Who was she kidding? He wasn’t safe with her.
She closed her eyes trying to think of anything other than how the tingling effects of Zachary’s touch spread through her like wildfire.
Zachary leaned near, taking in the fragrance of her clean, damp hair. The memory of how she looked in the tub came back to haunt him… her glistening wet skin, her hair lay slicked back from the recent washing and her luminous green eyes widened in surprise. He imagined she looked like a mermaid caught in a net, frantic to be free. His lips curved. He had her now. She felt good in his arms. She belonged there, and it didn’t matter to him where she came from or what her past might hold. It only mattered she was here now, married to him and he wanted her to be his.
He gently moved her hair away and kissed the nape of her neck. He could feel her pulse quicken with every touch. She didn’t move, and he thought that perhaps she held her breath. “Gillian?” His voice caressed. She turned in his arms so he cradled her. He looked at her and saw the same passion he felt mirrored in her eyes. He wanted to taste her lips but hesitated, afraid to rush. “Remember, seduce her gently,” he said to himself. However, her soft lips parted and that was his undoing. His mouth covered hers hungrily.
His conscious mind screamed at him to temper his haste, but his body ignored the warnings. His hand slid beneath her strange garment that barely covered all of her. His fingertips touched her warm flesh.
Gillian raised her hand to stroke his rugged face. She kissed him back. She loved the way he felt and the way he made her feel, her senses were throbbing with the strength, the touch and the scent of him. His hand swept to the back of her neck as he deepened the caress that was full of passion and need. The sweet throbbing of his lips made her shift closer causing a low grumble from him as his tongue moved into her mouth with urgency. In the back of her mind, she wondered if he could possibly be the man she dreamt about for she had never felt this way in another man’s arms. Jerry had known how to awaken her physical being with his touches, but Zachary made her heart and soul respond. If only Zachary would say the words that haunted her, she would know she belonged here.
She took a breath. “Zachary, we—” His mouth moved over hers, smothering her words. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist and she didn’t protest as he began to discard her clothes. Nor did she stop him from removing his as passion pounded the blood through her heart, chest and head. So eager for his touch, she forgot everything else.
She buried her hands in his hair as his lips brushed her nipples with pure and explosive pleasure. Her desire for him overrode all thoughts, sending her beyond the point of no return and she welcomed him into her body, gasping in sweet agony. She clung to him desperately as he thrust, rocking her hips to meet him until they tumbled over the last edge of pleasure.
He rolled over, taking her with him so she lay on top of him. He sighed in pleasant exhaustion and a smile curved his lips. “You truly are my wife now.”
She stiffened at those words. She gave herself willingly and he thought she gave a commitment to what? Did he believe they could make this marriage work?
He played with the tendrils of her hair, letting them slide through his fingertips. “Gillian, I—”
“Stop.” She didn’t let him finish as she scrambled out of his embrace, gathering her clothes. She turned away from him. She covered her skin that Zachary had kissed only moments before. “This can’t happen again.” Her voice shook.
He stood and walked over to her. She stiffened at his touch, but he made her turn to look at him. Her eyes pooled and a tear slid down her cheek.
“Why do you fight it? You feel the desire as I do.”
She chewed on her lower lip, wanting to tell him the truth, but knowing she couldn’t. His gaze locked with hers refusing to let her go as the sexual electricity sparked between them. She felt a painful ache building between her legs and if he reached for her now, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
No, she couldn’t allow it. She had to sort out her thoughts, arrange them, and impose order before it was too late. She had to make him think she didn’t care about him.
“This was nothing, but sex. You don’t love me and I most certainly don’t love you.” She angrily pulled away, taking a step back.
“Really. You feel nothing? Then why are your cheeks flushed from the passion we both shared? Why are you crying? You must feel something.”
She brought her hand to her face. “Please Zachary, you don’t understand.”
“Explain it then.”
“I don’t belong here. One day I’ll have to leave.”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re my wife.”
“Yes, yes I do believe I was present at our wedding, even though it was nothing more than a farce.”
“You can call it what you like, it still doesn’t change the fact that we are married. I am assuming you have been informed of what is expected of a wife?” He took a step toward her. Seeing his intent, she tried to side step him but he was too quick. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. Her words of contempt were smothered, as he kissed her. He didn’t allow her to break away. She struggled at first but as her body responded, her struggling ceased and she surrendered. Then he let her go. Defeated, she hid her face against his chest. He tenderly rubbed her back, his voice gentler now. “Don’t fight it. Let me take care of you. We can build a life together. Please don’t cry.”
She couldn’t help it. She cried more out of frustration than anything else, but he wouldn’t understand.
“I’m here, and he’s not. If this man you pined for truly cared for you, he would have never relinquished his love.”
Gillian heard what Zachary said. He proclaimed everything she would want to hear except there was no mention of his love. He would probably think her old fashioned, but she wanted it. She wanted the man from her dreams. She wanted to hear him speak the special endearment meant only for her. That man loved her completely and her soul wept for his touch. She refused to settle for anything less. She broke away from his arms. “I’m sorry. We aren’t meant to be together. Fate has other plans for both of us.” Tears streaming down her face, she ran upstairs to the safety of her room.
***
Zachary ran his fingers through his thick hair, frustrated and angry with himself. This hadn’t been how he wanted the night to end, but once his lips and hands touched her, he couldn’t stop. It was as if he knew her every curve, knew how to stoke the fire within her to take them both over the edge and he did with sweet ecstasy. What could the man she loved have that he couldn’t give her? Jealousy was something he abhorred and he refused to see that was exactly what ate at him. Someone else held her heart. He couldn’t see a way around it and yet he needed to if he wanted to win her hand. Their marriage may have been forced upon them, but he wanted it to work. He wanted her to fall in love with him for he felt he was halfway there himself.
He paced back and forth until he couldn’t stand the confinement. He knew he had to get out of the house or suffocate.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sprawled on her bed, Gillian hugged the pillow as she wondered how her vow not to become involved shattered so easily. With one touch, she responded to Zachary’s seduction of passion. What was wrong with her? She should have stopped him. As if her situation here wasn’t complicated enough, she had to go and make it worse.
Something wet nuzzled her arm and she jumped away. When she heard the pathetic whine, she felt completely foolish. “How did you get in here, girl?”
Molly barked.
Gillian leaned forward and rubbed Molly behind the ears.
Molly yapped again then whined.
“What is it girl? Are you trying to tell me something?”
Again, she barked but this time she moved toward the closed door. Molly stood there looking at it then back to Gillian.
Gillian swung her legs over the side of the bed. She somehow sensed that Molly wanted her to follow. In the
dim darkness, she slipped on her Nikes. She went to her purse and took out her mini flashlight. She had a hunch they were going somewhere and she had no plans of stumbling along in the dark.
“Okay Molly, I’m ready.” She told her as she opened the door. Molly immediately bolted out of the room and down the stairs.
Even though, Gillian had heard the front door slam hours ago, she couldn’t help poking her head in the library. It was just as she had suspected. The room stood empty making her wonder where Zachary had gone. For a fleeting moment, she imagined him in Violet’s arms, but she quickly pushed the distressful image from her mind.
She turned toward the door and to where Molly waited for her.
“I’m going to open the door, Molly, but if I’m to follow you, you have to go a little slower. I’m not a sprint runner.”
Molly wagged her tail and barked her reply.
***
Zachary headed toward the Under-the-Hill saloon, where for a few hours at least, he planned to forget his problems. When he walked in the front door, the noise blasted him with rowdy patrons. Billowing cigar smoke clouded the room and stung his nostrils. He heard a girl’s high-pitched shrills as she offered illicit love for the night, and a man who’d had too much to drink banged on the out-of-tune piano. The setting fit Zachary’s dour mood perfectly.
He sauntered over to the bar with a purpose. He usually didn’t drink to excess. One reason was his father. The man ended up losing his self-respect; and two, because if a gambler wasn’t careful, he could lose his life from pure carelessness. However, tonight he didn’t heed his own warnings.
Vince Kendricks stood behind the wood-carved bar, towel-drying a glass. He looked up when Zachary leaned against the bar. “Good evening, Mr. Creighton. What will it be tonight?”
“Whiskey.” Vince handed him a shot, which Zachary downed in one gulp. “Another,” he said as he slammed the glass down.
Vince lifted his brows. “It isn’t like you Mr. Creighton to have more than one glass. Is something amiss?”
Zachary chose to ignore the question. “Another,” he repeated. He noted Kendricks’ hesitation. “Is this a saloon or not?” Vince poured the drink. Zachary downed it again before he turned around and scanned the tables. He was pleasantly surprised to spot Cyrus Locke sitting in on a game at the far corner of the saloon. A game of cards would take his mind off his problems, and being able to torment Cyrus was an added bonus.
“I think I’ll see if I can sit in on a game or two. Give me the bottle, will you?” Vince reluctantly handed it to him. Zachary nodded his thanks and headed over to the table.
Cyrus noted Zachary’s intrusion with a huff. “What brings you here tonight, Mr. Creighton? You look mighty retched, if I do say so myself. Are you having trouble with your little woman already?” Cyrus’ chuckle grated on Zachary’s nerves, but he chose to ignore the jibe.
“I’d like to sit in on a game,” Zachary stated. He glared down at his rival, daring him to object.
Cyrus gave him a once over and a dismissal all in one breath. “We don’t need anyone else, Mr. Creighton, why don’t you go home and play a game with your misses.” There was snickering all around, but one blazing glare from Zachary, quieted the table immediately.
“I want to sit in on a game,” he repeated as he took a swig out of the opened bottle.
One of the men stood. “I was going to head home.” He nervously glanced at Zachary. “Why don’t you take my place?”
Nobody argued.
Zachary plopped down taking another long drink, letting the liquid burn his throat.
Cyrus sneered. “Earlier this evening, I entertained everyone with the tale of your drunken display on the Ida Belle. No one believed me.” He eyed the bottle Zachary clutched.
“You’d do best not to gossip.” Zachary glared. “Now, deal me in.”
They had been playing for an hour. Zachary was on his second bottle but somehow managed to win almost every hand.
“Does your wife know you’re here?” Cyrus asked.
Zachary narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so concerned with my life?”
“No reason. I just thought you’d be too preoccupied with your new bride and wouldn’t …”
“What? Have time to harass you?” Zachary clicked his tongue. “I will always have time for you.”
“I once thought your pursuit against me amusing, but it has become tedious.”
“I suppose it would, since I win and you lose.”
Cyrus’ nostrils flared. “Zachary Creighton, you have proved a thorn in my side and I plan on removing it.”
“Don’t threaten me, Mr. Locke.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s a promise.”
Zachary would have said more, but he noticed Ellery stood in the doorway of the saloon, motioning to him.
“Well Cyrus, I guess it will have to be another night. I have business that needs my attention.” Zachary stood and swayed. He blinked the room into focus and headed over to Ellery.
They left the saloon and walked toward the waterfront. “So did you find out something about Gillian?” Zachary slurred, making Ellery look at him questionably.
“Have you been drinking?”
“What of it? A man can drink, can’t he?” He managed to say even though his tongue felt like it was three times its normal size.
Ellery shook his head. “Really Zachary, you must slow down.”
“Just tell me what you have.”
“As you wish. What I found out was the lady you are married to must have given you an alias. No one has heard of Gillian Metcalf.”
They had reached the river’s edge and came to a halt. The fog had rolled in, giving the water an eerie effect as if it swirled with smoke.
Ellery continued, “Not only did she not give you her correct name, she lied about the city. There isn’t any Huntington Beach. She must have made up the town, too.”
“Hell and damnation!” Zachary ran his hand through his hair. “Who is she?”
“I can keep checking if you want. She couldn’t have appeared out of thin air aboard the Ida Belle. There must be someone who knows her.”
“It’s him that’s behind this?” Zachary slurred. “I should have known.” He let out a loud bark of laughter. “What a fool I have been. It’s so obvious.”
“What are you babbling about?” Ellery asked. “Just how much have you been drinking?”
“I haven’t had that much to drink.” Zachary leaned heavily on him.
“Your foul breath betrays you, my friend.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”
“By all means, continue.” Ellery steadied him on his feet.
“Cyrus Locke set this up. Gillian must know him. That’s how she ended up in my room. He arranged it, from her screaming and him coming to the rescue, finally his accusation, which I couldn’t readily defend. He’s trying to ruin my name, my reputation. Gillian has no intentions of staying with me.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. That’s who she’s in love with.”
“With whom?” Ellery frowned.
“Cyrus Locke.” Zachary said, as if this was a known fact.
Ellery burst out laughing. “You really have had too much to drink if you think Gillian would be interested in Cyrus Locke. That’s ludicrous.”
“Is it? He has Creighton Manor.”
Worry darkened Ellery’s expression. “I know you will disagree, but not everyone wants possession of Creighton Manor.”
Zachary frowned and waved his hand. “Fine, then it is money. Cyrus is loaded. He didn’t lose a dime during the war since he kept his money tied with his Northern connections. He probably offered her a fine price. Well, I won’t let him get away with this. His little scheme won’t work because he forgot something.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m married to his mistress and I won’t—”
Ellery placed a hand on Zachary’s arm to quiet him.
The
y both heard the distinct echo of boots on the wooden planks and searched through the drifting fog for the men.
“Who’s out there?” Zachary demanded. “Show yourself.”
Two men burst through the haze, guns drawn. One grabbed Ellery, holding a gun to his head. The other aimed a gun at Zachary. His mouth curved in an evil grin. “Good bye, Mr. Creighton.”
Zachary lunged at his assailant, slamming into him as he pulled the trigger. The bullet went wild, whizzing over his head. They rolled on the ground both grappling for the weapon.
***
Gillian followed Molly, but she worried she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to the house. Then another worry flitted across her mind. The heart of the town loomed ahead and she recalled how the people aboard the Ida Belle reacted toward hertwenty-first century attire. She glanced down at what she wore with a sigh. “I should have changed.”
They reached the water’s edge where the fog thickened. In the distance she could hear a piano playing and laughter from the Under-the-Hill saloon. Just great, Molly took her to the questionable part of town where killings probably happened and no one lifted a hand to stop them. She’d had enough and wanted to head back, but then she heard the gunshot. Molly’s fast pace turned to full speed charge. Gillian ran to keep up. Her heart pounded in her chest with a sinking feeling. “Zachary!” she cried and ran faster to reach him.
She came upon Ellery first and a man holding a gun to his head. Molly circled them, nipping at the assailant’s ankles. The distraction aided Gillian. She jumped on the assailant’s back, pounding his head with her flashlight. The man let go of Ellery, trying to fend her off. Ellery whirled around and grabbed the gun away.
Ellery gasped. “Dear God. Gillian? Is that you?”
“Get this crazy woman off me,” the man screamed.
Gillian was more than happy to oblige now that she saw Ellery held the weapon. She jumped off and pushed him forward.
“Get on the ground and put your hands over your head,” Ellery demanded. The man threw himself down.
Gillian searched the dock for Zachary. She could hear scuffling and grunts. Then she saw him. Zachary fought with another man who towered over him. She saw a flash of what looked like a knife in Zachary’s hand. The man must have had a knife too for he lunged at Zachary. Zachary grabbed his side and staggered backwards. Gillian screamed and ran forward, but she couldn’t reach him in time as she helplessly watched him fall backwards into the water. Without a thought of what might be below, she jumped in after him.
Creighton Manor Page 8
