Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  As she looked at him now, she saw that same sadness suffusing his features. She said, “So what did you do?”

  “I went upstairs to find her.”

  “What did you do?” The pitch of her voice rose a notch.

  He didn’t answer.

  “What happened?”

  “I held her. She cried for a long time in my arms.”

  Stacey swallowed hard. He’d held her mother. On her parents’ bed. “And? Did my father come home and find you? Is that what happened? And he got the wrong idea?”

  The look on Cord’s face knotted her stomach. “Your father did come back. But he got the right idea.”

  Every nerve in Stacey’s body tingled. Her skin got clammy and her mouth went dry. She inched back on the sofa. “The right idea? Surely you don’t mean...you and my mother didn’t...”

  In a flash, so quickly that it caught her off guard, Cord flew across the room, knelt before her and took her hands in his. He rubbed them, almost unconsciously. “Yes, Stacey, we did. But it wasn’t what it seems. It was for comfort. For solace. Both our worlds had fallen apart. We...needed each other. It was only once, between two desperate people.”

  Her chest tightened as she peered into the face of the man she loved.

  Of the man who had slept with her mother.

  “Y-you slept with my mother? You made love with my mother?”

  Again his eyes glistened. “Yes, Stacey, I did.”

  She felt the bile rise in her throat. She clamped down on the images that assaulted her—images of Cord, with her mother. Her stomach churning, she bit her lip until it hurt. “No! No! I won’t believe this. It can’t be true.”

  “It is.”

  “No, please, say it isn’t true.”

  “I’m sorry, Stace.”

  “Oh, God, it’s so...obscene.”

  “Sweetheart, it wasn’t like that.”

  Something clutched her insides. She felt dizzy and spots swam before her eyes. She asked, “Were you in love with her?”

  “I loved her. As a friend. As a person who cared about me, helped me at a time when I had nothing else. And she loved me the same way.”

  “But you had sex with her?” The images came again. This time more vivid, more real.

  “It’s complicated. It was born out of desperation, not passion.”

  Stacey withdrew her hands from his and sank into the cushions, taking in deep, steadying breaths. I need to handle this like an adult, she told herself. I need to handle this, well.

  But her mother? And Cord? His words came back to her. Your mother was only human... after she told him about overhearing her grandmother and her father arguing.

  She raised her hands to her mouth as she felt the tears fill her eyes. The jumbled pieces fused together in her mind, completing the macabre puzzle. “You were the one. You were the one my father found her with.”

  Cord pulled her hands from her mouth and held them in his again. “I was the only one your mother ever did this with. Afterward, she told me it had never happened before, had never even occurred to her to do something like this. That she loved Gifford so much. I know that was true.”

  He seemed to think his words would make it easier. Stacey wished it had been a hundred other men—just not the one man in this world she loved. Oh, God, he’d touched her mother the way he’d touched her. The awful images kept coming and she couldn’t stop them.

  Control it, Stacey. Be mature about this.

  But she couldn’t. Searching his moist blue eyes for something that would make the truth less painful, she asked, “How...how could you let anything happen between us? You knew right from the beginning what your history was with my family. But you let it happen between us. You let it. How could you do that?”

  “I was wrong.”

  His image wavered through her tears. Her relationship with Cord suddenly seemed sordid. What had been the most beautiful experience of her life had turned seedy. “Unless—oh, God, tell me it isn’t true. It wasn’t some kinky thing for you, was it? Screw the mother, then the daughter? To make some grotesque comparison.”

  “No! Stacey, no, please. It was never that.”

  She shrank from him, pulled away her hands and closed her eyes to shut him out.

  “Stace, please, think back on our time together. I couldn’t have faked that. It was all real. I love you.”

  More images cascaded over her...his first kiss...the gentle yet sexy tug of his mouth on her breast...how he’d touched her in places she didn’t even know men and women touched.

  “Stacey—you said...you promised...please, tell me you believe my love was real.’’

  She studied his face, searching for the man who had been her tender lover. “I want to believe it, I said I would. It’s just that...”

  And then she began to weep. Unable to stop the flow, not even wanting to, she let the tears come. He sat back on the couch, drew her to him and held her. “Go ahead, sweetheart, let it out. It’s worth crying over.”

  She did. And she let Cord—the man who had caused the pain—hold her the entire time. With no pride, she gripped his shirt and allowed comfort to come from the man who had torn her world apart with just a few words.

  When she finally quieted, Cord felt the tension in her body ease slightly. He scrambled for words to diminish her pain, to dilute the agony that would come when she had time to internalize all this. “There’s something more you should know, Stace. The reason your father came back that day was to work things out with Helene. He’d canceled his trip. He’d come to tell her he was sorry.”

  “And he found you.”

  Cord nodded, conjuring the stricken face of Clifford Webb when he’d walked into the bedroom. It was a vision Cord would never forget as long as he lived. And now, the same look of disbelief and hurt was etched on Stacey’s lovely face.

  She drew away from him, and he guessed the reminder of her father’s pain made her unable to touch the man who’d caused it. She stood shakily, moved to the chair, leaned against it and wrapped her arms around her waist. “What did my father do?”

  “He exploded. I don’t know exactly what he said to your mother, because I got dressed and went downstairs.” Cord watched her face as he told her the rest, the sadness in those chestnut eyes searing his soul. “He came down a few minutes later. We talked and I left.”

  “You got dressed? Oh, God.” She closed her eyes briefly, then asked, “Did you see her again?”

  Cord shook his head. “She died that night. You’ll need to ask your father about what happened between them. He’ll want to tell you that part. Just know that he was young, and shocked, and anything he did was out of anger, justifiable anger.”

  “Now it all makes sense...those horrible dreams were flashbacks to what really happened.” She stared over his shoulder as she recited a litany of memories. “Ana brought me back, and my mother had her bags packed. She and my father were fighting. He told her to get out. I begged her not to go. But he made her leave.” Stacey’s hoarse voice stung his conscience. “Then she cracked up the car.” She turned to face Cord, her breath hitching, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “My father was responsible for her death.”

  Rising from the couch, Cord crossed to her. He grasped her arms and forced her to look at him. “It was a knee-jerk reaction. He was in shock. He didn’t know the situation. Look at it from his viewpoint. Stacey, don’t judge him too harshly.”

  “Too harshly?” She threw off his touch and stepped back from him. “And that wasn’t all he did, was it? He knew when he hired you to be my bodyguard... my father was a part of this charade.”

  “Stacey, listen, neither one of us wanted me back in your lives. But we were trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me?” The added blow of her father’s deceit, of his betrayal, broke the last of her restraint. She began to pace. “ Protect me? Do you realize what you two let happen? You made love to me when you knew you’d slept with my mother. And my father...he knew, too. He saw us toge
ther in the kitchen that morning and he still never told me the truth.”

  “Stacey, that was the hardest thing he ever did.”

  She continued pacing, as if she hadn’t heard Cord. Her hurt and anger seemed to escalate with each step. “He let you back into our lives. He let you be around me.”

  “Please. Give your father a chance to explain.”

  Stopping suddenly, she rounded on him. “No. I don’t want any explanation from him. And I don’t want any more from you.”

  “Stacey, listen—”

  “No. I’m done listening. I want to go...anywhere.” She looked around, almost wildly. “Just get me out of here. Away from you. Away from this whole ugly mess.”

  * * *

  FROM THE DOORWAY of his library, Gifford watched Stacey and Cord walk into the foyer. He stood perfectly still, trying to calm his churning stomach. Their stiff carriage and drawn faces testified to the emotional ravishment that had taken its toll on both of them. Stacey was several feet ahead of Cord, silently proclaiming her feelings.

  Not noticing Gifford, Cord caught up to Stacey by the staircase and grabbed her arm. She shrugged off his hand, but faced him from the first step. “What?” she asked.

  “Just remember your promise. Don’t do anything foolish, to endanger yourself.”

  His daughter’s usually mischievous face scowled. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not some child that’s going to risk her safety because she’s upset.”

  Gifford shifted uneasily, and the action snagged Stacey’s attention. She pierced him with stricken eyes. Her gaze locked with his for a minute, then she turned to Cord. “Because of what both of you did, I grew up without my mother, and, contrary to what both of you may think, I’ve learned to depend on myself more than most women. I won’t give the stalker an opportunity to get at me just because the two of you aren’t the men I thought you were.”

  Gifford wasn’t surprised at her words, but he hadn’t let himself speculate how much it would hurt. Bracing his arm on the doorway, he jammed one hand into his pocket and fisted it. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Yeah, Dad, so am I.” She stared at him as if he was a stranger, turned and took the stairs two at a time.

  His heart racing, Gifford called after her, “Stacey, can we talk about this?”

  She stopped halfway up and faced him. “Not right now. I’m feeling too raw.” Even from a distance, he could see her lips quiver and her eyes fill. His daughter was on the brink of losing control, and he couldn’t help her this time. Would she ever allow him close again? She pivoted, and hiked up the rest of the steps. The closing of her door echoed ominously through the foyer.

  Gifford looked to Cord, who’d sagged against the banister. “Will you come in and tell me what happened, McKay?”

  Nodding, Cord followed him into the library. Gifford noticed the slight tremble in his own hands as he poured generous amounts of Scotch for both of them. He gave one glass to Cord, who took it, sank onto a wing chair and gulped the liquor.

  “What happened?”

  Quickly, as if each word caused him pain, Cord told Gifford what he’d said to Stacey, and her reaction. “She’s hurt, and disgusted.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect the last. I didn’t know that she’d feel so...repulsed by me, by the thought of her and me together.” Gifford saw moisture gather in the younger man’s eyes. “I can take everything else. I expected her to hate me, to end our relationship, but this...I’m not sure I can handle this.” He set down his drink, leaned over and buried his face in his hands.

  Gifford watched Cord McKay with a deep sense of guilt. He’d blamed and punished the boy years ago, and now he was watching the man suffer because Gifford had insisted Cord put his life on the line for Stacey. Crossing to him, Gifford placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cord. For now, and for eighteen years ago.” He squeezed gently. “We’ve both wronged Stacey, but your actions were unselfish. You tried to avoid getting involved with us. I pushed it because I was afraid for her life. But I should have found an alternative. I should have foreseen this happening. I was wrong. Again.”

  Cord’s shoulders shook, and Gifford kept his hand where it was, trying to comfort the younger man. He closed his eyes to block out the evidence of the pain he’d caused.

  Two hours later, Gifford went in search of Stacey. He and Cord had talked for a while after Cord had composed himself. Then Cord had gone to take a shower and was in the spare room. Gifford waited as long as he could, but finally gave in to the need to see his daughter. When she wasn’t in her bedroom, he searched the house. He found her in the workout room, pedaling the exercise bicycle fast enough to fly. “Can we talk, Stacey?”

  She kept pedaling. “I don’t think it’s a good time to do that.” Her words were low and throaty. She’d obviously been crying.

  “Would you just listen to me then?”

  She nodded but didn’t get off the bike. He came into the room and stood before her. Her flushed face accented her drawn lips and hollow eyes. Their rich brown was ringed with red, and her eyelids were puffy.

  “I want you to know that I take full responsibility for your mother’s death.”

  Stacey stiffened and stopped pedaling. Her knuckles whitened on, the handlebars.

  “I was wrong in two ways,” he went on. “I left her alone too much, and I was insensitive to her needs.” He swallowed hard, the confession as painful as picking glass slivers out of skin. “She tried to tell me, but I was too ambitious and too foolish.”

  Stacey continued to stare at him. Her eyes narrowed as if she were seeing him for the first time. In a way, she was. As she’d said earlier, he wasn’t the man she thought he was. The awareness cut deep.

  “After I found them together, I kicked her out, without letting her explain.” He coughed. “But she did explain. She left me a note telling me how it really was between her and McKay.”

  Stacey’s eyes darkened; she frowned as she absorbed the new piece of information.

  “But it was too late by then,” Gifford said. “I didn’t get a second chance. She’d smashed up the car. She died because of my self-righteous indignation.”

  Gifford watched his daughter’s face crumple, watched her will back tears.

  “I blamed Cord before, but I won’t do it again. I was the adult in this situation. So was Helene. McKay was just a kid. When I think of how I forced him out of town, away from his family...”

  “You what?”

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  Stacey shook her head.

  Ah, he’d misjudged the man so badly . “I told him to leave Canfield or I’d ruin his family. What I did was inexcusable. I know it just adds another layer to my selfishness. But you have to know the extent of my sins.”

  Stacey got off the bike and wiped the sweat from her face. “Why didn’t Cord tell me this?”

  “I think we’ve both underestimated his nobility.”

  She shook her head, every muscle exposed in her spandex suit tightening. “He let me fall in love with him, knowing the connection he had with Helene. You did the same thing. Why?”

  Staring at Stacey, Gifford answered the only way he could. Honestly. “I would have done anything to keep you safe. Your life is more important to me than your love. I know you hate me now because of what I did to your mother. But I was trying to protect you. That’s why I brought Cord back into our lives. It may have been an error in judgment, but at least tell me you understand why I did it.”

  Stacey didn’t say anything for a minute, staring silently at him. Then she said, “I’m feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now.” She bit her lip and looked at him the way she used to when she was a child and afraid of the night. “But I don’t hate you, Dad. I never could.”

  Closing his eyes, he silently thanked God for generosity he didn’t deserve. Then, in a miraculous show of selflessness, his daughter gave him exactly what he needed. She stepped forward and hugged him.

&nbs
p; Just like her mother. Helene would have been so proud of her.

  * * *

  LIKE A ZOMBIE, Stacey climbed the back staircase, passed slowly down the hall and through the door to her room. The workout hadn’t helped—it had just made her more edgy, sent more adrenaline pumping through her. Scanning the familiar decor, Stacey shook her head. Whereas before, this room had echoed the intimacy of her lovemaking with Cord, now regret and emptiness bounced in vibrant rhythms around her.

  Before the reminder could smother her, Lauren came from the sitting room where she’d been resting.

  “There you are,” Lauren said in her soft alto voice. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought I heard you come in earlier.”

  Stacey felt the tears rise again as she looked at her best friend.

  “Stacey? What’s wrong?”

  Reining in her emotions, Stacey sank onto the long green chaise that was adjacent to the front windows. “Cord knew my mother, Lauren.” She laughed, but even to her own ears the sound was shrill. “In the biblical sense.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lauren came and sat at the end of the chaise, her cast bumping gently against Stacey’s leg. Her eyes were wide with concern.

  “He worked here when he was eighteen. He was the one my father found with my mother the night she died.”

  “What?” Lauren’s usually pale complexion mottled.

  “He slept with my mother.”

  “Oh, my God, poor Gifford.”

  A chill skittered through Stacey as she stared at her friend. She knew Lauren loved her father, had always seen him as a surrogate parent, but she’d expected her friend’s sympathy to be for her.

  As if she’d read Stacey’s mind, Lauren reached out and took her hand. “And poor you. Oh, Stacey, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too. It’s so unreal.” Stacey lay back against the pillows. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “What did your father say?”

  Briefly, Stacey recounted the story.

  Lauren’s grip tightened on Stacey’s hand. “How could she have done that to him? Betrayed him like that? He’s so kind, so giving, so virile. She must have been a horrible woman.”