by Lisa Jackson
She began to feel smothered.
Terrified for her safety, he spent every waking hour trying to locate the man who was invading her life. He spent days with the police to no avail, and he transformed their home in Malibu, where they were living at the time, into a veritable fortress, with guard dogs, an electronic security system and remote-controlled gates.
Kaylie, always a free spirit, felt as if she were withering. Her home began to seem like a military compound.
Zane even tried to secure the cottage in Carmel, but Kaylie put her foot down. They needed some normalcy in their lives, she reasoned, and against his better judgment, he’d acquiesced.
But they grew further and further apart. Hell-bent on protecting her, Zane refused to see that she was dying inside.
At nineteen she wanted an independence she’d never tasted, a freedom to make her own decisions, to live her own life, and all she wanted from him was his love.
They had worked on the marriage. Oh, Lord, she thought now, as she realized that they had both tried and fought to save their dying union. But they just hadn’t tried hard enough.
Zane had become autocratic, and she’d become fiercely independent.
The letters had gotten worse, and when Lee Johnston, the anonymous person, finally accosted them at the premiere of Obsession, Zane had lost all control.
* * *
Now, seven years later, Kaylie swallowed the taste of fear that still touched the back of her throat as she remembered Johnston’s blank face, his unseeing eyes, his hard body thrust up against hers. And the knife. God, she’d never forget the feel of polished steel against her throat.
If not for Zane, she might have died that night.
But Zane turned paranoid on her. Even though Johnston was locked up and the letters no longer made their way to her mailbox, Zane installed bigger and better security systems and used his best men to constantly patrol their home.
The marriage dissolved in its prison, and Kaylie had no option but to file for divorce.
At first he fought it. And he even tried to change. But he couldn’t, and she doubted that he ever would. Even now, after seven years, he was still trying to run her life. Like Don Quixote fighting windmills, Zane was still grappling with the ghost of Lee Johnston.
And so was she.
Now, staring at the sunlight streaming over the mountains, Kaylie tossed off the old quilt. Today she’d talk some sense into him—today when she wasn’t tipsy, when she was rational and calm.
She’d find a way to convince him that they couldn’t stay up here alone together. Her heart couldn’t take it.
Chapter Five
It was time to take the offensive, Kaylie decided when she heard him rattling around downstairs. With renewed determination, she swept down the stairs and into the kitchen to find him seated on a bar stool, one booted foot propped on the bracing of the matching stool as he lazily flipped through the pages of a magazine.
“’Morning,” he drawled with maddening calm. “Sleep okay?”
“As a matter of fact I didn’t sleep much at all,” she said, irritated, struggling to remain calm and rational. “So you’ve enjoyed your little joke,” she said, shivering in her wrinkled sundress. “Now, let’s get back to the real world.”
Motioning around him, he said, “This, Lady Melville, is the real world.”
“I can’t stay here, Zane, even if I wanted to,” she said, hoping to sound logical. “What do you think is going to happen when I don’t show up on the set?”
He shoved the magazine aside. “Not much.”
“Not much?” she repeated, hardly believing her ears but his expression didn’t change. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “We have exactly forty-five minutes to get to the city.”
“We won’t make it,” he said, climbing off his stool long enough to pour two cups of coffee. “Even if we wanted to.”
“We do want to.”
“Correction. You want to.” He handed her one of the cups and took an experimental sip from his. “Careful. It’s hot.”
Kaylie’s temper soared. “And I have no say in the matter—right? All my citizen’s rights have been stripped since you brought me here to this…this prison! Well, I’m warning you, when my producer figures out that I’ve been kidnapped, there’ll be hell to pay!”
He looked maddeningly unconcerned. “Relax. He won’t guess.”
“But when he calls—”
“He’ll get your answering machine.”
“Not good enough, Zane,” she said, crossing the room and glaring straight into his eyes. For an instant, a flicker of pain crossed those gray irises, and Kaylie thought there was hope. He wasn’t as immune to her feelings as he’d like to pretend.
“Crowley won’t call.”
“Of course he’ll ca—” she started to say, but stopped short. Obviously Zane had taken steps to prevent anything from going wrong with this ridiculous plan of his! Of course! Fury caused her heart to surge wildly. “What’d you do, Zane?” she demanded. “I mean besides becoming a major criminal now wanted by the FBI. What else did you do?”
“I made sure that you wouldn’t be missed.” He settled back on his bar stool and propped his elbows on the counter, eyeing her over the rim of his cup.
Now she was worried. “How?”
“By making the appropriate calls.”
“What calls?”
“To the station.”
“No—”
“And your sister.” He took another long swallow from his coffee.
“You called Margot?” she whispered, disbelieving.
“No, but my secretary did.”
She believed him, and her heart sank. Finally she realized that this was no joke. He was dead serious. He intended to keep her captive for God-only-knew how long! She slumped onto the nearest bar stool and wrapped her suddenly chilled fingers around the hot cup of coffee. Was he really that worried about Johnston? Licking dry lips, she tried to think and stay rational. “No matter what you think might happen to me,” she said, her voice uneven, “you had no right to bring me up here against my will.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t care,” she said, seeing him wince. She took a gulp of her coffee. It was hot and burned a path to her stomach. Avoiding his gaze, she glanced around the room and noticed the phone jack. “You took out all the phones,” she said. “Afraid I might call for help.”
“Afraid you might do something stupid.”
“Nothing could top this trick of yours,” she said, and to her surprise he laughed.
“I need to make some calls.”
He eyed her speculatively, then finished his coffee in one swallow and walked out of the room and headed upstairs. The floorboards creaked overhead. He was down in a few minutes, cellular phone in hand. “Okay. Who do you want to call?”
She couldn’t believe her good luck. “First the station, then Margot—”
“How about the hospital again? Or Henshaw’s home—I’ve got the number.”
“But—”
“No one else,” he said firmly, his gaze hard. “I brought you up here for your safety and we’re not blowing it.”
Angry, she watched as he dialed a number, then handed the phone to her. Henshaw’s answering machine clicked on, and she left a message that she would call back. Zane connected with Whispering Hills Hospital again, but Henshaw wasn’t available. Again, Kaylie was stymied in her requests about Johnston.
Then it was Zane’s turn. As he drank a second cup of coffee, he called his office and received an update from Brad Hastings.
“Nothing new yet,” Zane said, hanging up. “Look, I know you’re furious with me for bringing you here, but it’s for your own good.” When she started to protest, he held up a palm. “And don’t give me any grief about treating you like a child. I don’t mean to. I—I just don’t want to lose you.”
The honesty in his eyes cut straight to her soul. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Don’t, she reminded
herself, don’t trust him again. It’s too easy to get lost in him. All too vividly she remembered just how much she’d loved him; how she’d waken every day looking forward to his kiss, his laugh, his touch…. She cleared her throat as well as her mind. She wanted to tell him that he’d already lost her, but she held her tongue because there always had been and always would be a frail connection between them. Phone in hand, he grabbed hold of the back door. “I have to take care of the stock.”
“The what?”
“Horses and cattle.”
She glanced out the window to the hills. Blue-green pine and spruce were interspersed with thickets of oak and maple. Through a break in the trees she noticed a weathered barn and split-rail fence. “What is this place?”
“It was an old logging camp, then it was turned into a ranch of sorts. I bought it a couple of years ago.” He glanced at her, and one side of his mouth lifted. “Kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. I decided I needed a place to get away from it all. I knew the guy who owned the property, and we struck a deal.”
“This guy—your friend—did he abduct women against their will and bring them here, too?” she baited, unable to keep from smiling. There was a modicum of humor in this situation, after all.
His grin was slightly off center. “Not that I know of,” he replied, “but you never can tell. Anyway, I sold some of the timber rights, but I decided to keep this house and a few acres for vacations.”
“I didn’t know you knew the meaning of the word.”
“I’m learning,” he drawled, “though no one ever accused me of being quick on the uptake.”
Kaylie couldn’t help but laugh. This was a new side to Zane, a side that was definitely appealing. She’d never thought of him as a person who was willing to kick back. That he, too, needed time to unwind and enjoy life touched her.
She eyed the big kitchen with its hanging copper pots, gleaming brass fittings and butcher-block counters. The room was airy and light, the windows sparkling clean. “So who keeps everything up when you’re not here?”
“A retired couple—Max and Leona.” Zane opened the door.
“And where are they?” Kaylie asked, hope springing in her heart. If she could just get the woman alone, explain her predicament, maybe Leona would understand and help her….
“Don’t even consider it,” Zane said, as if reading her mind. “I gave them an extended vacation and said I’d look after everything myself.”
Kaylie’s hopes crashed to the floor.
His gaze turned tender as he stared at her. What a sight she must be in her wrinkled dress, no makeup and tangled, unruly hair—a far cry from the famous teenager he’d once married, she thought ruefully.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked through the door, leaving Kaylie alone. She took advantage of her short-lived freedom, hurrying from room to room, looking, with the help of daylight, for any means of escape. He took the phone with him and there was no CB radio! No living soul for miles!
She worked her way from the kitchen, dining room, living room and ended up in the den. A huge river-rock fireplace dominated one wall, and a bank of windows opposite offered a view of the sloping hillside and valley far below. A river, silver-gray against the blue-green pines, glinted through the trees. Autumn had touched the maples and oaks, turning the leaves gold or fiery red. Wildflowers bloomed in vibrant yellow, pink and blue, providing splashes of color in the dark forest.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Zane asked, lounging in the doorway.
Kaylie whirled to see him staring at her. Goose bumps appeared on her skin. “I suppose it could be, were the situation different.” “It can be different, Kaylie. All you have to do is accept the fact that you’re here and enjoy it.”
She hesitated. It sounded so perfect. And too good to be true. “I can’t.”
He shrugged. “Then you’re probably going to have a miserable couple of weeks.”
A couple of weeks! she thought in horror. She had to get back now, today, as soon as possible. She couldn’t be gone for two days, much less two weeks, for God’s sake! For the first time she noticed the duffel bag hanging from his fingers. Her bag! “What’s in that?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“I thought you might need a change.”
“But how—”
“While you were swimming,” he said, then his smile twisted. “I didn’t have much time, though, so I just threw some things into the bag. It was hidden beneath the tarp in the back of the Jeep.”
“You went through my drawers?” she asked, furious as she conjured up the image of him pawing through her clothes, her stockings, her lingerie….
“It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before,” he reminded her softly, then cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you’d wear anything I bought you.”
“You bought me?” she queried.
“There are clothes in the closet upstairs. Surely you saw them—”
“They don’t belong to some woman you’re involved with?”
He smiled sadly. “They’re yours.”
“Mine?” Her heart stopped. “Then this was planned, right? For days?” So angry she was shaking, she started for the door.
Zane was quick. His hand shot out, and strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Kaylie,” he said softly, “slow down a minute—don’t go jumping to conclusions.” His hands were gentle, his gaze fastened on hers. “Yes, this took a little time to arrange,” he admitted. “About ten hours, give or take a few minutes. I found out about Johnston yesterday morning. I had my secretary run out and buy clothes—size six, right?—and ship them here via a company van. At the same time I called the Browns—Max and Leona—and offered them a dream vacation that they well deserved and told them to take the telephones with them.”
“And what about me, Zane?” she asked, pressing her face closer to his, standing on tiptoe to stare at him. “Did you ever wonder how I’d react? Did you realize that there’s a good chance that I’ll never forgive you for hauling me up here against my will?”
His jaw slid to the side, and his eyes searched her face. “That would be a shame, Kaylie,” he said, his voice husky, and she knew in an instant that he intended to kiss her. She tried to yank away from him, but his fingers tightened around her arm. “Whether you admit it or not, we’re good together.” In one swift motion, he tugged impatiently on her wrist, lowered his head and captured her lips with his.
Kaylie struggled, but his arms closed possessively around her and his mouth moved sensually against hers. No! No! Her mind screamed, though her body began to tingle and familiar emotions tore at her heart. With all her strength she pushed away from him, away from the seduction of his body against hers. But he held her tighter, kissing her and stealing the breath from her lungs. The harder she struggled, the stronger he became, his will as unbending as steel.
His hands were hot against her bare shoulders, his mouth demanding. His tongue pressed hard against her teeth and gained entrance to her mouth.
A thousand memories—glorious and loving—flitted through her mind.
He groaned softly, and her blood turned to fire. Heedless of the danger signals, she began to kiss him back, passion exploding from anger. He smelled and tasted and felt so right. His hard, anxious body, pressed tightly to hers, caused an ache to burn deep in the most feminine part of her. As if in a dream, she wondered how it would feel to make love to him again.
The thought hit her like a bucket of cold water. Realizing just how easily she could be seduced, she recoiled inside and shoved hard against his shoulders, struggling and breaking free.
“Don’t—don’t ever,” she gasped, trying to think rationally and failing miserably, “do that again!”
“Why not?” he asked, his eyes gleaming, a satisfied smile plastered across his jaw. “Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“No!”
“Kaylie, don’t lie!”
She backed up, her cheeks flaming, her feet nearly stumbling over an ottoman. “You took me by s
urprise, that’s all.”
He cocked a disbelieving dark brow. “Maybe I should plan some more surprises.”
“Maybe you should go out and feed the cows or horses or chickens or whatever it is you’ve got here and leave me alone!”
One dark brow arched in skepticism. “Leave you alone. That, I’m afraid, will be hard to do.”
“Consider it a challenge!” she said, though she knew that being locked in close quarters with him would make it as difficult for her as it was for him.
He didn’t leave. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest. To her consternation, he actually grinned—that boyish and adorable grin that wormed its way straight through her cold facade. “We should declare a truce. You know, wave the white flag—try to be civil to each other instead of always lunging for the jugular.”
“In this situation?”
“It’ll make things easier.”
“For you!”
“For both of us,” he said softly. “Come on, give it a rest. You might just find that you’ll enjoy yourself.”
She swallowed hard. That was exactly what she was afraid of—enjoying herself. Why couldn’t she just hate him? It would be so much easier than fighting these lingering feelings that she couldn’t quite forget. “I—I don’t know.”
“I’ll be good,” he promised, but a gleam sparked in his eyes.
What would it hurt? She was tired of the constant battle, though she still bristled at the thought of his high-handed technique of kidnapping her. She had rights, rights he had no business ignoring. “You know, Zane, I’d like to trust you—to get along with you, I really would,” she admitted honestly, “but it’ll be hard.”
“Try,” he suggested. “I’ll be on my best behavior—charming and good-natured and…as fair as possible.”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes in frustration. Fair? Impossible. But there was something beguiling about his smile, something she couldn’t resist—something she had never been able to fight. “A truce, hmm?” she said, picking up a crystal paperweight and tossing it into the air only to catch it again. “Okay—on one condition.”