“Can I help you?”
Christian focused on the woman in front of him. She was obviously Hope’s friend since Hope had spent the afternoon sitting with her and talking. Her laughter had been a soft wind through the grounds. “I was just prowling around. The festival isn’t supposed to start until tomorrow, but I see it’s already going strong.”
The woman with straight brown hair smiled, her whole face alight. She was actually quite beautiful. “I’m afraid most of these people don’t believe in schedules. You know Sasquatches don’t have timepieces.”
He smiled his most charming smile. Here was another sweet, innocent little lamb. He liked his lamb rare. “I’m Chris. I would love some of that cider if you have some left.”
“Hello, I’m Nell.” She reached behind her and grabbed a cup. With a practiced hand, she poured a measure of cider into a mug. “Here you go. If you like, you can take the mug with you. Just leave it at one of the other shops. Everyone knows to send them back this way. I can’t do disposables, I’m afraid.”
Christian practically salivated. The little idiot spoke a language he knew well. “I admire you for that, Nell. I travel across the country trying to educate people about the cost of our disposable society. I like your setup here. It’s very earth friendly.”
Her brown eyes lit up. She was a true believer. “Everything is reusable. I lose a few mugs every year, but you would be surprised at how many people bring them back. People are inherently good.”
He wasn’t, but he knew some who were. And lucky for him, they usually proved to be the ones with no protections. If he had time, he would think about charming the lady. She was older than his usual, but then Hope wasn’t sixteen anymore, and he was still obsessed with her. Perhaps he was maturing. Alas, he had a wife to reclaim. And his own almost murder to avenge. He wasn’t sure if he intended to make love to Hope or bury her.
Maybe both.
He shook his head and tried to flush a little. “I have to ask you something embarrassing.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, you can ask me anything, I’m very open.”
“There was a woman here earlier.” He made sure to stutter a little, happy with the sympathetic gleam in her eyes. “She was so lovely. She was a brunette wearing a skirt and a button-down. Look, I don’t want to come off as some creepy stalker…”
“Then don’t.” A man came out of the tent, his eyes hard behind what looked to be relatively thick glasses.
“Henry, don’t be rude,” Nell admonished.
“Never, my love.” But the man didn’t take his eyes off Christian. He stood there like a Bohemian guard watching over a prize.
Nell winked at Henry and turned back to Christian. “Don’t mind him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just likes to play jealous sometimes.”
It seemed this little innocent wasn’t so unprotected. Though the man wasn’t the tallest man or bulky, there was strength in his frame. But the eyes were what gave him away. He might have his wife fooled, but somewhere in the past this Henry had hurt far more than a fly. Christian would bet Henry hadn’t always been a peddler of apple cider.
“It’s all right,” Christian said, taking a step back.
“I have to admit, sometimes his caveman tendencies come in handy. But you were talking about Hope,” Nell began.
“Her name is Hope? That’s lovely.” He’d always loved her name. It was the perfect name for the child bride of a preacher who made his way in the world by suckering in the hopeless.
“Oh, Hope is wonderful,” Nell said and then laughed a bit. “But I’m afraid you’re a little late.”
“Late?”
“Uhm, she’s taken. She might not know it, but her men do.”
Christian’s brain caught on that one simple noun. “Men?”
“Yeah, welcome to Bliss. We’re pretty tolerant. We have some very happy polyamorous trios. Just trios though. If you want something really crazy like a six-way, you have to go to Wilde, but I’ve heard it’s lovely there this time of year.”
Christian prayed the smile he gave Nell didn’t hint at what he was feeling inside. Fury rolled in his gut. He’d seen that man sitting at Hope’s feet, her fingers patting his head. He hadn’t thought much about it. Hope had always been a very tactile person. She’d always hugged her friends and held hands.
What if Hope had been doing something she shouldn’t? He’d been so sure she wouldn’t even look at another man. She’d been in his thrall. Hope would have done anything for him. She’d looked at him like he was the sun in the sky. The truth of the matter was she hadn’t seemed to like sex. It was one of the things he’d found attractive about her. She was a lady. He would never have married a whore.
Perhaps sometimes ladies turned into whores.
“You really liked her, huh?” Nell asked, her face lined with sympathy.
He had a sudden vision of slitting little Nell’s throat. He could do it easily. She would be a soft, sweet gazelle in a lion’s jaws. She wouldn’t have time to scream before his knife cut through her throat and started spilling her blood on the ground. That would make him happy. That would calm his beast. She looked enough like Hope that he could pretend Nell was her.
Christian took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to do that. Well, not now anyway. He had to keep his eyes on the prize. Eight years and he’d just about put his group back together. He had everything in place. He was ready to start a new website and to begin building his followers. It had taken the millions he’d fleeced out of his previous followers to clean up the mess Hope had left when she’d started that fire, but he’d built himself back up over the years he’d been in hiding.
And he’d fucking done it for her while she was finding another man.
Christian shrugged. “She just reminded me of someone I knew. My wife.”
“I am so sorry. Did you lose her?”
Yes, he’d lost her. He’d lost her to her own feminine weakness. Without a strong man around to keep her in line, she’d given in to her proclivities. “She died eight years ago in a fire.”
“That’s terrible.”
What was even worse was that her body had lived on even after her soul had given in to darkness. Christian’s brain was reeling. He’d never thought for a single second that she wouldn’t be at his side when he reemerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes. She would be with him. One way or another, but perhaps the time had come to change tactics. He’d come here to watch her, to find out just how easy it would be to convince her to come with him, to forgive him for not hiding his masculine tempers.
He knew he’d made mistakes, but never had he allowed another woman into his heart.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Nell.”
“Mrs. Flanders.” The man named Henry corrected him with a flat tone.
Nell rolled her eyes and giggled a bit. “He’s so possessive.”
Any real man was. No real man would allow his property to be violated.
Christian nodded, left the mug, and walked off. It was time to move this plan forward. He pulled out his cell phone. He wasn’t an idiot. He had men in place. He was never without his followers. He explained what he wanted and then turned back toward the town.
It was time to talk to the sheriff.
James had to force his hands to stop shaking. Control. He was in control. He had to be.
Hope had said yes. Well, not yes, exactly, but she’d assented. Now if only he’d managed to keep Noah out of it everything would be perfect, but the little bastard had managed to insert himself into the situation.
It had been a natural thing once. Before they had slept with their first woman, an adventurous college student from Boulder on spring break, he and Noah had made a game plan. They had sat up the night before deciding who would handle what and how to bring her the most pleasure they could. They’d been invited to spend four days in her bed before she’d gone back to school.