Four days after the horrible shock Giselle had lived through when Tierney had collided with a car, she strode toward the door after the gate bell rang. She opened it and saw two women and one man standing on the gravel road next to a Chevrolet SUV. Frowning, it took her a few moments to recognize the women. One was Daphne Croy, owner of one of the many gift shops in the artisan area of town. The other woman was Leanne Walters. The man was unfamiliar, but Giselle surmised it was Leanne’s police husband.
Fighting a constricting sensation in her throat, Giselle felt her heart began to hammer. Why were they here? If what she’d heard about these women was true, they weren’t here to apologize to Tierney. Groaning inwardly at having to deal with virtual strangers, Giselle told herself everything would be fine. It was broad daylight, and she was within her own fenced garden. Forcing herself to assume the role she’d had some success playing—that of a self-assured, worldly woman—she raised her chin and walked toward the three of them by the gate with long, certain steps.
“Hello,” Giselle said calmly, proud her voice didn’t wobble. “What can I do for you?”
“Ms. Bonnaire.” The man extended his hand over the gate. Reluctantly, Giselle shook it. His grip was close to painful, and she nearly yanked her hand back. Instead she raised her right eyebrow at him until he let go. He obviously didn’t care that she was a composer and her hands were her tools. “My name is Bob Walters. I’m the chief of police at the East Quay precinct.”
“And you always take your wife and her friend with you on police business, Bob?” Giselle asked smoothly. Leanne pursed her lips, a reaction Giselle found quite satisfying.
“I’m not on duty today. Leanne wanted me to come along for two reasons. Could we perhaps go inside and discuss these matters?” He motioned toward the gate. “I see you have a good security system. Good thinking since you live alone out here.”
Giselle wanted to smack the condescending little prick with the electric flyswatter Frances had bought her a year ago. “No. We can talk here.” She wouldn’t bother to be politer than that.
“Please, Giselle…may I call you Giselle?” Leanne smiled cordially.
“Ms. Bonnaire is fine since we’re not actually acquainted.” Returning the smile with her own, Giselle knew she gave a very aloof and close-to-rude impression.
“Very well.” Leanne’s bloodred lips became a narrow line. “We have reason for concern regarding the woman you have employed. It wouldn’t be neighborly of us if we didn’t inform you of what we’ve learned. As Bob said, after all, you live out here alone.”
“And what, pray tell, have you discovered?” Giselle wasn’t interested, but she wanted to know what gossip these three were spreading in town. She wasn’t apprehensive regarding herself, but for Tierney, who did the shopping and drove into East Quay several times a week.
“Your employee, Tierney Edwards, has a record.” Bob Walters frowned and clearly attempted to mimic a very worried “neighbor.” “I did a background check on her, and at first I didn’t find anything, but my wife had a hunch I should widen my search, which I did. When I tried Illinois, I found a sealed juvenile record. Of course, I can’t access it without a court order, but it’s enough to warrant alarm.”
“I find all this concern and curiosity puzzling.” Giselle forced herself to keep her hands loose at her side. If she impulsively folded them over her chest, she would only come across as defensive. “When you think about it, Mrs. Walters, you encouraged Tierney to apply for a job in my home. You suggested that she fake references from Frances, and by doing so you said it would be easier to gain my trust. But Tierney is far too honest and caring to do that.”
“Honest and caring?” Leanne snorted derisively. “If you could have seen what she did to my dog five days ago, and heard what she said to me, you would think differently.”
“The dog you hired her to take for a walk, which she let have some fun with dogs he had met before? That dog?” Giselle placed a hand on her hip. “Not to mention how rude and unappreciative you were when she returned.”
“She was late!” Leanne’s eyes glimmered. “For all I knew, she could have sold Timo for scientific experiments.”
Leanne’s husband shot his wife a surprised look. “That’s taking it a bit too far, honey, but she should’ve been back on time. And being rude to strangers like that is a surefire sign she’s not stable. Combine that with her juvie record, and we see a pattern.”
“That’s right,” Leanne said and nodded.
“So you didn’t tell her to lie to get a job here then?” Giselle tilted her head and let her gaze travel between Leanne and Daphne, her trusty sidekick.
“I—that’s beside the point. I didn’t know then what I know now.” Leanne tugged at the zipper in her jacket.
“And what is that? Exactly.” Giselle was getting entirely fed up with these three.
“She’s unstable and has a record. What else do you need to know to take appropriate measures?” Leanne said, raising her voice. “I’d be very curious to see what’s in her juvie records.”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Giselle motioned farther down the gravel road. “She’s right there with my dog Charley. Better keep your distance. Charley looks like she’s been playing in the woods again. She’s dirty.”
“So was Timo. Full of sand. It took me forever to get all that dirt and knots out of his fur.” Leanne took a step closer to her husband. “You talk to her, Bob. She hates me for no reason.”
“Don’t worry, honey,” the burly man said and put his arm around her.
Tierney came closer, and to her credit she didn’t slow down her stride for a moment. Instead she walked up to the trio and regarded them calmly. Her eyes, normally so sparkling, held a dark, stormy hue. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“These concerned citizens of East Quay claim you’re about to sell my dog to science and steal the silverware.” Giselle spoke curtly.
“Not until I’ve burned down the house and let Charley destroy your roses.” Tierney passed the visitors, who gave her a wide berth to enter the code and open the gate. “Come on, Charley.” She walked up to Giselle. “You all right?” she murmured almost inaudibly.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Tierney raised her voice. “Leanne, why did you come here? Is it to make matters worse than they are? You had your say five days ago. In my opinion, you showed your true colors, and I have no desire to have anything to do with you again.”
“Now, wait a minute, little lady,” Bob said, but his wife interrupted him.
“You’re a criminal who has wormed your way into this poor woman’s house and taken advantage of her disability. It’s a horrible thing to do to someone fighting such weakness.” Leanne huffed.
“Are we having guests? Should I start the coffeemaker?” Stephanie called from the front door.
“No, thank you, kiddo!” Tierney yelled back and then returned her focus to the trio. “I just assumed we’d skip the coffee today. We have other guests coming later and can’t really afford to stand here and gossip.”
“Who’s that?” Daphne asked. “Good Lord, don’t tell me this woman convinced you to take in another stray?” Gaping, she placed a hand on her forehead and clearly did her best to look aghast.
“Now wait a fucking minute,” Tierney said with a growl. “Steph is not a stray. Nor am I. It’s about time you learned how to treat people with respect.” She scowled at the trio outside the gate. “Giselle may live in a beautiful house with all the privileges that come from being well off, yet that hasn’t dented her humanity and her ability to care for those less fortunate. But when it comes to you, it’s had the opposite effect. I doubt either of you has ever had to think about where to find your next meal—or when.”
“You’re shrewd. I’ll give you that.” Bob snickered. “You deflect and cast blame on your betters just so Ms. Bonnaire won’t ask the tough questions. I know you have a juvie record, and even if I can’t uncover any of the details just yet, I want you to know I’m watching you.”
“In a perfect world, your presence ought to make me feel safer, but oddly enough it doesn’t work. Oh, right. You’re not here to protect me, but rather protect Giselle from me, and perhaps from Steph too. Do you need protection, Giselle?” Tierney looked at her, and despite her teasing tone, Tierney’s eyes had dark shadows under them, as if she was exhausted.
“Not in the least. Come on. Let’s go inside. We need to bathe Charley before the others arrive. They’re bringing Helena and Noelle with them. And, God help me, Perry and Mason.”
“Really?” Brightening, Tierney called Charley, and they began to walk up to the house.
“Hey. You can’t just ignore our information,” Leanne said loudly.
Giselle swiveled. “Oh, I heard you, Leanne. I plan to have my lawyer consider what the law says about defamation and the police conducting unwarranted computer searches. At the very least, we’re filing a restraining order so you can’t harass either of these young women. In the meantime, I suggest you leave my property. As it happens, the gravel road is my private property, in case you missed the sign by the main road.”
Bob Walters grimaced as he turned to guide his wife and her friend back to the SUV. He shook his head and glared at Giselle. “This is how you repay people who care enough to get involved. Perhaps you deserve to have someone steal your property, or worse.”
“And that sounded like a threat. Good thing I have two witnesses.” Giselle had had enough of the concerned citizens and motioned for Tierney and Charley to walk in through the mudroom. She used the front door, and a stormy-eyed Stephanie met her there.
“Who the hell was that?” Stephanie, who rarely cursed, was livid. “Were they after Tierney?”
“Yes. And me, it felt like.” Giselle shook her head. What a blessing that Manon Belmont was coming to the house today. Normally, she didn’t feel comfortable using her friend’s connections, yet she was perfectly willing to do so again within just a few days, to keep the Walters couple and Daphne away from Tierney and Stephanie.
Twenty minutes later, a sweet-smelling, clean Charley bounded through the house, taking command of the still-covered love seat by the window in the music room. Giselle sat at the piano, going over her music sheets and the lyrics Tierney had been working on one last time. Today was a big day, as their meeting with Chicory Ariose had been moved up. Some of her clients’ concerts had been postponed, and since she was flexible, Giselle had worked around the clock the last four days to accommodate them.
Rubbing her neck, she closed her eyes and moaned at how stiff she was. Then she grew even more rigid when gentle hands warmed her aching muscles. As Giselle opened her eyes, she gazed up at Tierney, who, despite the gentle smile on her lips, looked very tense around her eyes.
“May I give you a massage?” Tierney moved her hands and applied increasing pressure.
“Sh-sure.” Giselle couldn’t keep her eyes open. As she squeezed them closed, Tierney’s strong fingers pressed against her trapezius. They hurt, but mostly they felt wonderful. So close behind her, Tierney smelled even better, a mix of soap and light body splash or lotion. Giselle inhaled greedily, grateful Tierney’s hands were already so much better.
“This good?” Tierney gently pinched the skin surrounding the hard muscles. “Try to relax more, or this might really hurt.”
“You’re doing…fine.” Giselle had thought she would get used to Tierney’s proximity and touches. They’d shared a bed, very chastely, since the accident. Giselle hadn’t asked Tierney to stay with her during the night, nor had Tierney questioned the arrangement. They usually fell asleep after politely telling each other good night, only to wake up and find that their bodies had found each other while they slept.
Now, Tierney bent and whispered in her ear, breaking Giselle out of her reverie. “Are you truly okay after going toe-to-toe with those self-proclaimed pillars of the community?”
“I really should be the one asking. They targeted you.”
“Only because I live here. When I talked to Leanne in town, both when I arrived here and when I walked her dog, she radiated jealousy and greed. You’re connected, you work with famous people, and you keep turning down their attempts to ‘help you.’ They only want to get a foot in the door. If their first plan had worked, I bet they thought I’d be so grateful to them I’d spill everything that goes on behind said door. Which I would never do.”
Tierney was certainly perceptive. Ever since she’d started working for Giselle, not counting all the drama that wasn’t really Tierney’s fault, Giselle had never had to resort to endless bouts of discussion to explain herself. Tierney simply knew what to do, and she got Giselle.
Reaching around Giselle’s shoulders and down toward her collarbones, Tierney massaged firmly, finding knots Giselle had no idea she had. The fact she was so close to her breasts made Giselle draw a new, long breath. “Tierney…”
“Shh.” Tierney alternated between firm strokes and caresses. “We’re going to be working all afternoon, and that means hours at the piano for you. Your muscles need to be loose and rested.”
“Oh, God.” Giselle’s stomach clenched, and that alone sent moisture down between her thighs. “You’re playing dirty, Tierney.”
“I’m not.” A faint yet so obvious laughter lived in Tierney’s voice. “I just want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.”
“That sounds pretty one-sided.” Giselle studied her perfect, blunt nails.
“You think so?” Tierney slid her hands up and down Giselle’s arms, finding uncharted territory when her fingers found a way in under the short sleeve of Giselle’s shirt. “Who took care of me when I was injured? Who went against her entire being, driving the car through rush-hour traffic, to get to me?” Tierney grasped Giselle’s shoulders and made her pivot on the piano stool. She cupped Giselle’s cheeks, looking into her eyes, her gaze serious. “Sometimes I feel I take such liberties when I touch you, since you’re so damn beautiful and way out of my league. I’m not a very selfless person, that much is clear, since I can’t keep my hands off you.” Tierney colored faintly. “So, there it is.”
“It is?” Giselle stood, pulling Tierney into her arms. “Do I give you any signals that I don’t like for you to touch me?”
“Well, no, perhaps not, but—”
“Or do I tell you to move out of my bed?” Giselle pushed her fingers into the auburn masses of hair and tugged very gently to expose Tierney’s neck. She pressed her lips behind the soft shell of Tierney’s ear and had to force herself not to suck the blood to the pale skin. She’d never given anyone a hickey, and this wasn’t the time to start.
“No. Oh, please don’t do that. I know we’re new. I mean together. We’re so very new and, I suppose, unconventional, but I don’t care. All I do care about is you—and Stephanie.” Trembling, Tierney rested her face against Giselle’s shoulder. “And I really want to be there for you. If it can be only as your assistant, so be it. If it’s more…” She gazed up again. “I can’t think of anything that could make me happier.”
“You really don’t know me,” Giselle said mildly. She ran her hand over Tierney’s unruly hair. “You’ve seen bit and pieces. I’m not easy to deal with most days of the week, and then there’s my, um, disability.”
Tierney shook her head. “If you think the latter would have anything to do with how I feel, you’re selling me short. And yourself. You have phobias and anxiety. Perhaps you don’t know, since you don’t exactly get out much,” Tierney said and winked, “but it’s not uncommon. Granted, not everyone suffers from panic attacks, but I also think you’ve proved to yourself that you can overcome them, little by little. After all, you did drive in broad daylight into East Quay.”
Tugging gently at Tierney’s hair, Giselle scowled. “That was because my fear of losing you usurped my other fears.”
“Exactly.” Tierney’s smile was equal parts sweet and infuriating. “You had other things to focus on. The possibility of me dying won over your agoraphobia.”
“Tierney!” Horrified, Giselle tugged even harder on the wild red hair. “Don’t jinx anything.”
“And you’re superstitious too. You’re such a find.” Tierney laughed irreverently, only to then grow serious. “I think it’s true though. You can will the anxiety to lessen, if not to go away instantly. I suppose it’s a process, but you’ve shown it’s possible.”
Tierney was right. “You’re not saying anything my former therapist didn’t try to convince me of.” She didn’t want to talk about her anxiety anymore and dipped her head for another kiss.
Tierney moaned. “I just want to hold you.”
“I second that.” Giselle pushed her warm hands under the back of Tierney’s T-shirt. Silky, warm skin created small bonfires throughout her system. Giselle gently caressed the small of Tierney’s back.
“Oh, fu—” Tierney clipped the word off and pressed her mouth against Giselle’s. Parting her lips, she teased the inside of Giselle’s, tempting her to reciprocate. Giselle couldn’t have resisted Tierney if she’d wanted to. And, oh Lord, she didn’t want to. In fact, resisting was the last thing on her mind. She opened her mouth and met Tierney’s tongue with her own.
“Tierney, angel…” Giselle whispered and then deepened the kiss further, reveling in the taste of Tierney’s lips and mouth while groaning out loud.
Tierney echoed the groan, clinging to Giselle and wrapping a leg around her hip. “Yes, like that…”
Voices came from the foyer, and Giselle slowly let go of Tierney’s lips and took half a step back. “I think it’s Chicory Ariose.”
“All four of them?” Tierney smoothed her hair back and then did the same with Giselle’s. “There. Better.”
“Thank you.” Giselle straightened, taking a deep breath. Tierney had never looked more radiant, but they had work to do, and she had to regroup. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Tierney crinkled her nose, causing tenderness to erupt like a volcano in Giselle’s chest.
Giselle let go of Tierney’s waist and ran her fingers along her jawline. “All right. Let’s go meet them.”