Silhouette - Dynasties -The Elliotts 06 -Heiress Beware

by Charlene Sands

  “No, I can’t guarantee that. I know what you’re saying is true, Mac. But I have little to go on here. I only know what I feel.”

  Mac smiled broadly and her heart flipped over itself again. “I know what I feel, too.”

  “And what’s that?” Jane asked, her heart pounding hard.

  He hesitated a few seconds, then said, with clear honest eyes, “I want you.”

  Warmth spread throughout her body, and Jane realized she had to be content with that knowledge. She wouldn’t press Mac. He was trying darn hard to be reasonable, rational and responsible.

  The rat.

  “I know about your wife, Mac. Lizzie sort of filled me in.”

  He scowled.

  “Don’t be angry with her. She only wants your happiness.”

  “She’s a pill.”

  Jane laughed, and the sound echoed against the wall of trees surrounding the lake. “She’s a sweetheart.”

  Mac granted her half a smile. “That, too.” Then he took a long, drawn-out breath. “Listen, you know Lizzie is leaving on Sunday. It’s not what I had planned when I invited you to stay with us. We’re going to be alone, and if you don’t want to—”

  “Do you want me to leave?” Jane asked, point-blank. Heart racing, she had to know the answer. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome, and if Mac thought her leaving would make his life easier, then she’d go. Earlier this morning she’d called Dr. Quarles to make an appointment, and once again, he had been gracious to offer her an open-ended invitation to his hospitality.

  “No,” Mac stated immediately. “I was only asking for your sake. Not mine.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t be home all that much. Lizzie helped me get a job at Touched with Love. I’ll be volunteering at the bookstore every day.” She beamed him a smile. Once she’d finalized the arrangements today, the thought really took hold. She couldn’t wait to get started and to do something productive with her life. “Rory assured me that my working there wouldn’t interfere with our investigation. Anytime you need me I can be available. And in between times I’ll be helping him out over there.”

  “Lizzie arranged that for you?”

  She nodded. “Yes, she’s very friendly with Rory Holcomb. Seems his grandchildren have been in her classes, all six of them. And it’s close enough for me to walk to work and back.”

  Mac’s expression faltered. “It’s not that close to home, Jane. I’d rather you didn’t work at night.”

  “Oh, so you want me home nights. Alone. With you?”

  Mac pursed his lips, then shook his head in resignation. “All right. You’ve made your point. But I’ll be picking you up from the shop when you do work nights. And that’s not negotiable.”

  “It’s a deal. I can’t wait to get started,” Jane said with a happy sigh. “It’s the one positive thing I have to look forward to.”

  “Is that where you went this morning?”

  “Yes, I’d heard his used book store was charming. I wanted to meet Rory in person and see his place.”

  “And you failed to tell me. Made me worry like crazy.”

  Jane turned her head to look him in the eyes. “You worried?”

  Mac scratched his head and rose abruptly, refusing to answer. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Jane walked back to the car with him, struggling with her thoughts. She’d thought she’d angered Mac by taking off without his permission. She thought it more an ego thing on his part. She hadn’t thought about him worrying about her. Worrying meant caring. And caring led to other things.

  After this morning she knew Mac wanted her. But that had been sexual. He’d been attracted to her physically. But Jane hadn’t thought past that. She hadn’t thought he actually cared for her. Not in the personal, intimate way a man cares for a woman.

  She was his responsibility. Hadn’t he told her that a dozen times? He felt duty-bound to help her.

  Jane picked up her pace and reached the patrol car before Mac. She got in, slamming the door and staring straight ahead. She couldn’t possibly afford to think that Mac actually cared for her. It would be dangerous to believe so. Yet her heart burned with the thought.

  Putting distance between them would be the wisest route to take. Jane had the means now, by working long hours at the bookstore. She planned on staying far out of Mac’s reach.

  His heart wasn’t the only one that could get broken.

  And in her vulnerable state, Jane knew she would shatter to pieces if that happened.

  Seven

  T he next morning Jane stepped into Touched with Love and a great sense of belonging swept over her. She breathed in the musky scent of yellowed pages turned by loving hands, of aged bindings holding leaves together by vintage strength, and of softly worn leather sofas placed in a semicircle in one corner of the bookstore. The “reading cove,” as Rory had affectionately called it, was a place for old and young alike to gather. In the afternoons, children clustered on the sofas and listened as Rory read them their favorite tales. The evenings were shared by theWomen ofWinchester, a historical reading group, as well as the Book Banterers, an eclectic group who delved into elements of the paranormal.

  All in all, Jane felt welcome here. She fit in somehow, and a sweet, sweeping sensation of rightness filled her. Not even the softly played country tunes wafting in the air could stifle these newfound impressions of belonging. She’d come to know the likes of Toby and Martina, Kenny and Shania, George and Tim. Living in the Riggs household, she hadn’t had a choice. Good thing the rock and twang had seeped into her soul. She’d caught herself toe tapping to the tunes often enough.

  She had to admit she enjoyed listening to KWIN, and all the antics of the radio station’s disc jockeys. Though originally she’d been stunned, she had eventually gotten accustomed to hearing her description play on air, as well. “The young blond woman with blue eyes, an amnesia victim found on the outskirts of town. If anyone has information regarding Winchester’s own Jane Doe, please contact the Winchester County Sheriff’s Department.”

  “Morning,” Rory said, looking up from a stack of paperbacks ready to be shelved. “You’re here bright and early.”

  “Hello, Rory. I couldn’t wait to get started.”

  “We’re not officially open for half an hour. I was just about to have a cup of coffee and a doughnut. Marietta bakes them up fresh every morning. She brings me a batch for my customers. It’d be nice to have someone to share them with. Come, let’s sit awhile. I don’t expect a crowd until later in the day.”

  “I’d love to.”

  After two cups of coffee and a sugar doughnut, Jane set about her work. She organized a stack of mysteries, alphabetizing them, but not without reading their back cover blurbs and perusing their first pages. The feel of the books, the print on the page all seemed so familiar to her, yet she had no real recollection, no hint as to why. All she knew was that she liked being here, and it felt darn good finally being able to do something productive.

  The day flew by. She worked alongside Rory, and when he had to leave the shop for an hour, he entrusted it to her care. He brought them both back lunch, and in between helping customers, they stuffed down their sandwiches.

  Rory turned over the children’s reading hour to her, introducing Jane to the children as his new “reading buddy.” Rory had paired up the children, teaming them so that when they had an opportunity to read, they could work out the tougher words together. Sometimes Jane would read a story, and sometimes the children would read one to her.

  “Aren’t you getting hungry?”

  “A little,” Jane answered automatically. Her head down, she was focused intently on a compelling thriller she hadn’t been able to shelve just yet. When she glanced up, she found Mac leaning beside her in the mystery section, watching her with interest.

  “Oh, hi,” she said lamely, amazed at how his presence always seemed to fluster her lately, and now his scent, that fresh lime aftershave, mixed with his own es
sence, remained with her even after he’d stalked off somewhere. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s almost eight. Rory left hours ago. His oldest grandchild, Jimmy, is working the cash register now, readying to close up.”

  “Oh,” Jane said, remembering that she’d bade Rory farewell earlier. He’d told her to go on home, and Jane had planned to, but she’d gotten involved in the thriller. “I lost track of time.”

  Mac took the book out of her hand, closing it and eyeing the title. “Good?”

  “I couldn’t put it down.”

  “I’m starving,” he said. “Let’s go eat.”

  Surprised, Jane followed him to the cash register. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head, and Jane was too dumbfounded to realize that Mac had paid for the book she’d been reading. When he handed it to her with a quick lift of his lips, she blinked.

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged as he headed for the front door. “I had a late call tonight. You weren’t home when I finally got there, so I drove over to pick you up.”

  Jane finally glanced down at the book in her hands. She reminded herself not to read too much into simple gestures of kindness, but those gestures, coming from the stanch and stubborn sheriff, sent her mind spinning.

  Dusk had settled on the horizon and she realized that Mac felt duty bound to pick her up this evening. She abhorred being a complication in his life, and at the same time felt as though it was more than that. Her heart warmed considerably at the notion. She’d tried to stay away today, losing herself in the bookstore and her volunteer work. She’d had a nice day, actually, but nothing compared to being with Mac.

  He stood tall, wearing his tan uniform proudly, watching her, and Jane nibbled on her lower lip, staring at her reflection in his silver badge. “I’ll make dinner when we get…home.” Using the word in that context set her mind spinning again. She was beginning to feel that 2785 Crescent Drive was her home. And she had handsome Mac Riggs waiting on dinner for her.

  “No need. We’re going out. Best place in town.”

  Jane glanced down at her clothes. She’d known she would work in the bookstore today, shelving, opening cartons and getting down on the floor with little ones to help them pick out books, so she’d worn her old jeans and a nothing-special blouse. “Should I go home to change?”

  Mac grinned and placed a hand on her waist, urging her to his car. “Not a chance, Jane. You’re dressed exactly right.”

  “I still say you’re chicken, Jane.”

  She sat at the back end of Mac’s Trailblazer in Colorado Chuck’s parking lot, dangling her feet and eating an Aspen burger with pickles and tomato out of a cardboard box. Mac opted for a Pike’s Peak, a mountainous burger filled with chili and cheese and onions and heaven knows what else, definitely the more dangerous choice. Jane’s stomach rumbled at the sight of the monstrous meal.

  “Not chicken, just smart.” She pointed at his burger. “I hope you have a jar of antacids at home.”

  “I have a stomach of steel.” He took a giant bite of his burger.

  Jane couldn’t disagree. She’d seen his bare chest, the rippling muscles and hard-packed abs. The image stayed in her head until she shook it free. “You’ll need it. If the burger doesn’t kill you, the fries surely will.”

  “Ah, but what a way to go.” He popped a fry into his mouth.

  Jane smiled, nibbling on her meal while she watched Mac indulge in his. “You sure know how to treat a lady,” she teased.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he bantered back, and it was clear he took no offense in her statement. “You haven’t experienced Winchester until you’ve had one of Colorado Chuck’s Pike’s Peaks.” He shook his head. “Too bad, Jane. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Maybe next time. I mean…if I come back here…sometime…ever again.”

  With his burger halfway to his mouth, Mac stopped to look at her squarely. Their eyes met for a long moment and he let out a long sigh. The fact that Jane would leave Winchester someday, maybe sooner than later, lay like a deep sea of doubt between them.

  Jane swallowed the lump in her throat and took a small bite of her burger.

  “Do you know how many little towns and villages there are in Italy?” Mac said, finishing his meal and crumpling his napkin. “Hundreds.”

  “Wow,” Jane said, glad Mac changed the subject. She didn’t want to think about leaving Winchester, or Mac, anytime soon. But she couldn’t wait to regain her memory and find out about herself. She felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, the catch-22 of her situation not lost on her. “I guess I might have known that at one time. So, no luck finding our friendly little Italian shoemaker?”

  Mac answered with a shake of his head. “We’re not giving up. Would help if we had the cobbler’s name, though. Anything else come to mind?”

  Jane finished her burger, leaving the fries untouched and finally washing it all down with a strawberry shake. “No, sorry. I’ve thought about those boots over and over. You’ve got me dreaming of stiletto heels and black leather, but nothing comes to mind.”

  Mac nearly choked on his chocolate shake. He sputtered, spraying chocolate onto the asphalt parking lot. “Man, Jane. I think I’ll be the one dreaming of stiletto heels and black leather tonight.”

  Jane punched him playfully on the arm, but the heat of his gaze froze her in action. He wasn’t kidding. Desire burned in his dark eyes and her body heated quickly.

  One passionate look from the sheriff was all it took to turn Jane’s subdued demeanor into a sizzling wreck of nerves.

  The remembered feel of his lips on hers, his hands caressing her body, his long lean form atop her on that workout bench yesterday, filled her mind and put an ache in her heart. She grabbed both cardboard boxes, jumped down from the back of the SUV and walked over to the trash, dumping everything inside.

  When she turned back around, she found Mac speaking with a woman, a young, pretty brunette with a curvy body and a proprietary hand on his arm. The woman hadn’t wasted any time in approaching Mac as soon as the coast was clear.

  Jane hesitated a few seconds, then, with decided assertion, walked right back over to them. “Hi, I’m Jane.” She put out her hand.

  The taller woman shook it, a quizzical look on her face. “Lola. I’m a…friend of Mac’s.”

  Jane nodded and smiled. “That makes two of us.”

  Mac sat silently by, watching the exchange, offering nothing.

  “Mac and I go back a long way,” Lola said, smiling at him. “Don’t we, Sheriff?”

  He shrugged, sipping his shake. “Guess we do. We were both born and bred in Winchester.”

  “School chums, then?” Jane asked, though she really didn’t enjoy being a part of this conversation. Her heart raced, but a deep sense of dread overshadowed any other sensation she felt at the moment. While half of her cried out with jealous regret, the other half felt heavy, like a lead weight around Mac’s neck, pulling him down. Since being found up at Deerlick Canyon, Jane had tied up all Mac’s time, taking him away from any personal life he might want to have. She’d been his responsibility, and hadn’t thought about how her being here had affected his life.

  The woman chuckled. “Schoolmates and then some, right, Mac?” She tilted her head so that her long, shiny brown locks rested on his shoulder.

  “Ancient history, Lola.” Mac stepped back and raised the hatch of his car.

  “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” the woman said, staring at him with bright, interested eyes. Jane knew that look, the way one female knows when another is flirting, even if the man is too dim to figure it out.

  “Good seeing you again, Mac. Don’t be a stranger.”

  Mac nodded and headed for the driver’s door. “Take care, Lola.”

  Jane took her seat quietly and closed her eyes, stunned by her own rude behavior. “I’m really putting a damper on your social life.”

  Mac gunned his car
out of Colorado Chuck’s parking lot. Both were silent on the short drive home until he parked the car in his driveway.

  Jane made a move to exit the car.

  “Jane, listen.”

  She turned to him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She couldn’t name all the emotions churning around inside her gut, but she did know one thing. She didn’t want Lola, or any other woman, hovering around Mac. And that made no sense at all. Jane had no right to him. He was free to see any woman he wanted, except her. He’d made that clear, yet when he’d showed up at the bookstore tonight, Jane’s rational mind had shut down and she’d lost herself in foolhardy notions.

  “Mac, don’t try to convince me that my being here hasn’t changed your life.”

  “Damn it, Jane. You’re not stopping me from anything.”

  “You’re just being sweet,” she said softly.

  Mac stormed out of the car, slamming the door. “I’m not sweet,” he said, grinding out the words.

  Jane stepped out of the car as well and together they walked up the steps to the front door. “Okay, so you’re not that sweet. I never really thought so. Feel better now?” she said, smiling.

  Mac paused, pursing his lips and blinking. “You never really thought so?”

  She shook her head, so hard her hair whipped against her cheeks.

  Mac ran a hand down his face in what she feared was utter frustration, but when she could finally see his mouth, the corners had lifted up and he laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  She joined in the laughter, happy to have gotten him out of his bad mood. Then on impulse, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Talk to me?”

  Mac’s eyebrows rose. “About?”

  “About Lola, and how I’m not interfering in your life.”

  She sauntered past him when he unlocked the door, and stood waiting for his answer, arms folded.

  Mac stared at her a moment, then his gaze dropped down to her chest, where she’d crossed her arms. Jane didn’t flinch, though the heat of his perusal was enough to knock her off her feet.

  Mac broke eye contact and moved to the window, his arms braced on the windowsill as he focused his gaze into the darkness of the night. “Lola and I are friends, Jane. Nothing more. We dated a while, after my divorce, but that’s the end of it. We both moved on.”