Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense)

by Cathy Marlowe

  Overcome with emotion, she forced a note of enthusiasm into her voice and turned the page. “And we know just where to look for Spot, don’t we?”

  Zach sketched a quick design for bookshelves on the whiteboard before asking, “So what do you think about this idea for the nursery?”

  She looked up and watched as he wrote hurriedly under the sketch, Camera covered.

  “Oh, I, well, I’m not sure…” Suddenly the location of the whiteboard made sense. He’d found the camera and blocked its view. Her mind raced with possibilities.

  Could she trust him?

  He erased the words and wrote, Why are you here? and then erased that message as well. He lifted Daniel from her arms, and as she rose to take the marker from him, the only thing keeping them from touching was the small boy who smiled happily at them. Her heart raced as Zach’s gaze dropped to her lips. She swallowed hard, brushing past him to write her reply.

  Kneeling in front of the board, she hesitated, paralyzed by the opportunity to communicate freely, and finally began to write, My child— when the door flew open and Desiree breezed in.

  “Thomas, darling, here you are!”

  He moved to greet Desiree with a kiss on the cheek, blocking her view of the whiteboard as Lizzie grabbed the eraser and removed what she’d written.

  “I thought you and Alistair were on a conference call to France.”

  “It ended early. Whatever are you doing?” Desiree asked.

  Lizzie put the eraser down and turned to face her as Thomas began to share his plans for the nursery. She suppressed a smile at his impressive song and dance. She could tell he was improvising, but Desiree was oblivious. Just as she was beginning to enjoy herself, Alistair strode into the room.

  “What’s this about redesigning the nursery?” He advanced without hesitation and planted a kiss on Lizzie’s cheek before placing his hand at her waist and surveying the room. “Really, Thomas, you designed this nursery yourself. I see no need for renovations. The boy hardly cares about the shape or location of his bookshelves, and Maggie gets along just fine in here. Isn’t that right, dear?” He ran one finger down the side of her face as a quiet yes escaped her lips. “There, you see, Thomas?”

  Zach nodded. Lizzie took small comfort from the tic that appeared in his jaw.

  “Well then, come along. There’s work to be done. Desiree, please call the maid to clean up this mess.”

  The men left the room, along with her opportunity to tell Zach the truth.

  …

  There, you see, Thomas? His father’s words played again and again in his head as they walked toward the conference room. Oh, yes, he’d agreed, because he had seen. He’d witnessed Maggie’s discomfort with his father’s touch. If the old man had put his hands on her one more time—well, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stand there and watch.

  It was nine forty-five that evening by the time he headed toward the nursery. Desiree had been waiting for him when he’d finished another endless workday at eight thirty. Rather than subject Maggie to his fiancée’s presence, he’d joined Desiree for a late dinner and drinks on the terrace, finally escaping after dropping her at her door with a perfunctory good-night kiss that she’d tried to turn into something more, hinting that she might have a surprise for him.

  He’d wanted to laugh. Didn’t the woman realize his life was one surprise after another?

  Tonight he hoped to find out what Maggie had intended to write. My child. She was here because of her child? Or was she interrupted while writing children? Alistair may have foiled today’s attempt at communication, but he would find another way.

  When he entered the nursery, he found Ace sleeping peacefully in his crib. The guard outside the door said Maggie had left a little before nine and had yet to return.

  By ten he was truly worried, tapping his fingers soundlessly against the rail of the crib; she never spent more than forty-five minutes with his father. By 10:10 he could wait no longer and strode determinedly toward his father’s wing.

  As he turned into the corridor that led to his father’s suite, the door to Alistair’s rooms opened and Thomas stepped back, unseen, when he heard the old man’s voice.

  “Now, my dear, there’s no need to overreact like this.”

  He peered around the corner in time to see his father run his palm down Maggie’s cheek, blocking her expression from view. Hatred for the senior Forrester coursed through him. As she shoved Alistair’s hand away, he saw tears running down her cheeks.

  “You bastard!” she hissed. She slapped his father soundly and drew a trembling hand back to her lips as a look of horror replaced her anger.

  Thomas stepped forward, determined to protect her, but Alistair merely threw back his head and laughed. She turned in the opposite direction and ran down the hall sobbing, exiting at the far end to run heedlessly into the night.

  He clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing himself to remain in the shadows until Alistair returned to his rooms. The echo of arrogant laughter lingered in the hall.

  The moment the door closed, he sprinted silently to the door and slipped outside. He raced to the center of the expansive flower garden, looking for any sign of her as he strained to hear the slightest noise in the oppressive darkness.

  The faint pounding of footsteps reached his ears. He turned right and followed the sound into the darkness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lizzie ran blindly into the wooded area that bordered the estate. Branches whipped at her arms and legs, and caught in her hair, pulling it loose. Still she ran, stopping only when she collapsed against the trunk of a tall tree, sobbing.

  “Lizzie, my dear,” Alistair spoke soothingly, immediately increasing her wariness. “Something happened to poor Sam today. I must admit I find it ironic that such tragedy should strike on the day that you and my son tried to betray me.”

  Terror filled her heart and she swiped at the tears that flooded her eyes. “What hap—”

  “Enough!” He turned to gaze at the picture that hung behind his desk, stroking his goatee. “We will talk about Sam,” he declared, raising his brow in disdain, “when I am ready to talk about Sam. Right now, I want to talk about what was happening in that nursery.”

  He turned to face her, punctuating each angry word with the movement of his hands. “Did Thomas cover the camera on purpose?” When she stood silent, he towered over her. “Did he?”

  “Yes, all right, yes!” Her voice rose to a shout. “He knew about the camera!”

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gave her a hard shake. “Did you tell him?”

  “No—no! I swear. I didn’t even know where the camera was. I never even looked.” Her voice lowered as she tried to force out the words through her tears. “I would never endanger Sam that way. Never.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I should hope you would not be so foolish, my dear, but I fear that you do in fact harbor some insane idea that you can get the best of me. Of me! Alistair Forrester, a man who has proven his ability to exert the most exacting control over any circumstances.”

  He shook his head with exaggerated sadness. “I’m afraid, dear Lizzie, that Sam’s sad circumstance is in fact no one’s fault but yours.”

  The nightmare of that conversation played endlessly in her head as her sobs gradually gave way to shuddering breaths. She paced back and forth, uncertain what to do next. Alistair had made her wait in silence while he “considered his options,” before finally approaching her. He wiped the tears from her face while she stood there despising his touch, afraid to speak or move. “There, there,” he’d reassured her in mock compassion. “Little Sam is fine.”

  He’d told her that Sam had fallen at the playground and was taken to the emergency room for stitches. Nothing life-threatening, merely the kind of injury that might befall any young child. Then he’d warned her that the injury could have been much worse.

  Was it true? Had she endangered her daughter by trying to outwit Alistair?
For a moment she’d felt empowered by the growing understanding between her and Zach, but that had been a mistake. She had to face the truth. Sam was at the mercy of a soulless madman. Daniel had his father. Lizzie knew that Thomas would take care of him, no matter what. Sam had no one but her. Kyle, Aunt Sophie, Grant…none of them knew about the madman who’d kidnapped her family. Sam’s safety rested solely with Lizzie.

  Thomas. It was time she stopped longing for Zach and accepted the reality of Alistair Thomas Forrester Jr., a man who might never again be hers, but who could be counted on to protect Daniel.

  She moved with increasing agitation, tripping over a branch as tears blinded her once again. Damn it! Grabbing the thick branch, she swung it hard against the tree, striking again and again, oblivious to the pain that ricocheted through her hands. Finally, she sagged against the tree, exhausted, tears of defeat running down her face.

  As the sounds of night gradually penetrated her consciousness, she became aware of the pad of running steps. With an agonized cry she spun around, weapon raised.

  …

  Drawn by the sound of pounding and further panicked when the sound ceased abruptly, Thomas burst into the clearing and stopped, stunned by Maggie’s look of feral hate. He watched as the look of loathing gave way to utter despair. She raised a trembling hand to her face, leaving small traces of blood on her cheek.

  “Maggie,” he whispered.

  She flinched.

  Carefully removing the branch from her hand, he gathered her close, tucking her head against his chest. As she cried, he rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, honey.” Tears clogged his throat. “It’s going to be okay.”

  He lost track of time as they stood there, drawing comfort from the embrace. When her cries quieted, he pulled back to gently wipe the tears and blood away. He examined her hands in the moonlight, frowning at the small abrasions and bits of bark that covered her palms. Releasing a harsh breath, he looked into her eyes; she was so close that he felt her soft intake of breath as he brought his hand to her lips, caressing them with his fingertips.

  In that moment there were only the two of them, surrounded by the night. Slowly, giving her time to object, he lowered his mouth and kissed her, lips lingering, breath intermingled. Even as desire sparked between them, Thomas felt contentment.

  He was home.

  …

  Lizzie clung to Zach, pouring all of her love and heartache into this one kiss, knowing it might be their last. She moaned in protest when he ended the intimacy, but continued to hold her face reverently in his hands. “Talk to me, Maggie.”

  Maggie. Dear God, what was she thinking? She tried to pull back, but he slid his hands to her shoulders, holding her in place. “Talk to me,” he urged. “Damn it, what’s going on?”

  The terror of the past hour fresh in her heart, she shook her head. “I—I can’t—I can’t tell you.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  He looked away in frustration, then turned tortured eyes back to her. “You can tell me. Why are you here? As much as you love Ace, I know you’re not happy. You despise that controlling old man. You fear him. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.” When she remained silent, he pressed further. “Okay, you don’t trust me. I get that.”

  “Thomas…” Her voice broke on his name. “It’s not that…”

  “Hell, I don’t blame you. Sometimes I don’t trust me. I don’t even know who the hell I am.” Again he looked away, running one hand roughly through his hair, ashamed to admit this truth.

  “No.” She placed her hands firmly against his cheeks, turning him back to face her. “Don’t you ever doubt yourself. You just look at that little boy, see how he loves you, how he trusts you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember—that little guy knows exactly who you are.” She placed a kiss on his lips. “That beautiful little boy knows.”

  Swallowing hard, he rested his forehead against hers. “How about I start by trusting you?” He pulled back and searched her eyes before sharing his secret. “I’ve decided to take Ace and leave. This place, it’s stifling…unhealthy. I’m going to take my boy and run.”

  She remained silent, uncertain what to say. Yes, it was the right thing, but what about Sam? What would happen to her? Her mind searched frantically for a solution.

  She reached up to wipe away a small trace of blood she’d left on his face.

  “Maggie.” He swallowed hard. “You could come with us. Ace adores you…and I…”

  Raising trembling fingers to his lips, color draining from her face, she stopped him. “I can’t.”

  Disappointment flashed in his eyes.

  “Zach…”

  He laughed bitterly. “I understand. It always comes back to him, doesn’t it?”

  When she would have spoken, he continued, his anger evident. “Zach. Zach! I’m so tired of hearing his name. What kind of man lets his wife suffer like this?”

  “No, it’s not like that! You don’t understand.” She clutched the fabric of his shirt.

  “Then make me understand. How can you be so…so faithful to him in your heart when he abandoned you to this hell?”

  She closed her eyes and tapped her chin before staring at him with fierce determination. “You…” She swallowed and prepared to risk everything. “You…”

  “Thomas!” Desiree’s voice sounded in the distance. “Thomas, where are you?”

  Panic rushed through her. “She can’t find me here with you.” She pushed him away. “Go!”

  He hesitated. “We aren’t finished yet,” he said harshly, then turned to intercept Desiree before she discovered them.

  Lizzie trailed behind him, remaining in the cover of the trees as he moved out into the moonlight. Desiree glided across the lawn to throw herself into his arms.

  “Thomas!” She laughed, placing kisses all over his face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She stroked his face and even from a distance, Lizzie could see the tears sparkle in her eyes.

  “I told you I might have a surprise for you tonight. Oh darling!” She took his hand in hers and placed it against her flat stomach. “We’re…we’re going to have a baby. I’m pregnant!”

  What the hell?

  She was halfway out of the trees to confront Desiree about her lies—and the unacceptable location of her hands and lips—when fear for Sam stopped her.

  Slipping back into the shadows, she watched in disbelief as Zach stared at Desiree before finally touching her cheek as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

  Lizzie’s world shattered into myriad shards of glass that threatened to slice her no matter which way she moved. Once again, the time for truth had passed, leaving only the lies.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thomas drew back from Desiree, his lips burning where they’d touched her forehead, the kiss a frantic attempt to avoid her joy-filled face while he collected his thoughts and gained control of his rampaging emotions. His hand trembled against her abdomen.

  She was pregnant. He was going to be a father…again. This time at least he would know the mother, although he didn’t find this fact reassuring. And once again, he had no memory of his child’s conception.

  What kind of man fathered children by two different women in the same year? An irresponsible one. A self-centered one. One who had little respect for the role of a father, little regard for the sanctity of motherhood.

  “Let’s go inside and celebrate.” Desiree’s whisper drifted through the night air. She slipped her arm around his waist. He returned the embrace, and linked by her revelation, they strolled back toward the house.

  As they neared the mansion, his chaotic thoughts settled into determined resignation. He’d been a fool. Instead of trying to reconnect with his fiancée, a woman who was carrying his child, he’d been busy obsessing over Maggie, a woman who was not only emotionally committed to another man but also involved in some unpleasant business with his father. They entered his father’s home and continued, lockstep, toward her quarters.


  When they arrived at Desiree’s door, she turned to him. “Thomas, it’s been so long.” She ran her hands up and down his arms. “We’re going to have a baby together. Don’t you think it’s time we became reacquainted?”

  He remained silent for a moment, examining his life and finding himself lacking. It was time he honored his obligations. He stepped forward and pulled her close, pouring all his commitment into doing the right thing and all of his frustration into the kiss. He moved his hands down her back, along her hips, up her rib cage—the caressing motions of a man who desired his fiancée.

  Reaching behind her, Desiree opened the door to her suite and pulled him inside.

  …

  Lizzie spent most of the night in Daniel’s room. Even in the midst of her fear, the sight of her healthy, happy baby gave her a sense of peace. She tried to concentrate on his even breathing and block the memory of Zach taking Desiree into his arms. Picking up the photograph of him and Daniel that sat on the end table next to the chair, she smiled sadly, remembering the bittersweet moment on her second day at the mansion when he’d asked her to take their picture. Father and son.

  It was time to admit the truth. She couldn’t have her life back. Zach, whether he answered to Alistair Forrester Jr. or not, was an amazing father. He would take care of Daniel, protect him from the old man.

  And Desiree’s “pregnancy”? She’d agonized until the early morning hours before facing the truth. Right now there was nothing she could do about Desiree’s lie.

  She had to protect Sam. At last, exhaustion claimed her and she drifted into a troubled sleep, never leaving the nursery.

  She awoke early, fed Daniel, and waited, determined to survive whatever the day had to offer. When Zach arrived to spend time with his son, he was withdrawn, even cold. But when he took Daniel from her arms, his expression softened, although his eyes remained troubled.

  In spite of her best intentions, she could not watch him suffer in silence. She placed her fingers tentatively on his arm. “Are you okay?”