“Your services are no longer needed.” Preston waved Cole away again.
Cole kept his glare on me.
If he wasn’t careful, the drink tray Cole held would soon fly across the room and meet with the center of Preston’s forehead.
Cole’s jaw clenched so tightly his neck quivered.
“I’ll be fine. Promise.”
Our combined reactions to the situation were even more odd than a dead woman leaving me a fortune. Hopefully, Cole knew that what he walked in on was none of my doing. I could have kicked this Preston guy.
As Cole backed out of the room, I asked Preston in an ice-filled voice, “Are you always so condescending?”
“Oh, was I rude? I meant no harm.” The apology did not meet his eyes. He put the ungodly stack of papers into a manila envelope.
“I’m sure.”
“So, lunch, tomorrow after the funeral.” His suit almost crackled as he placed his hand on mine. Again. “I’ll be here for the service, and then we’ll leave right after. I’ll see you through this.”
I pried my hand away. “I assure you I’m in no immediate distress, and I don’t think I’ll be in the mood for lunch so soon after a funeral. I’ll have a friend look over the papers, show me where to sign, and I’ll mail them back. Thank you.”
Cole sauntered back into the room, plopped down on the winged back chair, and propped his feet on the table beside Preston’s briefcase. He folded his arms over his chest and was perfectly content to stare Preston down as he stood to leave.
I led Preston to the front entrance.
Just before he got through the threshold, he turned back to me. He searched through the briefcase. “I almost forgot. Miss Rollins asked me to give you a letter. Her express instructions were that no other eyes saw it.”
Taking the envelope, I was glad to shut the door on him.
Heavy stationery. Probably expensive. I carried it upstairs and slid it into my nightstand. Safe there, it would prove to be some good reading material for the evening.
Just inside the living room threshold, Cole was reclined into a sprawl on the chair, his eyes closed. A sinister grin played over his face.
Silently, I went to the table and picked up the manila envelope of endless documents the lawyer left.
Cole’s eyes opened.
“So was that vulture number one?” I said.
“He was interested in getting into more than your check book.”
I dropped the manila envelope and crossed my arms.
“Don’t act like you didn’t catch that.” Cole batted his eyelashes once. “I mean, really. Who says, ‘I’m good at what I do, very good.’?”
“Yeah. Apparently he thought I’d fall for that line.” I carried the glasses to the kitchen. I hoped he’d follow. And he did.
“He’s lucky I didn’t swell his mouth for coming on to you like that.” Cole recoiled. “You know, because he was trying to come on to a young lady. That Ivy League school he attended obviously didn’t teach manners.”
I busied myself. “So I’ve gone from trailer park to a lady. Impressive.”
He paced. “He would have thrown you down on the sofa if you’d have let him.”
I liked the way his eyes glinted green as he fumed. So, the guy in love with a statue who doesn’t want to burden me with his emotional baggage was jealous. Cute. Complicated, but cute. “I sort of wanted to go on a horseback ride this evening. It’d be relaxing.”
He didn’t run screaming from the kitchen.
“Do you think you could escort me later? I know you’re awfully busy.”
“Tonight. Um. Well, I guess. But we can’t be long. Thomas will have my head if I have you out after dark.”
“Thank you. I really do appreciate all the time you’ve taken to help me.”
“No problem.” Cole started for the door.
The present fell away, and Cole and I were in another place.
Almost pitch dark, enough light to see outlines. Trees, tall grass fell over under its own weight. Cole cuddled behind me, our bodies a perfect fit, our breathing synchronized as he whispered in my ear between kisses on my neck.
Cole’s voice jerked me from the daydream or whatever had just happened. It had felt so real.
“On second thought, let’s make it at least an hour before dark. I’ll see you at seven.” The empty door swung with no sign of Cole.
Chapter 6
After a quiet dinner in my room, I called Mama.
“So, how are things?” she asked.
“The truth is—okay, don’t freak out. Supposedly, tomorrow when this woman’s will is read, I’m going to inherit everything she owns.” I waited.
Mama was quiet.
“You still there? Are you okay?”
“Exactly what does ‘everything she owns’ mean, honey?”
“She had a lot of money. But the question we should both be asking here is, why?” I wrapped the hem of the blanket around my fingers. “Why would a woman I’ve never met do this?”
“Oh, honey. Why would you question it at all? You should see it as a blessing. I’ve never been able to provide for you the way you deserved and now, this. This is sooo wonderful.” Mama’s voice broke with a sob.
“All I ever wanted was a mother like you. Money means nothing to me. You know that.” I let go of the blanket. “Maybe, if this is all for real, you can come here. I still haven’t actually signed anything, but lawyers and everyone in the house have told me it’s the real thing. If it’s true, the only reason it’ll make me happier is that it’ll make you not have to work so hard.”
“Well, honey, I’m just, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been so happy. You deserve this so much. I hope it’s not some awful prank.” New worry resonated in her voice.
“I’ll be okay. I have to go for now, but I’ll check back in soon.”
“Okay, honey. I love you.”
“Love you more.”
I hit the end button on the phone and cradled it in my hands.
Neighs, whinnies, and hooves tapping on the cobblestone drive drew me to the window.
The sun hung low in the sky. It sent long amber shadows of trees across the grounds.
Below, Cole worked alongside two very intimidating mammoth horses. He adjusted and double-checked the straps on their saddles.
My stomach tied in knots. Offering to make a fool of myself on a horse had not been a good idea. I’d never touched a horse, much less ridden one.
Cole looked up. He had showered and changed. His wet hair hung in loose waves around his face.
I stepped back, drawing the curtains. I’d never ridden a horse. If I made a fool of myself, he’d never look at me again. If he did, he’d always see me as some childish little girl.
Outside, Cole spoke inaudible words of assurance as he stroked one of the horse’s snouts.
With butterflies lifting my stomach to my throat, I walked toward him.
“Sampson, meet Allison.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.
The horse’s big puppy dog eyes met mine. His head nodded up and down as his skin crawled.
We’re in this together, buddy.
The nervous horse sniffed.
Cole ran his hand down its shoulder. “She hasn’t bitten me yet, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Good. He was in a better mood than earlier.
He grinned and finally turned a million watt smile on me.
Suddenly time shifted. I’d been here before, in this exact place, doing this exact thing with Cole standing just where he was. I shook off the notion of déjà vu and regarded the horse.
“Hi, Sampson,” I said, reaching out to him. Oddly, I knew it would feel like silk between his nostrils.
“Okay, up.” Cole held out his hand. It was the first time he’d touched me without cringing.
When I laid my fingers across his palm, his eyes met mine. Electric
sizzles crackled in the air.
Either Cole was unaffected or he was a good actor. He hoisted me up and went to his horse without a look back.
Sampson’s black mane glistened in the sun as I settled onto the saddle.
“Delilah is newer to the farm so I let you ride Sampson. I’ve been working with her for a few months, but she’s still a little skittish.” Cole patted her head. “Just don’t squeeze his sides too much, though.”
He took my reins and drew Delilah closer.
“Hold on to the saddle. He’d break his own leg before he’d let you be hurt, but just to be careful I’ll lead us both. Stay calm, and he’ll follow suit.” Cole tugged both reins and we lurched forward.
Somehow, I knew not to dig in with my heels. Doing so would cause the horse to surge forward.
“He likes you. I can tell. He’s not stomping anymore. Here.” He handed me the reins. “Pull back when you want him to slow down. Yank when you want him to walk.”
“Why are you really so upset with me over the room? And the statue?” Crap. Why had I blurted that?
Cole was silent for a few moments. “The previous owner of that room and I both had someone we loved stolen from us. Maybe I’m overly superstitious, but I think it’s bad to sleep in a dead person’s room. We’re going to move a little faster now. Give him a little nudge with your—”
Out of instinct, I had already nudged the horse with my foot.
Cole cocked his head, and his left eyebrow lifted in suspicion.
I reached down to hold on to the seat, steadying myself until I got used to the movement, but I didn’t need to. I was fine.
“You’ve had a little practice.” He considered me from under a lowered, sexy brow.
“I must be a natural.” I shrugged.
He looked sideways at me and then stared off down the lane. The branches hugged the lane tighter as we went. Cole pulled his reins to the right, directing the horse off the main road.
With precision, I did the same.
Cole noticed and chuckled. “Hmm. Maybe in a past life you rode horses.”
“Past lives. Now I know you’re nuts.”
He openly laughed for the first time. “You don’t have a position on the afterlife?”
“I’ve never given it much thought. What exactly do you believe?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Cole glanced sidelong at me with a cute little smirk.
After a few minutes of riding through thick forest, we trod on a path of long flowing grass.
“This is my favorite place. The fast-paced modern world falls away and the sounds of nature take you back to a time when things weren’t so complicated.” Cole stared at something in the distance.
“You aren’t as shallow as you like to put on.” I played with Sampson’s mane. “Your descriptions are so poetic. You’d have no trouble causing a visitor to fall in love.”
“With me or the house?” He didn’t smile.
“Definitely not you. As mean as you are, I don’t see how you put up with yourself.”
“Can I ask something of you?” Cole’s face was stone.
“Depends.” Uh-oh.
The serious Cole melted away.
He gazed ahead of us, off into the distance, at nothing, at everything, blankly or maybe thinking about his whole life and every crazy thing that had happened to him that he would never tell anyone, especially a stranger like me.
“Promise you won’t fall in love with me.” A sad thickness crept into Cole’s voice.
A gloomy ache formed in my chest. I was afraid to answer.
“Allie, please promise me. I need my life to stay simple. No complications.” Cole turned his jade gaze onto me.
My brain went fuzzy, and I couldn’t focus.
A distant look possessed him. He stared through me. Cole pulled on his bridle, steering his horse in closer to mine.
The trees on the worn path blurred.
In robotic, jerky movements, he grabbed my bridle, tugging us to a halt, our legs touching. Inches from mine, his lips trembled, and he gripped my reins tighter. Outside noise fell away, our heartbeats synchronizing like they always did. Cole’s eyes focused, landing on my lips. He leaned in. “Promise me.”
I couldn’t move. I’d promise him anything. It’d only been hours since we’d met, and I couldn’t help myself. The only thing I could think of was him. Only him. His hand on mine. His breath on my face. “I promise?”
He leaned closer, his breath hotter.
Our lips were centimeters apart.
“Push me away.” His chest rose and fell, flexing the muscles in his shoulders.
I held my breath as his presence enveloped me. It wasn’t only his body that entered my normal three-foot personal space. Something familiar came with him.
His soul brushed mine, and the guy leaning toward me was not the hard, mean person I’d met yesterday. He was something different, something more.
A delicious prickle of heat spread over my chest and traveled down.
His lips connected with mine.
Without warning, Sampson reared back.
I grasped for the reins, but it was too late.
My weight pulled me off onto the ground. My head met with something unforgivingly hard and sharp. Intense pain radiated from the point of impact.
Blackness surrounded a long tunnel of what was left of my vision, but I didn’t lose consciousness.
On the ground in a mangled, contorted spider crawl, the corpse of a woman jerked toward me.
The horses made all sorts of commotion. Their hooves pounded the ground as they made away from the scene.
Cole scrambled up from where his horse had thrown him. Instead of running to my rescue, he ran straight for the thing my imagination had to be conjuring up.
Her hair dragged the dirt as she crawled closer, gaining speed with every inch.
Cole tackled her mangled form. They rolled a good ten feet. Cole tried to pin her arms down, but she slithered from his grip. He wrestled until he had her by her arm, but she slung him off onto the ground.
He landed with a grunt and a thud.
Like a contortionist, she twisted and popped to stand in front of me.
Terror blurred my vision, and my heart slammed into my throat.
A half-woman, half-corpse with long, dirty brown hair stomped toward me.
“If you kiss him again, I’ll rip your head from your pretty little body,” she said in a guttural growl, black fluid dripping from her mouth.
“Dammit, Grace,” Cole said as he lunged for her again.
A long tunnel of blackness narrowed around my consciousness till nothing was left but a dot of light. Then everything went black.
* * * *
Black lightened to gray, and then a bright stabbing pain in the back of my head flashed behind my eyelids.
The tensed muscles of Cole’s arms cradled me as trees passed by with impossible velocity. He stared blankly ahead. Cold. Distant. His corded muscles flexed under the weight of my body.
Against the sweet sensation it was to be held by him, I lifted my head, but a sharp pain at the base of my skull stopped me. His chest was comforting and warm. I needed to go to sleep.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he commanded.
“Why does my head feel like a boulder fell on me?” My voice seemed to come from the other end of a long barrel.
“We’re not far from the house. The cut is pretty bad.”
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Cole angled his face away from me.
A memory nagged me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Don’t talk. Rest. Just don’t sleep.”
My heart twisted out of my chest. We’d been so close. I had to have done something stupid again. Now he was mad. I was never going to get him to like me.
“We need to get you home.” Cole’s voice was hollow, emotionless.
&
nbsp; Had someone thrown my brain into a blender? Everything was foggy, blurred.
“I should have known better.” Cole’s pained stare focused on the path ahead of us.
Did he always have to act so unstable? All this because of a…
Oh. My. God.
He tried to kiss me.
But we tumbled off the horse before it happened.
Did I let on that I remembered or feign amnesia?
“I’m okay, I think.” A throbbing knot at my hairline left crimson on my fingers. “Oh, no.”
Cole gazed with focus on my fingers but tore his eyes away. His muscles shuddered beneath me.
My muddled brain see-sawed between wishing he’d squeeze me tighter and hoping this wouldn’t put more space between us. The lingering sensation of his lips on mine brought my hand to my lips.
He shook his head, his face twisting in some emotion I’d never be able to read because he’d never let me that close. His voice was hollow. “I should have known.”
“It was an almost kiss,” I said.
“I was out of line. I forgot my place. You’re my boss. I’m your employee.”
“I seem to remember having some part in it too.” I hoped this whole guilty-employee persona wasn’t for my sake. “It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me. I said I’m okay.”
“You’re. Not. Okay.” His voice sliced through me. “All because I was out for a little no strings attached fling.”
Heat exploded under my cheeks as the shards of his icy words sliced through me. “You didn’t just say that.”
His look of remorse grew into a cocky smirk.
“I am a man, it’s almost dark, and we were alone. Put two and two together. The opportunity showed itself, and I mean, look at you. You can’t fault me for giving in to male urges.” His eyes didn’t match what he said, what he wanted to make me believe.
I turned my head against the embarrassment.
Cole’s voice raised an octave, and he shook me in his arms. “Allie? Allie?”
I opened my eyes for his sake and flashed infuriation in his direction.
“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseated?”
“Nauseated isn’t quite the word I’d use.” My stomach lurched into my throat. He’d ruined it for me. It hadn’t been enough of a kiss for me to even call it one, but my first kiss had been a disaster.
Ever After Page 8
