FRAUD: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by R. C. Stephens

  Hayes walked over to me and ran his hands up and down my arms. It was comforting; I knew I would be hungry for his touch. I craved touch like I would water if I had been stranded in a desert, and I had been stranded in my own secluded desert too long.

  “I’m not leaving you alone. We can grab a coffee. I’ll only be gone a moment to tell them I’m leaving.” He bent his knees a little so that we were eye-level.

  I nodded.

  “Wait here?” He acted as if he was scared I’d take off.

  “Okay.”

  Where Mark sent my mind into a tailspin, Hayes put me at ease.

  A few moments later, he came out the doors in the leather jacket he had on earlier with a pair of aviator sunglasses. He looked good enough to eat. Shit! What was wrong with me?

  He took my hand again, and we walked down the street. This time the hand holding felt soothing, normal.

  Hayes didn’t ask any more questions, which I appreciated because I needed my mind to catch up to what had happened and what it all meant. After about ten minutes of walking, we seemed to be on a nicer street with a café on the corner block.

  We walked in, and he asked me what I wanted then told me to find a table. I found a table off to the side by the window that I thought would provide some privacy.

  “Cappuccino for you. And I got us some cannoli. You have to try it, it’s the best here.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” I replied, even though I was too nervous to eat.

  He took a seat beside me instead of across from me, overwhelming me with his delicious scent. The same feeling I got in the pit of my belly when he was this close, returned with a vengeance. I wanted to believe I was lashing out because my husband repeatedly lied to me, but I knew this was real and had nothing to do with revenge.

  “What happened?” he asked, his tone even and thoughtful.

  Would it be weird to confide in him about my marriage? In a way I already had. I’d had more intimate conversations with him than I did with Immy, and she knew a lot of my secrets.

  “In order to explain I need to backtrack a little.” I brought the cappuccino to my lips and my hand was shaking. After I placed it back on the table Hayes took my hands in his and just held them there while one of his thumbs stroked the back of my hand soothingly.

  “Take a breath, Natalia. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” His words just about gutted me. I tried to remind myself that he was very close to finishing his PhD in psychology. He knew how to deal with people who were excessively stressed out. Only the way he looked at me intimately didn’t make this feel like a therapeutic session.

  “Before I left Florida, I found out some things about Mark.” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath before opening them again. “One of his sisters is estranged from the family. I called her to ask some questions. Things weren’t adding up. Mark had been pulling away from me over the years and he . . . well we kept falling deeper into debt. I had to know more about his past so I could understand him. I didn’t mean to go behind his back,” I said apologetically.

  “It’s okay. He’s given you reason to question his behavior, and he doesn’t want to provide answers. I understand; go on.” He still held my hands, which were warm and clammy from my nerves.

  “She told me all these messed up things about Mark’s family. How he and his siblings were abused by their mentally ill father growing up. Mark had a sister who died in a drowning when they were young, and his sister basically told me the father was responsible, but that Mark was in the water and witnessed it, her drowning.” Hayes dropped my hands on the table. His chair jerked back a little, and he seemed troubled.

  My heart dropped to my stomach, wondering why he’d pulled away from me like that. “W-What’s wrong?” I stammered. He ran his fingers through his hair. He looked troubled, a little distraught.

  He swiped a hand roughly over his mouth.

  “Fernando.”

  It was like there was a common understanding between us when he spoke again.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Fernando has dissociative identity disorder, or better known as multiple personality disorder. He’s come into the soup kitchen on more than one occasion talking about the water, or the ocean; he’d mention an accident and a young girl drowning. One of his personalities is named Gus. He blames Gus for the girl’s death.” He inhaled sharply. “You think Fernando is Mark’s father,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “I know Fernando is Mark’s father. I met him before. Only once, but I also have a picture of him back home in my media center. I’ve seen that picture every day for years. And Mark’s father’s name is Fernando Lopez. I mean . . .” I shook my head at the craziness of the situation. “When I looked at him closely, he looked an awful lot like Mark’s dad minus the dirty clothes and yellow teeth.”

  “Okay.”

  “When I called Mark out on everything his sister Bella revealed to me, he told me she was a liar. Bella told me her father took off one day about seven years ago, and her mom hasn’t heard from him since. When I called Mark out on it, he told me Bella was a nut and his father lived at home with his mother.”

  “That’s why you startled the way you did. Fuck, Natalia.” He shoved his chair back, stood up, walked over to me, and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m so bloody sorry,” he whispered in my ear.

  Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I held them back. “My life is really messed up right now. I’m sorry.” I swiped at a tear that got away and laughed. “You probably weren’t expecting this craziness when you offered me a ride from the airport, huh?” I picked up a tissue to blow my nose.

  “We’re friends. Friends are there for one another,” he said.

  “Friends? Is that what we are?” I looked into his eyes.

  “You remember the night I drove you and all of Immy’s friends home, and I was kind of feeling like shite?” he asked me.

  I shouldn’t remember that memory so clearly, but I did. “Yes.”

  “You told me to text you if I ever needed to talk. You wanted to be there for me.” He reminds me of my completely inappropriate suggestion.

  “Yes . . . well, you never did text me,” I answered.

  “I didn’t want to get you in trouble with your husband. If we’re being honest here, we can both admit there’s an attraction between us.” He gave me a pointed look. Every word he spoke was true.

  “Hayes, I can’t cheat on my husband. I can’t be that woman. I don’t want to be.”

  “I know.” He took one of my hands again.

  “My father cheated on my mother. I . . . I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to hurt my family and children because I’m selfish. Because I want to feel good,” I said adamantly.

  Hayes’s smile turned endearing. “That makes me like you even more. I regretted so much telling you I wanted you when I was in Florida the first time we met. I knew you were better than that. I was in a dark place back then. I was only a year out of the Royal Navy. The transition to civilian life wasn’t easy. I missed my mum. My life was pretty shite, and I was going through a ‘fuck all the repercussions’ phase. I behaved abominably, and I’m sorry. You deserved better than that from me.”

  “You knew before I did that Mark didn’t treat me right.” I rolled my eyes and took a sharp breath. Who knew what else my husband was hiding?

  “I don’t know that. I saw how he neglected to care for you at the party Immy had for Lewis. The way he treated you irked me. I imagined what type of man behaved that way, and I thought of my own father. I don’t know that I knew anything. I was projecting. I was in a bad place, like I said.”

  “And now? Are you doing better?”

  “A lot. I used to be terrified of becoming an alcoholic when I wanted a drink. It was an unreasonable fear. I would want to go out with friends or possibly drown my sorrow in a bottle for a night, but I thought if I gave into temptation, I’d be like my father. I don’t have that fear anymore, and I’m working on not blaming my
self for my mum choosing to kill herself. For a long time I believed I missed something, perhaps I could have gotten her more help. I know now that wasn’t the case. School and learning . . . working with patients, it’s been good for me. I’ve learned so much. I’m happy. My mind is settled. Things aren’t as dark as they used to be. It’s a cliché to say, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.”

  I pressed my lips together, hoping it would form a smile. “Yeah, I think I’m pretty far away from the light now. I’m so confused.”

  “Are you going to call Mark on it? On finding out about his father, I mean?”

  “For a long time I was scared to confront Mark. I lived in this quiet and accepting bubble until I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Problem is, when I confront him, nothing changes and I don’t have any more answers than when I first started. I don’t know how he does it. He’s like a master manipulator.”

  “You aren’t in an easy situation, but I see your strength. You’re going to be all right.”

  I sagged into my chair. “Most days I feel so weak. I question everything about myself. How did I managed to get involved with a man like him? There must be something wrong with me.”

  “What was your relationship with your parents like?”

  “Huh! Has this turned into a therapy session?” I squinted my eyes accusingly and gave him a small smile.

  Hayes chuckled. “Fuck. Okay. We won’t go there. It’s just sometimes our past relationships can dictate future ones.”

  “Okay. Fine. My mother put me down a lot. Everything I did growing up seemed to be wrong. Both my parents worked all the time and had little time for my brother and me.”

  “There you have it. You have to find your own self-worth. You have to know your word means something. If you decide to call Mark out on something, stand your ground. You’re an intelligent woman. Have faith in your decisions. That’s all I’m going to say because you’re right, I’m sounding very much like a therapist.”

  “You’re sweet. Thank you. You have no idea what those words mean to me.”

  “I think I do.” He placed his hand on the table. “How about we get out of here?”

  “Sounds good. I need to burn off some energy,” I said, then I wanted to bite my tongue.

  “Oh, Natalia.” Hayes grinned devilishly and I fake punched him in the stomach.

  “Don’t even go there.” I snickered, and we left the coffee shop. Even though we set the parameters of what this relationship would look like, I knew the attraction between was like a ticking time bomb. I only hoped we wouldn’t set anything off this weekend.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Natalia

  It was Friday night and I had just gotten back from eating dinner with my agent. We had a good business talk about what the publishers were looking for. Since my book was going strong they wanted me to pitch another book only I didn’t feel like I had another book in me. A Birthday Wish had been about my journey of self-discovery, a way for me to purge what I had buried deep inside for so long. I enjoyed writing, but becoming a veterinarian had always been my passion.

  I’d gone back to my room so I could call the kids and check in with Mark. Since learning about his father I felt less comfortable about leaving him home alone with the kids. I tried to rationalize my fears away by thinking how much he truly loved them and despite everything would never do anything to harm them.

  After I learned the kids were great and Mark was fine, I went to the hotel bar and had a few drinks. I thought about calling Hayes and maybe heading out for a night on the town, but I was tired after walking around all day sightseeing. Besides Hayes mentioned having classes today and some tutorial job he had working for a professor. I also wanted to look fresh for my first signing that included a meet and greet and an interview at the book store.

  The three mojitos at the hotel bar hit me a hard. Once I made my way back to my room, I fell back on the bed and flipped through the television channels. I was restless. What was I going to do about Mark and his constant lying? When I thought of the kids my chest hurt. They seemed happy over the phone. They were laughing as they told me about all the candy they’d been eating. My cell phone lit up on the nightstand beside me. Hayes’s name was bright and bold on the screen, and my heart raced.

  Hayes: Hello Beautiful

  Hayes’s simple message did things to my insides whether he had intent or not. I took a slow breath.

  Me: Hi

  Hayes: How are you doing?

  Me: I’ve had one too many Mojitos.

  I was more than tipsy and probably shouldn’t have answered the message. We had set boundaries for our relationship yesterday. Nothing would happen between us, but that could only be ensured if we stayed away from each other.

  Hayes: That is interesting.

  His words made my belly flip. No. No. No.

  Me: What are you doing?

  I had to ask. It was part of my role as friend.

  Hayes: Just had to finish up some work. Home now.

  Me: Nice. I never went to grad school. Wish I did.

  Hayes: It’s never too late.

  I sighed.

  Hayes: How about fun. Are you up for some?

  Me: I haven’t had fun in a long time.

  I’d pressed send then read the message. Crap! That came off sounding wrong.

  Hayes: Tell me more . . .

  Shit! Crap! Shit!

  Me: That’s not what I meant. I meant I’m busy with the kids all the time. I don’t get to go out.

  A moment later my phone rang and Hayes face lit up my screen.

  I smiled and answered.

  “Hello.” I put him on speaker since I was alone in the room.

  “Hello, yourself.” His British accent came through the phone, making my chest feel warm.

  “Now let’s talk fun, Natalia.” He paused and my mind raced with too many inappropriate thoughts. “I know you’re busy tomorrow. How about tomorrow night?” He waited while I contemplated. I knew deep down what my answer would be.

  “I don’t have plans.”

  “You sound unsure.” He chuckled.

  “I am,” I admitted, internally blaming the mojitos.

  Hayes laughed, his voice gravelly and oh so sexy.

  “I’ll pick you up around seven then,” he said.

  I didn’t answer. I had so many questions for him. I wanted to know if he had a girlfriend. It was completely inappropriate because I had a husband. I had no right to ask, and we’d just set boundaries. But had we? The way he was holding my hand in his was intimate.

  “Natalia”—his accent came across heavier—“if you have something to ask, don’t be shy.”

  I laughed nervously. “I’m not sure what to ask.” I fingered a loose tendril of my hair.

  “Right then. Tomorrow. Seven. Dress for an evening out.”

  His words eased my mind a little. I don’t know why. I had fantasized what sex with Hayes would be like. I’d written about it in a book but never in a million years had a plan to carry it out. It was good he planned to take me out to a public place because there was less chance of getting into trouble.

  “Tomorrow then.” My own voice turned husky.

  “Goodnight,” he said, and the call ended.

  I fell asleep dreaming of Hayes. I may have gotten myself off to thoughts of him, but it wouldn’t be a first. What changed was I had a vision of the man he had become whereas before I remembered a sweet guy barely out of his teens and made things up as I went along. Problem was he was so much better than any fantasy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Natalia

  The book signing was exhilarating. There had actually been readers in a line, waiting for me to sign their books. Even with all that exhilaration, I couldn’t wait for seven o’clock. After the signing I packed up and rushed to my room. I was starving, so I ordered room service. I took a long hot shower and shaved everything. It was crazy. There was no way I was going to have an affair. I just wanted to feel sexy,
and having smooth skin and the time to actually shave made me feel that way. Still I opted for my basic white cotton underwear. They were unattractive and a reminder that nothing was going to happen tonight.

  At seven I took the elevator down to the lobby, wearing a simple form-fitting black dress that hugged my curves and a pair of black stilettos that showed off my long legs. I told myself I didn’t put in this much effort for him. It was a lie. With a faux black leather jacket draped over my arm and my purse on my shoulder, where I conveniently remembered to put a pair of ballet flats just in case I wanted my outfit to have a more casual look, I left the elevator with a long and cleansing exhale.

  Shifting my blown out hair over my shoulder, my gaze lifted toward the lobby. He was standing tall and handsome as ever. Curly locks falling on his face, blue eyes searing a path down my body. Dressed in a pair of distressed blue jeans and a black button-down shirt that hugged his very muscular chest and arms, he looked like a GQ model. A pair of black boots completed the outfit. His hands were stuffed into his front pockets, and my heart stammered in my chest. Taking a steady breath, I walked over to him.

  “You look beautiful, Natalia.” He leaned in and gave my cheek a peck, and the scent of sandalwood and citrus drifted my way. Blinking, I snapped myself out of a haze, worried if someone spotted me, but it was paranoia; nobody knew me here. Yet, guilt managed to crawl its way through me like a parasite even for a simple, fun night on the town.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” I answered, feeling warm and tingly everywhere. I’d forgotten what it was like to have a crush, and with Hayes everything felt heightened. He gave me his arm, and we walked through the hotel doors into a windy New York evening.

  Back in his jeep, we settled in. “Bloody hell, your legs go on forever,” he said and bit his knuckle.

  “Hayes . . .” I immediately felt the need to respond, my tone scolding.

  He held up a hand. “My apologies. I intended to be a perfect gentleman tonight.” The tense he used didn’t fly past me.

  “I just—”