Ripples

  Her breath stilled, unsure of his thoughts.

  “You’re stunning.”

  Nat sighed. “I-I feel so...claustrophobic.”

  “I have something that may help. A solution I think will work.”

  “No,” she replied quickly, her eyes filling with tears. “Please. Please trust me. Please don’t make me drink it.” She would if he insisted. He wouldn’t need to trick her this time. She’d do it simply because he told her to, but she didn’t want to.

  Dexter’s expression morphed from confusion to a grin. “No, bug. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  She let out a long breath, her chest falling accentuated by the tight black ribbed sweater.

  He took her hand, stepped back, and encouraged her to spin. Like the small dancer inside her childhood jewelry box, she pirouetted. His gaze lightened as he admired her curves from every angle. “Simply stunning.”

  When their eyes met again, she responded, “Should I be concerned that you seem to find me more attractive with clothes on than without?”

  “That isn’t true. You’re always ravishing. It’s that I’m not used to seeing you like this. In this...” He motioned up and down. “...you resemble the girl I watched from afar, but the difference is that I now know what’s under those clothes. Perhaps there’s something enticing in having it all hidden, in knowing that I’m the only one who knows what’s beneath the wrapping.” He traced a rib of the sweater from below her neck to her breast. “I’m the only who knows how incredible your breasts look engorged and needy with your nipples clamped.”

  Nat’s eyes fluttered as her insides tightened.

  His hand moved to her behind. “How your radiant skin glows when it’s marked by my hand or a crop.” He slowly brought his hand upward, feathering her hips, ribs, and moving along the swell of her breast. It was as if he were worshiping what he couldn’t see, making love to her with only words. When he reached her chin, he grasped it gently, causing her eyes to open. “To know how your gorgeous eyes sparkle with joy during both pleasure and pain.” He softly kissed her cheek. “And how you give me the great honor of sharing both your smiles and your tears.”

  “Dex-ter...” She elongated his name as her nipples hardened under the bra and sweater.

  “My Nat, you take my breath away every time I see you. Every time my eyes land upon you, from the first time until forever. I’m lost to you. I’ve told you that you don’t have control, but that’s not true. You hold the real power. Only you could break my heart.”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  “Whether dressed for a plane ride, a gala, or naked and broken, never doubt that I see you as anything other than ravishing and alluring because under all the wrapping, you’re lovely, inside and out.”

  Her cheeks warmed as she melted toward him, her breasts flattening against his hard chest. “I just want to make you happy.”

  “You do, simply by being you. You don’t have to try.”

  She took a step back and looked down at the clothes she detested a few minutes ago. Maybe they weren’t so bad. Shrugging, she asked, “So this is all right? You’re okay with me wearing this?”

  Dexter laughed as he once again scanned her up and down. “Today. Yes. I don’t think escorting you naked onto our plane would be appropriate. I believe people may talk.” He lifted his brow. “But once we’re in the air...?”

  “Our plane?” she asked.

  “I don’t fly commercially...unless there’s a reason. I know you chose it willingly last time you flew. How did that work out for you?”

  It was Nat’s turn to laugh. “At first, not so great. But now, I’m content.”

  “Content?”

  “More than content, Dexter. I have everything because I have you.”

  He winked. “I think from now on we’ll stick with private.”

  “Okay. Does that mean I don’t need to—?”

  Dexter touched his finger to her lips, stopping her request. He then tugged her hand leading her to the sofa near the large bedroom windows.

  Following his lead, she sat, their knees touching.

  “I told you I had something that may help you feel better. I didn’t mean the cocktail.”

  “What...?”

  He slid from the sofa to one knee.

  The small hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Their positioning was wrong. She belonged on the floor.

  “Natalie Rawlings...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, a diamond ring. The most beautiful ring Natalie had ever seen.

  “The last time we flew, I told you that one day you’d earn real rings. I also promised you that they were more exquisite than the fake ones. I hope you agree. They’ve been in my family for a few generations. What I didn’t know when I told you that was that you are more exquisite than I ever imagined. You are my love, my life, and my queen. I’ve promised to never leave you nor to ever let you go, but before we board our plane, I hope that we can make it official.

  “Natalie, will you be my wife? Will you fulfill your promise to never leave me, to always love me, and to be all that I need?”

  Before she could answer, he added, “And I will do everything in my power to be all that you need.”

  As he spoke, Natalie lost focus of the ring. All that she saw was the loving admiration from the man she worshipped, adored, and loved. He was the man who had seen her at her lowest and lifted her to heights she never previously knew existed. He was her devil and her king. She was his, body and soul. She ran her fingers through his blond hair. “Dexter, I love you.”

  “Bug, I love you too. That isn’t an answer.”

  She nodded. “It is. It’s the answer to every question you ask me for the rest of our lives. I love you. I trust you. I’m yours. I’ll be your wife and your queen, or your companion and your slave. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

  He lifted her left hand and slipped the stunning diamond onto her fourth finger. “My wife and my queen, forever.”

  Natalie nodded. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” And then she, too, slipped from the sofa to her knees. “And I’ll always bow to you.”

  Their lips came together as they sealed the deal.

  “Marry now?” she asked, not sure how she felt about it. Nevertheless, if it was what he wanted, she wouldn’t hesitate.

  “Wouldn’t you rather plan it with your mother?”

  The fear from before returned as her chin fell forward.

  He lifted her face. “Bug?”

  “Yes,” she said, “I do want that. I left them. I don’t want to take my wedding away from them too.”

  He smiled. “Then we won’t. We’ll wait.”

  “But what if they don’t want me back?”

  “I showed you the emails. Nat, they want you back.”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can face them without you.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Later, as Dexter helped Natalie with her wool coat, she thought once again about how heavy the material was on her shoulders. And then as the large front door to the villa opened to the waiting car, the fresh mountain spring air made her appreciate the covering. It also took her breath away. The bright sun upon the snow was blinding as the wind nipped her cheeks.

  Had it not been for Dexter’s strong hand in the small of her back, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to step out into the world. It was too much sensation...too much everything.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, once they were settled in the backseat of the sedan.

  Natalie nodded. “I am because you’re here.” Her green eyes opened wider. “Dexter, what’s my name?”

  He tilted his head. “Your name?”

  “My passport?”

  Dexter reached for a small handbag that he must have put into the car earlier. Opening the clutch, he removed a slender wallet. “Here.”

  Her hands trembled as she opened the clasp. In the transparent compartment was her driver’s license??
?her real one. She tugged out the credit cards, reading the name. They weren’t the ones she had before, yet each one said the same name: Natalie Rawlings.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she reached for the clutch and looked inside. Nestled within a narrow pocket was her passport, the one she’d used to board the plane over four months ago in Boston. Finally, she looked back to the man she loved. “My old credit cards...these are new?”

  “You’re mine. It’s my responsibility to take care of your needs. Your old cards were from your parents. Their job is done.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is that what you want, for your name on the cards and IDs to be that?”

  Natalie shook her head. “Not forever. Now, I do. But eventually, I’d like it to read Smithers.”

  Dexter took the wallet and passport and put them back into the bag. Handing her the purse, he said, “One day, my queen.”

  Chapter 22

  Peace cannot be kept by force;

  it can only be achieved by understanding. ~ Albert Einstein

  “They just took off? From where? Where are they landing?” Tony asked, his dark eyes focused on the man sitting on the other side of the desk.

  “Please say the United States,” Claire said, her emerald green eyes also on the man with the information.

  It didn’t matter that it was before sunrise or that Tony Rawlings and his wife had been asleep only thirty minutes ago. It didn’t matter that they were sitting in their home office in Iowa with bathrobes over their sleeping clothes.

  There was very little the three people in the room didn’t know about one another.

  They’d been a family in most senses of the word. They may not have the same last name or the same blood running through their veins, but Phil Roach knew long ago that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect the woman in this room. He loved his wife, body and soul. He also loved Claire Rawlings. Her heart had been stolen before he met her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be all he could be for her. She was the sister he never had.

  Phil had failed her in the past. He’d also killed for her and would again. And with Claire came her husband and their children. Phil had been there the horrible night Nichol came into the world. Of all the things Phil Roach had done, all the things he’d seen...that night was one of the worst of his memories.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t love Nichol like a niece. That he didn’t love them all, Nate and Natalie too. He did. He was their uncle, the one who protected and watched over them. That was why these past four months had been so difficult. Natalie wasn’t simply his employers’ daughter. She was his family, too.

  “According to the manifest filed in Graz, Austria,” Phil said, “the chartered Gulfstream G650 will eventually land in Burlington, Vermont.”

  Tony shook his head. “There’s too much in that fucking sentence. How in the hell did they stay under the radar for this long?”

  Phil looked at Tony and then Claire. “Graz, Austria, still doesn’t tell us exactly where they were. The countryside is too open. What matters now is that they’re coming back. The manifest confirms the names. Natalie is flying under her real name.”

  “She hasn’t said she’s coming home in the text messages or emails,” Claire said, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of coffee. She wasn’t planning on getting any more sleep, not that she’d had much in the last four months.

  “That’s because they don’t want a welcoming party at the airport,” Tony said, “but that’s exactly what they’re going to get.”

  Claire and Phil both looked back to Tony, silently questioning his statement.

  “What?” he asked.

  Leaving her coffee behind, Claire stood and walked a small circle. This was the same office Tony had designed for the two of them years ago—a dual office, with desks for both of them. It was their shared space, nothing like his home office when she’d first met her husband. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she finally said.

  “Why the fuck not? Our daughter’s been missing for four months.”

  “She’s been communicating,” Phil said.

  “It wasn’t her. It was Diane Yates.”

  “The text messages were from Diane,” Phil confirmed. “But not the emails. Taylor is on her way to Vermont. She’ll get visual confirmation of the passengers as soon as the plane lands. I’m just concerned...” His voice trailed away as he shared a glance with Claire.

  “Tony,” Claire interjected, “we can’t push her away.”

  Her husband stood. “Push her away? Of course not. I’m going to push that damn Smithers man away. Smithers...” His head shook.

  Once they had the name and confirmed Jonas Dexter Smithers’s identity, it didn’t take long to put the pieces they had gathered together. Yet the picture was still incomplete. There were more pieces to assemble.

  “It won’t work. You can’t,” Claire reasoned.

  “I damn well can,” his voice boomed. “I can bring our daughter home and ground her to this house if I have to.”

  She shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

  “She’s an adult,” Phil volunteered.

  “Well, she sure as hell hasn’t acted like one.”

  Claire sighed as she sat back down, her small frame landing in the plush white leather desk chair. “I’d bet all of our fortune on the fact that she has.”

  “Running away to find herself...hiding in the middle of the Alps. That’s not acting like an adult.”

  “Tony,” Claire tried to reason, “if the emails are true—even if they weren’t written by her—if they’re true, she’s in love with this man.”

  “She’s not in love. She’s lost.”

  “That isn’t your decision to make. She’s been with him now for a while. I would say our little girl has been doing adult things.”

  Tony shook his head. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Phil,” she said, ignoring Tony’s threat, “please ask Taylor to take pictures of the passengers. I want to see my daughter.”

  “When are they landing?” Tony asked.

  Phil looked down at the tablet in his hand. “The plane just left Graz. A Gulfstream G650 can make good time, and it won’t need to stop for fuel on the way. They should land in Burlington in...” He looked at his watch. “...close to twelve hours. That should get them to their destination by near 5:00 PM our time, 6:00 PM in Vermont.”

  “That’s plenty of time,” Tony said. “Claire and I will be dressed and ready to fly in an hour. I’ll call for the plane.”

  Claire shook her head. “Please listen. I hope I’m wrong, but all I can base my feelings on is that I’m her mother—”

  “And I’m her father.”

  “I know what it’s like to be in love with someone whom your family doesn’t like.”

  Tony’s brown eyes darkened. “This isn’t the same.”

  “Of course not, but no matter how they met—on the plane, during her travels...whatever—the fact remains that if she’s in love with him, her father stealing in and whisking her home won’t stop her feelings. It won’t stop his.”

  “If he’s dead, it will.”

  “Tony.”

  Her husband took a deep breath and sat, leaning back.

  Claire continued, “What are we going to do, lock her in her room?”

  His eyes shut.

  “I’m serious. I love Natalie. I will not lose my daughter again. If she’s back in the States and we can be sure where she is and that she’s safe, we need to wait.”

  “I’ve never been a patient man,” Tony said.

  Claire’s gaze swept to Phil, seeing the same grin on him as she had growing over her own lips. They both knew Tony’s statement to be true. He was a lot of things but patient wasn’t one of them. “Let’s be sure it’s really her. Let’s be sure she’s at least back in the country.”

  “I know it isn’t Diane,” Phil said. “Taylor called her as soon as we got the report. Diane was told to mail all Natalie’s documents to an addr
ess in Germany. We tracked the address when she told us. It was an attorney’s office. No one there claims to have a client by the name of Smithers. No one remembers receiving a package and then resending it. Despite the tracking numbers, they all seem to have a severe case of amnesia.”

  “Why didn’t I know about that?” Claire asked as Tony sat forward.

  “It didn’t mean anything. We were waiting to learn more,” Phil said.

  “What else haven’t you told us?” Tony asked.

  “Jonas Smithers doesn’t use his first name. He uses his second, Dexter. That’s why the name wasn’t matching with the name mentioned in her emails. The emails were correct—Dexter. He’s a weather-derivatives trader by profession. He also inherited his parents’ fortune when they died. His father, as you know, was very successful in real estate.”

  Tony shook his head. “I didn’t know. I lost track of him. I’ve been a little wrapped up in all things Rawlings.”

  “The Rawlings Corporation offices in Boulder, Colorado, are housed in a building owned by JS Enterprises.”

  “JS is Jonas?”

  “Was,” Phil said. “He died two years ago. His wife, second wife, was killed in an automobile accident a few months later. The son seems to be doing very well managing his parents’ portfolio. He doesn’t do it alone; he has a team. But it’s the weather-derivatives where he’s making a name for himself.”

  “Weather-derivatives?” Claire asked. “I studied meteorology, and I don’t know what that is.”

  “I admit I had to do some research,” Phil said. “Basically, weather is a tradable commodity.”

  “How do you trade weather?”

  Phil shook his head. “It has to do with qualifying weather in terms of averages, attaching a dollar amount, and packaging it.”

  “I don’t understand,” Claire said.

  “It doesn’t fucking matter,” Tony added. “The point is that Jonas’s son is wealthy. We can’t buy our daughter back with money.”