"Elizabeth, what happened?" James leaned forward.
Elizabeth stared at the pile on the table next to her chair. She lifted the stack of papers and sat it on the coffee table between them.
"What is this?"
"It's evidence that proves you diverted $650,000 from your company's inactive accounts to a bank in Barbados."
Shock registered in his eyes. "Elizabeth, I can explain this--"
"I went to the police station today," she interrupted.
James sipped his coffee. Elizabeth remembered Detective Robinson and his technique of buying himself time. James's jaw set and the ruthless face stared at her.
"I wanted to review the accident report of the night Claire died."
James stiffened. His gazed bounced back and forth between the papers and her. "What did you find?"
"I ran into the officer who took the report. He's a detective now."
"You gave him these files?"
Elizabeth sipped her cream-only coffee. "No, I didn't."
The breath he let out was audible. She related the detective's story, leaving nothing out. James listened without interruption. When she finished she stood up and joined him on the opposite end of the sofa.
"Why didn't you tell me it was Claire? You let me believe you'd stolen money and tried to blame Claire for it, when all the time Claire was doing the stealing, framing you and you were covering for her."
"I wasn't covering for her, Elizabeth," he said. "I was covering for you. Theresa berated me for not letting you know the whole truth." He paused. "I knew how you felt about Claire. You thought she'd sacrificed everything for you when all the while she was doing everything in the world to hurt you."
"I don't understand."
James slid closer to her. "The night of the accident she came to the office. We'd had the annual Christmas party. Everyone had gone and I was about to leave when she showed up. She threatened to go to the police with lies. Tell them that I had embezzled money, sent it to a bank outside the United States. She had everything. It was all there in computer files, my identification code next to everything. On paper I was a thief."
Elizabeth listened without emotion.
"She'd taken $650,000 before I found out. That wasn't enough money for her. She want more. If I didn't give her another $500,000 she was going to tell you and the SEC all about the set up. I refused to be blackmailed. I knew if I paid her she'd have an axe to hold over me for the rest of my life. Claire was angry. She swore she'd go to the police, ruin me, no investor in his right mind would ever use my firm after she finished with me."
Elizabeth's breath caught. Claire was her sister, yet the woman he described was foreign to her.
"She wouldn't tell me where the files were hidden," he went on. "I wasn't even sure they really existed. She told so many lies, covering one set with another." James paused. "She said if anything happened to her, they would be delivered to the police. I was chasing her, hoping to stop her from getting to you when she hit the patch of ice and spun out of control. After that I waited, knowing every day the police would come and arrest me. With Theresa's help we managed to cover up the evidence Claire had falsified. Luckily the SEC believed us when we went before them and no one lost any money."
"But you did lose some clients."
"They've since returned with even greater investments."
"I'm sorry, James." Elizabeth dropped her head. James moved close enough to slip his arm around her shoulders.
"Don't be. You did nothing to be sorry about."
"I accused you of killing Claire, of--" He put his finger against her lips.
"Claire was an extremely bright woman. Like Theresa, she had an uncanny feel for the market. If she'd only held in the urge to get quick money I have no doubt she'd be a rich woman today."
Elizabeth let her head fall onto his shoulder. She knew he was right. Claire had so much going for her if she'd only channeled her energies in the right direction, but she was always for the here and now, living from day to day, never thinking of the future or whom she might hurt. Elizabeth could only say she'd protected her like a mother. She had given her a huge chunk of her life after their parents died. She supposed the need to use opportunity when it presented itself was Claire's method of survival. When it was no longer necessary, Claire couldn't stop.
"James?"
He drew her closer and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Didn't you think I could have understood this three years ago? Is that why you protected me?"
"You didn't mention the files. The police never came with them. I thought Claire had lied about them too. She'd showed me a copy of the computer transfers, but if I had to I could have explained them. If she didn't really have any records everything would be fine for me, but you."
"Why me?"
"You were finally getting somewhere with Invitation to Love. The FBI or the secret service would certainly investigate you, Claire and me. If they found anything illegal there was no way you'd get the contracts you've secured."
"Detective Robinson had quite a lengthy file on Claire. I'm sure the FBI must have uncovered the same information."
"Probably, but Claire had never been arrested or convicted of anything. She'd had a string of affairs, but that's no crime. Once the SEC said I had done nothing wrong, you were in the clear."
Elizabeth lifted her head and leaned back to look at him. "I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry Claire put you through this."
"It's over now," he said. "She took your love of Christmas away and because of her it's been restored. Am I right?"
Elizabeth stared at the tree they'd decorated. She thought about the black Santa she'd bought in Georgetown. A wide smile split her face. "I think so."
With one finger James pulled her head back so she looked at him. His mouth touched hers and fire raged through her with the instance of a flash.
"There's one more thing," Elizabeth said before she lost all coherency.
"What's that?" James voice was hoarse.
Elizabeth moved out of his arms. She went to the papers and reached for the envelope on the top of the pile. She handed it to him.
James opened it and drew out the single piece of paper. "A check?"
Elizabeth stood before the fireplace. The heat behind her warmed her back. "Claire stole your money. You mortgaged your house to repay it."
"Elizabeth," he chuckled. "You're as honest as Claire was dishonest." Coming to her, he gathered her close and kissed her quickly. Then he stepped back and tore the check in half, dropping the pieces on the low table behind him.
"Why did you do that?"
"The money has already been repaid, Elizabeth. Theresa found the account and had it closed. The money was sent to a bank in the Cayman Islands, just as Claire had intended it but to a different account. Two years ago, when there was no threat, the account was closed and the mortgage repaid." He took a step toward her. Elizabeth saw the passion in his eyes. "Thank you for...everything."
He bent toward her, but Elizabeth moved. "James," she fidgeted with her hands. "I wouldn't blame you if you walked out the door and never came back."
"He didn't say anything. Elizabeth fidgeted more. Her nerves stretched.
"We haven't been very kind to you, Claire and I."
"Elizabeth," James smiled at her. "I left you once. For three miserable years I regretted it. Nothing, not even Claire, will drive me away again."
He stared at her for a moment. Elizabeth had never been more in love with anyone than she was at this moment. His hands slipped around her waist and pulled her toward him. The contact of body to body was electrifying. Her soft breast flattened against his chest as his mouth dropped to her left ear. Shimmers ran through her. Then his lips found hers. Elizabeth went easily into his arms. As James imprisoned her against him, she'd never felt more free. Suddenly there was no ghost between them, no cloud shadowing their love.
Elizabeth's mouth opened at his insistence. His tongue swept inside. Sensation made her weak
as it spiraled through her. She arched toward him, clinging as the passion between them became tangible, fierce. James's hands roamed down her back, over her buttocks, and up again. The warmth of the fire behind her added to the fuel his hands made. Her stomach tightened as a gnawing hunger seized her.
"James," she moaned against his mouth.
"I know," he whispered. He turned her toward the bedroom.
"Here," Elizabeth said. "Before the fire."
With his arm around her waist, he pulled her against him. James stood next to her. The glow from the fire highlighted her short hair. He lifted the hem of angora sweater she wore. Quickly he pulled it over her head, grabbing her hands he ran his fingers down her arms. She shuddered under his touch. The sweater dropped to the floor. Her golden skin sent thrills through him each time he saw the smooth even tones that ran from her neck to her toes. He kissed her shoulders, listening to the soft gasps that came from her throat.
Unhooking her bra, the heaviness of her breasts spilled into his hands. Heat pooled in his groin and he felt himself grow hard against his pants. His hands caressed her. Breath caught in her throat. Rubbing his thumbs across berry colored peaks, he felt them pebble against his fingertips.
Elizabeth pushed the coat from his shoulders and undid the buttons on his shirt. She pressed her face against his skin. Heat shot through him as her hands spread over his chest and around his torso. He pushed her head back and kissed her. The kiss was long, slow and as hot as a summer in Washington. Candle wax could melt on the sidewalk and he was dissolving into her, losing the point where one body ended and another began.
They finished undressing as slow as they could manage which was with the speed of a quick-draw western hero bringing down his prey. James settled her to the floor and joined her there. He gathered her close to him, his hands stroking her back. Her lips brush his chest, her tongue tasting, lathing his nipples sending rapturous sensations through him. She arched toward him, her slender legs tangling with his. His skin was on fire and the tightening coil in his belly was about to reach its breaking point. Rolling Elizabeth onto her back, he lifted himself over her and sought the center of her core. The primal dance between them was wild, uncontrollable; a joining so singularly distinctive, no other couple in history could have ever experienced it in quite the same way. Then a soul shattering climax took them over the edge and they collapsed against each other in unbridled release.
***
Elizabeth stirred as James lifted her. Her body was cold since he'd moved her from the fire and his body. She curled her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his. As he placed her on the bed she heard the clock in the foyer. It counted the hour. It was past midnight.
"It's Christmas Eve," she said. "Promise me something?"
He looked at her. In the half light of morning, she couldn't see his eyes. "Anything." A smile was in his voice.
"Can we do this every Christmas Eve?"
"I can only promise the next sixty or seventy Christmases. After that you're on your own."
Elizabeth ran her hand up his arm. His skin glowed in the back light coming from the living room. He was rock solid, dark as brandy and smooth as warm silk. "I love you, James Hill. I've been in love with you since we shared that first bowl of ice cream."
She sat up, hugging him too her; loving the feel of his skin.
"I love you too, Elizabeth; since the fifth grade when you had thick braids." His hand brushed through her hair.
"Even through all the mess Claire created, I knew somehow we'd live our lives together."
"That sounds an awful lot like a proposal, Elizabeth." James pressed his mouth against her. "Are you asking me to marry you?" Each word was uttered between kisses.
"You asked me the last time," she said, when his mouth lifted a moment. "I thought it was my turn."
She gasped as James's hands came around her. His thumbs drew circles along the sides of her breasts. Her blood boiled. Her head fell back, thrusting her breasts into his chest. God she felt good. He made her feel like this.
"Are you going to answer my question?" She could hardly speak for the sensations that rioted through her. His hands were heating her -- overheating her. In a moment, she was going to dissolve into a pool of chocolate.
"Yes, I'll marry you." James's mouth covered hers.
He pushed her back onto the bed and stretched his length over her. Then he began a long, slow mapping of her body. Elizabeth reached meltdown as James joined his body to hers. The invasion was wanted, needed. She didn't think she could survive without it. She closed around him, drawing him into her. The rhythmic love-dance began. Movement, as old as time, seized her. Together they waltzed, tangoed, jitterbugged and broke into a slow cha-cha. Elizabeth screamed at the pleasure that filled her. The kind of pleasure she only experienced with James. Her breath came hard, her heart hammered in her ears. James kissed her eyes and cheeks, rolling on his side and taking her with him, keeping them pulling joined.
Elizabeth's legs straddled him. Her insides were so full she thought she'd explode in the aftermath of their lovemaking. God, she felt lucky. She'd been given a precious second chance with the man I love. She'll never know what forces made her pull James's address by mistake eleven days ago, but she'd gave her thanks that she had done it and it had led her here, wrapped in his arms, happier than she's ever been.
For three years, he'd filled her dreams. Even her subconscious knew she wanted only him. Now he was real. Her imagination didn't have to conjure him up. He was here and they'd be together from now on.
"I love you, James," she told him.
"Shh," he whispered. "I thought I could wait until tomorrow, but it's already tomorrow."
He slipped off the bed.
"Where are you going?" Elizabeth sat up, grabbing his hand.
"I'll be right back." He kissed the back of her hand and dropped it.
Elizabeth pulled the sheet over her. The morning sun had begun to rise behind the Capitol Building. She stared at the cracked gold horizon. James came back. She watched his sure gait and he walked naked across the room. He had a great body and no need to feel self conscious about it. He sat on the bed and switched the lamp on. Elizabeth blinked at the sudden brightness.
"Merry Christmas," he said, offering her a small square box wrapped in colored paper and completely covered by a red ribbon.
The urge to rip the paper away and discover the contents was overwhelming, but she held it back. "Shouldn't we wait until Christmas?"
"I never could wait," he said. "It's why I wait until the end of the shopping season to buy gifts." He paused, pushing the box closer to her. "Go on, open it."
Elizabeth sat up in bed, trying to keep the sheet above her breasts. She pulled the ribbon free and used her fingernail to slit the paper. The box came from the jewelry store where they'd bought his mother's statue. Slowly Elizabeth opened the box. Inside was a small velvet ring box. She pulled it out as if it held the rarest jewel on earth. Lifting the top, she gasped. It was the ring. The stepping stones to the altar.
"How?" her voice was a hoarse whisper. "When?"
James took the box and pulled the ring out. "I went back the next morning and bought it." He lifted her left hand and slipped the ring over the knuckle of her third finger, left hand. The steps moved. They skittered around in a full arc then back again like the swinging of pendulum. Each layer rotated separately giving the effect of constant and never-ending movement.
"James, it's beautiful." The sheet slipped as she hugged him. She extended her hand over his shoulder, admiring the ring and the show it presented.
"There's a story behind it," he said.
Elizabeth pushed him back. Her eyebrows rose. "Another Christmas story?"
"This one is a marriage story." He climbed into bed next to her and pulled the sheet over them both. Holding her hand, he began, "The bottom two circles represent man and woman."
"Which one is man and which one is woman?" She looked at her finger, trying hard n
ot to break into laughter.
James grinned and ignored her. "They actually represent man's or woman's search for their ideal mate. Each stone indicates the many seeds and many shores that life touches in its search. They glitter, sometimes blinding the owner."
"To the right man," she offered.
"Or the right woman." He took her hand. He tapped the top circle. "This step is the promise. The commitment that each makes to the other. These stones are angled upward. Light reflects off them creating a circle that encompasses the top stone, which is the joining of the two lives, forever, unending."
Tears misted in Elizabeth's eyes when he finished speaking. All joking and playfulness left her as he spoke. It was the most beautiful story she'd ever heard and one she'd vow to keep.
"James." Emotion filled her heart and her voice. "I promise to stand within the never-ending light, to join with you forever, to pledge my unending love as long as night blends into day and day blends into night."
Chapter 10
Elizabeth positively glowed. She hadn't been this happy in years. She looked at the glittering ring on her left hand. She remembered her pledge to James and his to her. The diamond was only a symbol, but it was enduring, as enduring as their love. The geometric circles twisted back and forth with each movement of her hand. She knew she'd never look at it without thinking of the story James had told her.
Finally, the weight she'd carried so long regarding Claire and James was gone. He stood next to her, his arm around her waist, as he greeted his guests. He introduced everyone to her as if she held a place of honor.
Crowds formed in every room. Music played through the sound system. In the great-room couples danced on the temporary dance floor. Bursts of laughter came from the living room as someone said something funny. She could hear the faint sound of a Christmas carol from the direction of the music room. A couple sat on the fifth rung of the steps leading up to the bedrooms, engrossed only in each other.
Elizabeth knew how they felt. It's how she felt about James. Two day ago, on the anniversary of his Claire's accident, they had resolved their differences and James had made love to her through the night. Her stomach contracted, sensation pooled in her body at the memory. She smiled up at him and he kissed her on the cheek. Elizabeth directed her thoughts away from last night.
One Christmas Night (Capitol Chronicles Book 6) Page 10
