No Desire Denied Page 10

  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Reid expected her to join them so that he could escort her up to her room and “file her away” for the night.

  Not happening. To distract herself from the flutter of nerves in her stomach, she moved closer to Eleanor’s portrait. There was a part of her that envied the woman for having a lover who simply swept her away. The old Nell would have been thrilled by that. Recalling her aunt’s comments on Eleanor’s strength, she studied the painting more closely. At first glance, Eleanor appeared the same: beautiful, serene and very happy. But there was no denying the look of determination in her eyes, the lift to her chin.

  All Nell needed was half the guts it had taken Eleanor to leave her family and home in Scotland to run away with her true love. Not that she intended to run away with Reid. All she wanted to do was give in to the yearning that had been growing inside her since the first time she’d seen him.

  If Eleanor had felt this way about Angus, no wonder she’d risked everything to be with him. Again Nell checked the doorway to the main parlor. No sign of Reid. She glanced back up at the portrait and whispered, “At least you didn’t have to deal with a reluctant lover.”

  * * *

  REID WAITED UNTIL Daryl had disappeared around the curve of the landing before he turned and walked toward the open door of the main parlor. He’d successfully avoided being alone with Nell since they’d arrived at the castle. Not that the strategy had helped him control his preoccupation with her. While they’d been discussing the case for that last hour, he’d entirely lost the thread of the conversation. Twice.

  That wasn’t like him at all. In his job, he couldn’t afford to lose his focus. Even when she wasn’t looking at him, he still felt her in every pore of his being, and he felt that same sense of connection, which bordered on recognition, that he’d felt when they’d stood together beneath the stone arch seven years ago.

  The Nell he’d known when he was ten was simple. The Nell he was coming to know was complex. He liked the way she looked—the delicate features, the fair skin, the hair that reminded him of spun gold. He also was coming to like and admire the way her mind worked. The problem was, the longer he was with her, the more he learned about her, the more fascinating she became.

  He half hoped that she’d follow them out into the hallway, so that he could escort her safely up to her room and retire to his own. Separation and some distance were what he needed.

  Right.

  He wasn’t a man who lied to himself. Half hoped were two telling words. There was a part of him that had wanted her to linger in the parlor so that he could be alone with her. Even though it meant playing with fire. Reid shoved his hands into his pockets. That wasn’t like him, either. At least it hadn’t been like him in a long time. Not since he and his brothers had been eight and they’d literally played with some matches they’d found in a kitchen drawer. Their father had been away, their mother working in her office. And she’d left him in charge. Her words had been, “Don’t let your brothers burn down the house—or worse.”

  Cam had initiated the disaster by striking the first match. Then Duncan, usually the one to remain on the sidelines, had joined in. Finally Reid had succumbed to the hypnotic power of the bright flames. Their little adventure had progressed quickly from striking individual matches to starting a small blaze in a wastebasket which had severely damaged one wall of kitchen cabinets before the fire department arrived on the scene to put it out.

  Even more than the scorched wood, he regretted the look of disappointment in his mother’s eyes.

  But he wasn’t eight years old anymore. Dammit. Nell was changing him. There was something in her that tempted him to give in to that streak of recklessness that he suspected he and his brothers had inherited from his father. He wasn’t sure he could resist her any more than he’d been able to resist striking that match on that long-ago afternoon. What he was absolutely certain of was that, if he started this particular fire, disaster lay ahead.

  He didn’t move into the room when he spoke. “You’re not ready to call it a night yet.”

  “No.” She flicked him a glance, then turned her attention back to the painting. “I want to start looking for the necklace.”

  “Tonight?”

  “The clock is ticking. And this portrait is part of the story. For years it’s been the only evidence that the sapphires exist. I think there’s something in it that might provide a clue.”

  Intrigued, Reid joined her in front of the painting. “Why do you think that?”

  “It’s always been called her wedding portrait, but that can’t be what it really is. True, she’s wearing a white dress and there are flowers in her hair. But she and Angus ran away.” Nell gestured to the upper right-hand corner of the painting. “You can see the stone arch that Angus built for her. So she sat for this portrait after they’d been here awhile. In my book, they married onboard the ship that brought them here. I had them renew their wedding vows beneath the arch once it was completed.”

  “In celebration of their first anniversary,” Reid murmured.

  She turned to stare at him. “You read It’s All Good?”

  He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Several times. I enjoyed it. Their story has always intrigued me, and you captured the heart of it in your book.”

  When she said nothing and continued to stare at him, he said, “You seem surprised that I enjoyed it.”

  “I’m trying to imagine you reading a children’s story.”

  He smiled then. Because he wanted badly to do more than touch her hair, he dropped the strand and turned to the portrait. “Eleanor has always fascinated me. That summer when you and your sisters first showed us this painting and told us her story, my brothers immediately focused on finding the missing jewels. I was struck by the woman.”

  He had to wonder if that was because, even then, she made him think of the woman Nell would become. They had the same gold hair, pale skin, delicate features, stubborn chin. And the mouth. Eleanor’s lips were slightly parted as if they were just waiting for a lover’s kiss. His mind slipped back to that moment in the car when he’d been staring at Nell’s mouth and nothing had mattered to him but kissing her. And more.

  He could so easily have more. She was standing close enough that, if either of them moved, he would feel the brush of her body against his. If he turned ever so slightly, he could pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t resist, and he could once more lose himself in the explosive heat of her response. Lose himself in her.

  He shifted his gaze to the necklace. That was what he should be thinking about. “Perhaps the painting does hold the key. If we assume she was the one who hid them—”

  “She did,” Nell interrupted. “I’m certain of it.”

  “Why? Why not just pass them on to her heirs?”

  Nell frowned at the portrait. “According to the story that was passed down, the jewels were Eleanor’s dowry. But Deanna Lewis told Piper that they didn’t belong to Eleanor, that she and whoever her partner was had a stronger claim. Maybe Eleanor felt the same way—that the jewels really did belong to someone else. After all, she eloped with Angus. That suggests that he may not have been someone her family approved of.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Deanna and Gwendolen may hold the answer.”

  He glanced at her. “What about your theory that you and your sisters are meant to find them? How does that fit?”

  “I don’t know exactly. But if I were going to hide something as beautiful as those jewels, I’d leave a clue. What better place to put it than in this portrait? Maybe that’s why she had it painted in the first place and why she wore the sapphires. It’s probably why this painting has survived all these years.”

  “Good point.” Reid used her theory to study the portrait through a new lens. This time instead of focusing on Eleanor and her jewels, he concentrated on the other details. “She’s sitting in the garden on a bench. There’s a pile of books or not
ebooks next to her.”

  “Sketch pads, I’m betting. She drew,” Nell said. “All of the illustrations in my book are based on her sketches.”

  “I read about that. The two of you share a talent for bringing images vividly to life. The location of that spot is somewhere in the gardens within sight of the stone arch, but I don’t recall that latticework directly behind her.”

  “My father believed she was sitting in the gazebo,” Nell said. “The wood structure rotted away years ago, but the stone foundation is still there.” She sent him a smile. “You should remember it. You spent a day there playing tea party with me.”

  “What I remember is a pile of rocks.”

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Nell took a step back. “And so is the clue to the location of the necklace if we could just see it.”

  Still intrigued, he continued to study the painting. To hell with talking her into going to bed and getting a fresh start in the morning. His best strategy was to indulge her desire to be independent and encourage her to take the lead. And maybe it was time he surprised her. “If your theory is right and Eleanor is pointing the way to the jewels in this portrait, you’ll want to start at the stone arch. Let’s go out there right now.”

  She turned to stare at him. “I was going to suggest that, but I was sure you’d argue.”

  He grinned at her. “Waste of time. You were going to make the point that, as long as the autograph lady and company are depending on you to lead them to the necklace, you’ll be safe. And if someone is out there watching, they’ll see you’re doing exactly what they want.”

  She shot him a frown as they moved out of the room. “I don’t like that you can practically read my mind.”

  The feeling was mutual, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Instead, he said, “Your mind works in a very logical way.”

  Her smile held a hint of mischief. “Not always. I think it’s time that I filled you in on the fantasy box that my sisters and I buried in the stones a long time ago.”

  9

  “I’VE ALWAYS LOVED the gardens,” Nell said. “Especially at this time of night. All I have to do is take a breath and I can almost taste the roses and the freesias.”

  All Reid could smell was Nell, and his desire to taste her again was growing with each step they took. In spite of his belief that their trip to the stone arch put her in minimal danger, he still kept himself alert.

  The full moon gleamed off the lake, and stars, undimmed by city lights, sparkled in the clear sky overhead. The illumination provided by Mother Nature made them fairly visible to anyone who might have stationed themselves in the hills that jutted up on three sides of the grounds. There could be someone up there right now, keeping an eye on the castle and specifically on Nell’s movements.

  When a sudden turn in the path caused her to brush against his arm, the desire that simmered constantly now in his blood shot to full boil. His awareness, previously attuned to their surroundings, narrowed to her as swiftly and dramatically as a spotlight on a stage. God, he wanted to touch her, really touch her. To slip that drab little suit off her and let his hands slowly, very slowly, mold every inch of her. Temptation grew as he imagined just how quickly he could edge her off the path and into the cover provided by the flowering trees that filled this particular part of the gardens. He wanted to give in to it—to throw caution to the wind, pull her into the shadows and just take her. It would be wonderfully crazy, and the certainty that she wouldn’t resist him—that she’d deny him nothing—gave an unprecedented power to the images filling his mind. He might have made them a reality, if they hadn’t stepped into the clearing in front of the stone arch.

  Reid had to blink against brightness of the floodlights trained on the stones. They’d been installed after someone had planted a bomb inside the arch, once the first earring had been discovered. That person had nearly killed Alba. The sudden memory dragged him back to the real danger that still threatened Nell and her family.

  When she started forward, he took her arm. “Let’s keep to the edge of the light until we have to step into it.”

  “This is the first time I’ve seen them lit up like that. I think Angus would have liked it.”

  Reid recalled the first time he’d seen the stone arch. At ten he’d been impressed with the structure. It was a tunnel, really—ten feet long, ten high in the center and eight feet wide. He and his brothers had measured it off. It impressed him no less now that it was lit up like a monument. He was even more impressed with the man who’d built it. It had lasted two hundred years, and it would be here for years to come. So would the legend. “Not many men leave behind such a legacy.”

  “It’s a real tribute to the power of love,” Nell said.

  “That kind of love is rare,” Reid said. “A lot of people want it, but very few achieve it.” He should tell her again that it wasn’t in the cards for them. She had to want the rarified kind of love.

  His mother certainly had. And now it seemed she’d found it with A.D., and Nell’s aunt and sisters had found chances at their own happy-ever-afters. A.D. was a good man. So was Daryl. Cam and Duncan were good men. They’d never promise what they didn’t think they could deliver on. But if the stats held true, two out of the four of those couples would be denied what they most desired. That’s what he needed to tell her.

  Before he could, she said, “I couldn’t agree more. Even the few who are lucky enough to find true love can have it snatched away and be nearly destroyed by the loss. My father’s a prime example of that. When my mother died, my sisters and I lost him, too. He was so devastated that he hid away in his rooms painting. I was too young to understand at the time, but when I finally did, I decided that true love isn’t worth the risk. Not to mention the drama and the stress. And even with the legend, there are no guarantees.”

  Hadn’t he always felt the same way? Why did it bother him that she’d simply voiced his own assessment? Or perhaps he was just annoyed by the impossibility of arguing with someone who shared his opinion.

  Nell took a deep breath and told herself to shut up. She’d made her point, and she was starting to babble. The walk through the garden had taken its toll on her concentration. She’d lied about loving the scent of the roses and the freesias. She’d barely noticed them compared to Reid. He smelled of soap: simple, basic. Wonderful. When he’d accidentally brushed up against her arm, she’d lost her train of thought completely.

  Not good.

  She needed to keep her head as clear as one of her heroines if she was going to achieve all her goals tonight. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she fingered the two slips of pink paper that had been burning a hole there all evening. The action helped her refocus.

  They reached the far end of the clearing where the distance to the opening of the stone arch was only about twenty-five yards away. She needed to get to the fantasy box. “My sisters and I used to sneak out here late at night when we thought Aunt Vi was asleep. The instant we stepped out of the gardens, we always used to race for the stones.” She flicked him a look. “Bet I can beat you.” She took off.

  The element of surprise should have guaranteed her a victory. But Reid was fast, his reflexes honed to perfection. He clamped a hand on her arm within the first ten yards, and they ended the race in a tie. When they finally stood beneath the arch, she was breathing hard. He wasn’t.

  “You’ve got to remember to let me do my bodyguarding thing.” His hand was still wrapped around her arm, but his grip was no longer as firm. So there was no reason at all for her to feel the pressure of each one of his fingers. Even less reason for her knees to turn to water.

  Then she made the mistake of looking at him. He’d turned to scan the clearing, and the memory of him on their parent’s wedding day superimposed itself over what she was seeing now. He’d been standing in profile that day, too. His hair had been longer then and more tousled. She’d wanted so much to touch it. To touch him. The urge had been so acute that if the bridal couple hadn
’t separated her from him, she was sure she would have.

  Nothing separated them right now. They were alone. She could do exactly what she’d wanted to do that afternoon seven years ago, what she’d started to do in the hospital parking lot. All she had to do was lift her hand. But when she pulled it out of her pocket, she was holding the two slips of pink paper, and her grip on reality and her goals came back into focus. First things first.

  “Nell...”

  She met his eyes, and for a moment she wavered. It would be so easy to step into his arms and kiss him again. So easy to just lose herself in that whirlwind of excitement that was waiting for her. She certainly wanted to. But if she did, they’d do more than kiss. Then he’d have second thoughts again, just as he had in the car. Worse still, he’d regret it. That was the kind of man she was dealing with. A man who lived by a very strict code. A man who didn’t want to hurt her. A protector.

  She was pretty sure that the fantasy she’d begun all those years ago was the perfect solution. But first she had to set up the story line.

  “I have to tell you about these pink slips and the fantasy box,” she said. “From the time we were little, my sisters and I used to sneak out here, write down our goals and dreams and put them into this metal box.” Turning, she dropped to her knees and ran her hand along the base of the arch. “I’ll show you.”

  Reid stayed right where he was, hoping to get a grip on his resolve. And his sanity. A moment ago, he’d nearly lost both. Dragging his eyes away from Nell, he glanced around the stone arch.

  It would be dangerous and reckless to drag her into the shadows in the garden and make love to her. But to do the same thing beneath the arch that Angus MacPherson had built for his true love? That was just crazy.

  Saved by two pieces of folded pink paper. And a box of fantasies?