by T. M. Cromer
“It was outlined in Grand-père’s will. That predates anything Josephine would’ve had drawn up.”
“I don’t want it, Marguerite. This place holds nothing but bad memories for me.”
“With Liz, you can make new ones,” she said softly. “You could have a half-dozen little ones running about.”
He strolled around the room, thinking about the possibilities, before focusing his attention on her. “And you? What would you do if that happened? Would you stay on?”
“Where else would I go.” She released a bitter little laugh. “Franco burned through all our funds. There is nothing left. We owe too many creditors.”
“I still find that difficult to believe. What of the mills or shops?”
“Sold or dismantled. And before you ask, the last of the farmland not entailed to the estate was sold off about ten or eleven years ago.”
“And Jean-Paul?” He mentioned the Champeau estate manager, hoping beyond hope Franco hadn’t sacked him.
“He passed away about two years ago.” She grimaced and waved a hand around, gesturing to the house. “This place needs a cash infusion, and someone with a strong business sense.”
“Can I access the records?”
“We can try.” She pivoted on her heel to go.
“Marguerite.”
She cast him a curious look over her shoulder.
“I want you to have this place.” When she frowned, he quickly added, “But only if you want it. I’m sure it’ll be a headache to manage, but if you’re willing, I’ll give you what you need to restore the place.”
A genuine smile lit her face. The first real emotion he’d witnessed in as long as he could remember. “I’d like that.”
“Do you know why mother never used her magic to restore this place?”
“I believe she didn’t want to give Franco any reason to sell off the antiques. If he believed everything was worthless, he’d leave the château intact.” She touched a hand to his arm. “Your mother was wily, Rafe. She knew how to manipulate. Even you.”
“Me?”
“You don’t think she knew that by sending Franco to kindle a romance with Liz, you would make your move? She knew you loved her and only needed to be prodded into action. That’s why she put the blood curse on you.”
He scrubbed his hands up and down his face. “I keep asking myself what kind of mother does that to her own son.”
“And what have you come up with?”
“Nothing. I don’t see how anyone would do something of that nature to their child.”
“She was never mother material, cousin. Josephine never had the capacity to love.”
“Was it because of Alastair and GiGi’s father, Preston II?”
“Perhaps. Their relationship was long before I came into the world. And while she never had nice things to say about the Thornes, I thought it was jealousy for their successes. She never spoke of her engagement to me.”
“Thank you for being forthcoming, cousin. Let’s take care of matters around here so I might put this all in the past.”
Chapter 29
Two days passed with minimal communication from Rafe. The first night he disappeared, it was roughly eleven hours before he finally texted Liz. The message had been straightforward and simple.
“I need to take care of a couple of important matters. I’ll be in touch in a few days. xo - Rafe.”
Of course, she’d been understanding. As the third day grew later and morning faded to afternoon, Liz grew annoyed by the continued silence. The damned man had contacted her more when they weren’t a couple than now when they were supposed to be in love. Ignoring her didn’t bode well for their future.
When she hadn’t heard from him by noon on the fourth day, she resigned herself to the fact he was no longer interested in her or deeper issues were at play. She prayed to the Goddess it was the deeper issues and tried to maintain a positive outlook. More than once, she reminded herself he was a stand-up kind of guy. It hadn’t helped.
Because Paris without Rafe was a major letdown, she checked out of her hotel to return home.
On the morning of the fifth day, she called for the third and final time only to get Rafe’s voicemail again. She didn’t bother to leave a message, because she wasn’t a complete idiot and knew how to take a hint.
How he could do this to her after proposing was beyond Liz’s scope of comprehension. The heartache this time around was worse than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. If she thought she’d been hurt four years ago, it was nothing compared to this utter devastation. It was tempered only by the slow, burning anger beginning to build.
On the sixth day, she aborted what was left of her vacation and returned to work.
Nash greeted her as Liz stepped into his office. “Welcome back. It’s been a madhouse here without you. I hope your time with Rafe was worth the stacks of paperwork on your desk,” he teased.
The humorous light left Nash’s eyes as he studied her face. Hiding from an empath was impossible, and Liz didn’t bother to try. He was most likely picking up on her self-loathing and crushing hurt.
“You and Rafe weren’t together all this time? Or did you break up in the last day or so?”
“He disappeared the day we revived Damian, and he hasn’t bothered to…” She swallowed. With a deep, fortifying breath, she continued, “… he hasn’t bothered to return my calls or texts after the first night.”
A dark frown tugged at Nash’s blonde brows. His confusion was understandable because they’d all trusted Rafe to be a good guy and not an asshole. When Nash would’ve spoken, Liz waved off any well-meaning advice. “Let’s move on to a different topic, shall we? Did you ever locate the missing artifacts?”
He was hesitant to speak, and she shot an exasperated glare his way.
“Yeah, um, Marguerite brought them all back two days ago,” he finally admitted.
“And?”
“She said Rafe found them in a hidden room of the château. He wanted to be sure they were returned to us asap.”
“Well, that’s a plus.”
“Liz—”
“Please don’t, Nash. I’m trying to control my anger, but if it’s too much for me to be around you like this, I can take off for a bit longer.”
They tabled any discussion of Rafe and moved on to current business affairs. Liz took a walk around the complex to check in on their staff and catalog any issues the employees may be dealing with. They all greeted her like a long-lost sister, and it took away a small measure of the sting from Rafe’s behavior.
As she was shutting down her computer for the day, a shipment of roses was delivered to her desk. For a moment, her heart stuttered in her chest at the stunning arrangement. Two-dozen blood-red roses with the tiniest buds of baby’s-breath she’d ever seen. She snatched up the card.
“Dearest Liz, Sabrina and I humbly request your presence for dinner tomorrow night at Ravenswood. - D.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she roughly swiped them away before they could fall. She refused to allow herself to give in to the disappointment riding her hard. How foolish to believe Rafe would go through the trouble when he couldn’t even manage a text.
Grabbing up her phone, she searched through her contacts until she found Damian’s number. Without a second thought, she shot him a text, accepting his invitation.
“Wonderful. No need for formal attire. My little beastie has requested burgers, fries, and milkshakes, so we’ve decided to make it a casual night.”
Liz smiled at the image of the stylish Damian in casual clothing. Another text dinged her phone.
“Sabrina would like to know if you would be so kind as to extend the invitation to Chloe?”
After she agreed, she signed off, caressed a velvety rose petal, and stuffed her electronics into her bag. The idea of going back to her place by herself caused her stomach to flip. A split second later, she was on a call with Piper, her closest cousin and best friend.
“He
y! I was just thinking about you,” Piper said. Genuine warmth flooded across the wire and almost sent Liz into a tailspin of tears.
“What are you doing tonight? Any plans?”
“Not a one. Josh canceled on me last minute. Again.”
“Does he take off after he tries to kiss you? Like he’s got somewhere more important to be?”
Piper laughed. “What the hell are you talking about, Liz?”
“Nothing.” Ugh! Everything reminded her of Rafe. She needed to get a grip. “What do you feel like for dinner?”
“Calabresi’s sounds good. It’s close to your place, right?”
The old ticker spasmed, and Liz wished she could rip her worthless heart right out of her chest. She infused cheer into her voice. “Yep!”
“Liz, you okay?” The heavy concern Piper expressed caused another pang. Apparently, Liz overdid it on the pep.
“I will be.” She glanced at her watch. “I can be there in about twenty. Does that work for you?”
Twenty-two minutes later, the two women were standing next to the hostess’s podium. “I suppose we should’ve called for a reservation,” Piper said in an aside to Liz.
Just as she would’ve responded, a deep, familiar voice drifted to her ears.
Rafe.
Liz pivoted in time to see him exiting the office with a short, stout man who could only be Gianni.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…
She had to walk into Rafe’s.
Quickly turning her back, she said, “Piper, do you mind if we go? Maybe order a pizza and grab some wine. It’s better if—”
“Qalbi.” The sinfully intimate pitch of his voice made her stomach hurt. She wanted to teleport the hell away as fast as she could, but she couldn’t expose what she was to so many non-magical patrons.
Piper’s golden-eyed gaze locked onto her face. “We can still go, cousin.”
Her use of the word “cousin” firmed Liz’s spine. She was a Thorne, dammit. And Thornes had inner cores of steel. Fixing a cold smile on her face, she turned to confront Rafe. She hadn’t expected to see the love radiating from his midnight eyes, and the deep adoration shining back at her gave her pause.
He lifted the bags in his arms. “I just arrived back in town an hour ago and had Gianni prepare a special meal for us.” Glancing between the two women, he said, “There’s more than enough, Piper, if you care to join us.”
Piper cleared her throat, and for that, Liz was ecstatic because she couldn’t have voiced a response to save her life. He disappeared for nearly a week and had the nerve to believe he could show up with a gourmet meal as if everything was still the same? Assuming she’d fall right in with his plans?
Fury exploded in her brain, and of its own volition, her fist flew out with the force of a jet-propelled rocket and impacted with his gut. The bags dropped to the floor, and Rafe bent double, coughing and gasping in an attempt to catch his breath.
“How about you shove that in your pipe and smoke it, you ass?” she snarled. Liz was halfway to her jeep when she realized she’d left Piper gaping in the restaurant foyer.
The rapid clicking of heels on cement came to her, and she exhaled her relief that Piper had the presence of mind to follow. Unfortunately, the second set of footsteps registered as she spun back to apologize to her cousin.
Liz couldn’t recall seeing Rafe as enraged as he was in that moment.
* * *
“Want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Rafe bit out.
“Not right now. Maybe I’ll text you in eleven hours or so and drop a cryptic message. Perhaps, after you call me once or twice with no response from me, you’ll figure it out.”
Understanding dawned, and his anger drained away. “You’re upset I didn’t touch base every day,” he concluded.
“I didn’t know if you were alive or dead, Rafe. I get one stinking message eleven hours after you disappear without a word then radio silence for the next five and a half days.”
“It didn’t occur to me you’d worry, qalbi.” And it honestly hadn’t. For the year he’d worked for Thorne Industries, he came and went with hardly a ripple. Communication was always sparse, and he had no reason to believe Liz would see this last trip of his any differently. Except she had, and he was an idiot.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered.
“How about I leave you two to sort this out,” Piper said in a gentle, soothing tone. “It sounds like you have a lot of catching up to do.”
“No. I don’t care to hear anything the King of Disappearing Acts has to say. Let’s go, Piper.”
“Commoro!” Rafe barked out in his panic.
He reached out an arm to support her when her upper body swayed precariously.
With a shriek of outrage, she shoved at his chest. “Did you just freeze me in place?”
A fiery red lit her irises, and Rafe knew he was about five seconds from being burned to a cinder like the time Damian had fried his ass in Nash’s office. “I panicked,” he admitted. “You were about to walk away—”
“You’d best remove that spell, or I’ll torch your ass. They’ll see you burning three counties away.”
The wind picked up around them, blowing her golden locks around her head. The trees bent, and a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. The resounding boom of thunder followed seconds later.
Rafe voiced his awe. “Goddess, you’re incredible.”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Piper said brightly. “Word to the wise, cousin, contain your power in public. You’re drawing a crowd.” An engaging grin took up nearly half her face. “Also, if a man risked life and limb to keep me at his side and tell me I’m incredible, I’d listen to what he has to say.”
With a wink and a wave, she sauntered to her vehicle.
When she opened the door to a nineteen-sixty-eight Ford Mustang GT390 fastback, Rafe lost his ability to speak.
“Now you’re going to stand there and drool over my cousin?”
“Not the woman. The car.”
The throaty sound of the engine roared to life, and Rafe never had such vehicle envy in all his life.
“Rafe.”
He snapped his head around to meet Liz’s narrowed-eyed gaze. Her growl rivaled that of the Mustang. She pointed down at her feet, then placed her fists on her hips.
The two of them were at a crossroads here. If he released her, she’d take off and never give him the time of day again. If he didn’t, he stood the chance of her turning him into a flaming pile of dog doo.
He crossed his arms and scratched the length of his jaw. “You’re going to have to promise to hear me out, qalbi.”
“I can promise I’ll murder you in your sleep if you don’t release me in two seconds.”
The urge to laugh overwhelmed him, and Rafe failed spectacularly to hold it back. He loved her feistiness. She, however, didn’t find the situation nearly as funny. In fact, retribution burned brightly in her eyes. As abruptly as his humor took hold, it dissipated.
Rafe snapped his fingers to release the magical hold. “For what it’s worth, I initially left to get my head on straight. My mother’s death… My reaction was worse than expected.”
She crossed her arms but remained where she was. A measure of her fury had melted away. “Why didn’t you return my calls, Rafe? Why ghost me as if I meant nothing to you?”
“Like I said, it never occurred to me that you’d be worried after my first text. But when Marguerite and I reworked the wards on the château, the magic short-circuited my phone. I figured I’d pick up another one when I returned home.” He continued in the face of her silence. “I travel for Thorne Industries constantly, Liz. You know I don’t always check-in, but I always return. I thought it was understood I would this time, too.”
Her full lip was caught between her white teeth, and Rafe figured she was chewing over a decision to forgive or not.
“I love you, qalbi. I believed we had an understanding. We com
mitted to building our lives together. I didn’t take that lightly.” He shifted closer and used the knuckle on his index finger to nudge her chin upwards. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And from here on out, I can assure you, I will never take off again without telling you where I’m going first. Should I fail to check-in at least twice a day, I give you permission to torch my ass, as you so dearly want to at the moment.”
Her lips compressed, and she closed her eyes. For a second, Rafe feared he’d crushed any affection she held for him. Then her eyes opened wide, and her love was shining bright and bold.
“Goddess, I feel like a fool. I’m so sorry, babe. My insecurities got the better of me. After everything… I suppose I thought you’d figure all this…” She gestured between them. “… was too much work.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I would’ve haunted the hallways at work, continuing to plague you and beg for your affections.” He rested his brow against hers. “Liz Thorne, would you care to have dinner with me tonight?”
“I would.”
Rafe shifted his head enough to claim her lips. The kisses started out as soft, lingering caresses but moved to a passionate embrace. The taste of her made him want to bundle her up and teleport home. He lifted his head to draw in a lungful of air. “It’s only been a week, but I missed this.”
“Me, too.”
The slight frown hadn’t lifted from Liz’s brow, and Rafe figured they should address whatever else was bothering her. “Qalbi, tell me the last of your concerns.”
“Why did you stay away so long?”
“The morning I left, you and your family were having a celebration of sorts. Not that I blame you. The Aether was alive, the bad guys conquered, and magic restored.” Attempting to find the right words, he looked off in the distance, not seeing any of the surrounding scenery. Finally, he settled on, “The gaiety was too much for me right then. As unfeeling as my mother was, she was all I had.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gone wherever you wanted. Helped you mourn.”
