His Heart's Revenge (The Marshall Brothers Series, Book 2) (26 page)

Whatever she was going to say was silenced by the hard pressure of Michael's mouth. His lips ground against hers, and his tongue speared her mouth. Katy was revolted. She tried to pull back and could not. The length of her was pressed flush to Michael, and she felt herself being maneuvered back toward the bed. The thought of Michael talking her on the same bed where she had lain with Logan gave Katy a surge of strength. She bit down with her teeth and brought up her knee.

Michael reeled backward. There was blood on the corner of his mouth and murder in his eyes. Katy found herself retreating into one corner of the room as Michael slowly straightened and started toward her. Her eyes darted around the room quickly, looking for some avenue of escape. It was useless to attempt to fling herself to the far side of the bed and to go in any other direction meant getting past Michael.

Katy feinted left, as if making for the bed, then sprinted past Michael as he grabbed at the air. She made it as far as the parlor when she felt Michael's hands on her skirts. He jerked her to a halt by grabbing the elaborate ruffled bustle at the back of her gown and spun her around. Off balance, Katy threw up her hands to ward him off. He struck them down, and then the flat of his hand connected with Katy's cheek. She fell sideways, knocking over a table and scattering the dainty porcelain figurines that rested on the top.

Pushing at the fallen table with her feet, Katy scooted backward on the floor and tried to put some distance between her and Michael. Her cheek throbbed and her hip hurt where she had hit the table. "Don't come any closer, Michael. I swear I will kill you if you touch me again."

He laughed. "I admire your bravado almost as much as I admire your body." He bent, reaching for Katy's wrist to pull her to her feet. When she flinched, he merely swiped at her again. She ducked, but not enough, and his palm slammed hard against her ear.

Pain sent her reeling. Crying out, Katy protected her head with her arms and shrunk away as Michael came at her again. She never knew if his intent was to help or hit her. The blackness at the edge of her vision exploded just a moment before she fainted.

Chapter 7

It was the sound of her own soft moan that roused Katy to consciousness. She turned on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest. Her head ached horribly, and she was aware of a dull, throbbing pain in her arms and legs.

It took her several moments to understand that she was no longer on the floor of the parlor and that her bedroom was unbearably hot. She unbuttoned the top three buttons on her gown with fingers that shook. Sitting up slowly, feeling as if she had been stretched on a rack, Katy rested against the headboard. Even that small movement made her nauseated. Rather than breathe deeply, Katy sipped the air in an effort to quell the unsettled feeling in her stomach. She grimaced, her reflection in the mirror across the room proving that she was as flushed and disheveled as she imagined.

The outer door to the suite opened. Katy cringed as the footsteps neared her bedroom. She was looking around for a weapon to stop Michael when Logan came into view.

"So, you are finally awake," he said pleasantly. "That's good. How are you feeling?"

Katy could not make a sound. It had never occurred to her that she could be happy to see Logan Marshall. Her eyes took in all of him in a single glance. A lock of his copper-threaded hair had fallen across his forehead, and he raked it back in a familiar, even endearing, gesture. He was studying her, but for once his gaze seemed more concerned than condemning. Katy stopped looking for a weapon. Aware that she was staring now, she shrugged in response to Logan's question.

Logan sat down in the rocker that he had pushed close to the bed. He unfastened the buttons on his jacket and the material opened over his dove gray waistcoat. "That bad?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I sent someone from the hotel to get Victor. I assume he is at the store."

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

He frowned, a thought occurring to him as he studied the swollen area on Katy's cheek. "It was not Victor who hit you, was it?"

"God, no," she said.

"What happened, Katy?"

"You didn't see?"

"No." Almost immediately he knew he should have prevaricated rather than answer honestly. Since it was too late to rectify his mistake, he continued. "You were alone when I found you lying on the floor in the other room. I put you in here and went to get someone for Victor. Perhaps I should have sent for a doctor. I have a friend who is—"

"No. I'll be fine."

Logan was not as confident. She had been out cold when he found her, and she had not responded to his attempts to bring her around. He had taken note of the overturned table, the bunched rug, and the discoloration on Katy's cheek. Logan realized the bruise was not the result of a fall. He told her that, and when she did not deny it, he repeated his earlier request. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

She shook her head. The movement made her lightheaded, and she clutched the pillow harder. "Oh, God, Logan, I think I am going to be—"

Logan scooped her up and carried her to the bathing room. He stroked her back while she leaned weakly against the sink and was sick. "Let me get a doctor for you, Katy. I should have done it right away instead of sending for Victor. You might have hit something when you fell."

It was the blow Michael had delivered to the side of her head that was causing the problem, and Katy knew it. The ringing in her ear was incessant, annoying, and painful. "No, I don't want a doctor. I am merely dizzy, that's all." She took the glass of water Logan gave her and rinsed out her mouth. Logan picked her up and took her back to bed, ignoring her protests. "Thank you," she said primly when he finished fussing over her.

"Dammit, Katy," he said, straightening. "You're hurt. This is not something to be kept secret."

Secret? Wasn't it just like Logan to want to tell everything? "I fail to see why not. I am an adult now, Logan, not a child, and I will thank you to let me make my own decision about what secrets are meant to be kept."

Logan was not certain he and Katy were talking about the same thing anymore. But if not, then what was she going on about?

Catching Logan's puzzlement, Katy became aware of what she was saying. She drew in a calming breath. "And if I wanted to tell anyone, it would be Victor, not you, certainly not a doctor. This is none of your business."

He sat back in the rocker. "None of my... no, it's not, is it?"

"That's right."

Logan said nothing for several minutes. He leaned back, resting the heels of his shoes on the bed frame, and stared at the fringed canopy on Katy's bed. "Of all the things I thought you might do, I never expected you to marry Victor Donovan."

There was something odd in his voice that Katy could not identify. It was almost as if he felt some regret. "No, I suppose you didn't. But then, you never really knew me, did you? You never took the time to learn anything important about me."

"I knew what I needed to know."

Katy heard the defensiveness in his tone. "It is easier to justify your actions if you believe the worst of me."

His eyes hardened. "I have nothing to justify."

"All right," she said. She felt too ill to argue. "Would it do any good to ask you to leave before Victor gets here?"

"No. I want to make certain you don't tell him I am the one who put that bruise on your cheek."

Her fingers lifted automatically to her face. She gently touched the outline of the bruise, testing the tenderness. "I would never say it was you," she told him, a wounded look in her eyes. "I do not even know how you came to be here."

Logan watched Katy's hand drop away from her face. She had slender, beautifully tapered fingers. His eyes followed her movement. He remembered those hands caressing him, holding him intimately. The tips of her fingers had pressed into his back; her nails had cut half-moons in his skin. He recalled cool hands on his warm flesh and the curve of her palms on his thighs. Her wedding ring caught his eye and the memories dissolved. A frown pulled at corners of his mouth, and he answered Katy stiffly. "I hoped that you would eventually come back to the suite to get your things. I arranged to be notified when you did. Don't worry; it's all being handled carefully. Only one other person besides you and Victor knows I was here today."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

She raised her hands in a helpless, all-at-sea gesture. "Why to most everything. Why did you want to see me? And why help me? Why do you care if anyone knows that you're here now? I would think you'd be happy to ruin my marriage. Why did you come to the theatre last night, and why make a point of being friendly to Victor and me?"

"I don't want to ruin your marriage. I am done with you, Katy. That's why I came today, to speak to you in private because I thought you would never admit me in your home. I wanted to tell you that I will not be bothering you, that you are safe in your marriage, and that you needn't keep looking over your shoulder expecting me to be there." His heels slid off the bed frame and Logan leaned forward in the rocker, resting his forearms on his knees. "In spite of what you think of me, I don't want to see you hurt."

"Perhaps not physically injured," she said, "but you were deliberately trying to hurt me."

"Yes," he said quietly. His eyes lifted to hers. "Yes, I was."

"Victor knows that you wanted me as your mistress."

"I suspected that you told him. There is a curious streak of honesty in you that appears from time to time."

She ignored the last, too weary to fight that particular battle. What did it matter what he thought of her? "He thinks you were kind at the theatre because you have admitted that he's won and you've lost."

Logan's smile was brief, brittle. "I was kind, as you call it, at Wallack's because I won and
you
lost. Victor is welcome to you as far as I am concerned. I only set out to take the most important thing I could from you—your work in the theatre. I thought making you my mistress would suit my purposes. You found another way to give me what I wanted. You married Victor and gave up acting. If you told me right now that Victor was more important to you than the theatre, I would not believe you. And if I did believe you, you would live to regret your words, because I'd find a way to take him from you, too."

Katy's face paled, making the bruise more livid. Hardly aware she was speaking her thoughts aloud, she said, "My God, you are a monster."

"Yes." He stood. "I will wait for Victor in the other room. I'll tell him what I know of what happened. You can tell him anything you damn well please."

* * *

There was little talking during the carriage ride home. Victor heard everything he wanted to hear at the hotel, which was precious little as far as he was concerned. Katy could not describe her attacker and absolutely refused to involve anyone from the hotel or ask the police to intervene. It was clear to Victor that she was holding back some piece of information and equally clear that, this time at least, Logan Marshall was not the reason. Victor saw with his own eyes that Logan's concern was genuine.

Upon returning home, Katy went straight to her room. Victor poured himself a drink in the library before he joined her. Katy was just dismissing her maid when Victor reached the bedroom. He watched his wife climb gingerly into bed, turn the pillow to the cool side, and lay her uninjured cheek against it.

Victor took a swallow of whiskey, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think I should send Harris for Dr. Turner," he said.

"No. Really, Victor, I am going to be fine."

"Logan said you would argue."

"As much as I hate to give Mr. Marshall the satisfaction of being right, I do not want a doctor. There is simply no need. Let's just forget this ever happened, shall we? It was an unfortunate occurrence, nothing more than that. I am certain my attacker's intention was to rob me, and when I caught him out, he panicked."

Victor stared at the tumbler he was rolling in his palms. He supposed Katy's story was not going to change just because they were completely alone now. He wished he could believe her. "All right," he said. "We will forget it ever happened."

The next morning Victor hired a private detective.