Cullen's Bride (23 page)
Authors: Fiona Brand
Cullen reappeared in the doorway, his eyes locating her immediately The sound level dropped to nothing. Cullen's gaze narrowed at the silence, grey eyes flaring to hot metal as he prowled the gathering with the smooth shift and glide of a big hunting cat, cutting a path straight to Rachel.
He'd changed out of his wet clothes, but he was still dressed in black, black pants and a black crew neck sweater that was so thin it clung to his chest, emphasising the muscular power of his build. He suddenly looked like exactly what he was, an Ice-cool, highly trained and disciplined special forces soldier. Too many people had been content to judge Cullen on outward appearance alone, and now they were getting a firsthand taste of the real man And if the outlaw had been wild and untamed, the warrior was infinitely more dangerous Heat and vitality and danger throbbed from him. He made every other man in the room look pale and lifeless.
Cullen's single-minded focus as he strode toward Rachel sent bittersweet emotion twisting through her. He was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world, and she was his. No one here could be in any doubt that she was Cullen's woman. Cullen's bride.
He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You all right, babe?” His gaze roved over her, checking for any signs of stress or pain.
Rachel didn't even try to stop the giddy rush of pleasure that just having him near started. Her fingers twined with his, soaking in his touch. “I am now.”
He smiled a gentle, sinfully sweet smile; then he looked up and over her shoulder, and all the warmth leached from his expression as he took in each and every person in the room in one slow, sweeping glance. His gaze stopped, locking on Richard Hayward. He smiled again. Unlike the smile he'd shared with her, this was a warrior's smile, radiating disdain and a lethal confidence. The kind of expression that made men shuffle back a step and start looking for the way out.
Richard Hayward was the first to the door.
“I wouldn't leave just yet,” Cullen warned softly.
Hayward whipped around. Suddenly he didn't look elegant or handsome at allâhe just looked scared.
“According to my calculations,” Cullen continued in his low, rough-silk voice, “right about now you should be apologising to my wife.”
Hayward's adam's apple made a run for his throat, then dropped back down, disappointed. “Sorry,” he croaked.
“Sorry...?” Cullen relinquished Rachel's hand, suppressing his regret at not being able to prolong that small, sweet contact for longer. But right now he had to put everything he wanted aside The strategies in the campaign waged against him had always been dirty, but now that Rachel had been included on the list of casualties, the rules of engagement had just gone wild. Cullen wasn't planning on taking any prisoners.
He strode close enough to Hayward that he was invading the man's personal space. His hand went flat against the partially opened door, easing it closed behind Hayward with a gentleness that was subtly threatening.
Hayward's throat convulsed again, his eyes darting Rachel's way. “I'm sorry if I offended you. I'm sorry I mentioned anything about Ian Logan's death.”
“Ah, yes,” Cullen murmured. “My father's untimely death. Not many people in this town turned up for the funeral, and I can't say I blame them. He made a lot of enemies Some of you might even say I was one of them. Only problem is, I know damn well I wasn't the one who provided him with a bottle of whiskey that was more expensive than the brand he usually drank, then knocked him out and left him on the side of the road He may have stumbled into that ditch all on his own, and the cause of death may have officially been drowning, but the son of a bitch had help. If you don't tell them, Hayward, I know someone who will ”
Cullen gambled on a woman's hurt eyes and the inner lacerations they revealed. Lacerations that were more damaging than the outward, physical ones his father had enjoyed inflicting, but had the dubious advantage of not showing on her sleek, expensive hide. “Tell them, Caroline.”
Caroline had just sidled into the room, a bandage around her finger. A flush ran along her cheekbones. She looked guilty and scared, and Cullen regretted having to use her. But there was no one else, no other choice. He had to put a stop to these “accidents” before someone got killed. And maybe, if she faced up to what was being done to her, she would make some changes in her life that were long overdue.
When she didn't answer, Cullen ran another slow glance around the room. “Someone tampered with the steering on my truck. When Rachel and I were driving here tonight, both tie rods sheared through. We could have been killed. Tell them, Caroline.”
Hayward shifted uneasily. “I didn't have anything to do with that”
“No,” Cullen agreed evenly. “The hands-on stuff isn't your style. Dan Holt should be talking to the prime suspect right about now, and knowing how ticked off Dan is with all the paperwork this particular person has caused him lately, I'd be willing to bet he'll lean on him. Hard. I don't imagine it'll take Trask long to figure his odds. With the assault charges his wife's brought against him, the firearms and arson charges he's facing, he doesn't have a lot of leewayâhe'll pull time anyway. But then, you should know. Trask is one of your clients.”
“Cullen didn't kill his father.”
The words were quietly spoken. They dropped into the tense silence like stones hitting the surface of a deep pool, then sinking all the way to the bottom. Caroline wrapped her arms around her middle and stared at the floor. “Someone hit Ian Logan, but it wasn't Cullen.”
“Who was it, Caroline?” Cullen asked gently.
“Carolineâ” Hayward said on a low, warning note.
“No.
” She cut him off, face twisting. “Richard hired his thug, Frank Trask, to do that particular job!”
” She cut him off, face twisting. “Richard hired his thug, Frank Trask, to do that particular job!”
There was an angry murmur from several people. Cole muttered a curt promise that, if he ever managed to carry it out, would keep him in prison through this life and the next, and would put paid to any future generations of Haywards.
Hayward took a step forward, jaw tight, mouth a thin line
“I wouldn't,” Cullen said casually.
Hayward did as he was told.
But then he did something that made Cullen's skin crawl. Hayward stared flatly, intently, at Caroline, his eyes brimming with cold promise.
A flicker of pure rage started deep inside Cullen, and suddenly he was eighteen again and facing his father. The series of harsh, frozen images from fifteen years ago jolted through his mind. The farmhouse kitchen. His father standing casually with a bottle in his hand. The bottle coming at Cullen's face. A moment of spinning, cascading colour when the blow connected. Then the explosion of years of anger and fear, culminating in a moment of surging triumph as he hit his father. Became his father
Cullen shook his head, trying to clear the old ugliness, the tight, building rage coiling in his gut. He hadn't realised what he would be walking into when he'd gone after Hayward; he'd only considered the safety of Rachel and the baby. He'd never stopped to think about how close this situation could come to duplicating his worst nightmare.
A familiar scent filled his nostrils, flowers and freshness, and the subtle earthy warmth of woman Rachel She touched him, sliding her hand over one bunched fist, stroking his fingers. Cullen's breath sifted between clenched teeth. Some of the tension drained from him. He heard her shaky sigh, felt her warmth all down his side, then she laced her fingers with his.
As quickly as that, Hayward ceased to be importantâalthough Cullen couldn't dismiss his fury entirely, because Rachel's safety was at stake. Now Cullen needed to touch her, to pull her close and reassure himself that she was all right. He'd let Cole care for her after the accident only because Cullen had needed to brief Dan and ensure that no one tampered with the sabotaged tie rods before Dan had a chance to examine them Cullen didn't give a damn that the room was crowded with interested spectators; he centered on Rachel, drinking in her dark, level gaze, her vulnerability. The fear.
He'd frightened her. Cold washed through him, dousing the last hot flickers of fury. She'd finally seen who,
what,
he was And Cullen knew that if Rachel hadn't touched him at that moment, if she hadn't dissipated the anger welling deep inside him, he would almost certainly have lost control He would have hit Hayward and enjoyed doing it. And with the knowledge he now had, the physical power he possessed...
what,
he was And Cullen knew that if Rachel hadn't touched him at that moment, if she hadn't dissipated the anger welling deep inside him, he would almost certainly have lost control He would have hit Hayward and enjoyed doing it. And with the knowledge he now had, the physical power he possessed...
Rachel's hand tightened. Cullen returned the pressure, but gently, gently. A soft touch on his arm had him staring into Caroline Hayward's ravaged eyes.
“I never did thank you,” she said softly, holding up her bandaged finger and almost succeeding with a rueful smile. “That's twice you've had to patch me up ” She turned to face her husband. only feet separating them, and when she spoke, she lifted her voice so that while it was still soft and husky. the whole room could hear. “Fifteen years ago Richard was having an affair.”
Hayward uttered a harsh phrase.
Caroline flinched, but went on. “We'd only been married for a short time, but it wasn't the first affair, and it certainly wasn't the last I decided to have one, tooâwith the biggest, baddest wolf I could find Ian Logan. I wanted to punish Richard and ended up punishing myself instead. Things...went badly wrong It all got out of control, but Cullen got me out of there.”
She stopped, took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, I couldn't hide the mark on my face. Richard found out everything and arranged for Ian to...run into a door. After conveniently getting him drunk, of course. Ian wasn't supposed to die. When he was found the next morning, Richard panickedâhe couldn't afford to be implicated in a murder investigation. The fact that Cullen just happened to be back in town and raising hell was..convenient. Any hint of scandal would have ruined Richard's business, and his old man wouldn't have stood for it. Irvin Hayward would have kicked Richard's butt so hard he'd still be travelling. The old man had already threatened to sell the business if Richard kept up his womanising.” She laughed unevenly and sent her husband a bitter look. “Which of course he did.”
“Shut up, damn you,” Hayward snarled beneath his breath.
“No,” Caroline snapped. “I've stayed quiet long enough. Ever since Cullen's been back in Riverbend, Richard's been sweating up a storm, worrying that Cullen would find out what really happened. When Cullen got involved with the Trasks, Richard freaked out. He's been trying for months to get rid of Cullen, one way or another.”
“You can't prove anything,” Hayward said tightly. He glanced around, searching for support “She's drunk. She's been drinking since three o'clock this afternoon. I'm surprised she can string a sentence together ”
“Caroline looks just fine to me,” a low-pitched feminine voice observed. Janet Hanson appeared beside Caroline. “That was my homemade lemonade on the floor, Hayward. You got some problem with your wife drinking lemonade?”
The breath hissed between Hayward's teeth. His cold glance sliced around the room, which just happened to be filled with some of the wealthiest, most powerful landowners in the district, along with a large percentage of businesspeople. Most of whom wereâor, Cullen reflected with grim satisfaction, had beenâhis clients. With a last stabbing glance at his wife, Hayward wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him.
There was a moment of stunned silence while they listened to Hayward's receding footsteps, the eerie howl of the wind, the drumming rain, then the faint sound of a car being gunned too fast down the Hansons' drive.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say,” someone sniffed.
Isobel Reese rose imperiously from the sofa. “Eleanor, get Caroline another drink,” she commanded. “Then bring her over here before she falls down. And you, Cullen Logan. Take that little wife of yours home. She's carrying that babe awfully low.”
Cullen met Isobel's fierce glare, saw the coins of colour burning high on her cheeks and remembered that Hayward was her nephew. Then Isobel's words sank in, and he fixed his attention on Rachel.
She did look tired. And the baby
was
lowâwhatever that meant. He broke out in a panicked sweat at the most obvious answer. Damn. She kept rubbing her back, too. It was too earlyâthree weeks too early for her to be having the baby. She wasn't ready to have the baby.
was
lowâwhatever that meant. He broke out in a panicked sweat at the most obvious answer. Damn. She kept rubbing her back, too. It was too earlyâthree weeks too early for her to be having the baby. She wasn't ready to have the baby.
And Cullen wasn't ready to let her go.
“I'm taking you home,” he growled next to her ear.
Without giving Rachel time to object, he slipped his arm around her waist and guided her through rapidly recovering groups of people, evading most of the well-wishing, the concern for Rachel's advanced pregnancy, and the increasing numbers of determined women who'd rallied around Caroline
Cole intercepted them as they reached the hallway. “Good. You're taking her home.”
Rachel stirred indignantly.
Cullen forestalled her protest with a gentle squeeze that pulled her more firmly against his side. “We've both had about all the excitement we can handle for one night.”
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