Chapter 3 #2
"I have been accused of such a thing." He took another sip of water.
The past couple of days had him thinking and he had come up with the solution.
He would find his own bride and force them to accept her.
He knew their views on people outside their race and wanted to teach them a lesson.
"Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you haven't been dreaming of getting revenge for the way they treated your mother. "
Her eyes flashed, giving him the answer.
"Don't speak of my mother."
He reached across to touch her hand briefly, tightening his grip as she started to pull away. "She was sweet. Your mother was kind and tried her best to be there for me. She was not treated fairly. She was kind and compassionate and always had something positive to say to me. I liked her."
She had to blink away the tears. Turning her head away, she stared out the window.
The rain had started, soft and silent, pinging against the window.
Caleb was right. Coming back had been a mistake.
Being here was bringing back all the awful memories and making her feel as if she wanted to vent her frustrations and despair.
"We can help each other." His soft tone had her turning her head to look at him.
"I want them off my damn back and you want your revenge.
I promise that it would be in name only.
I am asking for a year. During that time, I will keep my hands to myself, and we live our separate lives.
The only condition is that we live together.
They have to believe that we're madly in love with each other. "
"Why me?" She could not believe she was entertaining his ridiculous offer.
Removing his hand from hers, he patted his pocket and started to draw out the case but decided against it. "Let's just say you're of the right complexion."
Her eyes glittered. "Meaning, I am Black."
He inclined his head, eyes glimmering in amusement. "I want to taint the precious Wainwright blood."
"Get someone else to play your sick game--"
"I remember the day when she punished your mother by making her stay later than her shift. All because you had an accident and ended up in the ER. Mother only cared that she was late to prepare for the dinner party she was hosting."
Tears and anger glittered in her eyes as the memories came fast and furious.
She had fallen out of the oak tree at the edge of her aunt's property.
Julesa recalled how stressed and anxious her mother had been because she had to rush with her to the hospital.
Fortunately, she had only suffered from a broken collarbone and scratch and bruises.
But taking her there had cut into her work time and Jacquline Wainwright had been furious, only caring about her precious dinner party.
"That was a long time ago," she muttered.
"You still remember, and it pisses you off."
"Not anymore." She shook her head as he lifted his brows.
"She cannot hurt me anymore."
"But now you have a chance to pay her back." For the first time since the idea germinated inside his mind, he realized how much he wanted her to say yes.
"I cannot marry you."
"Why not?"
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Because--what you're suggesting is crazy."
"Then let's get crazy together." His voice was persuasive and Julesa could not believe she was even considering it.
"I--"
"Think about it." He rose. "I'll give you a couple of days."
"I'm not going to change my mind."
"We'll see." With a mocking salute, he left the room.
She sat there as if turned to stone. The rapidly cooling tea was forgotten as well as the biscuits he had placed in front of her.
Her head was buzzing. He wanted her to marry him.
No, she shook her head, hands clasped on the counter.
It was crazy. Yes, he had hit the nail on the head when he said she wanted revenge.
She could taste it. After thinking that she had gotten over the way those people had treated her and her mother, it had surfaced viciously as soon as she stepped foot on the soil.
She hated the Wainwright's. Hated them with a passion that twisted her in knots.
She wanted nothing more than to rub their faces in her success.
And it occurred to her that being a bestselling author with books that had been turned into box office success meant nothing to them.
They were untouchable, powerful and it did not matter to them that she had beaten the odds.
"No," she whispered. "I cannot be considering it. There's no way." Picking up the tea, she swallowed it down. It could have been plain water, she never even tasted it.
*****
Cursing beneath his breath, he almost stepped back out of his suite when he saw his sister sitting on the edge of his bed.
After the way he had left things the other night, his family was barely speaking to him.
Which was fine with him. His mother had stonily told him that he had embarrassed the family and Sally.
"Whatever it is, will have to wait. I am heading out."
"I won't take long."
On closer inspection, he saw that his sister's face was stained with tears. What were the odds of having two women crying in his presence, he wondered wearily.
Closing the doors, he kicked off his shoes and left them by the bed. "What's wrong?"
"I had a miscarriage." Her hands were gripped so tightly together, the knuckles were showing white.
Sitting next to her, he pried her fingers loose and took her hands in his. "You were pregnant?"
She nodded, blue eyes filling. "I cannot tell mother. She will be so disappointed." The tears started to course down her cheeks again.
Biting off an impatient sigh, he gathered her against him. Burying her face on his chest, she sobbed brokenly. Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he waited until the tears were spent.
"You're going to make yourself ill." Easing her away, he plucked at some tissues on the bedside table and handed them to her. "Does your husband know?"
She nodded. Mopping her pale face with the tissues, she started to shred the damp paper.
"And?"
"He blames me."
"What the hell for?" Jordan started to rise, when she stopped him by gripping his hand, fingers digging into skin.
"Please."
"He's an asshole."
"He's under a lot of pressure." She tailed off at the ominous look on his face.
"You don't understand. You've always been so self-sufficient, not caring what they say to you.
I am not like that; we're not like that.
" She bit her lip. "I want to be brave, but I never was.
It's easier to just agree to everything they say.
I wish things were different." She looked so lost and disconsolate that he felt his heart going out to her.
Prying her hand off his arm, he lifted her chin. "Do you love him?" he asked her quietly. He never expected an honest answer and wasn't surprised when her gaze slid from his.
"It doesn't matter." She started to rise, but he held her there.
"Life's too short for you to be trapped in a marriage from hell. Think about it," he advised softly. When the tears started again, he just held her, a grim expression on his face.
*****
"When are you coming home?"
She had sat at the counter, until the cold reminded her that she had yet to turn on the heat.
Her stomach was hollow, but her appetite was non-existent.
It had taken a lot for her to answer the phone and appear neutral.
She could not very well tell her brother about the crazy proposal from Jordan Wainwright and the fact that she was actually thinking about it.
She had decided against staying in her old room and was inside the room that had been her mother's. Julesa could have sworn that she could still smell the lilac perfume she always wore.
"Soon. I have some things to tie up first." She plucked at the quilt restlessly. She had locked the place up tight, but the tree limbs knocking against the windowpane was making her feel jumpy. Or perhaps it was the marriage proposal. "The Wainwrights want to purchase the property."
She waited as silence followed her announcement.
"They approached you?"
She told him about the lawyer who had cornered her at the grave side.
"Vulture," he muttered furiously. "They couldn't give you time to grieve, could they. How much property can they use? What did you say to him?"
"I told him to go to hell."
He laughed in approval. "Be prepared for them to bombard you. If they start harassing you, give me a call. I would love to give them a piece of my mind. How are you really?"
She felt the tears again clogging her throat. "I miss mama, Caleb. And everything that she went through, the sacrifices she made, working for those people makes me so angry. I thought I was over it."
"You never really get over something like that. I wish you would come back home. Let the lawyer handle the property. You don't need that toxic environment."
"I'm fine." She drew in a breath. "Besides, I want to base a part of the story in Winter's Peak."
"What the hell are you saying?" he demanded. "Does that mean you're planning on staying longer?"
"Maybe." She hated lying to him and it occurred to her that not being straight with him was doing exactly that. "I don't know yet. I'll let you know."
"You need to get the hell out of there honey." His voice softened. "You know I would be there if I could get away, but it's impossible right now."
"How's the case going?" She decided to change the subject.
"It hit a snag," he said with a sigh. "Witnesses keep disappearing without a trace. I've worked too hard to see this go to hell."
"I know you'll find a way to work it out. Just promise me you'll be careful. You're all I have."
"That's always uppermost in my mind. Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow."
"I love you Caleb."
"Love you too."
Hanging up the phone, she knew she had an exceedingly long night ahead of her.