In all ways, the store appeared closed. While I’d seen merchandise in the cases as we walked through the showroom, the customary lights were off, windows shuttered, and doors locked. The only exception was the fluorescent bulbs within this waiting area, flickering above and giving off a low hum.
“What else does he do?” I asked David in a whisper.
“He?”
I tilted my head toward the room in the rear. “Mr. St. Pierre. This can’t be his main business if it’s closed on a weekday.”
“Ma’am, Mr. St. Pierre is a respected jeweler in these parts.”
I hummed.
This wasn’t my first brush with illegal activity. I lived amongst it for the last seventeen years. The men keeping guard weren’t here to protect gold, diamonds, and precious gems. As I scanned the unassuming surroundings, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more around me than met the eye.
A shiver snaked down my spine, cooling my skin. I pulled the light sweater I’d worn with the green dress over my shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to ward off the uneasy feeling.
I peered down at my watch, seeing that it was nearly noon. I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer this would take and if it would be enough for my rescue.
There was no way for me to know if Patrick was on his way.
Yesterday, he had taken Ruby to Chicago.
He’d told me that in a message.
Maybe it was wishful thinking to believe he could make it back to Texas in time to rescue me from this outing. I began thinking about Marion’s mention of plans. He’d said we had reservations at an elite club in Dallas. As long as I wore the necklace, Patrick should be able to find me there too.
It seemed that anyplace away from the ranch would be better.
The vibration of my phone shattered the tense silence of the waiting area.
Removing it from my purse, I looked at the screen: MARION.
I tilted the screen toward David. “I need to take this.”
He nodded as I slipped from the chair toward the darkened front showroom and hit the call button. “Hello.”
“Come back to the ranch.”
There was something unsettling in his tone.
“We will. Mr. St. Pierre must be nearly done.”
“Now. The ring can wait. Fucking Andros lied to me.”
I took another step toward the cases of jewelry. “What are you talking about? Is this about Ruby?”
A movement from the back of the store caught my attention. When I turned, the doorway to the waiting area was filled by a tall body. The bright backlight shone around him, making the visibility of his features difficult to see. Nevertheless, I knew the man in the doorway wasn’t David but one of St. Pierre’s guards.
“I’m taking a call,” I said.
It was then I saw past his girth to the room behind. My heart rate rocketed as I took a step back, falling against one of the glass cases. Lying upon the ground was my bodyguard, the man who was sent to protect me.
“Oh! Marion, David.”
“Ma’am,” the large man said in an eerily calm voice.
“What’s happening?” Marion bellowed.
“David is…” I looked to the man. “Is he dead?”
Without speaking, his head shook.
“Madeline, tell me what is happening. Let me speak to David.”
“M-marion,” I stuttered. “I’ve...” The large man came closer.
“Madeline.” Marion’s voice was raised.
With my behind pushed against the glass case, there was no place for me to go. “Please,” I said to the man.
“Your phone, ma’am. Give me your phone.”
My head shook as I pulled it to my chest, muffling the sound of Marion’s voice. Suddenly phones began to ring. The shrill sound was coming from the land lines for the store as well as one from the back, probably Mr. St. Pierre’s cell phone. “Don’t answer them,” the other guard man yelled.
None of this made sense.
“Your phone,” he said, extending his large hand.
“I-I need it.” Thoughts of pictures of Ruby came to mind. The expression on the man before me never wavered. Slowly, I extended my hand and relinquished the phone to his grasp.
With a quick look down, he disconnected the call with Marion.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I said. “You can have the ring.”
The corner of the man’s mouth curled upward. “Ms. Miller, my name is Philip.” He extended his hand, returning the phone my way. “Please don’t call Mr. Elliott.” He tipped his chin toward David’s body. “He’ll wake and when he does, you’ll be gone.”
“Gone?”
The other big man appeared behind him. “Car’s here.”
“Come with me, Ms. Miller.”
What choice did I have?
“I can pay you,” I offered. “Mr. Elliott can pay.”
Philip nodded. “I’m well compensated, ma’am.” He gestured toward the back of the store.
Tentatively, I took a step through the doorway and back into the waiting area, again peering at David’s unconscious body. “Are you sure he’s not dead?”
“Yes, I’m sure. He’ll wake with a nice headache.”
Prying my gaze away, I stepped through the open door into Mr. St. Pierre’s work area. “Oh,” I gasped, seeing Mr. St. Pierre in a similar pose, sprawled upon the floor, near his workbench. The ring Marion had ordered was upon the bench in a type of vise. “Not dead?”
Philip shook his head. “Believe me, this is better for him. He can honestly tell Mr. Elliott and any authorities that he doesn’t know what happened to you.”
I clutched my purse closer to my stomach. “What is happening to me?”
The outside door opened inward, flooding the work area with sunlight. Within the glowing threshold were three large bodies, their faces shadowed in the shining sunshine behind them.
“You’re coming with me,” a deep, resonating voice said.
“Oh.” My body trembled as I ran toward the voice. Sobs bubbled within me as I flung my arms around his neck, my breasts colliding with his solid chest. “You’re here,” I managed between gasps for air.
After pulling me toward him, Patrick lifted his hands, framing my cheeks and tilting my face, milliseconds before his lips found mine.
For only a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. I didn’t care that David or Mr. St. Pierre was no longer conscious. I was no longer fearful of Philip or his partner or what they may do. Even the other two men behind Patrick weren’t registering as I melted against my husband and gave myself to his kiss.
His strong hands left my cheeks, lowering over my shoulders, arms, and down to my waist. It was as if he needed the affirmation of my presence. He wasn’t alone as my touch lowered and I wrapped my arms around his toned torso.
As if beginning where our last kiss ended, Patrick’s lips possessively sought what belonged to him. A moan escaped my throat as his hands roamed and fingers moved upward, tugging my hair as his tongue sought entry.
All around us the fires roared, their flames capable of total decimation, and yet, as I’d said before, within the center, I found safety, security, and home.
When we finally pulled away from one another, the men around us were moving.