by Melody Anne
She was barely able to suck him into her mouth before his fingers were grasping her hair and pulling her back.
“Enough,” he growled as he dropped to the ground with her. “I need to be inside you.”
Those words were music to her ears. She fell backward and spread her thighs, needing him to cradle himself between them. He didn’t make her wait.
With a quick tug of his fingers, he ripped her panties away and pushed her dress out of the way before his weight rested on top of her.
“You’re so beautiful, Grace. I wish I could see you better,” he said before his lips began nibbling on hers while his thickness rested against her wet center.
“Please, Cam. I need you,” she whispered.
He didn’t keep her waiting any longer. With a hard thrust of his hips, he sank deep inside, and the pressure of being filled by him after so long without sent her spiraling out of control. Her body squeezed around him as she cried into his mouth, his lips now fully over her own.
He groaned as he moved in and out of her, letting her fully enjoy her orgasm, and then he rested between her thighs. She could almost feel the deep satisfaction oozing off him.
“Ah, baby, you always were so responsive,” he said before he began moving again, building the heat right back up within her.
Tugging on the straps of her dress, Cam freed her breasts while trapping her arms at her sides. She wiggled against him, but it was to no avail. She quit struggling when his head moved down and he captured her aching nipple with his teeth while he continued pumping in and out of her moist folds.
When her second orgasm rushed through her she felt him stiffen against her as his body shook, and together they saw more stars than were in the sky above them.
Neither of them said a word as they lay there together, arms linked, bodies close. Music could be heard quietly reaching out to them, but for this moment Grace was in a haven. However, soon that peacefulness evaporated and she knew she’d made a mistake.
Without a word, she stood, rearranged her clothes, and walked away, not with regret, but with great pain to once again leave this man she couldn’t seem to ever stop loving.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Camden Whitman raked a hand through his hair once again—he looked like a refugee from an ancient punk band—and let out a long-suffering sigh. “It doesn’t matter how many times I go through this file. All arrows point straight to Grace,” he snapped before leaning back in his desk chair and pushing the file away, disgusted with all of it.
“We both know she’s not capable of doing this, so you have to be missing something,” said his father, Martin Whitman, seated comfortably across from him. He didn’t seem worried at all.
“You’ve looked at it, Dad. You tell me what I’m missing.”
“The file turned up on your desk, Cam. I’m not the one who’s supposed to help her,” he said before pausing and throwing his son a smile. “You are.”
“I would love to know who put it there. That’s still a big mystery. Somehow I don’t think either of her parents cares enough to want to help her. But I certainly do want to. The problem is that every time I approach her about this, we end up in a fight. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to make her listen,” Martin said, as if there was nothing easier than getting Grace to pay attention to anything Camden had to say.
“Ugh! It’s not that simple. We have history together. It’s just . . . I don’t know, it’s complicated. When she came back to town last year, I could see she was bitter, but as time has passed, nothing I do seems to change those feelings. I can only help her if she allows it.”
Camden moved to the window and looked out over the small town square. Two kids played chase in the park while their mother sat on the bench watching them. Sterling was a great place to live, to work, and to raise a family. It’s why he’d come back. At one time he’d wanted to settle down with Grace, have children, and live a happy, normal life. But the world had a way of intercepting the ball even in the best of plays.
Grace and Cam had been friends from the time he moved to Sterling. She was four years younger than he was, but tougher than any boy, and their relationship began out of respect. They stayed in contact while he was away at college.
The summer he came home with his degree in hand before going on to law school, he saw Grace in a whole new way. She was eighteen, beautiful, and going into her senior year of high school.
Their love blossomed over the summer, and when he left for grad school, he was sure their relationship could last—but he was wrong. By the end of his first year of law school, there was nothing left of them to come home to.
Now the odds seemed to be forever in their disfavor, and it appeared there was nothing Cam could do about it, nothing but annoy a woman who just might wind up in prison.
“The file landed on your desk because whoever put it there knew you wouldn’t stop until you solved this case,” Martin told him.
“I don’t think it really matters who has the case. It looks pretty airtight—seems like she did it.” Cam cringed as he said that out loud.
“Ah, but you know not everything is as it seems, son.”
“I’ve been fighting with her for a year on this,” Camden said. “It’s not long before the feds get involved, as you well know.”
“Okay, boy. Let’s take another look at the file together and see if there’s anything we can come up with.”
“Might as well.” Cam grabbed the file off his desk and sat down at the large conference table in his office.
His father joined him and they pulled out the three-inch-thick pile of papers.
Martin flipped through the stack and stopped. “Right here is where it all began.”
“Yeah, Dad, that’s the first incident I can see of the embezzling.”
“Wait. We’re already off to a poor start,” Martin said. “Why don’t you describe to me what you’ve figured out, start to finish?”
“C’mon, Dad. You know everything I know.”
“Sometimes putting things into story form helps clarify it,” Martin said. “Let me start our little fairy tale off. Five years ago, one Grace Sinclair, the accused, opened a nonprofit by the name of Youthspiration. You pick it up from there.”
“This is so lame . . . okay, okay,” Cam said when his father gave him a warning look. “To an outsider, an auditor—hell, to the average person—it looks like all is well in paradise. If you look closely, the donation amounts coming in and then going back out all match up perfectly.”
Martin broke in. “There’s nothing wrong with starting up a nonprofit.”
“What are you doing here, Dad?”
“I’m playing devil’s advocate, pretending I know nothing.”
“This isn’t a game. It’s serious. What can you possibly be smiling about?”
“I’m not enjoying the fact that Grace is in trouble. It’s just a pleasure to see you so focused about work, to see you on a mission,” Martin told him. “Besides, I like playing dumb,” he added with a laugh.
“I don’t think you can pass as dumb, not with all the years you sat as the county judge, or the fact that you have successfully run three businesses worth billions of dollars,” Cam reminded him.
“Right now I’m just Joe Schmo, juror, at your service.”
“All right, I’ll play along. About a year ago, somebody made an anonymous tip to the IRS, telling them that they might want to dig a little deeper into this nonprofit. They dug and found nothing. So then this file pops up on my desk and, me being me, I can’t help but do some of my own digging. The nonprofit looks aboveboard. But when you peel away the layers of the onion and get to the heart of it, something’s rotten. All the outgoing checks are written and seem to be going to real organizations, but there are duplicates, and those are heading straight into offshore accounts. Whoever’s doing this is smart, though, because the money is siphoned off in such a way as to not raise red flags and
to keep the culprit highly protected.”
“How so? If you found offshore accounts, can’t the feds?”
“Yes, they can, and I don’t see how they haven’t yet,” Cam said. “Anyway, all signs point directly to Grace.”
“And what does Grace have to say about it?” Martin asked.
“She said I was out of my mind. That she never opened up this or any other nonprofit and she certainly didn’t take any money.”
“Her word is good enough for me,” Martin piped in.
“You’re Joe Schmo, juror, remember?” Cam pointed out. “They don’t know Grace. Hell, Dad, we don’t know her anymore, either. She left home for a very long time. Life has a way of changing us.”
“That’s BS and you know it, son. Little Gracie would never be involved in something like this.”
“I don’t think she would, either, but there’s a bank account in her name where large dollar amounts are randomly deposited and then immediately taken out as cash. The withdrawals coordinate with the times she’s in the area of that particular branch of the bank.”
“What do you mean?” Martin asked.
“I mean that she goes to Billings, and then there’s a withdrawal.”
“So it looks pretty bad for her, huh?”
“Yeah, it looks pretty bad. And each time I’ve tried to discuss this with her, she puts her head in the sand, says she has nothing to do with it, that it’s not her, and then we get into a fight.”
“You have no other choice but to make her listen.”
“Easier said than done, Dad. Our history isn’t exactly a smooth road.”
“This could mean the difference between her going to prison and not going.”
“It gets worse,” Cam said with a sigh, shutting the folder.
“How can it get worse than Gracie going to prison?”
“I think she either knows who is actually involved and she’s protecting them, or she’s been aware of this scheme the entire time.”
“No way!” Martin exclaimed. “There’s not a chance.”
“I don’t know for sure. But I can’t contact the IRS without her hiring me as her attorney, and I’m really at an impasse until she agrees to do something about this mess.”
“Have you thought of option number three?” Martin asked.
“What?” Cam asked, exasperated. He didn’t have time for these games, not even with his father.
“Maybe she wasn’t aware this was going on, but she has an idea of who it could be and she’s in denial.”
“Wouldn’t she want to go after the people smearing her name?” Cam asked.
“Not if it’s someone she loves and trusts, and she doesn’t want to find out they’ve betrayed her. We tend to bury our heads in the sand when the truth is too much for us to take.”
Cam didn’t know how to respond to that. It was an option he hadn’t even considered. There were very few people in Grace’s life who she truly loved, Cam knew that much for sure. Maybe her parents, although he couldn’t see her taking the rap for them, and definitely she loved her best friend, Sage, who had just married Cam’s brother Spence.
It couldn’t be her parents. They were wealthy—far too wealthy to need to embezzle, especially these sums. Yes, the total amount added up to a couple of million dollars, but that was chump change to them.
And Cam refused to believe it could be Sage. She was an incredible woman, in training to become a surgeon just like Cam’s brother. No. There had to be another explanation.
“I have to go, Dad.” He stood up and moved toward the door.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Martin asked as he quickly followed Cam from the office.
“I’m going to see Grace,” he said, determination in each stride. “It’s time for a showdown.”
“What’s the plan?” Martin asked before he got in the car.
“I’ll think of one on the way.” Her time of fighting him was over. Cam wasn’t one to take no for an answer—not when it was something he wanted.
Looking around the formal dining room of a restaurant she didn’t care for, Grace shuddered. She hated going to public places with her mother. She never knew how the conversation was going to go and, more importantly, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to keep her cool. So, it was much better to meet her mom in a private setting.
But today wasn’t going to be that easy on her.
“Why have you summoned me, Mother?”
No polite hellos, no hugs, no sign of a bond between mother and daughter. Hell, not even a suggestion that they were polite acquaintances. It was stiff and formal, and Grace was holding herself together by a thread. She always was when she saw her mother—or, more accurately, the woman who’d given birth to her.
“My friends the Griers are planning a wedding for their only daughter, Kitty, and she was so impressed with the event you put on last summer at Molly’s wedding that she has specifically asked for you to be her wedding planner.”
Grace blinked at her mother. It took a few minutes for the woman’s words to sink in. “Why would I want to plan that spoiled brat’s wedding?”
“I don’t know what in the world is wrong with you to make you say such a hateful thing!” Victoria gasped. “Kitty is a wonderful young lady with impeccable manners.”
“You’ve obviously never gone to a college party with the unblemished Ms. Kitty,” Grace said. “I once watched her get up on a table and do a striptease for a room full of frat boys. I was stupid enough to accompany her to a sorority function she was in charge of. Lesson learned.”
Victoria made haste to correct her daughter. “Grace Sinclair, you mustn’t say such things about a girl with such fine parents and such a spotless reputation.”
“Grow up, Mother. This is the real world. Only in the elite social circles you insist on being a part of do people turn the other way when confronted with scandal. I guarantee you everyone speaks about it; they just don’t mention it to your face.”
“I don’t know what all of this attitude is about. I already told Olivia that you were free and would love to plan her daughter’s wedding. Do not disappoint me.”
“You think you can tell me what to do? Really, Mother. You had a lot more pull before I found you all hot and heavy, panting up a storm while riding the man who raped me.”
Victoria almost choked. Her eyes darted around, and her shoulders only loosened up the smallest amount when she felt assured that no one was paying attention. Before she could vent her outrage, the server interrupted to take their order.
Grace sat back and watched in irritation as her mother ordered for both of them. Normally, Grace would call her on this, but she wasn’t going to get in a public fight over food. Old grudges, maybe, but not food.
When they were alone again, Victoria looked at her with so much ice in her eyes, Grace waited to be frozen. Neither said anything for a few tense moments. Grace wasn’t about to break the silence.
“You worthless, ungrateful little brat. I ruined my perfect body to give birth to you, raised you with everything you could have ever asked for and then some, and you even got a generous trust fund from your grandparents. I will not sit here and have you throw the past in my face. You will do this wedding or I will destroy the reputation you’ve built in your event-planning business. There is no way I want Edwin and Olivia to guess that my daughter is a spiteful little bitch.”
She said all of that without her expression altering.
“When did you become this bitter, cruel woman?” Grace asked, sitting back, not offended in the least by her mother’s words. She would have to care about her mom for the words to actually hurt her.
“I became what I had to in order to survive. You’re doing the same thing, precious little Grace. You think you’re so much better than me. I see it in your eyes every time you look at me. But just remember that you won’t be young and beautiful forever. Pretty soon, the lines will start showing up around your eyes, and then—joy of all joys—you’ll discover
that gravity is a real bitch. You aren’t any better than I am.”
“I won’t need to get a hundred surgeries trying to look twenty when I’m past forty,” Grace replied evenly. “I’m not vain like you. I don’t care if my body ages naturally. That just means that I’ve lived my life.”
“Whatever, Grace. It’s easy to say that now while you’re still young. But I won’t discuss that anymore. I came here for one reason and one reason only.”
“I’m not doing the party,” Grace said, determined.
“You will do this wedding, and you’ll do it because you actually care about your pitiful career,” Victoria said.
Grace sat there silently for a few moments while she counted to a hundred. Her mother was likewise silent, and once their meal had been set before them, Victoria began to eat as if nothing were wrong.
Her mother was correct. Grace did care about her career. She’d begun her own event-planning business, and as much as she despised her mother, she also knew the weight the woman pulled in the circles that could afford to hire an event planner.
Grace scooted her food around on her plate, unable to take even a single bite. Is this what her life had come down to? Ultimatums and sacrifice? It seemed that every which way she turned, someone wanted something from her—something she wasn’t able to give, or something that required her to give too much.
“Fine. I’ll plan Kitty’s wedding. But don’t for one moment think this is going to bond us,” Grace said, no emotion in her voice.
“Don’t worry, darling. I don’t want that, either. I’m done raising you. I will have Kitty call you right away.”
Victoria stood and walked away, leaving her daughter to pay the bill. Grace would bet her entire trust fund that her mother had never paid a check in her life. She actually believed her presence was worth paying for.
Before Grace had a chance to get up and abandon her lunch, which was now too cold to eat, someone plopped down on the opposite side of the table. How rude.
