Page 58 of Storm Warning
Relief and dread washed over Nick in equal measure as Zach continued. “Of course David contacted me, since it’s also a security matter. I’ll call and tell her what happened: you aren’t at the resort, someone spoofed your email, and we’re looking into the who, why, and how. It may not make her leave, but she should back off.”
Nick ran his hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. “Maybe. She’s pretty keen on the idea of a rich husband. She may not give up that easily.”
He looked over at Marguerite, uncertainty tightening his chest. “What do I do about Kate?” The thought of her made his lungs constrict, made it hard to draw a full breath.
She smiled at him, her eyes warm and loving. “What do you want, Nick? You can explain Jessica, but first, you need to figure out what you truly want. If you are going to address her concerns, that is where you should start. Take some time to think it over, and then we can decide what steps to take.”
She rested her hands on his cheeks, a soft touch filled with comfort, like the warmth of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “You deserve to be happy. Kate is a remarkable woman—she is not just a pretty face like your Barbie dolls.”
Guilt mixed with confusion as Marguerite paused, studying his face with her all-seeing gaze. “Did you say Kate mentioned something about different worlds?”
“Yes,” he replied, mentally reviewing her words. “She said something about writing smut books and how I’m a wealthy CEO from a completely different world. Why, does it matter?”
“Smut books? That is how she described her writing, her career? Hmm.” Marguerite tilted her head in thought, a slight frown creasing her forehead. “It sounds like she has some of her own issues to work through, too.” Her expression softened again, and she smiled at him. “Maybe she has past wounds too, making it hard for her to see the present clearly.”
With that, she turned and left the kitchen, Zach and David followed, their footsteps fading down the hallway, leaving Nick alone. Marguerite’s words settled around him, frustration and yearning churning in his gut. He didn’t know how to navigate this chaotic jumble of feelings and expectations, wasn’t used to feeling this much—this raw ache hollowing him out from the inside.
He leaned on the counter, the marble cool against his back, and closed his eyes, trying to unravel the tangle. The house lay silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of waves. His mind replayed Kate’s face on the beach—the hurt in her eyes, the set of her shoulders as she’d turned away. The memory carved deeper with each replay.
What did he want?
Chapter 30
Fracture
A knock echoedthrough the stillness of Kate’s suite. Her heart leapt. Was it Nick? No, that was ridiculous. He wouldn’t come here, and he wouldn’t be using the front door. Still, a spark of hope smoldered.
She tiptoed to the door, heart thudding against her ribs like a trapped bird, and peered through the viewer. A bellman stood there, a note clutched in his hand. Her heart sank.
With a shaky breath, she unlocked the door and opened it. “Yes?” Kate asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Good morning, Ms. Danvers. I have a note for you.” He handed her the envelope, his expression polite, before disappearing down the path.
Shutting the door behind him, she stared at the envelope. Her name was printed on the front, nothing else. Unease coiled in her gut, tightening with every second like a snake preparing to strike. She tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The words hit her like a punch:
Go back where you belong. This is your only warning.
Dread swelled inside her, a dark wave crashing over the last remnants of hope. But then, something ignited beneath thatdread, a surge of anger burning hot in her chest. Great. Just what she needed—vague threats from some coward.
She crumpled the note viciously, the sharp crackle of paper tearing loud in the quiet room before she tossed it away like yesterday’s trash.
The clock chimed ten; the sound cutting through her despair. She grabbed her phone with trembling fingers and dialed Callie’s number. Desperation clawed at her throat, urging her to reach out, to find some solace in her friend’s voice.
Isolation clung to her like a heavy blanket, smothering and inescapable. Ever since she’d run from Nick, the weight of her decision had pressed down on her lungs until she could barely breathe—she’d cried enough to fill an ocean. Emotions still swelled within her, threatening to spill over.
“Callie...” As soon as Callie picked up, the dam broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and fast, each sob laced with disbelief that tore from somewhere deep inside.
“Oh god, what’s happened? Tell me, Kate.” Callie’s voice snapped with concern.
“I broke up with Nick,” she sobbed as she sank onto the sofa, the cushions enveloping her like a cloud even as sorrow weighed her down like lead. Images of the bar, of Jessa, flashed in her mind—shards of hurt and anger swirling together in a dizzying kaleidoscope.
“Last night, I went to the bar for dinner. It should have been a nice evening, but I was sitting there chatting with Walter when this disgustingly gorgeous blonde strutted up to the bar. She looked like a model straight out of a magazine, and she demanded to know where Nick was. She said she was engaged to him, and my heart just… stopped.” The words caught in her throat, jagged and painful.
“Holy shit, Kate. Are you serious? That slime! How could he ask you out when he was engaged?” Callie’s outrage crackledthrough the phone like electricity, pulling Kate back from the edge of despair.
“That’s what I thought!” Kate replied, her voice shaky, a knot tightening in her stomach until nausea rose. “I confronted him this morning at the beach. I told him everything, how Jessa had come up to the bar and how could he possibly do this to me? He denied knowing a Jessa.”
“Really? That’s odd. Tell me more. Let’s start at the bar. Did you speak to the bimbo?” Callie urged, her tone encouraging yet probing.