Chapter 18

At seven a.m., Juliet stood in her workroom, staring at her floral refrigerators. She’d slept with Rafe. Not in the marital sense. They’d fallen asleep in her bed, when she’d been in that void between dreams and reality. But she remembered her hand on his chest. The warmth had burned through his T-shirt, to her heart, down to her toes.

They might be divorced, yet he still claimed her heart. And while she wasn’t happy about that, she wasn’t angry either. Maybe she was just tired.

Bob came in through the back door with a smile and a “Good morning, Miss Juliet,” followed by Philip carrying a tray with two coffees and a bakery bag.

“Good morning.” She opened her notebook on the worktable. “Bob, I spoke with Pearson’s Nursery. They have enough lilies and can ship them this morning. Can you send someone to the cathedral to accept delivery?”

“I’ll do it, Miss Juliet. I just left the planting crew at Liberty Square. As long as the city water workers get the fountain working and the electric system passes inspection, the square will be done by Sunday.”

Thank God something was going right. Then she remembered that the workers had to be paid.

Philip handed her a coffee. “I heard about the church. Any idea who was responsible?”

Although he smiled, his voice sounded accusatory, like he was hurt she hadn’t called.

She took a sip before answering. “No. I haven’t spoken to Detective Garza yet.”

Bob went through the new work orders, muttering, “I don’t get what the world’s coming to, Miss Juliet.”

“I don’t either, Bob.”

“I’m glad no one was hurt.” Philip squinted at her. “Is that a bruise on your face?”

“I didn’t sleep well.” She took money from her purse—her tips from last night. “Bob, here’s three hundred dollars for the lilies. Please get a receipt.”

“Will do, Miss Juliet.” Bob pocketed the money and the work order.

She followed Bob to the lot behind her store where he’d parked the truck. “I have to take some personal time later. Samantha will be here, and I’ll have my cell. If you need—”

Bob held up his hand, and a grin broke up his sun-darkened face. “All will be well, Miss Juliet.”

She hoped so.

Inside the front room, she found Philip on his cell. She put down her coffee to eat her donut without dropping sugar on her dress.

Philip winked at her. “Thank you, Mr. Delacroix.”

“What was that about?” she asked once he’d hung up.

“I’m working on a new architectural proposal worth a lot of money. Maybe enough so I can become a partner in the firm.”

“That’s wonderful.” She popped the last bit of donut into her mouth. “What’s the project?”

“Mr. Delacroix wants to restore Prideaux House. Once he buys it from the Habersham sisters. It looks like we’ll be working together when you get the garden job.”

“Great.” She headed around her counter to find a tissue for her sticky hands. She was happy for him, but she didn’t want the time they spent together to encourage his attentions. They were good friends, but just friends.

“Juliet? Have you told Calum about Carina not paying you?”

“No. Calum hates it when I bring up my problems with Carina.” She wiped her hands and found her coffee again. “I need solutions.”

“We’ll do it together, if you let me.” Philip took a gardenia out of the vase on the counter and tucked it behind her ear. She reached for it until he took her hand. “You love gardenias.”

“That’s why she wore them on her wedding day.”

Rafe. Heat flashed up her arms to her face. She yanked her hand free and took out the flower, loosening strands along the way.

Rafe’s gaze found hers, claiming something he didn’t deserve, and she was grateful for the counter between them.

Philip crossed his arms.

Rafe picked up the flower she’d tossed on the counter. “You wore gardenias in your hair with your bridal veil.”

“I remember.” It’d been a simple event. Short dress for her. Dress blue uniform for him. Besides the priest, the only witnesses had been Pops; Rafe’s mother, Tess; Philip; and Calum. The flowers had been a last-minute addition from Tess while they’d waited outside the church for Juliet’s daddy to show up. Which never happened.

Rafe smiled. “Every time I smell gardenias, I think of our wedding night.”

Philip snorted.

She forced herself to look at Rafe’s tattoos. Except he’d traded his leather coat for a black field jacket over his black T-shirt. Instead of jeans, he wore black combat pants and boots. The blue ribbon around his wrist was visible when he moved his arms. Then she made the mistake of looking at his hands. Those hands that held her head at the perfect angle for his kisses.

Every breath stuttered. Why do I feel this way?

“What are you doing here?” Philip sounded like he was choking on his donut.

Rafe held out his hand. “Nice to see you too, Brother.”

Philip took his hand but dropped it quickly.

Rafe shifted his attention to her. “Didn’t Juliet tell you? We’re working together.”

“On what?” Philip spat out the question.

“For a way to sell her land,” Rafe said before she could answer. “My name is on her deeds.”

Calum entered in a gray linen suit, white starched shirt, and pink silk tie. “I didn’t know we were having breakfast.” He took a donut out of the bag on the counter and bit into it. Then he blew Juliet a kiss and licked sugar off his fingers.

She wanted to slap him but handed him a tissue instead. “What are you doing here?”

Calum smiled. “Reintroducing brothers to each other. And eating donuts.”

Philip stared at Rafe. “Shouldn’t you be standing trial for treason somewhere?”

Rafe smiled. Yet, despite the upward turn of his mouth, his lips were shut tight.

“Rafe is here at my request,” Calum said. “He’s also living in my apartment above Dessie’s dress shop. Which, by the way, is closed for another week.”

Juliet nodded. Lara, the owner, had called Juliet a few days ago to let her know. “Lara is staying in Paris for some more fashion shows.”

“Rafe is living across the courtyard from Juliet?” Philip said. “Why?”

“Rafe needed a place. And you should know, Juliet, that I asked Rafe to convince you not to sell your land.”

“We need to talk.” She took Calum’s arm and dragged him into the back room. Once near her floral refrigerators, she turned on him. “What games are you playing?”

He finished his donut and grinned. “No games. I think selling your land is a monumentally bad idea.”

“You have no idea of the pressure I’m under—”

“Actually, I do.” He found a towel near the flower sink and wiped his hands. “I know about your loan. I know Carina is a bitch. And I know what you were doing last night.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Not if we strike a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

Calum took out his phone to start texting. “You work with Rafe to help him in his endeavor, and I won’t say a word to anyone about your other job. Either last night or the past seven years.”

“Six and a half years.”

He glanced at her with a hooded gaze. “Six years, seven months, and three days.”

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She couldn’t have a headache yet. It wasn’t even eight a.m. “If I asked you for money, would you lend it to me?”

“Nope.”

She dropped her arms. “Would you ask Carina to pay her bill?”

“Wouldn’t help.” He stopped texting and held up his phone. “I’ve arranged dinner for you two to talk. Tonight. 700 Drayton. Eight o’clock. Bring your renditions and your best argument. Remember, Carina can smell insecurity and fear.”

Juliet leaned against the table and sighed.

Calum squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You have everything you need to succeed. If you help Rafe, he’ll sign your deeds. Although I’ll contest the sale any way I know how.”

“I hate you,” she said as her cell phone rang in her pocket.

Calum kissed her forehead. “You should get that. It’s probably Detective Garza.”

She pressed her ringing phone against her stomach and asked one more question. “Did you get Rafe out of prison?”

Calum shrugged and started texting again. Then he left the room, whistling the theme to Star Wars.

Once alone, she answered, “Juliet’s Lily.”

“Miss Capel. It’s Detective Garza.”

She sighed. “Good morning, Detective. Do you have any news?”

“Not yet. I’ve been researching Rafe’s release. And I’d like to meet. In private. How about I swing by the store later. Around four?”

“Okay. Should I be worried?”

“Yes, Miss Capel. Very.”

* * *

Rafe had had enough of his brother’s glares. Considering Philip was, after all these years, still pining after Juliet, this second meeting of theirs could’ve been worse. There could’ve been blood. But right now Rafe’s goal was to work with Juliet to find that vial. When Calum had shown up at the apartment where Rafe should’ve slept, half an hour after he’d left Juliet, he’d been glad. It meant it was time to get to work.

Ignoring Philip, Rafe checked out the security situation. Anything to keep his mind focused on things other than lying in bed next to his wife. High-end cameras. Double-bolt locks. Steel door leading to the back alley. Not great. But suitable.

He pulled in more scented air, her presence evident in every detail. The silver filigree floral bowls. The dainty halogen ceiling lights. The drawings of single blooms, outlined in gold, hanging on the wall. Tingles ran up his back, as if someone watched him.

When Calum came back into the room, typing on his phone, Rafe asked, “Why is Gabriel here?”

Calum talked and texted at the same time. “After Gerald’s death, I hired men to bring back the only things of value left in the manor. Including Gabriel.” When Calum put his phone away, he added, “I set up dinner tonight for Juliet and Carina to work out their financial differences. I expect both of you to be there.”

After hearing the details, Philip smiled at Rafe through tight lips. “Do you have anything appropriate to wear?”

Calum answered first. “Rafe, the tailor will leave the clothes we ordered in the apartment. He has a key if you’re not home.”

Rafe nodded because there was nothing else to say. When Calum played chess, he moved all the pieces.

Philip’s phone dinged. “I have to get to work.”

Calum smiled. “I’ll tell Juliet you said goodbye.”

With a parting glare, Philip stormed out.

“Did you send Philip away?” Rafe asked.

Calum reached for the last donut. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Juliet appeared and snagged the donut out of Calum’s hand. “Where’s Philip?”

“Went to work.” Calum took the donut back, broke it, and handed her half. “But cheer up, he thinks he’s doing it all for you.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not the one who’s leading him on.”

“I’m not leading him on. I’m being gentle.”

Calum smirked around a mouthful of donut. “How’s that working?”

A blush rose from her neckline to her cheeks. In a blue strapless dress that skimmed her hips and hit her knees, and a white lace sweater barely covering her shoulders, she was a vision of everything beautiful in the world. Everything Rafe’s world wasn’t. Her hair, twisted up, showcased her graceful neck and shoulders. Even the long curls that had escaped only softened her businesslike demeanor. When he’d walked in and seen the flower in her hair, memories had hit like a bullet:

Juliet walking down the aisle to meet him.

Their first kiss as man and wife.

The way her body fit against his during their first wedding dance.

Juliet arching beneath him on their wedding night.

His jaw cranked, and his heart raced a beat he’d never felt before.

“Why are you still here, Calum?” She wiped donut sugar off her lips with a tissue. “Since you disapprove of my choices, maybe you should interfere in someone else’s life.”

Rafe chuckled.

As did Calum. “I wanted to make sure we’re all getting along.”

“I get along with everybody,” Rafe said.

She coughed and took a sip of her coffee. “What are we looking for?”

Calum finished his pastry. “A seventeenth-century vial owned by Anne Capel.”

She scrunched her nose. “Why would you think this vial is still around? Or that I’d be able to help you?”

“We believe”—Calum nodded at Rafe—“your lily is tied to the vial.”

“How?” she asked Rafe.

Rafe shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I don’t know.”

“How does Nate fit into this?”

Rafe glanced at Calum. Then he decided he didn’t give a shit what Calum thought. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone. It’s the kind of classified that keeps A-teams from getting killed.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

He believed her. She’d been a wife in the unit and understood the risks. He told her about Nate’s operation in Afghanistan and the massacre, POW camps, rescue, and imprisonment.

She paled and sat at a table beneath the picture window, cradling her coffee. “I knew something bad had happened…”

He sat across from her. “How?”

“Abigail, Liam Casey’s wife. After I left Fort Bragg, Abigail and I kept in touch. A few years later, she called me from Rhode Island. She’d left Fort Bragg alone. Now she’s a well-known botanical artist. Her original paintings hang in an exclusive art gallery in Newport, and I sell her prints on commission here in the shop.”

“Liam is in prison with Colonel Keeley and two A-teams from my former unit.”

“Are you sure you can trust Nate’s story?” She tapped her fingers on the table until Rafe covered her hand with his. “If Nate was imprisoned, why is his hair long?”

An excellent question.

Calum sat in the third chair. “Nate and his men were sentenced immediately upon their return to the states. While his men went to prison, Nate was suffering seizures and taken to a medical facility in Maine. Maybe the hospital didn’t bother cutting his hair.”

“And Pete?” Rafe asked Calum.

“Pete and his A-team were in the Command Center with Kells Torridan outside the combat theater.”

“Pete is still in the army?” she asked.

“Technically, yes. But Pete and Torridan’s remaining men are facing trials of their own. They’re accused of helping coordinate the massacre.”

Calum added, “Because they’re a flight risk, they’ve been suspended from duty without pay and have had their accounts frozen until the trials.”

“Why is Nate here?” Juliet asked Rafe.

“Colonel Torridan found a clue about who set up the units in Afghanistan. He sent Nate and Pete to check it out.”

“What kind of clue?”

“Five years ago, on the night of the ambush, four wives in the unit—including Abigail—received a flower. A rare white lily with eight petals.”

Juliet sucked in her breath. “That lily hasn’t grown on Capel land in decades.”

“How would you know?” Calum said. “You own thousands of acres you never visit.”

“Because my daddy hunted my lily with the same ferocity he hunted boars.”

“Still,” Rafe said, “it’s possible the women were sent one of your lilies. It’s also possible your lily grows elsewhere.”

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen it in any textbook or grower’s list. In grad school, I never mentioned it. Daddy was paranoid and delusional, and I was afraid of what he’d do to a grad student searching for a new species. I have no idea what my lily has to do with this vial or a Special Forces operation in Afghanistan.”

“I don’t either,” Calum said. “But I know where to start. The Habersham sisters. They’ve been studying your lily for years.” Calum kissed Juliet on the cheek and stood. “Don’t forget dinner tonight. If you want your money, come armed with confidence.”

A moment later, he was gone.

The silence between Rafe and Juliet stretched out. The space between them vibrated. His hand still held hers, but she seemed lost in thought. Although she’d covered the bruises on her face with makeup, it didn’t hide the bluish stain. He wanted to ask her about the club and about what happened with Nate, but Rafe had no right to push.

He needed her to trust him enough to share her traumas without his prompting. If he forced her to talk before she was ready, she’d retreat and he might never be able to reach her.

The only problem with that plan was it meant lying to her. If she found out he knew about what happened with Nate and hadn’t said anything, she might feel betrayed and powerless. Two things that would send her running out of his arms instead of into them. A calculated risk. The kind he was good at but also the kind he hated.

He squeezed her hand until she looked up. “Do you want to see the sisters?”

“It’s early. We can’t just drop in.”

“You should go now.” Samantha came in from the back wearing a long white skirt and black cami, her hair in a tangled braid. She scowled at Rafe. “I’ll handle the store. The sooner you do whatever it is you’re doing, the sooner he leaves. Right?”

Juliet glanced at him before standing. “I’ll get my bag.”

Once she left the room, Samantha turned on him. “You’re a colossal asshole.”

“What’s wrong now?”

“Deke disappeared last night.”

Rafe stood. “Excuse me?”

“Nate got beat up by some buddy of yours. And Detective Garza has some super-secret contact digging up info about you and Nate. Then Pete and I spent the night nursing Nate through the worst seizure ever.” She rearranged flowers in a container on the counter, shoving yellow roses around. “Nate needs a hospital. I think his head might explode.”

Rafe unlocked the phone Calum had given him earlier. “I’ll wait for Juliet outside.”

Samantha waved a hand in dismissal. “Pete and Nate are good guys, and they’re trusting you are too. So even if you’re not, pretend you are.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rafe headed into the courtyard across from Dessie’s dress shop. Garden statuary, including angels, almost-naked Roman women, and cherubs with flutes, lined the perimeter of the bricked-in area. Once in the shade, with the fountain as white noise, he took off his jacket. Despite the sweltering heat, keeping his arms covered while with Juliet was a priority.

Scrolling through his phone contacts, he silently thanked Calum for preprogramming numbers. Not sure which ones he’d use the least—Philip’s or the tailor’s—Rafe dialed Nate, who picked up on the second ring. “What happened last night?”

“Nate’s asleep,” Pete said. “Balthasar jumped Nate. Deke got away. Then Nate spazzed on a grand mal seizure.”

“You’re sure it was Balthasar?”

“He fucking bowed, bro. Then offered Nate a spot on Team Prince.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Then Balthasar asked about a vial. You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

Rafe sat on the edge of the raised fountain. While the cool mist coated the back of his neck and arms, he decided their only chance of survival was to go with the truth. “I’m looking for a seventeenth-century vial owned by Anne Capel.”

“The Anne Capel Torridan wants us to find?”

“Yes. Did Balthasar say anything else about the vial?”

“Balthasar mentioned someone named Romeo, who I’m guessing is you, wants it. Balthasar also admitted that Colonel Torridan knows about the vial.”

Whoa. “Wait. Torridan knows?”

“Apparently,” Pete said. “But I’m not going to ask Torridan about it because we’ll have to admit we’re working with you. And that’s not going to go over well.”

True. “And Deke? How’d he escape a locked room when he was nailed to the floor?”

“Not sure. The security cameras don’t record.”

Why was Rafe not surprised? He rubbed his chin, feeling a light stubble. Juliet had always liked his stubble. “Deke has disappeared?”

“Yep.” Pete sighed. “Calum called this morning and suggested Nate go to the Savannah Preservation Office to see if they have anything about Juliet’s lily or Anne Capel.”

“Good idea. Juliet and I are checking out a lead, and I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll be at the club earning cash to keep us fed and housed.” Pete paused.

“What’s wrong?”

“According to Luke, our unit’s computer wizard, Garza’s been poking around our shared history. The detective has access to serious black ops intel.”

“One problem at a time, Pete. And don’t forget—stay away from men who bow.”