“The moment the bitch heard about the stipulation. Tristan, they've been creating all kinds of stupid accusations against Julie. They want the money so badly. Paul should have kept that part of the will to himself, but the man's tongue is as loose as the skin on the cow's neck when drunk.”
“What does Paul think about all this? Is he aware of what Marla's doing to Julie?”
“Paul? Paul's an idiot. He only cares about his bottles and Marla. As long as Marla keeps his bed warm, everything that the witch says, he believes.”
“So, Julie's been on her own since her mother died.”
“Technically, since she was ten. Julie's mom worked like a dog, leaving Julie to her father's care, but the man would rather have nursed his bottles and cheat on Laura than give Julie his attention. That's why Julie became a troublemaker.”
Tristan wanted to find Paul and hit him hard in the face. He didn't deserve Julie. How someone could prefer a stranger to his own blood was beyond him. He'd seen enough children born out of wedlock, love, and lust to know what the children went through when their parents deserted them.
“Laura didn't hire a sitter for Julie?”
“Oh, she did, but Paul drove them all away. He's a freaking skirt-chaser. A creepy old man.”
Tristan's stomach began to sink. He felt like a cad for seducing Julie last night. She remained a virgin to keep a clean image, not to break the stipulation. Damn it to fucking hell, if he had gotten her pregnant, she'd lose everything she worked hard for to keep because of him. He scrubbed his face with his hands. Anger simmered deep down, his gut fired by his own stupidity. I shouldn't have touched her. Still, fuckin’ eh, he couldn't feel regret for what he'd done. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, you could say that again.”
Tristan looked up.
Kirsten misconstrued his meaning.
He wasn't referring to Paul, but his sister had no way of knowing that he made love with her friend without protection.
“Julie's a fighter, hough,” Kirsten continued. “That's why she's still living in that monstrous house—to prove to her mother that she can be responsible. Everything in that house is important to her. She's not going to let Marla and Sebastian, or anyone, take it away from her, which she knows the bastards would do in a hurry. They'll sell everything Julie's mom worked hard to collect. Julie's been making a great effort on keeping a clean image. She avoids men who follow her like her own shadow, avoids parties, and wears casual clothing all the time. So far, it's been working.”
Until he came along. Tristan groaned inwardly. Marla's arrival must have been a heavy load on Julie's dainty shoulders. His actions last night made it double. Ah, crap. What if Marla had Julie followed and saw them...no. He would have known. The hut was hidden from prying eyes. Unless someone was on the other island and used a powerful telescope, like the scientists used to look at the moon, no one could spot them in the hut from the distance.
“Did Julie say what evidence Marla has right now?”
“There are two things that worried Julie. She suspects Marla found out about her books.”
“What books?”
Kirsten held up the book she was holding. “This.”
Tristan directed his gaze at the cover of a woman in a white revealing gown with its neckline lowered, showing the rise of her breasts. She looked as if she was getting ready to get in bed. “Secret Desires of a Duchess by J. McAllister?”
“Julie McAllister. Julie used her mother's maiden name instead of her father's Parrish.”
“Julie wrote that book?” He'd seen Kirsten and Julie with their heads together, looking at the books written by the same author many times. No wonder. Julie wrote them.
“And other titles. All of them made it to New York's bestselling romance book list. If you read one, you'll know why Julie is worried.”
Tristan nodded. He picked up the book one time and thumbed the pages. He remembered reading a scene so explicitly detailed and well described he had to close the book right away because his cock reacted to the words fast.
“What's the other one that worried Julie?”
“She doesn't know yet. She said she'll call me, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen. She'll face Marla all by herself.”
“So how can I help?”
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Six
* * * *
The line of cars at Friday Harbor waiting for the ferry to Anacortes Ferry Terminal was so long, he wished he'd ask Gawain to fly him to Edmonds. Or Bors. At least Bors could use his badge to let him get in the ferryboat without waiting in line. Damn! If he was lucky, he'd make it on this trip, otherwise, he would have to wait here for another two hours.
A female voice came from the speaker indicating that the ferryboat would be loading in thirty minutes. Crap, he hadn't even bought his ticket yet. He was still five cars away from the tollbooth. Tristan opened his wallet and took out his debit card. He rolled down the window and waited as the cars ahead of him moved with the speed of slugs.
Julie should have consulted his dad about her situation. Dad would know what to do. He could have helped her. Who would have thought the easygoing and beguiling Julie was hiding a secret? Whatever baggage she was carrying, she hid it well. Tristan checked his watch. Julie's ferryboat left two hours ago. It would take an hour and a half for the ferry to reach Anacortes terminal. From there, Julie would have to drive ninety miles to Edmonds. She must have reached her home by now.
Times like these he wished his parents didn't live in the Orcas Island. He couldn't blame them though. With a place like theirs, anyone would bear the long ferry ride. Many people would spend a fortune just to get a small condominium in one of the San Juan Islands so they could relax and appreciate the scenery. Including him. His parent's property—an inheritance from his grandparents—sat on a prime lot. Dense redwood forest surrounded the area. They could hike, ride a bike or just drive around the islands to visit the rocky promontories and the tiny fishing villages. There were inlets to visit and the water offered bountiful schools of Salmon and Lingcod.
However, his favorite things to do were kayak early in the morning and watch the sunrise. There was nothing like watching a new day being born...like delivering a baby to the world. And the water. Not everybody was fortunate enough to experience gliding on the water while in the midst of cavorting mighty Killer Whales. Many times, he explored the coastal cliffs with rookeries of wildfowl and spied the majestic eagles soaring above.
With all of its greatness though, there was a downside to it. To reach the Seattle Children's Hospital, he must take the ferry or ask his brother, Gawain, to fly him to Seattle in one of the seaplanes. Carly hated that one fact. She hated anything that required staying hours in the car or ferries or airplanes. Although she once said to him that she didn't mind being in the airplane if their destination was Europe.
The car in front of him crossed the tollbooth. Finally, it was his turn to pay. A sour woman who took his card manned the booth. Tristan guessed she wasn't happy to get up this early. She puckered her lips and read his name aloud. “Tristan Knight. You related to Judge Arthur Knight?”
“It depends.”
“Aren't you a smart aleck one?”
Damn, he shouldn't ask, but he knew this woman would bug his conscience all the way to Edmonds and back. “Why are you asking if I'm related to Judge Knight?”
“Heard he's a good judge and is not partial to rich people. My husband and I have a foster kid and want to adopt her, but the system won't let us. The kid's been home hopping. Poor thing.”
Crap. Why did he pick this line? He noticed the cars started boarding the boat. Don't fucking get involved. Just say sorry and get your damn ticket. Hell. “How old is the child?”
“Four. The social service found out Nikki has family in Boston. They're rich, you see. And they want our Nikki because she's their cousin's daughter. They've been coming to my house trying to get her, but I'm
not letting them see Nikki. I am Nikki's mom now. We've been together since she was barely two years old. I can't bear to be parted from her.”
The woman's eyes misted. Obviously, she loved her foster child. Unfortunately, she must have to go through the whole rigmarole of adoption before she could lay claim on the child. “Uhm, Judge Knight would probably tell you this. The system—”
“'Ello!” A curly haired girl with a small upturned nose poked her head out the window.
“Hey there, princess.”
The girl giggled.
Dammit, what was she doing here inside the booth? Tristan gave the woman a reproachful look. “What is she doing here?”
“It's Bring your Daughter to Work day. Isn't that right, Nikki?”
“Uh-huh,” the girl replied.
Shit. Dad would kill him if he gave his direct line to this woman. Well, he'd face him later. Taking a business card out of his wallet, he gave it to the woman. “Call him. Tell him Tristan gave you his number.”
The woman's jaw dropped. Her eyes were as huge the pretty girl's eyes peeking through the window. “I don't know how to thank you.”
“No need. Just give me my ticket. I'm going to miss this boat.” He looked at the rearview mirror. The line was backed all the way to Timbuktu.
“No. You're not gonna. Lucky you. You're the last car to board. Go to lane one. It's open. Someone will meet you.”
Hot damn! I made it. “Thank you.”
Tristan took lane one. Sure enough, a man in uniform waving an orange flag was there. The man was smiling. As he got closer, the man motioned for him to lower his window.
“Mornin'”
“Hey there. Good morning. I was told to take this lane.”
“That's right, Sir Knight. My missus and I thank you for your help. Go on straight ahead.”
Ah, the woman's husband. Tristan nodded to the man and drove on. He was sure Dad would help the couple. Maybe the result wouldn't be to the couple's favor, but Dad would offer help.
Minutes later, Tristan sat in his car Parrish facing the water. When the boat started unloading passengers, he'd be the first to leave.
As soon as the ferry employee jacked the block behind his wheel to prevent it from rolling, he called his friend, Edmund who answered after the third ring.
“What's up, man? It's fucking early.”
“You have to cover for me next week. Tell Cindy to call my patients. She knows what to tell them.” Tristan actually cringed hearing Edmund's string of curses.
“What's going on? Finally fucked one of your patient's mothers and now you're running away?”
“Didn't know you're such an ass early in the morning.”
“Well, you forgot I've been an on-call at the hospital.”
“No, I didn't.”
“Then why did you fucking wake me up, bro?”
“To ask you to take my calls this week.”
“No way.”
“I have a very important thing to do that can't wait, Edmund.”
“Shit, man, what's going on?”
“Can't tell you the details yet. Come on, man, just give me a day or two.” The ferryboat's foghorn tooted.
“Fuck! Are you already in a ferryboat?”
“On my way to Edmonds.”
“So I can't say no then. Aren't you gonna miss the family spring reunion? Hot Julie's at your house, right?”
“No. She just left.”
Edmund laughed. “And you're in pursuit. Okay, I get it. This important business is about a very important woman named Julie Parrish.”
Tristan looked at the brightening skyline. Yeah, this woman was too important to him, to his sister, to his family. “It's not what you think, jackass. You know what Julie is to my family. So yes or no?”
“Fine. I'll take your calls.”
“Thanks, bro. By the way, Kirsten's lonely now that Julie went home. You might wanna keep her company.”
“You have other brothers. They can keep her occupied. Besides, your bratty sister doesn't like me.”
Tristan disagreed, but kept his mouth shut. “It's up to you, man.”
“What about Hot Pamela, bro? Saw her in town yesterday. Thought you guys have a date?”
“No.” Pamela was hot, all right. Hot to castrate him because of Julie. Tristan shook his head. Any woman would be furious if she found out the man she planned to sleep with was married to a pregnant wife and carrying a contagious disease. Gonorrhea. Except for the venereal disease, the joke that he was married to Julie, who was pregnant with his baby, left him smiling all day and night.
“You still there?”
“Yeah.”
“The redheaded beauty changed your mind? Can't blame you.”
He knew whom Edmund was talking about. “She's a pain.”
Edmund snorted. “Pain in your dick, you mean. You talk about her every day, doodle her name on your prescription pad and you have her picture on your desktop wearing just a lacy—”
“How'd you know about her picture?”
“Bro, we work together. Same office, same building.”
“She's Kirsten's best friend.”
Edmund yawned loudly on the phone. “And you've been having wet dreams because of her.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I'll tell your mom you need to drop a quarter in your curse jar. Okay. I'll take your shift, but you owe me, man.”
“Thanks, bro.” He ended the call, then dialed his dad's family line. Arthur picked up in one ring.
Tristan could hear the coffeemaker grinding. Dad was up. Good. In three short sentences, he explained about the ferry workers’ situation and why he left.
Arthur sighed on the phone. “Bring that young woman back here, son. I'll talk to her. Don't worry about Mrs. Belfry, I'll see what I can do.”
“Belfry?”
“Yeah. The ferry terminal employee. She called already.”
Hot damn! “Sorry, Dad. I didn't know she'd call you right away.”
“It's okay, son. I'm up anyway. Mom wants her coffee.”
Tristan smiled. If Arthur Knight's friends could only see him in his light blue pajamas, fluffy slippers, hair tousled, carrying a tray upstairs, they'd strip his tough judge suit in a hurry. He said his goodbye and tossed the cell on top of his overnight bag.
Through his windshield, he watched the sunrise slowly paint the horizon. What a great view. Too bad he didn't have anyone to share this view with. His mind drifted back to Julie. She'd appreciate nature's magic like this. A smile tugged each corners of his lips. What a lovely brat.
* * * *
Julie stepped out of the shower and reached for the green towel she hung on the rack. The tenderness between her legs was gone now, as if what had happened in the hut was but a dream. Her first time though, was real. She had sex under the stars with Tristan. She couldn't have asked for a better time to give up her virginity. When she would experience sex again, only time would tell.
Right now, she had a bigger problem to face. Feeling sluggish from her hot shower, she dried her body and forced her mind to focus on the task at hand—Marla, the evil stepmother. She wondered what she would lay on the table this time. Most likely an outrageous accusation. She pressed the towel on her eyes. Her head throbbed from thinking too much.
Good God! She hoped her books wouldn't cause her troubles. Writing was her only way to express herself freely, without leaving her house. Through writing, she could do things without fear, without inhibitions. Using her imaginations, she could live the life of a free woman.
Marla's insane obsession of ruining her just to get a hold of her mother's inheritance must end. This had been going on for far too long. She was tired of counting her steps, of making sure she wouldn't make any mistakes. How to end this though? By marrying someone like Armand? But the idea of marrying him without love was too bitter for her taste. She believed marriage should be bound by love, not money or a dire situation. Although, if she were honest with herself, the idea of m
arriage seemed plausible. It would be a one-sided marriage, yes, but she would be free from the will's binding.
Maybe Kirsten was right. If she gave Armand a chance, she might fall in love with him. She liked him already. During their meetings to talk about her mom's Microsoft shares, she found him pleasant company. He'd been an enjoyable coffee date, gentleman, polite, and with fantastic money market brains. And he loved her. He said so at least a couple times. But should she tell him the reason why suddenly she decided she would marry him? She should. If he loved her enough, he would understand. And if he didn't, perhaps he might agree to marry her and stay together for a month. After that, they would divorce and she would pay him handsomely.
One phone call could solve her problem. Call Armand. Give him a try. Julie glanced at the clock on her dresser. It was almost ten in the morning. Armand must be glued to his computer right now.
Eenie Meenie Minie Moe. Should I call Armand and tell him my dilemma or jump off the Aurora Bridge?
No. Jumping off the bridge wouldn't be good. Her death would mean hitting the jackpot for her father and Marla.
Dammit, why couldn't I be like Elizabeth Bennet of the famous Pride and Prejudice? Elizabeth was so lucky to find a man she loved and who loved her in return. Wouldn't it be nice if she ended up like her? But how? Her love life was shot. No prospects, with only one suitor she liked and saw as a good friend. Of course, there was one she wouldn't hesitate to marry if he offered his help. Tristan.
Dream on, Julie. The man was allergic to the word marriage. It would be a miracle if he showed up at her door ready to marry her. Gah! Of all the men to fall in love with, she fell for a man who was obviously still in love with his ex-wife, despite the pain she had caused him. He talked about Carly as if she were a goddess on a pedestal.
Julie took her cell phone from the dresser, composed a short text, then pressed send. Armand would call her back. He would probably come running here if she asked him to come over. He couldn't though. Having a man—visitor or a friend—could jeopardize her inheritance.
She would be honest with Armand. If he still wanted to marry her, despite her reason, they'd do it right away.
Wicked Knight Page 8
