“Rachel, the bastard’s dead,” she rushed out before the woman could offer a greeting.
“What bastard?” Rachel asked. She thought most men fit that category.
“Timothy Blain. Who else? He’s dead.”
“Thank God.”
“My baby’s coming home. But how will I get her the good news? I don’t know where she is.”
“She probably reads the paper online.”
“I don’t think so. The authorities told her not to make any connection that would link her with Milwaukee. He’s found her before, you know. I don’t think she’d take the risk.”
“How would she find out, then?”
Dorothelia sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Give it a few days. See what happens.”
“I have to believe she’d find out some way.” She sucked in a breath and shouted for joy. “Oh, my gosh. She’s finally coming home.”
“Get dressed. I’m taking you out to celebrate.”
Alex hadn’t seen Senetra since their trip, and damn it, he couldn’t forget her. For just a split second when she got out of the water and before she slipped on the robe, he saw more scars and wondered again what had caused them. There were two reasons people left their homes and assumed new identities. Either they were in the witness protection program or they were on the run. Alex wondered which was the case with Senetra. He was tempted to call his cousin to learn more about her situation.
Every day since their weekend he wondered if her husband had beaten her. Timothy Blain was well connected. If he was abusive, Senetra would have had no option but to leave and assume another identity.
Thoughts of Senetra/Regina invaded both his sleep and his waking hours. Her moans racked his nerves. Heck, that wasn’t surprising when you were cooped up on Kodiak Island with a bunch of hardheads watching for polar bears and fishing. Two days of that was all he could take. Soon, he’d be back to work, dreaming of a woman’s touch—Senetra’s touch. Jessica was now relegated to a distant memory.
Lord, help him. He couldn’t help being as intrigued by Mrs. Senetra Blain, aka Regina Novak, as he’d been the first time he’d seen her three years ago. He found himself packing up his gear and telling his group adios. He needed one more encounter with Senetra Blain before he returned to work. In his mind, he’d blown her way out of proportion. Reality couldn’t be half as good as the dream.
On Wednesday, Danya Kirill’s boat returned and on her way from school, Senetra drove toward the marina. For the first few hours the men would have been busy, but the catch should have been unloaded by now. Senetra rounded a bend and stomped down hard on her brakes. A huge black bear stood in her path. She debated turning around, but obviously the bear had an agenda of its own.
The bear disappeared into the bushes, heading back to the mountains. It must have already raided someone’s trash can.
She heard a knock on her window and startled. Recognizing Alex, she lowered it.
“You okay?”
“Yes, thank you. I stopped to let the bear cross the road.” She stifled a groan. He looked so good and sexy. Her senses tingled with awareness.
“You can report it when you get home. The place is fairly infested with bears this time of year.”
“More than I want to see. But I guess we’re invading their space.” He had pretty brown eyes. She’d noticed them while they were skiing.
“That’s one way of looking at it. Have dinner with me. I know a nice little seafood place.”
Sit across from him over a meal? She didn’t think so. She was off men, even if her insides clawed with need—wanting another hot orgasm the likes of which he had given her in the hot tub. Senetra looked away and her gaze settled on that hand. That hand that knew how to touch her. No way. It was thirty degrees outside, but she was hot as hell right now. She turned off the heater.
“I have errands to run,” she finally said.
“After your errands. Tell me what time to pick you up.”
She hesitated. She hadn’t been out with a man in ages—except the weekend with him. And their lovemaking still unnerved her even though he’d apologized the next morning and they’d had a wonderful time skiing. He was great company, but still…
“Do I need to apologize for the hot tub again? I kind of lost it in there. The stars, the aurora borealis. Everything. We’ll be around people. I won’t lose my head again.”
Senetra stifled a groan. He did have to mention that. She turned even hotter with desire and embarrassment. She couldn’t count on not losing her head. She bit her bottom lip.
“You’ve already apologized enough,” she managed to say.
“Strictly platonic,” he said. “I’ll even talk Rick into bringing Kat if it’ll make you feel better. I won’t even try to sneak a kiss.”
She laughed. “Can I hold you to that?”
He held up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were a Scout, weren’t you? You aren’t fibbing?”
“Of course I was. It’s just dinner.”
Maybe it was time to get on the wagon again with someone who’d soon leave. It might be another ten months before he visited again.
“I thought you were going to Hawaii.”
“Change of plans,” he said with a smile. “I spent a couple of days at Kodiak, but after I got back Rick roped me into talking to the kids tomorrow.”
Senetra hedged. “I really don’t date. And you need to know up front there won’t be a repeat of Saturday night.”
“Consider me warned. No date. Just dinner.” All innocence, he grinned. “I’m harmless.”
They were all harmless in the beginning. He was anything but harmless in the hot tub.
“You’re going to let me stand out here in the open when a bear could come along and have me for dinner?”
“We have to get out of the road.” She’d completely forgotten where they were.
He tapped the roof. “Pick you up at six,” he said, and loped back to his car without waiting for her response.
She hadn’t said yes and she hadn’t given him her address, but then she really didn’t need to.
Senetra didn’t go by the marina after all. Danya Kirill would be exhausted from the trip and probably not in the best of temper. Besides, the man was surely eager to get home to his family.
After much debate, she dressed for dinner in black slacks and a turquoise sweater. She tied a colorful scarf around her neck, and gazed out the window. It was pouring rain. She reached inside the closet for a slicker and placed it across the chair. Driving rain was a common occurrence in the costal area.
Alex arrived five minutes later.
“It’s messy out there,” he said. “I’ll be happy to get takeout.”
“Since when did a little rain keep anyone in?” she asked as she donned her long blue slicker and led the way out of the apartment. She left the lights on in the living room and locked the dead bolt before they left.
Outside, his car was parked several spaces down from the front door. He held an umbrella over their heads, but the rain was driving sideways and splattered them anyway as they ran to the vehicle. It took them less than a minute to reach the restaurant.
Her mind flashed back to another time with Timothy and paranoia gripped her.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, his brow furrowed in concern. “Would you prefer to go someplace else?”
Senetra inhaled slowly, trying to think calmly as if she wasn’t about to run screaming down the street like a crazy woman.
“The food is exquisite here, but this wasn’t a good idea,” she managed to mutter.
“What’s wrong? Plenty of empty seats.” Alex gently moved her to the side so others could pass, but he didn’t let her go. He stroked her arm softly as if calming a frightened kitten.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“I sensed something was wrong the other night. Wanna talk about it?” he asked soothingly. “I’m a good listener.”
“It’s just…You�
�re a stranger. I…”
“We aren’t strangers—exactly.”
Her nerves shattered. “What do you mean?”
“Kat wouldn’t have invited me on the trip if I posed a threat.”
If Senetra continued along this vein, he was going to get suspicious. What was she thinking? He was already suspicious. The sudden panic attack confused and frightened her. She couldn’t control the nervousness. She’d never had a panic attack before.
“Ms. Novak,” Mark said, approaching them.
Senetra smiled at him as if he were a lifeline pulling her to safety. “Hello,” she responded too eagerly.
“Hello, Mr. Wilson.”
Alex mumbled a greeting around a frown, and Senetra smiled to cover his rudeness.
Mark shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “My dad’s back.”
“I saw The Tempest docked at the Spit.” The tightness in her chest began to ease. “I’ll talk to him soon.”
“He moved out,” he said in mild disbelief. “My mom signed the papers. They had a huge fight about it. I don’t think I can go.” His thin shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to destroy my parents’ marriage. Mom and Dad need each other.”
“Oh, Mark. I’m so sorry.”
“Dad hasn’t gotten over Viktor’s death. He needs me.”
“It’s too soon.” Senetra touched his arm lightly.
“I know. I loved my brother. It’s hard on me, too—on everyone.” He shrugged and gazed off to the sea. “I…I just don’t know what to do.”
His voice was so forlorn Senetra wanted to hug him and tell him all would be fine, but life didn’t work that way.
“Your dad needs time to work through his grief,” she said. “Just send the papers. By September he could have a change of heart.”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Anyway, have a nice dinner,” he muttered, and ambled away.
“I’ve met Mark’s parents,” Alex said. “They’ve really had a bad blow.”
Senetra nodded.
“You okay?” Alex’s gaze flickered over her, then focused on Mark’s retreat.
“I’m fine,” she said, the words rushing out on a breath. The conversation with Mark had chased the panic away. Sighing, she went inside and waited to be seated.
She understood Danya Kirill’s problem. It was hard letting fear go. She was allowing her own fear to destroy her evening. But if she didn’t take that first step, she’d be a hostage forever. She’d take things one step at a time.
This wasn’t a date, but she could at least try to enjoy her meal.
Several days had passed and Dorothelia still hadn’t heard from Senetra. She was going to have to find her. She was desperate to hear her daughter’s voice. In the den she pulled out the paperwork on Senetra’s donor father.
All week she’d wondered if Senetra had enjoyed her birthday. Had she spent it alone or had friends helped her celebrate? Dorothelia had purchased a gift, just as she’d bought a Christmas gift, hoping that one day soon, she’d have the opportunity to give them to her. Above all she hoped her daughter was happy and thriving.
She dialed the number and listened.
“Hello, is this the Avery residence?”
“Yes, it is,” a pleasant female voice responded.
“May I speak to Mr. Avery, please?”
“One moment, please.”
Dorothelia twisted the cord while she waited. It seemed at least five minutes had passed before she was greeted by a soothing male voice.
“Mr. Avery,” she said. “My name is Dorothelia Jackson. I apologize for troubling you. I don’t know if you remember me, but I told my daughter about you last summer and wondered if she contacted you.” Dorothelia knew she wasn’t making sense, but she was so nervous.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
How could he have forgotten their meeting? It was the turning point in her life, but not in his, she reminded herself. Dorothelia took a calming breath. The man probably thought she was a babbling idiot instead of a woman who had managed a business for over thirty years. “My daughter was forced into hiding. I told her you were her donor father and that you gave her permission to contact you.”
“You’re talking about my son, Mackenzie.”
“Oh.”
“Mackenzie’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me about your situation. Why did your daughter go into hiding?”
Dorothelia felt horrible. This poor man was grieving and she was intruding. “I shouldn’t be troubling you….”
“Please, Ms. Jackson. I’d like to help you.”
“Her husband was abusive. She filed for divorce and signed the papers just before she left. While she was in town, he found her….” She gathered a breath. “He’d tracked her down once before, but this time he tried to kill her. He didn’t know about your son. I told her about him and I thought maybe he’d help her.”
“I would have, had she come to me. Where is she now?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Her ex-husband died recently and she’s free to come home, but I don’t think she knows. I don’t know how to find her.”
“Mrs. Jackson, please come to Virginia and I’ll help you find your daughter. And your husband is welcome, too.”
“My husband died many years ago, but I’m a stranger—”
“You’re my granddaughter’s mother,” he stated firmly. “I’ll have a car pick you up from the airport. When can you come?” he asked, not giving her a chance to think this through.
“I’ll try to catch the first flight out tomorrow.”
“Call me back with the flight information. We’ll find your daughter, Mrs. Jackson,” he said with confidence, and hung up.
Dorothelia placed the phone on the hook. She was out of her mind going to a strange place to meet a strange man. She should call him back and tell him she’d changed her mind, but she didn’t have a clue on how to find Senetra.
Dorothelia’s hand hovered above the phone. He really didn’t need her there. They could communicate by phone or the Internet, but for some reason he wanted her there. And he accepted Senetra as his granddaughter without wavering or proof. What kind of man did that?
Dorothelia knew. Mackenzie had truly been his father’s son. Mackenzie had been so kind. She’d met him once. He was such a young man, no more than twenty-two, that she felt guilty for using his sperm to conceive and told him so. Usually the donor didn’t meet the host. Their situation was unusual. But he’d calmed her and she’d told him how desperately she and her husband wanted a child. In return he’d divulged information about his family’s Thoroughbred farm and that he was studying to become a veterinarian. When he talked about his career choice she knew he loved animals. Senetra had loved animals, too, although she didn’t have her donor father’s desire to become a vet. She inherited his gentleness, though. Such a gentle and caring man must have come from a strong and good family.
Dorothelia was going to Virginia.
George Avery hung up the phone with a smile on his face. Another granddaughter. God, how he was blessed.
“Leila,” he shouted.
His housekeeper, Leila Nelson, ran in from the kitchen with a dish towel in her hand. “What is it, George?”
“Prepare the best guest room. Company’s coming tomorrow.”
“For how long?”
George shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You’re getting ready for the Kentucky Derby,” Leila said, disgruntled. “How are you going to entertain for any length of time?”
“Whatever it takes.” He couldn’t contain a smile. “Congratulate me. I have another granddaughter.”
“How many of them are there?” she asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know, and the center won’t tell me.”
“At the rate you’re going, you could end up with twenty or thirty.”
“And I’ll welcome every one of them.”
How his life had cha
nged since he discovered he had grandchildren. His son had died only months before the first one, Noelle, appeared in his life. His wife had been dead for years. He’d hit bottom. He had nothing to live for. If it wasn’t for Colin, his best friend’s grandson, he would have wilted.
George smiled. And now he had not two, but three granddaughters.
“Leila, make sure the guest room is stocked with everything she might want. I want her to get the best treatment.”
“Don’t you think you should call your lawyer?”
“I’m sure you will.” George’s lawyer had insisted on the paperwork confirming the two grandchildren who’d contacted them, Noelle and Jasmine.
Leila sent him a saccharine smile. “I’ll get on it right away.” As much as Leila tried to impersonate the hardnosed voice of reason, she was as taken with the girls as he was. From the beginning, they’d wrapped her around their pinkies. But his lawyer had scolded him for making decisions without first running them by him.
George didn’t need a piece of paper to tell him these young ladies were his. He saw his wife, Margaret, and his son, Mackenzie, in each one. It was funny the way neither girl had met his wife, but Noelle had her smile, and Jasmine had her eyes and serious demeanor. They weren’t actually girls. They were women. Wonderful women, if he said so himself.
He suddenly remembered this young woman had disappeared because of someone who abused her. Just give me five minutes with that boy, George thought, burning hot with anger. Somebody should have taught the SOB how to treat women long ago. Now it was too late for him to learn, but that wasn’t his problem. He had a granddaughter and he was going to find her.
Once he got the details from Mrs. Jackson, he’d hire the private investigator he’d used in the past to find her. The firm was very good.
Dorothelia. What a lovely name to match an equally lovely voice. She must be a young woman, probably not much older than his son. But there was something about her voice that stirred desire in him he thought was long buried. George, my boy, you’re too old to feel these things for a woman you haven’t even met. He never was the kind to chase young skirts and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.
Safe in His Embrace Page 5
