FRAUD: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 5

  “You having fun?” he asked, and his warm breath along my neck caused a shot of electricity to run through my body.

  “Yes, waves are bigger than yesterday though. Maybe we should head back,” I suggested as a shiver crawled up my spine. We were in deep water both in reality and figuritivly. I didn’t exactly want to fall in or fall for him even if I was a strong swimmer, even if my heart was guarded by an iron dome. With the ocean you never knew, with the heart you didn’t either.

  “Sure.” We moved toward shallower water, my breathing eased as an unexpected wave toppled us over. “Shite,” he yelled out before his body was absent behind me, and I fell into the water after him. The cool shock of the water startled me before I kicked my way back to the surface. Before my face broke through water, his hand was on my arm, pulling me to the board. “Sorry about that.”

  I was out of breath, feeling like I was in over my head. “It happens. I’m used to wiping out with the surfboard. It’s been a while since I have.” We both hung on to the board, treading water. It was deep enough that I couldn’t reach the bottom. His blue eyes were translucent as his gaze held mine, and I was drowning in them . . . in him.

  “I shouldn’t want you, but I do,” he confessed. My chest warmed, my lips ached to be kissed by him. I swallowed hard. I had to get away from him.

  “I can’t do this,” I mumbled, my heart beating at a staccato and my breaths uneven. If we were anywhere but the middle of the ocean I’d bolt. Maybe before Lily I would have swum away. Now I preferred him to take me back to shore on the windsurfer.

  “I’m sorry.” His tone was apologetic and broken. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve had too much time on my hands to think. That’s never a good thing.” He shook his head like he was admonishing himself. “I’m truly sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He sounded sympathetic and looked so darn sad I wanted to hug him and tell him he wasn’t off base. I was a moth, and he felt like my flame.

  “I would never cheat on my husband,” I deadpanned, and it wasn’t a lie. I was not a cheater. Never would be. I’d lock up whatever was happening between us.

  “I get it . . . but—” He stopped and bit his lip.

  “Can you take me back to shore? If not, I can swim.” My voice was shaky and a little snappier than I intended. There had been electricity crackling between us since I landed eyes on him in the parking lot yesterday at school.

  “I’ll take you. Climb up.” He held the board steady, and I hopped on. He climbed on after me and slowly got to his feet. “Here.” He extended a hand to help me up.

  When my hand touched his heat, want and warmth zapped through me. Blinking twice I pulled my hand back and held the sail. We began to move and I hated that I still liked his body hovering behind mine like a protective barrier. I wanted him so badly. Only I would never go there.

  Chapter Six

  Hayes

  I’d been back in New York for two weeks and still I thought of her, Natalia. Why the hell did I tell her I wanted her? Guilt ate away at me. It was an arsehole thing to do. It was Thursday night, and classes start in a week. With time on my hands, I volunteered at a soup kitchen not far from my flat, close to campus.

  As I handed out food I remembered how close mum and I came to being homeless. When she lost her job she begged my father to get off his arse and finally bring home some money, only he disappointed her time after time. I was a teenager back then. Got random jobs gardening for people who lived in Sheffield.

  A man nodded to me. “Hello.”

  He looked at me with dark painful eyes. “How are you?” I asked because I wondered how many of these people get asked that question. Something intimate about them.

  The man blinked.

  “I’m Hayes.” I smiled and filled his plate.

  He gave me a pensive look. “Fernando,” he finally said.

  “Nice to meet you.” My lips turned up. The man stopped and slowly stared at me. His lip curving ever so slightly.

  “Good to meet ya,” he answered just like that before moving on.

  I had volunteered there last year when I had time. It felt cathartic to come in and do something completely selfless. I needed that feeling. My head was in a bad space ever since I returned from Afghanistan, because even though there were no winners in war only losers. Death didn’t discriminate. Fuck! I couldn’t wait for classes to start. I’d be busy with coursework, not giving my mind time to wander. I had years of schooling ahead of me. I didn’t want to be grey by the time I got my PhD. Fast-tracking made sense all around.

  I’d met all kinds of people in the soup kitchen, some war vets which saddens me because I knew firsthand how war fucked with your head.

  “Hayes.” A man I’d met before said my name cheerfully. His name escaped me for a moment. I liked to know people on a first name basis. I wanted them to know they weren’t invisible.

  “Robert”—his name popped in my head—“how have you been?”

  His lips formed a thin line. “Not great. Can’t get rid of them dreams. Damn dreams stick in my head like glue.”

  I frowned, remembering Robert told me he fought in the Gulf War. I’m pretty sure he spent some time in a mental hospital on medication, for what I’m not sure.

  “I know what you mean, Robert. I struggle with dreams too,” I admitted, laughing in my head at the irony since I didn’t talk to the friends I’d made here in New York City about my time in the war. I still saw flashes of fire, heard the sound of gunshots and explosions around me, sometimes it was overwhelming . . . then I remembered I survived. Not all my deployed friends made it home. When I first arrived in Afghanistan, I went out of my way to get killed. It was after mum’s death. I felt alone . . . my life had no purpose. Then people were shot right before my eyes, and I became a fighter. I couldn’t honor Mum if I dropped dead on a battlefield; I fought, I survived. My scars lay beneath my skin, in my heart, my mind, my soul. Probably a lot like the men and women there. Each of them had their story of survival.

  “It sucks, man,” Robert said, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “That it does, my friend. Stay strong,” I said then thought better of it. “If you find you’re struggling, here is information for a clinic that’s free every Friday. You can drop in and have a session with a counselor.” I passed him a flyer and he nodded his head, taking it from me.

  “Thanks, Doc,” he said and moved along before I could tell him I wasn’t a doctor yet.

  There was no one left in line so I mixed the food and covered it, so it remained warm. My mind drifted to Natalia.

  Why would I tell her I wanted her? I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should go to church and confess or something. Mum went out of her way on a regular basis as I was growing up to ensure I was raised a gentleman. My father had been anything but, so she would literally point and say, “You see how your father speaks to me, Hayes . . . that’s no way to talk to a lady. You need to show kindness and respect.” I smiled at her memory. She raised me to be a good man, and I went and fucked up by telling a married woman I wanted her. Mum would be disappointed, no doubt. How did I get over this pull I had to Natalia? I arrived in Florida to visit my only family in America and she appeared like an angel rushing to get to her daughter on time, panting in the humid summer air, and to me she couldn’t have been more beautiful. Sheer magnetism pulled me to her.

  With time on my hands, I people watched. My eyes landed on Fernando. He was eating his food but seemed to be having a conversation with himself. I wondered if Fernando might suffer from mental illness. He looked to be fifty to sixty, but sometimes the people there looked older than they actually were from a harsh life. New York City definitely had its share of homeless people.

  Suddenly Fernando stood and whipped his plate across the room.

  “They are coming . . . the bad men are coming. Behave.” He held his coat closed, his eyes moving back and forth at a rapid pace.

  Mike, one of the full-time employees, walked over to him but d
idn’t get too close. My guess was Fernando was in need of hospitalized psychiatric treatment.

  Mike subdued Fernando and walked him out to a row of offices. I hoped Mike was successful in getting him the needed help.

  It was early when I left the soup kitchen. I had no plans for the evening. I texted a bloke I knew from school to see if he wanted to meet up. It was better than thinking too much on my own. As I walked toward campus he texted me back. A bunch of guys were at a popular pub close to campus. This had been one of the challenges of uni. My mates all wanted to go to bars and get piss drunk and I wanted to have fun too because after what I’d been through I deserved some fun, but for me it meant drawing a fine line between fun and serious drinking. My solution had been to not meet up with friends often because when I did, I enjoyed the buzz a few beers gave me and didn’t questioned myself about crossing the line. The crazy part of all of that was my anxiety of becoming an alcoholic stopped me from drinking, at least that was what the rational part of my mind argued when I was in the mood to be rational.

  I headed over to the pub to meet up with them. It took a good ten minutes to walk there. The place was a pick-up joint. It would be good for me to pick someone up tonight and fuck any thoughts of Natalia out of my system because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since I left Florida. Overhearing her husband had been away for three weeks then hadn’t wanted to spend time with his wife and daughter, angered me because Mum had to put up with shit like that with my father. If I were Natalia’s husband and Lily’s father, I would’ve made them my priority. I would’ve treated her the way she deserved. I pursed my lips . . . that clearly wasn’t happening. Not only was she six years older than I was, but if there was one thing I’d learned it was that you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. Maybe Natalia was happy shoveling the shite her husband served.

  I made it to the pub. The place was jam-packed. Bodies pressed close together spoke loudly over the rock music blasting in the background. That place reminded me of the pubs back home. My buddies sat in a booth toward the back, shout talking over the noise.

  “Hey.” I gave some of them a fist pump.

  “Hayes, just in time.” My buddy Simon winked. He had a girl situated on either side of him in the booth, and I felt nothing when I checked them out and they smiled back. My mind involuntarily drifted to thoughts of Natalia and my chest warmed. Fuck, I had to stop that right then.

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled at them both.

  “Catrina and Catherine,” Simon said, introducing me. “They’re cousins.” He smiled wide. I laughed at the bloody wanker. Always looking to score. Not that I wasn’t. Catherine shifted her ass a little and made room for me beside her. I ordered a beer and she sidled up next to me, smiling. She was a blonde with navy blue eyes; she was pretty, but she wasn’t Natalia. I was so fucked pining for a married woman who lived in a different state.

  After a couple of beers I went home and called my cousin Shay. We had weekly phone calls, although I had missed our call last week.

  “Hey, man.”

  “Hey, how’s life in the big city?” he asked.

  “Just getting ready to start classes again. Need to keep busy,” I explained. After my little confession to Natalia in the ocean, she’d stayed away from me the rest of the day and I flew to New York the next morning before Immy and Shay were awake. It meant my cousin hadn’t had a chance to scold me for Natalia’s bad mood. I waited for a comment.

  “Right. And how are you doing?” I heard the concern in his tone.

  “Same old.” I tried to brush it off.

  “I uh . . . don’t feel comfortable with you out there on your own if you feel like you’re dealing with a lot,” he said, but what I heard was I’m scared you’re going to off yourself if you’re feeling bad. Shite. Mum killed herself, but it didn’t mean I wanted to.

  “It’s all good, cousin. I’ll talk to a therapist,” I said. I had already signed up to see one on campus. “You don’t need to worry. I’m keeping busy.”

  “That’s good. You should get out and meet girls your age.”

  “That’s a low blow. Just come out and say whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

  He sighed heavily. “Okay. Immy and I were talking. You and Natalia became very friendly in a short amount of time. Her husband is going through a hard time, but she is married and committed to him.” This was my cousin’s polite attempt to set me straight.

  “I understand that, but I don’t think he’s treating her right.”

  “And it isn’t your spot to come in and save the day. You’re a hero in our book, let that be enough.”

  I gasped loudly at the ludicrous suggestion. “I’m barely a hero.”

  “See, that’s it. You received the Distinguished Service Cross from the Royal Navy. That’s fucking cool. You want to help people, and that’s also fucking cool.” There he was swearing again, thinking he would relate to me better that way. Internally I laughed, but it warmed me that he cared.

  “Since when do you swear so much? I hope Lewis isn’t beside you,” I chided, playing with him.

  “He’s fast asleep for hours now.” I already knew that. We were in the same time zone.

  “There’s something vacant in her eyes,” I replied off topic. He had to know I was referring to Natalia.

  He exhaled harshly. “Whatever she’s going through, she’ll get through on her own or with Immy’s help. It can’t be you,” he reiterated, his tone carrying an undercurrent of warning.

  “I’m a few states away; I know that.” I heard defeat bleed from me through my voice.

  “Besides we both know there was more there,” he said. He must have picked up on the electricity radiating between me and her when we were hanging out at the beach. There was chemistry between Natalia and I, no denying it, but my cousin was right. I couldn’t have her and I couldn’t be the one to help her if she needed it. I had to let well enough alone.

  “That doesn’t matter now, does it? Don’t fret. I would never contact her. In fact I’m completely over it.” I lied, but I had no choice. If I said the words out loud, maybe they’d come true.

  “Good. So, your plan is to bulldoze through another year?” he asked, referring to my crazy double workload.

  “That is the plan.”

  “You’re a smart bloke. You’ve got this, Hayes. Just stay focused.” I took his words to heart and believed them. I just had to stay focused.

  Chapter Seven

  Natalia

  Fall 2005

  I rushed home from another evening spent on the beach with Lily, Immy, and Lewis. It was past seven o’clock and I hadn’t prepared dinner for Mark, and I had a very tired toddler rubbing her eyes in the back seat of my SUV. Mark grew up with a mom who spent hours in the kitchen making everything from scratch, so he expected the same of me even though he didn’t come right out and say it. It was more of a silent agreement we’d reached.

  I took Lily out of the car and we rushed inside. I plopped her on the couch with her favorite TV show while I got to work in the kitchen. Luckily, I remembered to defrost meat before I left for the lab that morning. I didn’t know how to make the delicious Mexican food Mark’s mother made, but I was an okay cook and figured he’d enjoy a healthy stir-fry.

  At seven thirty Mark came through the door half an hour earlier than he said he’d be. He went over to greet Lily and gave her a kiss before coming behind me, placing his hand on my hip, and glancing over my shoulder.

  “What are you making?” he asked. I would have preferred a kiss, but my husband had a fascination with food.

  “It’s a stir-fry. I thought you might enjoy something a little different tonight.”

  “I’m starving. I was hoping you’d have the food ready,” he said, and I rolled my eyes because he couldn’t see me.

  “Sorry. We spent a little extra time at the beach, and you’re early. Besides Lily and Lewis were working on a sandcastle. You know they like to finish their project
s once they start them,” I said.

  “My little future architect.” He smiled fondly.

  “Daddy, I want to be a ballerina.” Lily smiled at Mark, stood, and started twirling.

  “That’s nice, honey.” He patted her back.

  She asked me on the way home if she could take ballet lessons with her friend Robin from school.

  “No, Daddy, I want to take ballet,” she said, her brows pinched together, her tone scolding and adorable.

  “Ballet?” he repeated and looked to me.

  “She wants to take lessons with her friend,” I explained.

  “Okay. You decide that with mommy,” he said. Jerk.

  “I want you to watch me dance,” Lily insisted and twirled again. When she stopped I could tell she was dizzy.

  “There’s a technique to twirling. You need to stop doing it that way because you will lose your balance and fall,” I explained, sounding very parental. I turned to Mark. “The rice is ready if you want to start with that.” I knew he wouldn’t want the bland rice on its own.

  He lifted the lid on the rice pot and scrunched his nose. It was steamed white rice. I thought it would complement the stir-fry.

  “I’ll wait.” He turned away and went toward our bedroom.

  “Hey, Daddy, wait,” Lily called out. If he heard her, he ignored her.

  A few years ago he opened a warehouse of closeout products but with more deal-based larger stores opening, he was having a hard time competing. Recently he began selling his closeout items online to try and generate more business, but things weren’t going too well.

  He came back to the family room five minutes later, showered and wearing a T-shirt and basketball shorts. “I spoke to my friend Mateo from LA. He had a retail store in Santa Monica. He wouldn’t mind moving to Florida for a while. We were thinking of maybe opening up a retail store close to the beach with my stock from the warehouse,” he said out of the blue. I knew he had a lot of merchandise just sitting, and he needed to sell it, but I hadn’t realized he wanted to change businesses.