Third Time's a Charm

“Once she goes back to sleep, I’ll take you to the spring and you can get your samples,” she said quietly as Ivy’s lids drooped.



He blinked, unsure if he was hearing her correctly. “You’re still going to help me?”



She placed the baby in the crib. “I said I would.”



“Rose, I…” he began and tried to grab her arm as she walked by him.



She jerked back. “Don’t.”



He let his hand fall to his side. The need to apologize was overwhelming, but he couldn’t make his mouth and tongue form the words. Finally, he said, “Wait until tomorrow to take me to the springs. After the ball, we’ll—”



“No, we’ll go now and then you’ll get the hell out of my house.” She left him standing in the middle of Ivy’s room.



***



The door shut behind them and it took a minute for Rose’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. She shivered, wishing she’d put on a coat. “You’ll need to watch your head.”



Automatically, she turned on the flashlight and began to walk down the corridor made of earth and oak timbers that shored up the sides and ceiling. Normally, she made this trek alone. Normally, her heart wasn’t broken. Normally…Nothing was ever normal for her.



She could feel Sasha’s presence behind her as they walked. The slight scuffle of his shoes echoed in turn with hers.



“Who built this?”



“Need it for your official report?”



“Dammit, Rose. I’m trying to make conversation so I won’t go mental in here.”



He sounded so sincere that she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you afraid of the dark or closed-in spaces?”



“Does it matter?” he snapped.



Irritated, she stopped suddenly. He rammed into her and sent her to her knees, the firmly packed dirt floor unforgiving. “Ow!” The flashlight flew out of her hand and landed on the floor with a thud, shining a long beam of light in the direction they needed to go.



Sasha swore, his hands patting her head and shoulders before he yanked her up and pressed her close.



“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice harsh.



She closed her eyes in the near darkness and breathed in his male scent, wanting to weep at the false sense of comfort his body gave her. At the way his strong arms wrapped around her and made her think that he’d cared for her. But it had all been a lie. He couldn’t even tell her the truth without lying to her.



“You lied to me. I bet you weren’t ever going to tell me either,” she said, the material of his shirt soft against her cheek.



He exhaled, his muscular chest falling. “Rose, I—”



“Let me go,” she whispered as she heard his heart begin to sprint.



“I can’t.”



Her heart began beating furiously. “Why not?”



“Because I was trapped in mangled steel for ten hours and had to be cut out of my parents’ car. Confined spaces are not—” his voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat even as hers thickened in disappointment. “—let’s start moving again before I do something quite ridiculous.”



As soon as his hands fell away, she stepped back and turned around, striding to the flashlight. She wasn’t falling for his routine. No matter how sincerely anxious he sounded. But she stopped and waited for him to catch up anyway.



“Idiot,” she muttered. She should have left him to curl up in a ball in the middle of the tunnel. However, being cruel had never been in her nature.



“I hear water,” he said and her sweater grew tight against her breasts. He had to be holding on to it. “Does this mean we’re close?”



Unable to stop herself, she reached back and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Almost there.”



“Thank you,” he said softly.



Ducking under a particularly low formation of rock, she entered the main room, then turned right and pressed an old-fashioned light switch. Several bulbs connected by a series of cords glowed brightly, chasing away the shadows.



Behind her, Sasha took a deep breath and let go of her sweater. “It’s smaller than I expected.” He brushed past her, carrying a box the size of a large cosmetics case in his left hand. He skirted the edge of the spring, then turned to her. “How deep is it?”



Rose hit her collar bone with the edge of her hand. “Here, but you have to be careful on the left side. There’s a sudden drop-off and you can feel it sucking at your feet like a drain.” She joined him and stared at the deceptively calm water. “Whatever gets pulled down shows up at the legendary spring. If I know a couple will be there on a certain day and time, I send flowers to them.”



“What about the temperature?”



Shrugging, she said, “Not everything can be explained away.”



He grunted. “The herbs?”



“That I can explain.” She pointed to an over-sized chest in the corner. “It’s a mixture I add three times a week. One that’s been passed down from generation to generation. Hollands have been adding herbs to the springs for over two hundred and fifty years. Supposedly, the mixture can cure everything from toothaches to burns. But not broken hearts, and it can’t make anyone fall in love. Or tell the truth.” Clamping her mouth shut to keep from rambling even more, she turned to face him. He looked resigned. Soon he’d be free. To go wherever he wanted. See whoever he wanted. A little pinch in her heart made her rub the vee-neck of her sweater.



Sasha’s perfect lips parted, and the hand at his side clenched into a fist as he took a step closer to her. All that separated them was the box he held in his other hand. “I never meant to hurt you.”



But he had anyway. Over and over. She stepped back and ignored his quasi-apology. “Ready to get this over with?” she managed to ask with a completely straight face.



“Absolutely.” The smooth line of his jaw clenched and he knelt on the floor, setting the box down and opening it. He pulled out four empty vials and scooped up some water. “I’ll need some time to find out what I can add to this that will seem like a natural impurity.”



“Why bother?”



“I don’t want him to win.”



She didn’t need to ask who “him” was. Shifting her stance, she clicked the flashlight’s on/off button a couple of times as he capped each one off. “Was I payback? A big you-can’t-tell me-what-to-do experiment?”



“No.” He didn’t elaborate and she refused to ask him anything else. After storing the vials and closing the box, he stood and held out his hand. “Shall we?”



Rose swallowed, remembering his hands on her body last night, this morning. His fingers teasing and making her cry out in pleasure. His palms gliding over her back and pulling her closer. Holding her, making her feel safe and wanted.



That was all it had been—a feeling. Fleeting and bruising her poor heart more than she’d ever imagined.



Sighing, she took his hand and they began the dark trek back to the house.



Chapter Eighteen



Sasha stood at the front door, wishing Rose would give him a proper send off. Hell, he didn’t care if it involved a knife or a rock. The need to see her alone ate at him, but Skye had shown up fifteen minutes after they’d emerged from the tunnel. He knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t get another chance.



And as if God was in a really good mood, or out to let the Devil torture him, Rose appeared at the top of the grand staircase and his heart turned over.



“Leave your house key on the table, and I’ll get the remainder of your rent back to you on Monday,” she said, staring right through him it seemed.



“Keep it.”



An elegant brow arched. “For services rendered?”



His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Quit thinking of yourself like that. You’re not Poppy Holland for Christ’s sake. You have a choice and—” She whirled away from him and disappeared down the hall. “Rose, come back.” He strode to the stairs and put one foot on the bottom step, poised to chase after her. But self-preservation, male ego or whatever he wanted to call it stopped him from making a complete arse of himself.



Blackbeard meowed as he crept into the foyer and threaded through Sasha’s legs.



“This is goodbye, you mangy cur.” Sasha knelt and stroked the feline’s back, making the cat purr. “Can’t say I’ve enjoyed sharing a bed with you.”



Straightening, Sasha gave a last hard look up the stairs, turned on his heel and walked out of the house. He got in his car, not really paying attention to his destination. Before he knew it, he was putting the Mercedes in park at his cousin’s house.



The cheery home with its white picket fence and carefully tended flowerbeds were the exact opposite of Strawberry Grove. No shutters threatened to fall on his head. The porch steps didn’t creak as he jogged up them and when the door swung open, there was a person responsible for it. It was utter rubbish that he wished to be back there.



“Sasha,” Christian said with a scowl.



“Why are you never happy to see me? After all I’ve done—the late nights, the research, encouraging global debauchery.” Sasha frowned at his cousin’s choice of graphic T-shirt and dark jeans. “Is she dressing you now?”



“She’s asleep, and I’ll thank you not to wake her.” Christian crossed muscular arms over his chest and adjusted his stance to block Sasha from entering.



Sasha raised a brow and looked down his nose at him, no easy feat considering they were about the same height. “I’m not welcome?”



“No.”



Inwardly Sasha cringed. He’d hoped by the time Christian and his wife had returned from their honeymoon, that he’d be forgiven. Apparently, he’d hoped for too much. “Care to elaborate?”



“Not really.”



Sasha rolled his eyes and fiddled with his keys. “Not good with the big words, eh?”



Uncrossing his arms, Christian leaned back and closed the door behind him. “As much as you’re like a brother to me, I can’t have you in my life anymore. You don’t work for me. Hell, I don’t need a personal assistant anymore because of all the things you did for me.”



“You’re welcome.”



“For what?”



“Saving your ass.” There had been a time in Christian’s life when he’d not made the best of choices. Sasha had been at the right place at the right time and had gotten his cousin out of a very bad situation. But years later, thanks to the internet’s love of all things viral, it had come back to bite Christian, costing him his career and nearly making him give up the one thing he loved the most.



Christian blinked and rubbed his jaw. “That you did, but I’ll not have you spying for Vladimir. He can speculate on my personal life like everyone else—by Googling me.”



“I’m not here to spy on you.” But he was and the look on Christian’s face damned him for a liar.



“Then what are you here for—murder, mayhem or a general fuck all someone’s life for the greater evil?”



“Will there be a quiz on this later?” Sasha drawled. He hadn’t committed murder, but the other two he’d been acquainted with for years. Though what he’d done to Rose should have him sentenced to life imprisonment.



Christian raked a hand through his hair. “For once in your life, Alexander, be serious.”



“Do you think I like this sorry excuse of existence I call my life? I have to be what I am. Unlike you, I have no choice. There’s no telling Vladimir to shove off while I ride into the sunset with the woman I love. I’m not fucking allowed. So take your serious comment and bugger it.” Sasha clenched his fists, wanting to punch something or someone. Himself, mostly.



“Who is she?” Christian asked, his light eyes probing.



A woman with beautiful blue eyes and a caring soul. A woman whose rare smiles made him feel victorious when she gifted him with one. A woman who made his heart sprint by only thinking of her. A woman he helped destroy. His shoulders threatened to sag. “There is no she.”



“Liar.” A slight smile played on his cousin’s face.



“Coming to my party?” Sasha asked, steering the conversation back into the safe zone.



“Wouldn’t miss it.” This time Christian’s lips broke out in a full smile. “Still trying to figure out the angle you’re working.”



“No worries, mate. My angle’s all worked out. The benefit is exactly what it seems to be and I’ll be leaving next Wednesday.” But not before he found a way to help Rose, whether she wanted it or not.



***



Rose unloaded the last empty box from the back of her Jeep and took it in the house. The task of sorting what was precious to her was overwhelming. How was she supposed to decide what should go and what should stay? She had three days to pack and only Skye to help.



“At least we have the apartment over the store,” Skye took the box from Rose. “You can stay there until everything gets sorted out.”



“No, it’s been rented out. Can Ivy and I come stay with you? I checked on the cottage, but it’s in bad shape and I won’t get any money from Barbara’s Bugs until they receive their first shipment. I mailed it out when I went to town to get these boxes from storage.” Rose glanced at Ivy. The baby played on a large quilt in the middle of the foyer, the stuffed rabbit clutched in her hand with Blackbeard close by.



Skye’s face fell. “God, I wish y’all could, but I have four roommates and I can’t kick them out. The lease is in Bailey’s name.”