by Cate Beauman
“Of course I’m going to say something. He left marks—”
“No,” she cut him off, her skin crawling as she looked at Eric again. If the incident was brought up, it would only complicate everything and keep her here longer. If there was even the remotest of chances she could be on the next flight home, that was all she cared about.
“Soph—”
She pulled away from him. “I want you to drop it.”
Jeremiah stepped out of Clyde’s office with the portly, fifty-something officer at his side, ending their conversation. “We’re ready for you.”
Sophie took a deep breath and walked in, taking one of the padded chairs in front of Clyde’s desk.
Stone sat in the seat next to her, snagging her hand, giving her a subtle nod.
She squeezed his fingers, grateful for his strength and support and his willingness to respect her wishes.
“Welcome home, Sophie,” Clyde said as he took his seat behind his desk, his gaze wandering over her and Stone’s clasped hands. “It sounds like we’ve got a bit of a situation we need to clear up.”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, remembering to look him in the eye instead of stare at her lap the way she wanted to. “I didn’t steal Eric’s money.”
“That’s what Attorney Trombley says.”
“That’s what I say. The money I left Maine with was from the inventory I sold during my last day in business at the mall. ”
Clyde nodded. “And that’s where the problem lies. According to the documents I’ve seen, Eric owns full partnership of Burke Jewelers.”
“Clyde,” Jeremiah addressed the officer, “Sophie didn’t take the funds from Burke Jewelers with malicious intent. She’s more than willing to return the full amount Mr. Winthrop feels is owed to him to end this matter.”
“I guess I’m wondering why you left the way you did, Sophie. You and Eric had a strong, committed relationship. You were weeks away from getting married.”
“Things may have appeared fine, but they weren’t.” She held the officer’s stare.
Clyde sighed, folding his hands on his desk. “Attorney Trombley has shared some very serious accusations you’re making against Eric.”
“No less serious or damaging than the allegations Mr. Winthrop has made against Sophie,” Jeremiah added. “But we’re willing to let that go.”
“I see you’ve married,” Clyde glanced at the ring on her finger as her hand lay folded loosely in Stone’s.
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Stone asked.
Jeremiah sent Stone a warning glance. “Sophie would like the charges against her dropped,” Jeremiah said. “This entire situation is nothing more than a huge misunderstanding.”
Clyde puffed up his flabby chest. “But Eric’s accountants are able to show us a five-thousand-dollar deficit in his books, which does make these charges stick.”
“Which Sophie has explained to you she believed to be hers,” Jeremiah interjected. “The inventory she sold was made with her own hands.”
“Sophie turned the business over to Eric when Christina was ill,” Clyde argued.
“I did,” she admitted. “Which I regret every single day.”
“And one might be able to argue that Sophie signed the legal documentation Mr. Winthrop presented her to gain control of the business under emotional duress,” Jeremiah suggested. “But that’s an entirely different can of worms. Let’s get back to the here and now.” Jeremiah scooted up in his chair. “Mr. Winthrop’s accountants should be able to show that Sophie is entitled to some sort of compensation for providing product to his company and for being his employee, which she did not receive.”
Clyde chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’ll have to see how Eric would like to proceed.”
“Let’s cut through all the bullshit here,” Stone said sitting up, ignoring Jeremiah’s not so subtle clearing of his throat. “Eric can waste his time, the court’s time, and ours, but we all know these charges aren’t going to stick once we get in front of the judge. Sophie’s set to inherit five million dollars next year. Why would she risk a criminal record over five grand? This whole thing’s a bunch of crap, and you know it.”
Clyde sat back in his chair, holding Stone’s intense stare.
“I’d really like to give the money back, Clyde, and go home,” Sophie added, hoping to relax some of the tension in the room.
Stone squeezed her fingers. “Even though it’s yours.”
“Let me talk to Eric,” Clyde said.
“You make sure to tell him to stay away from Sophie,” Stone added.
“I can’t make guarantees on Eric’s behalf.”
“I’m still trying to figure out how he knew she was here.”
It was Clyde’s turn to shift in his seat as he cleared his throat.
“We want this entire matter to go away,” Jeremiah said. “Sophie has agreed to leave the past in the past if we can find a resolution to our current problem.”
“If you’re speaking of her allegations of abuse, Jeremiah, you know I can’t go around issuing warrants for domestic violence without proof. Now with all due respect, Sophie, you know Eric loves you—”
“Hold the hell up,” Stone interjected. “I just peeled your pal off of my wife back by the bathrooms—”
“I don’t care about that or any of the rest,” Sophie said in a rush, flicking a glance toward Stone’s unreadable gaze. “I just want the warrant for my arrest to go away.”
“We’ll let you speak to Mr. Winthrop or his attorney.” Jeremiah closed his briefcase. “You can give me a call when you know how he would like to proceed.”
“Ms. Burke, or Mrs. McCabe, I guess it is now, is not free to leave the state,” Clyde said as he stood.
She glanced toward the window, hating the idea of being stuck here for even one more minute.
“We’ll be at the hotel over by the airport,” Stone added as he and Sophie got to their feet.
“Thanks for your cooperation in this matter, Clyde,” Jeremiah shook his hand, and they walked out.
She stepped from the room, pausing when she spotted Eric speaking to Joe.
Stone took her hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He tightened his grip, and they left as quickly as they’d arrived.
~~~~
Stone sat across from Sophie, watching her push her food around her plate, as she’d done for the last several minutes. He’d hoped the quaint Italian place with its classic checkered tablecloths and squat candle burning in the center of the table might relax her, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He polished off the remains of his perfectly prepared rib eye and set down his silverware. “How’s the piccata?”
She continued sliding her bite among the pasta and spears of grilled asparagus, staring into the flame.
“Soph.” He brushed his finger over her knuckles.
Her eyes darted to his. “Hmm?”
“How’s the food?”
“Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” She sat up further in her seat. “Very delicious.”
“I haven’t seen you take a bite yet.”
Sighing, she looked at her plate. “I’m not hungry.”
He stood, abandoning his side of the table, and slid into the booth next to her. “You should eat.” He took the fork and stabbed the piece of golden chicken, bringing it to her lips.
She took the bite and chewed.
“Good?”
She nodded.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, wanting to erase the troubled look that had been in her eyes since last night. Their trip to her mother’s grave and walk along her favorite local beach had brought her little comfort. Nothing seemed to help. “How you doing?” he murmured against her soft hair.
She leaned further into him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Okay.” She touched his wedding band, twisting the silver on his finger. “I hate it here. This was my home for so many y
ears, but now I want to leave so badly and never come back.”
He thought of Eric’s nasty murmurs through the bathroom door and the way the asshole had grabbed Sophie’s arms, shoving her toward the women’s room as he opened the door. He’d wanted to kill the bastard. He’d wanted to squeeze the fucker’s windpipe until his heart stopped. “We’ll be out of here soon,” he said, struggling to force the sickening memory away.
“I can’t settle. I keep waiting to turn around and see Clyde coming at me with a pair of handcuffs.”
He pulled her closer against him. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
She twisted his ring faster. “I’m not so sure. He and Eric are such good friends. Eric does a lot for the department—scholarships for the officers’ children, family barbeques, art nights for the spouses, not to mention he and Clyde are golf buddies.” She stopped fiddling with his finger. “I feel like everyone’s looking at me, like this whole town is against me. He has them all fooled.”
He glanced around the busy restaurant, noting the looks they were getting. “Screw them.” He held up his hand as the waitress walked by. “Check please.”
“Sure thing.” The woman eyed Sophie as she turned away.
“I just want to go back to Los Angeles.”
“Hopefully tomorrow.”
She nodded.
The waitress brought the bill over. “Thanks for coming in. It was good to see you again, Sophie. You look so different.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Liza.”
Stone jotted down a tip and signed the merchant’s copy. “Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand, and they walked outside into the cooling evening. He scanned their surroundings in the dim streetlights, pulling her close to him, for warmth but also because he’d spotted the familiar black Mercedes parallel parked halfway down the block. Eric was here. He’d followed them at a distance for most of the day. Eric Winthrop could paint, and he had a knack for beating defenseless women, but he sure as hell wasn’t stealthy by any means. Calling the cops to report harassment wasn’t an option. Clyde and his crew clearly weren’t on Sophie’s side, so he’d done his best to ignore Eric’s presence. Sophie hadn’t seemed to notice the intrusion, which worked just fine for him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed,” he said as they crossed the street. He opened the door to the hotel lobby, letting her in before him.
“I’m too restless.”
He punched the button for the elevator. “What if you try a shower?”
She shrugged as they stepped inside. “I guess.”
Within moments the door opened on the fifth floor. They walked to their room and he let them in.
“I guess it doesn’t hurt to give the shower a try.”
“Go for it.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV as she unzipped her carryon, pulling her clothes from the bag, heading toward the bathroom.
Stone stripped down himself, changing into basketball shorts, stretching out on the bed. For the first time since they landed, he was able to let his guard down. He pressed the buttons on the remote, flipping through the unfamiliar channel lineup while he waited for Sophie. Several minutes later she came out, among a plume of steam, in her usual tank top and shorts, her face free of makeup and her hair damp from the shower.
“Better?”
“Mmm. Much.”
“Good.”
She put her clothes away and wandered to the window, her shoulders set and rigid as they had been for hours.
He glanced at the Dodgers’ highlights and at Sophie as she moved toward the small table, nibbling her lip then started back toward the window. “You gonna sit down, Soph, or wear out the carpet?”
She paused, touching the glass. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to settle. I keep telling myself I just have to make it through tonight, then we get to go home, but it doesn’t help.” She licked her lips, swiping wisps of hair behind her ear. “His house is over there among that grouping of lights.” She shuddered, crossing her arms. “I know it’s miles away, but still.” She huffed. “I keep replaying the way he grabbed me at the police station. I hate that I let him touch me. I hate that he scares me.”
She was tying herself up in more knots. He sat up. “Come here.” He patted the space next to him on the bed.
She glanced over her shoulder, turned, and walked his way, sitting at his side.
“Watch TV with me.” He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her down with him, settling her against him. “Romantic comedy, right?”
“You pick. I’m too distracted to pay attention.”
He nudged her rigid body closer, wanting desperately for her to relax. “Let’s give it a try anyway.” He flipped through stations, stopping on a Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson flick already playing. “How about this?”
“Sure.”
He settled back on the pillow, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles against her arm. As the minutes passed her body relaxed, and eventually she uncurled her fist lying on his chest. He glanced down at her wedding ring close to his heart, staring at her pretty fingers touching his skin.
She chuckled, then all-out laughed while the couple on TV bantered back and forth.
He smiled. This was exactly what he wanted. He tuned into the movie himself, content with Sophie in his arms, and found himself chuckling right along with her before the movie cut to a commercial break.
She looked up at him. “I forgot how funny this is.”
“It’s not too bad.”
She grinned. “I’m pretty sure I heard you laughing.”
He smiled. “Chick flicks aren’t really my deal.”
“What do you like?”
“The clichéd manly movies. The more stuff that blows up, the better.” He smiled as she did.
Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then met his.
She smelled amazing, as always; her skin was warm against his as he trailed his fingers along her jaw, down her neck and arm. “You thinking about kissing me, Soph?” he asked quietly.
Her breath shuddered in and out as she touched his cheek. “Yes.”
“Kiss me,” he whispered.
She moved in hesitantly, capturing his mouth slowly, chastely.
“That’s a nice start.” He stopped her from easing away with his hand on the back of her neck. “Kiss me again.”
She came back for more, holding his gaze as he parted his lips, sliding his tongue against the silk of hers. Following his lead, she copied him stroke for stroke, running her fingers through his hair, far less shy than she had been in his kitchen. He took her deeper, savoring her taste, pulling her on top of him, brushing his palms down her ribs, to her waist and the hem of her shirt, sliding up the cotton as he traveled back. Her breathing came faster as he tore his lips from hers, staring into her eyes, rolling until she lay against the pillow and he settled himself at her side. But all he wanted was to feel her beneath him. “Is this okay?”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed, the violet of her eyes shades darker.
He took her mouth again, more urgently, nibbling her bottom lip, tugging gently, wanting it all, needing it. Feathering kisses along her temples and cheekbones, he moved to the rapid pulse point in her neck, then her collarbone, groaning when her hesitant hands trailed up his arms to his shoulders and down his back. Her touch was so timid and teasing, her gaze so shy as she held his.
God he could eat her alive. He pushed at the loose straps of her top, exposing her beautiful breasts, her pink nipples already hard. He touched her with the tips of his fingers, and she arched. Leaning in, he bathed her sensitive peak, tracing the point as she clutched at his waist, her hips rocking as she whimpered. He sampled her other breast, watching her stomach shudder with each shaky breath. She was so responsive. He wanted her. He could have her right now, but not here and not like this. He kissed her again, regretting the crappy timing, and eased away, caressing her cheek. “I think your movie’s back on.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, and she licked her
swollen lips. “Huh?”
“Your movie.”
“But—”
“You’re missing your show.”
Confusion moved through her eyes before she looked away as if she’d done something wrong.
“Hey.” He gripped her chin, holding her gaze. “Not here,” he murmured, kissing her again, fixing her shirt. “Not here, Soph. Not when you’re thinking about him.”
She nodded, touching his cheek.
His cell phone started ringing on the side table. “I need to get that.” He leaned over her, reaching for the phone. “Yeah. Hello.”
“Stone, it’s Jeremiah.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” He sat up, and Sophie followed.
“It looks like Eric is willing to drop the charges as long as Sophie gives up the money.”
He clenched his jaw. The bastard had balls, that was for sure. “But it’s hers.” He didn’t give a damn what the legalities were. That money belonged to Sophie, and everyone knew it.
“That may be so. We can make this easy or we can drag it out.”
He looked at Sophie staring at him, her eyes weary again, her cheeks, flushed just moments ago, now pale. He wanted her to file charges against Eric for the marks he left on her today and the hell he’d put her though over the last couple of years. He deserved to rot in jail. “So he gets the money, and he’s going to stay away.”
“That’s what he says.”
“I want it in writing.”
“I’m already a step ahead of you. I drafted something up when I got back to the office. Eric’s supposed to be meeting up with his lawyer right now. They’ll be faxing me the paperwork within the hour. If you want I can stop by the hotel in the morning and grab the money. You and Sophie should be good to head home.”
“And that’ll wrap this up?”
“That’ll end it.”
He’d already looked at potential flights out while Sophie sat by her mother’s grave. They weren’t going anywhere until eleven. “We’ll see you around eight if that works for you.”
