Legacy of the Highlands Page 9

  “I can have any woman, Alex?” Diego taunted, one dark eyebrow raised in amusement as he turned toward her. “Even you?”

  She knew he was trying to lighten the mood and decided to play along. She could use a little levity herself. “Down, boy,” she laughed and gave him a good-natured shove. “Maybe the thought crossed my mind once or twice when I was young and naïve and we all used to hang out together in college,” she admitted, “but you never seemed interested in me that way. And then things got serious with Will and…well…you were smart enough not to test your charm on me after that.”

  The moonlit night, raw emotions and exhaustion must have overridden Alex’s internal editor and she’d revealed thoughts that should have remained unspoken. He was looking at her in a way that made her uncomfortable, as if she were a particularly delicious dessert. Uh oh. Testosterone alert, she cautioned herself and willed her mouth to stay shut. The ball was back in his court and she waited to see if he’d lob a return.

  “Since we’re being honest, I’d be a fool not to want you and I’ve never been accused of being a fool.” He sounded angry, but a moment later his tone became wistful. “I’ve thought about what it would be like with us...but even back then, I knew that sex with you would be more than a casual fuck, so I didn’t try.”

  “Hmmm…you know that the f-word is one of my favorite expletives, but as a synonym for sex it’s kind of nasty, don’t you think?”

  “I actually meant it as a compliment. Let me explain,” he said amused by her reaction. “I’m sure you know women who have sex just for kicks, but for others it’s an expression of feeling. The Alex I know wouldn’t want a one night stand, a casual ‘fuck’ — although if I’ve read you wrong…I’m sure it would be a most enjoyable night for us both.” He aimed a devastating smile at her.

  “And all this time I assumed I wasn’t your type.” She glanced at him then quickly looked away, afraid to make eye contact. What was wrong with her? Why was she toying with this man? Jesus, Alex, she told herself, stop sending mixed signals before things get even more out of hand.

  “Do you want me to tell you that you’re desirable? Well, you are.” Out of patience, he hurled the words at her to make it clear they’d passed the point of wordplay and were moving into the minefield of verbal foreplay. It was up to him to end it. He’d already become aroused twice that night and if he had another erection she was going to wind up naked under him. “I want you, but long ago Will made it clear to me and any other male that looked your way that you were his and off limits. To me, Mrs. Cameron, you are still off limits. I may be many things, but I won’t dishonor my brother by taking advantage of his wife, a woman who’s obviously still in shock and not behaving like herself.”

  Diego’s jaw clenched and his face flushed with anger. Alex knew that flirting with him was like waving red in front of a bull and then expecting the taunt to be ignored. She had to stop. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve embarrassed both of us and insulted you, which is the last thing I want to do. Your friendship is too important to me. You’re right, Diego, I’m not myself. I don’t know if it’s tiredness or the wine or something else…”

  Diego didn’t look at her as he strode back onto the beach, stopping where incoming waves lapped the shore. Alex watched him pick up stones and angrily fling them into the sea while she tried to figure out why she was amping up the electricity between them. She needed to explain it to herself as well as to him.

  “We have to finish this,” she said when she caught up with him. His hands were on his hips, his expression cold and unreadable when he turned to face her. “Well?” he asked impatiently.

  “I’m not sure who I am anymore. Can you understand that? Part of me is missing and I don’t know how to be!” Tears threatened, but she was determined to get the words out. He took a step toward her. “Don’t!” She raised a hand to stop him from coming closer. “You know how Will was, how we were together. He was playful and we flirted like mad all the time. Maybe acting that way with you is a way for me to try to seem normal, like nothing’s different, although I’m very aware that you’re not Will.” She took a shaky breath before continuing. “And…dammit, I miss his body. It would feel really good to be held by a strong pair of arms right now, but I’m sane enough to know that it’s Will’s body that I want, not someone else’s, even yours.”

  Diego nodded. He didn’t say anything until they returned to the lighted path to the villa.

  “It’s late and we’re both exhausted. I’ll see you at breakfast and maybe we can go for a run.” He squeezed her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, Preciosa.”

  “And you, Diego,” she replied.

  Still wide awake hours later, Diego stared at the bedroom ceiling as if he could find an answer there. Friendship and responsibility be damned. The woman had no idea what it cost him not to pull her to the sand and make love to her. The conflicted emotions he’d forced himself to bury years ago as he’d watched his best friend and Alex exchange vows had been resurrected, and he wasn’t sure he could suppress them or even wanted to. He hoped he’d convinced her to stop toying with him. Christ, he’d never even kissed — really kissed — her and he couldn’t get that image out of his head. If he were smart, he’d fly back to Abu Dhabi or home to Buenos Aires and put a continent between them. But she said she needed him and he was a man of honor. She was his brother’s widow. He wouldn’t abandon her.

  Chapter 12

  After just a couple of hours of restless sleep Diego headed out for an early morning run. The mindlessness of hard exercise always helped him work through a problem and he had a lot to sort out. He was flattered by Alex’s flirtatiousness, but he had to believe she was only taking her feminine muscles out for a test drive, to see if her battery still held enough charge to rev a trusted male’s engine. She’d pushed his tachometer’s RPMs near the red zone and it took tremendous discipline to throttle back. But if she wanted to play it that way, if that somehow helped her confidence, he’d go along...but only to a point.

  He was drenched with sweat by the time he pushed thoughts of Alex aside and shifted his focus to Will. He was sure — more than sure, one hundred percent certain — that Serge would find the murderer, and once that happened the rage that was building inside him like a volcano would have a chance to erupt. Diego had little doubt that he’d want to kill the monster with his own hands, but not until the bastard spilled the reason for the murder and who was behind it. He didn’t trust the American justice system to mete out adequate punishment. A smart lawyer could come up with some minor technicality and the murderer could be acquitted, free to live his life while Will’s was over. This killer would pay. He’d make sure of it.

  Later that morning he and Alex sipped coffee in companionable silence in the villa’s courtyard. Showered, and refreshed by his run, Diego intently scanned The Wall Street Journal while Alex flipped through the glossy pages of the latest Ocean Drive magazine. They were at ease again, the previous night’s tension gone until Alex abruptly put the magazine down.

  “I need a big favor.”

  “Of course, anything, or at least anything within my power.” Diego raised one eyebrow, but continued to read the newspaper.

  “I’m ready to go home. Do you think your pilot can fly me up to Boston today or tomorrow or should I make a reservation?”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he said as he leaned toward her to study her face. She looked very different from the shattered woman that he’d brought to Miami. She glowed with health, but he also knew that she was still emotionally fragile.

  “Am I sure? Maybe yes, maybe no. But it’s time to face reality and my reality is Boston, not Miami.”

  “Fine. I’ll come too,” he answered matter-of-factly and stood. He’d expected that once she felt ready to break free of the villa’s protective cocoon, she’d fly away like any beautiful butterfly, but he didn’t think he was ready to let her go.

  “Why would you do that?�
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  “Why not?” he said as he stretched and yawned loudly. “Look, Alex, I’ll always regret that Will and I didn’t get things right before he died, but I have to live with that. The least I can do now is to help you. I don’t want to think of you walking into that house by yourself.”

  “But I won’t be alone. I have Francie and David.” Damn him, she’d been so sure she was ready to be on her own and now Diego was planting tiny seeds of doubt where her resolve had been.

  “I know Francesca’s a great comfort to you, but she has her work and her own life with David. And as dependable as David is, he’s not Will’s brother...and I am, whether I wanted to know it or not. We’re family. He’d expect me to watch out for you. If the situation were reversed, he would do the same for me.”

  “You obviously have this very masculine compulsion to protect me and I’m grateful, but I need you to accept that I can’t keep leaning on other people or I’ll never be able to stand on my own two feet again. I think I’m ready and I have to try.”

  “Let me come along…just as your safety net. Your place is big enough that you’ll hardly know I’m there.”

  Diego’s determination and strength were comforting, but the implication that she couldn’t take care of herself was pissing her off.

  “How about this. I’ll go home by myself. You can call me every day, or even twice a day, if that will make you feel better. I swear that at the first sign that I can’t handle it, I’ll tell you and you can ride to my rescue.” She aimed a captivating smile in his direction.

  Diego had engaged in enough negotiations to know when he was outgunned. “You win,” he finally said. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair in a way that Alex noticed was so like Will and turned his back to her as he texted his pilot. “The plane can be ready in a few hours. Does that suit you?”

  “That’s perfect. Thanks.”

  “You know, life was a lot simpler for men when women weren’t so damn independent,” he grumbled and left the room.

  Three months after Alex had fled Boston, the Navarro jet brought her back to the starting point. The pilot had radioed ahead for a car, which was waiting on the tarmac when the Gulfstream touched down. Traveling Navarro-style was painless and the limo pulled to the curb in front of her Commonwealth Avenue condo in record time.

  The trees on the wide boulevard that had been bare skeletons when she’d left Boston in early April were alive again and everything was in bloom. Hot pink azaleas had emerged after winter’s bleakness and joggers vied with bicyclists for supremacy of the road, taking advantage of summer’s long daylight hours. She knew that a few streets away, the Charles would be dotted with sailboats and Harvard crews racing their sculls.

  As she walked up the familiar steps to her spacious apartment on the top floor of a stately mansion that had been converted to condos, she wondered why she’d let her pride reject Diego’s offer to come with her. Then she reminded herself that she was strong, she could do this. All she had to do was put her key in the lock and turn it as she’d done countless times. How hard could that be? Key in lock, clockwise twist, customary click, open sesame. The door swung open and silence rushed toward her. She paused, unsure of herself. Then she took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.

  The apartment smelled musty from being closed up for months. She should have had the cleaning service come in, but there’d been no time. So she opened the windows and hit every light switch as she walked from room to room becoming reacquainted with the home she’d known so well. She saved the master bedroom for last. Its door was still closed as it had been since the night Will died. Her last memory of that room was watching him cover his naked body in faded jeans and a sweatshirt as she lay on their bed admiring him, sated from their lovemaking.

  She told herself that she had to open this door too if she was ever to move on. It was time. She took a steadying breath and turned the doorknob. The room looked as neat and impersonal as one in a hotel. Someone, probably Francie, had straightened the place up, damn her. She’d fantasized about spending her first night at home in a bed that still held Will’s scent, but the rumpled sheets from that long ago night were gone. Like so many others, that choice had also been taken from her.

  She ran to the closet, desperate to see if his clothes were still there. They were, and his belongings drew her to them the same way she’d been drawn to the man who’d owned them. She tenderly ran her fingers over each of his shirts and could almost visualize him wearing them. Finally, she slid a light blue one with frayed cuffs off a hanger and pressed the soft fabric to her face. It was only cloth, but it had touched Will’s skin and not just his scent, but his very essence was woven into it. His spirit would always remain in this room, the last place they’d been together.

  As she prepared for bed, she fished one of his unwashed T-shirts out of the hamper, pulled it on and buried herself under the covers. Depleted, she quickly fell asleep and dreamed that she was wrapped in her husband’s strong arms.

  The instant she woke the next morning, Alex realized she was starting a day totally and absolutely alone for the first time since Will died. Francie had stayed with her until the funeral and then Luisa and Diego had taken over. Her chest tightened and her heart began to pound as an adrenalin overload pumped into her bloodstream. She imagined the walls closing in and her lungs cried out for air. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t going to die, but it didn’t work. The crippling panic attacks that began in the days following Will’s murder had gradually disappeared in Florida. She’d thought they were gone for good. She grabbed the phone and hit Francie on the speed dial with trembling fingers. “Please be there, please be there,” she murmured.

  “Alex? Is that really you? You’re in Boston?”

  “Yeah. I’m having a panic attack. My heart’s racing, my hands are shaking, I can’t breathe and I think I’m going to throw up.”

  “I’m not going to tell you to relax, but I’m headed out the door on my way to you. Let’s keep talking and maybe you can try to calm down.”

  “I can’t...I can’t.” She tried sitting first on a chair then the floor, but she felt like she was going to jump out of her skin so she paced from one side of the apartment to the other. She was out of breath and her voice was tinged with hysteria as she gasped, “God, I can’t breathe!”

  “Alex, you know what this is and you know it’ll pass. You’re not going to die. Now listen to me. Listen! Do you know where your tranquilizers are? Good. Take one, then get one of those paper bags the doctor gave you.”

  Alex didn’t say anything and Francie was alarmed by her friend’s labored breathing, but then she heard a paper bag crinkling as Alex slowly breathed in and out, and she knew the hyperventilation would taper off.

  “You’re doing fine, you’re going to be okay,” Francie said as calmly as she could although the intensity of this episode scared her silly.

  “I hate this! I was fine in Florida and I was sure these damn panic attacks were gone. Oh, God, Francie. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Of course you can, but you shouldn’t expect to do it all by yourself. You’re strong, but there’s only one Wonder Woman and she’s that Linda what’s-her-name actress chick from the TV show we used to watch as kids.” Then she switched gears. “Isn’t Diego there? Didn’t he come back with you?”

  “No, he’s still in Florida. I convinced him I’d be fine and he believed me. Jeez, men can be so dense. Doesn’t he understand that I see Will everywhere I look? His shaving stuff’s in the bathroom, his towel is still on its hook, his dirty clothes are in the hamper. What am I supposed to do?”

  Only Alex could answer that question so Francie switched the focus to another subject. “Talk to me about Diego. Remember how we used to think he looked like a hot, hunky pirate? I only saw him for a few minutes at the funeral, but he still looked gorgeous and a little bit dangerous.”

  “Gorgeous? That’s a serious understatement,” Alex’s voice became more animated as t
he terror retreated. “That man is beyond hot and he is most definitely dangerous. Even the way he moves is a combination of threat and seduction. On top of that he’s kind and thoughtful and isn’t too macho to let me see him cry. Put it all together and you’ve got a lethal combination. I wouldn’t admit this to anyone but you, but for the past few days I couldn’t stop myself from flirting with him! His pheromones must be really potent. Watch out, married lady! No one is immune.”

  “I hear you. I’m sure he’ll show up in Boston at some point,” said Francie in a tone that betrayed none of her anger. She wanted to break Diego’s stupid neck. How could he have let their friend return alone to the home she’d shared with Will? And judging by the way Alex described him, it sounded like he’d tried to seduce her too. He’d supplied Francie with regular updates on Alex’s condition and he’d promised that when she decided to come home, he’d be with her. If Alex had been able to convince him that she was fine, maybe she should go directly to Hollywood to pick up her Oscar.

  “I’m crossing Commonwealth and should be in front of your door in a minute. Look out the window and buzz me in when I get there, okay?”

  “You’re the best, Francie. Have I told you that lately?”

  “No. But as that hokey song goes, ‘that’s what friends are for.’ Hey, I’m here but after speed walking I am so not schlepping up three flights of stairs. I’m gonna wait for the elevator,” she grumbled, feigning irritation, but was relieved that she didn’t need to call 911 for her friend.

  The women threw themselves into each other’s arms and held on tight. Then Francie stepped back, took both of Alex’s ice-cold hands in hers and quickly assessed her friend’s condition.