Secrets and Lace: A Dark Romance Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 1) (12 page)

“The money isn’t important. I love him. That's all that matters.”

“Love is dead, my friend.” Lindsay reached for another half-empty glass of champagne and drained it, too. “Trust me. Take the money and run.”

“I see.” I pushed back my chair and stood, smoothing down my Dolce & Gabbana black-and-red lace cocktail dress. “Please excuse me. I need to discuss something with Kirsten. I'll see you at the gym soon.”

“Since I'm not invited to your wedding,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the rock ’n’ roll song that had just started playing, “I wish you loads of happiness. Maybe you’re one of the lucky ones.” She raised her glass to me. I nodded and walked away, weaving around some of the guests who were leaving the dance floor to return to their tables for more champagne.

They beamed at me, and some asked to see the ring again. I played along. I did the right things and said the words they wanted to hear, and then I continued looking for Kirsten.

I found her sitting at the bar, talking to one of the bartenders, a man who had doubled as a stripper not long ago. She wore a simple black dress, and her fiery hair was wrapped in a beautiful chignon. Unlike most of the women in the room, she and I weren't skin and bones. Even though we went to the gym and lived healthy lifestyles, we didn't live on salad, water, and wine. Over the years, after trying every diet in the book in an attempt to lose weight, I had found peace with the fact that I was not meant to be stick-thin, and reached a size that I felt was perfect for me. I was not thin, but I was slim and toned, and Miles found that sexy.

I reached the bar and Kirsten got up to kiss me on both cheeks. She gave me a real hug, too. No brief touches or air kisses.

“Hey sweetie, I hope you're having a good time.”

“I am. You did an amazing job. I never thought you’d organize something for a hundred guests. You didn't have to put yourself through all the stress.”

“Anything for you.” We both sat down on the barstools, facing each other. “I never forgot what you did for me, you know. I owe you so much.”

Three years ago, Kirsten was stuck in a difficult situation. Her beauty spa, Elements, had been burned to the ground and the insurance company refused to pay out, since one of her employees had been responsible for causing the fire. Kirsten was devastated to lose the business that had been her life. We had been friends for less than a year at the time, but I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I had done nothing. I gave her the money to rebuild her dream, expecting no repayment.

“I can't believe you still bring that up. You don't owe me anything.” Even though I wasn't a billionaire like Miles,
Sage
had given me quite a nice cushion, one I could lean on comfortably for years.

“You have no idea how happy I am to call you my friend.”

“I'm the lucky one.” I asked the bartender for a glass of water.

Kirsten touched my hand and her face grew serious. “Are you sure you're all right? I kind of got the feeling during dinner that you were distracted. Are the wedding plans getting to you?”

I reached for my water and took a sip while I contemplated what to say. “I'm okay. I've just had so many things going on at work... and my mom being sick, and yes, the wedding has added to the stress as well. It is fun stress, though.”

“If I were you, I'd have eloped. What matters most are the vows you'll be making to each other.”

“I agree. But we can't let everyone down. Three hundred people have committed to coming. And most of the guests are Miles’s business partners.”

“Who cares? I bet most people would think it's romantic.” She shrugged. “But I guess if you eloped I wouldn’t have the chance to strut my stuff down the aisle as your maid of honor.”

I smiled, but my mind was far away. What Kirsten had just said gave me an idea. After a few seconds I managed to let go of my thoughts and refocused on our conversation.

“I'm so sorry about your mom, honey. I don't even know what to say.”

“Thanks. I still can’t believe she only has a couple of months left to live.” My heart sank at the thought of Mom all alone in Misty Cove. “Miles and I put off our honeymoon for six months. After the wedding I'm going home to take care of her, since she refuses to come here, except to see a specialist. Miles had to talk her into that one. She insists she wants to die in her own home.”

“I think that's a great idea… her coming here, I mean, even for a short while. I can't wait to meet her at the wedding.”

I nodded. Kirsten was a great friend. After talking to her for a few more minutes, I could breathe a little easier.

***

On my way home in one of Miles’s limousines, my thoughts returned to my conversation with Kirsten. Maybe eloping
was
the solution I needed to get control over my life again. I never wanted anything to come between me and my marriage to Miles. But of course, there were many reasons why we couldn't do it. It wouldn't hurt to bring it up to Miles, though, just to see what he thought.

When I arrived, Miles thanked the driver for bringing me home safely and they said their goodbyes. I was in the bedroom changing when he walked in, a strange expression on his face.

I went to him and kissed him. He kissed me with a hunger I had rarely seen in him before, and then, without even waiting for us to reach the bed, he pushed me hard against the bedroom door, so hard my breath hitched inside my throat. I was turned on, but surprised.

He was like someone else, even being a little rough. He yanked my bra off and pushed my panties down. Then he turned me around so I was facing the door, my cheek pressed against the wood. Then his finger was inside me, digging deep, building pleasure while he pressed his lips to the back of my neck.

I moaned as desire flooded my every pore. Then, just as I was on the verge of coming, he pulled out. I didn't turn as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. When he pushed into me, the movement was so intense and rushed, my cheek slid up and down the door. He thickened inside of me. Trying to accommodate him brought both pleasure and pain. He drove into me even harder, groaning with each push, as though he was in pain. Then he let out a tortured, animalistic grunt and exploded inside me. I was about to follow suit, but he slid out at the last second.

“What was that all about?” I walked to the bed and sat down, my cheeks burning. “That was a little unfair, don’t you think?” He’d always waited for me to come—always.

He zipped up his pants without meeting my eyes. “Chloe, in case you haven't noticed, the past few days have been hard for me. I hate thinking I'm sharing you with someone else, and I don't know how to stop it. I guess I just needed to let some of the frustration out. I'm sorry, if I was too rough.” He came over to the bed and kissed the side of my neck.

“What are you talking about? Who are you sharing me with?”

“Your stalker. He's taking you away from me.”

I recalled the look in his eyes when he came to see me in Misty Cove. It confirmed his jealousy. Fucking me like that was his way of trying to claim me, of reminding me that I was his and only his. I blinked. “What stalker? I didn’t get any more cards, remember?” Another lie—the cards had not stopped. “No one is stalking me anymore. Let’s move on.” I placed my hands together, a begging gesture. “Maybe we need to get away from it all. Let's go away somewhere, just for a day or two. Let's do something crazy. I was thinking… maybe we should elope.”

“Elope? Chloe, we can’t do that. What about all the people we invited to the wedding?”

“We can still have a party, except it will be an after party. I can't wait to be your wife, Miles. The sooner, the better.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned. “All right, baby. Let’s do it. Give me a day or two to plan it.”

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

“Good morning, Miss Parker. Would you like a glass of champagne as you look around?” The owner of the Lily Boutique gave me one of her brightest smiles while several of her employees paced around the store, trying desperately to catch my eye. As soon as I had entered, and they had recognized me, they stumbled over each other to get to me. The manager, of course, made it clear to them in no words at all that she was in charge of assisting me. She wanted me to spend a lot of money, and she was in luck. I intended to do just that.

“I’d like that, thank you, Liz.”

Just because Miles and I would be eloping didn't mean I couldn't look fabulous. As we exchanged vows, I would not be wearing my designer princess gown; I would feel too overdressed with just the two of us. To satisfy the anticipation of all the guests who had been invited to our wedding, I decided I would wear the wedding gown at the after party. For now, I would buy something equally stunning but with less material. Something that would blow Miles away.

I had no idea where we would be eloping, because Miles wanted to take care of all the logistics. I had the feeling it would be on a secluded beach somewhere romantic. It was just what I needed, to get away from it all. Keeping our secret between us—and the pilot who would be flying the jet—would ensure nobody tried to talk us out of our plans. And sharing a secret made me feel closer to Miles. I would be in heaven if it weren't for the stalker ruining everything.

It had taken me a whole thirty minutes this morning before I gathered up the courage to leave the house and come to town without the driver. I had plans I didn't want Miles to know about.

After trying on at least seven dresses and guzzling three glasses of champagne for courage, I opted for a strapless cream and white tea-length dress that felt right. It cost more than I had planned to spend, but it was worth it. To complete the look, and to Liz’s delight, I also bought a pair of silk-covered peep-toe heels that cost a fortune.

When I walked out of the boutique, my eyes scanned the street for my dark shadow. I almost ran the short distance from the door of the boutique to the cab that waited for me. I gave the cab driver an address.

The office building I was looking for turned out to be a house on the beach instead—a villa, actually. Feeling as though I were in the wrong place, I rang the bell and a man in his early-fifties opened the door. He was short, pot-bellied, and balding, with a fringe of white hair and a ruddy complexion. He wore slacks with a loose black shirt. When he smiled, a dimple fluttered in his left cheek.

“You must be Miss Parker.” He extended a hand and shook mine warmly. “I'm Lester Reading. Please come in.”

“Yes, I am. Thank you, Mr. Reading.” I entered, still carrying my shopping bag on my arm. I would have left it in the cab since it was waiting for me outside, but I had spent too much money to risk it. What if the cab driver decided to take a peek and then drove off with it?

“Call me Lester. Do you want me to put that somewhere for you while we talk?”

“That's okay. It's not heavy at all.”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be great.” My throat felt dry, and the champagne in my system was making me dizzy.

While he went to a bar in the living room, I stood next to a black grand piano, feeling nervous. I didn't know this man. I’d found his email address online and decided to give him a call. Now here I was, inside a stranger's home. I would have been more comfortable if it had been an office setting. What if he was dangerous? I shook my head. His business had been advertised on a reputable website, one I sometimes used in my job.

I would have hired one of the regular detectives I usually used to investigate a target for an article, but I wanted what I was doing to be as far removed from my current life as possible. And when it came down to it, I needed to know the truth.

“Let's head to the office.” Lester handed me the water and walked ahead.

I took the ice-cold water, condensation forming on the glass.

He led me to a large office flooded with natural light thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Late morning sunshine spilled in to every corner. The room was sparsely furnished: a big desk with a large computer on it, a couple of chairs, and a couch covered with all kinds of surveillance equipment. A classic black umbrella stood by the door.

He waved to a chair and went around the desk to take a seat. Leaning forward, he picked up a single die from the table, and turned it around and around in his hand.

I placed my shopping bag at my feet and met his gaze. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“That's okay. You mentioned you have an assignment for us?” His gray eyes warmed. “This is a family business, but I will be the one handling your case.”

“That's great.” I didn't care who handled my case, as long as it was handled discreetly. “I have a stalker, and I think he's dangerous.”

“Did you alert the cops?”

“I can't do that for reasons I'll tell you about in a bit. I just want to know one thing. All of this will be kept confidential, am I right?”

“Strictly.” He made a pyramid with his fingers. “What's said in here stays here. Why don't you tell me how it all started? How long has this person been stalking you?”

I took a long sip of water. “It all started when someone sent me these.” I reached into my purse and removed the cards I had gotten so far. “Unfortunately, I destroyed the first two.”

Lester opened one of the envelopes, his eyes glued to me. What was he searching for on my face? When he pulled out the card, the lace fell to the desk and he picked it up with a frown.

“Is this what I think it is?”

I nodded. “Yes, it's blood. I tested it, but I'm not sure whether it's human or animal.”

Lester observed the lace and card for a while and then put them down. “A person who brings blood into the game is usually someone who would stop at nothing to hurt his victim. You're right, Miss Parker; there’s a high possibility you’re in danger.” He cleared his throat. “I'm going to tell you the same thing I tell every client of mine before getting started on any job. I want to encourage you to go to the cops first, to see if they can help protect you.”

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