Books by Maggie Shayne (29 page)

They’d given him a small paper packet of pills for her, and they’d seen to it she’d taken one before leaving the hospital. Sedatives, they’d told him. Mild but effective. They must be effective, or she’d be arguing about his presence more than she was, he decided. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she was as glad to have him here as she’d seemed at first. She slid into the bed, burrowed under the covers he tugged up over her, and looked him in the eye. “I want you to leave.”

“I will,” he lied.

From the bed she stared at him through sleepy eyes. “No, I don’t,” she whispered. “Not if you’re my Richard. I don’t ever want you to leave again.”

And that was all. She fell into an unnatural sleep. Emotional exhaustion, Ren guessed, was even more to blame than those small white pills. He’d given her a terrible shock and a lot to deal with tonight.

Ren took off his sword and laid it in a corner, then covered it with his coat. He sat down on the small stool that rested near the dressing table. And he stared into the oval mirror, seeing his true self. How could she see him? Why wasn’t she fooled by his disguise the way everyone else was?

He looked again at his reflection, only not the one in the mirror this time. This one smiled back at him from a photograph framed in pewter. His hair was shorter, and he wore a tux. In his arms he held the most beautiful creature ever to draw breath. Annie, glowing with happiness, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her small body swathed in white satin, pearls, and lace.

The dress she wore in the photo was a bridal gown, and the groom holding her close was… Ren.

Good God, it was true, then. He
had
been her Richard.

He turned slowly to gaze at the heartbroken woman who lay in the bed, crying softly now and then, even in her sleep. Annie… she’d been his wife. Was it possible? Could any man have loved a woman like this one and then forgotten her?

But it had to be true. And she must know him well—as well as he knew himself.
Too
well to be fooled by the Cloak of Disguise.

And he couldn’t tell her. Because if she knew the truth, it would only be harder in the end, when he had to leave her again. As he must, according to his vows.

But would she see through his lies as easily as she saw through the disguise?

And why, as he heard her soft sobs, saw the tears glittering on her cheeks, did he feel his own eyes begin to burn?

He was still there.

Annie blinked him into focus. He’d drawn the padded stool from the vanity up beside the bed and fallen asleep there, his head pillowed near her feet. Sun streamed through the window, its amber rays igniting his golden hair. He’d removed the long, dark-colored coat he wore, and it hung in a corner, and she briefly wondered what he’d hung it on. But what mattered was him, not his coat. Why was he still here?

She’d told him to go. He had said he would leave as soon as she fell asleep. She had wanted him to go… hadn’t she? God, if she had, then why was she feeling such overwhelming joy to see him here now? No, she knew damned well she hadn’t wanted to wake up and find him gone again.

I’m not your husband, Annie
.

His words floated back to her, bringing a pang of sadness so intense, her eyes welled with tears. He said he wasn’t Richard. But how could he not be?

He lay there, looking in sleep so much like her husband that it was impossible to believe he could be anyone else. So much so that any second now, she fully expected him to open his eyes—Richard always woke within a few minutes after she did—and send her that lazy, sleepy smile she’d missed for all these long months.

But he wouldn’t, would he? Because he wasn’t Richard. Why was that so clear to everyone who saw him—everyone but her?

He stirred and his eyes opened, focused unerringly on hers. And then he smiled, and her heart melted into a trembling puddle in her chest.

She hurt. Looking at him brought all the pain she’d been fighting right back to the surface. How dare he do this to her? How dare he walk into her life and plunge a hot blade into her heart by telling her he wasn’t Richard?

She sat up in bed. He lifted himself away from her mattress, his smile dying at the look on her face.

“What are you doing here? You told me you would go.”

“I’m sorry. I was only trying to ease your mind so you could rest. I lied to you, Annie. I can’t go.”

“You can’t stay.”

He rose, pushed a hand through his hair in frustration, but still kept those familiar blue eyes pinned to hers. “Annie, I know this is painful for you. If there were any other way—”

“If you can’t be him,” she whispered, “then please, for the love of God, get out of my house. Get out of my life. Can’t you see what you’re doing to me?”

She’d meant to shout at him, but the words sounded more like a desperate plea.

“I was sent here to protect you, Annie. I can’t leave. Not yet. I have to stay right here, in this house.”

She was stunned. She stared, just shaking her head.

“It’s important, Annie.”

“No. Nothing is this important. I can’t have you here; I can’t look at you, see you standing there claiming you aren’t Richard and looking too much like him to be anyone else. Nothing is important enough to go through this.”

“Not even your child?”

Annie lunged out of the bed and stood facing him. “What
about
my child?”

He lowered his gaze, regret for what he’d said written all over his face. “I can’t—”

She gripped the front of his shirt in fists that shook almost violently. “Damn you, Ren, or whoever the hell you are, if there’s something going on that involves my baby, you’d better tell me and tell me now, or I’ll make you wish you’d stayed wherever you came from.“

He stood still, utterly still, just staring down at her. Then his hand rose, and slowly stroked her hair. “There it is,” he said softly. “You’ve found it at last, haven’t you, Annie? You’ve got so much strength inside you, you know that? I can see it in your eyes.”

She bit her lip. Richard had said something so similar to her, how many times?

“Hold on to that strength, that anger,” he said. “You’re going to need all of it for the battles we’ll soon have to face.”

Annie closed her eyes. God, it felt good when he touched her. She wanted so much to believe this was Richard, here, speaking to her so gently. And with every word he said, every expression that crossed his face, she was more convinced.

She grated her teeth and faced him again. “What are you saying? Is my baby in some kind of danger?”

He nodded grimly. He clasped her hands in his, removing them from his shirt, lowering them, flattening her palms to her swollen belly, covering them with his own.

“Who are you?” She lifted her gaze to his, staring deeply into his eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

His sigh was deep and coarse. “I come from another realm, Annie. One most people don’t even know exists.“ He was quiet, pensive for a very long moment. Then he drew a deep breath, seeming to choose his words carefully. ”I’ve broken rules already by telling you as much as I have. Suffice it to say, Annie, that there are forces out there, good and evil so powerful, you couldn’t begin to imagine them. There are those who wish to keep this child from being born. And there are those like me, who’d die to protect it.“

“Why?”

“I can’t say any more. I’m sorry.”

It was madness, what he was telling her. Utter madness. But his words, his voice, rang so true.

“I’m not asking you to believe me. I’m not asking you to do anything at all, except let me stay. Let me protect you until your child is born.”

Let him stay? She’d cut off a limb to keep him with her now. He had to be Richard. And she’d find a way to prove it, make him admit it, or make him remember if he’d somehow forgotten all they’d been to each other. She frowned, lifting her gaze to his and replaying his words in her mind.
Until your child is born.
A lump came into her throat as she whispered, “And what then?”

Ren cleared his throat. “Then… I go back.” Annie closed her eyes and silently vowed that he wouldn’t. She wasn’t going to lose him. Not again.

He’d done it. He’d convinced Annie of the lie he’d told her. That he wasn’t her husband, had never been her husband. Maybe. She seemed to have accepted it, for now. Or perhaps she made herself accept it only because it was less painful that way. Or perhaps she was lying, pretending to believe him when in truth she knew better.

For some reason that latter theory seemed the most valid. And it disturbed him. He couldn’t be what he’d been to her. Not now. Not emotionally, not physically. Desire was a thing that didn’t exist for him. And his love belonged to the cause of good. Not to another living soul.

For whatever reason, Annie appeared to believe him. She called him Ren. Still looked at him with wonder in her eyes, but addressed him as a stranger. And she accepted his staying with her… for now, she’d said.

He’d never felt so awkward before. So clumsy and large and likely to say or do the wrong thing and put the pain back in her eyes. He was a Hero, for God’s sake! Why
would
he feel this way?

But as he walked her to school that morning, the sense of deja vu was so strong, it dizzied him. The urge to hold her small hand tightly in his large one, or worse yet, to cradle her in the crook of his arm, was all but overwhelming.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching her as she walked along beside him. The way the wind caressed her fiery hair amazed him. And the sun glinting from her jeweled eyes. And the silken texture of her skin.

He couldn’t remember ever being this entranced by the way a woman looked. He tore his gaze away, tried to watch where he was going instead. She seemed stiff, tense as she walked with him, but the second his head was turned, he felt her looking at him. Her gaze roamed over his face like a living thing. And it was warm, enticing.

He turned toward her. She looked away.

She was still hurting; Ren couldn’t deny that. Still trying to reconcile the man who’d forced his way into her life with the man she’d loved and lost. He hoped she could go on believing what he’d told her, that they were two separate men. But he was afraid she wouldn’t.

She’d seen through his disguise so easily, it stood to reason she’d see through his lies as well. But her face, her eyes, revealed nothing. Except an excruciating blend of pain and pleasure.

The scent of autumn hung heavy in the chilled air and made the day seem so crisp, one could take a bite of it. But above that scent, he was all too aware of hers. The soap she used, the shampoo, the skin lotions, and her own womanly musk combined to intrigue him and made it impossible not to lean slightly closer just to inhale the fragrance again. How could such a subtle scent play such havoc with his mind? It seemed so enticingly familiar. It tickled at the back of his awareness, nudging some hidden memory and drawing away before he could place it. Over and over again, like the ocean’s waves teasing the sandy shore. Retreating. Teasing again.

He looked down at her, and she promptly shifted her gaze elsewhere. He noticed for the first time that she had a tiny parade of pale freckles marching across the bridge of her nose.

Seventeen of them. Don’t you remember, you counted them once
?

Ren frowned at the voice within but stared harder at the freckles—until she turned and scowled at him.

“What are you looking at? Do I have food smudged on my face or something?”

“No. And how could you? You didn’t eat this morning.”

“I did so.”

“One slice of unbuttered toast and a minuscule glass of milk are not a meal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll understand if I say my stomach isn’t quite calm this morning.” ‘

He blinked and lowered his eyes, ashamed to be the reason for her lack of appetite. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I took my vitamins.”

That eased his mind a little.

“Do you walk to school every day?” he asked her. “Even in the winter?”

“It’s good exercise.” She looked at him a little oddly, as if awaiting his reply.

“In snowstorms?” he asked her. “In below-zero weather?”

As her lips curved upward at the corners, she averted her face. “Gets the blood circulating.”

“You’re crazy,” he told her.

“That’s what Richard always said. Every time we had this discussion. Must have been a dozen times or more.” And she looked at him, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

He said no more, since they were arriving at the school building. He cupped her elbow in his hand as they started up the steps. At the contact, she stopped walking, closed her eyes, and drew a shaky breath. But she didn’t take her arm away. She seemed to gather strength from his touch as she stiffened her spine. She drew a deep breath, opened her eyes, and began moving again.

As they entered the building, she spoke in a low voice. “I’ve told you how odd this is going to look, you coming to school with me this way.”

“And I’ve told you that I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Mrs. Nelson?”

They both stopped walking when the dark-haired woman approached. Annie frowned at her. “Yes?”

“Mrs. Wright. Tammy’s mother,” the woman explained. And Annie nodded as if she’d finally placed her. The woman reached her hand out to clasp Annie’s shoulder, and her face seemed perfect for someone attending a funeral. “How are you?” she asked, and the words were laden with meaning.

“I’m… I’m fine.” If Annie seemed confused, Ren was right with her.

“That’s good,” Mrs. Wright said, offering a weak smile. “That’s very good. You just remember, when the burdens get to be too much for you, let the Lord carry part of the load. I know He’s always been there for me.“

“Thanks. I’ll… uh… I'll remember that.”

“We weren’t meant to bear our grief alone, Annie. That’s what He’s there for.” She patted Annie’s shoulder once more, gave her a brighter smile, and moved away.

Annie stared after her for a second, the skin between her brows forming an accordion. Then she gave her head a shake and turned toward a classroom. But she stopped in the doorway. Her pretty mouth fell open, and her eyes widened in surprise, only to narrow, seconds later, in what looked like fury. And it was aimed at the little round fellow sitting behind the desk.

“Excuse me.” She seemed to grow a few inches taller as she strode into the classroom and addressed the man who was arranging photographs in a horseshoe pattern. “Is there something I can do for you?” she asked him.

He glanced up, brows raised. “I don’t think so. But I’ll let you know if I need anything. New schools are always an adjustment.” He gave her a smile, then glanced past her to meet Ren’s gaze, and his smile died.

“Then maybe you can do something for me,” Annie went on.

“Sure, just ask.”

“Well, for starters you can tell me who you are, and why you’re sitting at my desk.” She had not returned his smile, Ren guessed.

“I… that is, I’m… Oh, my. This is embarrassing. I’m—”

“He’s Marvin Kestler, Annie.”

Annie whirled, and Ren turned to see the man who’d spoken, standing in the doorway.

“Harry, what the hell is going on here?”

Harry came the rest of the way inside, passing Ren as if he wasn’t even there, and approaching Annie. He put a hand on her outer arm, giving her a sappy smile that was obviously forced. Ren stiffened, sensing the man was about to insert a blade between Annie’s ribs.

“Annie…” Harry sighed deeply, and his hand on Annie’s shoulder stroked a small circle. “Are you all right?”

“Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that?”

He let his hand fall to his side at the anger in her voice. “Because we care. Look, I heard about what happened yesterday. And—”

“
How
, exactly, did you hear about it?”

“Come on, Annie, it happened a few yards from the school. Half the town witnessed it. Did you really think I
wouldn’t
hear about it?”

She set her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest, just above her swollen belly. “It was an accident, Harry. A near miss. I wasn’t hurt. You can see by looking at me that I’m fine now.“

“Physically,” he blurted, then bit his lip and averted his eyes. “Look, you’ve been under an incredible strain. Everyone knows it, and believe me, we’ve been in awe of the way you’ve carried on in spite of it all. But Annie, you could only take so much. And we understand. We do. We just want you well again. That’s all.”

“We?”

“We’ve discussed this and we agree it’s time you started your maternity leave.”

“Who do you mean when you say ‘we’?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Dr. Cassius and me, mostly.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “And the Board of Education, of course.”

Ren saw the way Annie flinched in surprise. “Bartholomew?” Her voice held a hint of hurt, maybe a touch of betrayal. Ren felt a stab of something very similar to jealousy then, but of course, it couldn’t have been that. Knights didn’t feel such things.

“He’s terribly worried about you, Annie. And so am I. In fact, he wants to help you. Look, we know how hard this past year has been on you. And now with the baby so close, and—”

She jerked her arm away from his touch. “There is
nothing
wrong with me, dammit. I can still do my job.”

“Maybe I ought to leave,” Kestler stammered. He elbowed past them and hurried out the door, but Annie didn’t seem to notice.

Harry sent Ren a meaningful glance, as if suggesting he ought to leave as well. Ren gave his head a slight shake.

Annie didn’t see or else just didn’t acknowledge the exchange. Ren saw how much color her cheeks had. He saw the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes. He stood closer to her side, then stiffened in shock when he felt her small hand slip inside his. Her fingers twined and squeezed, and he returned the pressure so automatically that his own action startled him nearly as much as hers had. She’d taken his hand when she’d needed his strength. And she’d done it before, hadn’t she? He knew it. Something about the anger, the flash of life in her eyes right now triggered the knowledge in his mind. How he’d love to see it again.

“Harry, you could have spoken to me about this. This is one hell of a way to let me find out I’ve been replaced.”

“Not replaced, Annie. This is only temporary. And I tried to call you about it last night but the phones—”

“My fault,” Ren interrupted. They both glanced at him as if they’d forgotten his presence. Annie seemed to suddenly realize that she clutched his hand, and she made a move as if to remove hers from his clasp, so he held it tighter. “I’m sorry, Annie. I took the phones off the hook last night. I wanted you to rest.”

This drew a deep frown from Harry. “This guy is
staying
with you?”

Annie closed her eyes. “Is the board going to dictate my personal life now, as well as my career?”

“Annie’s husband was my cousin,” Ren cut in, not wanting her to let her anger destroy her position at the school. “Naturally, I want to be with her now, since he can’t be here himself.” He felt her hand tremble a bit when he said it. God, could the loss of one man still hurt her that much?

Her eyes opened and she faced Harry. “You don’t have to explain anything to him, Ren. It’s not his business. What
is
his business is running this school, and so I guess I have no choice but to honor his decision.” She licked her lips. “But I don’t have to like it.

“Annie—”

“Too late to apologize, Harry. I’ll just go now. I hope I’m right in assuming my job will still be here after my maternity leave is over and I’m ready to come back to work.”

He licked his lips. Ren felt a warning prickle dance up his nape, and he saw Annie’s anger surging to the surface again.

“Say it,” she told him. “Will my job be here, or won’t it? You said this leave was temporary. Was that the truth or a bald-faced lie?”

“The truth.” He shook his head. “But this… isn’t about the pregnancy, and we both know it. Look, take all the time you need. Have the baby, get your strength back. But most importantly, Annie,
get well.”

“Too vague, Harry. I want specifics.”

He shook his head. “All right. Fine, you want specifics, here they are. You need to get some therapy. See someone. The school board isn’t going to risk you having some sort of breakdown in the middle of a class, so unless you get help, you’re unemployed. Now, Dr. Cassius has said he’d be more than willing to—”

Annie swore, using a phrase Ren wouldn’t have believed was in her vocabulary.

“I’m sorry, Annie. But you’re slipping. We’ve all seen the signs. Passing out during that storm the other night and saying you’d seen someone outside your house. And then your behavior in the store the other day. And what happened yesterday, the way you ran through town and right into the path of Hetty Pike’s car. The way you freaked out afterward. Not recognizing your husband’s cousin. Thinking he was Richard…“ Harry blinked, and Ren thought for a second he detected a hint of moisture in the man’s eyes. ”Dammit, Annie, I know how much you loved him. Hell, the whole town knew. You two were joined at the hip for as long as anyone can remember, even when you were just kids. Honey, I know how hard it’s been, but it’s over now. He’s gone. You have to get yourself together and move on. You need some help, Annie. It’s understandable—“

“My job hinges on it. That’s it, basically?”

With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “The board held an emergency meeting last night, Annie. We all care about you, but the welfare of the students has to come first. We want you to get help.”

“And I shouldn’t bother showing up here again without a note from a shrink saying I won’t go berserk and start offing my students, right Harry? God, I don’t believe this.”

Releasing Ren’s hand she turned and stormed out of the room, out of the building, right into the rush of bodies coming in. Ren was after her instantly, but he could barely keep her in his sight with all the students surrounding her. He dived into the crowd of them, shouldering his way through, battling visions of her swollen, delicate body being trampled beneath all those Reebok-clad feet.

When he finally found her, she stood frozen near a huge yellow bus. She was staring off into the distance, across the newly mown grass that surrounded the brick building. Just staring. And he wondered about Harry Hayes. He wondered if the man truly cared about Annie, as he seemed to. Or if he was, perhaps, working for the side of evil. Using her own feelings against her, working to systematically destroy her and thereby gain access to her child.