by Nora Roberts
“Goddammit, Julia.”
But she didn’t even hear him. “I must have dozed off. I took dramamine before the flight, and Kenneth served wine with lunch. Made me sleepy. I woke up when the plane … I might not have told you I’m afraid of flying. Well, it’s not flying so much as being cooped up in there with no way out. And this time, when the plane started to buck, I told myself not to be a wimp about the whole thing. But the pilot said—” She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “He said we had a problem. We were going down so fast.”
“Oh, sweet God.” He was up, too terrified to realize how rough he was when he hauled her to her feet. His hands were moving over her, checking for injuries, making sure she was whole. “Are you hurt? Julia, are you hurt?”
“No, no. I think I bit my tongue,” she said vaguely. She thought she remembered the taste of blood and fear in her mouth. “Jack said we were going to make it. The fuel—there was something wrong with the fuel line or the gauge. I realized it when it got so quiet. The engines shut down. All I could think of was Brandon. He’d been robbed of a father, and I couldn’t bear to think of him being alone. I could hear Jack swearing, and the radio crackling with voices.”
She was shaking now, hard and fast. He did the only thing he knew and picked her up off her feet to cradle her against him.
“I was so scared. I didn’t want to die inside that damn plane.” Her voice was muffled with her face pressed against his throat. “Jack yelled back for me to hang on. Then we hit. It felt like I was hitting the tarmac instead of the plane. Then we bounced—not like a ball. A rock—like a rock if rocks could bounce. I heard metal screaming, and the wind rushing in. There were sirens. We were fishtailing, like a car out of control on ice, and there were sirens. Then we stopped, we just stopped. I must have already unstrapped because I was getting up when Jack came back. He kissed me. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not a damn bit.”
“Good, because I kissed him back.”
Still rocking her, Paul buried his face in her hair. “If I get the chance, I’ll kiss him myself.”
That made her laugh a little. “Then I got out, and I came back. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.” She sighed once, then twice before she realized he was holding her. “You don’t have to carry me.”
“Don’t ask me to put you down for a while.”
“No.” She laid her head on his shoulder. Safe, secure, treasured. “In my whole life,” she murmured. “No one’s ever made me feel like you.” When the dam burst, she turned her face to the curve of his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Cry as long as you want.”
He wasn’t very steady himself as he carried her into the living room so he could sit on the sofa and hold her to him. Her sobs were already quieting. He should have known that Julia wouldn’t draw out any bout of weakness.
And he could have lost her. That thought swam over and over in his mind, forming its own whirlpool of fear and rage. She could have been taken from him that quickly, that horribly.
“I’m all right.” She straightened as far as he would permit to wipe the tears away with the backs of her hands. “It hit me, really hit me, when I saw you and Brandon.”
“I’m not all right yet.” The words were jerky. He closed his mouth over hers, not as gently as he might have wished. His fingers speared through her hair, closed into a fist. “How useless everything would be without you. I need you, Julia.”
“I know.” Her system settled, but she was content to stay cradled in his arms. “I need you too, and it’s not nearly so hard as I thought it would be.” She brushed her fingers over his cheek. How wonderful it was, how liberating, to know she could touch like that whenever the whim struck. And how liberating it was to trust. “There’s more, Paul. You’re not going to like it.”
“As long as you’re not going to tell me you’ve decided to elope with Jack.” But she didn’t smile. “What?”
“I found this under my seat on the plane.” She got to her feet, yet even when she was no longer touching, she felt connected to him. She knew before she took the paper out of her skirt pocket and offered it, what he would be feeling.
Rage, that impotent, useless fear that went with it. And an anger that was different from rage, less combustible and more consuming. She gauged them all in his eyes.
“I’d say this is a little more direct,” she began. “All the others were warnings. This … I guess we’ll call it a statement.”
“Is that what you’d call it?” He saw more than the words. She’d crushed the paper in a palm that had been damp with a fear and had smeared the type. “I’d call it murder.”
She moistened her lips. “I’m not dead.”
“Fine then.” When he rose, his anger spilled over and lapped at her. “Attempted murder. Whoever wrote this sabotaged the plane. They meant for you to die.”
“Maybe.” She held up a hand before he could explode. “It seems more likely they wanted me to be scared. If they’d wanted me to die in a crash, why the note?”
Fury burned in his eyes. “I’m not going to stand here and try to reason out the criminal mind.”
“But isn’t that what you do? When you write about murder, aren’t you always dipping into the criminal mind?”
The sound he made was somewhere between a laugh and a snarl. “This isn’t fiction.”
“But the same rules apply. Your plots are logical because there’s always a pattern to the murderer’s psyche. Whether it’s passion or greed or revenge. Whatever. There’s always motive, opportunity, and reasoning, however twisted. We have to use logic to figure this out.”
“Fuck logic, Jules.” His fingers closed over the hand she’d laid lightly on his chest. “I want you on the next flight to Connecticut.”
She was silent for a moment, reminding herself he was being difficult only because he was frightened for her. “I thought about that. At least I tried to think about it. I could go back—”
“You damn well will go back.”
She only shook her head. “What difference would it make? It’s already started, Paul. I can’t erase what Eve’s told me—More, I can’t erase my obligation to her.”
“Your obligation ended.” He lifted the paper. “With this.”
She didn’t look at it. Maybe it was a form of cowardice, but she wasn’t going to test herself yet. “Even if that were true—and it isn’t—going back east wouldn’t stop it. I already know too much about too many people. Secrets, lies, embarrassments. Maybe this would stop if I kept quiet. I’m not willing to spend the rest of my life, the rest of Brandon’s, on that kind of a maybe.”
He hated the fact that part of him, the logical part, saw the sense of what she was saying. The emotional part simply wanted her safe. “You can announce, publicly, that you’re abandoning the project.”
“I’m not going to do that. Not only because it goes against my conscience, but because I don’t think it would matter. I could take out an ad in Variety, In Publishers Weekly, in the LA. and The New York Times. I could go back and pick up another project. After a few weeks, a few months, I might start to relax. Then there’d be an accident, and my son would end up an orphan.” Her hand dropped away from his to curl at her side. “No, I’m going to see this through, and I’m going to see it through here, where I feel I have some leverage.”
He wanted to argue, to demand, to drag her and Brandon both onto a plane and take them as far away as possible. But her reasoning made too much sense. “We go to the police with the notes, and with what we suspect.”
She nodded. The relief that he was with her was almost as weakening as the fear. “But I think we’d have more plausibility after Eve gets the report on the plane. If they find proof of sabotage, it would go a long way to our being believed.”
“I don’t want you out of my sight.”
Grateful, she held out both hands. “Me either.”
“Then you’ll go along with my staying here tonight?”
&n
bsp; “Not only will I go along with it, but I’ll personally turn down the bed in the guest room.”
“The guest room.”
She offered an apologetic smile. “Brandon.”
“Brandon,” Paul repeated, and drew her back in his arms again. Suddenly, she felt so small, so slight. So his. “Here’s the deal. Until he gets used to it, I’ll pretend to sleep in the guest room.”
She thought it over, running her hands over his bare back. “I’m usually willing to compromise.” Confused, she pulled away. “Where’s your shirt?”
“You must have been nearly comatose not to’ve noticed my exceptional naked chest. The kid and I were playing ball, remember? It gets hot.”
“Oh, right. Basketball. The hoop. There wasn’t a hoop there before.”
“She’s coming back,” Paul murmured, and kissed her. “I put it up a couple hours ago.”
It was becoming easier and easier for her heart to melt. “You did it for Brandon.”
“Sort of.” He shrugged it off as he toyed with her hair. “I figured I’d dazzle him with my superior skills. Then he snuck up and beat me. The kid’s tough.”
Incredibly moved, she framed his face in her hands. “And I never thought, never imagined I could love anyone as much as I love him. Until you.”
“Julia!” Nina rushed in through the kitchen door, bounding into the living room without a knock. It was the first time Julia had seen her truly frazzled. Her skin was pale, her eyes huge, the usually sleek crop of hair ruffled. “Oh, God, are you all right? I just heard.” As Julia turned from Paul, Nina enveloped her in a trembling hug and the subtle scent of Halston. “The pilot called. He wanted to make sure you’d made it home all right. He told me …” She trailed off, tightening her hold.
“I’m fine. Now anyway.”
“I don’t understand it. I don’t.” She pulled back but kept her strong, businesslike hands firm on Julia’s arms. “He’s a top-flight pilot, and Eve’s mechanic is the best in the business. I don’t see how there could have been a problem like this.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out when they finish examining the plane.”
“They’re going to go over every inch of it. Every inch. I’m sorry.” After letting out a shaky breath, she backed away. “I’m sure the last thing you need is me coming apart at the seams. It’s only that when I heard, I had to see for myself that you weren’t hurt.”
“Not a scratch. You’re right about Jack being a top-notch pilot.”
“What can I do?” Nina summoned back her brisk efficiency. She glanced around the newly refurbished living area, pleased that Eve had allowed her to handle the decorating. “Fix you a drink? Draw you a bath? I could call Miss B.’s doctor. He’d come out and give you a tranquilizer so you could sleep.”
“I don’t think I’ll need any help with that when the time comes, but thanks.” Because she was steady again, Julia was able to laugh. “Actually, you look like the one who could use a drink.”
“Maybe a seat,” she said as she sank to the arm of the curvy sofa. “You’re so calm.”
“Now,” Julia told her. “A few minutes ago it was a different story.”
Nina shuddered, then rubbed the chill out of her arms. “The last time I flew we ran into a storm. I spent the most frightening fifteen minutes of my life at thirty-five thousand feet. I can’t imagine it came close to what it was like for you.”
“It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat.” She heard the kitchen screen door slam. “That’s Brandon. I’d rather he didn’t hear about this yet.”
“Of course.” Nina made herself get to her feet. “I know you wouldn’t want to upset him. I’ll go on back so I can waylay Eve and tell her about this calmly. Travers would blurt it out.”
“Thanks, Nina.”
“I’m glad you’re all right.” She gave Julia’s hand a final squeeze. “Take care of her,” she said to Paul. “You can count on it.”
She left by the terrace door, and was already smoothing her hair as she walked away. Julia turned to see Brandon watching from the kitchen doorway. There was a wary look in his eye, and a suspicious purple mustache over his lip.
“Why does he have to take care of you?”
“Just an expression,” Julia told him. She narrowed her eyes. “Grape Kool-Aid?”
He covered most of his grin by swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “Nehi. Travers had it opened and everything. I thought it would be rude not to drink it.”
“I bet you did.”
“A guy gets thirsty playing one on one,” Paul put in. “Yeah,” Brandon tossed back at him, “especially when he wins.”
“That does it, you little creep, you’re on your own.”
They exchanged what Julia thought were very manly looks before Brandon bounced into a chair.
“Are you okay and all? Paul said maybe you were upset or something.”
“I’m okay,” Julia told him. “In fact, I’m dandy. I might be persuaded to fix a few king-size Brandonburgers.”
“Hey, cool. With fries and all?”
“I think I … oh, I forgot.” She pressed a hand over her son’s head. “I’m supposed to have dinner with Eve tonight. I promised.” Because she felt his disappointment, she began to make adjustments. “Maybe I could call her and reschedule.”
“Don’t do it on our account.” Paul winked at Brandon. “The brat and I can take care of dinner ourselves.”
“Yes, but—”
But Brandon was interested. “Can you cook?”
“Can I cook? I can do better than that. I can drive to McDonald’s.”
“All right!” He bounded up, then remembered his mother and shot her a hopeful look. A trip to McDonald’s meant all kinds of wonderful things. Including no cleaning up after dinner. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She kissed the top of his head, then smiled at Paul. “It’s okay.”
A long, hot bath with fragrant oils, the creams, the lotions. Fifteen luxurious minutes fussing with powders and paints. By the time Julia slipped into the icy pink evening pants and draped jacket, she was completely recovered. So recovered, it amused her that Paul had insisted on walking her over to the main house.
“You smell incredible.” He lifted her wrist to sniff, then lingered to nibble at it. “Maybe you’d like to join me in the guest room later.”
“I might be persuaded.” She stopped at the main door, turned, and linked her hands around his neck. “Why don’t you start thinking of ways to persuade me?” Her lips touched his lightly, then she surprised and pleased them both by pouring herself into a long, breath-stealing kiss. “Now, go buy yourself a hamburger.”
It felt as though the blood had drained from his brain straight to his loins. “Two things,” he said. “Eat fast.” She smiled. “What’s the second thing?”
“I’ll show you when you get home.” He started off, then called over his shoulders. “Eat real fast.”
Laughing to herself, Julia knocked and decided she might set the world’s record for gulping dinner. “Hello, Travers.”
For once the housekeeper didn’t grunt, but looked Julia over with what first appeared to be concern. It changed quickly to suspicion and annoyance. “You’ve got her upset.”
“Eve?” Julia said as the door closed at her back. “I’ve upset Eve?” Then it struck her and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or swear. “About the plane? You can hardly blame me for almost being in a crash, Travers.”
But apparently she could as she stomped back toward the kitchen after one sharp gesture toward the parlor.
“Always a pleasure chatting with you,” Julia called after her, then made her way toward the parlor.
Eve was there, pacing the width of the room. Back and forth, an exotic beast in an elegant cage. Emotion washed in her wake, so strong, so intense, it was almost visible. Her eyes glistened, but the tears didn’t fall until she looked over at Julia.
For once all her will deserted her. With a helpless
shake of her head, she folded onto the sofa and began to weep.
“Oh, no, please.” Julia was across the room like a shot, arms enfolding, voice soothing. Silk rustled as Eve turned into her. Their scents met, opposing notes that somehow harmonized into one exotic fragrance. “It’s all right,” Julia told her, the words as automatic, as comforting as her stroking hands. “Everything’s all right now.”
“You could have been killed. I don’t know what I would have done.” Moments after breaking down, she was struggling for composure. She drew back, wanting, needing to study Julia’s face. “I swear to you, Julia, I never thought anyone would go this far. I knew they would try to stop me, but I never considered they would try to hurt you to do it.”
“I haven’t been hurt. I’m not going to be hurt.”
“No. Because we won’t go any further.”
“Eve.” Julia searched in her own pocket for a tissue and handed it over. “I’ve just been through all that with Paul. Stopping now won’t make any difference, will it?”
She took the time to dab at the tears. “No.” Slowly, feeling her age, she rose to go to the bar and poured a drink from the bottle of champagne that was already open and waiting. “You know more than you should.” Her full red lips flattened. “That’s my responsibility. My selfishness.”
“My job,” Julia countered.
Eve took a long sip before pouring a second glass for Julia. The girl had soft shoulders, she thought. Almost fragile in appearance, yet they were strong enough to support. “You don’t want to stop?”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to. And no, I don’t.” She accepted the glass Eve offered, then touched crystal to crystal. “I’m in for the duration.”
Before Julia could drink, Eve gripped her wrist. Her eyes were suddenly very dry and very intense. “You may hate me before it’s over.”
The hold was so tight, Julia could feel the pulse in her wrist beat against that of Eve’s thumb. “No, I couldn’t.”
Eve only nodded. She’d made her decision, for better or worse. The only thing left was to finish. “Grab the bottle, will you? We’ll eat out on the terrace.”