Along Came a Husband (10 page)

This need he had for her was eating him up from the inside out, and there was little doubt something very similar was happening to her. Or was it? She was in her bathroom getting ready for bed, washing her face, brushing her teeth as if nothing had happened. How could she possibly put that kiss out of her mind? Since the moment they’d first met and he’d first touched her, Missy had been like a volcano ready to erupt. Nothing had changed for him. How could it have changed for her?

Then it hit him. Nothing
had
changed. She hadn’t any more control than him. It was all an act.

Well, maybe it was time to call her bluff.

Stalking down the hall to her bedroom, he turned the knob and pushed open the door. The room was dark. He saw nothing but a sliver of moonlight slicing the room in half. The only sound was a sharp intake of breath. Then his eyes adjusted and his gaze landed on her body. In profile. Naked.

He nearly lost it right then and there.

Instinctively, she pulled the nightgown in her hands in front of her as she spun toward him. “What are you doing in here?” she whispered.

I want you.
He didn’t have to say it for her to know it. Taking a few slow steps into the room, he gave her a moment to accept the inevitable.

“Stop right there.” She held out her hand, exposing one full breast upturned and bathed in moonlight.

Jonas swallowed, aching to draw that dark, tight nipple into his mouth. As soon as he did, she’d be his again. The word
no
would disappear from her vocabulary. “You want this as much as I do, Missy. Admit it. At least to yourself if not to me.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t,” she whispered, though the sound was more of a whimper. “Sometimes what we want is the worst thing for us.”

“Enough talk. Let’s do this.” He went to her, stood before her and waited for her to step back. When she didn’t, he reached out and ran his hand over her collarbone and down her arm, giving her every chance to pull away, to say no again, to back up her words with action. Instead, she closed her eyes and her head fell back, in silent invitation.

He bent toward her and kissed her neck, her shoulder, her arm and then he moved to the upper swell of her breast, giving her every chance to back away and shut him down. Instead, her breathing turned rapid. The nightgown slipped from her grasp and Jonas could no longer hold back. He cupped her bare breast in his hand and took her into his mouth, laving her nipple with his tongue.

“Jonas,” she breathed. “Please.”

“Please what, Miss?” Tenderly, carefully, he closed his teeth over her nipple. “What do you want me to do?”

She moaned and put her hands on his head, as if she couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. “I…I don’t know,” she whimpered.

“I do.” Gently, he ran his hands along the sharp slope of her shoulders, down the gentle sweep of her back, and on to the rounded curve of her bottom, cupping her to him.

That’s when she touched him, dipped her hand under his shirt and turned hot under his hands.

“Want that off?” He ripped his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. “Now what?”

She glanced lower.

“Excellent idea.” Quickly, he unzipped his jeans and dragged them off, right along with his boxers.

Pulling her into his arms and feeling her naked breasts pressed against him took him back. “This at least was always perfect between us.” From the very first time to the last, she’d given him everything she’d had to give. He’d done the same.

He backed her onto the bed, spread himself over her, brought her knees up and felt her softness against his rigid flesh. He hadn’t meant to move so fast, but it’d been so long for him and she was so ready, so slick, so swollen. She shifted, tilted her hips under him, putting the tip of him inside her. The uncontrollable need to have her consumed him. He thrust hard, driving himself into her.

“Oh, Missy,” he whispered against her mouth. “There isn’t a better feeling in the world than being inside you.”

The moment Jonas had touched her, the moment he thrust into her, it was as if Missy had ceased to exist, as if her body was no longer her own, as if every hair, every breath, every single one of her bones belonged not to her, but to Jonas. He moved one way and she moved with him, as though she not only anticipated him, she was a part of him.

He brushed his mouth against hers as he drove hard into her one last time. Their breaths mingled as they came together, as they spiraled into oblivion for several long, blissful moments where not a coherent thought pierced her consciousness. There was only skin and heat and the feel of the only man she’d ever loved inside her, pulsing against her, making her his again.

Slowly, as her orgasm shuddered to completeness, she became aware, limb by limb, of how tightly she’d wrapped herself around Jonas, holding him to her. What was she doing? Suddenly, Missy crashed back to reality. After what he’d done to her, after faking his death and walking away, how could she let this happen?

Ashamed, she drew her legs down and held still. She prayed he would just leave, leave her alone, leave her be, leave her to gather the pieces of herself back together.

He took a shuddering breath, rested his full weight against her for a moment and rolled onto his back. “When I’m right, I’m right,” he said with a smile in his voice. “You wanted that as much as I did.”

With those words, what little was left of her dignity dissolved. She covered her face with her hands and couldn’t stop a tiny sob from escaping.

“Missy?” He reached for her.

“Don’t.” She rolled away from him. “Don’t ever touch me again. Never.”

“Missy—”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Grabbing a T-shirt and sweatpants, she yanked them on and headed for the door.

“Oh, so now you hate me, right?”

She spun back around to find him lying lazily back against her pillows. “The only person in this world I hate more than you right now, Jonas,” she whispered, “is me.”

Her face. The disgust toward him. Herself.

“Screw it!” He threw a pillow across the room. What was done couldn’t be undone.

He got out of bed. She shouldn’t be outside at night, at least not alone. He hadn’t been followed to Mirabelle and it was highly improbable that they’d found him this quickly, but tempting fate was a good way to get dead.

After pulling his clothes back on, he grabbed his gun and went outside. Quietly, he followed her down a path through the woods. She moved slowly, as if her feet were weighted in cement, but he kept his distance. Rustling not a leaf, nor disrupting a branch, he kept his presence unknown. He’d done enough damage for one night. The least he could do was let her think she was alone.

After a while, she broke through the trees and onto the shoreline. Standing quiet for a moment, she lifted her face to the moon. A trail of tears glistened on her cheek, and it was all Jonas could do not to go to her. But he didn’t have it in him to comfort her. Not anymore.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

He went still, stopped even breathing. Was there someone else here? Someone he hadn’t seen?

“Haven’t you had enough, Jonas?”

How she knew he was here he had no clue, but that was Missy for you. All intuition and insight. No reason or caution, only feelings and actions. “It’s not safe out here.”

“Not safe. Out here?” She laughed and hugged herself. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” As she glanced at him, he saw himself through her eyes. He didn’t like what was there.

What have I become?

Cruel, cold, and unfeeling for starters.

Yes, she’d very definitely wanted him, his body at least, back in her bedroom. He hadn’t forced anything on her, hadn’t taken anything she hadn’t freely given, but he hadn’t planned for it to happen in that way.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him. “The Jonas I knew never would’ve taken advantage of a woman’s weakness in that way.” She paused, seeming to gauge his sincerity. “Who
are
you?”

“Not the Jonas you married, that’s for damned sure.”

“What happened to him?”

He’d as much as died for real in that helicopter crash.

Knowing it would still be best to keep his distance, Jonas leaned against a tree and looked out over the dark lake. “Being undercover is…not for every agent. I was good at it. Maybe too good. That’s one of the reasons they wanted me for this assignment. When you’re undercover you have to, to some degree, forget who you are and become someone else.

“I didn’t mind stepping away from my life for a little while,” he continued. “A couple days, a couple weeks, it’s not a big deal coming back down, fitting back into your regular life. But four years? To tell you the truth, Missy, I’m not sure I
know
who I am anymore.”

Moonlight cast a glow on the side of her face, made her hair look silver. She’d given herself to him, always wholly and completely. What had he given to her? Nothing but pain.

A piece of the old Jonas, a tiny sliver of humanity, snuck back under his skin. “Come back to your house, Missy. Go to sleep. I swear on my mother’s grave, I won’t ever touch you again.”

Or was it?

On Mirabelle, she thought she’d found a place where she fit, a place where she could settle and build a life. She thought she’d found herself. Instead, she’d been living a lie, and if fitting in was based on a foundation of lies, wasn’t it inevitable that her world would eventually crumble? There was no way around it. She had unfinished business in her life and, Jonas or no Jonas, only she could tie it all up. How to begin?

By telling the truth.

Before she could back down, Missy quickly climbed the hill, ran past her own home and went directly to the back of the Setterbergs’ house. Their inside door was open, leaving only the screen to block mosquitoes and bees. She heard water running in the kitchen sink and voices, but couldn’t make out any words.

“Morning,” Missy called. “You two up and about?”

A chair scraped across the kitchen floor and Ron appeared. “Well, you’re awake early. Come on in.”

Missy entered the kitchen that, more and more, felt as comfortable as her own. It wasn’t that unusual for her to appear at their house unannounced. In fact, she did so with a great deal of regularity and, with any luck, what she had to say today wouldn’t change a thing between them.

Yeah, right. And she was the Dalai Lama.

“Do you want some tea?” Jan asked.

Although they were both coffee drinkers, they kept a stash of green tea for Missy. “I’d love some, thanks.” She sat at the old oak table and poured herself a bowl of cereal, topped it with some blueberries and poured skim milk over the top. Normally, she didn’t drink milk, but Ron and Jan drew the line at stocking soy products, so Missy adapted when she was at their house.

They chatted about this and that while everyone finished breakfast. She swallowed the last spoonful of her cereal, sat back in her chair and fussed with her tea.

“Might as well come out with it,” Jan said. “The longer you wait, the harder it’ll get.”

Missy took the bag out of her tea, took a sip and framed her words. “For now, can you keep what I’m going to tell you between us?”

They both nodded, and she knew they’d keep their word.

“Okay. Here goes. There are some things I haven’t told you about me.” Neither Ron nor Jan said a word during her entire long-winded explanation about her family. When she finally finished, she glanced at them. “So that’s it. Everything you ever wanted to know about one Melissa Camden—aka Missy Charms.”

Ron and Jan glanced at each other and laughed.

Dumbfounded, Missy sat straight. “Why are you laughing?”

Ron quickly sobered. “Sweetheart, we always figured you were running from something. We just didn’t know what it was.”

“To be honest, we were worried you might be in trouble with the police,” Jan said.

“The police?” Missy sat back. “Why?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s come to Mirabelle to hide from the authorities,” Ron said, probably referring to Erica when she’d been on the run with Jason.

Jan chuckled. “And let’s just say you’re not exactly traditional.”

Missy wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that meant. She was simply happy they were taking this so well. “So you’re not mad?”

“Why would we be upset?” Jan asked.

“Because I lied to you.”

“Because you’d never share anything about your past?” Ron shook his head. “If you’d have wanted us to know, you’d have told us.”

“If we’d felt the need to know,” Jan added, “we’d have asked.”

“So you understand. I have millions of dollars in a trust account.”

They glanced at each other.

“Yeah, that’s a little strange,” Jan admitted. “It doesn’t really change anything between us.”

“You are who you are, Missy.”

Missy couldn’t stop tears of sheer relief from falling down her cheeks.

“Oh, honey.” Ron patted her hand. “You mean far too much to us for something like this to come between us.”

“No harm done,” Jan added. “I gotta ask, though. Why is it so important for you to steer clear of your family?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I just…they just…acted so differently from how I felt inside it was hard to figure out who I was around them. Does that make any sense?”

“A little. What about now? After all these years on your own?”

Whether or not things had changed for her was something she hadn’t thought much about. “Now, I don’t honestly know.”

“Are they all bad? Even your mother?”

“My father was the worst to be around, but she did what he told her to do.”

“Guilty by association?”

“Exactly.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem entirely fair.”

“Maybe not, but it’s really not about what’s fair. It’s about what I needed to do for myself. Being out from under the shadow of my father is what I needed.” She took a deep breath and tried to explain. “He’s very controlling. A his-way-or-the-highway man. He was always lecturing me and my siblings about our duty to pay back what we were given. I can still hear his voice in my mind, saying, ‘Your great-great-grandfather was one of this country’s most influential men. You must do great things with your lives.’”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Life, to me, doesn’t need to be big and bold to be meaningful. He’d never understand the quiet difference I make by selling only American-made or fair trade products in my gift shop. By trying to be a good friend and neighbor. By buying Mirabelle Island municipal bonds in my trust account.” That slipped out before Missy had thought to rein herself in.

Both Ron and Jan glanced silently at her, their eyebrows raised. “So you were the investor who came in at the last minute and saved the plans for the pool and golf course?” Jan asked.

She nodded.

Ron chuckled. “Well, Missy, you helped a lot of people on this island. Whether they know it or not.”

“Not me. The money really belongs to my great-great-grandfather. I’d be content with my gift shop.” She sighed and glanced back and forth between the two of them. “So you’re truly not upset? Not at all?”

He shook his head.

“I’m not sure the rest of the islanders will have the same lack of reaction.”

“Oh, no doubt, you’d get a mix.” He sighed. “Some who beforehand wouldn’t give you the time of day will suddenly want to be your best friend. Some who are friends, won’t know how to act around you. Some won’t give a damn.”

“I’m not sure you should tell everyone, Missy,” Jan offered. “But maybe you should at least tell Sarah. And possibly Hannah.”

“I can’t.”

“If they’re true friends, they’ll understand.”

“You don’t know what it’s like going through life without connections. I wasn’t allowed to be friends with kids I shared interests with and the kids I was allowed to do things with I couldn’t stand. In college, people I thought were friends really weren’t. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sarah.” She took a deep breath and rallied to tell them about Jonas. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

“What more could there be?” Jan asked, surprised.

“Has to do with that man at your house,” Ron said, holding her gaze. “Right?”

She nodded. “He’s not my brother. He’s my husband.”

They both sat back and listened, their frowns deepening. By the time she finished explaining him, she felt more confused than ever. “So do you have as clear an insight about Jonas?”

Jan shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to touch that one with a ten-foot pole.”

Ron sighed. “Me neither.”

Even so, Missy felt the answer settle inside her.

Somehow, someway, she had to find the courage to finish all the unfinished business in her life. She had to talk with Sarah. She’d have to call the adoption agency, set the record straight and let the chips fall where they may. And she needed to be done running from Jonas.

Missy gripped the crystal necklace she’d been wearing since Jonas had arrived on Mirabelle and slipped it off. She had to face him head-on. It was the only way she could hope to find herself again and hold her place in this world.