Her Only Desire Read online

  Tears welled, but it wasn’t really for sorrow over her cousin. She’d lived years with her death, even resenting the way it hovered in everyone’s minds and tainted her town.

  She felt weepy for the fact she no longer trusted her brother, not when she couldn’t be certain he hadn’t been the one who’d killed Celeste. Maybe the bracelet didn’t mean a thing. Maybe Denny hadn’t killed her, but he’d certainly been there that night. He might know who else had been there.

  It was odd, the fact she didn’t trust her own brother, but knew with all her heart that Boone hadn’t killed her. All because he’d shown her brother kindness all those years ago, her belief in him only cementing the more time she spent with him.

  But what to do about Denny? She always felt like a lodestone of guilt weighed her down. He shouldn’t be a burden.

  The restaurant loomed. Another worry to replace the one that would never go away. She pulled into a parking space and let herself out of the car.

  A chirp of a siren sounded behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder.

  Leon double-parked his sedan beside hers and exited his car. “Boone finally let you off your leash?”

  Tilly planted a hand on her hip and glared. “Am I wearin’ a collar?” Good Lord, her cheeks blushed, because she wasn’t so sure that wasn’t where their activities were heading. But Leon couldn’t know that, could he? “Don’t be a jackass,” she muttered as he strolled toward her.

  Leon came close, staring down at her, his gaze raking her slightly rumpled clothes.

  She sincerely hoped he didn’t have an acute sense of smell. Not that she was ashamed to be taking up with Boone, but Leon had a thing against him and she didn’t want the added aggravation of his constant taunts.

  “You look good, Tilly. Although I do miss the Daisy Dukes.”

  Her lips twitched into a smile. “I was a little tired of my ass cheeks gettin’ sunburned.”

  Leon laughed and pushed back his hat. “Heard you moved out there.”

  She heard the question in his voice, knew he had his suspicions, but she wasn’t about to confirm them. What she was doing with Boone was none of his business. Strangely, she wasn’t embarrassed. A day ago, she might have blushed at this conversation. “I have the foreman’s cottage.”

  “Seem a little weird, him puttin’ you up out there?”

  Pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she shrugged. “Most of his staff lives in the mansion for now. Not the local workers—they commute back and forth—but I don’t think it’s strange at all he wants me there.”

  Leon gave her a pointed look. “Is he botherin’ you?”

  Tilly shook her head, keeping her smile set and her eyes wide. “Boone doesn’t bother me, Leon. And fact is, I wouldn’t mind the attention.”

  His expression quickly shuttered. “You be careful, hear?” he said, his voice deepening with his doubt.

  “I always am. Don’t you worry about me.”

  He lifted his chin toward the restaurant. “Can I buy you lunch?”

  Relieved he’d dropped the interrogation and because she wanted to make nice, she smiled and nodded. “I’d like that, although I did come to talk to Mae. I left without giving notice. She might spit in our food,” she teased.

  “She wouldn’t dare do that to an officer of the law,” he said, giving her a wink, and then he held open the door, waiting for her to enter.

  Tilly took a deep breath and walked inside the cozy restaurant. Mae wasn’t anywhere in sight. Had likely spotted her through the window and gone to the kitchen to sulk. LeRoy Duhon, the bait shop owner, was the only customer inside, and he gave her a narrow-eyed stare. Tilly knew her moving to Maison Plaisir had made her the talk of the town. And not in a good way.

  She glanced at the corkboard. A handwritten note was posted there: WAITRESS NEEDED. Mae had pinned it right over the latest of Jonesy’s notices. Notices she hadn’t bothered tearing down.

  Tilly shook her head. She’d never understand the gruff woman. “Find us a couple of seats, Leon. I’ll go talk to Mae.” She straightened her spine and pushed through the swinging door, entering the kitchen.

  “Only folks who work here are welcome in the kitchen,” Mae said, her voice surly, her gaze on the onions she chopped on the cutting board, her knife slicing with practiced ease.

  “Mae, I’m sorry I didn’t give you notice,” she said quietly, hovering by the door. “I left you in a lurch. You have every right to be angry.”

  Mae huffed a breath through her nose. “My baby’s dead ’cause o’ dat man, and you’re off gallivantin’—flyin’ to Mexico and havin’ a gran’ ole time—an’ she’s dead an’ in her grave.”

  Tilly knew there was no use defending Boone. Not when Mae had been cultivating her hatred for him for all those years. “It’s a good job. One that’ll allow me to bring Denny home.”

  Mae raised her head, but looked out the window to the restaurant rather than look at Tilly. “Don’ guess there’s anythin’ left to say. Don’ ever say I didn’ warn ya.”

  Knowing she’d lost a friend, Tilly sighed. She had too few, and although Mae wasn’t a warm woman, she’d seen her through some tough times. Guilt settled in her tummy. “The sheriff invited me to lunch. If you want, I can serve up today’s special and take it out there.”

  Mae’s shoulders straightened. “It’s my kitchen. Don’ need your help.”

  Tilly backed away and pushed through the door. Regret ached inside her chest, but there was also relief. Mae had never been easy to be around. She held her anger and grief at the world too close. Both tainted her view of the world around her.

  Leon raised his eyebrows as she settled in her chair. “She must have taken it well,” he drawled. “Didn’t sound like World War Three was breakin’ out.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I would’ve preferred if she’d thrown a hissy fit. I don’t think she’ll ever speak to me again.” Her eyes teared up, but she blinked away the moisture and pasted on a smile.

  “She’s been lookin’ after you ever since you came back to town. I can’t see her stayin’ mad that long.”

  Leon was trying to comfort her, which she found sweet, but she knew she’d burned a bridge with Mae. “She’s different than she was back then,” she said, unwilling to say her cousin’s name. “Harder. Even worse ever since Boone came back to town. Mutterin’ and morose.”

  Leon’s expression grew pensive. “Has to be hard for her. She was Celeste’s nanny. That girl was her whole world.”

  Her body went still. “Her death wasn’t easy on any of us, Leon. If I can get past it, why can’t the rest of y’all?”

  Leon’s gaze drilled into her. “Because the rest of us aren’t walkin’ around with blinders, Tilly. The man who’s responsible for her bein’ dead is walkin’ around like he owns the place.”

  Anger flushed her cheeks. She lifted her chin. She almost blurted that Leon had had more motive to kill Celeste than Boone had—he’d wanted Celeste too—but believing him a murderer was just as unfathomable. “It’s been fifteen years. Don’t you think if he had killed her, coming back here would be the last thing he’d do?”

  Leon leaned forward and tapped the table. “He was a damn SEAL. He thinks he owns the place. And don’t think he hasn’t killed since—it’s just all legal-like now.” At her expression, he sank back in his seat, his gaze turning away. “I’m not sayin’ a man can’t change. I’m just sayin’ folks can’t forgive the fact no one ever paid for her death.”

  A plate slid in front of Tilly, filled with dirty rice and beans, fried shrimp, and corn bread.

  Spicy aromas swirled upward and tickled her nose. Tilly’s belly felt queasy, but she offered a smile as she tilted her face upward.

  Mae’s stony expression didn’t relent. She slid a plate in front of Leon. “Anythin’ else you be needin’, Sheriff?”

  “No, Mae. Smells good.” He smiled at her and reached for his fork.

  Mae grunted and turned away, her feet clomping har
d all the way back to the kitchen.

  Leon whistled. “I see what you mean. Might wanna give her some space.”

  Tilly’s shoulders slumped. “She’s not ever gonna forgive me.”

  “Probably not.” Leon reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Not all of us are angry with you, Tilly. Just concerned. You be careful.”

  She dug into her meal, hoping she could make a dent and not give Mae another reason to hate her. Still, she wasn’t sorry she’d come. Mae deserved the courtesy of a personal apology. Hoping to change the subject, she raised her gaze. “So, did that historical guy have anything to say about the renovations?”

  “Other than complainin’ about the loss of the cabin, he wasn’t critical of the rest. Said that Boone was holdin’ true to the historical details while making some necessary upgrades. Shouldn’t have any trouble over them.”

  Her lips twitched at his grumpy tone. “You don’t sound happy about that fact.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I know he’s your boss, but I’d love to catch him speedin’ through town, just once.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Give him a ticket. I’m not out for blood, Tilly. I’m a lawman; I’ll let justice find its own way.”

  They ate in silence, Tilly’s mood spilling toward the floor. After the exhilarating night and morning she’d had, she supposed she was due to come down off her high. She forced down a final bite, feeling suddenly weary.

  “Any chance you’ve changed your mind about goin’ on a date with me?”

  Tilly blinked and raised her head. She didn’t have a snappy comeback. And she knew the moment she didn’t, that he knew why. Regret lanced through her at his tightening expression.

  Leon’s mouth firmed into a straight line. He cleared his throat. “Don’t guess I can compete with a billionaire,” he said, his voice deepening.

  She didn’t bother reminding him she hadn’t been interested before Boone came to town, but what was the use? She laid down her fork and pushed away her plate. “I’m done. Sorry to eat and run, but I have a lot to do today. Really appreciate it, Leon.”

  “Sure,” he said, giving her a stolid stare.

  She scooted off the seat and walked out of the restaurant, heading to her car.

  The sound of an engine starting drew her glance. A dark car with tinted windows was parked across the street.

  Tilly gave the driver she couldn’t see a glare and opened her car door. No doubt Boone knew the moment she’d left the estate. He also knew who she’d joined for lunch. She wondered if he’d consider that a punishable offense.

  Her mood kicked up a notch. A girl could only hope.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tilly didn’t see Boone for the rest of the day. She was on tenterhooks all afternoon, wondering what he would say or do about the fact she’d met with Leon. Jonesy hadn’t resumed his tour, but he’d let her dog his steps as he’d checked with the army of workers busy around the estate.

  She couldn’t imagine the amount of money Boone was pouring into the restoration, but just in the last two days, there was notable progress. The garden in front of the house had been cleared, dead plantings removed, bushes pruned, fresh dirt and manure and a layer of mulch put down. A delivery truck was parked in the front lawn, workers unloading trees, bushes, flowers in pots ready to be planted. The red-tiled roof looked good as new. Painters were building scaffolding to begin the work on the exterior of the house.

  She had to admit, his money could perform miracles. The sparkle was starting to return to the grand old house.

  Tired, she could do little more than drag her feet back to her cottage. She wasn’t sure if she’d be welcome to join Boone for dinner, didn’t know for sure how that worked, so she decided to shower and rummage through her well-stocked kitchen for something to eat.

  Maybe she needed time alone to sort out her feelings. The many highs, followed by the thudding lows, had sucked out her energy.

  When she entered her bath and spied that great big tub, she changed her mind about the shower. Instead, she poured rose-scented bath salts into the bottom of the tub and filled it high with water. Resting her head against the back, she closed her eyes. Maybe she’d have a little nap.

  “I guess I should have been a little more specific. I did only say no showering.”

  She peeked between her lashes at Boone who strode inside and tipped down the toilet lid to take a seat. Her heart tripped, and then beat at a faster, heavier rate. “Thought I locked the front door.”

  “You should have turned the dead bolt if you didn’t want me using my key,” he said, his narrow gaze resting on her face.

  “I’ll remember that.” She closed her eyes again and resisted the urge to smile. She liked the deep, rumbling quality of his voice. Warmth that didn’t have a thing to do with the rose-scented water sent a flush through her skin.

  “I came by to invite you to dinner—that is, if you don’t already have plans.”

  Okay, so his edgy anger was a turn-on, but she didn’t really want him having the wrong impression. What they had, whatever it was, was too new to tarnish with any misplaced jealousy. Better not to pussyfoot around what was actually on his mind. “I didn’t go to town to meet Leon. I went to apologize to Mae. Leon just showed up. He invited me to lunch. It wasn’t a date, Boone.”

  “You know damn well Leon’s man at the gate radioed him the moment you left the estate.”

  She opened her eyes. “You monitor the police band too?”

  He shrugged.

  She sat sideways in the tub and rested her arm on the rim. “I noticed you had me followed,” she said, giving him back the same narrowed glare. “Some women might be creeped out by that fact.”

  A dark brow arched. “Are you?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and then grinned. “You’re a control freak, Boone.”

  Boone shook his head, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. “Since you’re already wet…” He reached beneath into the bottom of the baker’s rack and pulled out a black pouch.

  She angled her head to give him a coy glance. “What’s that?”

  “How about you get out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub, and I’ll show you.”

  As always, her curiosity won out. She pushed up and stood, then sat gingerly on the rolled lip of the tub. Her nudity made her blush, but she wasn’t about to comment on it.

  “Part your legs.”

  She almost blurted, “What? No ‘please’?” But he was giving her one of those looks, the ones that said it was playtime. Excitement thrummed through her. She dropped her gaze and slowly spread her thighs, hoping the pressure of her muscles against the rim wasn’t making her thighs appear massive.

  He came to her, sliding an arm around her back.

  “You’ll get wet,” she gasped.

  He shook his head. “Lean back and grip the far rim.”

  She did just that, leaning on her arms and realizing how the awkward position left her open and vulnerable.

  Boone unzipped the pouch and drew out an electric razor.

  Her eyes widened as she realized he intended to keep his earlier promise. “I can manage that on my own.”

  He tsked. “What are the only words I want to hear right now?”

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, then let it go. “Yes, sir?”

  Boone knelt between her legs and used a towel to wipe away the excess moisture.

  She tried to resume breathing, hated that her face was getting hotter. All this attention to her private parts was a bit unnerving. And embarrassing. Did he think her terribly ungroomed? She’d always shaved her bikini line, but doing anything more seemed decadent.

  “Did Leon get close enough to notice?” he asked softly, not bothering to glance up.

  Holding a conversation with a man who couldn’t bother to look away from her pussy was awkward to say the least. Having him ask whether another man noticed she’s smelled like sex only made this whole scene su
rreal. “No, sir. Or if he did, he was too polite to tell me I smelled.”

  He pressed a button and the razor buzzed, reminding her of the hum of the vibrator he’d used earlier. Her pussy clenched.

  With a finger, he tapped her mound. “None of that, now.” Then, starting from the bottom of her pussy, he ran the razor up the right side of her folds.

  The sensation was foreign—and delightful. She gripped the rim harder and leaned her head back, trusting he knew what he was doing and deciding she’d just enjoy this new experience.

  He ran up the left side, then rubbed his fingers over her lips before parting them and repeating the process, but this time following the edges of her labia.

  The razor ceased its humming and she opened her eyes, her gaze shooting down to inspect her bare mound.

  He held a can of shaving cream and shook it, before pointing it on the opposite palm and pushing the nozzle to fill it with foam. Then he painted the foam on her mound, her labia, and the supersensitive area between her pussy and her anus.

  Dying to speak, she sucked in a deep breath. If she could, she’d tell him this was way beyond embarrassing. Painfully intimate. When he dipped a manual razor into the tub water and then pulled her labia this way and that to glide the blades over her flesh, she was glad she wasn’t speaking, because she certainly didn’t want him distracted. But she needn’t have worried.

  Boone was ruthlessly efficient, shaving her bare in minutes, and then wiping her with the towel. When he’d put away his tools, he fondled her flesh, admiring his work. “Pretty and pink.” He rose and slid an arm around her again, pulling her upright. “Rinse off in the bath. I’ll be waiting for you in your bedroom.”

  Her heart racing, she lowered into the water, her cheeks so hot she wished she could curl up and die. Holding a breath, she sank beneath the water, hiding there until her head felt ready to explode. When she came up, she heard chuckling from the other room.

  “Stop stalling.”

  Lathering up a loofah, she washed quickly, shampooed her hair, and then ran fresh water from the tap to rinse. She stepped out of the tub, making a face at the pubic hairs littering the floor and being careful to step around them. Men didn’t think about their messes.