Authors: Susan Squires
But somebody had to protect Jane. He had no idea how
to do that, but he was going over there. He turned around. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t wait dinner.”
“Don’t forget to take a couple of the guys,” his mother called after him.
Of course he didn’t try to ditch Edwards’ security contingent. They were a fact of life these days. He headed out the front gates with his usual tail. How could he help Jane? Two miles wasn’t much time to think things through.
But
. . . maybe he already had thought things through. Hadn’t Senior told him to find a good woman and get on with life?
What better woman than Jane?
It was as if scales fell from his eyes at the stoplight on the corner of Hawthorne Boulevard and Palos Verdes Drive West. The ocean to his left had a copper channel leading to the sun. There were cars around him. One of them blared some music he didn’t know. Ernie and the new kid were in the Escalade right behind him. But Kemble was far away.
In marrying Jane, he could protect her. He could get rid of her mother by getting her the help she needed in a sanatorium with locked doors. He could do something right. Jane was already part of the family. They all trusted her and respected her judgment. She’d fit right in. He could get on with his life. His family could stop reassuring him that magic would happen for him, which just rubbed acid in his wounds. Jane would be a comfortable companion.
Would she have him? She didn’t love him, but it wasn’t as if there were other men knocking down her door. She was so reticent, there wouldn’t be, would there? Especially since she hung around with Drew, who was, he had to admit, pretty spectacular. And now that Drew was off the market and the Tremaines were confined at the Breakers, the two of them weren’t going anywhere that Jane could meet men. So he had a free field. She must know Kemble could take her away from the misery of her life. He’d have the right to spend money on her and to fix her situation.
And if he didn’t love her, what did that matter? True love wasn’t happening for him. He’d always liked Jane. She was sensible and sort of peaceful. She wouldn’t expect anything of him, which sounded just fine right about now. Maybe they’d grow to care for each other even if they weren’t as besotted as his married siblings. It was all he could expect.
In which case, no time like the present. It felt good to finally take control of his life. His father couldn’t object. He was the one who’d given Kemble the idea. He motioned to Ernie, and cranked the wheel of his BMW into the right turn lane. There was a mall at the top of the hill.
CHAPTER THREE
“No money, no booze. If you could get a man, I wouldn’t be in this fix. No money, no booze. All those rich Tremaines you’re always on about and you can’t snag one of them? How many men are living in that dump now?” Jane’s mother was sober and mad as hell about it.
“Eight, if you count Mr. Nakamura,” Jane said. It was better to stay calm.
“The butler doesn’t count,” her mother snarled. “No money, no booze. I want a Bloody Mary.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Jane sighed. It had been a fight all afternoon. The place now smelled like disinfectant, but that was an improvement. Her mother was starting the ramp-up on compulsive behavior
, rocking up and back.
“Then give me some money and I’ll damn well get it myself. No money. No booze. Bitch.” She pounded the mattress of
her bed. “They must give you money. You’re hiding it.”
Jane’s nerves were frayed to the point where she thought they might rip entirely. She avoided the question of money. “
Mother, you don’t have a driver’s license.” She gripped her mother’s arm, trying to soothe her into lying down. It was thin, the skin slack.
“Don’t you touch me, you conniving little traitor. No money, no booze. If I knew who your father was, I’d give him a piece of my mind for saddling
me with you.” Her mother cocked her arm and Jane put up her forearms to block the slap she knew was coming.
The sound of the doorbell pulled both their heads around. Who could that be? Had her mother managed to call for delivery again? Jane had been watching the phone like a hawk. But her mother’s surprise meant she hadn’t been expecting anyone.
“Calm down, Mother. Let me see who that is.”
Her mother subsided into incoherent grumbling. Jane went to the door.
Kemble Tremaine was about the last person she expected to see standing there. “Oh.” She put up a hand to cover her cheek. She knew from the mirror this morning the bruise was awful, the cut ugly, and the whole side of her face swollen. Then she peered at him. He looked really nervous. He was fingering something in his pocket and he had a paper bag in his other hand.
“Oh, ho, you sly little whore.” Her mother slithered out of bed. “No money, no booze. Got him circling round the honeypot. You aren’t as dumb as you seem. No money, no booze.”
Jane felt the flush to the roots of her hair. Her nerves snapped. She rounded on her mother. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Just . . . just lay down.”
“No money, no booze.” Her mother advanced on Kemble. Oh sweet Jesus, she was going to come on to him. “You want a little action? You can do better than this piece of wet bread.”
“Mother!”
“Hi, Mrs. Holmby. I brought you a gift.” Kemble held out the paper bag, around Jane.
Her mother gave a gasp as she snatched it. Jane had a hard time getting her breath as she realized what it was. Her mother started laughing, long and loud, as she skinned the bag from the bottle. A pint of Gordon’s gin.
Jane whirled on Kemble, forgetting about her cheek. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He didn’t answer, but grabbed her hand. That wasn’t like Kemble. The surprise must be why it made her feel so strange. Jane looked around wildly.
“Jane will be back soon,” Kemble rumbled in that baritone that always melted her.
Her mother had already turned away and was unscrewing the bottle cap. She didn’t even acknowledge Kemble. He pulled Jane out the door and shut it.
“I think I’m keeping your mother busy so she doesn’t have the urge to redecorate while you’re gone.” He gave her a tight smile.
“You have just undone a whole day’s work.”
Kemble pulled her out to the driveway. The black SUV with the security guys in it was parked
at the curb. Kemble’s BMW was in the drive. “Don’t be silly. She’s won’t quit until she’s locked someplace where she doesn’t have any choice but to quit.”
He was right about that. The depression she’d been fighting off all day roosted on Jane’s shoulders and dug its talons in. What was the use of arguing with her mother about the alcohol? Any victory was temporary. She might as well go over to the Breakers and let Brina
Heal her cheek. She could at least avoid the scar. Kemble opened the car door. She got in and slumped on the leather seat.
He strode around the car without a word, got behind the wheel and slammed the door. His lips were a thin, determined line. Then he seemed to see her for the first time. “Jane, that
. . . that cheek looks really painful.” His face contorted with an angry look. “I should have been over here first thing this morning. You . . . you didn’t even have your car.” He was angry with himself, of course.
“Mr. Edwards brought it over this morning. And after I practically threw you out last night, I think you were allowed some reticence. I probably scared you to death.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘scared,’ exactly. We’ll get your cheek taken care of.”
“I could have gone to the doctor if I needed to, you know.”
He snorted. “You never want anything for yourself, Jane. I’ll take care of that too.”
What did he mean by that? The motor purred to life and Kemble put his arm over the back of her seat to turn and look out the rear window as he backed out. His fingers brushed her shoulder. She closed her eyes as the sensation shot up her spine. Did he have to be so careless?
She’d thought he’d come over to chastise her for not getting to the Breakers earlier for Healing. She should have known he’d berate himself instead. It was very kind of him to think of her now. He pulled up the street and the SUV swung around to follow. As they turned onto Palos Verdes West she glanced over to him. He was fairly vibrating with . . . nervous tension? Determination? She couldn’t quite figure it out.
“What
. . . what’s wrong, Kemble? Has something happened at the Breakers?” Maybe somebody was sick. Maybe somebody died. “You’re scaring me.”
The smile he gave her was the most forced grimace she’d ever seen. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Oh, that makes me feel better,” she muttered. But he wasn’t going to tell her what it was. Instead, he surprised her by turning left at Hawthorne and sliding into the little shopping center behind the Admiral Risty, an old-school, red-booth dinner place with a wide-water view of the Pacific. The security detail pulled in behind them. He was taking her for a drink? “Aren’t you going to be late for dinner at home?”
“Yes, I am.” He nodded his head convulsively. The man was sweating. It was that stupid jacket and tie he insisted on wearing when he was working, even though they worked in the office wing of the Breakers. Even Brian didn’t wear a tie.
“You want to loosen the tie or something?” He really looked like he was about to choke.
“No.” He took a big breath and let it out slowly. Then he turned to her. “I have something I want to ask you, Jane. And I don’t want you to say anything until I’m done explaining.”
“Uh. Okay.” Jane was getting a very bad feeling about this. It was going to be something about what he wanted to do with her mother. She just knew it. And she wouldn’t be able to accept his largesse, so he’d try to bully her into it just like his father would.
He looked out over the parked cars. “I’m never going to get magic. I talked to Senior and he agrees. We think the gene is recessive in me. I’ve known it for a while.”
She started to protest, but he held up a hand. It was shaking a little. That stopped her far more effectively than anything he could have said. He wasn’t the kind of guy to tremble.
“So.” He acted as though that settled everything. “So he agrees that I ought to get on with my life. Settle down. And the good part of it is that if I’m not waiting for the bolt of lightning, well, then I can marry whomever I want. So I’m asking you.”
Jane felt like she’d been struck deaf, dumb, and blind by that lightning bolt. Kemble was . . . asking her to . . . marry him? After all these years, he realized he loved her. . . .
“Now don’t say no,” he rushed on. “Just because we’re not in love doesn’t mean this can’t work out. You need a refuge
, Jane, and if we marry, I can give that to you.”
Jane carefully shut her mouth, though that didn’t mean she could breathe.
Kemble looked down at his hands, still on the steering wheel. “And the family already loves you. It wouldn’t be like bringing a stranger into the house. Or, I could give you a house of your own. No reason you have to live at the Breakers. We can do security for a house right around here. And I’ll make sure your mother is taken care of. Enough money cures everything, Jane, and if it’s one thing I have, it’s money.” His eyes were so earnest, so sincere it was likely to break her heart.
He’d given up. So he might as well marry her. Something heavy sat on her chest.
He got an anxious look. “So . . . uh . . . what do you think?”
She hardly trusted herself to speak.
“Oh. Wait.” He lifted his hips to get his hand into the pocket of his slacks and drew out a small square velveteen box. It said the name of the department store at the top of the hill on the bottom. He fumbled with it until he got it right-side up and popped it open. A diamond ring gleamed in the rosy light of the setting sun. The setting was simple, just a band with three medium diamonds set in it. They glinted in the afternoon light.
“I didn’t think you’d want one of those big diamonds that are always catching on everything. These
. . . these are nice stones though.” He cleared his throat.
It was actually just the kind of ring she would want the man she loved to give her. But not like this. She took a breath. “Kemble, you don’t want to marry me.” It took all the courage she had to speak those words.
“But I do,” he protested. “You’re perfect. You’re smart. You’re a calming influence on the family, especially the younger ones.” His voice softened. “And marrying me will give you a place, Jane. Let me take care of you.”
She couldn’t marry Kemble when he didn’t love her. That would be too selfish.
He put the box with the ring on the dashboard and took both her hands in his larger ones. After the shock that went straight to her groin and the points of her breasts, what she noticed was that the warmth, the slight moisture born of his anxiety, enveloped her with his inherent goodness. She felt . . . maybe not loved, but at least treasured. “I need you, Jane,” he said. “And I think you need me too. Sometimes life just provides solutions we aren’t expecting.”
The words were simple, spoken from his heart. He needed her. It was the one ploy that might get her to agree to this. And the way he said it meant it wasn’t a cynical attempt to bowl over her objections. She couldn’t bear how unhappy he’d been lately. Maybe this solution freed him from the razor-sharp pain of wondering if it would ever happen for him, thinking he’d never be good enough. She wanted to believe that, because suddenly, she wanted to throw all sense and caution off the cliffs at the Breakers and accept him. Married to Kemble Tremaine, just as she’d dreamed since she was fourteen. A real member of the Tremaine family, with a right to be making tiramisu for their dinner, or cutting their fresh flowers for the arrangements on the table.