Pages of Passion (13 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

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BOOK: Pages of Passion
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Noreen’s cell phone rang and she grabbed it, once again glad for an interruption.

Michael reached for the phone. “Don’t answer it.”

She moved it out of his reach. “It could be important.” Noreen looked at the ID and saw Clyde’s number. She silently swore. “Speak of the devil.”

“It’s him?”

She nodded, staring down at the phone.

“Break up with him now.”

Noreen looked up at him, stunned. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

He reached for the phone again. “Then I’ll do it for you.”

Noreen stepped back. “And I’ll never talk to you again.”

“Angel,” Michael warned.

She knew there was one more ring before it went to voice mail, but she had to talk to Clyde. Now. She didn’t want to have to get back to him. Arlene trusted her to keep up the charade and keep Clyde interested.
She turned her back and walked away from Michael. “Hello?”

“Is that any way to greet me?” Clyde said.

“Sorry,” Noreen said, searching her mind to figure out how Arlene would address him. “Hey, baby.”

“That’s better. Everything okay?”

She didn’t look at Michael. “Everything’s fine.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Michael walked up to her. Noreen held up a warning finger and mouthed “Don’t touch me.”

He held up his hands in a show of obedience.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Clyde asked.

“I’d have more fun if you were here with me,” she said, imitating Arlene’s coy tone.

Michael’s hands fell to his hips.

Clyde laughed. “What are you wearing?”

“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Michael said.

“Who’s that?” Clyde asked in a suspicious tone. “Is someone there?”

Noreen glared at Michael. “There’s no one here. It’s just the TV.”

Michael sat on the bed.

“Sounded like someone was in the room.”

Noreen turned away from him and lightened her voice. “Oh, yes…that’s just the steward. He’s delivered my coffee.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

Damn, he was right. Arlene hated coffee. She shook her head. “I mean hot chocolate,” she said then yelped when Michael pulled her onto his lap.

“Arlene?” Clyde said, sounding worried.

“I’m still here.” She elbowed Michael; he tightened his hold.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound distracted.”

Noreen removed Michael’s hand from under her shirt. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Are you sure that’s all? You sound a little breathless.”

“Because you take my breath away, baby.”

Michael growled; Noreen slapped his leg.

Clyde lowered his voice. “And you know what you do to me,” he said.

Noreen closed her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t tell her. Michael pressed his lips against the back of her neck then touched her skin with the tip of his tongue. She gripped the phone. “Um…baby, you’re starting to break up. I’ll try to call you later.”

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yes.”

“You’re ready for St. Lagans?”

“Definitely.” Michael nipped her skin with his teeth and her body tingled. She had to get off the phone fast. “I…barely…hear…” she said, leaving out words so he’d think the connection was bad. “Better…go. ’Bye.” She disconnected then turned to Michael. “You’re impossible.”

“Why did you tell him you were drinking hot chocolate?”

“Because he doesn’t like me drinking coffee.”

Michael’s eyes pierced hers. “Next time you’re going to tell him about me.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

Noreen wiggled off his lap and stood. “I can’t. You have no idea what you’re asking me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“There’s a lot at stake. He’s been good to me. I owe him. I’ve known him for months and you for less than a week. He’s the reason I’m on this trip. He paid for everything. I can’t hurt him like that. I love him. You may not understand that, but I do.”

“Then why were you crying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it because you saw me with another woman?” He didn’t let her answer. “Why would that bother you when you have Clyde? Don’t I have the right to belong to someone the way you do?”

“You’re right,” Noreen said, suddenly weary. “Let’s end this now. It’s been fun but it’s getting complicated. You can go back to your princess—”

“My princess?”

“Yes, that’s what she was at the masquerade ball.”

His eyes brightened. “So you noticed me then too?”

“That’s not the point,” she said, irritated by his amusement. “It’s over. You’ve got whatever-her-name-is and—”

“Joy.”

“What?”

“Her name is Joy.”

Noreen clenched her teeth. “Does it matter?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might want to know.”

“You’re ruining my moment. If you haven’t noticed, we’re breaking up.”

“Sorry, go on.” He made a motion of zipping his lips.

“Right,” she said, annoyed by his mocking tone. “You go back to Joy and I’ll go back to Clive…uh, Clyde,” she hastily corrected. “And that’s it. No one gets hurt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone.” She walked over to her side table and sat. She opened her journal and began writing.

Michael walked up to her and peered over her shoulder. “Are you writing another love letter?”

She stiffened. “Go away.”

He toyed with the soft hairs on the back of her neck. “That’s what you expect me to do, isn’t it?”

She swatted his hand away. “There’s nothing else to say.”

He rested his arms on the back of her chair. “I think you have the same issues your sister has but you hide it better. You don’t trust people to stay, but I promise you this.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Noreen turned to him. She desperately wanted to believe him as she sought reassurance in his eyes. But a series of questions flooded her. Were there other women in his past like Joy? How could a man who traveled a lot promise anything? Was he really all that he seemed?

But did she have a right to ask those questions when she was wearing a façade? Did the answers really matter when they probably would never see each other again? All that mattered was now. That he was here with her.
She didn’t care about the reason why. And he’d proven Mr. Smith, the stranger from the ballroom, wrong.

He hadn’t used her. He wanted to be with her and he’d told her the truth about the woman on the deck. She could tell him the truth too. “I’ll tell you why I was crying.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I was crying because there are so many things I can’t tell you. I was crying because when you asked me to stay on the island with you, I wished I could say yes. And if my life were my own, I’d follow you anywhere and that’s the truth.”

“I believe you,” Michael said softly then he held her close. “This might be the worst mistake of my life, but I do.” He kissed her on the forehead then pulled away and unbuttoned his shirt.

Noreen stared at him, curious. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.” He placed his shirt on the dresser then undid his trousers.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“But your cabin is nicer.”

“I know.” He pulled down the sheets. “It’s bigger, better decorated and more expensive.” He climbed into bed and pulled up the covers to his waist. “There’s just one problem with it.”

“What?”

He smiled at her. “You’re not in it.” He nodded to her desk. “Have your coffee—excuse me, hot chocolate—and work on whatever you’re doing. I can keep myself busy.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

Noreen stared at him for a moment. He looked comfortable and content as if he’d meant every word. She sat down at her table then turned to her work, hiding a smile. Mr. Smith was definitely wrong. She wouldn’t be going to bed alone.

Chapter Thirteen

C
lyde Harris stubbed out his cigarette in a quick, definite motion before lighting another one. His recent call to Arlene bothered him, but not as much as the message he’d received. Someone didn’t trust her and had let him know.

That annoyed him. He’d groomed Arlene well and chosen her with care. Her connection to Obsidian had been a plus. She was loyal and obedient. He’d even considered marriage. His wife, dead for years now, had been a great companion in both business and the bedroom and he had hoped to have Arlene fill the same position. With her sweet smile she could charm as well as his poor wife had. Although it would take a few more years to give Arlene the sophisticated polish his darling had.

He took a long drag of his cigarette and thought about his wife. He no longer felt any sorrow, but a deep regret. Her death had been unfortunate, but she’d forgotten the dangerous game they were playing. Mistakes were costly and she’d paid the ultimate price. He stared with pride down at the lights of the city below his apartment window. He remembered being a little boy growing up in Brooklyn. He hadn’t had a view then because there hadn’t been any windows. He, his brother and mother had lived in a damp basement apartment that belonged to a woman who made his mother wash and iron all the clothes for her large family in exchange for rent. He remembered having to go to sleep to the sound of the spinning washing machine that knocked against the wall, and how the dryer would turn the room into a sauna.

He’d been surrounded by ugliness: the chipping paint haphazardly applied to the concrete walls, the makeshift kitchen, frayed rugs and worn bedsheets. He’d stared up at the ceiling one day, vowing that he’d live better when he grew up. He knew he’d been meant for better things, like fine new clothes instead of leftovers from some rich person’s closet that had either gotten stained or gone out of fashion.

He’d been meant for good food instead of the mush that came out of a can that his mother forced him to eat. He’d despised the woman. She’d had no aspirations and was a haggard, unattractive woman who didn’t know how to dress or style her hair. He hadn’t blamed his father for leaving her. He would have left her too and eventually did when he was fifteen and felt free to take
charge of his own destiny. A destiny filled with beautiful things.

He’d soon learned that destiny was something one had to fight for. Hard work didn’t equal great gain. He’d taken many jobs and none of them had gotten him even close to the lifestyle he deserved, so he did the only thing he knew would work.

He’d known the upper classes weren’t going to let him in, so he’d forced his way in without them even suspecting it. He’d refined his manners, his clothes and his strategy. He’d made sure to mingle with people of influence and make connections that would prove beneficial in the future. That’s when his dear wife, Elle, had entered his life and changed it. She’d grown up in a world he’d been on the outside of, and she’d let him in.

Together they’d created a business that still couldn’t be rivaled. He looked around his stylish apartment, at the culmination of all his dreams. It was his sanctuary. He’d never invited anyone there. He had another residence he used for show, but this place was for him alone. But he knew he was getting older and couldn’t keep going at the pace he had in the past. He wanted companionship and Arlene suited him. She was young and malleable and eager to please. He could teach her and mold her into anything he wanted.

He didn’t want to believe the message. He knew she could be foolish sometimes, but not careless. He would have to find out the situation for himself.

The next day Michael and Noreen were inseparable as they tried out several of the cruise ship’s many activities.
In the morning, Noreen made a bet with Michael that she could scale the onboard climbing wall. Unfortunately, she selected the most difficult challenge, and by the time she got to the top, she froze and had to have one of the crew help bring her down.

She hugged her rescuer in gratitude. “Will you marry me?”

He laughed as he released her safely back on the ground.

Michael came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I could have rescued you.”

She glared at him. “You were too busy laughing at me.”

“I would have rescued you
after
I’d stopped laughing.”

Noreen stuck her tongue out at him and marched off to change.

“I have a special place for us to have lunch,” Michael said after they’d returned their climbing gear.

“Really? Where? Is it the Coco Lounge?” Noreen asked, thinking of the expensive restaurant on the ship.

He stopped in front of the elevators. “No, it’s more exclusive.”

“Then let’s go.”

He took out a bandana. “But you have to close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a surprise.”

“If I wear that, people will look at me.”

“You won’t even notice. Do you trust me?”

Noreen thought about the great time they’d had on St. Barnaby. She’d taken a risk then, why not now? “Definitely.”

“Good,” he said then tied on the bandana and then waved his hand in front of her face. “No peeking.”

“I won’t.”

Michael took Noreen’s hand then led her into the elevator. They went up together in the elevator and then she followed him down a long hall. She heard a couple chatting and wind sweeping over a lounge chair and felt the warmth of the hot afternoon sun. Michael suddenly stopped and she heard a door open.

“Okay,” he said. “Now you can look.”

Noreen took off her blindfold and stared in amazement at Michael’s grand suite, which had a large bouquet of red and white roses on the center table and a two-tier tray of delicious tarts and cookies off to the side. She sat down in an overstuffed side chair. “Oh, this is nice.”

Michael closed the door behind him. “No, you’re not supposed to sit there.”

Noreen stared at him, confused. “Why not?”

He lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. “Because the last time you were here, you took care of me.” He gently set her down. “Now it’s my turn to take care of you.” He took off her shoes.

Noreen grinned and got under the sheets, relishing the feel of the satin sheets and plush pillows. “Oh, this sounds like fun. The first time I was in here I’d wondered what it would be like to be in your bed.” She pulled the sheets up to her chin. “Oooh, it feels so
good.” She stopped when she noticed him studying her. “What?”

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