by Nora Roberts
Very slowly, his eyes on hers, he rose. “Did it ever occur to you, did it ever once cross your mind that he was inadequate, that he was a failure? That he was a spoiled, selfish bastard?”
Her lips curved a little. “Well, the last part certainly occurred to me. It also occurs to me that my little story is one – sided. I imagine Bax's view of our relationship would differ from mine, and not without some merit.”
“He's still pushing your buttons,” Holt said with barely suppressed fury. “So you're not clever? I guess anyone could manage to raise two kids and run a business. Dull, too?” He took a step toward her, only more furious when he saw her instinctive move to brace. “Yeah, I don't know when I've been so bored by anyone, but then most men are bored with women with brains and guts, especially when they're softhearted and hardheaded. Nothing puts me to sleep faster than a woman who'll sweat all day to make sure her kids are provided for. God knows you're not sexy. I just didn't have anything better to do last night than to spend it going crazy over you.”
He'd trapped her against the sink with his body and with an anger so ripe she could almost taste it. “You asked and I answered. I don't know what you want me to say now.”
“I want you to say you don't give a damn about him.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, his face close to hers. “I want you to tell me what I told you to tell me when I was inside you, when I was so full of you I couldn't breathe. You're mine, Suzanna. Nothing that happened before counts because you're mine now. That's what I want to hear.”
His hands slipped down to clamp over her wrists. Even as she opened her mouth to speak he saw the quick wince of pain. Swearing, he looked down and saw the bruises he'd already put on her. He jerked back as if she'd slapped him.
“Holt –”
He raised a hand to silence her, turning away until he could clear the red haze of fury from his mind.
He'd put marks on her skin. It had been done in passion and without intention, but that didn't erase them. By putting them there, he was no better than the man who had bruised her soul.
He jammed his hands into his pockets before he turned. “I've got things to do.”
“But –”
“We got off the track, Suzanna. My fault. I know you have to get to work, and so do I.”
So that was that, she thought. She'd bared her soul, now he would walk away. “All right I'll see you on Monday.”
With a nod, he headed for the back door, then swore, stopping with his hand on the screen. “Last night meant something to me. Do you understand that?”
She let out a quiet breath. “No.”
His hand curled into a fist on the screen. “You're important to me. I care about you, and having you here, this way, is...I need you. Is that clear enough?”
She studied him – a fist on the door, impatience in his eyes, his body rigid with passions she couldn't quite understand. It was enough, she realized. For now it was more than enough.
“Yes, I think it's clear.”
“I don't want it to end there.” He turned his head, and his eyes were dark and fierce again. “It's not going to end there.”
She continued to study his face, keeping her voice calm. “Are you asking me to come back?”
“You know damn well –” He cut himself off and closed his eyes. “Yes, I'm asking you to come back. And I'm asking you to think about spending time with me that isn't at work or in bed. If that doesn't spell it out for you, then –”
“Would you like to come to dinner?” He gave her a blank stare. “What?”
“Would you like to come to dinner, tonight? Maybe we could take a drive after.”
“Yeah.” He dragged a hand through his hair, not sure if he was relieved or uneasy that it had been so simple. “That would be good.”
Yes, it would be good, she thought and smiled. “I'll see you about seven then. Bring Sadie if you like.”
Chapter Nine
It wasn't candlelight and moonbeams, Suzanna thought, but it was a romance. She hadn't believed she would find it again, or want it. Flexing her back as she drove up the curving road to The Towers, she smiled.
Of course, a relationship with Holt Bradford was lined with rough edges, but it had its softer moments. She'd had a lovely time discovering them over the past few days. And nights.
There was the way he'd shown up at the shop once or twice, just before lunchtime. He hadn't said anything about the children, or her missing the routine – just that he'd come into the village for some parts and felt like eating.
Or how he'd come up behind her at odd moments to rub the tension out of her shoulders. The evening he'd surprised her after a particularly grueling day by dragging her and a wicker basket filled with cold chicken into the boat.
He was still demanding, often abrupt, but he never made her feel less than what she wanted to be. When he loved her, he loved her with an urgency and ferocity that left no doubt as to his desire.
No, she hadn't been looking for romance, she thought as she parked the truck behind Holt's car. But she was terribly glad she'd found it.
The moment she opened the door, Lilah pounced. “I've been waiting for you.”
“So I see.” Suzanna lifted a brow. Lilah was still in her park service uniform. Knowing her schedule, Suzanna was sure her sister had been home nearly an hour. As a matter of routine, Lilah should have been in her most comfortable clothes and spread out dozing on the handiest flat surface. “What's up?”
“Can you do anything with that surly hulk you've gotten tangled up with?”
“If you mean Holt, not a great deal.” Suzanna pulled off her cap to run her hands through her hair. “Why?”
“Right now, he's upstairs, taking my room apart inch by inch. I couldn't even change my clothes.” She aimed a narrowed glance up the steps. “I told him we'd already looked there, and that if I'd been sleeping in the same room as the emeralds all these years, I'd know it.”
“And he ignored you.”
“He not only ignored me, he kicked me out of my own bedroom. And Max.” She let out a hiss of breath and sat on the stairs. “Max grinned and said it was a damn good idea.” “Want to gang up tin them?”
A wicked gleam came into Lilah's eyes. “Yeah.” She rose then swung an arm over Suzanna's shoulders as they started up. “You're really serious about him, aren't you?”
“I'm taking it one step at a time.”
“Sometimes when you love someone it's better to take it by leaps and bounds.” Then she yawned and swore. “I missed my nap. It'd be satisfying if I could say I disliked that pushy jerk, but I can't. There's something too solid and steady under the bad manners.”
“You've been looking at his aura again.”
Lilah laughed and stopped at the top of the stairs. “He's a good guy, as much as I'd like to belt him right now. It's good to see you happy again, Suze.”
“I haven't been unhappy.”
“No, just not happy. There's a difference.”
“I suppose there is. Speaking of happy, how are the wedding plans coming?”
“Actually, Aunt Coco and the relative from hell are in the kitchen arguing over them right now.” She turned laughing eyes to her sister. “And having a delightful time. Our Great – Aunt Colleen is pretending she simply wants to make certain the event will live up to the Calhoun reputation, but the fact is, she's getting a big kick out of making guest lists and shooting down Aunt Coco's menus.”
“As long as she's entertained.”
“Wait until she gets hold of you,” Lilah warned. “She has some very creative ideas for floral arrangements.”
“Terrific.” Suzanna stopped in Lilah's doorway. Holt was definitely hard at work. Never particularly ordered, Lilah's room looked as though someone had scooped up every piece of furniture and dropped it down again like pick – up sticks. At the moment, he had his head in the fireplace, and Max was crawling on the floor.
“Having fun, boys?” Lilah said lazily.
Max looked up
and grinned. She was mad, alt right, he thought. He'd learned to handle and enjoy her temper. “I found that other sandal you've been looking for. It was under the cushion of the chair.”
“There's good news.” She lifted a brow, noting that Holt was now sitting on
Lilah's hearth, looking at Suzanna. And Suzanna was looking at him. “You need a break, Max.”
“No, I'm fine.”
“You definitely need a break.” She walked in to take his hand and pull him to his feet. “You can come back and help Holt invade my privacy later.”
“I told you she wouldn't like it,” Suzanna said when Lilah dragged Max from the room.
“That's too bad.”
With her hands on her hips she surveyed the damage. “Did you find anything?”
“Not unless you count the two odd earrings and one of those lacy things we found behind the dresser.” He tilted his head. “You got any of those lacy things?”
“Not really.” She looked down at her sweaty T – shirt. “Up until a few days ago, I didn't think I'd need any.”
“You've got a real nice way of wearing denim, babe.” He rose, and since she wasn't coming any closer, moved to her. “And...” He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her back to her hips. “I get a real charge out of taking it off you.” He kissed her hard, in the deep and urgent way she'd come to expect. Then he nipped her bottom lip and grinned.
“But anytime you want to borrow one of those lacy things from Lilah...”
She laughed and gave him a quick, affectionate hug, the kind she gave so freely that never failed to warm him from the inside out. “Maybe I'll surprise you. How long have you been here?”
“I came straight from the site. Did you get the rest of those whatdoyoucallits in?”
“Russian olives, yes.” And her back was still aching. “You were a lot of help on the retaining wall.”
“You were out of your mind to think you could build that thing on your own.”
“I had a part – time laborer when I contracted.”
He shook his head and went back to searching the fireplace. “You may be tough, Suzanna, but you're not equipped to haul around lumber and swing a sledgehammer.”
“I'd have done it –”
“Yeah.” He glanced around. “I know.” He tested another brick. “It did look pretty good.”
“It looked terrific. And since you didn't swear at me more than half a dozen times when you were hefting landscape timbers, why don't I reward you?”
“Oh, yeah?” He lost his interest in the bricks. “I'll go get you a beer.”
“I'd rather have –”
“I know.” She laughed as she walked out. “But you'll have to settle for a beer. For now.”
It felt good, she thought, to be able to joke like that. Not to be embarrassed or edgy. There was no need to feet anything but content, knowing he cared for her. In time, they might have something deeper.
Full of energy and hope, she rounded the last step and turned into the hall. All at once, there was chaos.
She heard the dogs first, Fred and Sadie, barking fiendishly, then the clatter of feet on the porch and two high bellowing shouts.
“Mom!” Both Jenny and Alex yelled the single syllable as they burst into the house.
The rich and fast joy came first as she bent to scoop diem up in her arms. Laughing, she smothered them both with kisses as the dogs dashed in mad circles.
“Oh, I missed you. I missed you both so much. Let me look at you.” When she drew them back arm's length, her smile faltered. They were both on the edge of tears. “Baby?”
“We wanted to come home.” Jenny's voice trembled as she buried her face against her mother's shoulder. “We hate vacation.”
“Shh.” She stroked Jenny's hair as Alex rubbed a fist under his eyes.
“We were unmanageable and bad,” he said in a trembly voice. “And we don't care, either.”
“Just the attitude I've come to expect,” Bax said as he walked through the open front door. Jenny's arms tightened around Suzanna's neck, but Alex turned and threw out his Calhoun chin.
“We didn't like the dumb party, and we don't like you, either.”
“Alex!” Her tone sharp, she dropped a hand on his shoulder. “That's enough. Apologize.”
His lips quivered, but the stubborn gleam remained in his eyes. “We're sorry we don't like you.”
“Take your sister upstairs,” Bax said tightly. “I want to speak with your mother in private.”
“You and Jenny go in the kitchen.” Suzanna brushed a hand over Alex's cheek. “Aunt Coco's there.”
Bax took a careless swipe at Fred with his foot. “And take these damn mutts with you.”
“Cheri?” This from the svelte brunette who continued to hover in the doorway.
“Yvette.” Keeping her arms around the children, Suzanna rose. “I'm sorry, I didn't see you.”
The Frenchwoman waved distracted hands. “I beg your pardon, it's so confusing, I see. I just wondered – Bax, the children's bags?”
“Have the driver bring them in,” he snapped. “Can't you see I'm busy?”
Suzanna sent the frazzled woman a look of sympathy. “He can just leave them here in the hall. If you'd like to come into the parlor...go see Aunt Coco,” she told the children. “She'll be so happy you're back.”
They went, holding each other's hand, with the dogs prancing at their heels.
“If you could spare a moment of your time,” Bax said, then cast a glance up and down her work clothes, “out of your obviously fascinating day.”
“The parlor,” she repeated and turned. She struggled for calm, knowing it was essential. Whatever had caused him to change his plans and bring the children home a full week early was undoubtedly going to fall on her head. That she could handle. But the fact that the children had been upset was a different matter.
“Yvette –” Suzanna gestured to a chair “ – can I get you something?” “Oh, if you would be so kind. A brandy?”
“Of course. Bax?” “Whiskey, a double.”
She went to the liquor cabinet and poured, grateful her hands were steady. As she served Yvette, she thought she caught a glance of apology and embarrassment.
“Well, Bax, would you like to tell me what happened?”
“What happened began years ago when you had the mistaken idea you could be a mother.”
“Bax,” Yvette began, and was rounded on.
“Get out on the terrace. I prefer to do this privately.”
So that hadn't changed, Suzanna thought. She gripped her hands together as Yvette crossed the room and exited through the glass doors.
“At least this little experiment should have rid her of the notion of having a child.”
“Experiment?” Suzanna repeated. “Your visit with the children was an experiment?”
He sipped at the whiskey and watched her. He was still a striking man with a charmingly boyish face and fair hair. But temper, as it always had, added an edge to his looks that was anything but appealing.
“My reasons for taking the children are my concern. Their unforgivable behavior is yours. They haven't any conception of how to act in public and in private. They have the manners and dispositions of heathens and as little control. You've done a poor job, Suzanna, unless it was your intention to raise two miserable brats.”
“Don't think you can stand here and speak about them that way in my house.” Eyes dangerously bright, she walked toward him. “I don't give a damn if they fit your standards or not. I want to know why you've brought them back this way.”
“Then listen,” he suggested, and shoved her into a chair. “Your precious children don't have a clue what's expected of a Dumont. They were loud and unmanageable in restaurants, whiny and fidgety on the drive. When corrected they became defiant or sulky. At the resort, among several of my acquaintances, their behaviour was an embarrassment.
Too incensed for fear, Suzanna pulled herself out of the chair. “In ot
her words, they were children. I'm sorry your plans were upset, Baxter, but it's difficult to expect a five – and six – year – old to present themselves as socially correct on all occasions. Even more difficult when they're thrust into a situation that wasn't any of their doing. They don't know you.”
He swirled whiskey, swallowed. “They're perfectly aware that I'm their father, but you've seen to it that they have no respect for that relationship.”
“No, you've seen to it.”
Deliberately he set the whiskey aside. “Do you think I don't know what you tell them? Sweet, harmless little Suzanna.” She stepped back automatically, pleasing him.
“I don't tell them anything about you,” she said, furious with herself for retreating.
“Oh, no? Then you didn't mention the fact that they had a bastard brother out in Oklahoma?”
So that was it, she realized, struggling to settle. “Megan O'Riley's brother married my sister. There was no way to keep the situation a secret, even if I had wanted to.”
“And you just couldn't wait to sling my name around.” He gave her another shove that sent her stumbling back.
“The boy's their half brother. They accept that, and they're too young to understand what a despicable thing you did.”
“My affairs are mine. Don't you forget it.” Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her up against the wall. “I have no intention of letting you get away with your pitiful plots for revenge.”
“Take your hands off me.” She twisted, but he forced her back again.
“When I'm damn good and ready. Let me warn you, Suzanna. I won't have you spreading my private business around. If even a hint of this gets out, I’ll know where it started, and you know who'll pay for it.”
She kept herself rigid, kept her eyes steady. “You can't hurt me anymore.”
“Don't count on it. You make sure your children keep this business of half brothers to themselves. If it's mentioned again –” he tightened his grip and jerked her up on her toes “ – ever, you'll be very sorry.”
“Take your threats and get out of my house.”
“Yours?” He closed a hand around her throat. “Remember, it's only yours because I didn't want this crumbling anachronism. Push me, and I'll have you back in court in a heartbeat. And I'll have it all this time. Those children might benefit from a nice, Swiss boarding school, which is exactly where they'll be if you don't watch your step.”
