Hidden Talents (26 page)

“Bad blood always tells, doesn't it?” Caleb held out his hand to Serenity. “Let's get out of here, Serenity.”

Tears stung Serenity's eyes. It was like being on board the
Titanic
, knowing what was going to happen but being unable to stop the impending disaster. Slowly she put her hand in Caleb's.

He strode toward the door, hauling her along in his wake.

“She's done this to you.” Franklin was almost hopping up and down in his agitation. “It's all her fault.”

“I'm sorry,” Serenity whispered.

“I'm not,” Caleb said. He nodded brusquely at Dolores, who had appeared in the doorway. “Goodbye, Dolores.”

“Please don't do this, Caleb,” Dolores begged.

“I have to do it,” Caleb said. He paused to glance back at Roland. “You shouldn't have pushed me. I'd probably have gone on paying the blackmail forever, you know. I'd have continued to do my best to give you everything you wanted. But you made one mistake. You tried to come between me and the one thing I want.”

Roland gazed at Caleb with white-hot fury burning in his eyes. “Go on, get out of here. Take your little slut and don't ever come back.”

Caleb turned without a word and started through the door into the hall. Serenity tugged sharply on his hand and frantically dug in her heels.

“Wait,” she said. She looked back at Roland. “It doesn't have to end like this. This isn't the past. You can make it end differently this time.”

“Come on, Serenity,” Caleb muttered. He yanked her forward into the hall.

“Just a second.” She clawed frantically at the edge of the doorway, her eyes still locked with Roland's. “Come for dinner on Thursday. Day after tomorrow. Please. I'll make vegetable curry. You'll love it.”

“Serenity, for crying out loud.” Caleb pulled hard on her wrist and managed to break her death grip on the doorjamb.

“Witt's End,” Serenity called as Caleb dragged her down the hall. “An hour's drive. Once you get there, just ask anyone where I live. If it snows, stop in Bullington. We'll drive down the mountain and get you. I've got chains.”

“Damn it, Serenity, shut up.” Caleb had the front door open now.

“We'll be expecting you, Mr. Ventress,” Serenity yelled. “Six o'clock. Come early, if you like. You can stay the night. I've got room.”

Caleb yanked her out onto the porch.

“Christ.” He slammed the front door shut and started down the steps to the Jaguar. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Trying to change the past.”

“Forget it. Some people don't want the past changed.”

T
HE SOFT STRAINS OF A WALTZ INVADED
S
ERENITY'S
troubled dreams. The music seemed closer than it ever had before.

She cuddled the infants in her arms and soothed them gently while she waited for the door of the sunlit white room to open
.

Serenity awoke with a start to find herself alone in the bed. She raised herself on one elbow. A glance at the clock on the table told her it was three in the morning. She frowned. The distant waltz continued to play even though the dream had vanished.

Serenity pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. The beaded curtain shuddered, creating a symphony of crickets and bells. She slid her feet into her slippers and reached for her robe. The tinny notes of the waltz grew louder as she went down the short hall to the living room. The cottage was chilly. There was very little heat from the banked fires of the wood stove.

The soft glow of a lamp greeted her as she came to a halt in the arched entrance to the main room. Caleb was seated on the sofa, dressed only in a pair of jeans. His hair was tousled from an obviously restless sleep. His feet were bare, in spite of the cold.

He sat leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Crystal Brooke's jewelry box was open on the coffee table in front of him. He was absorbed by the jerky movements of the tiny dancers.

“I didn't mean to wake you,” Caleb said without taking his eyes off the jewelry box.

“It's all right. I wasn't sleeping very well, anyway.” Serenity padded softly into the room and sat down beside him on the sofa.

“That's my fault, too. I shouldn't have subjected you to that scene at my grandfather's house.”

“I was the one who insisted on accompanying you.”

Caleb stared at the tiny dancers. “He won't come for dinner on Thursday, you know.”

“If he doesn't, I'll invite him again for Sunday.”

“You're wasting your time.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Serenity tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robe and leaned forward to study the jewelry box. The newspaper clippings tucked inside the main compartment were still neatly folded. “What are you thinking about?”

“Something Franklin said today.”

“He said a lot of things today. He certainly seems to think he has a duty to keep the past fresh and alive. What a sad, bitter man.”

“Sad and bitter?”

“That's the way he strikes me,” Serenity said. “There was a strange look in his eyes today when he talked about your father and about Patricia.”

“I think Franklin was always envious of my father. He's certainly told me often enough what a beautiful woman Patricia Clarewood was. A perfect lady, as Aunt Phyllis likes to remind me. She always referred to her as the woman who should have been my mother.”

“A woman who may have been having an affair behind your father's back,” Serenity mused.

“Roland and Franklin are right. Even if Patricia was involved with another man, that's no excuse for my father's actions. He should have divorced Patricia before he got Crystal Brooke pregnant.”

“Well, as I said earlier today, that's in the past. Let it stay there, Caleb.”

“I've tried.” Caleb stared down at the tiny waltzing figures as the music came to a halt. “But for some reason the past has come back to haunt me.”

“Because of me.” Serenity sighed heavily. “If it hadn't been for me, that terrible scene between you and your family today would never have taken place.”

“That's not true.” Caleb turned his head to look at her. His eyes were brilliant. “Don't ever say that again. I've been living with ghosts since the day Roland took me to Ventress Valley. I'd grown so accustomed to living with them that I was starting to become one myself.”

Serenity stared at him. “Oh,
Caleb
. What do you mean?”

“Forget it.” Caleb picked up the jewelry case and rewound the music box. “It doesn't matter any longer.”

“But it does matter.” She put her hand on his arm. “Do you still feel like you're turning into a ghost?”

“No.” He set the jewelry case back down on the table. The little figures began to jiggle as the waltz started. “I feel very much alive these days.” He smiled faintly. “I haven't felt this alive in years. And it's all because of you.”

He reached for Serenity and pulled her into his arms. The explosive passion in him inundated her. She was caught up by the tide of masculine energy and power. It swept her away on a great wave of surging excitement.

“
Caleb
.”

“You can't even imagine how good this feels. How good my name sounds when you say it like that.” Caleb feel back against the sofa cushions, taking Serenity with him. “How good it is to want a woman as much as I want you.”

“I'm glad you want me.” Serenity sprawled across his bare chest and twisted her hands in his hair. The urgency in him unlocked a tumultuous need deep within her. She was hot and breathless with it.

Caleb kissed her hungrily on the mouth. The kiss grew deeper, until she was shuddering in response. Then his lips slid down to her throat. He yanked at the sash of her robe. When the garment fell open, he slid his hands inside, pushed the hem of her nightgown to her waist and cupped her buttocks. His fingers sank eagerly into her skin, squeezing gently.

Serenity sucked in her breath. She felt his leg shift beneath her. He raised his knee. The rough fabric of his jeans slid along the inside of her thighs, burning her skin, opening her to his touch. The bulge of his confined erection throbbed against her belly.

“You're so wet, I can feel the dampness right through my jeans,” Caleb muttered. “I want you now. Before I lose my mind.”

She smiled down at him.

He sat up abruptly, picked her up in his arms and rolled to his feet beside the sofa. Serenity kissed his shoulder and threaded her fingers through the hair on his chest.

Caleb rounded the arm of the sofa and took two strides toward the hall. He stopped, groaning. “Hell, I'm not going to make it as far as the bedroom.”

He set Serenity on her feet. She could barely stand. She braced herself against the back of the sofa, a hand on either side of herself, seeking support. Metal scraped on metal, the sound of a zipper being lowered.

She pushed hair out of her eyes and was instantly riveted by the sight of Caleb's heavily aroused body. He already had the foil packet open. In a matter of seconds he was ready for her.

“I want to be inside you.” His voice was a harsh whisper. His gaze was stark with sensual hunger.

He crowded close, moving between her legs. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her. Serenity gasped and clutched the back of the sofa more tightly. He held her eyes in an unbreakable bond as he drove himself deeply into her.

Serenity arched and cried out softly as he became a part of her. Her head fell back. He kissed her throat, tightened his grip on her hips and began to move within her. The urgency in him fueled her own need. She felt the fantastic curling sensation grip her lower body. Instinctively she clenched herself around him. Her nails dug into the fabric of the sofa.

“Put your legs around me,” Caleb muttered against her throat. “Hold on tight. Yes. Just like that. Like that, oh, God,
yes
.” He shifted one hand to the small. throbbing bud between her legs.

She screamed softly as the small convulsions began.

Caleb went rigid as his climax tore through him an instant later. Serenity felt his body shudder again and again.

Somewhere in the distance she heard the strains of a waltz.

Closer now. So very close.

A long time later Caleb stirred on the sofa. He frowned, aware that the room had grown colder. He ought to get up and stoke the wood stove, he thought. Better yet, he probably should get Serenity and himself into bed beneath a pile of quilts. They were both going to freeze if they stayed here on the sofa much longer.

He felt her wriggle on top of him. One sleek leg slipped between his thighs. A plump little nipple moved against his chest. Caleb smiled. On second thought, he decided, there wasn't much chance of either of them freezing. The heat that they generated together was enough to power a large chunk of the Northwest in the middle of winter.

Damn, but he felt good after making love to Serenity. There was nothing else in the world that felt as good as this
.

“Caleb?”

“Yeah?” He speared his fingers into her sexy hair.

She raised her head and looked down at him with her unsettling, fairy eyes. “You never got around to telling me what you were thinking about earlier. Something to do with Franklin. What was it that got you out of bed in the first place?”

Caleb remembered the jewelry box on the coffee table. He turned his head on the cushion to stare at it. The music had stopped several minutes ago. The dancers hovered motionless above the old clippings that held the ghosts of his past.

Disturbing thoughts trickled back into his head, driving out the sultry satisfaction that had held him in temporary thrall.

“I couldn't sleep because I kept thinking about something that Franklin said. About the two transactions he said he'd had with Asterley.”

“What about them?”

“He claimed that on both occasions he had followed instructions to the letter.” Reluctantly Caleb eased the soft, inviting warmth of Serenity aside. He tucked her snugly into her robe and sat up beside her. “He drove his car to a mall, parked, and went inside.”

“And left the money in the glove compartment.” Serenity tightened her sash. “I suppose it's possible Ambrose drove to the Ventress Valley Mall on two occasions and arranged to collect blackmail money, but I just can't bring myself to believe he did something like that.”

Caleb said nothing for a moment. Then he stood and went over to the wood stove. He opened the glass door and tossed a piece of wood inside. He walked back to the sofa, sat down, and contemplated the jewelry box again.

“I can believe he did it once,” Caleb finally said softly. “But not twice.”

“I don't understand.”

Caleb picked up the jewelry box and gazed into the little mirror that was glued to the torn blue satin inside the lid. “If we're to believe Uncle Franklin—a dicey proposition, at best, given his recent track record—he had dealings with Asterley on two occasions.”

“So?”

“So, if he told me the truth the morning that he called me here, the second demand from the black-mailer came after Asterley died.”

“Good grief. You're right.”

“According to Franklin, someone collected money from the glove compartment of his car long after Asterley took the fall down those stairs.”

Serenity sat very still, her hands fisted in the ends of the robe's sash. “There do seem to be a lot of ghosts floating around these days.”

“I've started to notice that myself.”

“As you said, we can't be certain that Franklin was telling the truth about being blackmailed, let alone the timing of the second five-thousand-dollar payoff,” Serenity said cautiously.

“No,” Caleb agreed. “He could have been lying about that. But he had already confessed to paying five thousand dollars for the pictures in the first place. Why lie about the second transaction?”

“For some reason,” Serenity said, “I didn't get the impression Franklin was lying about either transaction. But you know him far better than I do. What do you think?”

Caleb met her eyes in the small mirror. “I didn't stop to think about it at the time. There were other things going on.”

Serenity shivered. “That's true.”

“At that moment during our confrontation, Franklin was completely preoccupied with the fact that the whole thing was starting to unravel on him. He'd been caught in one lie and he had nothing to gain by continuing to embroider the story. What would have been the point?”

Serenity nodded. “He felt he was justified in his actions, anyway. After all, the photos existed. True, his clever little scheme to blackmail me had fallen apart, but everyone in the family was still nicely shocked by those pictures. He'd accomplished all he could have hoped to accomplish.”

“Two blackmail transactions, one before Asterley's death and one afterward.” The possibilities spun relentlessly through Caleb's head. “Two blackmailers or one?”

Serenity frowned. “You think that someone other than Ambrose was behind this whole thing right from the start?”

“It's possible.”

“That makes more sense to me. Ambrose just wasn't the blackmailing type. A mooch, yes, but not a blackmailer.”

“We're back to our earlier conclusion,” Caleb said. “Someone else besides Asterley knew about those photos, about me and about my past.”

“What worries me the most is that your uncle seemed convinced that he was dealing with Ambrose Asterley both times. And Ambrose was the only one who could have had the pictures.”

“All right, so the blackmailer somehow got hold of the photos and posed as Ambrose. Franklin never actually met him in person, remember? He wouldn't have recognized Asterley even if he had.” Caleb thought about it. “We're talking about a man, though. We know that much. Franklin said it was a man's voice on the phone.”

“I'm not sure about that. Some women have deep voices.”

“Jessie, for instance.”

Serenity shook her head quickly. “No, I just can't believe she would do something like that.”

Caleb's brows rose. “Face it, Serenity, you aren't going to be able to believe that any of your friends here in Witt's End are guilty.”

“True.”

“Jessie knew Asterley better than anyone, according to you and everyone else around here. He left everything to her. As his only close friend and heir, she had access to his files before and after his death.”

“I just can't imagine Jessie resorting to blackmail. She's one of the few people in Witt's End who makes a decent living from her art.”

“If Asterley sold the first set of pictures for cash for photo equipment, he might have confided in Jessie.” Caleb said. “After he died, she may have seen the potential of the situation and decided to pick up where he had left off.”

“
No
.”