Chaste Kiss (35 page)

Snatching her earlobe with his teeth, he said. “You're not going anywhere. I'm not through with you."

Giggling, she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I'm glad to hear it. But now I've got twice as much work to do to get ready."

William chuckled. “Do you think we could have a honeymoon first? I want another chance to melt your brain."

"Oh, you.” She poked him hard in the ribs, and he grunted. “How about some breakfast first? Then maybe later you can work on my brain."

"Hmm.” He returned to her mouth, nibbling and licking her lips. “That would mean I'd have to move."

She took in a slow breath, relishing every touch, every kiss. It was all so unbelievable. “Moving is good. I like moving."

"Minx.” He kissed the tip of her nose then rose to fetch the breakfast tray.

Chapter Twenty

Monday came and the real world invaded.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” William grumbled and Isabel grinned.

"As I recall, there was very little talking involved,” she said.

"I stand corrected."

"What's the matter? Don't you like my coercion tactics?"

"Your tactics are fine. Incredible, in fact, and I look forward to experiencing more of them. Convincing me to take you into work this morning is what I can't believe."

She sighed. “William, I can't just
not
go to work. It's my business, my livelihood. You know how much it means to me."

"I know. I just wish you'd let me call Mick before we left,” he said.

"He'll catch up with us. Stop worrying."

William pulled her little car into the reserved parking space along side the building.

"You're going to be bored out of your mind,” she said. “I don't see why you insist on sitting here with me all day."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight. I brought a book with me. I'll be fine."

They made their way up to her office, and Isabel went straight to work. Just as William prepared to settle down with the spy novel he brought to pass the time and keep his mind off the beautiful woman beside him, she asked if he'd fetch some fabric swatches for her from the storage room since Debi had yet to arrive.

Making his way down the stairs, he thought about everything that happened over the last two days, bringing a broad smile to his face. He couldn't imagine ever being happier. After spending most of Sunday in bed talking about all the things they were going to do and when they were going to be married, they finally emerged from the bedroom for dinner and made their announcement.

The best word to describe the look on Jerome's face would be relieved. Constance simply looked smug, then began rambling on about all the plans that needed to be made.

An hour later, William pulled Isabel from the over zealous housekeeper's clutches. They still had a great deal of lost time to make up for, but he knew deep in his soul that the rest of his life wouldn't be enough time to spend with Isabel.

He chuckled remembering his hurried phone call to his Aunt Tess as he entered the storage room. He'd given her an edited version of what happened, but enough to satisfy her demanding questions. William shuddered at the thought of what his life would be like if he hadn't heeded her words at the last moment. Miserable wretch was too tame a description.

Turning to the shelves, he searched up and down for the box Isabel wanted. He finally located the correct one and bent over to retrieve it. A shadow fell against the shelf over his shoulder as his head suddenly exploded with pain.

"Isabel,” he murmured, then fell into a deep black void.

William had only been gone for a few minutes when Isabel realized she needed something else and bounced down the stairs like a child, unable to contain her joy.

And why not? She was happier than she ever imagined she could ever be in her entire life. It was almost too much to believe.

"I forgot, I also need—” She instantly caught sight of William's legs sticking out from behind the far shelving unit. “William!"

Isabel rushed down the aisle toward him. Someone grabbed her from behind before she could reach him. Clawing at the arm wrapped tightly around her neck, she struggled for air.

"You can't run from your destiny,” a hideous voice whispered in her ear.

A large knife appeared in front of her, the light gleaming off the blade. All she could do was whimper.

"Your boyfriend wasn't worthy of you, angel."

She cast her eyes down to William's still form. Was he dead?
God, please don't let him be dead!

The man slid his grip from around her throat to her shoulders. “This isn't the proper setting for such a righteous occasion."

Her stomach roiled with fear. Swallowing, she struggled to keep her tears in check. She needed to stay calm. She needed to think.

As her attacker slowly pulled her backward toward the doorway, she searched frantically for a way to get free. She couldn't let it all end this way. They were happy! They deserved to be happy! But William—a movement behind the shelves caught her eye.

He was alive! She prayed he wasn't too injured to help. If she could somehow turn the man around, perhaps William could grab him from behind.

"We'll go upstairs, my angel. The closer you are to the sky the quicker you shall ascend to heaven."

The bell over the shop door jangled. “Izzy,” Debi called.

Clamping his hand over Isabel's mouth, the stalker dragged her back into the shadows of the storage room. Back behind the shelves where the man she loved still lay on the floor. He had moved. She was certain of it. Or was it just her hopeful heart?

The stalker brutally kicked William's feet further into the darkness then moved to the edge of the shelves, waiting.

"Perhaps two angels shall ascend today,” he whispered.

She hoped beyond hope Debi could help, but feared for her friend's life as well as her own and William's. She heard Debi climbing up the stairs and walking across the office. As the floorboards creaked and popped, her eyes remained transfixed on the ceiling, praying.

If only, if only...

Her life seemed to be overflowing with ifs these days. It was all so unfair. She and William had barely more than a day together. How could all their plans, all their hopes and dreams be ripped away so easily? Had it all been for nothing?

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as her hopes and dreams faded. Just as William had faded into nothing so many nights ago.

A mighty jolt sent Isabel backward, slamming her and the attacker against the shelves, forcing him to release his grip on her. Spinning around, she let out a terrifying scream at the sight of William struggling with the stalker. Debi appeared beside her and grabbed her, pulling her toward the door.

Isabel clutched at the doorframe. “No! I won't leave him!"

They watched, holding tightly to one another, as shelves toppled over, boxes fell, and packing supplies spilled out. The stalker emerged from the chaos, edging toward the back door, while William staggered to his feet.

Blood—that was blood! “William!” Isabel screamed, frantic to go to him, but Debi held her back.

"Stay there,” he shouted.

The lunatic kicked his foot backward, throwing open the outer door. “I'll return for you, angel. You cannot hide from your destiny."

"And neither can you, slime-ball."

"Mick,” Debi whispered.

Isabel's heart dipped to the floor.

"Drop your weapon,” Mick ordered.

The stalker moved to turn around.

Mick's jaw clenched. “Just give me an excuse."

The knife clattered to the floor, and in one swift move he slammed the stalker against the cinder block wall.

Isabel lurched from Debi's hold and ran to William's side.

"I'm all right. He barely grazed me,” he said.

Quickly inspecting the gash in his arm, relief swamped her. It wasn't bad, but the sight of his blood staining his shirtsleeve was horrifying. The memory of a bejeweled dagger sticking out of his chest would haunt her for the rest of her days. She swayed and William clutched her to his side.

"It's over, love. It's over,” he murmured against her hair.

Mick jerked the stalker's hands behind his back and slapped on a pair of handcuffs as Officer Pauley appeared beside him. “Get him the hell out of here and read him his rights."

Isabel didn't think she could feel any sicker, but the sight of her attacker's face in the bright light sent a freezing chill through her body. “I know him."

Mick spun around. “From where?"

"He—” She hesitated, and William squeezed her, giving her the courage. “He used to come into Mrs. Hastings’ shop. He was always searching for anything with angels or cherubs on them."

Mick shot the guy a narrowed glare. “Looks like he decided you were one of those angels. I'm guessing you waited on him a lot."

She nodded numbly then buried her face in William's shoulder, new tears forming at the borders of her eyes.

"You okay, Ashenhurst? Need an ambulance?” Mick asked.

"No. I'll be fine. You could have gotten here a little sooner though,” he grumbled. “I'm not too fond of knives."

Mick chuckled. “Me neither. If it hadn't been for a timely phone call, I wouldn't have gotten here so quickly."

Isabel sniffled and peeked out from beneath William's chin. “Phone call?"

Mick's mouth twisted into a crooked grin as he nodded toward Debi. “You did good."

"Thanks,” she said with sigh.

"Debi? You called Mick? But I don't understand."

"She noticed things weren't right when she knew you were here but not answering her. So, while she was upstairs in your office she called me. I was already on my way. You failing to check in,” he said nodding toward William, “and you not staying put like I told you to do, had me hightailing it over here to give you both a graphic piece of my mind."

Isabel swallowed hard before she spoke. “Thank you, Debi. I owe you my life."

"Does this mean I get a raise?"

She choked out a laugh in spite of the roiling in her stomach. She and William were alive. Their nightmare had truly ended.

As the stalker was hustled away, Isabel took William into the small bathroom to tend his wound. Closing the door behind them, she set about bandaging his arm.

William sat silently letting her tend him. He'd nearly lost her—again. Taking a deep breath, he smelled the soft musk of her perfume. A heady, enticing scent—and real. God, what would he do without her?

"I can't believe it's finally over,” she said, pressing the last piece of first-aid tape over the bandage.

He laid his hands over hers. She still shook with fear.

"Yes, love. It's all over,” he said.

"Oh, William,” she cried.

He pulled her into his arms and she thoroughly soaked his shoulder with her tears, but he didn't care. She was safe and now they could get on with their lives.

Alive
. He was alive and holding the woman he loved with all his heart. Could things be any better?

"You two going to stay in there all day or what?” Debi asked with a knock on the door.

He sighed. Yes, they could be better. “I think we should see if we can hurry Constance up on those wedding plans."

Isabel giggled against his damp shoulder. “I suppose a honeymoon is the only way we'll get any privacy around here, huh?"

"Can I help it if I want you all to myself?"

Smiling, she pecked a kiss to his lips then turned and washed her face. She was a marvel, and he had the rest of his life to spend with her. One he felt certain would be long and happy.

Epilogue

"I really like your Aunt Tess,” Isabel said, once she and William had a chance to catch their breaths after getting on the plane.

"I'm glad. I think she likes you, too."

"And, um, Winifred seems nice."

"She is."

William hadn't wanted her to attend, but they'd been close for several years. It seemed only right that he at least extend an invitation. He found it odd, however, that Jon seemed to be by her side the entire time. He was certain those two couldn't stand each other.

Isabel shifted in her seat, her hands fumbling awkwardly in her lap. “Were you in love with her?"

William slipped his fingers between hers and tilted up her chin. “No, Isabel. I care for her, but not the way I care for you. We've known each other for years. It was just expected we would marry."

"Did you, uh, you know?” she asked, with a soft blush.

Holding in his grin, he looked at her innocently. “Did I what?"

Her eyes widened then narrowed. With a huff, she resituated herself in her chair and looked out the window, her arms firmly crossed.

William laughed. God, how he loved this woman. Here was his bride, his wife for not more than two hours, and she was jealous. He was surprised it took her this long to ask about Winifred, and now that she had, he couldn't help teasing her just a little bit.

Her flushed cheeks and pouting lips made him want to grab her and kiss her all the way to Jamaica. Not at a bad idea at that, but she more than likely wouldn't go for it. Then again, there was that mile high club thing he'd heard about. How big were airplane bathrooms, anyway?

His chest heaved with a sigh. No, his sweet Isabel definitely wouldn't go for a rendezvous in a space smaller than a closet with walls as thin as paper. In the privacy of their room, she was all fire and passion, but in public, she tended to be a little reserved. Time and again he told her how her slightest touch sent a surge of heat through him he couldn't control and didn't want to. He couldn't help it if he got the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless so often. All right, so he shouldn't do it out on the street, or in the airport.

William sighed. Or in all the other places he'd managed to steal a heated kiss. He supposed he should curb his appetite just a little. They were on their honeymoon, and once they landed in Jamaica there'd be plenty of opportunities. And they might even prove to be more interesting than the ones they'd already shared.

Like the night he persuaded her into the shower with him. Or the night they spent in Jerome's swimming pool. Their skinny-dipping episode was, so far, at the top of his list. If he were making a list.