The Tattered Bride

by Peri Elizabeth Scott

  Redirecting her favorite food had taken a quick call, and he’d fondly imagined her calling him and inviting him to share. Instead, another really big security guy had schlepped the box out to a cab after an interminable wait. God, he was freezing out here. Maybe renting a limo would have been a better idea, because his thin California blood wasn’t up to fall weather in Boston.

  He made a careful left turn in deference to his ribs and saw her. A tall, thin figure dressed entirely in black. She several hundred yards away, but he knew her. His entire body knew her, his heart picking up the pace and his cock hardening.

  Victoria just stood there, motionless, up against the building to the side of the door. He could reach her in moments. And if the big guy came out to whale on him, maybe she’d take pity.

  His gait impaired by the soreness of his injuries, he nevertheless made steady progress across the street. The narrow corridor slowed the speed of the traffic as he wove his way to her. She saw him midway across, and stiffened, and then smiled. He followed that beacon, forced to dodge a couple of pedestrians who snarled his way in Boston’s infamous accent, and then he was there. Right in front of her. Staring into her beautiful, blue eyes. Worry and longing warred with a hint of fear and his heart fucking well broke.

  Carefully, he set his hands on either side of her face, cradling her delicate skull. The short, silky strands of her hair brushed against his skin. “Baby. I’m so sorry. Can we talk?”

  “There’s a coffee shop across the street.” She turned her cheek into his palm.

  He longed for privacy but understood her caution. If he failed her again, she could flee and pull up the drawbridge. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was insane, that after over a month of excoriating pain, held at bay only when she was able to immerse herself in work—and sometimes not even then—that she was face to face with the man who’d caused it. His beloved features were the same, albeit with a few more lines and a haunted look about his eyes. His dark hair was still well cut and drew attention to the beautiful shape of his head.

  He seemed thinner, though the jacket masked his torso. She feasted her eyes without pause, knowing that the pending conversation could go either way, and she wanted one last look—in case.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Gordon—the security guard, said…”

  “I’m fine.” He devoured her with his stare. “You look beautiful, baby.”

  She didn’t demur. He’d always found her so, regardless of whether she’d come in from the garden a sweaty mess with dirt smudging her face or dressed to the nines with an expert application of makeup. Apparently, the “waif without makeup look” and her lack of professional attire was equally appealing. If she could believe him. If everything that took place between them before, was true.

  “I missed you,” he said. “Victoria, I love you so much.”

  She wanted to reply, badly, but fear paralyzed her vocal chords. Venturing a trembling smile, she let him take her hand. Her scalp still tingled from his gentle, yet possessive touch.

  “Will you let me explain?”

  “I’ll listen.”

  “That’s all I can ask, baby. I know I shattered you. I didn’t have time to think, not even to come up with an excuse. And I didn’t want to make something up, to lie to you. So I told you we couldn’t get married.”

  “I thought it was about me.” She had to say it. It felt as though she’d just ripped a flak jacket off and painted a target right on her chest, over her heart, but she had to take the risk with Logan. Because he knew he’d already taken a vital shot, and if he administered the coup de grace then so be it. Something had to give.

  Squeezing her hand, he leaned closer, fixing her with his stare. She was mesmerized, as always by the tawny shade, and breathed in his familiar scent. Bergamot with earthier notes immersed her.

  “There’s nothing about you I don’t want, Victoria, and everything I do. Know that. What I’ve wanted since our first date. Hell, probably since I laid eyes on you, but for sure once I got to know you. But … it was about you, in part. That old bastard.”

  “What?” It stung and nearly negated the preceding heartfelt words.

  Logan rushed ahead, feeling her recoil. “My father wanted to choose my wife, to control me as he controls most everything else in his life. With the exception of my mother. And of late, my siblings.”

  “And he didn’t see me as suitable.”

  “Of course not. You’re too good for the likes of him. You have class, you’re kind, you tell the truth, your family members care about one another, support each other, and you don’t care about massive amounts of money.”

  Reeling, she blinked at him. “Wow.”

  “Exactly. He wanted someone like him, someone with no principles, no scruples, someone he could manipulate with money and power, seeing as he discovered I’m not amenable. My brother wants nothing to do with him—or the business—and my sisters had been letting me vote their stock now they’ve found the men of their dreams.”

  “But I signed off…”

  “Not enough. Your loyalty was to me. The old man had someone lined up who would look to him.”

  “I saw her.”

  “You did? I didn’t think you knew Lexie.”

  Who was Lexie? Probably another blonde with big boobs. “I meant Adrienne.”

  A hint of guilt flashed through his eyes and she tried to pull away. He spoke quickly. “If my father handpicked Adrienne, he badly misjudged. She chose sides early. I’ll admit I found her assistance invaluable, and she’ll be part of the company, but I’m not at all interested in her. If that’s what you’re thinking. She thought differently, but I corrected her assumption. There’s only one woman in my life, if she’ll have me.”

  She wanted him. Thinking that she’d lost him… “What did your father do, Logan?”

  His eyes narrowed in anger and she felt the rage simmering in his tense form. “He made deals. With everyone cut from the same cloth as him. The couple of board members who saw a payout to their benefit. Other companies who’d like to absorb our subsidiaries, primarily overseas. Certain politicians. If I hadn’t stopped the wedding, he’d have put his plan in motion right then and there, and Doherty Holdings would have collapsed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. My father would be rolling in the proceeds as well as those board members. The stockholders would have been shafted, pennies on the dollar, and our staff, the workers, unemployed. No warning, no way to prepare.”

  “That’s pure evil,” she breathed, once it all sank in. “All because he didn’t want you to marry me?”

  “He’s insane—or something close to it. Your brother-in-law suspects some form of mental illness, but I think it’s just him. The way he is. As his youngest and the only one involved in the company, he was going to rule me by any means possible.”

  “And you couldn’t share that with me?” She couldn’t help but remember that devastating confrontation in the small room in the church.

  “He’d have been able to tell, Victoria. He’d have put things into motion, knowing we’d simply postpone the wedding until I found a way around him. There’s no way you could have hidden it from him, not with the way you wear your emotions on your face. That’s why he wanted it called off there. I hated what I did, and if it was just about me, I wouldn’t have hurt you like that. There wasn’t an alternative. He was convinced—how could he not be after what I did—and it gave me the opportunity to dismantle his arrangements. It took time—”

  He pleaded with his eyes for her to understand, but then surely he’d known she would. Logan knew her and she’d have called off the wedding herself if she’d known what old man Doherty had planned for all those people. She thought hateful things about the man and blessed the fact Delores was Logan’s mother.

  “It’s like one of those medieval stories with the evil king and the hapless prince.”

  Logan laughed, easing some of the strain on his face, and it resona
ted deep in her belly. She’d lived without that sound for over a month. “Hapless?”

  “I meant handsome.”

  “I felt hapless. Helpless. I couldn’t stand what I did to you.”

  For an instant, the enormity of the situation washed over her and she couldn’t breathe.

  “Baby?” Logan squeezed her hand harder.

  “What can I get you?” A server took a position by their table.

  “She’ll have hot chocolate. We both will. And a couple of scones. Fruit scones.”

  “Maybe I wanted coffee.” She sucked in air and pushed the horrible memory away as she teased him, trying to be normal.

  “You look as though a stiff breeze would blow you away. If you’ll take me back, I’m going to take care of you.”

  She’d thought she could never trust him again. “If … if I thought you’d ever do such a thing again, like at the church—”

  “Who would ever have thought it, Victoria? It’s nearly beyond belief. I can’t in my wildest imagination think of a time when I’d ever be in a position to do what I did. But regardless, it won’t matter how many others are involved, if anything like that should happen again. I’d—”

  “You’d do the same thing. Because I’d never forgive you if you didn’t.”

  “Can you forgive me now?”

  “I can and I do.” The relief made her lightheaded and she wanted to lay her head on the table. Was it that easy? “If I wasn’t such a damaged person, maybe I’d have listened before—”

  “Stop.” His adamant tone made her start and stare into his eyes. Eyes filled with compassion and understanding—and love. “I didn’t expect anything different, Victoria. How could you not draw the comparison between me and your father? You were damaged. Any kid would have been, and I get that you kind of went backward when reminded of that time.”

  “I went into a tailspin,” she whispered, and he blanched.

  “You love with that big heart of yours, and I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.”

  “Apology accepted.” Sincerity rang true in her voice. “We’re past it.”

  “Baby.” He put his other hand over their clasped ones, and something cool slipped onto her ring finger. “Your mother sent it to me. With a note. Apparently I was to fix things.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile before staring down at her ring. “Consider it fixed.”

  “Two hot chocolate, two scones. You didn’t say if you wanted them heated up, but the butter melts easier.”

  “Thank you.” Logan gave his polite smile that concealed his impatience and she hid hers as the server moved away.

  “Not the place for a romantic reconciliation,” she said, floating free from all the angst and turmoil.

  “No, but I missed breakfast staking out your place, and I about froze. So I’m having this scone.”

  “How long would you have waited out there?”

  “For as long as it took. Or until you called the cops. But I was thinking about renting a limo.”

  She laughed. “Stalking in style?”

  “Well, I wasn’t giving up. I figured if you kept seeing me and I sent you things it might jog your memory and soften you up. Give me a chance to tell you why.”

  All those roses, gone who knew where… “Did you think I’d forgotten?”

  “I know you, baby. You’d be doing your best to forget you even met me.”

  There wasn’t much to say to that so she sipped her drink and picked at her scone, giving the bulk of it to Logan. It wasn’t easy to eat one-handed, but she accomplished it, because he apparently wasn’t relinquishing her other one.

  “What now?” He peered at her over his cup. “Can we talk about what your plans are?”

  “Later. Right now I’m in dire need of a nap. I haven’t been sleeping well and I keep dreaming of some hapless—handsome—prince. You look tired as well.”

  Logan nearly dropped his cup in his haste to dig out his wallet. Pulling some bills free with two fingers, he let them flutter to the table. Tugging her to her feet, he drew her close and nuzzled her temple. “I’d say your place or mine, but I don’t actually have a place.”

  “What?” She led him toward the door. “Where did you stay last night?”

  “A loud, busy place called an emergency room.”

  She stuttered to a stop. “I thought you said you were okay!”

  “I am. Of course, I’m okay. You’re here.”

  She’d see about that when she got him home.

  Emilio puffed out his chest when he opened the door for them. Logan gave him a wary look before he squared his shoulders and escorted her inside.

  “This is Emilio, Logan. A friend. Emilio, my fiancé, Logan.”

  Brows nearly up in his hairline, the guard nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. You have a beautiful and wonderful woman in your care.”

  “I know it. I’ve always known it.”

  “Ah.” Emilio flashed her a smile. “The impossible has happened, Mizz Sparrow.”

  “It has.” She winked and Logan looked between them. She led the way to the elevator and they stepped inside.

  “What was that about?”

  “Emilio is a very wise man, Logan. We shared your thoughtful brunch, and he challenged me to step back and think on some things. It led to me standing outside of my building.”

  “Maybe Emilio would be interested in a job in a warmer climate.”

  “A full-time job, with benefits, and some time off to spend with his wife and sons.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “Even if he wants to stay here and freeze.”

  Logan took a glance around her living space as she removed her jacket. “I love what you’ve done with it.”

  His tone was wry, and she knew what he was seeing. A drab, impersonal place, nothing more than somewhere to sleep. She hadn’t even unpacked her few keepsakes. “Wait until you see the bed.”

  With a low sound deep in his chest, he escorted her across the room and into the bedroom. And then he blanked out everything but them.

  Drawing her close, he set his lips on hers and the sweetness of the hot chocolate melded with that which was uniquely Logan. Letting him in, he explored her mouth leisurely, but with an underlying sense of desperate need. She pressed her hips against him.

  “I’m savoring this,” he muttered and stole her breath, his big hands cupping her head again to hold her steady for the sensual assault.

  Lost in sensation, her tongue tangling with his, Victoria slipped her arms beneath his jacket and held him tight, her body awakening in remembrance.

  “Ow. Geez.” Logan stiffened and tore his mouth from hers.

  Her fingertips skimming the unfamiliar ridges along his back, she stepped away. “You’re injured! I hurt you. Oh God, Logan.” She’d been sidetracked by lust. Deftly unbuttoning his shirt, she was faced with yards of bandage wrap masking most of his muscled chest.

  “Just the one side, baby. Well, both, because my right kidney got in the way.”

  “Let me help you get your jacket off.” She eased it down his arms and tossed it on a chair, followed by his shirt. Tenderly drifting her hand over his ribs, she worried her bottom lip.

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine.” She worked the snap on his jeans free and pulled down the zipper, careful of the firm bulge behind it.

  “Uh, Victoria?” Logan was used to being in control in the bedroom, something she preferred, but she was on a mission for her wounded warrior.

  “Shush. Let me see.” As his jeans sagged to his knees, his black, silk boxers tented beneath her questing fingers, but she moved to study his back. The bandage covered the top of a livid bruise. “Holy crap, Logan. How much does that hurt?” She pressed her lips to the awful mark.

  “Not much. And it feels better when you do that.”

  “This?” She kissed it again and then traced her tongue around the edges.

  “That.” His graveled tone signaled his arousal, and she teased hi
m for another moment.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “Bruised kidney, same for the ribs. I’m a wuss, so I bandaged them. For support.”

  “You aren’t a wuss.” She found the tiny metal teeth of the clip securing the bandage and freed it, and then began to unwind the length of fabric. Uncovering the swollen, reddened section, she winced. “Oh, no.”

  “So I can’t belly laugh.” Logan stroked her hair.

  “What about the kidney?”

  “As long as I’m not, uh, showing blood—”

  “Blood!” They both winced at her shriek.

  “It’s okay, baby. It is. Although it’ll be a story to tell our grandchildren.”

  Worried, she studied his face but saw no overt concern. “You’ll take it easy. You need to heal up.”

  “I’d kinda hoped…” He motioned toward the bed.

  She set her lips and fit her hand around his erection. It pulsed beneath the silk, another familiar sensation. “Does he still… I mean, can you? With the kidney thing?”

  He yanked her against him, grinding his cock against her palm. “Does this feel like he can do it? Besides, I Googled it.”

  Mirth bubbled in her chest and she allowed it to escape. Logan joined her and then winced.

  She shook her head but noted his determination. Kneeling, she unlaced his shoes and eased them off. Working his socks from around his ankles, she slipped them over his toes. Logan had sexy, man toes she loved with a light sprinkling of hair over the knuckles. She loved every part of him. “Step out.”

  Obediently, he lifted first one foot, then the other, and she set his jeans aside. Glancing up, she marked his bemused stare. “What? I can’t take care of you?”

  His eyes lit up and he smiled. “I was thinking, seeing as you’re down there…”

  “Is standing or sitting easier?” She tried to sound stern when her fingers were itching to deal with his boxers.

  “I guess sitting. So not the way I envisioned this.”

  “In sickness and health, darling.” Pulling his underwear down, she pushed gently against his legs and he backed to the bed to sit, the black fabric pooling around his ankles.