When the Heart Lies

When the Heart Lies - By Christina North


Chapter 1





Pasties—. God damn pasties. Savannah wore a G-string, too, but the six-inch, glimmering, aluminum tassels covering Savannah’s nipples were what Kinsley fixated on. They were spinning in her three year-old, Max’s, face as he giggled and pointed.





She reached for Max …

Her quick movements made her lose her balance. Florida’s late summer heat wave turned the box-like house into an Easy Bake Oven, and her empty stomach made her light headed. Throw in her toddler attending his first peep show? She fainted.

It was close to midnight when Kinsley Wentworth arrived at Lakeside Wellness Center. The thunderstorm raging outside and the heavy drapes covering the windows kept the private room cozy and dark. The medication the doctor prescribed to calm her anxiety kicked in around two. But it didn’t help much. Still restless, her mind darted back to the previous night. In no time, her heart beat fast, and her pulse drummed through her head. The blood rush to her brain left her body shivering.

She burrowed deeper under her covers and punched her pillow more than necessary, fattening it up. It didn’t comfort her, and she continued to wrestle sleeplessness until Wayde’s unmistakable throaty voice and full-knuckle assault on the door filled the room. She hurried out of bed as he entered and stood guarded.

“Now, Kinsley. Just stay calm.”

“Stay calm?” Her hands landed on her hips, and she couldn’t keep her lip from twitching on the snarled side no matter how hard she grit her teeth. “I’m in a hospital because of your tramp niece, Savannah. An anxiety attack, for the love of God. Is Max alone with her now?”

“What if he is?”

She scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.” Her eyes shifted from his and then back again. Once I’m discharged, we’re leaving Florida and getting away from you.”

“Relax. He’s fine. Ya got nothin’ to bitch about. This place is more hotel than hospital.” He reached for her, and she backed away.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Stay the hell away from me.”

His mouth bunched with resentment, and he lunged toward her. She stumbled backward, settling abruptly on the edge of the bed. Her arms and legs backpedaled fast as she scooted on her ass, putting distance between them. He swooped down, snatched her feet with a yank, and laid her out swiftly. His sloppy, middle-aged body crash-landed on top of her, and his eyes fell dead even with hers. Instinctively, her mouth opened to scream, but his heavy, calloused hand covered it crudely. When she struggled to get away, he trapped her face beneath his own. His wiry, grey stubble scratched the soft, pale skin of her cheek as she squirmed.

“Always resisting me. You like the struggle—doncha?”

A gust of pungent breath smelling of cigarettes and coffee nauseated her. She fought to let herself free, but it was no use. Double her size, he rendered her motionless. She closed her eyes and let her body fall slack beneath him. The pressure of his hand on her mouth lessened, but she stayed still, realizing that if she screamed, hurting Max might not be beyond him.

“That’s right. Settle down now,” he said in a hushed voice as his free hand began petting her long dark hair at the temple. “You’re not gonna holler if I take my hand off your pretty little mouth, are ya, darlin’?”

Tears sneaked from beneath the corners of her closed eyes, rolling down and wetting her hair. She sniffled, attempting to suck back the moisture seeping from her nose and tickling her lip. Slowly, his hand slid away from her mouth and cradled her head close to his. He breathed a nasal sigh, and the moist, hot stream of his exhale blew into her ear. She fought to keep her body from cringing in disgust and angering him further.

In a ghost-like whisper, she said, “We’re going back to New York.” Even as the words slipped from her mouth, she knew they shouldn’t have.

His anger intensified, and he vaulted from the bed, releasing her small frame fast. She rebounded with an unexpected jolt. Stunned, she stayed put.

When he took a step toward her and his hand rose, she flinched, but he didn’t strike her. He simply shook his ramrod-straight finger at her as he hovered.

“I’m here as a reminder. If you’re worried about Max, get back home. You ain’t going nowhere, and even if I let ya, where would you go? Your playboy husband’s finished with you. And don’t forget …” His two fingers spread, and he lifted them to his eyes. Aiming, he drew them forward, targeting hers.

She didn’t react. Intimidation was his usual way of communicating. Wayde never out-and-out said he’d hurt Max, but the implication was always clear. “Keep me happy, and Max will be fine.”

He turned to leave and glanced back when he reached the door. “I reckon I’ll bring Max tonight. Seein’ him’ll remind you to keep your mouth shut, and do as I say.” He chuckled and walked away. “Love ya—darlin’.”

The teasing singsong goodbye annoyed her.

Once the clatter of his footsteps faded into the distance, her tense body lay back, surrendering to the softness of the bed. The adrenaline that had overcome her vanished, allowing her thoughts to drift back five months prior. She had met Wayde online. He said he was searching for her brother, Drew, wanting to catch up with him and inadvertently found her. He was Drew’s Sergeant. He lured her with his charm and the promise to help find Drew who went missing after returning home from Afghanistan. They forged a friendship, and three months later, despite the fact she was still legally married to her estranged husband, Nick, she moved to Florida, hoping for a better future for her and her son. Shortly after moving in with Wayde, she realized he wasn’t anyone she should’ve gotten involved with. Every word he said was a fabrication. It didn’t take long for her to both hate and fear him.

Just as she was about to drag herself from the bed, the door opened, and a nurse with a clipboard peeked in.

“Need to get your vitals.”

Kinsley sat up on the side of the bed and nodded her in. The nurse wasted no time as she popped a plastic sheathed, electronic thermometer into her mouth and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. The cuff expanded, squeezing until her arm was numb and tingling as if tiny pins danced beneath her skin.

The nurse looked at the numbers on the blood pressure machine. “Perfect. Seems the medication and fluids the doctor ordered were just what you needed. Still, we’ll be keeping an eye on you.” The nurse shook her head, chastising her. “You should’ve let us leave the IV in. Breakfast is in a half-hour, and you have an appointment with Dr. Pierce at ten. Someone will be in later to check on you. Let me know if you need anything.” Not waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Within minutes, Kinsley’s stomach growled with nauseating emptiness. Eating sounded like a good idea. She got up to open the closet door and looked around. The room, she was sure, cost a small fortune. Decorated in pale greens, with white wicker furniture, plush floral carpet, and fresh-cut flowers on the dressing table, it was peaceful. Unlike the ramshackle house that Wayde lived in. It left her longing for the safety and comfort of her home in New York. Regardless, emotions couldn’t rule her fate. She reminded herself to be positive and pushed the thought away. Today, she needed to convince the doctor that she felt fine. She had never experienced fainting or an anxiety attack, and her blood pressure had always been within normal range. She was a healthy twenty-eight year-old woman. Surely, he’d see that.

Another goal would be to make a phone call. If she contacted her husband, Nick, in New York, they would work something out, and she’d be certain Max was safe. Life with Nick was often unhappy—and lonely. After almost seven years of marriage, she eventually gave up. Still, having to face that she shut him and everyone else out to go live with Wayde wasn’t easy. Having to admit she’d been so reckless to put herself and her child at risk tormented her. The safest place for Max would be with Nick, at least for now. His grandmother, Angela, would help; she loved Max, and him staying with them a few days would be fine. Although Kinsley’s feelings for Nick paled in comparison to what they once were, she needed him. Her son deserved a normal life, and she was going to make sure he lived one. If Nick would have her, she would do what whatever was necessary to make things right.

~ ~ ~

The pool and patio of the Wentworth Estate in Sterling Shore, New York rivaled the best hotels. Luxury was a given. That, and influence. Each paired well with the Wentworth name.

Refreshed from his morning swim, Xavier Wentworth shook the water from his thick wavy hair and ran his fingers through it, creating a tousled, sexy style. Prematurely greyed by thirty, his hair was nearly white at fifty-two. He was strikingly handsome, and his smooth skin had just enough wrinkles to appear distinguished.

With impeccable timing, as always, his personal assistant handed him a plush terrycloth robe and a towel. “Your robe, Mr. Wentworth.”

“Thank you, Jonathan.”

After drying his tall, toned body, he tossed the towel aside, slipped into his robe, and settled into the chair in front of his usual place setting. Reading his morning paper by the poolside with a steaming cup of coffee was his favorite ritual of the day. Other than this reprieve, he rarely had a minute to himself. Although family money had passed down, his keen skill with international investments, predominantly in the Netherlands, had tripled his wealth.

As Jonathan was about to return to the house, Xavier pulled away from his steaming black coffee and motioned with a raised hand, getting his attention. “Jonathan, would you get Olivia on the phone for me please?”

“Yes, Mr. Wentworth, certainly.”

Jonathan was strictly professional, in both habit and personality, and he only doled out wisdom or opinion if specifically asked, which was often. Xavier trusted him more than he trusted anyone. He considered him a friend.

Jonathan returned promptly and handed him the phone. “She’s on the line now, sir.”

He took hold of the receiver and nodded a thank you to Jonathan. “Good morning, Olivia. Were you able to talk to Jackson?” Phone to his ear, he leaned back into the overstuffed patio chair and settled his elbow on the armrest to get comfortable.

Olivia, the youngest and first female captain of the Le Grand Police Precinct in Florida and his longtime friend, answered. “Yes. Jackson’s at Lakeside now. He’ll make first contact at breakfast. Kinsley’s fine. Don’t worry. Lakeside’s a renowned private wellness center for the elite. People travel from all over the country to be there, and Jackson’s the best private investigator I know. You’ll get your information, and she’ll be well cared for.”

“Good, very good. He got there fast. Has he been able to find anything out?”

“Details will take time. Dr. Pierce was leery of Jackson’s being there to watch her, but he knows Jackson. He’s his uncle, from what I gather. They’re not on good terms according to Jackson, but Pierce agreed he could stay. He’s stretching the law, but hell, he owns Lakeside, and I assured him no one would ever find out he authorized anything. I set up full cover for Jackson, and only Pierce will know why he’s there.”

He put the call on speaker, laid the phone on the table, and leaned over to spoon some blueberries into his oatmeal as Olivia continued talking.

“Jackson will be keeping close contact throughout her stay. He asked me to flag Wayde’s address when he began the job. I thought flagging was overkill on a surveillance case. Good thing he did, though. The officers called me right away; I would’ve never gotten to you so quickly if they hadn’t. I’ll keep the address posted in case anything else goes on at the house while Max is there without Kinsley.”

Jonathan picked up the used towel Xavier had strewn over the patio chair. Before Jonathan left his side, Xavier mouthed silent words to get a pen. “Glad you got to me right away. I informed Dr. Pierce I’m her father-in-law, and I wanted to be sure she’s okay and that my main concern is for her comfort until he thinks she’s well enough to leave. He assures me she’s doing fine medically. I need Jackson to find out if she’s all right otherwise. I didn’t get into anything personal. Apparently, the EMT’s report stated she suffered an anxiety attack and fainted. When they arrived, her blood pressure was extremely low. They had no choice, but to transport her for further evaluation. Pierce understood why I don’t want her to know I’m the one who arranged and paid for her stay. He said he’d keep me updated.”

He scribbled instructions onto the paper Jonathan laid in front of him, passed it back to him, and continued with his conversation. “Have someone else cover Max until Kinsley returns to Wayde’s house, and I want audio in there as soon as possible. Max’s safety is essential. Keep me abreast of what’s happening. If the information’s important, you tell my staff to interrupt me.”

“What should I tell them?”

“It doesn’t matter what you tell them. Just get through to me.”

“Xavier, tell me to mind my own business if you must, but why aren’t you telling Nick and Angela you’re having Kinsley watched?”

His lips flattened, retreating into his mouth as he bit down. When he expelled the breath he held in, he responded. “There’s no need for them to know. I don’t want anyone involved right now. I promised Kinsley she’d have space, and I’m already violating that. I’m going to try to prompt Nick into going after her himself. I won’t tell him where she is, he’d wonder how I knew, I’ll just point him in the right direction. If he won’t, it has to be this way.”

“Your call.”

His gaze moved upward, and he saw his wife coming onto the patio. Angela had the same demeanor she did when they met thirty-four years ago. She acted as if she was born privileged. In those days, she was his princess. Now, her manner was simply unattractive.

“You’re not doing business already this morning, are you? You’d think you do enough work with the amount of time you spend at the office.” She stood waiting.

“I have to go.” He cut off his call and gave her a displeased glance before spooning the last of his oatmeal into his mouth.

“Well, are you going to force me to pull a good morning out of you?” Her voice could take on the most grating quality when she was unhappy.

Tight lipped, he offered her a half-hearted smile. “No, dear.”

She shut up, but continued to stand beside the table, rearranging her flawlessly styled, pixy length, black hair. When he persisted to ignore her, she tilted her chin downward and looked from beneath her lashes, scolding him.

Paying no attention to her attitude, he pushed his empty bowl to the side, settled himself behind his Wall Street Journal, and offered his usual, “Good morning, darling.”

Satisfied, she smoothed her impeccably pressed, designer skirt, so it hugged her well-rounded bottom, and sat down across from him. She began thumbing through her daily planner. “Have you spoken to Nick lately?”

He snapped his newspaper to attention and continued reading. “The last I knew he was in Atlantic City. Probably boozing and whoring. He’s been acting like a fool since Kinsley left. I understand his initial reaction, but it’s been three months.”

She gave him a dismissive wave. “How can you talk like that about your own son? Don’t you love him? He’ll get over her.”

“I love him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a disappointment at times. He wouldn’t have to get over her if he’d wake up and think of anyone but himself for a change. She might’ve never left if he did.”

She hunched over the table and spoke in a whisper through clenched teeth. “Things have been hard on him this year.”

He darted his head from behind the paper. “He’s had things too damn easy lately if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.” She sighed heavily and went back to her planner. “We’re having dinner tonight with the Ericsons at the club, and we’re attending a benefit at the hospital tomorrow evening.”

He stood to leave, but paused and turned to her, annoyed. “Wonderful. I know how important maintaining our social obligations is to you. I’ll be at the office until seven.” He folded his paper, tossed it in front of her, and left.

~ ~ ~

Kinsley stripped off her gown and headed into the shower. After a superfast one, she hurried from the bathroom, grabbed her purse, and dumped what little make-up it contained onto the dresser. Good. Her perfume was here. She pulled on a sky blue tank top and tugged on her favorite worn-out jeans, jumping up and down as she wiggled into the perfect fit. After towel-drying her hair, the natural waves fell into place, ending inches below her breast. The sunlight streaming through the small opening in the drapes highlighted the dark chestnut color, revealing an array of rich, red undertones. She spread her lips taut, covering her teeth, to create a smooth canvas to apply the rose blush lipstick and then followed with a light overlay of mascara to the lashes of her cobalt blue eyes. Once she finished preening, she slipped her feet into the comfortable leather flip-flops she tossed into her bag when she left the house. Out of habit, she peeked into the mirror and pouted her full lips. Not bad at all.

The heavy wooden door to her room pulled open easier than expected, slamming against the wall. She stepped out smiling at random strangers and pretending the loud bang came from somewhere else. The dining and social areas were only a few feet in front of her. Breakfast was still being served. Rich aromas of coffee and baked goods filled the large room where casual guest and staff conversations lingered just below a tranquil, piped-in melody. That, and the tasteful decor, made the place resemble an upscale private club.

She passed up everything from freshly baked croissants to made-to-order omelets. Instead, she scooped up some scrambled eggs, grabbed some toast and coffee, and looked around for a place to sit. In the far corner, she spotted an empty table for two. As she slid into her seat, a man, not too much older than she was, settled into the seat opposite her. They glanced at each other, lowered their heads, and started eating. The awkward silence was uncomfortable.

“Kinsley,” she said, expecting him to respond with his name.

No acknowledgement came, only the blank gaze of his compelling brown eyes with golden, starburst-patterned irises that stared from beneath fallen strands of sun-streaked hair. As far as she could tell, nothing was registering. Yet, he continued to stare. They were the type of eyes you’d want to take a second peek at. She didn’t and turned away, but not before noticing his near perfect build. A few minutes went by before he spoke and interrupted her short infatuation.

“Jackson.” His voice was authoritative. Yet, his response was long and drawn-out as if he were distracted. Possibly, her silky, dark curls falling beneath her full breasts sidetracked him. His eyes lingered smack dab on them as he said his name. She wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a post-coital cigarette. If he did, he had better make it a chocolate one. His long silence and spacey introduction got to her, and she responded with an annoyed half-hearted smile. Yet, she didn’t look away. She kept willing herself to, but she never did.

His head tilted in a pleading way, and he met her gaze. “Honestly—I’m sorry.”

“No problem.” She wasn’t sure why, but she softened her voice to sound especially forgiving. Finally able to lower her eyes, she continued fiddling with her food. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage him.

He cleared his throat, politely catching her attention. When she didn’t respond, he glanced away and back again. “Give me a break. Okay?” He grinned, and the little clef in his chin deepened, making his smile even more appealing.

Sincerity radiated from his eyes. That, combined with their jewel-like quality, was indeed an unneeded distraction. “Break given. Forget about it.” Trying to avoid continuing with the conversation, she gave him another brief smiled before returning to her meal.

Looking doubtful of her forgiveness, he cocked his head and laid on the charm. “Okay, I’ll even admit I was staring. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You’re stunning.”

Apparently, smiles weren’t enough for him. His persistence bothered her, but only because he stirred her up inside. Although flattered, she was only concerned with leaving Florida, returning to New York, and getting Max settled into a semblance of a normal life again. She placed her fork on her plate and gave him her full attention. “Me? Or my breasts?”

“Both.”

She softened her expression, and his smile broadened. How could she fault him for picking the absolute worse time to flirt with her? With a nonchalant scan, he gave her the once over. She felt his eyes sliding over her body. When he angled in for a better look, his smile pulled to the side, and he appeared thoughtful. She could tell he approved. The sensations it brought on prompted her to squish into her chair in an attempt to extinguish the sparks his smoldering eyes created.

Once his eyes returned to hers, they didn’t waver. “Sweet. A woman who gives second chances.”

She almost giggled at his persistence and lowered her head, hiding her cheeks that were becoming hotter by the minute. “Aren’t you afraid you won’t be able to get rid of me?”

He didn’t answer until she looked up curiously. When she did, he had the oddest expression. Soft and dream-like. “I decided that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he said. And then he laughed. He had a great laugh.

She was sure she appeared dumbfounded.

The intensity of his stare grew hypnotic, seeming too intimate; she broke the connection and stirred more unneeded cream into her coffee. They continued with their meal trying to avoid being caught stealing glimpses of each other. Unable to resist after a few minutes, she looked up, but the clock distracted her. She frowned, disappointed that she couldn’t prolong the meal any longer and a little mad at herself for wanting to.

“Well, I have an appointment with Dr. Pierce at ten. I have to go.” She stood, and as she turned to leave, she found herself smiling and wondering why he was there. Nearly everyone wore street clothes, so unless someone asked, who knew why anyone was there? Hopefully, he wasn’t some boob ogling head case or recovering heroin addict.

“Kinsley—?”

She twirled back, catching his eyes as he promptly withdrew his gaze from her rear-end.

“Be careful with Pierce. He’s a dick. Oh, and all that …” Playfully, he waved his finger though the air, outlining her body. “… won’t get you anywhere with him.”

His comment elicited a breathy laugh. “Don’t underestimate me.” She returned his once over, making sure he noticed.

He smiled. Full grill this time. “Okay … thanks for the warning.” Before resuming his meal, he flashed a seductive wink.

She felt like a teenager as she walked away, stomach fluttering. The unwanted sensation bugged her, but his in-your-face manner seemed refreshing and honest. This little distraction had gone on long enough, though. Because Max needed her, and she wouldn’t let him down again. As soon as she was discharged, she was getting away from Wayde. He had a distorted take on their relationship. There was nothing between them, but a twenty-year age difference, lies, and his constant threats against Max’s safety, which made leaving him terrifying. There was no way of knowing how valid his threats were. Whatever she had do to keep Max safe, she’d do. But first, she had to figure out how to get the hell away from Wayde and she had to get some money together to make it happen.