Page 53 of Suzanna's Surrender
She had gone to the cliffs. She didn’t know why when she’d needed to run that she had run there. Only for a moment, she promised herself. She would only need a moment alone.
She sat on a rock, covered her face and wept out the bitterness and shame.
He found her like that, alone and sobbing, the wind carrying off the sounds of her grief, the sea pounding restlessly below. He didn’t know where to begin. His mother had always been a sturdy woman, and whatever tears she had shed had been shed in private.
Worse, he could still see Suzanna pushed against the wall, Dumont’s hand on her throat. She’d looked so fragile, and so brave.
He stepped closer, laid a hesitant hand on her hair. “Suzanna.”
She was up like a shot, choking back tears, wiping them from her damp face. “I have to get back in. The children—”
“Are in the kitchen stuffing themselves with cookies. Sit down.”
“No, I—”
“Please.” He sat, easing her down beside him. “I haven’t been here in a long time. My grandfather used to bring me. He used to sit right here and look out to sea. Once he told me a story about a princess in the castle up on the ridge. He must have been talking about Bianca, but later, when I remembered it, I always thought of you.”
“Holt, I’m so sorry.”
“If you apologize, you’re only going to make me mad.”
She swallowed another hot ball of tears. “I can’t stand that you saw, that anyone saw.”
“What I saw was you standing up to a bully.” He turned her face to his. When he saw the fading red marks on her throat, he had to force back an oath. “He’s never going to hurt you again.”
“It was his reputation. The children must have talked about Kevin.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
She did, as clearly as she was able. “When Sloan told me,” she finished, “I knew it was important that the children understand they had a brother. What Bax doesn’t realize is that I never thought about him, never cared. It was the children who mattered, all of them. The family.”
“No, he wouldn’t understand that. Or you.” He brought her hand to his lips to kiss it gently. The stunned look on her face had him scowling out to sea. “I haven’t been Mr. Sensitivity myself.”
“You’ve been wonderful.”
“If I had, you wouldn’t look like I hit you with a rock when I kiss your hand.”
“It just isn’t your style.”
“No.” He shrugged and dug out a cigarette. “I guess it’s not.” Then he changed his mind and slipped an arm around her shoulders instead. “Nice view.”
“It’s wonderful. I’ve always come here, to this spot. Sometimes...”
“Go ahead.”
“You’ll just laugh at me, but sometimes it’s as if I can almost see her. Bianca. I can feel her, and I know she’s here, waiting.” She rested her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes. “Like right now. It’s so warm and real. Up in the tower, her tower, it’s bittersweet, more of a longing. But here, it’s anticipation. Hope. I know you think I’m crazy.”
“No.” When she started to shift, he pulled her closer so that her head nestled back on his shoulder. “No, I can’t. Not when I feel it, too.”
From the west tower, the man who called himself Marshall watched them through field glasses. He didn’t worry about being disturbed. The family no longer came above the second floor in the west wing, and the crew had knocked off thirty minutes before. He’d hoped to take advantage of the time that Sloan O’Riley was away with his new bride on his honeymoon to move more freely around the house. The Calhouns were so accustomed to seeing men in tool belts that they rarely gave him a second glance.
And he was interested, very interested, in Holt Bradford, finding it fascinating that he was being drawn into this generation of Calhouns. It pleased him that he could continue his work right under the nose of an ex-cop. Such irony added to his vanity.
He would continue to keep tabs, he thought, while the cop completed his search. And he would be there to take what was his the moment the treasure was found. Whoever was in the way would simply be eliminated.
Suzanna spent all evening with her children, soothing ruffled feathers and trying to turn their unhappy experience into a silly misadventure. By the time she got them tucked into bed, Jenny was no longer clinging and Alex had rebounded like a rubber ball.
“We had to ride in the car for hours and hours.” He bounced on his sister’s bed while Suzanna smoothed Jenny’s sheets. “And they had dumb music on the radio thewholetime. People were singing like this.” He opened his mouth wide and let out what he thought passed for an operatic aria. “And you couldn’t understand a word.”
