Emily and the Stranger (25 page)

He had tried to convince her that he found her completely beautiful, despite the hideous scars on her back. He had kissed and caressed those scars without showing any signs of revulsion. Had he looked at her disfigured flesh and felt responsible? Of course he had. Mitch Hayden was an honorable man. Time and circumstances had matured him into the man Emily loved.

It would be so easy to accept what he was offering, and she had no doubt that he would offer her whatever her heart desired. If she wanted him to marry her, he would. If she wanted him to father her children, he would. Hadn't he told her that he'd do anything for her, even die for her?

Swinging open the back door, Emily walked out onto the porch. Turning around when she approached, Mitch reached out, tugged on her hands and pulled her up against him. She laid her head on his naked chest, her nose tickled by his hair. She smelled the unique aroma that was Mitch, and also the undeniable scent of her own body embedded in his skin.

He threaded his fingers through the long, tangled mane of her dark hair. "Sleep well?"

"Yes. Did you?" Tilting her head, she looked up at him.

"I can't remember the last time I slept so soundly." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"I'm afraid I can't offer you breakfast, unless you want some cereal," she said. "I suppose the milk in the refrigerator is still good."

"I have a better idea. Go get dressed, pack a bag and come stay at my place. I'll fix you breakfast. I can whip up a mean batch of scrambled eggs and toast, or I can make my famous western omelette."

Easing a few inches away from him, but allowing him to keep his arms around her, Emily laid her hand on his chest. "You want me to stay with you? Move over to your cottage?"

Mitch caressed her arms from shoulders to wrists, then took her hands into his, holding them securely between their bodies. "It's the perfect solution for both of us."

"How's that?" she asked.

"I'm not going to let you be alone for one minute until we find out who's behind the break-ins and the threats," he said. "I could stay here with you, but right now you don't have any power, and no phone, and the glass panes in your back door are broken."

"So you're inviting me to stay with you until my power and phone are restored and my back door is repaired because you're determined to play bodyguard?"

"I want to be more than your bodyguard, pretty lady." He lifted her arms and placed them around his neck.

Emily's stomach flip-flopped. "What do you want to be?"

"Your bodyguard, your friend, but most of all, I want to be your lover. Tonight. Tomorrow night. All the nights for the rest—"

Leaving one hand around his neck, she reached out and covered his lips with the tip of her index finger. "I'll go get dressed and pack enough for tonight. I won't argue with you, Mitch. I need you. But, when this business about the break-ins and the threats is over, you and I have some important things to settle between us."

"I thought we did that last night." He kissed her finger that hovered over his lips.

"Last night was special. I'll never forget it."

"Hey, you make it sound as if it'll never happen again, and I'm here to tell you that—" he jerked her back into his arms, pressing her against his aroused body "—last night was just the beginning for us."

Twenty minutes later after phoning Nikki to tell her about the break-in last night and that she'd be late for work, Emily stood at the kitchen counter in Mitch's beachfront cottage. She'd convinced Mitch to leave the cooking to her. Deftly mixing together the ingredients for pancakes, she began preparations for their breakfast while Mitch showered and shaved.

She wasn't a fool. She knew only too well that she and Mitch didn't have a future together. But she also knew that by allowing Mitch to stay in her life, now, when she truly needed someone for support and caring and protection, she could help ease his guilty conscience. He so desperately wanted to do something for her. This way, he could.

Once the police caught the person responsible for the break-ins, she and Mitch would have to face the truth about their relationship.

The ringing phone jarred Emily from her private thoughts. Leaving the wooden spoon resting in the pancake batter, she wiped her hands off on the dishcloth she'd laid over her shoulder and reached out for the wall phone near the back door.

"Hello."

"I knew it! I told myself you weren't foolish enough to trust that man, but there you are at his house," the agitated masculine voice said. "You could have called me yourself and told me what happened instead of having Nikki call. But then, I suppose you knew how upset I'd be. When Nikki told me that you were staying with Mitchell Hayden, I couldn't believe it. Emily, have you lost your mind?"

"Good morning to you, Uncle Fowler. And yes, I'm just fine. Thanks for asking."

"Don't be sarcastic with me, young lady. I don't think this situation is at all amusing. I find it terribly disturbing!"

"I agree, Uncle Fowler. Those two hoodlums who broke into my house last night disturbed me. As a matter of fact, they scared the living daylights out of me!"

Fowler cleared his throat several times. "Well, yes, I suppose they did, and I'm so very sorry that you had to go through that, my dear. But the facts remain the same. Mitchell Hayden cannot be trusted, and I believe you're being unwise to stay with him when you could come home to me. Or you could stay with Nikki. That man will only hurt you again."

"Uncle Fowler, I wish I could make you understand how I feel about Mitch and why I trust him." Emily paused when she heard Fowler's groaning huff. "He rescued me from those boys who broke into my house. He doesn't want to hurt me. Don't you see? He saved me."

"He could have hired those boys just so he could play hero," Fowler said. "I warn you, Emily, don't trust the man!"

"What's happened to change you so? Up until recently, you've been my biggest supporter. You've always believed in me and encouraged me—"

"You're the one who has changed—since you became infatuated with your husband's murderer!" Fowler's voice trembled with emotion.

Emily clutched the phone with white-knuckled tension. Willing herself to stay calm, she took a deep breath. "Mitch didn't kill Stuart. He made some mistakes. He believed in the wrong people. But Mitch has paid dearly for what happened."

"I can't believe I'm hearing you correctly. What sort of spell has that man cast on you?" Fowler asked.

"As long as you're being this unreasonable, I'm not going to discuss Mitch Hayden with you."

"Don't you realize that I have your best interest at heart? I can't bear the thought of your wasting yourself on a man like that. The man is using you to regain respectability. If Stuart's widow can forgive him, then—"

"Please, don't do this to me. You know how much you mean to me. Don't make me choose between you and Mitch."

Mitch, freshly shaved and showered and neatly dressed in clean jeans and cotton shirt, walked into the kitchen. He halted behind Emily when he realized she was on the phone.

"He really has you fooled, doesn't he?" Fowler's voice rose to one octave below a scream. "Whatever's happened to make you trust this man so? My God, Emily, you haven't slept with him, have you?"

"That's none of your business."

"You have!" Fowler said, his voice loud enough to hurt Emily's ears. "He's brainwashed you. I beg you not to trust that man. Run from him. Get away, before he harms you. Please, let me come and get you. Let me take care of you. Keep you safe."

Emily shook her head, not knowing whether to feel sorry for her uncle or to be angry with him. "Nothing you say or do is going to convince me that Mitch is a threat to my safety."

Mitch reached around her and grabbed the phone out of her hand. Gasping, Emily jumped out of the way and stared at him with round eyes, startled by his actions.

"
Jordan
, this is Mitch Hayden. I just thought you should know that if anyone wants to get to Emily, they'll have to come through me first."

Mitch slammed down the telephone receiver, then turned to Emily. "Want me to help you with the pancakes?"

"What?"

"Pancakes. Breakfast. Remember, you didn't want scrambled eggs or an omelette."

"Oh. Right." Mitch's words to her uncle kept ringing in her ears. Over and over again she heard him saying.
To get to Emily, they'll have to come through me first.
"You—you get the coffee ready. I'll make the pancakes."

He kissed her on the cheek, then swatted her on the behind. She gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time. When he smiled at her, her heartbeat accelerated. She smiled back at him.

* * *

"So the police don't have a clue who hired those boys to break into your house, huh?" Handing Emily a glass of iced tea, Nikki Griffin sat down beside her on the tan-and-blue striped sofa.

"Not a clue." Emily sighed. "But I … well, there's something that I haven't told anyone. Not the police. Not even Mitch."

Nikki sipped on her tea, then set her glass on the cocktail table in front of her. "What's going on? Why are you keeping secrets from the police?"

"It may be nothing. Really. Just a silly suspicion."

"So tell me!"

Emily scooted to the edge of her seat, moving closer, then glanced around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.

"Last evening, I had a date with Charles, and when he brought me home, I told him that I wasn't going to see him again, that I'd made a mistake leading him on."

Nikki whistled long and low. "I'll bet he wasn't pleased to hear that."

"He asked me if I was in love with Mitch and I told him that it was none of his business."

"I see. You're wondering if Charles is behind the letters and phone calls and break-ins, aren't you?"

"Isn't he the one with the most reason to want Mitch out of the way? Charles wants me to marry him. I think he loves me, in his own way, but part of wanting to be my husband is his desire to please Uncle Fowler and move into Stuart's place as the
Jordan
heir."

"But Charles thought he was getting somewhere with you," Nikki said. "Why would he have hired those boys days ago to break into your house again last night?"

"I'm not sure, but I think Charles sensed that things weren't right between us, that I still had feelings for Mitch. Maybe he hired those boys hoping I'd turn to him for help and stay away from Mitch."

"Anyone could have hired those young thugs." Nikki reached out and took Emily's hands into hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You said both of them are only seventeen and the police told you they're the kind of kids who are always in trouble, the kind who'd do just about anything for money.

"I know I've thought Charles was the bad guy in all this, but I'm not one hundred percent sure anymore."

"Do you suspect someone else?" Emily asked.

"Rod Simmons has been acting strange lately. Strange even for an artistic, moody, intellectual guy like him." Nikki released Emily's hands. "I can't explain how I feel. It's just … well, Rod's been acting like he's guilty of something. Maybe I'm nuts. Maybe I'm just imagining things."

"No, you're not nuts, and if you're imagining things, so am I," Emily said. "I've noticed a change in Rod's behavior lately. I couldn't put my finger on it, but now that you mention it, he has been acting guilty. I think he's been trying to tell me something, but I've been putting him off, afraid of what he might say or do."

"So, the suspects haven't changed since day one, have they?" Nikki shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then stared di
rectly at Emily."

"What is it?"

"There are two more obvious suspects, you know."

"Not Mitch."

"Yeah, Mitch. Even though I don't think it's him. I'm sure
the police still have him at the top of their list, thanks to Fowler. And he's another name that should be on the list."

"Uncle Fowler? You're joking." Emily's eyes widened in disbelief. "Nikki, if there's anyone on earth I can trust to never hurt me, to always do what he thinks is best for me, that person is Uncle Fowler."

"Maybe he thinks scaring you into moving back to
Mobile
with him and into putting Mitch out of your life is what's best for you."

"Uncle Fowler would never… No, it can't be him. The phone calls and letters were from someone who wanted to be my lover. Uncle Fowler doesn't feel that way about me. He loves me like a daughter or a little sister."

"I thought so, too. But maybe we were wrong."

"It has to be Rod or Charles or… It isn't Mitch and it isn't Uncle Fowler. Oh, Lord, Nikki, if only the police could discover the man's identity and put an end to this insanity. I don't know how much more I can take."

"I can imagine how you must have felt last night. All alone in the dark, with two guys breaking into your home."

Emily lifted the moist glass to her lips and tasted the cool tea. "I was scared to death, but at the same time, I was so angry. Angry with the men breaking into my house … but—but most of all, I was angry with myself because of my irrational fear of the dark."