Beyond Belief
Jack
“SO, WHEN WILL YOU BE home?” Belle’s honeyed voice asked in his ear.
It was afternoon the next day and Jack was sitting behind his desk in his London office. As he listened to Belle, his eyes went to the door, which had opened.
Olive stuck her head through.
Her lips moved, no sound came out but he saw them mouth, “Dempsey.”
He lifted one finger to her. She nodded, ducked out and closed the door.
Jack went back to Belle.
“I have one more meeting and then I’ll be on my way home.”
“So, you’ll be home for dinner,” she murmured, sounding slightly uneasy and Jack’s back went straight.
But his voice was gentle when he asked, “Is there a reason you sound concerned about my being home for dinner?”
“Just that, um, Dad has decided to commandeer the kitchen.”
Jack closed his eyes.
“And,” Belle went on, “he’s done this because he’s decided to introduce you all to American food.”
Jack opened his eyes.
“He does know that I, and Mum, and Yasmin, have all been to America?” Jack asked.
“Um . . . I did inform him of that,” Belle answered.
“Repeatedly,” Jack added.
“Uh . . . yes. Actually, Joy shared that. He’s still determined,” she replied.
“And this dinner would entail?” he prompted.
Her voice was tight but not with anxiety, with suppressed laughter when she replied, “I don’t know. It could mean his Texas chili, which is so hot it’s inedible. Or it could mean his barbeque ribs, which are so messy we’ll all have to wear bibs. Or it could mean his famous flame-grilled hamburgers, which would require, um . . .” she paused then stressed her final three words mock-ominously, “an open flame.”
The thought of Jensen Abbot anywhere near an open flame did not fill him with delight.
“Poppet,” Jack said quietly, “The Point has withstood centuries of bad weather, wars, different political regimes, religious unrest and a triple murder. I like our home. You like our home. Please, for me, encourage your father to cook something that would not threaten its destruction.”
He was pleased to hear her laughter wasn’t suppressed when her sweet voice vibrated through her response. “I’ll see what I can do, honey.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Jack muttered.
The humor was sadly gone and her voice was soft and strangely wistful when she said, “I know you’re busy, Jack, but I need to share something with you.”
His voice was also soft when he returned, “I am busy, love, but never too busy for you to share something with me.”
She hesitated and whispered, “Thank you.” Then she went on quietly, “I called Dr. Flanagan and made an appointment. As you know because of . . . well, everything . . . that I’m not and haven’t been on birth control for a while. I think maybe we should, um . . . since we’ve started again, you know, yesterday and, um, last night and, uh . . . again this morning, maybe . . . we should see to that. I don’t want to—”
“Excellent, my love,” Jack whispered back. “When we’re ready to try again, we’ll plan it.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice again soft and in it was also the wistful.
But a better kind.
“Do you want me to go with you to see Dr. Flanagan?” he offered.
“If you have time. If you don’t, Mom or Gram will come with me.”
“We’ll talk about it tonight.”
“Okay, Jack.”
“In the meantime, we’ll take other precautions.”
“That sounds fun,” she muttered and he grinned because she sounded like she didn’t think it sounded fun at all.
“How about we make it fun, my love?” he suggested and his body reacted to her breathy one syllable response.
“Oh.”
He took in a deep breath to control his reaction at the same time he struggled to control all his myriad thoughts as to how they would make it fun then unfortunately he had to change the subject.
“The man I’m meeting is here. I have to go.”
“Okay,” she repeated then whispered, “See you soon. Love you, Jack.”
His body responded again to her last three words. Words she’d whispered to him for the first time last night. Words that affected him deeply then.
Words that affected him no less deeply now.
“And I you, poppet,” his reply was low and vibrating. “See you soon.”
“’Bye, Jack.”
“Soon, Belle.”
He heard her disconnect and he touched the screen on his mobile. He then dropped it to his desk, leaned forward and touched a button on the phone on his desk, which would buzz on Gillie’s phone indicating that he was ready for his visitor.
Seconds later, the door opened and Olive walked in, escorting a rather good-looking man with dark-brown hair and the bulky, honed body of a prize fighter.
Jack had taken some time that day to do an Internet search on Mickey Dempsey. Without the time to give it the attention it needed, it was by no means thorough. Nevertheless, the articles Dempsey chose to write, most especially the exposés, painted a vivid picture of the man, his interests and his principles.
Jack held Dempsey’s eyes as he walked in and without invitation sat in one of the two chairs angled opposite his desk. Only when Dempsey was seated in an insouciant lounge that was meant to communicate to Jack that Dempsey was not afraid of him, his money or his power, did Jack look to Olive.
“I’d like you to stay.”
Olive nodded and sat in the chair next to Dempsey.
Dempsey watched her do it and cut his gaze back to Jack.
It was Dempsey who opened.
“As you can guess because I’m here at your unexpected request, I’m intrigued.”
Jack wanted to be home with Belle, if not for whatever he faced being served at her father’s hand for dinner. Therefore he did not delay.
“I require your services.”
Dempsey’s eyebrows shot up. “Now I’m more intrigued.”
“Perhaps you expected something else?” Jack asked, knowing he did.
“My article came out yesterday and it has to be said, mate, you seem very protective of Belle Abbot,” Dempsey remarked.
“You’ve been watching,” Jack noted and Dempsey grinned.
“Avidly.”
Jack lifted his chin. This didn’t surprise him. He hadn’t seen him but he already knew this to be true. It was another thing he’d learned in his brief research.
Mickey Dempsey was thorough.
Dempsey’s gaze became intense. “I meant her no harm. I hope you understand that. And I assumed, considering the way you are with her, you would protect her from—”
Jack interrupted him, “Belle’s fine. And your article yesterday is not why you’re here.”
“So maybe you’ll get to explaining why I’m here?” Dempsey prompted.
Jack again lifted his chin. “First, I’ll need your assurances that if you take the assignment I’m about to offer you, everything about it will be confidential.”
Interest flashed in his eyes even as Dempsey straightened in his chair and shook his head. “Mate, I think you get what I do for a living.”
“I do, indeed,” Jack replied.
Dempsey held his gaze as he responded, “So it’s not just what I do. It’s who I am. And I can’t turn it off because a billionaire asks me, threatens me or pays me.”
Again, Jack did not delay.
“Belle’s in danger,” he shared, watched Dempsey’s eyes flare with a different light and the man’s head jerked.
Jack watched as he shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze never leaving Jack’s when he came to the wrong conclusion. “You’re you, mate. Cole is an ass but he would never be stupid enough to—”
Jack cut him off. “Cole is not my concern.”
“Then what’s your concern?” Dempsey inquired.
“Taking you back, I need your assurances that if you accept this assignment, everything about it will be confidential.”
“And taking you back, I told you I don’t work that way,” Dempsey returned.
Jack took in a breath and nodded once. “Then I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time. But I thank you for it anyway.”
Dempsey didn’t move.
Jack reached for his mobile, and while tucking it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he looked to Olive and declared, “I’m off to the airstrip. Are you coming to The Point or staying in London?”
“I have a few things to do in London,” Olive replied.
Jack stood, muttering to Olive, “Fine. I’ll be working at The Point the rest of the week.”
“Belle’s in danger?”
This came from Dempsey and Jack, who had dismissed him, looked to him.
And when he did, Jack noted he didn’t look intrigued. He looked concerned.
This also didn’t surprise him. Indeed, he’d been counting on it.
“She is,” he confirmed.
“What kind of danger?” Dempsey asked and Jack shook his head.
“I’m afraid I can’t share that information unless I feel assured you’ll protect the information I would share and thus Belle. As you’ve made it clear you won’t, this meeting is over,” Jack replied then moved to round his desk.
“Mortal danger?” Dempsey pressed as Jack moved, so Jack stopped at the side of his desk and trained his gaze on the man who also had risen from his chair.
“That’s uncertain,” he allowed then continued, “What isn’t uncertain is that any danger that could confront Belle is intolerable.”
“And you’re implying I can help,” Dempsey pushed.
Jack didn’t give a straight answer.
Instead, he said, “When there’s uncertain danger that could befall anyone, any and all help is welcomed.”
“So you’re implying I can help,” Dempsey reiterated.
Jack said not a word and held his gaze. As he did, he watched Dempsey’s internal struggle. Seeing as he did not know the man he had no idea which side was winning the conflict.
He’d know more when Dempsey noted quietly, “She’s extraordinary.”
“I’m aware of that,” Jack agreed.
“I’ve not known a single soul like her,” Dempsey carried on.
“As I have not,” Jack agreed again.
“Dignity, a huge reserve of strength all framed in an immense vulnerability. It’s quite remarkable,” Dempsey carried on.
Jack didn’t bother agreeing again.
He allowed Dempsey to study him before Dempsey whispered, “You love her.”
Jack didn’t reply.
Dempsey straightened his shoulders and demanded, “You’re keeping Cole from her?”
Jack answered but he again didn’t answer directly. “You have no reason to concern yourself with Cole’s response to that article, Mr. Dempsey, and you knew that before you sold it or you wouldn’t have sold it.”
He couldn’t be sure Dempsey played it that way until he watched the man’s eyes flare in response to his assertion.
He’d been watching Jack and Belle together. If he didn’t think Belle could withstand the article and Jack would protect her from whatever reaction it might cause in Calvin Cole, he wouldn’t have sold it.
Yes, Mickey Dempsey had principles.
It was Dempsey’s turn not to respond which, like Jack’s, was his response.
Instead, he demanded, “You’re keeping your brother from her.”
Jack fought his body getting tight so he wouldn’t show his response to the depths of Dempsey’s understanding of his and Belle’s circumstances.
And his voice was low with warning when he replied, “It would be a good idea, Mr. Dempsey, if we continue our relationship, that you let me concern myself with Belle. If your continued questions mean you’re interested in the assignment I have for you, I’ll inform you of what you should concern yourself with.”
Jack watched Dempsey again struggle internally before he ground out, “I’m interested in the assignment.”
Instantly, Jack pushed, “I have your word, everything, all of it, strictly confidential.”
“You have my word.”
“You won’t expose me, you won’t expose Belle, you won’t share what you’re told, what you find, what you see or who you meet,” Jack pressed.
Dempsey’s jaw got hard even as he failed to hide his increasing curiosity. “I won’t.”
“This will not find its way into a newspaper, magazine, book or any other form of the media, either factually or disguised in any manner.”
“It won’t,” Dempsey bit off.
Jack went on, “Our agreement won’t be put in writing until you come to terms with Olive after our meeting. But before that, I’ll explain and in doing so before an agreement has been signed, I’ll be relying on your word as a gentleman. Are you telling me I can do that?”
“You can rely on my word,” Dempsey clipped and Jack saw in the man’s eyes that he could. Therefore, he knew.
“Who was she?” he asked quietly and Dempsey’s head jerked.
“What?”
“The woman you loved who was abused,” Jack explained and watched Dempsey’s body get tight.
But he surprised Jack by sharing, “My mum.”
Jack held his gaze. Then he nodded.
With that he retraced his steps around the desk and sat down.
He only spoke again when Dempsey and Olive had both settled back in across from him but his eyes were on Dempsey when he did it.
“Prepare, Mr. Dempsey, for what I’m about to tell you will be beyond belief. Unfortunately, it’s also true. And also, I wouldn’t tell you if I didn’t think you could help and I’ll need you to do that without delay. You can discuss your fees with Olive later. Now, I need to know if you have anything else on your schedule that will prevent you from assisting us swiftly in this matter.”
Dempsey shook his head. “I don’t. Or at least nothing that can’t wait.”
Yes, Mickey Dempsey was curious.
And concerned.
Jack nodded, took in a breath, sat back in his chair, held the man’s gaze and shared a story beyond belief.
Belle
Belle sat on her rug on her cliff by The Point, wearing faded jeans, a tight white tee and a warm, chunky oatmeal cardigan, all in order to ward off the chill in the strong wind that was blowing.
Baron and Gretl were nosing the grass and rock around her as the sea smashed against the cliff wall and the wind blew the hair she didn’t bother to put in a ponytail before she came out.
It was after work, the shop closed. Her father was in the kitchen having promised no open flames or anything that might mean Jack would come home to a pile of rubble and not an imposing castle.
Rachel was with him having assured Belle she’d “keep an eye on your daddy, honeypot,” which didn’t assure Belle very much since her mom was almost as crazy as her dad, including in the kitchen. But at least it was something.
Gram was in the loft in the stables painting. Yasmin was on her way over for dinner. Jack was most likely on his way home. And Joy was assisting Cassandra and Angus with something.
And Belle was on her cliff not non-thinking.
Instead, unusually, she let her thoughts drift over her.
Over a year ago, her life turned on its head. Belle “Meek and Mild” Abbot who didn’t take risks and lived cautiously in a cage controlled by her fears had done something crazy, but brave, and since then she’d become a national hero. She’d then been involved in a public love triangle with two of Europe’s most eligible bachelors who happened to be brothers. She’d fallen in love with one of them and he with her. And now she was living in an imposing, haunted castle on a cliff.
Dipping her chin to her knees and wrapping her arms around her faded jeans clad legs, she smiled at the sea.
She didn’t think of Nathan or his loss. Instead, she had decided, whenever Nathan came to her, she was going to beat back the pain by thinking of Jack’s words of earlier that day.
When we’re ready to try again, we’ll plan it.
They’d try again and they’d plan it.
Three times in her life, only three, she’d taken a risk and jumped into cold, shark-infested waters, once literally (though those weren’t shark-infested).
The first time she saved lives. Two were lost but she saved many others.
The other two times she’d done it for the same man.
The first time with Jack, she’d messed it up. The second time, she’d learned he’d forgiven her and he’d given her her reward.
And boy, what a reward it was.
When we’re ready to try again, we’ll plan it.
They had time, they were starting a life together in a hopefully soon-to-be not haunted but always would be imposing castle on a cliff, and when they were ready, they’d start a family.
Still smiling at the sea, Belle sighed.
Maybe, just maybe, Belle “Meek and Mild” Abbot might stop being so darned meek and mild.
She might, instead, take more risks.
She wasn’t certain about this haunting business but the rest of it sure as heck paid off.
On this thought, Gretl, who was in front of her, twisted her neck to look down her body as Baron, behind Belle, gave a small, warning woof.
She’d just lifted her chin from her knees in order to look toward The Point to see what caught the dogs’ attention when she heard, “Belle.”
Her head turned, her eyes moved up and she saw Miles walking to her, the wind tousling his blond hair.
Holy heck.
She shifted her arms from around her legs, putting one hand in the rug to push herself up as the dogs roamed closer to her and she started, “Miles—”
He lifted a hand swiftly and interrupted her, “Please, Belle, don’t get up. What I have to say won’t take long.”
She pulled in a breath and kept her head tipped back to study him. His handsome face seemed thoughtful but she could read nothing else.
To her disquiet, Miles finished his approach and dropped to the grass to sit a few feet away from her. As a response, Gretl settled on her belly at Belle’s feet, her head up, eyes on Miles as Baron circled close.
“As you undoubtedly know, things have not been good, Miles, but I’m feeling better,” She told him in hopes of heading off any nastiness. “I ask that you please don’t mess that up.”
He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m pleased to hear that, gorgeous. That’s why I’m here. To be sure you’re okay. I came to The Point and tried to talk to you the other day but,” he threw out a hand, “Jack wouldn’t let me.”
She still disliked that he called her gorgeous. It wasn’t his place anymore as he well knew.
And she didn’t like that smile. It did not say he wanted her to be okay. It said something else. She was sure of it.
“Well, I’m okay,” she assured him anyway.
“Good,” he muttered, his eyes moving to the sea, his body settling in like he did not, in fact, intend not to take long in what he had to say but as if he intended to stay awhile. “I assume, since you’re still here, you’re staying?” he asked the sea.
Belle didn’t much like this lead in.
“Miles, perhaps you should—” she started to advise him to talk about his brother’s future with his brother but he interrupted her again, his eyes cutting back to her.
“I promise, Belle, swear it’s with your best interests at heart when I advise you, if you can, to curtail Jack spending time with Yasmin.”
She felt her heart lurch and her shoulders get tight as his words hit her.
“I don’t think—” she began again only to be cut off again.
“They were lovers,” he informed her.
“I already know that.” She couldn’t quite keep the snap out of her voice though she also didn’t quite try.
“And she’s divorcing Quincy. She’ll be free again soon.”
Belle felt her eyebrows draw together at what he was implying.
“So you’re telling me Yasmin will make a play for Jack?” she asked in disbelief.
“No,” he answered. “I’m telling you that if Yasmin’s free, Jack will make a play for her. And Yasmin won’t make him work too hard. He’s who she’s always wanted, Belle, and I fear it’s the other way around for Jack too.”
She felt her blood begin to pound through her veins and for the first time in some time, the healing wound at her temple hurt.
Before she could say a word, Miles continued.
“They’ve known each other since we were very young. They have a connection that’s grown throughout those years. What they had was passionate. And it never really ended. On some level, you must know that since she’s still around and around all the time.”
“You’re beyond belief,” Belle whispered, the wind carrying away her words.
“I’m sorry?”
She scrambled angrily to her feet, Gretl scrambling with her and Baron got close as she dashed her hair behind her ears in a (failed) effort to control it and repeated loudly this time, “You’re beyond belief!”
Gretl woofed her agreement and Baron growled his warning as Miles got to his own feet.
“Belle, gorgeous, you know after what’s happened to you I wouldn’t tell you this unless I was looking out for you.”
Belle just could not believe this!
She leaned into him and reminded him on an irate cry, “I just lost a child!” She threw her hand out to indicate The Point and reminded him, “And it was your brother’s child. So, that means, your brother just lost his child too!”
“I know that,” he clipped.
“And, a month after that crushing blow, you think it’s in my best interests to deliver another one by coming to me and badmouthing your brother and our friend?” she queried heatedly.
He lifted a beseeching hand to her and urged, “Look around, Belle, it can’t have escaped your—”
“What hasn’t escaped me, Miles,” she interrupted him on a hiss, “is that Yasmin has been nothing but kind and gracious to me and Jack has never been anything but loving and gentle. Except, of course, after I let my own anxieties and your behavior muddle my head then proceeded in making what could have been the biggest mistake in my life. In fact, the only person who has anything to do with any of this who has treated me unkindly is,” she lifted a finger and pointed at him, “you.”
His face went hard and he crossed his arms on his chest. “How did you know about our conversation?”
His question confusing her, she leaned back and crossed her own arms on her chest, asking back, “What conversation?”
“Jack and my conversation. At Mum’s party. How did you know Jack said he wanted a crack at you?” Miles explained and Belle felt her own face get hard.
“He didn’t say that,” she returned.
“It doesn’t matter who said what. It matters how you knew. Jack thinks I told you and we both know I didn’t.”
“None of this matters now at all, Miles.”
“How did you know?” he pushed.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Did Yasmin tell you?”
“It doesn’t matter!” she cried and Gretl woofed again.
Miles stared at her then muttered, “She told you. And why do you think she told you, Belle?”
“She didn’t tell me,” Belle denied, shaking her head and in the heat of the moment admitted a moment of rudeness. “I overheard her and Joy talking.”
“And you think that wasn’t planned?” Miles sneered.
She felt her eyes grow round.
“You are,” she whispered. “You are beyond belief.”
Miles shook his own head. “Think about it, Belle. She was done with Quincy then and she wanted a free run at Jack. Or, more to the point, she wanted Jack to have a free run at her since she likes being chased. She saw how he reacted to you so she didn’t delay in making that so.”
Belle ignored the wind whipping her hair across her face and uncrossed her arms so she could plant her hands on her hips before she asked cuttingly, “You’re telling me that Yasmin finagled Joy into a hallway she would have no idea I was walking down at the precise time she could have no idea I was walking down it to orchestrate a conversation that would put me off Jack. Is that what you’re telling me, Miles?”
“You’re getting to know her,” Miles retorted. “She’s very clever.”
“Yes, she is. You know who isn’t?” she queried but didn’t pause for an answer although she did thrust a finger at him. “You!”
“Belle—”
Belle cut him off. “This is absurd, purposefully hurtful and I’m sorry to tell you, Miles, I’ll not keep it from Jack. What you’ve said to one woman he cares about, about another woman he cares about cannot stand. You’ll deal with him and, what’s worse, he’ll deal with you.”
On that, she bent, snatched up the rug and began to stomp past him but he caught her bicep, bringing her up short.
Goodness gracious, not this again.
She snapped her head back and hissed, “Take your hand off me.”
“Don’t be a fool, Belle. With the loss of that baby, your hold on him has slipped,” he clipped back, not having convinced her to believe any of his venom, he went in for the kill.
And she could not believe he did it or the way he did.
Therefore, with a vicious twist, she pulled her arm free, shouting, “Take your hand off me!”
She took one step away, he began to lunge toward her but stopped and both their heads whipped around when Jack’s voice cracked through the wind like a whip.
“Miles, right now, step the fuck back!”
Both Jack and Yasmin were coming their way, Jack’s face thunderous, his strides wide and Yasmin was racing on high heels on the uneven path to keep up, her face pale.
Belle just stared at Jack who she hadn’t expected to be home for at least another half an hour and who, as usual, was right there when she needed him.
She did this while her breath came fast and the rest of her attention focused on not screaming bloody murder.
“I arrived at the house ten minutes ago,” Yasmin called. “I saw Miles going to you. I called Jack right away but he told me he was nearly here,” she puffed. “Now, he’s, well,” she stopped next to Jack who stopped three feet away from Miles, eyes glued on his brother and she threw a hand out at Jack lamely before she finished, “here.”
“Belle, you and Yasmin go to the house,” Jack growled, his enraged eyes still on his brother.
Before either of them could move, Miles informed Jack, “Yasmin was the one to tell Belle that you wanted a crack at her,” and after he spoke this semi-lie, Belle watched Jack’s back shoot straight.
“I did not!” Yasmin cried.
Miles looked at Yasmin. “She overheard you talking to Mum in the hallway that morning.”
When he imparted this information, Yasmin’s eyes flew to Belle, light dawned, her face paled and she whispered, “Oh God, no.”
“It’s okay, Yasmin,” Belle stated swiftly then added truthfully. “It was rude for me to eavesdrop.”
Yasmin clearly wasn’t thinking about Belle being rude.
She sounded horrified when she replied, “I’m so sorry, Belle.” Her eyes moved to Jack. “And Jack, I had no idea—”
She didn’t finish.
Miles had looked back to Jack who never tore his gaze from his brother and spoke over her. “You thought it was me. It was not me. It was Yasmin.”
“And who told Yasmin it was me who wanted a crack at Belle when those words, Miles, came from your fucking mouth?” Jack asked, his voice low, rumbly and very, very angry.
Oh dear.
Belle needed to do something she just didn’t know how.
Or, in fact, what.
“Miles did, of course,” Yasmin whispered before Belle could figure it out.
“She misheard me,” Miles stated quickly.
“She did not,” Jack ground out. “You lied in an effort to cheat during a ridiculous, one-sided competition that I cannot fucking believe we’re still discussing months after the drama was over and only fucking weeks after the woman I love was shoved down the goddamned stairs and lost our child as a result.”
Miles’s torso swayed back and he whispered, “You love her?”
“Jesus, Miles, what do you think this is all about?” Jack asked, planting his hands on his hips.
“You love her,” Miles repeated in a whisper.
Jack didn’t get a chance to respond.
Unfortunately at this juncture, Joy was racing up, calling out, “What’s happening?”
“Belle, take Mum and Yasmin to the house,” Jack ordered, his eyes still locked on his brother.
“Please, no fighting,” Joy begged, arriving and immediately getting close to Jack so she could wrap her hands around his upper arm. “We were all getting along. Let’s not go back to fighting.” Her eyes moved to her younger son. “Please, Miles. Especially not now.”
“I didn’t come to fight,” Miles told his mother. “Because Belle is sensitive, I took the chance to incur Jack’s wrath in order to warn her, after what’s happened, to tread cautiously.”
Really, Belle thought in disgust, eyeing Miles, it was high time to stop being meek and mild if her sensitivity set her up for this type of kindness.
“We’ll finish this, once and for all, between you and me,” Jack clipped then again ordered, “Belle, take Mum and Yasmin back to the house.”
Belle thought this was a capital idea and started to move but Joy asked, “Tread cautiously with what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Miles answered. “She refuses to heed my warning.”
“What warning?” Joy pushed as Belle got close and grabbed her elbow, trying and failing to pull her away.
“It doesn’t matter,” Miles repeated, his eyes on his brother.
Belle froze when Yasmin stated softly, “You took me away from him. I participated but you did it and you did it purposefully. Now, you’re trying to take Belle from him too?”
“What’s this? What are you talking about? What’s going on?” Joy demanded, her hands giving Jack’s arm a shake.
“Belle, get Mum and Yasmin back . . . to . . . the house,” Jack growled.
Belle pulled gently at Joy’s elbow, she resisted and Yasmin ignored all of this and asked Miles, “Why would you do that? What could possess you?”
At this, Miles’s head turned slowly to Yasmin. “Possess me?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly. “I’ve known you both what feels like my whole life and Jack has never done anything to deserve this. So yes, when you behave like this, Miles, what possesses you?”
“He sees something, he takes it,” Miles replied and Yasmin shook her head.
“He didn’t take me. I gave myself to him. The same with Belle.”
“He sees something, he takes it, even if it doesn’t belong to him,” Miles went on stubbornly.
“This is fucking ridiculous. We’re talking about women, human fucking beings,” Jack muttered angrily and Miles’s gaze sliced to him.
“Three times, with three women, they were mine and you took them.”
At his words, Belle’s body got tight, she felt Joy’s get tight and she sensed Yasmin and Jack’s getting tight.
“Miles, Yasmin—” Jack started.
“I loved her,” Miles cut him off and Belle, Joy and Yasmin all gasped. “Before you took her, I loved her.”
“Oh my God,” Yasmin breathed.
“You should have—” Jack started again but Miles again didn’t let him finish.
“I didn’t have the time. You saw to that.”
“She wasn’t yours, Miles,” Jack said, his voice less angry. “Neither was Belle and you know it.”
“I don’t know it,” Miles replied.
“You know it, Miles, and there is no third,” Jack returned.
“There’s a third,” Miles retorted.
“Who?” Jack asked.
“There’s a third,” Miles repeated.
“Who?” Jack pushed.
To which, Miles suddenly and frighteningly leaned in and roared, “There’s a third!”
“Fucking hell, Miles, if I don’t know—” Jack began to clip but Miles cut him off.
“You know, you bastard, dig deep down into your goddamned soul and you’ll know precisely who she was and you’ll know she was the worst of all,” Miles bit out.
“Miles, darling, are you feeling quite all right?” Joy asked hesitantly and Miles looked to his mother, his eyes burning in a way that made Belle step back.
Joy saw it too. Belle knew this when she let Jack go and stepped back with Belle.
“No, Mum,” he whispered, his voice strange, sinister, frightening. “I’m not all right. I’ve never been all right and you,” he pulled in breath and seared her with the heat of his gaze, “you’ve always known it.”
And with that bizarre, scary parting shot, he stalked between Jack and Yasmin and strode toward the castle.
“Jack, I think you should go after him,” Joy whispered, her voice trembling and Jack stopped looking over his shoulder at his retreating brother and looked to his mother.
“I will.” His eyes moved to Belle. “Please, love, get them inside.”
Belle nodded.
Jack glanced briefly at Yasmin before he turned and strode after his brother. Baron went with Jack. Gretl stayed close to Belle.
“Let’s do what Jack asks and get inside,” Belle urged softly, hooking her arm through Joy’s elbow and marching her to Yasmin while adjusting the rug under her arm so she could do the same with her friend. Then she led them firmly toward the castle.
“A third,” Yasmin murmured as they walked, all their eyes on Jack and Miles who were now having what looked like a very unhappy conversation beside Miles’s car.
“Do you know what that was all about?” Joy asked Yasmin.
“Some of it,” Yasmin muttered in a way that said she wasn’t feeling like sharing.
Therefore Belle quickly intervened by suggesting, “Why don’t we go inside, open a nice bottle of wine and talk about it where we’re comfortable?”
“Good idea,” Yasmin agreed as they watched Miles jerk open his car door that Jack immediately slammed closed.
Oh dear.
Belle hastened their step. “And let’s do that quickly,” she murmured.
“Good idea,” Yasmin agreed.
All three women raced up the steps where Belle, with effort, tugged open the heavy door and ushered them in.
“Fuck you!” She heard Miles shout, leaning in, his face an inch from Jack’s granite one and she closed her eyes, sent him strength, and for him but also for Joy and Yasmin, with effort, she shoved the door closed.
After a not-so-calming glass of wine and after Lila, who stood vigil at the window, told Belle that Miles was gone and Jack had “prowled into the house” (her words), Belle gave him some time.
Now Belle stood outside Jack’s study door and sought courage.
He loved her. He’d told her. He’d moved her into his home. He’d moved her into his room. He’d shared his dogs with her. And after she lost their baby, he didn’t leave her side.
And she loved him.
She could do this.
She closed her eyes, opened them, lifted a hand and knocked on the door.
She got no answer and still got no answer after a repeated knock.
She stared at the closed door wondering what to do next.
And as she stared, it came to her.
Jack was beyond that door.
And he was hers.
For three and a half weeks after she lost their child, he didn’t leave her side (well, most of the time, he did have to work).
Now he needed her at his.
Therefore she put her hand to the knob, turned it, opened the door and stuck her head through.
Jack was standing in the bay window looking out.
“Jack?” she called quietly and his torso twisted, his eyes coming to her.
“Belle, anyone else, they knock, I don’t answer, they go away. You do not have to knock.”
Belle wet her lips, buried a smile and walked in, closing the door behind her.
Yes, he was hers.
This unbelievably, criminally attractive man was . . . all . . . hers.
Jack watched her do this and when the door was closed he ordered her to do what she was going to do anyway.
“Come here.”
She went there and when she arrived he turned fully to her, his hands coming to her waist then sliding around to hold her loosely. She lifted hers and rested them lightly on his chest, tipping her head back to look into his troubled, green eyes.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly even though she saw he was not.
“No,” he answered harshly, giving her the answer she expected.
She moved an inch closer and his arms around her tightened.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked back and she nodded. He sighed before muttering, “Then I’ll be okay.”
That was such a Jack answer. So much so it made her heart and her belly warm.
So Belle moved closer and his arms got tighter, drawing her against him and her hands pressed into his chest.
“I’m sorry you had to endure another scene with Miles,” she said gently.
“And I’m sorry he got to you which should not have happened,” Jack returned again being very Jack, thinking of her and not himself.
“I promise, I’m okay. He just made me angry, that’s all,” she assured him. “And, um, now, what he’s done is making me worry about you.”
Jack took in her words and sighed again before saying, “Don’t worry about me, poppet. You know this isn’t the first time. I’m used to it.”
That didn’t make her feel much better.
“That was . . . it was . . . it seemed different.” She hesitated then asked, “What exactly was that?”
Jack lifted a hand to cup her jaw, his thumb moving out to stroke her cheek and his voice was not harsh in the slightest when he replied, “You know, my love, that Yasmin and I were once together. What you don’t know was, during a fight when Yasmin had broken it off with me in a way she did not intend to be permanent, Miles sought her out, got her drunk and had sex with her.”
Belle gasped.
Jack nodded.
“I’m sorry to be blunt, poppet,” he muttered. “But that’s what happened. Yasmin admitted this to me, and not surprisingly we were then done in a way that was very much permanent.”
She could not believe this and yet she could. Miles had a knack for being a very big jerk, and Yasmin had a knack for messing up her life.
Still, she hated it that Jack seemed always caught in the middle.
So Belle pressed even closer and she did the only thing she could think to do.
She whispered a heartfelt, “I’m sorry.”
“I was then too,” he replied, and his thumb stroked her cheek again before his hand slid down to curl around the side of her neck. “Now, I’m not.”
Belle gave him a small smile and his eyes warmed when he saw it.
They grew intense and he continued, “I don’t know what he said to you but I can well imagine. And I want you to know that not only are Yasmin and I done, we have been for a long time. Our relationship has changed to something we both enjoy that would never shift again. And, my love, that wouldn’t have happened even before you. And although we have that history and it isn’t pleasant, now, with you in my life, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m sorry to say you imagined well, honey, but I didn’t believe him. Not even for a second. Not only because you’re you but also because Yasmin’s Yasmin,” Belle assured him. “I knew all that before you told me.”
“Good,” he murmured and Belle gave him a squeeze. “What I did not know,” Jack went on, his eyes losing focus and for the first time they drifted to her ear, “until today, was that he had feelings for her for some time prior to that.”
Yes, she got that was a surprise not just to Jack but to Yasmin as well.
“And the third woman?” Belle asked, Jack’s gaze came back to her and regained focus.
“I have no clue.”
“He didn’t share?”
“By the time we finished things, my brother was in no mood to share.”
Belle definitely caught that.
“So are things . . . finished?” she inquired carefully.
“Absolutely,” he stated firmly.
“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, pushing her hands down so she could slide them around and hold him tightly too. “I don’t have brothers or sisters so I don’t know how this feels but it can’t feel good.”
“No, poppet,” he muttered. “It doesn’t feel good.”
“I don’t know what to do to help,” she admitted and felt his arms give her a reflexive squeeze as his lips twitched.
“You’re doing it.”
Her head tilted to the side. “Just this?”
“Just this, Belle,” he replied gently.
“This is easy,” she told him. “I could do this for hours.”
To that, his lips curled up but his head came down and he touched his mouth to hers before he moved back half an inch and suggested, “That’s good then. So let’s do this for hours.”
Belle gave him another small smile but she shared, “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
His head moved back another inch. “And why’s that?”
“Well, first, Dad’s done with dinner. You’ll be pleased to know there was no open flame and he didn’t have time to make homemade barbeque sauce. They also didn’t have peppers that will burn out your throat, so chili was out. In the end he made meatloaf, which doesn’t sound all that great but his is really delicious. And he also made apple pie which is definitely delicious.”
“Right,” Jack said. “That’s first, what’s next?”
Belle pressed even closer. “Well, yesterday, I told you all about my life. Tonight, you need to get started telling me all of yours. After dinner, of course.”
Jack’s arms gave her a squeeze and he reminded her, “I’ve lived longer than you, poppet. Yours took an entire day. I’ll need more than an evening.”
“It can be continued and you can tell me more tomorrow.”
He grinned.
“And the next day,” she went on.
His grin got bigger.
Belle pressed closer and got up on her toes. “And the next.”
“That’s a plan,” Jack whispered.
“Good,” Belle whispered back.
“Dude! Baby girl! What the fuck! You want it to get cold?” Belle’s dad could be heard shouting. “Haul ass into the dining room. You got two minutes or we’re starting without you.”
To this, Jack asked bizarrely, “Is it Sunday yet?”
Belle’s head tilted again and she told him what he had to know. “No, why?”
“Because Saturday night we’re leaving all these mad people to their madness, we’re taking the dogs, we’re going to your cottage and we’re not coming back until Monday.”
“Now that,” Belle breathed, “sounds like a plan.”
“Count on it,” Jack muttered, his eyes dropping to her mouth, his head descending toward hers.
She felt a trill race up to her scalp but still she whispered, “Jack, honey, the food will get cold.”
“Let it,” Jack murmured against her mouth before he took it in a sweet, deep, long, wet, delicious kiss.
They didn’t get to the dinner table in two minutes. It was more like five.
But they walked in hand in hand and they did it after Belle had managed to make Jack feel better.
She sat down to dinner at Jack’s side feeling like she’d just moved a mountain and she was proud of it.
And, even a little late, the food still tasted great.
Calvin
Calvin Cole aimed one, last, vicious kick into his prone wife’s belly and watched her body jerk on the floor.
Then he bent over her and, ignoring her spitting blood into the carpet in front of her face and wheezing, he got close to her face and hissed, “Now get your ass up and unpack. You leave when I say I’m done with you. Not before.”
Her eyes looking to the carpet that the side of her face was resting on, she slowly nodded, and he also ignored her wince of pain that this subtle movement caused.
He jerked upright and looked at the bags on the bed.
The bitch saw the article. The bitch heard shit at work. The bitch came home early and thought to leave him.
What the bitch didn’t know was that he took shit at work that day too. Including his supervisor telling him they were going to have a meeting at the end of the week and that he felt it was best if Calvin didn’t come into the office until the meeting.
Calvin knew what that meant.
Fuck.
He looked back down at his wife who hadn’t moved and informed her casually, “You know, if I hadn’t kicked Belle’s ass out, I’d be married to a national fucking hero instead of fucking you.”
After he delivered that, he heard the bell at the door go and he left her, stomping to the door.
Unable to move because every time she tried the pain wracked through her body so intensely she had to fight against going unconscious, his wife listened from her place on the floor to the murmuring of voices.
The murmurs went on for some time. Then her husband’s voice got louder. Then angrier. Then louder and livid.
Finally she heard different noises, muffled grunts, muffled groans of extreme pain.
Calvin’s groans.
She couldn’t move to get to the phone to call 999 or go to her husband and help him.
She couldn’t move but still . . .
Even if she could, she wouldn’t.