CHAPTER NINE
MAYBE IT WAS TERRIBLY SHALLOW OF HER, but Rachel delighted in the fact that her husband had washboard abs. She didn’t even try to resist the urge to touch them, simply because she didn’t have to any longer. A nicer wife would have been content to watch her husband, to let him sleep in. But there was something very beautiful about the lines of his muscular form, and that beauty beckoned her to trace her fingers along each contour. When she moved on to the enticing V of his hips, his hand flew up to catch hers.
“Diable femme,” he accused tenderly, pulling her fingers to his lips.
“What?” She batted her eyelashes innocently. “I was just admiring. That hardly makes me a devil woman.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Then it’s my turn.” He rolled her onto her back and set about showing her just how much he admired her. What started out as tenderly tracing curves soon flared into something more.
They got a later start to their day than either intended. By the time each had sufficiently admired the other, they’d missed breakfast. They might have made it on time if Conrad had put a shirt on instead of padding around the room in jeans that hung on his hips in such a ridiculously tantalizing way. So really, it was totally his fault that Rachel’s stomach was growling as they climbed in the truck.
“I thought I was supposed to be healing,” Conrad mused, handing her a drive-thru cup of coffee.
“Did I hurt you?” Rachel blanched.
“No, not at all. I was teasing,” he rushed to assure her.
“That was not very gentlemanly, then.” She pursed her lips and gave him the evil eye.
“No, but that was a cute face.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she changed subjects. “How far is the cabin?”
“A couple of hours, but we’ll want to stop for supplies before we get there.”
“Just how remote is this place?”
“Don’t go outside alone at night.”
“Will ghosts get me?” Rachel teased then stopped short, feeling like a total heel for not remembering that his parents had been murdered at the cabin years ago. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” He reached out to brush her cheek tenderly with his thumb. “Some people think it’s weird that I kept the cabin, but I wouldn’t have if it bothered me. I don’t think about it so much as where they died. It’s one of the few places where I can still feel them. Besides, if I’d sold it then, I wouldn’t have it now, and it’s the perfect place to lie low for a while. Not even Rick Sinclair will be able to find it without help.”
“I’m such an idiot.” Rachel was furious at herself.
“For marrying me, maybe. But in all other regards, not at all. It really is okay.”
“I wish you’d stop telling me I was stupid for marrying you.” Rachel frowned at him but finally let go of her guilt just the slightest bit.
“But to answer your question, it’s not ghosts that will keep you in at night,” he said. “It’s the gators.”
“Excuse me?”
“Alligators.”
“I heard you,” she snapped.
“Then why did you say ‘excuse me’?”
“Because it seemed the thing to say. I was in shock. Gators?”
“This is Louisiana, mon amour.”
“I know this is Louisiana, but would alligators really come up to the cabin?” Rachel struggled to wrap her brain around what he was telling her.
“They won’t come in if you remember to close the door.”
“Excuse me?”
“Was that a real ‘excuse me,’ or an in-shock ‘excuse me’?”
Rachel punched him in the arm.
“I thought it was a valid question.”
She sucked in a deep breath, her jaw twitching as she tried to control the anger bubbling inside her. Honest reflection told her it was fear more than anger, but she wasn’t about to share that with Conrad.
“So other than being stuck inside all night because of gators, is there anything else I should know about your family’s cabin? Please, and I mean please, tell me it has indoor plumbing.” Rachel had sudden visions of being bitten on the rump by an alligator while trying to straddle an outhouse hole.
“It has indoor plumbing,” he assured her. “Now.”
“Now? As in, there was a time it didn’t?”
Conrad answered with an amused smile.
“Hot water?”
“Another improvement I made. I put solar panels up last summer, so I have power.”
“If you left to put solar panels up, why did you go back to the casino? You said yourself no one could find you at the cabin.”
He glanced over at Rachel but didn’t answer. His silence reminded her why he’d stayed.
“That’s right, you stayed to protect me.”
“I didn’t do a very good job of it, did I?”
“I disagree. I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”
Conrad rewarded her with another smile, letting the subject drop. Rachel kicked off her shoes and leaned against the door, twisting in the seat so she could put her feet in his lap. It might not have been the safest way to ride, but she was feeling a little wild. Besides, it couldn’t be any more dangerous than bunking with gators.
The wind tugged her hair out the window, feeling delightful as it stroked her cheek on its way by. The day’s radio selection was rock n’ roll, garage band style. Rachel smiled, rather enjoying the many sides to Conrad Langston. The miles of blacktop passed quickly, almost too quickly for Rachel’s taste. Before she was ready, they were at a little country store, loading up their shopping cart with staples. Conrad tossed in a pocket knife as an impulse buy, earning an arched eyebrow from Rachel.
“I thought you might like your own,” he offered by way of explanation.
“Thanks.” Rachel wasn’t sure what else to say to that, and she wondered what on earth she would need a pocket knife for.
“They come in handy,” he promised her, accurately guessing at the meaning behind her expression.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You’d be surprised the size of gator you can take out with one of those.”
Rachel paled. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Yes, I’m joking.”
“That’s not cool, Conrad. Not cool at all.”
He merely smiled in response.
They were soon back in the truck, but it was infinitely less pleasant bumping along dirt roads than it had been tooling along the highway. Still, the bayou had an ethereal beauty to it, almost making up for the stifling air that was so thick it clung to their skin.
Conrad hadn’t been joking when he said his place was difficult to find. The cabin itself sat precariously over the water, at least in Rachel’s opinion. It was completely surrounded by the lush greenery of the Louisiana wetland. Even the truck disappeared in the foliage once parked.
Rachel set about unloading groceries while Conrad opened the cabin up for use. She had never seen a kitchen so tiny or a cabin so sparse. Aside from the miniscule refrigerator, stove, and sink, the cabin held a king-size bed, a trunk at the foot of it, and nothing else. There was a screened-in porch that hung completely over the water. That, naturally, had chairs.
Rachel eyeballed the only seating the cabin had to give, wondering what the odds were that it would collapse into the bayou at some point, offering her up as gator dinner. The screened-in porch’s door led to a wooden dock, which led even farther into the water. Tied to the dock was a boat that looked small enough to be fair game for a decent-sized reptile.
The cabin was tidy, even by Rachel’s standards. It was obvious to her that Conrad had taken great pride in caring for it throughout the years.
“How much of the land around here is yours?” she asked, slightly in awe at yet another side to her husband.
“About a hundred acres.”
“Really? That has to be worth a lot, even in today’s market.”
“I suppose it is. It�
��s been in my family for generations.”
“I wish I had roots like that.” Rachel was a little envious of the tether he had to his past. “I barely remember my father, and I only have a vague connection with his family. Mom has nothing to do with hers, so I don’t really know much about them. Sometimes I feel like I just sprang up out of nowhere.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” His gaze was tender as he pulled her into his arms. “My family is such a part of who I am – the French and the Coushetta – I can’t imagine not having that. I can’t give you a past, but I can promise to do everything in my power to make your future magical.”
“I’m pretty pleased with the present.” Rachel snuggled closer, sliding her hands into his back pockets.
“Are you putting the moves on me, Mrs. Langston?” he flirted.
“Actually, no.”
“That stung a little.”
“Sorry; I’m not taking any chances with the house falling into the bayou.”
Conrad’s bark of laughter escaped before he could stop it, earning him a glare and a whack from his bride.
“I’m sorry, mon amour; that just took me by surprise. I can assure you, the building is sound.”
“Have you tested it?”
“For all activities? No. But I’ve spent many, many hours in this little cabin. I even used to bring Gabrielle here every summer. Back then it had two smaller beds and a couple of chairs, but when Gabrielle went to live with her mom, I got rid of the other furniture and got myself a bed my feet wouldn’t hang off of.”
“Makes sense.” She felt silly for questioning the cabin. “People have been living on this bayou for hundreds of years. Surely if there were some great danger to it, someone would have done some sort of exposé on it by now.”
“As a reporter, I would think you’d want to test it to ensure the building’s safety. I mean, there could be an entire population of Cajuns at risk.” His breath tickled her ear, its warmth sending sparks through her veins.
“Very funny.” She halfheartedly shoved at his chest.
“Only you can save them, Rachel Cooper.” He nibbled at her neck.
“In the interest of journalistic integrity, then…” Her voice trailed off as her mouth found something else to do.
The satellite phone rang, interrupting their passion as effectively as a splash of cold water. Rick had given them the phone so he could reach them if they were in danger or when it was time to move on.
Rachel was on pins and needles throughout the entire conversation. Though Conrad tried to reassure her with nonverbal cues, she couldn’t tell from his end of the conversation what exactly was going on. He wasn’t panicked, which she assumed was a good thing, but he didn’t look happy either. When he hung up, she didn’t have to ask; he immediately began to fill her in.
“Julia’s fine. Rick and Veronica want to meet us here by the end of the week. They think they’ll be wrapped up in New Jersey by then, and they said they need to talk to us about next steps.”
“I suppose I should be happy about that. I mean, maybe ‘next steps’ means we’ll get our lives back, right?”
“That’s the hope.” Conrad uttered the words in a way that made Rachel think he held little hope at this point.
If for no other reason than to lighten his mood, Rachel admitted, “So, is it wrong that I’m a little disappointed they’re coming so quickly? After two years apart, I think I was kind of looking forward to having a couple of weeks to catch up.”
“I’m just glad you were the one to say it out loud. Now I don’t feel so guilty thinking it.”
“I guess we just have to make the next few days count, huh?” she suggested.
He was quick to accept the invitation to pull her back into his arms. “Absolutely.”
“Just one thing.” Rachel placed a finger over his lips when he would have kissed her.
“Yes, mon amour?” he asked, maneuvering to pull the tip of her finger into his mouth.
She paused momentarily, closing her eyes and trying to remember whatever had gone flying right out of her brain the moment tongue touched finger. Finally grabbing hold of the thought, she pulled her hand away and scowled at him.
“You called me Rachel Cooper earlier.”
“That is your name.”
“But you called me Mrs. Langston before that,” she argued.
“I liked the way it sounded.”
“Why the switch?”
“I didn’t want to make any assumptions. Your name is kind of like a brand, right?” he explained.
“The station might ask me to keep the maiden name on air, but I plan to take your name legally. I mean, I guess, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s more than okay with me. You continue to make me the happiest man in the world, and I love you.”
“I love you too.” That settled, she let him have her hand back.
They whiled away the day wearing as few clothes as possible, mostly because of the heat, but partly because they just liked the view and they could. They laughed, they talked, and they made love. Conrad caught them fish for dinner, then taught Rachel how to clean and cook them. She tried to keep the horrified expression off her face, but Conrad’s amusement suggested she hadn’t done a very good job at hiding her thoughts.
The next morning, Rachel made them muffins from the supplies they’d brought. After that, Conrad took her for a ride in his boat. It had taken some cajoling to get her out on the water, but once there she succumbed to the magic of the place. Spanish moss was draped across the trees, some even hanging so low it touched the water. It added to the mystical air of the bayou. A crane flew by. An alligator slid past their boat without sparing them a second glance. Another heard their approach and dipped beneath the surface of the water.
By the time they returned home for lunch, Rachel had fallen in love with the place. Seeing him there, she began to understand the magic that was him. She began to see why he’d promised to make her own future magical: it’s what he knew, who he was, and she loved him all the more for it.
She was feeling adventuresome, so she even went along when he offered to teach her to fish. She watched intently as he prepared the line and baited the hook, a little in awe of how easily his hands accomplished the task.
“What’s that look?” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I’m realizing that the fish back in Arkansas were probably laughing at me.”
“That bad, huh?”
“It’s irritating how much you and your sister know how to do.”
Conrad chuckled, shrugging lightly in embarrassment. “Growing up poor will do that to you. You learn how to survive.”
“We were dirt poor after Dad died, but I don’t know how to do any of this.”
“That’s because you were stuck in the city, poor thing.”
“I’d like to think it made me resourceful in other ways.” Rachel felt slightly defensive, even if she was the one who’d brought the subject up.
“I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather partner up with.” He stopped what he was doing to tip her chin up so he could brush her lips with his own.
Rachel sighed, basking in the warmth of his love. “I can’t say I’ll ever be as comfortable here as you are, but I do want to learn.”
“I’ll teach you everything I know.” He kissed her again. This one held more promise than the last and made Rachel wonder if they were still talking about fishing.
“Stop that,” she admonished lightly, resting her head on his chest while waiting for her heart rate to return to normal. “I want to learn to fish.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
True to his word, he explained everything they did and why. Rachel caught on quickly and even caught the biggest fish of the day. When Conrad attributed her success to beginner’s luck, she called his claim sour grapes. But she regretted her saucy reply when he left her to clean her own catch.
CHAPTER TEN
“CONRAD LANGSTON, YOU HAVE LOST YOUR
MIND.” Nervous laughter accompanied Rachel’s announcement. Even as she told herself he was bluffing, Conrad stripped his shirt off and dove cleanly into the water. Sitting ramrod straight in the middle of the boat, she instinctively picked his shirt up before it could get too wet and folded it as she scanned the waterline for alligators.
He resurfaced suddenly, water streaming from him as he shook his head like a wet dog and laughed, the sound reverberating across the water.
“Come on, chère. The water is good and cool. I promise you it feels much better in here than it does out there.”
She looked at him like he was completely insane. “I am not swimming with alligators.”
“Then you won’t be swimming in Louisiana.”
“Fine. You have fun. I’ll wait right here.”
“Have you ever been swimming in the ocean?” Conrad asked.
“That’s different. Have you seen Lake Placid?” She shifted uncomfortably on her seat.
“Have you seen Jaws?” he tossed back.
“It’s just that I can’t see anything. It’s so murky.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s murky, exactly. I promise you, the odds of finding any gators bigger than four feet here are pretty small.” He hitched his arms over the side of the boat and looked up at her with imploring eyes.
“You mean four feet long?”
Conrad raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer. Rachel took that to mean he thought her question was a stupid one.
“So there could quite easily be gators under four feet long in this water?” she clarified.
“Probably. But the little ones aren’t going to mess with us.”
“You have fun.” She waved him away from the boat. “I really don’t mind waiting here. I’ll work on my tan.”
“Where’s your spirit of adventure?” He let go of the boat, swimming away a few strokes before slipping beneath the surface only to pop up again on the other side of boat, eliciting a surprised yelp from Rachel.
“I’ve had quite enough adventure the past few weeks to last me a lifetime.”
Devil in Disguise Page 11
