What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance)

by Rachel Brimble

  Sasha had worked with Freddy a long time and almost certainly knew more than John what the man was capable of, but he refused to be intimidated by anyone—least of all Freddy Campton. “I appreciate your concern but, as time goes on, I’m starting to realize who I am. I might have had a privileged life, Sasha, but whether I like it or not, the longer I’m here, the more I realize Kyle’s blood runs through my veins as much as my mother’s. Up until now, her genes have been the strongest. From now on, it might just be Kyle’s that take over until I’m done.”

  He could have sworn she shivered, but her gaze confidently held his. “Well, rightly or wrongly, I’ve got a feeling I’ll never be the target of your anger, so be who you have to be to deal with this.”

  He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “You’re right. You won’t.” He raised his eyes to hers and they stood that way, neither moving, for a long moment before she crossed her arms.

  The softness in her dark eyes glinted with challenge. “So...if I’m seeing my mum tomorrow, when are you seeing Kyle? You should see him face-to-face. No phone calls or letters. You need to go to the prison.”

  His stomach wound tight. He exhaled. “I will.”

  “When?”

  “I’ll ring the prison tomorrow and see about getting a visitor’s permit. I’ve no idea how these things work.”

  “Me neither, but I’m pretty sure he’ll see you.”

  He nodded and winked. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He turned and strode to her front door. Once he’d pulled it shut behind him, he stopped. How the hell had his coming to her apartment to help her ended up with him agreeing to see Kyle? That was the last thing he intended on doing when he came to Templeton.

  By now, he expected to be halfway home, having pissed every penny of Kyle’s drug money up the wall. Now he was going to meet the man who abandoned him years before for the very first time in almost two decades. John straightened his spine. This time he was an adult and a man. He was Kyle’s equal. No...his better.

  John marched along the corridor. He’d slept with a beautiful woman, spent day after day with her and, what’s more, wanted to spend the coming days and weeks with her. Whichever way he looked at it, he was up shit alley with only one direction left to take.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Sasha warily watched Marian from the corner of her eye as she served the couple holding hands like inseparable lovebirds at the bakery counter. Sasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Since when was a couple ever that happy? Sex was sex. Men came and went. Women trusted then got hurt. Love was no more than a carousel of people running around in endless circles of disappointment.

  She scowled and pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head. Sooner or later, the frisson of lust she felt every time she remembered the warmth of John’s hands on her skin would abate. Sooner or later, the stupid dip she got in her stomach and the hammer in her heart when he looked at her would give way to friendship.

  That was her cycle. Lover then friend. She was proud of her “friendships.” They meant she wasn’t really the ice queen people assumed she was, just because she wasn’t married or in a relationship at the grand old age of twenty-seven. No one knew she chose to keep men at arm’s length. They didn’t need to know. She had to be the one in control...not the man. Never the man.

  But John had arrived like a tornado and turned her life on a different path—shooting her off on an emotional rocket with him in the pilot’s seat. He was a good man. A good man whom she liked way too much...

  “Sasha, my darlin’!” Marian’s voice rang out from across the counter.

  Sasha’s smile sprang into place and she reached over the counter for a clumsy hug. “Hi. How are you?”

  Marian grinned. “Just fine. All the better for seeing you. Can you stop for a chinwag or do you need to get to work?” Her smile faltered and her gaze turned suspicious. “All okay at the fair? That Jordon upstart behaving himself?”

  Sasha waved her hand dismissively. “Him? He’s a pussycat, honestly.”

  Marian narrowed her gaze. Sasha’s mouth trembled with the effort it took to keep smiling under the older woman’s scrutiny. Time stood still. After what felt like an eternity, Marian emitted an inelegant snort. “Hmm, I’m sure he is.” She tilted her head toward the tables at the back of the shop. “Grab a seat. Looks as though we need to have us a little chat.”

  Sasha exhaled. “We do.”

  “Good. I’ll be right over.”

  When Marian turned toward the coffee machine, Sasha moved between the tables to a vacant booth. She slid along one of the seats and stared out the window at the passing morning traffic. Thoughts of the conversation she was about to have with Marian had kept her awake all night.

  Before she saw her mother, she was determined to arm herself with as much information as possible. If anyone wanted to know anything about what had gone on in the Cove in the past, they went to Marian. She had only been a Templeton resident for about seven years, but thanks to her often nosy conversations with the regular customers who had come to be reliant on her cakes and pastries, Marian knew the good, the bad and the ugly about everyone. Except me. Please, God, except me.

  The aroma of freshly ground coffee wafted over her, and Sasha plastered on a smile and turned. Her stomach seemed to remain facing the other way. “Ooh, fabulous. A chocolate croissant, too? You spoil me.”

  Marian’s eyes glinted with wisdom as she stared at Sasha and slid her ample behind into the opposite seat. “I bring food and drink because you’re skinnier than a drainpipe. Don’t you know Templeton men like something to grab ahold of? Look at me. Do you think these young men come in here after my food? Don’t you believe it.”

  Sasha grinned and relaxed her shoulders. “Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “Make sure you do. Right...” She lifted her cup of tea from its saucer and sipped. “What’s going on?”

  Taking the pastry from the plate, Sasha took a deep breath. “My mother.”

  “Ah.” Marian slowly returned her cup to its saucer.

  Sasha chewed with difficulty, due to the saliva suddenly disappearing from her mouth.

  Marian’s brown eyes darkened as she pulled her mouth into a thin line. “What about her?”

  The hunk of pastry finally descended Sasha’s throat. “I need to know everything you know about what went on between her and Granddad....” She inhaled and exhaled the next words in a rush. “And between her and Kyle.”

  Marian raised her eyebrows. “Her and Kyle? Don’t talk daft. Even your mother didn’t consort with the likes of him.” She frowned. “Did she?”

  A burst of relief blended with a rush of frustration. If Marian wasn’t aware of her mother’s dealings with Kyle, there was a good chance she didn’t know about Sasha’s molestation, either. She slumped back. It also meant she couldn’t throw any more light on what her mother might tell her.

  Forewarned was forearmed, and now she’d have to face her mother as though blindfolded. “Damn it.”

  “You’re disappointed?” Marian stared wide-eyed. “Why would you want her to have anything to do with Kyle Jordon? What’s going on?”

  “She’s denying it, but there’s some...speculation she might have had a hand in getting Granddad to sell the fair. When I leave here, I’m going to see her but wanted to have all the facts beforehand.” She smiled wryly. “It was worth running things past the Cove’s oracle first.”

  Marian frowned. “Who told you she had something to do with Kyle? Not that son of his...”

  Sasha nodded. “And I believe him. First it came from Freddy and then John spoke directly with his dad.” She swallowed. “Kyle has no reason to make anything up. He’s dying.”

  “He’s...” She closed her eyes. “Oh.”

  Sasha couldn’t ignore the hint of disappointment that coated Marian’s tone. “John’s under the impression people in the Cove didn’t hate Kyle as much as he originally thought. From your reaction to him dying, and mine, I t
hink he’s right.”

  Marian opened her eyes. “Kyle Jordon is a complicated man, sweetheart. My George says he always has been. If he’s dying and called his son to Templeton, maybe this means worse things aren’t to come. It could mean better things instead. Kyle has his nasty side, yes, but he was also a man who stood up for people he felt were wrongly treated. I’ve seen him help old people across the street and play five minutes of impromptu soccer with kids on the beach. It’s confusing as can be, and his split personality left us treading on eggshells, but you couldn’t deny Kyle was a man with a heart...even if it was entirely unpredictable.”

  Sasha blew out a breath. “Choosing when to be good or bad doesn’t make Kyle Jordon a nice person.”

  “Of course not. He had zero integrity. There was a payoff for him, no matter what he did.”

  “So, you think he could be making this up about my mother then?”

  Marian locked her kindly gaze on Sasha. “All I know is your mother wanted out of here and away from that fair. She wanted you and Tanya as far away as possible. Everyone knew it, but not why. Then, bam, one day she comes into some money and she’s leaving.”

  Sasha froze. “What money? When she and Tanya left, Mum told me she’d rather live in a pigsty than stay in Templeton and be branded a Gypsy. She didn’t have any money. She lives in a tiny flat.”

  “With your father dead and leaving nothing behind, how could she up and move like that? It takes money to move and start again elsewhere. She must have had something.”

  Sasha closed her eyes. So she did give Kyle information he was willing to pay for. “You’re right.” Revulsion curdled like sour milk in Sasha’s stomach, and she pressed a hand there. She opened her eyes and studied Marian for a reaction. “This is speculation, right? You’d tell me if you knew anything for sure?”

  “Of course I would.” Marian squeezed Sasha’s hand on the table. “You know what you young ones mean to me. You’re our future. I don’t want you leaving the Cove any more than anyone else, but I do want you to live here happily. You haven’t been truly happy since you were a young girl, from what I’ve heard.”

  Heat pinched Sasha’s cheeks, and she slid her hand gently from Marian’s and into her lap. She swallowed. “Who said that?”

  Two spots of color darkened Marian’s cheeks and she shrugged. “No one in particular, but you’re a pretty girl. People are watching you all the time.” She smiled softly. “Especially the men hankering for a second of your attention.”

  Sasha shook her head. “I’ve pushed John to go and see Kyle. I told him to ask Kyle everything he wants to know. The trouble is, if John is prepared to do that, it’s only right I keep up my end of the bargain and get to the truth of the sale between Kyle and Granddad.” She stared into Marian’s eyes. “So, it wasn’t my mother who said anything to you about me changing?”

  Marian frowned. “No. Why? Did something happen?”

  Sasha shook her head and gulped a mouthful of coffee. “It doesn’t matter. I’d better go before I change my mind about seeing her.”

  She pushed to her feet, and Marian slid from the booth. She opened her arms and Sasha tried not to collapse into the older woman’s embrace. In that moment, she would’ve given the world for Marian to be her mother...and to not have to face her real one.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “JUST LEAVE, FREDDY. Just get your stuff and get out of here.” John feigned interest in his laptop, grappling to suppress the overwhelming urge to grab Freddy’s wide neck and throttle him.

  “You can’t do this. When Kyle finds out—”

  John snapped his head up. “That I fired your ass because I don’t need you he’ll come after me? I don’t think so. When will you listen to me? He doesn’t care. He used you and you’re not worth anything to him now. He won’t give a crap you’re gone. Trust me.”

  Freddy’s eyes bulged as his chest rose and fell. “I’m not walking away with nothing after years of working for Kyle.”

  “I’ve paid you fair and square.” He nodded toward the brown envelope in Freddy’s hand. “There’s a wad of extra cash in there because I figured you deserve some compensation for the risks you’ve undoubtedly taken for Kyle over the years, but that’s where it ends. I don’t owe you anything. If you think Kyle does, take it up with him.”

  He slid his gaze back to the laptop, his heart pumping. If Freddy wanted to fight him, he could bring it on. A morning spent going over Kyle’s file box of names had left John in a murderous mood. If Freddy wanted to feel the brunt of his anger, that was fine and dandy. One by one, John intended on going through Kyle’s list and paying off the people he’d manipulated for his benefit. It was the quickest and easiest way to get rid of the tainted money he didn’t want.

  What was left, John had saved for DI Garrett’s husband and his plans for a new drop-in center in Marchenton. The thought of Kyle’s immoral proceeds being used to help the people he’d hurt held no end of ironic appeal.

  “You’ll regret this, Jordon.”

  John shook his head. “The hell I will.”

  With a grunt and a curse, Freddy left the office, leaving the door wide open behind him. John shoved back his chair and strode to the door, slamming it succinctly. He fisted his hands on his hips as the need to get out of the office, the fair—God damn it, Templeton—rose like a tsunami inside him. He glanced at the wall clock. Sasha was most likely with her mother by now and thoughts of her hurting sent his brain pulsing with helplessness. How was he supposed to sit and do nothing? Worse, wait until tomorrow until he saw her again?

  He marched to his desk and forced his ass into the chair. He had plenty to get on with. He glanced at the computer screen once more. He could get in the car and start distributing Kyle’s money. Damn, he could get in the car and go see Jay Garrett and hand over a big fat check right now. He could think of nothing else to bring him more satisfaction....

  How would Sasha get to her mother’s? He didn’t even know where she lived. John frowned and stared at his cell phone on the desk. It had been tauntingly silent all morning. As far as he knew, Sasha didn’t own a car. He’d only seen her on her bike. Maybe she’d appreciate a lift there. Save her having to pay for the train.

  “You sad sap,” he muttered. Leave her be. She’s managed well enough without you so far.

  He didn’t want her to manage; he wanted to take care of her. He wanted to atone for some of the pain that Kyle, and maybe her mother, had caused her. He reached for his cell and tapped it against his bottom lip. He’d called the prison and put in a request for a visiting permit. The official there had said if Kyle agreed to the visit, the permit would then take a couple of days to produce. That couple of days fell on the weekend, so now John faced four days of waiting. He ground his teeth together and hissed out a breath.

  He hated waiting.

  Waiting was for people who had time to sit around doing nothing. People who liked to have time to linger and think. That wasn’t him.

  He snatched up his phone before he could change his mind and dialed Sasha’s number.

  “John?” Surprise, followed by a hint of apprehension, laced her tone. “Everything okay?”

  He grimaced, wishing he felt more like a gentleman wanting to help a woman than a stalker hassling a Spanish princess. “Sure. Everything’s fine.”

  Her exhalation sounded down the line. “Good. For a moment there, I thought Freddy might have you strung up on the Ferris wheel by your pants.” She laughed.

  “Funny.” He smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Where are you?”

  “I’m just waiting for a taxi to take me to the station, then it’s on to visit with Mummy Dearest. Have you spoken to Freddy?”

  “Yes. And yes, he’s gone. And yes, he’s pissed.”

  “He’s not going to go quietly. I hope you’re prepared for the fallout.”

  “I am. Don’t worry.” He inhaled a long breath. “Listen, I want to get out of here. How about I keep you company and drive you to your mum’
s?”

  Silence.

  John stared ahead, ignoring the voice in his head telling him he’d taken a step too far, was pushing into her personal life at a rate of forty knots. Getting personal was never the deal, but they obliterated the business boundary the moment his lips hungrily touched hers.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d like to. We’re in this together now. And that means more than the fair. We’re in it together with regards to your mother and Kyle, too.”

  “Did you call the prison?”

  “Yes. It looks as though I’ll be seeing him Monday or Tuesday next week.”

  “Right.”

  “So? Can I drive you?”

  “Okay.”

  He stiffened as surprise rippled through him. “Okay?”

  “Sure. It beats getting the train, but you don’t get to come in my mother’s house. You’ll have to grab a coffee somewhere while I talk to her. Agreed?”

  He smiled, relief pumping through him. “Agreed.”

  “What about leaving the fair unattended?”

  “I’ll lock the office and leave the others to it. It’ll be fine for a few hours.”

  “What if Freddy comes back? The stallholders can’t be held responsible for having to deal with trouble. Each stall is a separate franchise, but the fair itself is mine...I mean, yours, to take care of.”

  John squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pang of guilt that struck his gut into submission. Keeping the fair from her for the time being was an indisputable decision. Kyle couldn’t be trusted. Sooner or later, she’d realize John was doing what he thought best for her right now. He opened his eyes. “The stallholders and the people who run the rides will handle it. I trust them to do the right thing while I’m gone. Don’t you? I thought you knew the people here.”

  “I do.”

  “Do you trust them?”

  “Yes. But if—”

  “I don’t deal in ifs and maybes. I don’t want to be here today...I want to be with you.”