Husband Heel (Husband Series Book 3)

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Husband Heel (Husband Series Book 3) Page 5

by Louise Cusack


  Immediately my pulse slowed into a soft thudding of apprehension, and although it had been weeks since the death-threats, they suddenly came back into my mind, blocking everything else out.

  “On whose authority?” I asked, my voice faint with dread.

  Marcus’s sister was in charge of his medical treatment since he’d been deemed unable to make decisions for himself, but there was no reason for her to move him away from the hospital where he could be treated by the best psychiatrist in Sydney.

  Papers ruffled for a few seconds before the nurse said, “Dr. Malone.”

  I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “Marcus is under the care of Dr. Janke. Is Dr. Malone his locum?” I stared at the bookcases on the opposite wall, with a growing sense of something not right.

  “I’ve never heard of Dr. Malone,” the nurse said, a pretty redhead who I knew well from my visits to Marcus. “But his paperwork is here in the file. Although…” There was a pause. “I can’t see what hospital he was transferred to. Which is odd.”

  Prickles of ice-cold dread broke out across my body. “When did Marcus leave?” My voice sounded flat and disembodied in my own ears. All I could think about was the fact that his sister had cancelled the bodyguard at the hospital, deeming it no longer necessary.

  “Last night. At 8pm.”

  “Thank you.”

  I put down the phone and slapped a hand on my chest, but it was several disorienting seconds before I remembered that I wasn’t wearing my alarm pendant. It was in the Bentley. So I got up to run to the gym but the display on the screen showed the second white dot was in The Quarters.

  Nicholas must have finished exercising, so I ran to the back door and punched in the code to open it, then uncaring of Nicholas’s decree to stay inside the house unless I’m with you, I ran out across the veranda and down past the pool to The Quarters, coming to a stop at the timber front door which I banged on with the heel of my fist.

  “Nick!”

  It took agonizing seconds, during which time I wanted to pound on the door, but finally it wrenched opened and he stood in front of me wearing jeans and holding a gun.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His hair was wet and I could smell something—soap or shampoo—but it only distracted me for a second. “Marcus,” I said, and found that my teeth were chattering.

  “Are you safe?” he asked. “Lizzie?”

  “Yes. Yes.” I was locked into his gaze again, but this time it wasn’t disconcerting. It felt like security. “The hospital. He’s been taken.” I couldn’t seem to create complete sentences, but Nicholas didn’t seem to notice.

  He ducked back inside and grabbed his leather vest, then with the gun holstered against his calf again, he walked me to the house while I relayed the information I’d been given in breathless snatches. When we were inside the house with the door locked securely behind us, he grasped my shoulders, firmly enough to register over the numbness that was spreading through me.

  “Louella.” His voice was overloud, and that cut through the buzzing in my ears. “Breathe slowly. I need you to calm down.” He stared deep into my eyes, mesmerizing me into stillness.

  I swallowed and nodded, a jerky movement, unable to rail at his patronizing tone because I was losing control. Again. “I’m…scared.”

  “I can see that. But your husband needs us—” Ex-husband. “—so you can’t fall apart right now. I don’t have time to muck around with kittens. Do you understand?”

  Outrage rose and fell within me. The Louella I had been an hour ago would have sacked him on the spot for such breathtaking arrogance. But his calm, measured gaze told me quite clearly that he was trying to shock me deliberately. And it worked.

  I nodded shakily. “What do I do?”

  “Phone his sister. See if she has information. I’ll call in help.”

  “But not the police.” The whole point of having private security had been to avoid any chance of Marcus’s reckless personal debt being leaked to the media. He was a banker. His companies would be ruined if people questioned his financial acumen.

  Nicholas’s hands fell off my shoulders. “If this Dr. Malone doesn’t exist, then yes, I’m phoning the police.”

  When that had sunk in, I nodded. “Alright. I don’t care about the cost. I want Marcus safe.”

  “I can see that you do.” He was very still then, inside and out. I had no idea what that meant, but it dropped me into a deeper awareness. I suddenly noticed that his vest was unbuttoned. I’d never seen his bare chest before today, or his stomach, which had muscles as honed as his biceps.

  The buzzing in my ears was swept away then by heat that flushed over me—completely inappropriate in the circumstance, and I swallowed again, in a suddenly dry throat.

  I heard Fritha’s voice in my head You’ve got the hots for that toyboy of yours, and as my confused gaze struggled back up to meet his, I felt a slow, deep throbbing that had always been there, only now I could hear it.

  I swallowed again. “I’ll ring his sister.” My voice was so husky I barely recognized it.

  “And put on the pendant.” He nodded at my throat which was conspicuously bare. Then his gaze dipped, only for a second, to my breasts encased in the black and white floral dress.

  Without another word, he turned and walked off, and I had to put a hand out on the chair beside me for stability. But only for a few seconds before I went into the library and phoned Adele who—as it turned out—was in Paris for work until the end of the week.

  She knew nothing of the changes, so I kept my anxiety to myself and told her I’d chase up the details and get back to her. She was only twenty-five, a full fifteen years younger than her brother, and knew nothing about his debts or the frightening men who were demanding payment. There was zero value in worrying her until I had some facts.

  By the time I ended the call, Nicholas was back in front of me. “There is no Dr. Malone psychiatrist. I’ve rung the police. They’re on the way. Where is your pendant?”

  He sounded irritated—which I’d never heard before—and my reactive instinct was to calm him down by going to get it. Instead, I remained in my seat, determined to regain some control over my emotions.

  “It’s still in the Bentley. I assumed my call to Adele was more important.” I let that sink in before I added, “She knows nothing. She’s not even in the country.”

  He nodded and glanced away, displaying subtle signs of agitation, that again, I’d never witnessed. “I’ve called someone to come and look after Lizzie in case we need to leave.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded to himself. “We should have retained the guard at the hospital.”

  I let a few beats of silence pass before I said, “No one could have guessed that they’d—”

  “I should have guessed,” he cut in, still not looking at me. “It’s my job to—”

  “Your job is to secure my safety,” I reminded him. “Not my ex-husband’s.”

  His gaze swiveled around to meet mine and out of nowhere the throbbing started up again, low and insistent. He stared at me a moment longer before saying, “I’m too far away from you in The Quarters. I need to move into the house.” His voice was soft, determined.

  I nodded, and whatever angst I’d harbored about keeping him away from Lizzie faded. It was very clear in that moment that my safety was his first priority. I’d barely considered the idea of physical harm, about the threats toward Marcus turning into anything tangible. But now I did.

  I swallowed and said, “Very well.”

  “I’ll get my things and transfer the surveillance equipment across. I’m sleeping in the bedroom next to yours.” His gaze challenged me then, as if he was preparing to argue for safety over propriety, but the sensation of inevitability that I’d been feeling all day washed over me again.

  “You know what’s best.”

  He stared at me for another few seconds before he abruptly left.

  I felt anchorless then, an
d I looked around the study, at the shelves filled with books—everything from Chaucer to Asimov—priceless first editions behind glass and well-thumbed paperbacks that had belonged to either Marcus or I. So much of us was in this room, in this house, and that had comforted me while I’d been letting him go emotionally, giving me a sense that there would always be a piece of Marcus left in my heart and in my life.

  Despite what he’d done to me.

  But if he was dead…

  I’d faced that once already when he’d been admitted to hospital with an overdose of pills. But we’d moved past that and I’d told myself he’d get over his emotional instability. I’d get over mine. But this morning I’d physically harmed a young man. Last night, someone had taken Marcus from the hospital because of his recklessness after our separation.

  I couldn’t even tell myself the worst was over, because things could become far more frightening than they currently were. Nicholas was right to make decisions based on necessity, as I must. The Louella I had been—the calmly controlled society wife—wasn’t going to survive this. I had to become someone else, someone adaptable, perhaps even opportunistic.

  Nicholas was right, however. The time for kittens or hugs was over. I had to find the strength I’d relied on through the years of my marriage, because I couldn’t afford to be weak. Sentimental, yes, but not weak. So I walked to the bookcase and took down Marcus’s favorite book—a dog-eared first edition copy of The Fellowship of The Ring. He’d always told me how much, as a teenager, he’d loved Tolkien, and in particular, Aragorn’s adventures in middle earth.

  At the start of our relationship, I’d imagined that was some form of hero-worship, but following the revelations of six years ago that had turned me into an alcoholic, I realized it was probably a crush, because Marcus was attracted to men.

  I’d never admitted it at the time, but that had devastated my self-esteem.

  Intellectually, I knew I was desirable to a certain sort of man. I didn’t need anyone propositioning me to acknowledge that fact—not that any man would dare. But I didn’t feel it. Or at least…I hadn’t until I’d stood at Nicholas’s door, trembling with shock, staring at his naked chest. And then when his gaze had dropped to my breasts…did that mean something? Or had he simply been thinking about my pendant?

  And why was I even contemplating this? Was it to distract myself from the horrible suspicion that Marcus had been kidnapped by people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him? Perhaps my physical reaction to Nicholas was simply the result of the heightened emotions of the day: fear, euphoria, self-loathing and then shock.

  I’d been on an emotional rollercoaster, and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. As I hugged the book to my chest, I wished it was Marcus and that I could somehow make him safe.

  Although, it didn’t make sense that after all he’d put me through with our sex life, I still cared enough to want him to be happy. But I did. Perhaps because none of this was really his fault. He’d spent most of his adult life trying to be the son and husband he imagined was expected of him—wealthy and successful—instead of the man he wanted to be.

  Recklessness after our separation had brought him a brief window of sexual liberation, but it had also ruined his financial future, and I was doing what I could to ensure I wasn’t dragged into that black hole with him.

  “Louella, what’s happening?”

  I turned to find Lizzie in the doorway, rubbing her eyes like a child waking up from a bad dream.

  “My ex-husband is in trouble.” I pressed the book into my chest to hold in the dread that wanted to escape. “Police are on the way to help us sort it out. You’ll be perfectly safe here.”

  She took a step closer, frowning. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  Nicholas came in behind her. “I think Lizzie should go.” My eyes widened at his rude suggestion, until he added, “For her own safety.”

  “But…this house is secure.”

  He stared at me, and I realized there must be something he didn’t want to say in front of her.

  So I nodded. “Of course.” I put the book down and walked over to her. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. You’ve only just arrived, but we’re concerned that Marcus has been kidnapped…” It was the first time I’d said that out loud, and I suddenly found I couldn’t go on—didn’t want to speculate about what that meant.

  Luckily Nicholas finished for me. “Bad people know that he lived here.”

  Lizzie immediately caught her breath and put a hand to her chest. “But will you be safe here?” she asked me.

  It was the last thing I’d expected, and in that moment I realized why Jill was so fond of the girl. In the middle of being shunted from house to house with a newborn, Lizzie still had the emotional space to care about the wellbeing of a virtual stranger.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said confidently, because I honestly believed that. “I have Nicholas protecting me.” I looked at him then and his gaze was steady. “He won’t let anyone hurt me.”

  He made no reply, but something pulsed between us and miraculously my dread for Marcus drained away. It was going to be alright. Somehow, being with Nicholas gave me hope. He was highly intelligent. He’d work this out.

  “Absolutely,” he said, then he turned to Lizzie. “A friend of mine is on the way, and she’s a bodyguard, like me. She’ll be able to help you move, but do you have anywhere else to go?”

  Lizzie nodded, and I saw her thick lashes cresting with tears. “Sieu rang me. My wife,” she explained to Nicholas, because he wouldn’t know that. “She’s coming home. That’s why I came to see Louella.” She turned to me. “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality, but…”

  “Of course. That’s good news. I’m so pleased.”

  Lizzie nodded, and I suspected she couldn’t speak then.

  “I’ll help you pack,” I offered, “While Nicholas retrieves my pendant.” I shot him a glance. “It’s in the Bentley.” I sounded normal again and I was relieved about that.

  “Leave the bags in Lizzie’s room,” he instructed, “and come back to the library when you’re finished. I’ll let the police in.”

  That was clearly code for don’t go anywhere near the front door which was sensible in the circumstances.

  “As you wish,” I replied, wanting to be clear about my obedience. He’d have enough on his hands without wondering whether I was going to be headstrong. The edge in his voice wasn’t something I’d heard before. It was barely noticeable, and I’m sure Lizzie wouldn’t have picked up on it, but I knew Nicholas.

  That Zen core he operated from was rattled, and perhaps that should have unnerved me, but as I followed Lizzie upstairs, I realized that his tension was calming me. It was almost as if one of us had to be hyper-vigilant, and if it was him, then it didn’t need to be me.

  I began to believe that if I responded appropriately to his directions I should be safe, and further, we might be able to help Marcus. So as Lizzie and I packed her belongings, I felt the mundane nature of our tasks calming me further.

  By the time we’d finished, Nicholas’s associate Gisel had arrived and introduced herself—a tall, striking brunette with Slavic cheekbones and a black bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

  “I’ll take these downstairs,” she said with a faint European accent, picking up two of the suitcases.

  “Thank you,” Lizzie said shyly, then she turned to me. “I’ll wait until the last minute to get my little bunny out of his crib.”

  He was still sleeping blissfully and I was selfishly relieved about that. The sooner he was gone, the sooner I could stop worrying about her asking me to hold him. Newborns were so fragile they terrified me. “Then I’ll wait in the library.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, before I could turn away. “About your husband—”

  “Ex-husband.”

  She blinked at me with those unnaturally large blue eyes. “You obviously still care about him. About his safety.”

  I nodded because that
was completely true. “We were married for a long time. It was hard to…live here alone, after he left.”

  That was all I could manage because my throat was closing over as the dread bubbled up inside me. I never wanted to share a bed with Marcus again, but the thought that he might die was completely unacceptable.

  From behind me, Nicholas said, “Police are here. I put them in the library.” His voice was flat and almost harsh.

  I touched Lizzie’s shoulder to regain her attention. “Gisel will take you home. I’ll leave you with her now. I need to speak to the police.”

  She grabbed my hand as I tried to withdraw it. “Thank you, Louella,” she said sincerely, as fluffy and adorable as the kitten had been. “Jill told me you would take care of everything.” She smiled a tremulous smile. “And you did. You made me feel safe, and…cared for.”

  A trickle of tenderness wanted to rise up inside me but I pushed it back down. “You have my phone number,” I said. “Don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. Even if I’m…busy,” Don’t think about Marcus being dead. “I can organize something.”

  Jill would want me to protect this precious cousin of Finn’s. So despite how awkward I felt about the gesture, I squeezed her hands before I let them go, because I knew these touchy-feely gestures reinforced caring.

  Then I turned to Nicholas and saw an expression in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.

  It was almost wariness, as if he didn’t know what to expect from me. In that moment I also noticed that his chest was rising and falling. Had he run up the stairs?

  I stepped past him and led the way down, but when we reached the bottom of the stairs he said, “I’ve got the pendant. I’d like you to wear it.”

  I turned back to find that he’d already opened the clasp and had one end in each hand. The security device, hidden within a stainless-steel waterproof oval, hung on the fashionable silver chain.

  “Now,” he said, his chest rising and falling again.

  Chapter Four

  He seemed agitated, and I wondered if he expected me to argue with his directives.

 

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