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It Started That Night
Virna DePaul
Lily pulled violently away. “You don’t get it, do you? I trusted you and this is what happens. You accuse my father of murder.”
She lurched to her feet and opened the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I want you to leave.” She darted around him, then pushed him, managing to shove him back several steps.
“Lily, please. Listen to me—” She ran out the door with John close behind her.
I know you love me, he thought, just as a heavy weight slammed against the backs of John’s knees. They buckled. He landed on the ground with a muffled curse, catching himself with his hands. A series of punches caught him in the face. His lip split open. With a guttural yell, he heaved off his attacker and sent him flying several feet away. His thoughts went to Lily. Were there more? Did they have her?
Dear Reader,
My second Mills & Boon
Intrigue is centered around one tragic night that changes the lives of my hero and heroine—but not forever. One family suffers a horrible loss, a young girl’s budding love is shattered and a young man’s hopes are dashed, yet in the end things are made right. Not because of a miracle, but because two people are willing to face their fears, seek the truth and trust in each other.
In real life, tragedy doesn’t always give way to happier times. Those who hurt others aren’t always caught. Those who suffer aren’t always made whole again. Yet even in a world filled with fear and darkness, one truth shines bright—love is powerful. It heals but it also gives strength. It’s what enables humanity to press on despite the challenges we face and, with hope in our hearts, to believe that something better waits for us.
I hope you enjoy Lily and John’s story and that it empowers you to keep moving toward your own Happily Ever After, whatever that may be.
Wishing you much love and happiness,
Virna DePaul
About the Author
VIRNA DEPAUL was an English major in college and, despite a passion for Shakespeare, Broadway musicals and romance novels, somehow ended up with a law degree. For ten years, she was a criminal prosecutor for the state of California. Now she’s thrilled to be writing stories about complex individuals (fully human or not) who are willing to overcome incredible odds for love.
It Started
That Night
Virna DePaul
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Since I began this story it has undergone numerous
changes. To everyone who helped it come to fruition,
thank you!
Hugs to Holly and Matrice for all your support!
And as always, love to my boys,
who are my brightest light.
Prologue
August 28
8:45 p.m.
Sacramento, CA
John Tyler sat in front of his house as the sounds of the party inside drifted toward him. He closed his eyes, trying to find comfort in the darkness. Instead, he felt trapped, unable to forget Tina Cantrell’s parting words.
“Lily’s a good girl. Too good for you. If you care about her at all, send her home and stay the hell away from her.”
John opened his eyes and faced the truth.
Lily’s mother was right.
Sixteen to his twenty, Lily had her whole life ahead of her and their friendship had already caused a rift between her and her parents, one that had only widened once her father had left. John didn’t want to be the cause of further sorrow for her. Despite how he felt about her—despite the fact he wanted more and so did she—it couldn’t happen. His leaving town tomorrow would be a fresh start for both of them. He didn’t even know what he was going to do for money, but he had a friend in Seattle he could crash with for—
He heard footsteps. For a moment, he wondered if Lily’s mom had returned, but then she came into view.
Lily. Sweet Lily, his sister Carmen’s best friend. Even though he’d been forewarned, the shock of seeing her here, now, almost brought him to his knees.
The house lights cast her in a dim, almost surreal glow. His eyes immediately took in her loose hair, and the simple black dress that cinched her unbelievably tiny waist and revealed her pale arms and legs. She’d rimmed her eyes in black makeup that made their faintly exotic tilt even more mysterious. Her mouth was tinted red.
Lord, she was beautiful. He’d known she had a crush on him, but neither one of them had ever acknowledged it. He’d wanted to. Sometimes he’d felt desperate to take her love and give her his in return. But thankfully he’d never done so. She was still innocent, unsullied by his choices and reputation.
He jerked his chin at her and clenched his fists. “A little late for you to be out, isn’t it? Carmen’s not—”
Lily ran toward him and threw her arms around his neck. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her to steady them both.
“I’m not here for Carmen.” Her body trembled and he realized she was crying. He frowned when he thought he smelled alcohol on her. Frowned harder when he saw what appeared to be red marks and scratches on her neck and a purple mark on her pale cheek. Raising his hand, he touched it gently.
“What’s this?”
She lifted her chin but didn’t answer. Leaning down to examine her eyes, he softly inhaled; the scent of alcohol faded, replaced by the fruity scent of her shampoo. But her pupils were dilated, indicating she was under the influence of something. Then again, she was also upset, which could explain—
“I have to tell you before you leave,” she whispered. “I love you.”
John dropped his hands and straightened. Panic and temptation warred within him. Knowing he needed to make her leave for both their sakes, he patted her shoulder. “I love you, too, small fry. You know that. You’re family.”
She frowned, clinging to him when he tried to pull away. “I don’t need more family. I can’t handle the one I have.”
“Lily—”
Moving quickly, she placed her hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers.
Her body, so small and fragile, pressed against him.
Her lips clung to his, soft and sweet.
And for one second—just one—his lips responded.
He jerked away and staggered back. She’d already lost her father to another woman. He couldn’t risk alienating her from her mother, too. “Go home, Lily.”
The confusion on her face was unmistakable.
“I—I love you—”
“What’s this about, Lily?” He pretended to search the darkness. “Did you and your parents plan this?”
If she’d looked confused before, now she looked stunned. “What?”
“Your father the cop. Are you trying to set me up? He didn’t get me on drug charges, so why not try for statutory rape?”
She just stared at him.
He grabbed her arms. “Are you?”
She pushed futilely against his hold. “N-no,” she said. “I’m alone. I just needed you to know how I feel.”
“Well now I know. And you know what? It doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
She swallowed audibly. “I—I don’t believe you,” she whispered, tilting up her chin. Looking like she was getting ready to fight him until he admitted he was lying.
Damn, she was amazing.
Desperately, he said, “That’s because you’re a kid.”
She paled. “Kid?” she whispered and backed up.
“Yeah. A kid.”
Hurt spread across her features and his stomach clenched. He forced himself to continue. “Here’s some advice. Lose the makeup. It makes you look trashy. And whoever taught you to kiss didn’t do a very good job.”
She froze and stared at him. “You can teach me—”
Shouts of laughter interrupted her. She looked over his shoulder, her eyes widening so much they practically swallowed her whole.
Whirling around, he saw his ex-girlfriend Stacy surrounded by her friends. All standing in the open doorway. All laughing at them. At Lily.
John gritted his teeth and struggled for calm, when all he wanted was to rip them apart. Instead, he walked toward Stacy with determined steps, grabbed her face, and kissed her hard. Her tongue eagerly surged against his, wet and agile, and she grasped his hair, her long fingernails cutting into his scalp in a way that had always been arousing.
He felt nothing. Nothing but desperation.
Tearing himself away, he saw the smug satisfaction in Stacy’s eyes. “Now why don’t you…” He turned toward Lily and stopped.
She was gone.
Chapter 1
Fifteen years later …
Lily Cantrell opened her front door and stared at the man who had his hand raised to knock again. He was tall, dark-haired and wore a yellow button-down shirt and jacket with jeans. His shoulders were broad and his eyes were still the most beautiful shade of blue she’d ever seen. Despite the years that had separated them, he’d been the only man she’d ever loved, even after he’d rejected her so ruthlessly. Even after…
“Hello, small fry,” John said, his voice deeper than she remembered. “It’s good to see you again.”
The years had perfected his masculine frame. He’d gotten bigger. Broader. The strong angles of his cheeks and jaw provided a rugged framework for the dark slash of his eyebrows above his pale blue eyes, and the prominent thrust of his nose and the sensual line of his wide mouth proclaimed him to be a bit of a barbarian. Fine lines gathered at the corner of his eyes, telling her without a doubt the boy she’d loved had grown into a man to be reckoned with.
John pushed back his hair in a familiar gesture that twisted her insides with longing and pain.
“You going to invite me in, Lily?”
Invite him in?
Instinctively she raised a hand to her cheek. Fifteen years ago, her mother had slapped her for the first and only time. All because Lily had insisted on going to see him, this man, the boy her mother had warned was too old for her and would only end up hurting her. She’d been right, but Lily never had a chance to tell her so. She’d never had a chance to say she was sorry for the terrible things she’d said. And she’d never had a chance to say goodbye.
Before any of that could happen, her mother had died. Now, days before the man responsible was to be executed, John suddenly showed up?
Her first instinct was to slam the door. To hide. To run. But she couldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
She’d acted like an ungrateful, selfish child once and soon afterward her mother had been murdered. She wouldn’t disgrace her mother’s memory any more than she had. She wouldn’t run from this man now.
She stepped out onto the porch, shutting the front door behind her. “What do you want, John?”
He didn’t smile, but she could swear his eyes did. “Good to see you, too, Lily. Can I come in?”
She shook her head. “Answer my question.”
“I’d really like to talk about it inside—”
“And I’d really like you to tell me why you’re here before I call the cops.”
“No need. They’re already here.” He pulled out a thick black leather flasher wallet and showed her a shiny badge and accompanying picture ID.
“You’re a cop?” She couldn’t disguise the shock in her voice. He’d been the ultimate bad boy. Accused of doing drugs and worse.
“I’m a detective with El Dorado County Sheriff’s Department.”
“El Dorado County? But why—” Realization made her eyes widen. “Is this about the execution?” The execution of her mother’s murderer wasn’t something Lily was taking any pleasure in. In fact, with the dreams having started up again, she’d been trying not to think about the execution at all. She just prayed that afterward she and her family would find some measure of peace, peace that had been eluding them. Her work with her art-therapy patients helped a lot, but—
John’s jaw tightened. “I’m not here to cause trouble. This doesn’t have to be a battle between us, Lily.”
He’s changed. Still intense, but more controlled. Confident. He didn’t need to play the bad boy anymore. He was prime alpha male, sure of himself, not caring what others thought about him.
Well, she’d grown up, too. “This is about the execution, isn’t it?”
