Chapter 1
Edward rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to focus on the time. It was five-fifty in the morning! Normally, he would already be awake and working out by this time of the morning, but he’d been up the previous night closing out what he anticipated to be a very lucrative business deal. Since he’d only gotten to sleep about three hours ago, Edward wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone this early in the morning.
Whoever was banging on his door and repeatedly pressing that damn doorbell was in serious trouble.
“I’m coming, damn it!”
Edward Henderson, Fifth Duke of Finhearst, angrily flipped the security lock on the door, fully prepared to cut off the person’s hands so they couldn’t ring that damn doorbell ever again!
It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning! Who the hell was at his door at this entirely uncivilized hour?
Since autumn was quickly approaching, the sun still hadn’t peeked over the horizon, so after yanking the door open, Edward stood in the doorway, taking in the incomprehensible scene in front of him.
Before his sleep-deprived mind could make sense of the person about to ring his bell again, Edward was shoved out of the way.
“Thank goodness!” a feminine voice whispered.
The exhausted woman with an enormous duffel-bag hanging from her shoulder rushed into his house. She wore one of those olive-drab, military jackets with pockets all over the front, jeans that had some sort of glop staining one thigh, worn out sneakers, and a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes, disguising her features.
Edward wasn’t in the mood for pranks from the village teenagers. Furiously, he turned to confront the ragged-looking person now standing in his entryway.
“Who the hell are you and why are you banging on my door?” Edward demanded, leaving the door open as he glared down at the woman.
“Shut the door!” the voice whispered again, furtively glancing around, then peering towards the woods on the other side of his yard.
He noticed that the woman was terrified, white-faced, and shaking. There was something oddly familiar about her. But that was impossible. This woman didn’t look like anyone that he knew. And yet…?
That voice! It was the voice that sounded familiar. “Please, Edward! I need your help!”
The word “help” and the fact that the woman knew his name snapped at something in his brain. “Who are you?”
“Close the door…please?” the stranger pleaded, stepping deeper into the shadows of the foyer.
Since he was wearing only a well-worn pair of jeans that he hadn’t bothered to button, Edward closed the door. Not because of the woman’s request, but because he didn’t want any wandering paparazzi to snap a shot of him without a shirt or shoes on.
So he shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the strange woman.
“Door is closed. Now explain!” he ordered in his best ducal voice.
Normally, that tone was all that was needed for the recipient to quake with fear, then proceed to stammer out an apology and an explanation.
Apparently, this woman was immune to his authority. Interesting. He pulled out his cell phone, one thumb hovering over the emergency button. “Get out of my house, or I’ll call the police.”
Before he could follow through on that threat, the baseball cap and gloves were removed and a mass of sleek, brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders. The hair still covered the woman’s face, but Edward immediately recognized that hair! A year ago, he’d had that long, beautiful hair draping over his chest or twisted around his hands as he’d made love to the most beautiful, amazing woman!
“Macie?” he hissed, all ducal authority melting away as he stared down into the exhausted green eyes of the only woman who had gotten close enough to touch his heart.
She didn’t even smile as she pushed her hair out of her eyes, then gently, almost reverently, shifted the heavy bag on her shoulder.
Edward reached out to take the heavy load from her. She looked exhausted. “Let me help you with-”
“No!” she yelped, stepping out of his reach while her hands splayed protectively in front of the bag. Then she tenderly lifted the duffel bag off of her shoulder, cradling it in her arms. “I need to sit down,” she told him, looking around for a place to sit. When she didn’t see any chairs, she lifted those deep, green eyes to him.
Edward was still stunned. Macie Meyers was here? In Bristol?
Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please?” she whispered again. “I really need your help, Edward.”
That word; “help”. In the short time that he’d known Macie, she’d always been annoyingly confident and self-sufficient. The plea yanked him out of his stunned silence.
“This way,” he said, regrouping and leading the way through the foyer to the great room. Looking around, he couldn’t help but wonder what Macie might think about his ducal estate. Would it matter? Would she care about the elaborate elegance? Would she even notice the ancient décor? And why did he care?
No! It couldn’t matter! Bringing himself up short, Edward reminded himself of his past, of his heritage. He’d made a vow to himself more than a decade ago. He couldn’t break that vow. Not even for Macie.
He watched while Macie slowly lowered herself down into the caramel colored sofa, holding that ridiculous duffel bag as reverently as if it held the crown jewels.
Edward followed her, watching as she took a deep breath.
Suddenly, his anger overwhelmed his curiosity.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. Information, logic, and rational thought were the way he’d learned to live his life. The one time he’d ignored logic was a year ago. With Macie. He’d let his body take control and it had been the worst decision of his life.
Macie gave him a heavy, relieved sigh and turned to the duffel bag. Slowly, she unzipped the bag, beaming as she peered inside.
Edward stepped back, images of a nest of snakes coming out of that bag flashing through his head. The way she peeled back the zipper, then slowly, carefully, reached inside, set off his alarm bells.
However, the bundle that came out of the bag wasn’t something he could process!
Macie smiled as she lifted her still-sleeping son into her arms. “You’re such a wonderful darling!” she praised. “Momma loves it when you sleep!”
She cradled Kyle as she leaned back against the uncomfortable sofa. Sighing, she shifted her position so that she was more comfortable. For a moment, she closed her eyes, reveling in the moment of safety.
“Macie?”
Macie sighed again and pushed away the exhaustion as she opened her eyes and looked up at Edward.
“Yes, Edward?” she replied, trying, and failing, to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. When she looked up at him, she saw the stunned horror in his eyes, the tension in the muscles of his bare chest and ramrod straight posture. If she hadn’t been awake for the past forty-eight hours in a panicked sprint to find a safe hiding place, she might have laughed at Edward’s expression.
But she had been on the run since her house had been burned down. And the barn. And everything inside of both.
Thankfully, her small, family farm, which she’d inherited from her mother, no longer had any livestock. The horses and cows that had previously roamed the pastures had been sold off. The barn only contained rotting hay and farm tools.
Well, it had contained all of that stuff. Now, that barn and her home were…ashes.
Edward stared at the sleeping infant, his heart pounding in his chest. “I need an explanation.”
Macie nodded. “Yes, that’s fair. However, could you get me a glass of water first? I’ve been traveling for…” she shrugged and Edward finally took a proper look at her.
Gone were the sparkling, daring emerald eyes that he remembered so well. Gone were the soft, smiling lips that had comforted and taunted him. Instead, Macie sported dark circles under those still-beautiful green eyes, but they were dull with exhaustion. Her lips were the same color as her skin and chapped.
Water.She needed water!
“Fine!” he snapped and turned, heading to the bar off in a corner. He grabbed a highball glass and filled it with water. She probably needed ice, but he needed an explanation. His eyes kept returning to the infant in her arms.
“Thank you,” she whispered, taking the glass and draining it before setting it onto the side table.
“Now will you tell me…?” he snarled, sliding one finger in the loops of his jeans as he glared down at her.
She shifted, sighing softly as her hands gently stroked the dark fuzz of the babe’s head. As she patted the diapered bottom, Edward couldn’t help but note that Macie’s fingernails no longer sported the daring red nail polish. Her fingernails were no longer manicured, but were instead ragged and chipped.
In other words, gone was the beautiful, vibrant woman he’d made love to over and over again during the span of a long weekend twelve months ago. This exhausted, gaunt woman with pale features and ragged fingernails was a ghost of her former self.
“What do you want to know, Edward?” she prompted, then yawned, her hand coming up as if she could somehow hide the yawn.
Why are you here? What happened to you? Why are you so exhausted? Where is the rest of your luggage? Is that my child?
A thousand other questions flashed through his mind. But he was too stunned by her presence here, with a baby in her arms…no, in her luggage…to form any of them into words.
“Yes, Edward, this is Kyle. Our son.”