LATER THAT EVENING as Emma prepared dinner, Ryan and Nicole ran around the backyard blowing bubbles.
An hour earlier, when she arrived home, she’d showered and changed, choosing a pretty floral halter-top sundress instead of her usual T-shirt and jeans. She’d even felt the urge to apply some mascara and lipstick. She wanted to feel pretty, feminine.
Who knew falling in love and having that love returned would have that effect on her?
When Ryan had shown up twenty minutes ago, she could tell he’d had the same reaction. Freshly showered and shaved, he’d tied his hair in its usual ponytail, and had chosen a moss-colored polo shirt that made his eyes appear so green they put emeralds to shame.
She paused in her chopping and glanced out the window over the sink, smiling as Ryan spun in a slow circle with Nicole’s giant bubble maker in his hand. He really would make a good step-father. She knew Jared would agree.
A few minutes later, her two favorite people in the world walked in the back door, Nicole chatting away as usual.
“…so I told Bobby he shouldn’t do that to someone, how would he like it if someone pushed him out of the way without saying excuse me and he said he would just push them down if they tried. Well, that got the teacher’s attention, and she made Bobby sit in the timeout corner for the rest of recess.”
“Nicole, would you set the table for Mommy?”
“Okay,” she said, and then turned to Ryan. “We’ll finish this discussion later.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I sure hope so. I want to hear how this ends.”
Emma smiled as she turned back to her task. These two were going to be the best of friends.
Ryan came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. Her stomach flipped. God, if this man ever found out what he did to her, she’d never hear the end of it.
“Have I told you I’m in love with her too?” Ryan snatched a cube of red pepper.
Emma chuckled. “No, but I kind of figured that one out on my own.”
“Mommy, the table is set.” Nicole called from the dining room. “Can I go play with Jillian until dinner’s ready?”
Emma checked her watch. She still had a lot of preparation to do, but she’d have Ryan there to help her. “Okay, but be home in an hour.”
The front door slammed, and a few minutes later, shrieks of girlish glee floated over from the next yard.
“She sure knows how to have fun, doesn’t she?” Ryan said.
Emma chuckled. “Ah, to be young again.”
Placing his hands on her waist, Ryan pulled her against his chest and brushed his lower lip up and down her ear. She shivered. “Can I help you with something?”
Emma leaned her head back. God, the man had barely touched her and already she felt like she was melting into a smoldering puddle onto the floor. The scent of his cologne and that melted-chocolate voice pushed her to the edge of a sensory overload. “You could—you could slice the black olives.”
With his lips nibbling at her neck, he slowly ran his hand from her shoulder down her arm to the open can on the counter, brushing over her breast along the way. “You mean these olives?”
Her heart pounded so loud she almost missed his question. “Yes.”
Emma spun around, and then his lips were on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Ryan backed her up against the counter, the bulge in his pants poking her in the abdomen. She opened her thighs to allow him to nestle against her. She shuddered with a sudden wave of arousal.
Ryan’s kiss was powerful and passionate. Emma speared her tongue between his lips, swirling and teasing in a sensual dance. The smell of his cologne always made her feel light-headed, but right now, she was soaring. She slid her fingers along the angle of his jaw to the tie that held his hair in place, while his roamed down her back to cup her bottom.
Their gasps broke the silence. Heated friction flared between them as they swayed to their own rhythm.
Ryan could almost die from wanting her. His body trembled. His breathing bordered on panting as he moved his body between her thighs and ground his erection against her.
He was rewarded with a moan that matched his own.
He slid her hair free of its clip, and it fell around her shoulders like a silken curtain. He ran one hand through its long, soft strands. The other slid into the top of her dress, caressing her breast. Her skin was so smooth and soft beneath his callused hand. In contrast her nipple was hard in response to his thumb’s eager strokes.
“Is it possible to orgasm just from being kissed?” Her breathing was so labored it caused his hair to tickle his cheek.
“I’ll let you know for sure in a minute.”
She giggled between kisses.
God, he missed making people laugh. It felt so good to be him again, to have someone in his arms, to hold, to trust with his darkest fears.
His intense reaction to Emma had nothing to do with his lack of female companionship over the last five years. He could’ve had sex last week and it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. He’d still want this woman with as much ferocity as he did now.
And want her he did.
Her giggles subsided into deep moans when Ryan untied the ribbons holding up the top of her dress, letting it fall to expose her breasts. To see her flesh, to feel it in his hands, shattered any and all hopes of taking this slow.
It appeared Emma had the same idea as she gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head. Her hands explored his chest, dragging her nails across his nipples and around to his back.
Ryan ran his hand under her dress, up the back of her thigh to her rounded bottom. He massaged through her panties, all the while pressing his jean-clad erection against her core.
Emma groaned. “Take them off.” Then she grabbed his belt, making short work of his zipper.
Pulling back, he said between panting breaths. “I wanted our first time to be slow. I wanted to make love to you.”
Slipping her thumbs inside his waistband, she pushed the jeans past his hips. “We can call this practice.”
He was about to argue, but then she reached into his boxers and wrapped her hand around his cock.
That was all it took.
He nodded, nearly ripping her panties off. “Yes, that sounds good.”
Cupping her ass, he lifted her onto the counter and slid into her in one deep thrust.
Emma dug her nails into his shoulder. “Oh, God, Ryan!”
Any fears he had of going too fast for her were erased as her moist heat engulfed him.
His lips captured hers, and he drove home again and again at a rapid pace, swallowing every one of her moans, every gasp. God, he’d suspected she’d be an intense lover, but he had no idea how wild she could be. If not for his lips on hers, he was sure the neighbors would hear.
Ryan prayed for longevity, but if her chant of “Oh, yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!” was anything to go by, he wouldn’t need it.
The pressure built, his release imminent, but it wasn’t until she gripped his neck, her eyes glazed over, and she cried his name that he finally let go.
They held each other in silence. Ryan’s whirling mind struggled to grasp that in a little over two hours he had gone from dreading the long lonely life that faced him to making love to Emma on her kitchen counter.
And even though it had been hot, fast, and intense, it was making love.
With her, there would be no other name for it.
Emma placed her palms against his chest, her breathing still somewhat unsteady. “I’d say that was good start, wouldn’t you?”
Ryan grinned and laid his forehead against hers. “The best.”
“We need to,” she kissed him, “make ourselves proper,” another kiss, “before Nicole gets home.”
“Good idea.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Because for some odd reason, I’m suddenly very hungry.”
***
After they’d made themselves presentable once again, Ryan sat at the kitchen table slicing into the black olives that had started everything. Emma stood by the stove browning chopped meat and watched him hum to himself as he worked, remembering the first time he’d sat there, sipping coffee and leafing through the newspaper she’d found in the fireplace.
Had that been only seven weeks ago?
Seven weeks had been all it took to meet, fall in love, and have the hottest freaking sex she’d ever had. Normally she’d have liked some foreplay, but by the time he’d thrown her onto the counter he had her body humming so hard she was surprised the granite hadn’t vibrated to the point of cracking.
After he’d sliced the last olive, he stood and brought them over to the island. “All set.”
Emma studied his work, nodding in approval. “Good job, but,” she picked up a whole olive, “you forgot one.”
He snatched it from her hand and popped it into his mouth. “No, I didn’t.”
“Hey, I was going to eat that.”
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, the black olive between his teeth. “We can share it.” He leaned in, attempting to bring his mouth to hers.
She laughed and avoided his lips. “Stop that, you silly boy.”
“Mommy?”
Emma thrust herself away from him as if he’d just done Bart’s “pull my finger” trick. She was sure she was smiling way too brightly at her daughter. “Hey, Little Miss Thang, have fun with Jillian?”
Nicole glared at them as she folded her arms and tapped her foot.
“Come here, angel.” Ryan opened his arms to her.
Without hesitation, she leapt into them.
He held her against his hip. “Would it be okay with you if your mom and I became boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“That depends. Are you gonna start bossing me around and stuff?”
Ryan would never disrespect her by laughing, no matter how adorable she was at the moment. Emma wasn’t sure she could’ve stopped herself. “It would kinda be like when I babysat you, and that’s only if it’s just you and me. When your Mom or Dad is around, they’re in charge.”
Nicole’s eyes shifted to her mother. “And you’re okay with this?”
God, she just wanted to hug this child and never let her go. “Yes, I am, sweet pea.”
A brilliant smile lit Nicole’s face. “Then I think it’s a great idea.”
“Really?” Emma asked, her shoulders relaxing.
“Yup, you told me Ryan gave you warm fuzzies. It was only a matter of time.”
Ryan turned to Emma. “So, I give you warm fuzzies, huh?”
For some reason, heat rose in her face. “Just a little.”
They gathered in a group hug. After squeezing them, Nicole jumped from his arms. “Come on, I’m hungry.” She turned to Ryan. “I expect you to tuck me in tonight.” With that, she ran from the room.
Ryan faced Emma, his face filled with love for her little girl. “Did you hear that? She wants me to tuck her in tonight.”
“Yes, I sure did.” After that vision she’d had earlier, she wasn’t at all surprised.
***
After a very lively dinner complete with silly stories and lots of laughter, they’d watched a DVD and then tucked Nicole into bed. Emma didn’t freak out when she saw the vision she’d had in the hospital parking lot come to fruition. Instead, she embraced it.
Nibbling on cold quesadilla, Emma and Ryan snuggled on the sofa in the living room, going through the photocopies of the letters they’d found. He sat in the corner, her back against his chest.
“I’ve read these letters so many times I think I can recite them verbatim,” Emma said with a sigh.
Ryan sat up straighter, a letter in his hand. “Okay, quick, what does this one say?”
She laughed and playfully elbowed him in the stomach. “You know what I mean. I just feel like there’s something staring me in the face but I don’t see it.”
She felt him shrug. “Maybe it’s not staring you in the face. Maybe you need to look for the snail.”
Emma turned to look at him, surprised he remembered. “That never occurred to me.”
“You don’t need a picture to find the hidden details. You can find them in written words too.”
She leaned against him and studied the letter he held. “You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“I kinda miss them.”
“Who?”
“The ghosts.”
Ryan chuckled. “Are you serious?”
She snuggled deeper. “Yeah. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t miss having tools thrown at me or doors slamming in my face, but I miss the Lady in the Shawl.”
Ryan grunted. “I think I know what you mean. I liked her once I got over the shock of seeing an apparition. Although I’ll tell you one thing…”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll never like the smell of musk again.”
“Can’t say I blame you. I’ll make sure to never buy any.”
“Although I’ll forever be fond of the smell of lilacs.”
Suddenly the words before her came into sharp focus. She sat up with a jerk.
He jumped. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I found the snail!” Emma searched through the letters, her excitement growing. How could she not have realized it before? “Where is it? Where is it?”
“What?”
She looked at him. “The lilacs, Ryan. The lilacs.”
“What about them?”
“We always smelled lilacs when we were in contact with the Lady in the Shawl.”
“Yeah, so?”
Emma finally found the letter she was looking for. With a shriek of joy, she hugged him. “It’s her! Ruby Van Leer was the body in the fireplace!”
Ryan looked as if he were searching his brain for answers. “Are you sure?”
Emma showed him the letter. “Right here. ‘…Mother almost found out about Miss Van Leer’s visits. She said she smelled lilacs…’”
He scanned the letter and then shook his head. “It could be just a coincidence.”
“Ryan, it all fits.” She read another part of the letter. “Hilary hated Ruby Van Leer. Look here. ‘Mother dislikes her so much…’” She pulled forth another page. “And this one written by Ruby herself, ‘…your mother’s aversion of me is very strong.’”
His brow furrowed. “So you’re saying Hilary killed Ruby? Emma, I can’t stand the guy who works behind the fish counter at my grocery store, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to kill him.”
Emma held up the letter written by Ruby. “‘…Right now there is a blizzard raging outside my window, the likes of which I have never seen. I promise you, as soon as the roads are clear and I can fetch a carriage over to your mother’s house, I will do so.’ She was going over there after the roads were cleared. The newspaper with the body was dated two days after the blizzard hit.”
Ryan looked at her, agog. “Wow, it was Betsy’s aunt we found in the fireplace.”
“Oh, my God.” A chill ran down Emma’s spine. “This can’t just be a coincidence.”
“Why? What else is there?”
She took a deep breath. “Hilary is the evil spirit in the house. She must be the one who killed Ruby. That’s why she grew so evil after I knocked down the wall.”
Always the voice of reason, Ryan sat down and did his finger math. “Ruby is the Lady in the Shawl, a.k.a the body in the fireplace. Ruby is related to Betsy who now owns the house that used to belong to the woman who murdered her aunt.” Holding up three fingers, he looked at them as if he’d never seen fingers before.
Emma sat with her face in her hands, feeling slightly ill. “Here I was bad-mouthing Ruby Van Leer, and the whole time she was my savior.”
“So what does it all mean?”
She reached for the phone. “Let’s see if we can find out.”
Within minutes, Emma was opening the door and shaking the hand of her best friend. “I’m so glad you could rush right over,” she said as she led Sheila into the living room.
“Oh, sweetie, you know I’ll always rush over to help you—” she stopped in her tracks when she saw Ryan rising from the sofa. “—and Ryan. Isn’t this interesting?”
Emma’s cheeks heated and she whispered, “I’ll explain later.”
“Yes, you will,” Sheila whispered back and then blew Ryan a kiss. “Now, what can I do for you?”
Ryan and Emma explained everything they’d figured out. Emma studied her friend’s ashen face with a sense of dread. She knew something. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Emma raised her chin. Well, we’ve been through so much already, what’s one more obstacle? “Okay, sister, hit me with your best shot.”
Sheila took a deep breath. “A few years ago, I was reading a series of ghost hunter books about the castle ghosts in Ireland. There had been a murder committed in the thirteenth century by the owner of the castle, but because he was a lord who’d murdered a peasant, he was never punished for his crime. But the universe, as they believed back then, had a way of finding its own justice. Years passed. The lord died, but he remained to haunt anyone who dared try to live in his home. The castle fell into ruins until a landowner came along and bought the castle. The ghost haunted him, almost killed him a few times, but the landowner stayed.”
“What made him so special?” Emma’s head swam. This all sounded way too familiar.
“He was a distant relative of the peasant who was murdered, and since the lord was never brought to justice, the landowner faced the ghost and proclaimed the castle was rightfully his.”
Ryan mouth hung open. “Wait, wait, then why is Hilary after Emma instead of Betsy?”
“My guess is, she doesn’t know about Betsy’s relation to Ruby. And we know from the EVPs that she doesn’t like Emma because she released Ruby.”
Ryan studied air for a while before asking, “So what did the landowner do to stop the haunting?”
“From what the legend says, he made sure justice was finally done. He gathered the townspeople and pled his case. They found the lord guilty of the crime, and the landowner was never bothered by the ghost again.”
“What happened to the ghost?” Emma asked.
Sheila shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he went to hell, or maybe he just disappeared. Maybe he was stuck in the house but couldn’t make his presence known anymore. The legend doesn’t say.”
Ryan ran fingers through his hair. “So that’s what we have to do? Bring Hilary to justice?”
Sheila appeared unsure. “I don’t think you need to have a full-blown trial. But from what the legend says, if the landowner was ever to be safe in the castle, he had to show the lord was in his debt for a murder he’d committed. Once that was done, he had to declare the home his.”
Ryan let out a long sigh. “That’s a relief. I doubt very much the police would care one way or the other about a murder that happened over a hundred years ago.”
Emma licked her suddenly dry lips. How in God’s name was she going to bring Hilary to trial? “What do we do now?”
“Well, Betsy needs to declare the home is hers,” Sheila said, “But first, you have to somehow make it known that Hilary Smith is a murderer.”