Page 49 of Bed of Thorns

It sounded too good to be true and I was no fool. I’d go into this with my eyes wide open. “The catch?”

“I knew from everything Adam told me about you that you were perfect. You’ve proven that here today. The catch is that this must remain private. While my wife knows that I’m a financial advisor, she had never learned about my clients, nor has she been provided any details of what I do. That can be a burden for some.” He searched my eyes once again.

I took a deep breath, my thoughts drifting to Mercedes. I wanted to share everything in my life with her. Everything. I also wanted to fulfill her dreams. This opportunity would allow me to do so. “I have one question.”

“I’m certain you’ll have others.”

“Perhaps, but this one is important. I have a record. Why would anyone allow me to become their financial advisor?”

He seemed just as thoughtful as he had before. “As I said before, we’ll need to work around your record when obtaining your licenses, but that’s not a problem. As far as our clients, they will appreciate your determination and grit because of what you’ve been through. Just keep your nose clean at this point and we won’t have an issue.”

“Not a problem. I want to do this.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get started.”

As I turned toward the window, staring out into the bright sunny sky, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the one who’d just sold his soul to the devil.

CHAPTER12

Mercedes

Loneliness.

I’d experienced it my entire life whether I’d been around people or not. I’d suffered through what my mother called my dark spells, times when I’d been powerless to communicate with more than a few words. The nightmares had been worse during those few months, spiraling me into depression. I’d never asked for help, always able to make it through a day, earning good grades and finishing my chores. But the unhappiness had kept me hidden behind my sketch pad.

I’d found some paper and pens in a desk drawer after searching the small house to find out what we needed. Various surprises had come with every door opened, every drawer pulled into the light. The cottage was small, but it had been well equipped with almost everything we needed.

Except for methods of communication. There were no computers, no televisions. At least I’d found a working CD player, the limited disks left in a bookshelf acceptable for now. I’d spent the day cleaning, putting my few clothes away in the closet. But even after everything was exactly the way I wanted it to be, it still didn’t feel like home. I had to admit that I wasn’t certain if I’d ever felt like I’d had a home, at least not since the day Fernando had moved into the small house my mother had painstakingly cared for, providing few but precious items.

I’d never admitted how much Fernando’s arrival had affected me, especially since the first month or so had been exciting with Edmond being in the house. Now, as I thought about the years I’d spent living there, I realized I’d lived outside myself, as if looking down on the events.

The sun was starting to wane, the tide low. And still there wasn’t a phone call from Edmond. I hadn’t wanted to bother him in his search for success, but my mind never strayed far from our conversations and his strong emotions.

Or mine.

He was like a bright shining star bursting in the sky, yet the demons plaguing him threatened to drag him back to the horror he’d experienced almost every day. He was a live wire, determined to make himself successful in order to prove something not only to his father and himself, but to me as well. That troubled me more than I could say to him. I just wanted him, us to be happy. Was that even a possibility or would there always be darkness enshrouding the earth-shattering love that had already consumed both of us?

Maybe time would help ease the pain, providing a sense of normalcy. At least I could hope. I’d found several bottles of wine, most of which were very expensive, some obviously left in the cottage a long time before. I’d enjoyed the first taste, but it hadn’t seemed any more real than being here alone, wondering and worrying.

I moved onto the deck, studying the fluffy clouds drifting aimlessly across the horizon. There was something very special about being here, and the sound of the ocean was comforting. Sadly, I wondered how long that would last. There were tumultuous clouds in our future. My instinct told me that. Would we survive the storm?

Determined to push the ugly thought out of my mind, I grabbed the pad of paper and pen I’d found and headed down to the beach. At least I could consume time creating a world where there were no sinners, no monsters threatening to drag us apart as they’d done before. Maybe I could find peace, if only for a little while.

I created a well in the sand, pushing the glass into it then staring at the ocean. It truly was beautiful here. As I started sketching, I realized I felt confined, pinned in by uncertainty. I tore page after page off the pad. I’d never been this stymied, my inability to fuel my imagination suffocating. Then a spark entered my mind. I bit my lip and started drawing, almost frantically, sketching out the image that remained firmly planted in my mind.

After a few minutes, I glanced at what I’d created, thrilled that I hadn’t lost any skill. I kept going, allowing the pen to become an instrument, guiding me toward providing the details. I had no idea how much time had passed other than by the way the sun had dipped below the horizon, creating shadows. Still, everything was breathtaking, pushing me harder to finish at least one sketch.

Yet one wasn’t enough. I moved to a second, consuming the entire glass of wine somewhere along the way. When I finally lifted my head, I realized twilight had settled in and he still wasn’t home.

As the light breeze continued to float across the sand, I allowed myself to become lost in the rolling waves. The tide had changed, coming closer and closer. For some reason, the usually peaceful sound felt like a turbulent beating of drums, the future a path with twisted roads rather than a fork. One path led to sorrow. The other led to salvation. Depending on the actions taken, only then would we know which road we would be destined to follow.

I sensed his presence and a tremor skated along my spine. The wind floated his scent over me, the hint of spices and sandalwood intoxicating. He remained a few feet away, a sweet temptation. I refused to budge, remaining quiet yet the blood pumping through my veins had already embroiled my system.

When he finally sat down behind me, straddling his legs around my hips, I took a deep breath.

We both remained quiet, allowing the sounds of nature to be our background. I sensed that at times, there would be no need to talk, just being together the only thing that mattered. He crowded closer until the hard ridge of his cock was pressed against the small of my back. Just being around him kept me lightheaded, butterflies swarming my stomach. When he started brushing the backs of his fingers down my arms, I shuddered visibly, a tiny moan escaping.

He’d been so aggressive before, the sweltering need overwhelming, but now he seemed different, basking in the glory of our alone time. As he caressed my skin, he nuzzled against my neck, shifting my hair aside so he could press a series of kisses against it. They were light, moths fluttering together in the wind.

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