Guardian's Hope (21 page)

“Oh no, please. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Hope allowed herself to be led to the booth in the back corner of
the homey restaurant.

“No bother, now. You just sit and get your
bearings. Lucy told me what happened at the office. Jack’s got a
big mouth. I don’t think I got your name,” he said casually as the
coffee and bun were delivered.

Hope waited until the waitress left. “My
name’s Hope. Hope Parsons.” She saw no reason to lie.

He looked at her over the top of his glasses.
“So what’s your interest in our dead girl, Hope? You’re not a
reporter.”

“Oh no, sir.” She took a sip of coffee. She
told him the story she and Nico concocted about a missing sister
involved in drugs. “We heard about it when we stopped for the night
and I had to check it out. My fiancé thinks I’m crazy. She wouldn’t
come this far from the city, but I couldn’t live with myself if…”
Hope looked down in her lap. She was shaking. She wasn’t good at
lying and she was sure he would notice. She felt his hand on her
shoulder.

“Take it easy there. You’re fiancé’s got a
point about her being this far from the city, but I can see your
side, too. If somebody important to me was missing… Tell me, was
your sister sick? Other than the drugs, I mean.”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t the last time I saw
her, but…”

He took a folder from the seat and set it on
the table. “Look, I have a picture here, but you might want to come
back to the office where you can look at it in private. It’s not
pretty.”

“No, Sam, please. I’ll look at it now. I need
to know.”

Sam spread the folder flat, turned the glossy
photo toward her and slid it across the table.

Hope gasped and her hand flew to her mouth,
not at the picture of the dead woman, it wasn’t Faith, but at the
photo that still remained in the folder.

It was of a scrap of cookbook, just as Jack
Johnson had said and across it in blurred ink:

Help me - Hope

“It’s not her,” she whispered, “Please put it
away.”

“I’m real sorry you had to see that,
ma’am.”

“What will happen to her? If no one
identifies her, I mean.”

“We’ll bury her here, in the town cemetery.
We’ll give her a proper funeral. She isn’t the first lost soul this
town’s cared for, poor thing.”

“You’re good people, a good town.” At least
in death the poor girl would have people who cared.

“Yeah, for the most part. Got our troubles
same as everybody else, but when push comes to shove, we try to do
what’s right. Suppose I ought to tell you, so you don’t get shook
if you hear it. We call her Hope, because of something we found in
her pocket. It’s a good name. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I’m pleased to share my name with her.
Maybe she’ll find its meaning in Heaven.”

“I’d like to think so, ma’am. I surely
would.”

Hope finished her coffee and listened
politely as Sam told her a little about the town. She knew he
wanted her calm before getting behind the wheel and she was
grateful. They shook again and he escorted her to the car. Two men
jumped up to open the café door and Sam held the car door for
her.

“Thank you, Sam.” She could get used to this
kind of attention. “My fiancé and I will probably spend another
night here. What time does Carley’s close?”

“7:30 sharp. Get here by seven or you don’t
get fed. I’m afraid we’re not much for night life around here. If
you’re looking for a nice dinner, though, you might try the Madison
Lodge. It’s a Bed and Breakfast out on Madison Hill. Jilly does
dinner on Friday and Saturday. Probably not what you’re used to,
but it’s what serves as fancy around here.”

Hope laughed, flattered. “You’d be surprised
at what I’m used to. Good food and good company is fancy enough.
Thanks for your time, Sam. Your kindness is most welcome.”

Sam cocked his head, thought for a moment and
then shook it. “Seems like I’ve heard that phrase before. You take
care now. I’m sorry about your sister, but I’m glad our girl isn’t
yours.”

“Thanks again, Sam.”

*****

Nico paced around the room. He kept glaring
at the drapes pulled tightly across the windows as if sheer will
could make the day turn to night.

Hope had left at seven forty-five. It was now
what? Ten past ten. It couldn’t be. A half hour ago it was five
past ten and an hour before that it was ten on the dot. He had an
excellent sense of both time and direction. He knew she’d been gone
much longer than two hours. He checked the second hand. It ticked
away with methodical slowness. She should be back by now. He should
have made her take his cell phone. She was out there alone and
helpless and he was stuck here until dark. He debated going after
her, but the debate was fleeting. Contrary to popular belief and
the use of the word by the Paenitentia as a euphemism, he wouldn’t
fry in the sun, but its rays would sicken him to the point where he
could barely move, making him as useless as he was right now.

If her sister, Faith, was the unidentified
victim, Grace would be crushed and with her overdeveloped sense of
responsibility she’d carry the guilt forever. On one level she
recognized her father’s abuse and knew his house was not a healthy
place, but on another level she felt Faith should never have left,
should never had made her escape. She already thought it was her
fault that Faith ran away.

He stretched out on the bed in the same
position he was in earlier, hands behind his head, ankles crossed,
when he watched her admire herself in the mirror. How could she
doubt her beauty. She was perfection and he was her beast. When she
saw what he was, knew him for what he’d been, why would she
stay?

The sound of the key in the door had him off
the bed with his hands fisted at his side. Hope was there and
laughing. He wasn’t sure whether she read the look on his face, his
body language or his own foolish thoughts.

“Oh you stupid, stupid man. Why would I
leave? The poor tortured girl isn’t my sister. She’s being given a
decent burial by the town. I met a very nice man, the Chief of
Police as a matter of fact, who told me where we can go tonight for
dinner. It’s called The Madison Lodge or we can have breakfast at
Carley’s Café as long as our order is in by seven. Get there by
seven or you don’t get fed.”

“I’m very happy the victim was not your
sister. When did you learn this amazing news? Eight? Eight fifteen?
And after learning such joyous news? Did you stop and do some
shopping in this quaint little village while I was trapped in this
avocado dungeon? What did you buy? A sunhat perhaps? A little
plastic visor with Perryville printed across the bill? Or perhaps a
little box to keep your trinkets in? Did you check out all of the
fine dining spots this town has to offer with your charming new
friend…” Nico rattled on.

Hope almost said she was sorry, imagined
Grace’s pinch, and thought of a better response. She crossed the
short distance between them, threw her arms around his neck and
kissed him.

“That was me curing Dov and Col Syndrome,”
she said when she stepped away. “If you were worried about me,
there are better ways to show it.”

Nico slumped onto the bed. He looked
miserable. “You’re right, of course. I’m not used to being the one
left behind while someone else takes action. When you weren’t back
on time, I began to envision horrible things and there was nothing
I could do to help. I was worried and it’s not a feeling that sits
well with me.”

“You were supposed to be sleeping.”

“How could you think I would sleep when the
woman I love is out there alone doing what may be the hardest thing
in her life. What if the victim had been your sister? You would
have been alone. Who would have held you, comforted you, given you
strength? Why are you smiling like that? There’s nothing funny
about it.”

Hope was grinning like a fool. “Do you mean
it? Of course you mean it. You wouldn’t have said it if you
didn’t.”

“Said what?”

“The woman you love. You said that. I’m the
woman you love.”

Nico looked confused. “What is so remarkable
about this?”

“You never said it before.”

“I thought you knew. You seem to know
everything else that’s in my head.”

“I see wants, needs. I don’t see reasons. A
man wants a drink of water. I see that. I don’t see whether he’s
thirsty or just wants to swallow his pills. I saw your want and
need to have…” She could feel herself blushing and looked down at
her shoes. “…sex.”

And then she saw his shoes toe to toe with
hers. He lifted her chin until she was looking in his eyes.

“What you saw wasn’t my need for sex. What
you saw was my want, my need to make love to you, to worship your
body with my hands and lips. I’ve had sex. It never made me feel
like this.”

He kissed her, deeply, passionately, his
tongue probing and caressing the inside of her mouth, fluttering
across her neck, her eyes, and she kissed him back. The images
flowing through her mind took on a whole new meaning and she wanted
to grant all his wishes and desires, but a part of her was still
afraid.

“Are you ready, my precious Hope?”

“I’m ready.”

Chapter 21

Hope stood in the bathroom door and stared at
Nico standing across the room fully clothed. Only his shoes and
socks were gone.

“I thought…”

Nico put his finger to his lips and said
softly, “Don’t think. Don’t speak. Just let me look at you.”

She stood there, hands to her sides, not
knowing what else to do. She thought he might be disappointed she
wore her white gown, buttoned up and tied tightly at the neck.
She’d tried the one Grace had snuck into her bag, but she couldn’t
do it, didn’t want to add to her nervousness. Wearing it, she felt
too naked and exposed. The white gown was a touchstone of
familiarity, of security, a bastion against the chaos raging in her
body and her mind. Nico stared until her heart began to tremble and
then he smiled.

“You are the woman of my dreams,” he said a
little breathlessly.

This was not the place he would have chosen
for her first time. She deserved plush carpets, fine furnishings,
champagne served in crystal and silken sheets on her bed. She had
no idea how beautiful she was standing there in that snowy gown,
quietly offering herself to him. She deserved so much better and
yet she had chosen him.

She smiled nervously and went to the bed to
turn down the covers.

“Wait.”

She looked up and he was holding out his
hand.

“Come to me, Hope.”

She crossed the room and reached out as if
seeking support. He held her hands in his and he kissed her as he
had so many times before, softly, gently, until she was kissing him
back and the tension left her shoulders and arms. Only then, did he
pull her into his embrace. Her tongue danced with his and her heart
beat faster and her body grew warmer with need.

She didn’t flinch when he drew his body
slightly away and slipped his hand along her side up her breast,
but leaned into it. She felt her nipple pucker and stiffen against
the soft material of her gown and she moaned softly into his mouth.
His other hand moved to her other breast and another moan escaped.
His hands kneaded and prodded and he groaned with pleasure and
need. Her head rolled back and he kissed her exposed neck, sending
little shocks of fiery delight through her as he nipped and licked
his way down to the top of her gown.

With one hand wrapped securely around her
waist and the other gently pushing her shoulder, he bent her back,
forcing her breasts forward and up. His mouth found her aching
point and he suckled her through the cotton. She gasped and he
smiled. His mouth became more aggressive and he used his teeth,
gently biting down. Then sucking a tip of fabric into his mouth, he
used his teeth to rub it over the swollen and tender nipple.

And through it all, her hands moved over his
body, his back, his shoulders, his hair. Her body still quivered,
not with apprehension, but with anticipation. Until his fingers
tugged at the strings of the bow at her neck. She stiffened.

“What is it, precious?” Nico’s voice had
deepened.

Hope looked to the bed. “I-I thought we would
be under the covers. I-I don’t want…”

“What? You don’t want what?” he asked, his
voice not harsh, but insistent. He ran his finger over her bottom
lip already swollen with his kisses. “I can’t help you if you don’t
tell me.”

“I don’t want you to see me… naked I
mean.”

He hugged her to him and chuckled into her
hair. “I see you naked every day in my dreams. I see you naked in
my waking thoughts. I have felt your body next to mine. You know
this.”

She turned her head away. “You see me in your
imagination. The reality is different,” she whispered. Why couldn’t
he let her have her way in this?

He stepped away and pulled her with him to
stand before the mirror between the dressers. He stood behind her
and when she would have looked away, he held her shoulders facing
the glass.

“Look,” he said slowly, “See your body as I
do.”

She watched in the mirror as he moved his
hands to her face, fluttering his fingers around and over her eyes.
His voice was tender.

“These eyes,” he whispered by her ear,
“Smolder when I kiss you. I never knew that green could burn with
such a fiery richness and I would happily burn in their flames. And
even though you try to cover it, those same eyes glitter like green
ice when you’re angry.” He ran his finger across the bridge of her
nose. “These freckles, here, stand out when you blush and beg to be
kissed.” He chuckled deeply in his chest as his hands moved to her
mouth. “This mouth, these lips, so soft and full and inviting. Do
you know what a mouth like this can do to a man? I want to show
you, Hope, and I will.” His fingers moved to her hair, unbinding
the braid that held it.