Chapter 23

Coulter

I heard her coming up the stairs, although her footsteps were light. I had my ear pressed to the door and as she came close, I vaulted over my desk like a twelve-year-old and sat there, waiting. I’d only seen her from afar since she’d left Chicago. I felt my heart pounding and my groin ached with wanting her.

The door opened and there she was. My Juliet.

“You.” Her word was more of an accusation than a realization.

I nodded. “Yes, me.”

She rolled her eyes and threw her arms out to her side. “How could I not know this?”

I shrugged. “I went to a great deal of trouble to make sure you wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you would run again.”

“But…”

“Well? You would have, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have taken the job, or the car or the expense account. You wouldn’t have taken anything that came from me, even if you’d earned it. Am I right?”

She nodded resignedly. “You’re right. Why, Colt? Why do you continue to pursue me? Why did you do all that you did?”

“I’m in love with you.”

She sucked in her breath and went pale. I came around the desk, walked her to the leather sofa and handed her a snifter filled with brandy. Getting one for myself, I sat down next to her.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you destroy my apartment. All my things? My wardrobe, for heaven’s sake, Colt. I’m still paying for it and never got to wear a fraction of it. Why would you do that to me?”

What was she talking about? “Gwen, you have to believe me. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who broke into your apartment and when was this?”

“It wasn’t you?”

“Hell, no! Why would I do something like that? That’s insane!”

She looked at the snifter and nodded. “Now that you put it like that, I see your point. But there wasn’t anyone else, Colt. Everyone else was accounted for.”

“It could have been some kid, looking for dope money. God, Gwen, I don’t know.”

“No, this was deliberately aimed at me. Bitsy and Carrie’s things were untouched. Mine were destroyed.”

I felt alarm and anger surfacing. “Who would hate you that much?”

She shook her head. “No one I can think of. No one, Colt. I thought you were trying to control me—that you ruined my things so I would be forced to take what you gave me. I thought that’s why it was only my stuff that was destroyed.”

“Jesus, Gwen, does that sound like me?” I rolled my eyes. “Do you really consider me a maniac?”

She shook her head.

I went to hold her, but she held me off. “What about the phone calls with no answer? The envelope of shredded newspapers? The pizzas?”

I was really getting alarmed then. “Gwen, listen to me. I send pizzas to your house because I know you’re tired on Friday nights and I wanted you to relax. But that’s it. I know nothing about phone calls or shredded newspaper. You have to tell me who would have reason to do this to you.”

“That’s it—I don’t know. I blamed you only because I couldn’t think of anyone else. I’m sorry.”

“Well, that’s flattering.”

“Colt, don’t be like that,” she said, reaching out to me. “I was scared. Everything was weird, and the apartment thing felt really invasive. You have to admit you’ve been following me. You know I asked you not to.”

I had to admit it. “Yes, that’s true. I’m not wanting to spook you, Gwen. God, no. That’s the last thing. I’m in love with you and don’t want to lose you. The rest, well, I am trying to take care of you.”

“All I want is someone to trust, Colt. That’s it.”

I felt cold inside as I stared at the wreckage that was the woman I loved. “It was him that made you this way, wasn’t it? Carrie’s father.”

She froze and then began to cry, nodding. I handed her tissues and held her. I wanted her to get it all out.

“I’m not going to ask you about it because that’s your past. You are my future. I want you to marry me, Gwen. Come here and live with me, you and Carrie. We’ll stay here in Brookfield—hell, I’m sort of starting to like the little place. Let me look after the both of you. I don’t need to work, except if I get bored and somehow I don’t think life around you could be boring.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

“Oh, my god, Gwen, you’re not even going to put up an argument? I love you, and I don’t want to question this, but what turned you around? A moment ago, you came in here accusing me of vandalism, terrorism and I don’t know what else. What changed your mind?”

“Because, I love you, too. I knew it the moment I walked in here and saw you. It was like we’d never been apart. I’ve missed you so much and even though I thought those horrible things about you, it never made me stop loving you. I figure that’s a good start to get through a marriage.”

I pulled her against me and hugged her so tightly she began pounding my back to release her. “Can’t… breathe…” she gasped, and I kissed her.

“Let me give you a little mouth-to-mouth.”

She nodded, but I reached over and lifted her up, against me and took her down the hall to my bedroom.

“My sweet Juliet. I had the costume made for you especially.”

“I thought the colors were a perfect match,” she smiled.

I set her down and reached behind her and began unbraiding her hair, laying the tiara on the nightstand. “I want to see you naked,” I whispered, and she nodded and began removing her clothes.

When she finally stood before me in all her glory, I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. She came toward me and began unbuttoning my shirt, pulling the tail out of my pants and then undid my belt. A few, swift hand movements and my clothes were in a puddle on the floor with her gown. We stood naked against one another, man against woman.

I reached forward and touched her breast, weighing it in my hands. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“You can tell me again,” she allowed.

“You are beautiful, my sweet Gwennie. I’ve been waiting for you all my life without knowing it. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been like a tune in my head I can’t forget. I try to put you out of my mind, but you’re always there.”

I pushed her smoothly against the comforter and pushed her legs wide. I took her then, without preamble, without preparation, and without guilt. She had been mine for so long, I just wanted to finally claim her. I think she knew that because she became instantly pliable, receiving my thrusts and matching me, rhythm to rhythm.

There was a sweetness to our lovemaking. It was not sexual teasing or dominating roughness. We were reuniting what shouldn’t have ever been separated—a recombination of spirits. We let our bodies celebrate the feel of one another, taking our time and letting skin excite skin. At one point, I stopped and pulled her hard against me. “Swear to me you won’t leave again,” I ordered her.

“I swear.”

“Never?”

“Never, ever.”

I thrust hard then, finding her depth and driving into her with all the frustration and longing I’d felt for her. She answered me with her body and soon, the crest was upon us and the liquid fire spread through our bodies. I held her against my chest, not wanting to let go because I feared she’d run off again.

We lay there a very long time. “I have to go,” she said, her head popping up. “Carrie.”

“All taken care of. She’s staying with Peter and Kathy at the cottage here on the estate. She’s fine.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but I saw the decision to trust me come into her eyes. She nodded, laid her head back on my chest and drifted off to sleep.