The next afternoon, Alex took a chopper out to one of Ventura’s offshore drilling rigs, ostensibly to try and lay the groundwork for negotiations that would hopefully ward off a strike that had been threatening for weeks. But his real reason lay buried in the company’s personnel files he’d had his secretary scour all morning.
The day was hot and clear, with unlimited visibility and sunlight glimmering on the whitecaps. The helicopter skimmed over the water, heading due south, toward a black dot on the horizon. As it neared the drilling platform, Alex stared out the window. It never failed to amaze him, the lengths humans would go to for energy. The Gulf waters were relatively mild most of the time, but Alex had seen the aftermath of a drilling rig that had been torn apart by a sudden squall in the North Sea. The crews barely had time to evacuate before the platform had collapsed into the sea.
He could see men down there now, going about their duties. Some of them glanced up as the chopper circled, and then the pilot vectored in on the landing platform.
The moment they touched down, Alex removed his headset and climbed out. Leaning forward, he hurried from beneath the rotating blades as a man came out to meet him.
“Mr. DeWitt?” The man extended his hand. “Larry Crawford.”
Alex shook hands with him. “Ray Beauchamp worked on your crew?”
“Yeah. Come on inside. I’ve got what you wanted to see.”
Alex followed the man down a narrow, noisy passageway. The platform was huge and well anchored, but Alex could feel the pull of the sea, the slight sway beneath his feet when he tried to stand still. When he’d worked on a similar rig twenty years ago, he’d been one of the lucky few who’d adapted quickly, but there’d been plenty who hadn’t. Seasickness was common, and the hours were grueling and stressful. They’d worked in shifts, twenty-four, seven for three weeks straight, and then a week off. Some of the men never came back after that first stint. But the money had been good, and Alex had been able to save enough to put himself through college.
Crawford’s office was small and messy, and he made a swipe at some papers on his desk as he sat down. “Have a seat.”
Alex remained standing. “You’ve got Ray Beauchamp’s personal effects?”
Crawford bent down, picked up a cardboard box from the floor, then dropped it on his desk with a thud. “This is it. Everything that was in his locker.”
“Have the police contacted you?”
Crawford rubbed a hand along his chin where gray bristles were starting to show. “I hadn’t talked to anybody until your secretary called this morning. That’s the first I’d heard about Ray.”
“Was he due back yesterday morning?”
“Yeah, he’d been off for a week. You never knew if he was going to turn back up or not. I wasn’t especially surprised when he didn’t.”
“If he was that unreliable, why’d you keep him on?”
Crawford rubbed his chin again. “Because, as you can see, the accommodations out here aren’t exactly what you’d call commodious. Some people can’t take it. We have fellows coming and going all the time. That’s why, when you get somebody like Ray, you’re willing to put up with some crap just to keep him on. Say what you will about him, but he was the best damn welder I ever saw.”
Alex rifled through the box of Ray Beauchamp’s personal effects. There wasn’t much. A paperback novel, a couple of Penthouse magazines, some odds and ends of clothing.
“According to his personnel file, he’d only been working for Ventura a few months,” he said.
“That’s right. But he had prior experience. That’s why I hired him on. He’d worked these rigs for years.”
Alex glanced up. “Did you know him before he came to work for Ventura?”
“Yeah, we both used to work for Exxon, years and years ago.”
“Did you know anything about his personal life, his family? Anything like that?”
Crawford shrugged. “Not really. He stayed pretty much to himself. There was one time, though, we ended up on the same rotation. We were off the same week. When we got back to town, he took me to some seedy bar down in the Quarter for a few drinks. He got to talking after a couple. He told me this story about his old man. The guy was a New Orleans cop a long time ago, and he up and went crazy one night, chopped up Ray’s mama with a butcher knife, right there in front of Ray and his sisters. He would have killed them, too, Ray said, if his older sister hadn’t gotten them out of the house. Turned out, the old man had killed a whole bunch of other people before that. Some kind of damn serial killer, I guess. He got sent up, but they didn’t keep ‘em on death row like they do now. Fried ‘em pretty quick back then. Ray said he and his sisters watched the old man get the juice. After that, the two girls changed their names, because of what their old man did. But Ray...” Crawford shook his head. “He acted like he was kinda proud of it.”
“He tell you anything else?”
Crawford shrugged. “No. And to tell you the truth, I never knew whether to believe him or not. He told it dead serious, but like I said, he’d had a couple of drinks. Any more than a couple, and Ray got real mean.”
“Do you know if his sisters are still alive?”
“Ray said one of them was still living in New Orleans, but like I said, that was years ago. I don’t know if she’s still there or not. I didn’t associate with him much after that night. He quit his job a few weeks later, and I never saw him again until he turned up here.”
“You’re sure this is everything that was in his locker?” Alex asked, closing the flaps on the box.
Crawford hesitated. “Look, I know you’ve got a lot of clout with Ventura, and if you say this is none of my business, that’s the end of it as far as I’m concerned. But I can’t help wondering what your interest is in Ray Beauchamp, why you came all the way out here to look at a few puny possessions. You figure Ventura might have some liability where that woman he attacked is concerned?”
“That woman he attacked is my fianc;aaee,” Alex said.
Crawford looked astonished. “You don’t say. Nobody told me anything about that.” He sat back and whistled. “Man, she must be one helluva woman, is all I can say, if she got the better of ol’ Ray Beauchamp.”
“She is,” Alex said, and realized he meant it.
Crawford looked suddenly nervous. “All right, there is something else. Something I didn’t put in that box. But I don’t want you to think I kept it for myself. I was afraid if I put it in with all that other junk, it might just walk off, if you get my drift. And I kinda had in mind to try and find Ray’s sisters when I got the time. Give it to one of them.”
“What is it?”
Crawford unlocked his desk drawer, pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to Alex. “I don’t know much about jewelry, but it looks pretty real to me. Where do you figure a guy like Ray Beauchamp got something like that?”
Alex unzipped the bag and let the ring slide into his palm. Light from a window behind Crawford’s desk sparkled off the diamonds that surrounded an exotic blue gemstone. A Kashmir sapphire, the exact shade of Aubree’s eyes.
* * *
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Naomi stood before the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her suite and critiqued her appearance. Did she look like a bride? she wondered nervously. She certainly felt like one. The butterflies in her stomach had been going wild ever since she’d awakened at five o’clock that morning.
She’d shopped for hours the day before, finally coming across a boutique on Royal Street that carried a collection of the most feminine, romantic dresses she’d ever seen. After hours of deliberation, she’d finally settled on a two-piece ivory silk brocade, simple in design but exquisitely cut. It fit like a dream, and as Naomi stared at herself in the mirror, she wondered what Alex would think. Would he like it? Would he think her beautiful?
As beautiful as Aubree?
Stop it! she chided herself. This wasn’t even a real wedding. What did it really matter what Alex thought? The only reason they were getting married was because of Taryn.
Then why did it feel like a real wedding? A little voice persisted. Why was she spending so much time fussing with her appearance? Why was she so apprehensive about...tonight?
What would he expect of her?
Naomi grew even more nervous thinking about it. She’d only been with one man in her entire life, and that had been years ago, when she was just a teenager. And Clay Willis had hardly been a man of the world. He hadn’t taught her a thing about the fine art of seduction, but merely how cramped and uncomfortable lovemaking could be in the back seat of a car.
Would she be able to please Alex? Did she even want to try?
What if he didn’t expect anything of her? What if he really wanted a marriage in name only?
No, no, that kiss proved otherwise, didn’t it?
Oh, she was making herself crazy, and she had to stop thinking about it before she changed her mind about the whole thing.
A knock sounded on the door, and Naomi started. She hadn’t slept well all week, not since the attack, and she told herself, as she went to answer the door, that it was perfectly natural she’d be jittery. Someone had tried to murder her, and now days later, she was getting married to a man she’d known just over a week. She’d be concerned about herself if she wasn’t on edge.
Glancing through the peephole, she saw a man wearing the maroon blazer with the monogrammed S on the breast pocket, which signified the Spencer staff. She drew back the door, and the man smiled as he offered her a package.
“This just came for you, Miss Cross.”
When she took the box, he didn’t wait for a tip. “Have a nice day,” he said cheerfully.
Naomi carried the package into her suite and sat down on the sofa to open it. It was beautifully wrapped in delicate silver tissue paper trimmed with a silver-and-white bow. With trembling fingers, she tore it open, and then when she saw the blue velvet box inside, she grew even more excited.
Opening the hinged lid, she breathed a silent “Oh!” as she stared down at the single strand of pearls. They reminded her of moonbeams, lustrous and delicate. And the diamond stations that went all the way around glittered like starlight.
The card inside said simply, “Alex,” and without quite knowing why, Naomi burst into tears, completely ruining her makeup.
* * *
“WILL YOU STOP that infernal pacing?” Foley demanded. “One would think you’re a real bridegroom with honest-to-goodness prenuptial jitters.”
“I am a real bridegroom,” Alex snapped. “And since this was your idea, I’d think you’d be a little more understanding.”
“Oh, I feel sorry for you, buddy. I really do.” Foley clapped him on the shoulder. “Having to be married to a woman who looks like Naomi Cross—jeez. You must be really dreading the wedding night.”
“Oh, shut up,” Alex muttered, but in truth, he’d been thinking of little else all morning. Not that he was dreading his wedding night with Naomi. Far from it. He just didn’t want to appear too eager. He didn’t want to make her nervous or frighten her. She’d been through a terrible ordeal, and she needed patience and understanding. He just didn’t feel all that patient at the moment.
And, of course, the fact that he hadn’t told her about Aubree’s ring being in Ray Beauchamp’s possession was also weighing on him. He’d thought about going to the police with the information, but Alex didn’t trust James Robicheaux. Somehow he knew that Robicheaux would find a way to turn the tables and implicate Alex. After all, Ray Beauchamp worked for Ventura.
So instead, Alex had gotten in touch with Naomi’s private detective. Whether it had been the right thing to do or not, he had no idea.
He turned to Foley. “What time is it?”
“Two minutes later than the last time you asked me. Relax. She’ll be here.”
“She’s late, isn’t she?”
“Only a couple of minutes.”
What if she wasn’t coming? What if she’d changed her mind?
Alex’s gaze drifted across the room to where Taryn sat quietly reading a book. He hadn’t been certain she’d actually come today even though she’d reluctantly agreed to be Naomi’s maid of honor. She’d been strangely subdued all week. Rather than reacting with shock and indignation about Alex’s sudden decision to marry, she’d continued to show nothing but indifference. When he’d tried to talk to her about it, she’d just shrugged and said philosophically, “You’re a grown man. You can do whatever you want.”
“But I don’t want to make you unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy. I have my own life.”
And that was exactly what worried Alex. What was going on inside that head of hers? Was she really trying to find out who’d killed her mother? Could she really be in danger, as Naomi seemed to think?
A shiver of dread coursed through him. If anything happened to Taryn...if anything happened to Naomi...
He had to find some answers, and fast.
Foley tapped him on the shoulder and he turned. Naomi had just come into the outer office of the judge’s chambers, and the moment Alex spotted her, his heart stopped.
Beside him, Foley muttered under his breath, “Lord have mercy—”
But Alex tuned him out. He tuned everything out as he walked over to Naomi. They might have been the only two people in the room. “I was worried there for a minute you’d changed your mind.”
“No, I just...” She touched the pearls at her throat. “Thank you for my gift. They’re beautiful.”
“You do them justice,” he said, then cleared his throat. An awkwardness came over them both, and suddenly Alex didn’t have a clue what to say to her.
Naomi saw Taryn, and her eyes, as always, lit in pleasure. “She came.”
Alex didn’t say anything, but his throat tightened as he watched Naomi glide across the room and sit down beside his daughter. They had the same dark hair, the same brown eyes. He’d never noticed before how much they resembled each other. Like mother and daughter.
And in that moment, he knew. A fist of pain closed over his heart.
* * *
TARYN GLANCED UP when Naomi sat down beside her. She didn’t smile, but her gaze was neither hostile nor friendly. She looked a bit...confused.
“I’m glad you came today,” Naomi told her.
Taryn tossed back her dark hair. “I told you I would.”
“I know. But under the circumstances, I would have understood if you’d changed your mind.”
Taryn merely shrugged, but Naomi couldn’t help wondering if the short, black dress Taryn had chosen to wear was her own subtle way of conveying her displeasure.
“Taryn, there’s something I want to say to you,” Naomi began tentatively.
The dark eyes, so like Sadie’s, turned on her. “Let me guess. You aren’t going to try to take my mother’s place, but you hope eventually we can become good friends.”
Naomi smiled ruefully. “One would almost think you’d been through this before.”
“No. But what else is there to say?”
Naomi got the message loud and clear. Taryn wasn’t going to protest this marriage, but she wasn’t going to welcome Naomi with open arms, either. It wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe in time...what? They’d become friends? Naomi wanted more than that. So much more.
“I have something for you.” She opened her handbag and withdrew a tiny, gold-wrapped package.
Taryn looked surprised. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
She took the package, but her gaze remained skeptical. “You didn’t have to buy me a present.”
“It’s customary for the bride to give something to her maid of honor. Go on.” Naomi nodded to the package. “Open it.”
Taryn reluctantly tore away the paper and opened the lid of the jeweler’s box. Inside, nestled against black velvet, was a tiny butterfly charm suspended from a delicate gold chain that sparkled brilliantly when Taryn lifted it. The tiny wings were encrusted with gemstones no bigger than the head of a pin.
Naomi had found it yesterday while she’d been shopping for earrings to match her dress. The moment she’d seen the pendant, she’d wanted it desperately for Taryn. She’d forgotten all about the earrings.
“It’s beautiful.” Taryn’s dark eyes shimmered with what might have been tears, but she quickly glanced away.
“Shall I fasten it for you?”
“It doesn’t exactly match what I’m wearing,” she muttered, but she handed the chain to Naomi and pulled aside her hair.
Naomi’s fingers trembled as she struggled with the tiny clasp, and she thought to herself that she would do anything, anything, to have more moments like this.
And then it was time to go inside, and before Naomi could even begin to have second thoughts, the ceremony was over. She and Alex exchanged their vows, and when she looked down as he slipped a ring onto her finger, she saw the sparkle of yet more diamonds. A girl could get used to this, she thought dizzily.
When it was her turn to slip the ring she’d bought for Alex on his finger, she was relieved that it slid over his knuckle without effort. Almost as if it was meant to be. He bent to kiss her, a brief closing ritual, nothing more, but Naomi’s lips parted automatically, and she heard him catch his breath.
For just a moment, the kiss deepened. His arms tightened around her, and Naomi closed her eyes, relishing the moment. She could feel his heart beating against hers, and an image flashed through her mind. The two of them together, tonight, in an even more intimate embrace.
When he released her, their gazes clung, and Naomi could have sworn she saw her own fantasy reflected in the depths of his eyes.
* * *
HE TOOK HER TO LUNCH at the Palm Court Restaurant on Chartres. Taryn had begged off the celebration, insisting that she had a math test that afternoon she couldn’t miss. Alex had been on the verge of insisting that she come with them, but Foley had stepped in and offered to drive her to school. “You two lovebirds want to be alone anyway,” he said with a wink.
So Naomi and Alex had headed off to the restaurant alone, and once they were ensconced in a cozy alcove that looked out on the restaurant’s famous fountain, he ordered champagne. Naomi sipped hers slowly as she studied the menu, trying like crazy to avoid eye contact with Alex. She felt like a teenager again. She felt the way she had after her first time with Clay Willis, when they’d hurriedly dressed and then hadn’t known what to say to each other for the rest of the night.
“Naomi.”
A shiver slipped up her spine at the way Alex said her name. He wasn’t Clay Willis. Far from it. “Yes?”
“You’re not eating your lunch.”
“I suppose I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.
“No need to be nervous now. The deed’s done.”
Not quite, she thought. “Marriage is a big step, Alex. No matter the reason.”
He smiled suddenly, surprising Naomi. “You know, I believe that’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name.”
Naomi blushed. “I couldn’t very well keep calling you Mr. DeWitt, could I?”
“No, I suppose not.” He glanced at her barely touched plate. “Do you want me to order you something else?”
“No, the food is delicious. The restaurant is beautiful. Everything is perfect. Thank you for going to so much trouble.”
“This was your first wedding,” he said. “I know it’s probably not the way you imagined it would be, but...I wanted to make it special for you.”
Naomi’s eyes glistened with sudden tears. “It is. And the fact that Taryn came—”
When she broke off, Alex’s gaze on her deepened. “You love her very much, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Even without the DNA test.”
“I don’t need any test to prove she’s my daughter.”
Alex drew a long breath. “Naomi—”
Their waiter came by then to present the check, and Naomi never knew what Alex had meant to say. She excused herself to freshen up, and once in the ladies’ room, she sat down at the mirror and stared at her pale reflection. The same reflection that had stared back at her this morning, only that woman had been Naomi Cross. Now she was Mrs. Alex DeWitt.
Naomi began to tremble uncontrollably.
When the door opened, she hastily pulled a tube of lipstick from her bag and pretended to freshen up.
Instead of going to one of the stalls, the woman came over and sat down beside Naomi. Their gazes met briefly in the mirror before she pulled out her own lipstick and began to expertly reapply it.
She was an older woman, late fifties, but still very attractive, with blond hair and vivid blue eyes. She wore a navy suit and the most exquisite gold jewelry Naomi had ever seen.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” she asked.
Naomi glanced at her in surprise. “No. Should I?”
“I’m Gwen Bellamy. I saw you come in with Alex, and I couldn’t resist having a word with you.”
Naomi remembered the threat Joseph Bellamy had made the other day, and she stared at the woman in trepidation.
“You look like a deer caught in the headlights,” Gwen said with an airy laugh. “Don’t look so frightened. I don’t bite.”
Good to know, Naomi thought.
“It might surprise you to learn that I’m on your side in all this.”
“How do you even know who I am?” Naomi asked in confusion.
Gwen made a production of fluffing her blond hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. My husband has had you thoroughly checked out, and when he becomes preoccupied with a woman as young and as lovely as you, you can bet I have her checked out as well.”
“Mrs. Bellamy—”
“Gwen.”
Naomi shrugged helplessly. “What do you want?”
The pleasant expression disappeared from Gwen Bellamy’s attractive face, replaced in an instant by a look of cold calculation. “Taryn has been telling Joseph every move you and Alex make. He knows that the two of you have plotted this quickie marriage because you think that together you’ll be able to thwart his efforts to get custody. But you won’t stop him. Not that way.”
Naomi stared at her in shock. “What do you mean?”
Gwen Bellamy turned on the stool and faced Naomi, her expression hard and brittle beneath the expertly applied cosmetics. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I despised Aubree. I hated everything about her. She was just a little girl when Joseph and I married, but even then she was a manipulative, selfish little witch who tried to destroy anything and everyone who crossed her path. She maligned me to Joseph every chance she got, and he always took her side over mine. I was glad when she grew up. Glad when she moved out and took Louise with her. I couldn’t stand either one them. They were always plotting behind my back, always figuring new ways to torment me. I thought things would get better after they left.” Her mouth tightened, showing her age. “But Joseph couldn’t let her go.”
“What are you saying?” Naomi asked almost fearfully.
Gwen’s gaze met hers, then flickered away. “He adored her. He would have given her the world on a silver platter, but she cared nothing for him. She used him like she used everyone else, and that only made him cling all the harder to the glorified image he had of her. To the dreams he had for her. The only thing Aubree ever cared about was her daughter.” She paused, her eyes going very dark and very cold. “That’s why I want you to take that away from her.”
Naomi gasped. “Aubree is dead, Mrs. Bellamy.”
She swung around to the mirror, staring at her own reflection. “Not to Joseph. He sees her in Taryn. He’ll never be free of her while Taryn is still alive.”
Naomi’s blood went cold.
Gwen Bellamy’s hand crept to her throat. “If Taryn is your daughter, then claim her legally. Do it now. It’s the only way to stop Joseph. Get her out of New Orleans, do you understand? Alex should never have brought her back here. It was bound to stir memories—”
“What memories?” When the woman remained silent, Naomi said, “Memories of the night Aubree was murdered?”
Gwen’s gaze met hers in the mirror. “If Taryn is your daughter, then you have to get her out of New Orleans. The sooner the better. And if she really is Aubree’s daughter—” the blue eyes closed briefly “—then God help her.”
* * *
THE HOUSE ON OCTAVIA STREET was silent when Naomi and Alex arrived after lunch. “I’ve given Louise the weekend off so we have the place to ourselves,” he explained as he tossed his keys into a crystal bowl that sat on a carved oak table in the foyer.
Naomi cleared her throat. “What about Taryn? Won’t she be home from school soon?”
“She’s spending tonight and tomorrow night with a friend.”
“Do you think that wise?” Naomi asked in alarm. After her conversation with Gwen Bellamy, she didn’t want to let Taryn out of her sight.
“Taryn’s supposed to be grounded, but I decided to make an exception just this once. I thought it might be easier if you and I had some time to...get used to things. I know the girl’s parents. She’ll be okay. Besides. You can’t keep a teenager locked in her room, Naomi.”
He was probably right, and Naomi appreciated his thoughtfulness, but she couldn’t get Gwen’s warning out of her head. She went into the living room and stood gazing around at the room, her home now. When Alex came up beside her, she was acutely aware of his presence.
He was very tall and very masculine, and he made her want things she’d long ago given up wanting.
Naomi wished suddenly that they were a normal bride and groom, with not just the evening to look forward to, but the rest of their lives. Their marriage, however, was far from normal, and the events that had led up to it were even more extraordinary.
“What kind of relationship did Aubree have with her father?” she asked quietly.
Beside her, Alex stiffened. “Why do you ask?”
She turned to face him. “I saw Gwen Bellamy in the ladies’ room at the restaurant today.”
“So that’s what’s bothering you. I knew it was something. What did she say to you?”
Naomi tucked her hair behind her ears. “She said that if Taryn really is my daughter, I should get her out of New Orleans. The sooner the better. And I think she has a point.”
Alex’s brow furrowed. “Taryn is legally my daughter. You can’t just waltz off with her.”
“I realize that. But I’m becoming more and more convinced that the reason she has suppressed memories is because she saw something the night Aubree died. I think coming back to New Orleans has triggered something for her. You said she’s undergone a drastic change. Maybe that’s why. Maybe it’s the reason she’s become so obsessed with finding Aubree’s killer. But if she starts asking the wrong questions...if she starts to remember...”
Alex took her arms. “You’re forgetting something, Naomi. Taryn wasn’t in the house that night. She and Louise didn’t come back from the beach until the next day.”
“So Louise says.”
“Why would she lie?”
Naomi shrugged. “I don’t know. But there’s something...odd about that woman.”
“You can’t accuse someone of murder because they’re odd,” Alex said grimly.
“I’m not accusing her of murder,” Naomi defended. “From what you’ve told me, she and Aubree were very close. But maybe she’s protecting someone.”
“Who?”
Naomi moistened her lips. “Someone she felt as much loyalty to as she did to Aubree.”
He gazed down at her in astonishment. “You mean Joseph? He was crazy about Aubree. He would never have hurt her.”
“People do a lot of sick things in the name of love,” she said softly. “He put Aubree on a pedestal. He had this golden image of her. What if she did something...what if he found out something that destroyed that image? That threatened to destroy everything he cared about?”
“But murder?” Alex’s hands dropped from her arms. He looked suddenly stunned.
“Maybe that’s why he tried so hard to pin it on you.”
A look of rage flashed across Alex’s features. He turned and strode from the room. After a moment, Naomi hurried to follow him. He was standing in his study, phone to his ear as he paced back and forth. “No, no, that’s okay. I don’t need to speak with her. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.” He listened for a moment, then said, “Look, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep a close eye on Taryn. I know the girls were talking about going to a movie or something, but maybe they could just rent some videos. I’ll explain everything when I see you on Sunday.”
He hung up and glanced at Naomi. “Taryn’s fine. I don’t think we need to worry about her tonight. I know this family. I trust them. They’ll take good care of her.”
Naomi wanted to believe him, but she was still worried. “Everything’s connected,” she said. “The hospital in Eden. Aubree’s murder. Sadie’s disappearance. I know they’re all connected, and that’s why someone sent Ray Beauchamp to kill me.”
Alex came around his desk to stand in front of her. “I don’t know how they could be,” he said grimly, “but I’m afraid you may be right.”
* * *
ALEX showed Naomi around the house that afternoon. It was a lovely home, full of beautiful furnishings and interesting objects of art that Alex and Taryn had collected in their travels overseas. But Naomi couldn’t relax and enjoy the tour. Nor could she appreciate the anticipation of sharing such a comfortable home with Alex and Taryn. None of them would have any peace until they found out the truth about Taryn’s birth and Aubree’s death.
Except for Louise’s quarters, which were off the kitchen in the back, the other bedrooms were upstairs. The master suite was at the far end of the hall, secluded from the others by an archway that led to a private corridor. The suite was large and airy, done mostly in bold autumn shades of gold, brown and hunter-green. A masculine room that made Naomi shiver in awareness.
Her suitcases were on the bed. Alex had had someone from the hotel deliver them earlier, along with her Jeep.
“You probably want to get unpacked and changed,” he said, backing toward the door. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
Naomi nodded, trying to keep her gaze from drifting to the king-size bed.
“You can rest for a while if you want,” he said. “We’re not on a timetable. We can go out to dinner whenever you want.”
“All right.”
Alone to unpack, Naomi felt oddly self-conscious, putting her things in dresser drawers that had been cleared out especially for her, and a closet that had been rearranged to accommodate her meager wardrobe.
Alex’s presence was everywhere—his shaving supplies in the bathroom, his cologne on the dresser. Manly things that did very feminine things to her insides.
Once everything was put away, Naomi glanced around, unsure what to do next. She could go downstairs and find Alex, but he had seemed in a hurry to leave her, as if he needed some time to himself. Maybe that was what they both needed—time to adjust.
Removing her wedding outfit, Naomi hung the skirt and top in the closet, then turned back the bed and crawled between the sheets in her slip. She suddenly felt very tired, and a nap might help refresh her, might ease her trepidation for the coming night.
But her dreams were far from restful. As if watching from a distance, she saw Aubree’s body floating in a bloodred swimming pool. Taryn stood on the side, screaming that someone had killed her mother. Naomi wanted to go to her, but she couldn’t move. Not even when a menacing shadow appeared behind Taryn.
Run! Taryn, run! she wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Naomi could only watch in terror as the shadow moved closer. She thought for a moment it was Ray Beauchamp, but it wasn’t. It was—
“Naomi! Wake up!”
She opened her eyes with an effort. When she saw a shadow leaning over her, she gasped and tried to move away.
“It’s me. It’s Alex,” he said soothingly. “You were having a nightmare.”
She struggled to sit up. “How long have I been asleep?” she asked groggily.
“A few hours.”
“A few hours!” No wonder the room was so dim. She glanced toward the window, saw that darkness had fallen outside.
“What time is it?”
“After nine.”
She’d been asleep for five hours! She ran a hand across her eyes. “I’m sorry. Is it too late to go to dinner?”
“Not in New Orleans. Do you feel like getting out?”
Not really, she thought. The bed felt so warm and cozy and safe. Outside, in the darkness, evil lurked.
“Taryn—” she said in alarm.
“I just talked to Taryn. She’s fine.”
Naomi lay back against the pillows. “I had a dream about her. I dreamed she was in danger.”
“Taryn’s safe and sound. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re the one who was almost killed,” he reminded her grimly.
Naomi sighed. “I know.”
“Tell you what,” he said, patting her arm. “You stay put. I’ll fix something downstairs and bring it up to you.”
“You don’t have to wait on me,” she protested. “I’m not used to that.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I want to do it.”
He started to get up, but Naomi caught his arm. “Alex?”
“Yes?”
“We did the right thing, didn’t we? For Taryn?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Naomi. All I know is that I’d do anything for my daughter. If a DNA test proves that you gave birth to her, I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want you to take her away from me.”
Naomi’s eyes flooded with tears. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t believe you would. Not unless you thought it in her best interest. But this way, we can both be with her, for as long as she’ll let us.” He lifted his hand and pushed back her hair very gently.
Naomi shivered as he trailed his fingers down the side of her face. “It won’t be so bad,” he whispered.
At the moment, Naomi didn’t think it was bad at all. She was feeling quite...good.
He leaned over her, his gaze deep and intense in the shadows. “I’m very attracted to you, Naomi.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she moistened her lips and tried to forget the fact that she wore only a silk slip beneath the covers.
His fingers glided over her throat, where only faint remnants of the bruises remained. He traced the outline of lace where her slip dipped between her breasts, and Naomi’s heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
Very deliberately, he took the edge of the cover and pushed it away, exposing her, and his gaze moved greedily over the slip, her bare legs. He drew his breath in sharply.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I think I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office.”
A little over a week ago, but it seemed like a lifetime. So much had happened. Naomi felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment forever.
She put her hands up to his shoulders and drew her to him. Their mouths touched, and Naomi trembled. He knew just how to kiss her. He knew how to awaken needs inside her that she hadn’t even known existed. He was certainly no clumsy teenager, and this wasn’t the back seat of a car. And yet there remained a forbidden aspect to their lovemaking that thrilled Naomi to her core.
He tugged the straps of her slip down her arms, and then slid the silky fabric over her hips, along her legs. The other bits of silk followed, until she wore nothing but moonlight. When he stood to remove his own clothing, she reached down and drew the sheet over her.
He lay down beside her. “Don’t cover up. Let me look at you.”
“I’m shy.”
“Why would a woman who looks like you be shy about her body?”
Her gaze met his in the darkness. “I’m inexperienced. I’ve only been with one other man.”
He looked surprised. “The boy who got you pregnant? I say boy, because I certainly wouldn’t call him a man,” he said scornfully. Then he gave her a reproachful look. “That was a long time ago, Naomi. A long time to be celibate.”
“I’ve...had other things on my mind.”
His voice grew sober. “I know.” He reached under the cover to take her hand and then lifted their entwined fingers to his lips. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Naomi.”
“No, I’m not. I’m a survivor, that’s all.”
“Any man would be lucky to have you as the mother of his children.”
Naomi was deeply moved. A tear coursed down her cheek, and he thumbed it away. “Hey,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. This is not a night for sadness.”
“I’m not sad,” she sniffed. “I’m just emotional. There’s a difference.”
“Then let’s get more emotional, shall we?”
She smiled shyly. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They were lying side by side, and he drew their bodies together, until they were touching so intimately Naomi could hardly breathe. But this wasn’t like the other times she’d known. The few times. There was no fumbling. No hurrying. Alex took his time with her, arousing her body in ways she’d never even imagined.
He stroked her, whispered to her, kissed her long and deep until she grew hot and shivery all over. A strange tension began to build inside her, and she clutched Alex’s shoulders as he moved over her. And then they were moving together, the tension growing tighter and tighter...
She whispered his name on a heated plea.
“Let it happen,” he murmured.
And it did, a glorious release that lifted Naomi from her everyday world and dropped her, for one brief instant, into paradise.