by Joanne Rock
“I went for a workout and a round of therapy for my leg.” The way he said it—stilted, somehow—reminded her that he’d never told her the circumstances surrounding the wound.
She sensed it all tied in with the nightmare.
“You can tell me all about it when we’re searching for the diaries tonight.” Maybe this time she’d distract him with readings from Chloe’s work.
“Is there a striptease involved?”
Her breath caught as her heartbeat sped up. “If that’s what it takes…”
“I’ve got one more stop to make and then I’ll be over there.”
She was wound up now, eager to see what would happen if she let her guard down again. He’d made her feel so incredible on the beach. And she’d had enough time to corral her emotions since the morning. She could handle this.
“You’re sure it can’t wait?” she asked, as breathless as if he’d just touched her.
“I’m stopping by Angelica’s house to see what she’s not telling about family members who might have it in for you. She knows something.” He lowered his voice. “If it was anything else, I’d blow it off and see you now.”
A smile warmed her insides. She liked that he had priorities.
“Are you sure you don’t want to let the police talk to her?” She agreed that Angelica had appeared as though she had something to share before they’d been interrupted when she’d brought the casserole. “They know we’re suspicious of the Ralston family.”
“But with the grandfather a city councilman and the father a prominent businessperson, I’m not sure how willing the police will be to rock that boat without more evidence.”
“You may have a point.” She sighed at the thought of waiting longer to see him. “Then I guess we’ll have to let the anticipation build.”
Heat washed over her skin as she imagined how hot things might get between them tonight.
Maybe she’d do a little prep on the erotica front by doing some reading before he arrived.
“I’ll be there soon,” he promised.
And even though a lot of people in her life had let her down on that score, she absolutely believed Brad when he said he’d show.
“I’ll look forward to it,” she purred through the phone, done with the sanding for the day.
SEXUAL URGES SURGED THROUGH him like adrenaline as he downshifted to exit the highway. He wanted to be with Nikki now. And he would damn well quiz her about that erotica dissertation to find out all the details. He’d learn what appealed to her most and then incorporate it into his personal repertoire posthaste.
He tried to shut down those thoughts as he arrived at Angelica’s house—her address as easy to secure as looking in the phone book. He drove up her circular driveway, parking in front of an imposing white Tudor home with two-story columns and shiny black shutters. The overpowering aroma of her rose-lined circular driveway, complete with a burbling stone fountain, reminded him of a funeral parlor. Even though it wasn’t his cup of tea, it was obvious this woman didn’t need Chloe Lissander’s house for any financial reasons.
The heavy brass knocker thudded loudly against a mammoth front door with glass side panels.
Within moments, a blonde teenage girl opened the door. She wore a red-and-white cheerleader outfit emblazoned with the word Chiefs. She looked him up and down.
“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling flirtatiously.
“Let’s start with you acting your age and end with you getting your mother.”
The teenager’s lower lip pouted. She strode down a gleaming marble hall screaming, “Ma!” He stood in the open doorway.
Angelica’s Ked sneakers, red this time, flashed down a curved mahogany staircase. She, too, was dressed in red and white. Her warm-up suit had Chiefs stretched across its front, as well.
“Lieutenant Riddock, so nice to see you.” She batted her lashes like a woman who’d had lots of practice. Like mother like daughter. “Won’t you come in?”
She led him across the two-story foyer into a bright room with floor-to-ceiling windows and yellow, floralpatterned couches. The scent of lemony furniture polish suggested a recent cleaning.
“I’m sorry that we can’t visit longer, but Emily and I have cheer practice.” Angelica lifted her chin. “I’m the coach.”
“This will just take a moment.” Brad would have his answers.
“I appreciate that. The competition to lead a five time National Division–winning cheer team is fierce, but we…”
Brad stared at her until she brushed imaginary lint from her pristine track suit.
She babbled on. “You can’t imagine the dirty doings going on behind the smiling hurdler jumps and basket throws. I mean we don’t use dagger hands for nothing.”
“The dirty doings going on with Nikki are the reason I’m here,” said Brad.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Angelica straightened.
“Mean-girl tricks might work in cheerleading, but they are not going to continue with Nikki,” he began forcefully.
“You don’t mean to suggest I threw that rock in her window?” Angelica held up her scarlet-tipped nails. “Do you really think I would jeopardize a hundred-dollar manicure?”
“No. But I think you have an idea who did. Scaring Nikki is going to stop. I expect you to tell me everything you know.”
Angelica’s eyebrows lifted as much as Botox allowed. “The fact that Chloe left her home to some random university professor is crazy. The house and its contents should stay in the family.”
Brad looked around Angelica’s far more lavish home.
“Your father is the most successful contractor in town, and your grandfather is a city councilman. Nikki said Chloe left your family her money, not that you need it. So why the opposition?”
“I’m sorry, I really need to go—”
“You need to tell me who is threatening Nikki.” He brought out the military don’t-eff-with-me stare. “This isn’t some adolescent game.”
Angelica’s eyes locked with his, her expression too frozen to read. The room was silent save for the whirring ceiling fan. Finally, she exhaled, shoulders slumped.
“Look. All I know is something I overheard between Grampy and Dad.”
“And that was…?” Brad urged, thinking a woman who took as much pride in her ruthlessness and competitive drive as Angelica did would throw her family under the bus in a heartbeat. But he still couldn’t imagine why she’d give a rat’s ass about an eccentric author’s ramshackle property.
“Something about some missing diaries and something that happened back in WWII.”
“Why would they care about that?”
“All I know is that Grampy served in the war, so I think it’s related somehow.” She pointed to a framed black-and-white photo of a young army sergeant above her mantel.
Brad’s mind buzzed. They wanted the diaries back because they revealed something that happened during the war? Something no one knew even now.
It had to be bad to warrant this level of interest. Had it been the kind of personal transgression that could break up a family? An unethical act that could taint a councilman’s political career?
“Did Harold serve in Alaska—on the Aleutian Islands?”
Angelica’s eyes widened. “Army Infantry. He was on Attu when American forces recaptured it. How did you know?”
Just a hunch. One that proved Eduardo and the councilman—one retired Sergeant Harold Ralston—had crossed paths on an infamous mission during WWII. Coincidence?
Probably not, unless of course, Angelica excelled at deflecting blame. In which case, she’d be sending him on one heck of a wild goose chase.
“Thanks,” he muttered to Angelica, showing himself to the door.
Brad threw himself in the Jeep and chewed up a couple of bushes in his haste to return to the house. Angelica might not be targeting Nikki to find those diaries, but someone in her family sure as hell wanted them. And without knowing what the stakes were for that per
son, Brad had no way of telling how far they would go to get what they wanted.
SHE WAS ALL ALONE.
Nikki felt almost guilty stealing outdoors in the late afternoon with the book of erotica in hand. What naughty intentions she had. But it was all Brad’s fault.
The man had a potent physical affect on her. She felt like a different person around him. Her senses had never been more alive. The sun warmed her skin in a full body caress. The scent of cut grass hung in the air with a sweetness that made her breathe deep.
A chittering from the chipmunk’s cage caught her attention, distracting her from her private destination point. She squatted for a closer look. The animal’s torn ear had healthy pink edges without sign of infection or inflammation.
“Guess it’s time for you to go, buddy.” Nikki hoisted the metal confine and carried it down to the wooded area behind the house. Beneath a wild cherry tree, she opened the cage and backed away.
The chipmunk hesitated, cowering in the back of his cage, but before long, the call of another chipmunk tempted him outside. Soon, he scampered about with two other friends, seeming to find his place in the world.
Leaving the cage behind, Nikki ventured deeper into the woods with her book. Once, Chloe had mentioned a private wildflower meadow that held special memories for her and she hadn’t made time yet to hunt it down since she’d inherited the home. She’d called it her secret garden.
Dense underbrush tickled Nikki bare legs as she hiked. Overhead, a woodpecker tapped a rotted tree, the hollow sound echoing through the woods. Gradually, the filtered light dappling her arms and face grew more intense. She burst into an open, fragrant space. Purple coneflowers, Queen Anne’s lace and black-eyed Susans rippled in a delicate dance with the breeze. Monarch butterflies flitted from bloom to bloom, their beauty as colorful as their targets. Nikki inhaled the floral-scented air and wished she could bottle the heady fragrance.
In the center lay a large limestone rock in varying shades of gray and brown. Perfect for sun-bathing.
She picked her way across the meadow and stretched out on the warm stone. Cloud puffs sailed across a cerulean sky as she cracked open the book and began to read. Erotica was so much more fun when it wasn’t the subject of scholarly dissection. Now, she could just imagine her and Brad in the place of the frolicking couple in her book. Her eyes drifted closed, lulled to sleep by the humming bees, warbling larks and rustling trees…
A soft caress against her cheek woke her. Brad’s lustrous blue eyes gazed down at her, his dimples creasing in an incredibly hot smile. Nikki brought his head down, kissing him long and deep. She groaned as his lips possessed hers, their stroking tongues tangling.
Grabbing his wide shoulders, she pulled him on top of her. The feel of his muscular torso, powerful legs and hardening erection made her moan. She slid his hands over her sensitive breasts, desperate for his touch. When she could no longer take the mounting tension, she guided his hand lower. She spread her legs, feeling the pulsing heat of the bright afternoon sun between her hips. He stroked her slippery softness with increasing speed until she screamed, the fierceness of her release waking her.
She bolted upright and shook her head. Brad was nowhere in sight.
An erotic dream. Her first.
Yet the dampness between her thighs suggested parts of her reverie had been very real. Her cheeks flushed at the memory even as she smiled. If she and Brad ever did work on something more long-term, she could at least envision how she might get through the deployments without him. The dream had been like having him right there beside her.
Not that she was imagining some rosy future, damn it. The thought was just that—a thought.
The tall grass flattened as she jumped down. She strode from the private paradise, eager to return home and start the search for Chloe’s missing diaries. After this and last night’s tantalizing experiences, Nikki un derstood better why Chloe had exhorted her to express her sensual nature.
Chloe had been a visionary—a woman before her time who’d embraced her passion rather than suppress it. Generations later, why did Nikki struggle to do the same?
She needed to learn what made Chloe so fearless. Understanding the source of her strength might empower Nikki to take an emotional risk with Brad.
In minutes she’d reached the porch, given the nearly healed blue jay food and water, and let Killer inside. She gave him a cold drink and bowl of kibble before taking the stairs two at a time. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she grabbed one of Chloe’s earliest diaries from a mahogany bookcase in the bedroom.
This one was an original, but Nikki wasn’t certain how many people knew it since Chloe had sewn the binding of a dry, nineteenth-century political treatise onto the journal. She hadn’t given Nikki the original diaries for her dissertation, but had assured her she’d have access to them after her death. And she’d been true to her word. Nikki has hoped to gather all the books before she sat down to read them as a set. But since she hadn’t found the others yet, maybe there would be a clue as to where the missing journals were located here.
The lowering sun glowed through her eyelet lace curtains in the master bedroom. No way was she reading this indoors when spring beckoned outside. She grabbed a pillow and blanket before climbing through the gable window. It was a slippery scramble across the slate roof to a flat widow’s walk encircled by an intricate, black iron fence.
Inside the enclosure, she leaned against the downy pillow and began leafing through the journal. Much of it was the same as the published, edited diaries she was already so familiar with. There were no references to Eduardo, the mystery lover, in this diary since it traced events prior to 1943. However, as Nicky leafed through the pages, a yellowed scrap of paper fluttered loose from the book. At first, she thought she’d found an old letter. But as she opened it, she realized she’d found a misplaced diary entry from one of the volumes they were missing.
The entry was dated April, 1943.
Dear Diary,
Eduardo’s last letter filled me with longing. He asked for letters to keep him warm, despite having left me too innocent to write such heated words. I have yet to reply, afraid my inexperienced scribbling will be all wrong.
Today, I stumbled upon the means to ending that ignorance in the most unexpected and pleasurable way. As usual, I finished my afternoon stroll at the secret garden meadow, picking a wildflower bouquet. I rested on the rock, the silent witness to our final tryst. The copper veins running through the gray stone reminded me of Eduardo’s bronzed skin. How it glistened in the sun when he’d doffed his uniform shirt!
He’d begged me to stop as I traced the firm squares of his stomach with a white daisy. I wanted to make him break his pledge to keep me pure until our wedding—a secret event I dare only share with you, Diary. How I wished to be that flower, especially when it dipped beneath his belt buckle. The effect was immediate. He sat up as if stung, breathing hard. How could a simple flower evoke such a powerful response?
Impulsively, I decided to recreate that moment, hoping to alleviate my yearning. I stepped out of my dress, unrolled my stockings and lay on the rock, twirling a wild red rose—the rest of my bouquet scattered around me.
My stomach quivered at the soft touch of the flower petals against my bare skin. No wonder Eduardo had gasped when I’d done the same to him. My pulse quickened. I traced the bloom up my rib cage and stopped, wondering if I dared go farther. I unhooked my bra, imagining Eduardo’s strong hands on my back. My breasts sprang free, as if seeking his touch. I blushed hot at the thought of him fondling them, cupping their heavy fullness.
I brushed the rose against each quivering nipple, pretending his fingers brought me this intense pleasure. A tightening began in my lower abdomen, tempting me to bring the flower lower where I wanted it most. As I rested it on my sensitive inner thighs, a loud groan tore the quiet country air. I was amazed the crude sound was mine! I inched the rose higher, eliciting another wail in the back of my throat. What a r
elief that Eduardo hadn’t witnessed me in such a state. Yet perhaps this is what he wants to hear in my letters after all.
When the silken petals brushed my most intimate place, it forced the breath from my lungs. Never had such fierce delight overtaken me. A deep, desperate craving for more instantly followed. I widened my legs and began tracing the flower along damp, tender flesh. Quickening pants erupted with every silken stroke. Eventually, the rose broke under the passionate pressure. Unable to stop, my hand took over. I imagined Eduardo’s touch instead of mine.
Within moments, exquisite release swept over me, shaking me to my very core. I shrieked in mindless bliss as tremors of ecstasy rippled through my womb. When the spasms ceased, I lay upon the rock as limp as a dishrag hung out to dry.
This, then, was how I’d made Eduardo feel on our last day together. What torture he’d endured! If I knew the frantic need such innocent actions created, I would have insisted we reach this fiery fulfillment together. I will not miss such an opportunity with him again.
I hunger for his return, ready to share these delights. Our time apart reminds me of the frenzied moments before today’s ecstatic release—full of pleasure, longing, need and desperation. Such tortuous feelings heighten the thrill of fulfillment. Separation will be the spice that sweetens our time together.
I must go and write Eduardo. My letter will be hot enough to melt glaciers! Let’s hope he keeps it safe from you-know-who. If my parents found out about Eduardo, they’d lock me in a convent—and undoubtedly ban me from the forest. Both would be terrible fates—for I have many fantasies to play out in the meadow until my love returns.
Good night, dearest Diary.
A secret wedding? Nikki wondered if it had ever taken place. Not once had Chloe mentioned Eduardo or any engagement. Had she hidden such a thing the whole time Nikki had known her? She took a deep breath and shuddered. Once more her life had strangely paralleled Chloe’s.
