Chapter 3
F ollowing the hospital visit, Rae returned to her office and accepted what had become a normal sheaf of message slips.
Unless she was working on a tight deadline or crucial court filing, she rarely used her office cell.
Carrying two phones was another part of this new existence, especially with Emma’s health issues.
Rae could not be bothered to wait until safely inside her office to check the messages.
Lana, her PA and friend, was the holder of multiple secrets, legal and otherwise.
She said, “You know I would have texted your private number if Holden had called.” Lana was also a happily married mother of three who thought Holden Geller was a perfect example of why good women went temporarily insane.
“I take it you did give him your private number.”
Rae let her hand drop. The messages weighed a ton. “Of course. But still.”
Lana sniffed. “I could always loan you Scott’s deer rifle. Give that louse the welcome he deserves when he finally shows up.”
Rae let the comment go. “I need to make a couple of calls.”
Lana checked her online calendar. “You have a Mister Brody Reames due in a few minutes.”
“Have him wait.”
“Should I start a file?”
“Probably not.” Rae shut her office door and stood there, waiting in futile hope that her world would settle to a stable course, or answers appear in the sunlight streaming through her windows—something …
Following the treasure hunt that saved the Fortunate Harbor complex, Rae had been seeing Holden Geller whenever he was not away on some mystery assignment.
“Treasure hunt” was how everyone involved now referred to the series of events that all crammed into a tight window of time and upended her life in the process.
Saving Fortunate Harbor from the clutches of a truly bad man; uncovering a treasure of an even worse bad guy; Holden proving himself to be a mercenary with honor as well as good looks; Rae becoming the attorney of record for the Crystal Coast’s first five-star resort; defying the DEA and coming out with her skin intact …
“Treasure hunt” worked as well as anything.
Rae had any number of words to describe this new version of her life. “Interesting” was what she mostly said when asked. Other terms came to mind, given the hour. Fulfilling. Frantic. Fun.
Lonely.
Most days, Rae remained too busy to worry about solitude. Her life was as full of people as she cared to make it. Days held conferences and planning sessions and court. Evenings, there were dinners and receptions and quite a few dates, especially with Holden.
But the nights were much too quiet, the hours overlong. Dawn runs had become her means of cutting short the empty space she couldn’t fill.
Just the same, she had remained mostly happy, in a somewhat lonely and discontented manner.
Those close to her assumed it all came down to two items: Rae’s independent streak and breaking up with Jack, her beau until the previous spring.
But Rae had made it this far being as honest as possible, especially with herself.
And the truth was, losing Jack left her feeling nothing at all. Not even relief.
When she thought about Jack, which wasn’t often, Rae found herself struggling to explain how she could have been with the man for ten months, fielded three marriage proposals, and liked him so much she had tried hard to call it love.
And yet, now … nada.
Her aunt Emma was the only person with whom Rae had shared the truth: It was like she’d been reading a good book, then finished a chapter, and turned the page. Did she miss the chapter now that it was over?
That was how she felt about Jack.
Holden and his entire team had once been Marines.
Now they served as security for whoever could afford their fairly outrageous fees.
In bygone eras, privateers had been buccaneers licensed by whichever nation con trolled the waters near a particular island or stretch of mainland.
The Crystal Coast had been claimed by Spain and Britain both, and this had once allowed pirates to wreak havoc in the offshore trading lanes.
Some historians even claimed the worst of these brigands had secretly been granted semilegal status, at least for a time.
In truth, Holden was nothing like that. He was one of the most honest and principled men Rae had ever met.
But he still walked dark ways and wrapped himself in mystery.
Holden Geller was, in Rae’s opinion, the penultimate good-bad boy.
He and his crew had been essential in finding the treasure and rescuing the resort.
He had then proven chivalry was in fact not dead, by allowing the rightful owners to keep it all.
Holden’s crew treated the well-deserved bonus payments as early Christmas.
As if they didn’t deserve being rewarded for their honesty.
Rae had been fairly comfortable with never asking questions she knew Holden wouldn’t answer. These mysteries were the perfect reason to maintain ironclad boundaries around their relationship. Rae assumed Holden felt the same.
Emma would be the first to say that when it came to matters of the heart, Rae was an expert at wrong ideas and worse moves.
Case in point: Three weeks earlier, she and Holden had been dining at the resort, an unseasonably warm night allowing them to be comfortable on the restaurant’s terrace.
Rae had been worrying over Emma’s current ailments being more than just another spell, something Emma had experienced as long as Rae could remember.
Which was when Holden had proposed.
Well, not in so many words.
Instead, Holden broke into her thoughts with, “Earth to Rae.”
“Sorry.” She smiled and reached for his hand. “Emma.”
He nodded. Holden was one of the few people who knew how worried she was. “Change the subject?”
“Please. I’d be so grateful, I’d make this meal my treat.”
Only he did not return her smile. His hand was ice cold, his fingers limp. “I’m becoming emotionally involved with you. I think of you all the time.”
Okay, so she had been semi-desperate for something to pull her away from the worries that framed so much of her days and nights. But this? She swallowed against a sudden queasy moment. “Holden …”
“Let me finish, Rae. Please.” His features were craven in the candlelight. Like he had reverted to his deepest nature, a half-tamed buccaneer who only partly fit into this day and age. “I really, really want to see us together. As a couple. Permanently.”
Which was when Rae lost all ability to draw air from the night.
“I need to know, Rae. Do we have a future together?”
She knew it was time for her to respond. But her thoughts were a tornadic swirl. Incoherent.
As if that particular nail needed to be hammered again, Holden added, “A lifetime kind of future.”
For an endless moment the sputtering candle and voices drifting from neighboring tables were the only sounds.
Then it all coalesced. Her thoughts, the night, the necessary response. As if somewhere in her mind’s lonely recesses Rae had actually been preparing for this very moment.
At least, that was how it seemed later. After it was over, and she had retreated to her condo. Alone.
Rae resisted the urge to pull her hand away.
She maintained the fragile bond. Her voice sounded incredibly calm to her own ears as she replied, “Holden, I have a question of my own. One that needs answering before I could possibly think seriously about the words you just used. Permanence. Future. Together.”
She heard herself clearly now, the way she was using her professional voice. Not so much impersonal as calmly insistent. And totally in control. Holden noticed it, too. He tried to pull away. But Rae held him fast.
“My question is this. Do you actually want a life’s partner? Do you even know what that means? Could you truly be happy or content or comfortable in a relationship without secrets? Would you be willing to inform said partner of every job before you and your team commit?”
In the hours and nights to come, that was the point where she always gave an internal wince. Using that legal term, said . Wrong word, wrong move. It definitely added an unnecessarily frigid note.
Holden was quiet for a time, then asked, “Anything else?”
There was, actually. “One more essential point. Would you be willing to relocate your company to Atlantic Beach? Morehead City or Beaufort could probably work, but no further away. Because this is my home. Come what may.”
Needless to say, the evening ended soon after. There were awkward silences and unfinished sentences and meaningless smiles and a polite farewell kiss to Rae’s cheek.
When it was over, Rae wondered if this was her permanent fate. To build memories around standing alone, watching all her men drive away.
Since then, Holden had not called.
Rae felt a strange sense of disconnect, meeting Brody Reames after so long.
She was far removed from the young woman who had enjoyed nine important and passionate months in his company.
Though Rae had long ago left that chapter, book, epoch, it was definitely interesting.
Brody Reames, requesting her time. As an attorney.
Eight years ago, Brody had been a wildly magnetic and incredibly handsome free spirit.
Born three centuries earlier, he would have captained a fast blockade runner, or been a seaborne smuggler, or dead.
Brody had never been much of a fighter. That of course made the pirating profession a nonstarter.
Just the same, Brody was a magical artist at handling anything with sails.
Open waters were and would always be his first love.