The Legacy

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The Legacy Page 11

by Fayrene Preston


  “Because of what I have to tell you.” He smiled with regret. “And Caitlin, I can only think of one thing when you’re on top of me.”

  “What’s so bad about that?” she asked and pressed a kiss on his chin.

  “Not a damn thing. But ...” He shifted out from under her, took a pair of shorts from the wardrobe, and slipped them on.

  She sat up and eyed him worriedly. “Whatever this is, it must be bad if you have to get dressed.” His lips twisted. “I’m getting dressed because with the two of us wearing little or nothing, I can’t forget, even for a few minutes, how very much I want you.” She sighed. “Okay, Nico, what is it?”

  He braced his hands on his hips, searching his mind for some way to make the next few minutes easier for both of them. But there was no way. “Caitlin, I want you to know that I’ve systematically searched quite a bit of your house. In fact, I chose SwanSea as a place to recuperate because of my search.”

  The color in her face slowly drained away. “What?" “It’s true,” he said grimly. “In fact, you caught me in the act one day as I was looking through the desk in the study. Remember?”

  “Yes, but you said you were writing a letter to your great-grandmother and you needed a pen.”

  “A story I had prepared, just in case someone walked in and found me.”

  She couldn’t begin to guess what he was leading up to, but she knew if it were bad, she was vulnerable. Her love for him had left her wide open. But this couldn’t be as bad as it sounded, she thought, refusing to jump to any conclusions. “I don’t understand what it is you’re trying to tell me. ”

  “Just wait. I’m afraid your confusion is going to get worse. I’d do anything to spare us this, but from this moment on, I’m resolved there will be no more secrets between us.”

  “You’re scaring me, Nico.”

  He knelt in front of the bed and took her hand. “Don’t be afraid. What I’m about to tell you, Caitlin, holds importance only for people long dead and one very sick old woman. Try to remember that.”

  “All right.”

  “This concerns your great-grandfather Edward and his firstborn son and legitimate heir, John—my great-grandfather. ”

  “Your what?" Shock made her whisper.

  His lips briefly compressed. “I understand how hard this must be for you, but hear me out. I told you that Elena is ill and that lately she’d been speaking to me of a time long ago when she was a young woman in Italy. One night, right before I was shot, I made one of my regular visits to her, and she told me something I’d never heard before. In fact, none of the family had ever heard this story. It was so fantastic, we weren’t even sure it was true. We’re still not.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “The young man she met and married in 1916, when she was seventeen years old, was John Deverell.” She looked at him oddly. “John died in the war. That’s why Edward sought out grandfather.” She thought for a minute. “You think John and Elena married?”

  “I’m only telling you what Elena told me. Do you know any details about John?”

  “No, not really. I’m not sure anyone in the family does.”

  “Well, the DiFrenzas have never known anything except that Elena’s husband was named John. She told me the rest of the story that night. In 1913, when John was eighteen, he left America to go on a grand tour. I gather there were some problems with his father, but she wasn’t specific. The war began to break out in Europe, country by country, but John didn’t want to return home. He liked being independent. Eventually, he must have been caught up in the fervor of the war because he enlisted in the Italian underground where he was really out of his father’s reach. He and Elena met and married, and not too much longer after that, in 1917, he was killed. According to Elena, Edward knew nothing about her or her marriage to John, or that before his death, they had conceived a child. When the child was born, Elena named him Giovanni—John. My grandfather.”

  Caitlin could only stare at him, staggered by what she was hearing.

  “Europe had been ravaged by the war,” he said, “and Elena, all alone with her infant son, wrote to Edward of her marriage to John and of the child. She entered her son’s name in her family Bible beneath his father’s signature, inserted her letter of explanation between its pages along with her marriage certificate, wrapped up the Bible and mailed it off to America. John had told her his father was a hard man, but Elena was confident that with the documentation she was sending him, he wouldn’t ignore the fact that he had a grandson, that he would send for them as soon as he received the package. Days turned into months and months into years, and Elena never heard from Edward.”

  “Why?” Caitlin asked. “Assuming all of this was true, of course.”

  “I have no idea. Neither does she. But she told me she was so angry and hurt that she took back her maiden name. And after several years, she was able to save money for passage to America. The rest of the story my family knew. She started out sewing in one of those sweatshops, making clothes for a local manufacturer. But she was smart, and through hard work and luck, she was able to open a little shop of her own. That shop’s success eventually led to what is known today as DiFrenza's.”

  “But if she was so angry, why did she move to the same city Edward lived in?”

  He grinned. “If you knew Elena, you’d know that’s something she’d do. She’s a tiny thing, but she’s got enough stubbornness and pride for a dozen big men. She told me she’d never attempted to contact any Deverell, though there must have been times when she could have used an influential and powerful ally. In fact, she told me that all these years, she’s viewed the Deverell name with great disdain. She said if they didn’t want her in their family, she certainly didn’t want them in hers.” His grin faded. “But she does want back the Bible that lists the birth of her son along with the signature of her husband.”

  She gazed at him, her mind whirling.

  “After I was shot, I decided to use my convalescent period to ease her mind, come up here, and poke around a bit. Besides that, my captain was urging me to get out of town.” Watching her, Nico saw an array of emotions reflected on her face. He’d confessed the most important part of his subterfuge, and he hoped she still trusted him. Unfortunately he didn’t have a clue as to what she was feeling.

  “Nico, why didn’t you tell me all of this when you first came here, instead of the lies and the searching behind my back?”

  He’d been waiting for the question, and he had no thought of trying to duck it. “Caitlin, what would you have done if I’d shown up on your doorstep and announced that I had a contract on my head, needed a place to recuperate from bullet wounds given to me by a drug lord, and oh, by the way, it was possible that I was related to your family, but I needed to search the house to find the proof.”

  “I would have slammed the door in your face.” “Right.”

  "But after we got to know one another—” “Remember, I wasn’t sure if the story was true. I didn’t want you to think that I had been using you or that I was txying to take something away from you. ”

  “You did use me,” she pointed out with unerring reason.

  He was a brave man; courage came easily to him. But telling her the truth about what he’d done had proved to be one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. The thought that he might lose her made his nerves unsteady. “You have to understand that I deal with life-and-death situations on a daily basis, and this seemed harmless in comparison. Initially I was using you, but I knew my intentions were only to put Elena’s mind to rest, not to harm you in any way. And if it makes you feel any better, I started feeling guilty as hell almost immediately.”

  “But not enough to tell me?”

  She wasn’t going to be able to understand, he thought, then quickly shook his despair away. No. She had to understand, and she had to forgive him. He wouldn’t let her out of this room until she did.

  He rose from his knees and sat beside her on the bed, turnin
g to face her. “By then, I had too much to lose if you didn’t believe me. So I put off telling you. And put it off. And put it off. I haven’t handled any of this worth a damn, Caitlin. I admit it. I’m a bastard. But I’m a bastard who loves you. No matter what, always remember that.”

  She felt the breath leave her body. “You love me?” “More than my own life.”

  She could hardly believe her ears. "You love me? Why haven’t you told me?”

  All the love and tenderness he felt for her showed in his smile. “I fought like hell not to love you, but I think I was lost the first minute I laid eyes on you.” He paused. “Caitlin, what do you think about what I’ve just told you about Elena and John?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” she said truthfully. “As a matter of fact, I’m finding it very hard to think at all at the moment.” Suddenly she laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “You love me,” she said, her voice filled with amazement.

  He groaned. “Caitlin, we need to talk more about the Bible and letter I’ve been searching for.”

  She put a hand to his face. “Nico, it’s natural for me to be astonished by this news. Anyone would feel the same if they had just been told there might be a whole new line to their family tree. But why should we waste any more time talking about something that might not even be true? Especially since I have something very important to tell you.”

  “Caitlin—”

  “I love you, Nico.”

  He stared at her, stunned. “Do you mean that, or are you just saying it?”

  She laughed joyously. “Why would I say something like that if I didn’t mean it?”

  Bewildered, he raked his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you want me to love you?”

  “Want you to love me? Caitlin—”

  The look of utter wonderment on his face made her act. She stood and gracefully shimmied out of the pale gold silk gown until she stood naked before him. “Make love to me, Nico.”

  With a low, rough sound of surrender, he reached for her and pulled her down beside him. The lights above them filtered through the colored translucent glass, casting the shapes and deep rose-and-purple colors of grapes over her skin. His mouth began to water as his body hardened.

  He bent to taste the wine of the grapes.

  Seven

  His room had been searched. Nico knew it as soon as he entered his room the next afternoon after a jog. Nothing was out of place; nothing seemed disturbed. But his sixth sense was telling him that his room had been gone through in an extremely professional manner.

  Quinn O’Neill. It couldn’t be anyone else.

  Ever since he’d been here, the work crew has been in and out of the house, and nothing unusual had happened. Besides, Caitlin knew them all. Quinn was the stranger at SwanSea.

  He’d already considered the idea that Quinn could be after him. What he hadn't considered was that Quinn could be after Caitlin. It was time to act.

  He made a quick trip outside, but Quinn’s car was gone. Back upstairs, he called Amarillo.

  “I need you to do something for me,” he said as soon as he heard his friend on the line.

  “Does it involve killing someone?” Amarillo asked with mild interest.

  Nico’s lips quirked. This was just one of the many times Nico had been thankful that Amarillo was on his side. “I’m not sure yet. Depends on what you find. A man by the name of Quinn O’Neill has shown up here. Use every contact you have, call in favors, beg if you have to, but find out who he is.”

  “What’s he done?”

  “My room’s been searched. I’m sure he found my badge and gun. ”

  Amarillo’s laconic tone disappeared. “Get out of there now, Nico. Your position’s been compromised. I told you two days ago that I have a safe place up the coast all ready for you.”

  “I can’t leave him here with Caitlin until I know who he is. Besides, I don’t think he’s after me. If he was, he would have been supplied with positive identification, photos, the works. But if he’s after Caitlin, he might have searched my room to find out who I was and what sort of threat I might be to his plans.” “You mean because he’s seen the two of you together?”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t like this one bit, Nico.”

  “Believe me, I’m not jumping for joy myself, but I’ll argue with you later. For now, do as I ask. He’s driven off somewhere, so I don’t have his license number, but here’s his description.”

  Caitlin’s face lit up when she saw Nico walk into her study. “I’ve been wondering where you were and what you were doing. ”

  He leaned across the desk and gave her a kiss. “And I’ve been wondering how you and I can pull an escape.”

  “An escape?”

  “How would you like to get away from the house for a while? Take a drive. See a movie. Eat lunch somewhere. Anything. I’m open to suggestion as long as it’s away from here.”

  She grinned. “Feeling cooped up?”

  He straightened. “I'm not sure ‘cooped up’ is the right phrase. After all, SwanSea is bigger than some countries. ”

  “Not quite,” she said with a laugh.

  “Well, almost. But I’m definitely restless and in the mood to see something different.”

  She glanced at the mound of paperwork on her desk and grimaced.

  “There’s nothing there that can’t wait, Caitlin.” Making an instant decision, she pushed away from the desk and stood up. “You’re absolutely right. How about going into town? I’d love to show it to you, and I know a great place for lunch.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She clapped her hands together, excited. “Okay, now all we have to do is get out of here without anyone stopping me to ask a question.”

  “Walk fast, don’t meet anyone’s eyes, and keep a straight face. With any luck, well be out of here before anyone notices you’re gone.”

  “Good plan. I approve.”

  Two people called out to her and they received more than a few strange looks, but no one tried to stop them. And by the time they reached the front veranda, their obvious furtiveness had reduced them to giggles.

  “We made it,” she said joyfully.

  Nico's laughter faded as he saw Quinn coming up the steps toward them. “Not quite.”

  Quinn nodded coolly to Nico, but gave Caitlin a smile. “Hello. What are you two up to?”

  “We’re running away for the afternoon,” Caitlin said in a conspiratorial tone. “But you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone.”

  He crossed his heart solemnly. “I promise. Are you running away to any place in particular or just running?”

  “Just running,” Nico said, not wanting to reveal to Quinn where they’d be.

  “We’re going into town,” Caitlin said.

  Quinn shot Nico a look that set off alarm bells in his head. One thing was for sure. Quinn didn’t trust Nico any more than Nico trusted him. The search of his room proved that if nothing else. But why?

  “I’ve just returned from there,” Quinn said, speaking to Caitlin. “It’s a charming place, and I have to say it hasn’t changed all that much since the last time I was here.”

  “When exactly was that?” Nico asked. “I don’t believe you ever said."

  Quinn gave a self deprecating laugh. “That’s because I can’t remember. Over the years, my sense of time has become warped.”

  “What did you do in town?” Caitlin asked. “Nothing much. Just wandered around. Revisited some of the places I had seen so long ago.”

  “And it really hasn’t changed?” she asked.

  “Not in any significant way. Oh, I think there’ve been one or two coats of paint added, and of course the church is finished now. But it looked to me as if the same families were running the same shops. The fudge even tasted the same. Sinful.”

  Caitlin laughed. “Ah, you visited the candy store. We’ll have to do that too,” she told Nico. “The fudge they make there is
to die for.”

  The phrase sent a chill up his spine. “We’d better get going,” Nico said quietly.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet,” Caitlin said, studying Nico. “Are you upset about something?”

  Silently, wearily, he cursed himself. He had forgotten how perceptive she could be. He’d been thinking about Quinn and wondering why he had searched his room. “No, I'm not upset, but I am sony. I guess I haven’t been very good company. ”

  They’d chosen to eat in a converted boathouse at the end of a long pier. Inside the rustic restaurant, old copper gleamed, and lobster traps adorned the walls. Their table was covered by plastic-coated oilcloth and was set by a big picture window. The ocean surrounded them and rolled beneath them.

  “You don’t have to be good company, Nico,” Caitlin said. “Just being with you is enough to make me happy.”

  His dark eyes narrowed on her. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re wonderful?”

  She tried unsuccessfully to swallow a sudden lump. “Right at this moment, I can’t remember a time. ” “Then let me tell you. You’re wonderful. ”

  “You’re going to make me blush.”

  He propped his arms on the table and took her hand. “I like it when you blush all over.”

  “I don’t blush all over. Maybe a little bit on the cheekbones, but definitely not all over.”

  “You do, and I'll prove it to you tonight. All I have to do is start kissing you on your—”

  “Do you have everything you need?"

  They both started and broke away. A small towheaded boy about five years old was standing by their table.

  “My mom sent me over to ask you. She said to say it just like how I said it.”

  Caitlin smiled. “Hi, Tommy. You know I almost didn’t recognize you, you’re getting to be so big.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I know.” He stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his overalls and looked at Nico. "Do you want some of my grandma’s blueberry cobbler? It’s real good. She baked two panfuls this morning.”

 

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