All of My Love (9 page)

That’s what they should be—
done.
Perhaps going into their bedroom would finally rip her from his heart and mind so he’d stop loving her. “I’ll get to it now. When you finish, let me know and I’ll walk you to your car. I’m not leaving until everything but the tub is out of there.”

Haunted eyes stared up at him. She came to her feet. “I can help.”

He almost laughed. “I think you’ve done enough.” She flinched, but didn’t lower her head. He walked past her and didn’t stop until he stood in front of their old bedroom. The door was closed, as it had been since the first day. He didn’t think Stella had been inside either.

He felt her behind him. He sensed that she wanted to help him with his demons, but she’d caused them. Anger that he’d tried to master, surged. Her leaving made him act less than a man. He’d failed his children, his legacy—all because she’d wanted another man. No more!

He wrenched open the door and flicked on the light. Before he let the past immobilize him, he went to the corner of the bedroom and knelt. He didn’t hesitate to insert the screwdriver beneath the carpet and pull. He wouldn’t think about them putting it down together, laughing and making love on top of it. He just kept working until he came to the other corner. He lowered the screwdriver with his right hand, reaching with his left to pull up the carpet—and went still. Air stalled in his lungs.

“My lord.”

“What is it?” Stella rushed across the floor and knelt beside him. “My-my wedding rings.”

Air finally whooshed out of his lungs. Faith. How could she do this to him? Unable to move, he watched Stella slowly reach out to pick up the one-half-carat round diamond engagement ring and simple band, then hold them in the palm of her trembling hands. Tears drenched the rings.

She had no right to cry. He’d been the one whose heart had been coldly wrenched from his chest. He’d cried for her like a spineless fool.

Her hand fisted. She turned to him, tears sparkling on her lashes. “I love you, Paul. I lost my way, but I’m trying to find the way back. Please, give me—us—another chance. Please.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She leaned into him, brushing her lips across his, murmuring his name. He shuddered and he was lost. He grabbed her, his tongue seeking and finding hers. The remembered taste of her mouth; the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest dragged him under faster than an undertow.

Need and desire heated his blood. “Stella.” Somehow they were on the floor, her blouse and his shirt partially open. He was kissing the side of her neck, biting her earlobe.

“Paul, I’ve missed you so much. Loved you for so long.”

He froze. She’d walked out on him and never looked back. He released her and rose to his feet.

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Paul, where are you going?”

“Away from you,” he replied harshly.

Stella flinched. “What? I-I thought…”

“You thought wrong.” He began buttoning his shirt. “I just wanted you to know how it feels.” He never wanted her to know how much he wanted to take her in his arms, make love to her, make her his again.

“So, you never wanted me. You just wanted to punish me.”

The pain and anguish in her voice, her face was killing him. He had to get out of there.

“I can understand that. I was a fool,” she cried. “I let myself be wooed and flattered, telling myself that the McBride curse would one day happen. You had lost interest in me, spending most of your time at the hotel, so I began to foolishly think, why fight it?”

“You took the easy way.”

“I did, and regretted it almost from the moment I walked out the door, leaving you and Faith.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I kept telling myself I was just being sentimental, that everything would be all right once we were married and in New York. It wasn’t. I didn’t like the city, the noise.” Her head briefly lowered.

“I didn’t like myself most of all. I tried to make the marriage work because I didn’t want to ruin two men’s lives.” Her laugh was brittle. “Little chance of that. I discovered he was cheating less than a year later. He liked the chase.”

He frowned. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“It was my punishment for hurting you. I’d left a man who loved me for one that I amused.” She dashed away tears. “I was different. Somewhat of a challenge, he told me when he asked for the divorce, but he needed more. I could have wept for joy. I think he thought I was a bit hysterical when I congratulated him and asked how soon he thought the divorce would be final.”

“He’s a snake.”

“Yes, and I should have seen that and kept walking. To my everlasting shame and regret, I didn’t. Instead, I hurt you. For that, I will forever be sorry. I’m asking you to forgive me and let’s try again. Paul, I want you in my life.”

He had to be strong. “I don’t want you.”

“I know. You hate me. If you can bring yourself to touch me again, maybe some of the abhorrence will go away.” She swallowed. “I’d settle for you not turning away from me. I hate seeing the disgust in your eyes.”

He couldn’t stay a moment longer. He whirled to get out of there.

“No!” Her shout was tortured. She came to her feet, wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his chest. He felt the dampness of her tears. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I’d rather have your hate than lose you again.”

That was the problem. He didn’t hate her. He couldn’t.

Her arms loosened on his waist. She gazed up at him with tear-drenched eyes. “Please don’t hate me. I love you, Paul. I love you.”

His heart cracked open. He felt his own wetness on his cheeks. He had to get out of there. “It’s over. Good-bye.” He walked as fast as he could, but not fast enough to escape her pleading for him to come back.

He had his revenge. She knew what it was to beg the one you loved to stay and they kept going. The price was high. It ripped out his heart.

Two steps out the door, he activated the locks on his truck. Another step and he was running. Her heartbroken sobs arrowed deep into his soul.

He jerked open the door and turned on the ignition. In a squeal of tires he pulled off. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he had to get away, because if he didn’t he’d take her back no matter the cost.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Stella cried. She’d lost. She’d wounded him too badly for him to forgive her.

He didn’t trust her. She couldn’t blame him.

“You have to show him.”

Her head came up abruptly. She’d heard Ruth’s advice as clearly as if she’d been standing there. Being a coward wouldn’t get Paul and her back together. If she had to tell him a hundred times, a thousand times, she’d do it. She reached for her rings on the floor. She started to slip them on, but decided to put them in her pocket for now.

She came to her feet and buttoned her blouse. She didn’t know where he’d gone, but she wasn’t about to stay there and wait. She’d drive by the hotel and if he hadn’t left his truck with the valet, she’d drive around a bit to see if she saw him. She was going after the man she loved.

In the bathroom, she washed her face, blew her nose. She didn’t even glance in the mirror. She’d seen the ravaged look on his face. He cared. He was as scared as she was. One of them had to be willing to give more. It was only right that she be the one.

In the front of the house, she grabbed her purse by the French doors and hurried out the front door, hearing it lock behind her. Her head down, she searched in her purse for her car key. Berating herself for not finding them in the house, she tried to stand in the weak beam of the streetlight one house down.

“Need some help?”

Stella jumped, almost dropping her purse. She whirled to see two young men approaching. They appeared to be in their early twenties, hatless, and wearing oversized black denim dusters. For some reason she felt uneasy. She took a step back. “No, thank you.”

“My mother always said to help women,” the taller of the two said.

The other man with him laughed as if he’d just heard a funny joke. “You’re somethin’, man.”

Stella decided the safest place was in the house. It was a quiet neighborhood. Most of the people were home from work and inside their homes. The traffic was at a minimum. “Good night.” She turned to go back inside and felt a hard hand on her arm. “Let me go!”

“That ain’t no way to act when we’re trying to be helpful,” sneered the one who had spoken first.

“No way at all,” the shorter one said, stepping behind her so she was trapped between them.

Fear like she’d never known before congealed her blood. “W-What do you want?”

The short one laughed again. “They always ask the same question.”

“Shut up, man.” The one who’d grabbed her released her arm and snatched her purse.

Stella clenched her hands to keep from reaching for it. If they wanted the purse, the car, she wasn’t going to fight them. If they tried to force her into the car it would be a different story. If she could fight for Paul, she could fight for herself.

He whistled. “Cash, credit and debit cards. Looks like we hit the jackpot. Where this came from, there’s more.” He grabbed her arm again. “Let’s go and find a fat ATM machine.”

“No,” Stella said.

His hatred-filled eyes narrowed. He lowered his face to within inches of hers. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

The other one snickered.

She had to think fast. “I don’t have my car keys. I must have left them inside.”

The hatred in his eyes intensified. “I don’t like liars.”

Stella had to swallow before she could speak. “Why do you think I was searching in my purse?”

“Broads.” He spat out the words and shoved her small billfold into the pocket of his jacket. “Dumb and more trouble than they’re worth. Hold her while I check.” He pushed her toward the shorter man.

His partner caught her arm, but his hands were smaller, softer. If she hoped to get away, she had to do it now.

The young man dumped the contents of her purse on the top of the hood. Her lipstick and mascara rolled off the hood as he moved the items around. “Well. Well.” He held up her car key. “Look what I found. Let’s go.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw headlights. It was now or never.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” The snickers from the other man turned into a grunt when Stella elbowed him hard in the stomach. She whirled and ran toward the fast-approaching headlights. Arms locked around her waist.

“No!” She bucked, trying to wrench her body away.

“Stella!”

Paul
. Relief and fear coursed through her. She didn’t want him hurt. Reaching back, she raked her nails down her attacker’s face.

He howled, freeing her. Then Paul was there. She fell to her knees. His fist plowed into the young man’s face. He went down and struggled back to his knees, his hands on the concrete street.

The other thief jumped into her car and sped away.

“My car!”

Paul’s attention shifted to the rental speeding away.

“Watch out!” she screamed.

Paul ducked the fist aimed at his head and punched the thief again. This time, he buckled and didn’t get up. Paul rushed to Stella and pulled her into his arms. Both were trembling. “Please tell me that you’re all right.”

Her eyes closed; she just held on. “I am now.”

“If anything would have happened—” He swallowed and held her closer.

A high-beam flashlight speared over them. “Police. What’s going on here?”

“Two thugs attacked my wife,” Paul told the officer. “That’s one of them. The other just drove off in her rental,” Paul told him, his voice tight.

Stella wondered if Paul knew he’d referred to her as his wife.

The officer who had spoken knelt by them. The female officer with him went to the young man just waking up. “I recognize this one, Mathis. Johnny Coggan. He’s been arrested for theft before.”

“Handcuff him and call it in,” the officer told his partner. “Are you all right, ma’am? Do you need medical attention?”

“No.” All she needed was the man holding her.

“I know you’re shaken, but if you can give us a description of the car and the license plate it would help,” he said.

“The information was in my billfold. The one who drove off had it in his pocket,” she said.

“A 2012 blue Toyota, license plate JMS 109 with an Auto Travel rental emblem on the back,” Paul told the officer. “Rented to Stella Elaine McBride. I’m Paul McBride.”

Officer Mathis chuckled. “Thanks. Is this where you live?”

“Remodeling it for our daughter and her husband,” Stella answered when Paul remained silent.

“Maybe you should take your wife inside. I’ll put out an APB, then come in shortly to get more information.” He pushed to his feet. “If you could move your truck out of the street once you have her inside, I’d appreciate it.”

Paul’s arm tightened around her. She wasn’t ready to be away from him either. “I’d rather be with you. We can call Faith together,” she said.

He nodded and led her toward his truck. Stella frowned up at him. What was the matter with him? Why was he so silent?

*   *   *

Paul couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the images of Stella being at the mercy of the two thugs. The one who had stolen her rental had been caught trying to use her credit card. Both were in jail, but it shouldn’t have ever happened. The only reason it had was because he’d been angry and wanted his revenge.

And it might have cost her her life. The one who had stolen her car had a knife on him, and had been known to use it on his victims. Paul swiped his shaky hand over his face. He hadn’t been able to continue driving. He kept hearing her desperately calling his name. He’d turned his truck around, knowing he shouldn’t have left her alone.

The police had come and gone at the house. Now, they were back in Stella’s hotel suite with Brandon and Faith.

“Mama, are you sure you’re all right?” Faith continued to ask. “Dr. Anderson can be here in ten minutes.”

“I’m fine,” Stella said, patting her daughter’s hand. “Thank you for not calling Cameron or Duncan. Cam is at the tracks today preparing for his race on Sunday, and this is a busy time on the ranch for Duncan.”