Angel’s Promise by Aleatha Romig

Emma

Submission given is sweeter than submission taken.

As I recalled what Rett had told me, I wondered if he meant them—now or then.

“You’re right. Don’t throw away what we have and what we will have,” he said, “because I screwed up.” Rett gently framed my cheeks, his palms on each side. “I pushed too far. I’m not offering an excuse. I’m telling you that I know it was a mistake.”

I was too emotional for this. I shouldn’t want to forgive him and yet I did.

When I didn’t reply, he released my cheeks and took a step back. “Signing the certificate is bigger than us. Remember me saying that you may need to speak to someone, to make a statement?”

I nodded.

“It’s about Underwood.”

Turning, I walked to the tall bookcase and ran my fingers over the spines. When I turned, I said, “You were wrong earlier.”

“About?”

“If I’d known about Ross, there were things I could have done. I would have contacted his parents or done something. I can’t imagine what they think of me.” Another thought occurred to me as I tilted my face to the side. “Wait, Kyle said you killed Ross, but if you found out...” The rest of my sentence disappeared.

“Kyle lied.” Rett’s dark orbs searched mine. “Ross Underwood is the subject that you may need to discuss with authorities. Like I said, I was informed of Underwood’s death the day after you arrived here. The cause of death at that time was still undetermined. He’d been found in his hotel room. The thing I also learned was that you were on the NOPD’s radar as a possible suspect.”

I spun away from the books, pulling the robe tight around me. “Me. Why?”

“At first it was because you were also missing. I later found out that the evidence that put you under suspicion was that the forensics team found your fingerprints in Underwood’s hotel room.” He inhaled. “Is there something you want to say?”

“No.” My mind went back to the day Ross and I arrived in New Orleans. It had been just over a month ago and yet it seemed like another lifetime. I tried to recall. “I was in his room, but Ross was very much alive the last time I saw him. That last time was at the bar. He was at the table and then you hijacked me for dinner. I haven’t seen him since.” I looked up at Rett. “Ross died that night?”

He nodded. “I never had the impression that the two of you were...romantic.”

My nose scrunched and a bad taste came to my mouth. “We weren’t.”

“Why were your fingerprints in his room?”

“Really, Rett? The first thought you have is that I was there for sex.”

“It wasn’t my first thought. If it had been, I would have brought this up a long time ago. Tell me why you were in his hotel room.”

The response I wanted to voice was that it wasn’t any of Rett’s business, but then the memories flooded back. Ross’s and my flight had been a disaster with layovers and delays and then there were the hotel mix-ups. “I was in his room because my room wasn’t ready. There was a mix-up.” I walked past Rett to the doorway and turned. “You see, I needed to get ready for a meeting with a mysterious businessman by the name of Everett Ramses.”

“Your things were in a different room.”

“Yes, Rett. Before Ross and I left the hotel, my room was finally available. He helped me move my things into my room.”

“Which would mean his prints were in your room too.”

I shrugged. “I would suppose so.”

Rett’s eyes opened wide. “But they weren’t found because when my men took your things from your room, they wiped it all clean.”

“Your men?”

Rett nodded. “The police think it was you. They believe you’re a technology wizard, a hacker capable of erasing part of the hotel’s surveillance.”

“Their surveillance was hacked?”

“There’s no visual of anyone entering your room to gather your things.”

Which meant Rett or his men were responsible.

I nodded toward the laptop on the desk. “If I was that good at hacking, I’d have figured out your internet. I assume that if questioned, you’d rather I don’t inform the authorities of who did retrieve my things?”

“Yes, I’m telling you the truth because I trust you.”

I laid my hand on Rett’s arm. “Tell me how Ross died.”

“Overdose.”

“No, Ross didn’t do drugs.” I went back to the long chair and sat again. “As a matter of fact, Ross had an injury from college that sometimes gave him fits. He was concerned that flying would aggravate it. The pain medicine the doctor prescribed was strong. Ross didn’t take it often, but I remember him saying he brought it with him, just in case. When he took it, Ross was extremely cognizant of everything he did, including alcohol.” I shook my head, realizing I was still wearing a towel on my head. Leaning forward, I let it fall to my lap and shook out my tangled hair. “No, Ross wouldn’t overdose.”

When I looked up, Rett was staring at me with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“What can I say, Emma. I’m standing here looking at the most fucking perfect woman and I am...” He inhaled.

“You’re what?”

“I don’t like having you upset.”

“Then don’t fuck up.” I ran my fingers through the length of my messy hair. “Kyle said you had Ross’s death declared a suicide.”

“It was better than having you as a suspect.”

I looked up in surprise. “So it was you? No. It’s not better. I didn’t do anything to him. Now if someone did, they’re out there. I’m innocent. Why should I worry?”

“At first, I believed that Underwood was killed to flush you out. I still believe that’s what happened. Did he say anything to you about money?”

“It was all he talked about, getting funding for our computer program. That was what you were supposed to provide.”

“I’ve recently learned more about his financial status.” Rett casually leaned against the doorjamb between the library and bedroom. “Apparently, Underwood had the means to fully support your project.” Rett shook his head. “I don’t know if it would be better for you to go into the police statement blind, but if being my wife doesn’t keep you from making a statement, you should know what you’re up against.”

I stood. “Tell me.”

“Ross Underwood had been receiving significant deposits of cryptocurrency for about a year and a half. From what we’ve ascertained, that money was coming from Kyle and possibly, more directly, from Jezebel.”

My eyes narrowed. “Jezebel?”

“My men and I have reason to believe that she’s every bit as dangerous as Kyle or Ingalls.”

I didn’t want to even think about Liam in Rett’s presence.

This conversation was becoming more than I was ready to discuss. Now there was information on Jezebel. I’d just found out my birth mother was alive and learned about her past. I wasn’t prepared, mentally or emotionally, to delve into her present, especially if it included a nefarious theory. “Rett, please leave. I’m tired.”

“Come downstairs to your suite.”

I glanced up at the skylight and smiled. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.”

He looked at his watch. “The clerk from the court will be here in less than an hour.”

“You said earlier today that you misled me by allowing me to think I could make deals where you were concerned.”

“Maybe I’ve misled myself.”

“I’ll be honest with you. I’m torn. I want to sign the certificate and I don’t.”

Rett exhaled as his dark gaze gleamed my direction. “You want a deal?”

“What do you propose, Mr. Ramses?”

“Sign the certificate.” He turned and left the library. When I followed to the doorway, Rett was retrieving the wedding rings. In a stride or two, he was back. “Wear these. Be Mrs. Emma Ramses in the way that will keep you safe from whoever is after you.”

“I thought it was Kyle.”

“He’s part of the equation.” Rett lifted my left hand. “May I?” he asked with the diamond band poised.

“I’m not ready to forgive you.”

Sun glistened in his dark gaze. “Do you think that one day you may?”

“I hope so.” I extended my fingers.

Rett slid the ring onto my finger and then followed with the diamond.

“So sign the certificate and wear the rings and be Emma Ramses...” I said. “Tell me how that’s a deal. What concession are you making?”

Rett inhaled as he turned a slow circle. “I will give you time. I’d prefer you took it downstairs, but if it’s up here you want, it is yours.”

I looked at the rings and back up. “I want something else.”

“What is it?”

“By the time the clerk gets here—I don’t care where you get it or how you get it—I want you to also wear a wedding ring.”

The tips of his lips curled. “Is that all?”

“No. I reserve the right to come up with additional clauses to this agreement as they occur to me.”

Rett’s lips came to my hair. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Ramses.” He started to walk away and stopped. “I’d like you to join me for dinner.”

I wasn’t sure if we were back to courting, but I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the attention of the courtship-Everett Ramses. “The conservatory.”

He nodded. “After we sign the certificate. Our second wedding meal.”

“I didn’t bring anything appropriate to wear.”

He grinned. “It’s why you should be downstairs.”

I shook my head. “I have connections. I’ll be downstairs in less than an hour.”

As the door shut, I was uncertain of all the emotions coursing through my thoughts.

The emotion that I thought was gone was the one I found the most welcome.

Hope.