Free Storm at Marshbay by Clara Wimberly Page A

Ian Fitzgerald. They’d rather believe that I did it, or that, heaven forbid, my own husband did it.”
    I pulled away from her, wondering if I had heard correctly. “Are you saying you and James were also suspects?”
    “Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous? They say the child she was carrying belonged to James. Well, if that were true, why would he murder his own child? It’s far more reasonable that her insanely jealous husband would.”
    I stared at her, unable to believe her vicious, spiteful words. The way her eyes blazed at me gave me chills. She must really hate Ian. I thought Edna, with her frilly blonde curls and dimpled cheeks was as sweet and innocent as anyone I’d ever known. Now I saw an angry and vindictive spitfire
    “I don’t believe that,” I snapped.
    “Isabella, you shouldn’t be here. And neither should you, Edna.”
    I turned to see Ian standing in the doorway. With the light behind him, he appeared as a dark shadow, looming and dangerous. And though his voice was soft and quiet there was a frightening quality in it I had not heard before.
    I felt as if I were in a nightmare. After this, plus the events of last night, I didn’t know who to trust or who to believe. Had I made a terrible mistake by coming to Marshbay?
    I pushed past Ian. He let me go, not reaching to stop me, but called after me.
    “Isabella, wait.”
    I ran back around the house and through the opening into the courtyard. I hurried as fast as I could to my room and closed the door, locking it behind me. My hands trembled and I felt weak and dizzy.
    I stood for a moment, catching my breath before I remembered Ian’s room also had a door to the hallway.  I turned to go into his room, but it was too late. Ian was already through the connecting door, staring at me, his eyes blazing, and lips tight with anger.
    “No,” I cried.
    “Isabella, listen to me.” He took my wrists in his hands, shaking me slightly. “I am not the enemy, Bella,” he said softly. “I’m not.”
    Before I could make a sound he pulled me against him and kissed me. At first his kiss was hard and punishing, then just as suddenly as he’d caught me to him, his mouth turned soft and warm and tender.
    His tenderness stopped me cold as always. I wanted to pull away. I knew I should, but I couldn’t. I wanted more of him, more of his kisses. I wanted to feel his hands on my body, his chest pressing against me, his arms holding me tight. I never wanted this to end, though in the back of my mind I tried to summon all the reasons why I should.
    In the end it was he who finally pulled away from me. My arms were trapped against his chest, and he still held me. He gazed down at me with such tenderness it took my breath away.
    “Does that kiss tell you anything?” he asked. “I love you, Isabella and I would never hurt you. Don’t you know that by now? Can’t you see? Don’t you know that what happened between us earlier was real? Remember how I told you that love is a natural thing? That’s what you’re feeling sweetheart, I promise you. Love.”
    Was I insane? After all the rumors, after all that Edna told me, was I completely insane to believe this man? I wanted him to love me more than anything. I began to cry, as much from frustration as anything
    “Shh,” he whispered, brushing the hair from my forehead. “Don’t cry.” He kissed my cheeks and my eyes. “I would never hurt you— don’t you know that?”
    I wept, unable to stop. But I was defeated. I knew it and so did he.
     Instead of pulling away from him I leaned weakly into him, letting him hold me and soothe me, letting his warm hands touch me. Let him whisper soft words against my hair.
    “I think I fell in love with you that first day, when you stormed out of the library.” He put his finger under my chin, lifting my face toward his.
    I shook my head, unable to speak. I knew he meant it. I think I had always known it, because every time we were together, I’d felt those