FRAUD: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by R. C. Stephens

  “What?” I grinned. I was growing a little sleepy.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked as my fingers played in the sand.

  “Everything, but let’s start with your first boyfriend.” He smirked like he was going to enjoy this, and his earlier comment was almost forgotten.

  “Okay.” I threw my head back laughing. Why did he want to go back that far? “I was a cheerleader in high school.”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Very funny. Are you listening?”

  “Yes.” He gave me that gaze where he zeroed in on my face, his stare holding mine.

  “Okay. I had a huge crush on the quarterback. I dated him for a month, and he wanted to have sex so I dumped him,” I admitted.

  “Good! I’m proud of you. Holding on to your worth is important.” What a funny choice of words. I hadn’t thought I was worth much back then. I wasn’t sure if that had changed with the crap I was willing to put up with from Mark.

  “I was tough when I was younger, that’s for sure. After Andrew the quarterback, I dated Aidan for a year. I let him pop my cherry senior year,” I said, and a loud hiccup escaped me. “Shit! Not very lady lake of me.” I was too drunk to blush.

  “Popped your cherry . . . that sounds dirty out of that luscious mouth.” He laughed but his blue eyes heated. My thighs clenched together. I wanted his fingers to stop circling the sand and touch me.

  “What can I say?” I shrugged. “Who was your first?”

  I leaned over and fell into the sand, turning to face him on my belly. I knew it was cold, but my heated skin and the mix of alcohol in my system numbed me.

  “My first?” He tapped his lips—those perfectly full kissable lips. “Her name was Kate; we were in school together. We dated for a few months. I was in grade eleven. We broke up a few months later,” he said.

  “You took her virginity and dumped her?” I asked, a little flabbergasted.

  “No, she wasn’t a virgin. She took mine and dumped me.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. I held my belly. “This Kate doesn’t sound like a good Catholic girl.”

  “She definitely got around, if that’s what you mean. After that I dated a few girls then I enlisted.”

  “And what was the Army like?” I asked.

  “The Royal Navy,” he corrected. “I was eighteen years old when I enlisted. Mum had just died, and I had nowhere to go.” My heart hurt at his words. “My grandparents wanted to take me in, but I knew nothing about their upper-class life.” He leaned into the sand and pulled his gaze from me. “Mum . . . she swallowed a bottle of pills.” The air was sucked out of my lungs. I sat up quickly, straightening out my dress. “What is it?” He sat up too.

  I stood up and wrapped my arms around my torso, even being drunk didn’t take the pain away. I stared out at the ocean, taking in the roll of the waves, inhaling the scent of salt in the air. “My brother . . . he uh . . . he didn’t have an accident surfing. He committed suicide, in the ocean, during an international surfing competition. The competition was cancelled due to poor conditions. My brother was on drugs when he went into the deadly waters, not planning to make it out alive.” As I relayed the details of the day my brother died, I felt a familiar burn running through my body, like pain seeping through my veins, a venom poisoning my heart once more.

  Hayes stood too, but he didn’t come close to me; he just watched me like I was a wounded animal.

  “I’m so sorry. I know what that feels like, to have someone you care about not think their life is worthwhile.” He frowned.

  “My brother was clinically depressed. He had been on meds since he was a teenager. The ocean made him happy, maybe that’s why he chose to go that way.” I never really spoke about Matt.

  “Mum wasn’t well either; she’d been teetering on the brink for a while. My grandparents wanted to help her, but she was always too proud. Killed herself a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. I think she figured I was raised, and she did her job.” He shook his head and ran his fingers through his unruly locks. “When I enlisted I knew the danger I was putting myself in, but I didn’t think much about my life to actually care.”

  “What changed?” I asked. Either enough time had passed or this conversation was sobering, because I didn’t feel as drunk as before.

  “Facing death.” He laughed, but it was sad. “I enlisted after September 11th knowing my country was committed to the war on terrorism. I was proud to serve my country, on some level it made me feel good to protect our liberties, but on another I thrived on danger. That is until some of my buddies were killed in an ambush and shit got real. I suddenly didn’t want to die. If I died, how could I honor my mum? I was her only legacy.” My heart squeezed so tight I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I finished my tour and came home. Spoke to my grandparents who were only too happy to send me off to America to obtain my degree.”

  I took a step toward him and hugged him. With my arms wrapped around his waist, I questioned myself, but his arms wrapped around me felt good.

  “It’s pretty amazing that you’re working on your PhD.” I pulled away and swiped some stray tears from my eyes.

  “Thanks.” His smile seemed clipped.

  “What is it?” I asked. He clearly had something on his mind, and I didn’t know him well, but it felt like I did.

  “Would Matt want you living the way you are?” he asked, and my stomach sank. “I don’t want to upset you. I just . . .” He looked up to the sky. “The thing is, I believe my mum is looking down on me with a smile on her face. She was too proud to ask for help, but I wasn’t. With my grandparents’ help, I’m making something of myself.”

  I understood what he was saying. “My situation is complicated. I have two kids. I want them to have a sense of family, a mother and father. I want them to have what I didn’t.”

  “That’s commendable, but what is the cost for you?” He gave me a pained look. “I’m sorry.” He moved his head back and forth. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He smiled, pulled me in for a hug, and kissed the top of my head.

  I was starting to learn I was paying a high price.

  We stood quietly for a few beats. I let out a yawn, and a shiver crawled up my spine.

  “I can’t drive; I’m still too drunk. I think we need a hotel.” His lips tugged on one side. “I promise to be a complete gentleman, even if it kills me.” His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.

  His words reverberated in my chest. “Okay,” I agreed.

  It was easy to walk into one of the hotels on the strip and ask for a room. We used the winnings from the casino to pay for it. As we rode up the elevator, he remained on the opposite side of me.

  “I need to keep my distance. This is so dangerous what we’re doing.” He shook his head.

  My breathing was uneven and ragged. “Hayes.” I stepped toward him, feeling weak.

  “I will be the strong one here if I have to,” he said, stopping me with his words.

  “You’re right.” I brushed my hair behind my ear.

  When we got in the room, Hayes unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, and my mouth watered. Then he went for the belt on his jeans, and my gaze remained transfixed on him. I had to snap myself out of that before I made a mistake. We had gotten a room with two double beds.

  “I’ll take a quick shower. I have sand stuck all over me.” I disappeared as fast as I could into the bathroom. I locked the door and held on to the counter, looking at myself in the mirror. I was unrecognizable. I married Mark because I believed I was deeply in love. I never expected my life to turn out this way, but I knew I had to make a decision. I couldn’t continue living this way, feeling lonely, desolate. And my attraction and connection to Hayes didn’t help my cloudy brain. I took a quick shower and put on the hotel robe. At least its bulkiness covered my entire body. I’d sleep in the robe since my clothes smelled of sweat, cigarettes, and sand.

  When I walked
out of the bathroom Hayes lay in bed, the covers over to his torso. His hands relaxed behind his head. “You okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” I swallowed.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked as I climbed into the other bed and covered myself with the blanket.

  “I don’t know what happened.” I swallowed. “I mean with my life. I don’t know why Mark behaves the way he does. I’ve been on this bad roller coaster ride with him and I can’t get off. We have good weeks, and I crave the good weeks, but I know deep down that the dark weeks are coming. He’ll shut down and walk around angry.”

  “Have you tried calling him on it?” he asked.

  “I’ve tried. He gets really angry. He’d lash out at me, snapping then ignoring me. I don’t know what makes him so mad. When I show him I care, all he wants to do is push me away. There are so many things I don’t understand,” I confessed into the dark room.

  “And yet you still want to understand, and you still have hope that things will get better.” He continued my sentence as if he was in my brain.

  I winced. “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Because, Natalia, you are trying to save Mark. You can’t save him or make him happy. He needs to find that happiness within himself. What you are describing is typical. He’s projecting his mood on you, but you aren’t the cause of his mood. You have to understand that.”

  “I walk on eggshells around him. Scared of angering him. I was never that girl, Hayes. I always said what I thought.” A strangled laugh escaped me. “Goodness. How did this turn into a therapy session?”

  “It’s not a therapy session,” he retorted and whipped his covers off. “I’m your friend. It’s okay to share these things with a friend.” He climbed into my bed and got under the covers with me, holding me tight. My body went rigid at first. This was wrong; I was a married woman. I was also a lonely woman, and having him this close, wanting to touch me and console me even in a non-sexual way, felt too good to pass up.

  “I’m embarrassed . . . with the way Mark treats me and that I put up with it.” Hayes pulled me closer. Why was it so easy to share with him?

  “That isn’t easy. Holding such a heavy burden on your shoulders and having no one to share it with,” he said and pressed another kiss to my forehead. “I want you to share your thoughts with me.”

  “Okay, Doctor.” I giggled.

  “I’m serious, Natalia. You can’t float through life carrying everything on your own. You shouldn’t feel ashamed because you’ve done nothing wrong, but I get why you would feel that way. I felt ashamed too when my parents fought a lot. I felt ashamed when my mother kicked my father out and we had no money and no place to live. I was the only kid in my class working in order to help support a home at the age of fifteen. I didn’t have cool shoes or clothes. I know all about shame, Natalia,” he said, and my heart ached for a young Hayes.

  “That must have been so hard.”

  “I’ve worked hard to get where I am, but I also realized I couldn’t do it on my own. We all need someone to step up to the plate for us.”

  “And what about you?” I tilted my head to look at him. “Do you feel lonely? Sad?” I didn’t want our friendship to only be about him soothing me. I wanted to be there for him too.

  “Both of those.” He shifted a little so he could lean his head toward mine. “I’ve gotten used to being mostly on my own. I stay in touch with Gramps and Grams and Shay and Immy, of course. I’m okay. My schoolwork keeps me super busy. I don’t let the sadness or my loneliness swallow me whole like it used to. After the war I was messed up. A part of me can never forget what I’ve been through, but as time passed I had better days, and the better days outnumbered the shitty days. I also like spending time with you.” He looked to the space in front of him. He began to draw small circles on my arm. “You don’t need to respond to that.” He lightly chuckled. “I just like you. Like spending time with you. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  “Oh, Hayes, it means everything to me. These moments with you have . . . I don’t know.” I shifted on the bed. “These moments have kept me going, have given me strength to push through.”

  “Well, then that is good enough for me.” He grinned and the happiness touched his eyes, making them sparkle in the dark room.

  I sighed and lay back in the crook of his arm. Closing my eyes, I breathed in his soothing scent. When I was younger my parents gave me everything I needed. A private school education and nice clothes. They weren’t around much to shower me with love and attention. With Mark I began to feel like maybe I was a hard person to love, or maybe my expectation of love was just too high because I was so lacking in it. Only in Hayes’s arms I felt cherished and cared for. My soul, which had felt dark, didn’t feel so heavy. Smiling into the dark hotel room, I wanted to drown in this moment and never let go, but like all good things I knew this would come to an end.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Natalia

  When Hayes dropped me off at my hotel the next morning, something shifted between us. He held my chin in his hand and gazed into my eyes. “I’m going to really miss you,” he said, and my heart ached.

  “Me too.” I felt the threat of tears while my chest stung at the impending loss of him.

  “I know it’s hard for you to be in touch. Just know I’m thinking of you, and if you need me, I’m here.” He gave me a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes, showing me this was just as hard on him.

  “Thank you. It means so much to me.” I bit my lip, wanting to kiss him passionately and rip his clothes off. I wanted him to claim me. Instead I held back and swallowed hard.

  “You’re strong. You’re going to be okay.” If only he was right. Still his words burned a path to my soul as if he knew exactly what I needed to hear.

  I exhaled sharply then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “I should go.” I turned to leave the car, wearing the same dress I’d worn last night.

  He nodded, looking like it hurt him to speak another word. My own heart was breaking. As much as I wanted him coming to my hotel room, he meant more to me than an affair. My life needed to be sorted out and his support meant everything.

  I left the car quietly. When I returned to my hotel room, I allowed myself to cry, hard. It felt cleansing. I couldn’t go on living my life like this anymore.

  Mark surprised me at the airport with the kids. My agent told me the signing was a success. Atlantic City felt like a dream. It was early evening when we made it home and Mark suggested take-out for dinner. He even bathed the kids, urged them into their beds, and read them a bedtime story. He hadn’t done any of those things since Lily was a baby. My mind drifted back to those days. I’d been diagnosed with post-partum anxiety. It was different than depression because I wasn’t sad; I was entirely too anxious about hurting or doing something wrong to the perfect human I’d created and carried for nine months. Mark had been supportive then, making it home on time to give Lily a bath since I was terrified to bathe her.

  It was only years later when I was pregnant with Liam and needed different help because of my health issues that Mark snapped one day and said he didn’t have time for all my problems. It was my fault his business failed, because I couldn’t manage taking care of a newborn baby on my own. It took me time to settle into motherhood, but the moment I settled that was it. I did everything I could for my children. I was a good mother, I knew that. The kids and I had truly developed a rhythm of our own. All of it without Mark. That was the sad part.

  Tonight, I wasn’t going to question my husband’s motives for making an effort. It felt nice eating out of cardboard containers on the family room rug. Mark had been in a playful mood, and warm laughter bubbled out of my children as their father spent quality time with them. The sense of family I always craved was present and welcome.

  “Kids are asleep.” He smiled, leaning on the post of our bedroom door. His smile was lazy and his chocolate brown eyes were liquid as he took me in,
lying back on the headboard. I placed the book I was reading on the side table and waited, unsure what to expect from him. He slowly stalked toward me, his torso moving with each slow deliberate stride. He wanted me, but I had to call him out about his father. He must know his father was living on the streets and not at home with his mother. If I said something, we would fight and there would be tension. I probably wouldn’t get any answers. At that moment I hated myself for thinking this way. Hayes thought I was strong, but I wasn’t. I was a weak woman. That knowledge sent me spiraling into a tornado of self-deprecation. Somehow during my pit of despair, I convinced myself I should let Mark seduce me. After my weekend with Hayes, I felt better. We hadn’t crossed a line, but I needed to be with my husband to cleanse away any guilt. It didn’t make complete sense, but it was how I felt. My heart galloped in my chest as my husband stalked toward me, wanting me. The man I loved, the father of my children. Maybe being away made him realize he wanted me. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

  He shifted on the bed, hovered above me, and kissed me slowly. My arms wrapped around his neck. With bated breath, his tongue stroked mine, making me want more. It had been over four months since we’d had sex, maybe longer, and I was craving it especially after being so turned on by Hayes this past weekend.

  Mark made an effort, knowing what I liked, kissing me all over with a fervor I hadn’t felt from him in ages. Only that old spark I used to feel was dimmed, and it only felt all right. He kissed me like he meant it, rolling his tongue with mine. Reaching down and kneading my breasts. I tried not to let my mind wander to Hayes, but as Mark ran his finger back and forth over my sensitized nipples, I pictured Hayes touching me, and a spark of lust shot between my thighs. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, and I pulled mine over too, leaving me naked in front of him. I squirmed a little, feeling self-conscious as he ran his hand over my breasts down my torso and between my legs. Closing my eyes I thought how messed up it was that I couldn’t look my husband in the eyes during sex.