. They were skilled, capable hands. Hands that created, that restored beauty to old worn buildings; that saved puppies and comforted small children. They were the hands of a hard worker, a father. A lover.
She thought of the times they'd kissed, how he held her face in his hands with such gentle affection. She rested her hand against his and caressed his fingertips. She felt overwhelmed with something more than mere attraction. She felt emotion.
She could no longer deny it. She was vulnerable now, lost to a man who did not love her. To a man who thought she was nothing more than a driven career woman suited for a casual fling. While there was no doubt in her mind that Aidan cared for her, she knew he didn't take their relationship seriously. He had made that clear by keeping his son and so many other secrets from her. Most of all, he wanted to tear down her beloved home. That was reason enough to keep her emotions under wrap.
She wasn't going to stick around and try and win Aidan's love. She was going back to her hectic schedules, her successful business, her pretentious society clients and get on with her life. Paris was beautiful in the fall. She would go away and take a reality check on her life. And when she returned, she would know what to do. If she stayed here, in the fleeting, warm affections of Aidan Brice, she would end up heartbroken.
She started to pull away from him, to break the imaginary security she felt with just the touch of his hand, but Aidan wrapped his arms around her in a soothing cuddle.
"Where do you think you're going??"
She rolled over, forcing him to loosen his grip. "I don't think I'm going anywhere. I am going to get up now. I have things to do," she said bluntly.
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