Exposed to Passion (Five Senses series Book 3) Read online

  The woman had some nerve. Hollister told her Sherry had even paid Brett for his help and his silence. That by itself landed her deeper in the stew.

  “According to one of Katie Germaine’s new friends, who was at the Hillman house when it happened, the FBI showed up just after school and arrested Sherry. There were tears and threats.”

  “Good Lord!” Pippa exclaimed. “I hope her ex-husband is a good attorney. She’ll need one.”

  “It’s all over now but the shouting. And the formal charges. And the prison sentence. Sherry Hillman’s future isn’t looking too bright.”

  “What’s next for you?” Jem asked. “How much longer will you be staying in Granite Pointe? And before you answer, I hope you’re going to say a long, long time.”

  Rikki shook her head. “I’m sticking to the original plan. The exhibit moves to Philadelphia, then New Haven and Providence. I go with it. I won’t be back for a month and then it’s only for a weekend. I’ll leave for Baltimore after that. I think it’s best if I get out of town. For my own peace of mind. I can’t run into Sam if I’m not around, right?”

  Jem frowned and laid her hand on Rikki’s arm. “Oh, I hope you’ll change your mind. I know from experience that when life hands you sour grapes, you can make pretty yummy sangria from them.” She slipped her hand into Jack’s, twining their fingers together. “I ran here to escape from something and found the best man and family a woman could ask for. Please give Sam a chance. Don’t run from him.”

  Rikki drained the last of her wine and set the glass on the tray of a passing waiter. She shook her head, knowing that her future lacked as much brightness as Sherry Hillman’s did. They each had their problems to deal with. She was thankful hers was only a broken heart and not a prison term.

  Chapter 29

  The exhibit had kept her on the road for longer than she’d anticipated. Spring had evolved to early summer as Rikki flitted from city to city. She’d lived in twelve different hotels in the past three months and there were still eight more to go.

  But she planned a break for the next two weeks and was going to make the most of her free time.

  Her first stop had been Bar Harbor. She’d checked in at her office and caught up on paperwork. She and Jenni had worked like fiends on a mid-year budget review and had tackled a mountain of requests. Some were for permission to borrow photos for other exhibits, others were for information or personal appearances. The grant applications had been the hardest for Rikki to deal with. Every second she’d spent on reading and approving those forms served as a reminder of Sam.

  Rikki had stayed with Silas because the intern still occupied her condo. Her temporary residency in his spacious second bedroom had been a bonding experience. They’d spent several evenings with their heads together, looking at digital images. Silas had finally softened his stance enough to let his curiosity peek out. Oh, he was never going to be a proponent, but even slight interest was progress.

  On the last Saturday she was scheduled to be in town, she’d taken a long, contemplative walk around Grandfather’s gardens, and a longer nap. She was meeting Jenni for one last dinner prior to returning to Granite Pointe.

  It didn’t take more than five minutes for Jenni to begin badgering Rikki to talk about what was troubling her. Sipping a glass of mineral water while they waited for their first course, Rikki tried to keep her composure in the face of her friend’s concern.

  “All I’m saying is the poor guy made a mistake. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?” Jenni demanded as their salads were served.

  “Sure. But—”

  Jenni shot her fist into the air, her fork with lettuce bobbing off the end aimed at Rikki like a deadly salad torpedo. “No buts. You have to find a way to forgive him.”

  “Why? Why should I forgive him? He was horrible to me the last time we spoke. He never had anything good to say about me…about Marguerite. Jesus Christ, Jenni. You should have heard him.” Hmm, could she sound any more wishy-washy? She struggled to pull the heat of her outrage forward, but her heart refused to cooperate.

  “He was angry and hurt. He thought you’d deliberately lied to him.”

  “How would you have handled it? If he decided, sight unseen, that you were spoiled and pampered and scatterbrained?” Rikki scoffed as indignation finally rose. “What about the fifty and sixty hours I put in each week running a multi-million dollar foundation? If I went to parties or events, it was always business. I never left one of those events without at least one pledge for a significant donation. I was always on the job.

  “He accused me of shopping for shoes instead of working. Jenni, I can’t remember the last time I bought a new pair of shoes that weren’t designed for running.” She had her knife clenched in her hand and banged it on the table. “I’d love to shop, but I don’t have time or energy. Why couldn’t he see that?”

  The look on Jenni’s face was puzzled and slightly alarmed as she warily watched Rikki’s hand. “You wanted him to notice your shoes?”

  Rikki dropped the knife with a clunk and laughed. “No, I wanted him to see Marguerite as a hardworking woman who would have approved his application if she’d ever received it. I wanted him to accept me as I am, warts and all. I wanted him to love me and Marguerite. We are the same damn person. God, that sounds demented, doesn’t it? Sure, I probably could have told him my legal name. But he didn’t make it easy.”

  “He does love you.” Sincerity made Jenni’s eyes glitter like emeralds. She reached across the table and patted Rikki’s hand, the gesture comforting and disarming.

  “How do you know?” If she sounded any more dejected they’d sign her up for the Pessimist’s Club.

  “Honey, I have access to your email account. I know he sends you a note weekly, without fail. I can’t imagine what your personal email looks like. I’d bet you get something from him every day.”

  Her best friend and co-worker hit that nail on the head. A new message had arrived each day from Sam. At first, she’d been too angry to open anything with his name on it. She’d set a rule on her account to immediately divert his letters to a file, unread and unreturned. Daily for the past three months, she’d watched the number of unread messages in the box increase by one. It had been hard to maintain her resolve not to read them.

  She should have set them to delete automatically when they came in, to treat them like spam. No sooner had she opened a rule for it, her resolve would crater and she’d close it without saving the action. It was as if deleting them would delete Sam from her life, something her subconscious wouldn’t allow.

  Facing the file each and every day stung like a needle to the eye. She hadn’t been able to open her inbox without flinching. She’d nearly crumbled one night in Norfolk, hovering the mouse over the icon where his notes resided, while tears streamed down her face and her heart warred with her mind.

  In the end, she couldn’t open the file. It would have been too painful to deal with. Even with Silas’s voice screaming through her mind to not be such a nervous ninny, she simply could not force herself to confront the emotions she knew his words would unleash.

  Jenni tapped her hand again, interrupting her thoughts. “He loves you. And you love him. It really is that simple, sweetie. And this is the last thing I’m going to say about it, because we have other things to gossip about. I don’t know what the fuck you’re waiting for.”

  * * * *

  Gunnar had moved into the rental house after finalizing the purchase of the Granite Bay Health Club. Once some minor remodeling was complete, he’d open for business. Rikki had been amazed to discover that he’d hired Jack Kerrigan as his contractor.

  When she’d arrived in Granite Pointe yesterday, they’d talked into the early morning about the major events in their lives: Rikki’s evolving relationship with Silas, the FBI’s case against Brett Erskine and Sherry Hillman, Gunnar’s plans for the gym. After dancing around the topic for a while, the subject of Sam came up. Rikki confessed her feelings, emotions, and ov
erall state of mind to where she stood on a relationship with him.

  Lost in a forest of doubt and despair.

  The day’s heat began the second the sun had peeked over the harbor. Rikki sat on the front steps of the rental and tied her shoelaces, anticipating her morning run after a sleepless night. After her long drive from Bar Harbor yesterday, she was enthusiastic about getting out for a little exercise. Gunnar had cleared his morning calendar to accompany her, and stood in front of her, fiddling with his phone and patiently stretching in the beautiful morning sunshine. It didn’t stop him from bringing up Sam.

  “Rik, he asks about you every damn day. Even when I could barely stand to speak to him, when I told him to shut the fuck up more often than not, he still asked. He’s grown on me. And you know that’s hard for me to admit.” Gunnar’s tone wavered between surprise and chagrin.

  His words hit her hard, a cold nasty smack at the base of her neck. Identifying the sensation as jealousy, she tried to hide her surprise. An unsuccessful attempt, if the smug look on Gunnar’s face was any clue. “So, what? You guys are best friends now?” She sounded defensive.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Holy hell, Gunnar! He broke my heart. Did you forget that little detail?”

  “Nah. But I figure he’s going to be my brother-in-law one day. It would be good to like him, at least a little.”

  “Go to hell!” she exploded. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Common sense is my super-power, Rik-a-rak. He loves you. You love him. You will work this out. Once you quit riding the dragon.”

  She hated it when he trotted out his favorite expression for describing her monthly hormonal imbalance. But he couldn’t be more wrong about it. The emotional rollercoaster she’d been on went well beyond any monthly fluctuations. His prediction about his future in-law couldn’t be anymore off-base either. There was no chance of her reconciling with Sam. She ruthlessly beat down the hope rising in her chest with the urgency of a summer tide.

  When she flipped him off, Gunnar laughed and pulled her from her perch on the steps and into a hard hug. “Just so you know…Silas, Jenni, and I have a bet on when you’re finally going to cave. So far, I’m winning because I know you’re as stubborn as a mule. But, Rik? They call those things dumbasses for a reason.”

  She smirked at Gunnar, then walked down the path to start their run. Due to the temperature, Rikki opted for running shorts and a baggy T-shirt instead of her usual summer running uniform of a form-fitting singlet. Not to mention, it covered the evidence of her recent lack of exercise and her extended life on the road. She’d tied her hair back in a ponytail but left it trailing down her back.

  Gunnar let her set the pace and she led with a slow, easy lope. She knew he wanted to sprint, but running flat out lately had been painful. Her ridiculously big breasts were swollen and achy—damn hormones. Even her most supportive racer-back bras hadn’t done the trick.

  Turning into the park on the edge of the harbor, they jogged down the trail while Gunnar bounced ideas off her for programs for the gym. His decision to expand the childcare center was solid, and his idea to offer initial training assessments with personal trainers guaranteed people would stay motivated and continue to pay for memberships with the club.

  Increasing his pace, Gunnar pushed her to race him up the small hill to the scenic look-out over the harbor. They rested along the railing, gazing at the waves rolling up to the shore. Rikki timed her breathing to the smooth, rocking motion: easy in, gentle out.

  It didn’t have the same effect on Gunnar, who all but danced next to her, agitated, as though he were nervous.

  Turning her head, she studied him. He acted like a guilty prisoner in front of a hanging judge. He squinted his eyes and scrunched his lips. Aw, shit. There was that look. The one that promised she was not going to like what he was about to say.

  “Rikki, I…” He trailed off and looked over her shoulder. His eyes widened infinitesimally and her stomach jumped like an out-of-focus video.

  Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder, she whispered, “Gun, what the hell have you done?”

  “Please don’t be mad,” her stupid brother pleaded. “I’m only thinking about you. You have to talk to him. Ignoring it won’t make it go away. And it won’t fix anything.”

  She jerked when he laid a gentle hand on her belly and rubbed his thumb over it. He eyed her earnestly, as if willing her to be strong, to be honest. With the barest pressure on her waist, he pushed her around to face the man her heart wouldn’t stop loving.

  * * * *

  The fist clenched around his throat squeezed tighter as Sam approached Rikki. Dark red highlights winked in her hair and the morning sunlight bathed her in a surreal glow, transforming her into a sultry angel. After spending hours studying the images he’d found on his camera, he thought he’d memorized every intriguing nuance of her face and form. A complete false assumption. His first glimpse of the woman who had snared his heart stole what little breath remained in his lungs. He unconsciously cataloged everything as she turned slowly toward him: the curves of her gorgeous body, the angle of her cheeks, her lush lips.

  Trepidation lurked deep in the chocolate of her eyes. She was as apprehensive about this meeting as he was.

  Her lips were grimly set while Gunnar whispered in her ear. Sam stopped five agonizing feet away from the woman who had haunted his dreams and distracted his every waking moment. His insides leaped as if Cirque Du Soleil’s entire acrobatic troupe held trampoline practice in his gut. He flexed cold fingers, attempting to minimize the urge to grab her and never let go until she uttered the three little words he longed to hear: I. Forgive. You. Then, he prayed he’d hear the other three words he craved.

  Gunnar gave Rikki a quick hug and kissed her cheek. He walked toward him, hand extended. The man who’d cold-cocked him the first time they met leaned forward and gave him a bro-hug, right arm crossed between their bodies, left arm wrapped around Sam’s shoulders.

  Thumping Sam’s shoulder blade hard, Gunnar spoke quietly for Sam’s ears only. “Man, I got her here. She’s either gonna hate me forever or elect me for sainthood. You make damn sure she goes the sainthood route, okay? Don’t screw this up.”

  Sam slapped Gunnar’s back and eyed Rikki over the man’s shoulder. “I’ll do my best. Thanks. I really do mean that.”

  Gunnar shoved out of the bro-embrace, waved jauntily to his sister, heightening the confused look on her lovely face, and took off down the trail. Approaching a bend in the path, his satisfied laughter floated back toward where Sam stood facing Rikki. Too nervous to speak.

  The tense silence stretched until it bordered on awkward. Rikki finally broke it. “Hello, Sam.”

  There was the silk-sheets-and-hot-summer-nights voice. It zigzagged through his brain, reminding him of how it had filled his heart when she’d laid her head on the pillow next to his and whispered into his ear.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. Could she hear the sorrow in his voice as easily as he did? “Rikki, I’m so damn sorry about what I said. About how I handled everything that night. I wanted to rip my tongue out and stomp on it.”

  He barely managed to get the words past the choking lump in his throat. Taking a step closer to her, he extended his hand, praying she’d take the next step and bring them closer.

  She dropped her head and eyed his outstretched hand, but didn’t move. He bent at the waist, trying to read her inscrutable expression. “Please talk to me, Rikki. Please,” he begged. “I love you. Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and raised her gaze back to his. Oh God, please don’t let her say what he feared most. Please don’t let her next words be “go to hell.” While he waited, he blinked rapidly to clear the burning sensation behind his eyes.

  Rikki exhaled forcefully, the explosive sound a curious mix of distress and resignation. This is what it felt like when a heart hits the floor. When
the world splinters like safety glass into millions of tiny shards scattering across the burned remains of life. This had to be what she’d felt the night he’d turned into a raging moron.

  She gestured toward a bench by the overlook railing. “Can we sit?”

  He followed her but remained standing while she settled onto the hard concrete. Unable to bear looking at her when she finished off his broken heart he gazed out at the bay, watching the ocean churn against the rocks of the harbor.

  Sighing again, Rikki finally grabbed his hand, her touch electric against his skin. Would this be the last time he experienced the tingles her fingers generated? She scooted over on the bench and pulled him down to sit next to her. When she didn’t release his hand, hope ballooned in his chest.

  * * * *

  Touching him again, holding his strong hand, feeling his warm thigh pressed lightly against hers, forced all of the longing she’d crushed down and hidden from for the past three months back to the surface. Everything good trembled butterfly-like inside her, a wondrous, warm sensation.

  Opening her mouth to speak, she hesitated when she spied Sam’s sad, watery gaze. She lifted a hand to caress his cheek and squeezed her eyes shut when he turned and pressed a kiss to her palm.

  “How did we get here, Sam?” she asked.

  “It’s my fault. I flew off the handle and reacted, instead of thinking. I was so shocked when I read those captions, I stopped using my head.” Laying a hand over hers, he lowered it to his heart. The soft, insistent thud resonated against her palm.

  “Sam, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I should have told you my real name from the beginning. I just—”

  He stopped her with a squeeze of his hand around hers. “No, I—it’s my fault. I understand why you introduced yourself as Rikki. I know that’s how you think of yourself. Gunnar told me what happened when you were in college.” He cleared his throat. “I know I crushed any opportunity to tell me the truth by being an arrogant ass whenever I talked about Marguerite. Jesus, I don’t know how you didn’t haul off and knock me off my feet whenever the subject came up.”