by Joanna Wayne
But Nick hadn’t been in a state of rage when he’d decided she and Alex were disposable. He’d just calmly gone to Denver and offered someone money to have them erased from existence. And when the first hit man on his list had turned him down he’d simply gone to the next one.
Jack was waiting at the back door after she’d changed. He held her parka while she shoved her arms through the sleeves.
“You’ll need this,” he said, handing her a thick woolen muffler. “It’s warmer than yours.”
“Thanks.”
“You should ride Ishwar,” he said, when they reached the stables. “She loves a good gallop on a cold day and she’s sure-footed and responds well to her rider.”
He saddled a solid black horse for himself. He talked to both horses, calling them by name in the same soothing tone he’d been using on her.
In minutes they were riding across the rugged terrain. The cold wind stung her face and snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes. She pushed Ishwar to a gallop, thankful for the bitter cold and the punishing wind that pushed bracing air into her clogged lungs.
Hate. Kill. Hate. Kill. The words raced through her brain like a madman’s mantra. Nick wanted them dead. They would have been dead. Dead if not for Jack. She screamed into the wind and let her frustration and fury echo all around them.
She could have ridden like that forever. Ishwar couldn’t. When he slowed to a trot, they were high on a hilltop looking over a valley that stretched below them and the mountains in the distance.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said as Jack rode up behind her.
“This was the view that closed the sell on the ranch. Once I saw it, I knew this is where I was meant to be.”
“That must be a terrific feeling, to know that you’re where you were meant to be.”
“I’ve been there a couple of times in my life,” he said. “But being there and staying there aren’t the same thing. That’s why when it’s sweet, you savor it, and when it grows sour, you spit it out and move on. Cowboy philosophy,” he said, causally dismissing his bit of insight.
“Perhaps I’ll adopt it.”
“The snow’s starting to fall harder. We should probably head back to the house.”
They took a shortcut to the stables, this time with Jack’s horse taking the lead. Kelly helped him with the horses and then they walked back to the house together.
“I’ll make some hot chocolate,” Jack said, “and build a fire.”
“Sounds good.” Kelly went to her room to change into a pair of comfortable sweats, but she never got her hot chocolate. She stretched across the bed for what she’d planned to be only a minute and fell sound asleep.
Monday, 9:15 p.m.
Single S Ranch
KELLY WOKE TO DARKNESS, and it took her a second to remember where she was and that it had been late afternoon when she’d fallen across the bed. The wind whistled and howled like angry ghosts. Kelly slid out of bed and walked to the window to stare out at the driving snow. The blizzard had arrived.
She tried to switch on the lamp, but there was no response. She hadn’t expected they’d lose power so soon—unless it was later than she thought. Without bothering to find her slippers in the dark, she padded into the den in her stocking feet. The fire was blazing, embers dancing up the chimney like fireflies.
Jack was stretched out on the couch, his legs and feet wrapped in a striped Indian blanket. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked.
“You haven’t had much sleep over the last few days and there was nothing to wake you for except to watch the snow.”
He sat up to make room for her to sit beside him, but she stayed and warmed herself by the fire. “I should call and check on Alex.”
“Alex is fine. I talked to her a few minutes ago. You might want to check with your mother, though. She’s called three times. I think she fears I’ll ravish you now that the two of us are alone.”
Kelly stood by the fire, looking at Jack, as masculine as his cabin, yet easy and warm. Dynamic and heroic when he needed to be, yet never pushy or vain. And always incredibly sexy.
“Ravish me, Jack. Ravish me here, on the floor in front of the fire. Take me back to Canyon Road.”
He was silent for much too long. Finally he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I can’t do that.”
The unexpected rejection hurt.
He walked over to her and raked his fingers through her tousled hair. Tucking a thumb beneath her chin, he tilted her face upward so that she had to meet his penetrating gaze. “There’s no way to return to Canyon Road. We’ve both traveled too far to go back.”
“Then make love to me here, in this place.”
He put both hands on her shoulders, then let his fingers trail her arms until their hands clasped. “Is this about me, Kelly, or is it about hating Nick?”
She ached to tell him it was just about him, but how could she be sure? How could she know for certain that anything she felt wasn’t a reaction to the fear and the stress and the fury of the last few days?
“I made a big pot of chili,” he said, leading her away from the fire and toward the kitchen where gas lanterns cast a golden glow on the old linoleum and the stained oak table. “You must be starved.”
Tuesday, 12:30 a.m.
Single S Ranch
JACK TOSSED RESTLESSLY, alone in his old iron bed. Kelly was only steps down the hall. Turning away from her tonight had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her. Before tonight, he would have bet the ranch that given the chance he would have made love with her on any terms. But when it had come right down to it, he knew he wanted more.
He hadn’t been looking for promises of everlasting love. He wasn’t that much a dreamer anymore. But he’d waited too long for this. When he made love with Kelly he needed it to be about desire and passion and not just a release for her fury.
Still, he ached for her. And he knew sleep would be a long time in coming. He’d finally closed his eyes when he heard Kelly’s footfalls in the hallway. His door creaked open.
“Are you awake?” Kelly whispered.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve had time to think about your question.”
“And?”
“The fury and resentment’s about Nick. The horse ride was about release. But the passion is all about you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tuesday, 12:58 a.m.
Single S Ranch
Kelly shed the sherbet robe at the foot of Jack’s bed and stood there for breathtaking seconds, her nude body shimmering in the silvery reflection from the snow outside his window. It was the dream that had haunted him for almost half his life.
But this time it was real. He made a place for her next to him and she crawled beneath the cotton quilt and fit herself into his waiting arms. He touched her tentatively, as if she were still a dream that would shatter if he made the wrong move.
There was no such hesitancy on Kelly’s part. She initiated the first kiss, taking his lips hungrily and invading his mouth with her tongue. And then passion took hold and the wanton hunger he’d nursed for so long took on a life of its own.
He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, and then trailed tiny kisses along the curve of her neck. He wanted to go slowly, to savor every inch of her, but his hunger for her was all consuming, driving him to devour all of her at once.
Kelly’s hands roamed his back, pressing here and there and sliding down to curl about his buttocks. Without inhibition, she helped him wiggle out of his boxer shorts, finally snagging them with her toe and yanking them past his feet.
The heat between them was like steam, and they kicked back the covers in unison as he raised to straddle her beautiful body. She writhed beneath him and her nipples grew erect and pebbled as he brushed them with his thumbs and then his lips.
In bed, like everywhere else, she responded so openly that he knew immediately what excited her, and exciting her excited him.
“Kelly. Sweet
, sweet Kelly.” He crooned the words as he kissed and sucked one nipple, then the other, his erection throbbing and pulsing against her soft flesh.
“Oh, Jack. That feels so good. You feel so good.” She moved so that she could slip her hands between them and tease the tip of his hardness with quick feathery caresses that almost drove him over the edge.
“I want you inside me, Jack,” she whispered. “I want to feel that thrust when you make us one.”
“I won’t be able to last long.”
“It’s okay. I’m ready. I am so ready. I think I’ve always been.” She took his hand and guided his fingers to the hot, slick dampness that pooled between her legs.
He wanted to linger there, to taste the salty sweetness of her hot juices, wanted to pleasure her over and over until she cried out in the ecstasy of surrender.
But one of her hands had wrapped around his erection while the other circled and explored, mixing her wetness with his. I need you, Jack. I need all of you. So deep inside me.” She slipped a finger between his lips, wanting him to taste her, yet begging him to enter.
He couldn’t hold back, so he lifted his hips and let her guide him inside her. She moaned softly, and her body tightened around him.
“Oh, Jack.” She half sang, half moaned his name, and his heart felt as if it were going to fracture into a million pieces.
He tried to hold back. He’d waited so long. But the blood rush took over and he could no more stop than he could have stopped loving her.
“Kelly, I…” The passion swallowed his words. They were rocking together, harder and harder, faster and faster, soaring to a crescendo and climaxing in an eruption that seemed to tear him apart. He moaned and fell back to the bed, so physically and emotionally drained, he couldn’t breathe or speak.
It was not that way for Kelly. She kissed him again, a quick hot meeting of their lips and merging of their breaths before she snuggled against him.
“Was it Canyon Road?” she whispered.
“No. No way.” He let his face burrow in the silky strands of her hair. “That night was fantastic, the kind of night you remember the rest of your life.”
He kissed the back of her neck and then put his mouth to her ear. “Tonight was a hundred times better in every way.”
Tuesday, 2:30 p.m.
Single S Ranch
KELLY HAD FALLEN ASLEEP in Jack’s arms last night, fulfilled in ways she’d forgotten were possible. Jack had not only satisfied her physical cravings, but had made her feel sexy and seductive.
The afterglow had still been warm inside her when Jack’s body had stirred again. The second time they took it slower, and he’d kissed, fondled and sucked every erogenous zone of her body and given her time to do the same for him.
It had been a sensual dance of exploration and she’d not only learned about his body but discovered new and erotic things about her own. Jack was an excellent teacher.
The best discovery of all had been that the titillating, glorious, heart-stopping magic of Canyon Road and the first time she’d ever made love was still alive and well. A magic that she’d never felt with anyone else in all her thirty-two years.
So much for Hollywood.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay here in this magical world. She had to go back to Beverly Hills and work through all the legal issues and find a way to deal with the millions of dollars of debt Nick had bequeathed her.
And she had to tell Alex that her father had been murdered in Denver. That’s all she’d tell her now. Then somehow, when she was older, Kelly would concoct a story that painted Nick in the best light possible, giving Alex only the barest of facts before she heard them from someone else.
Kelly looked back to the notes she’d been making before erotic thoughts of Jack had broken her concentration.
She’d talked to Nick’s accountant a few minutes ago. He was firmly convinced that Nick didn’t have any bank accounts other than the three she already knew about, but then he was unaware that Nick had sold the property in Mexico. Obviously, Nick hadn’t run all his business through the accounting firm so who knew what else he might have been into.
She’d also made a call to her attorney, but had only talked to him briefly as he’d been on his way to court. He was going to contact Nick’s attorney and try to facilitate the reading and interpretation of the will so that she’d know exactly where she stood.
Among other things, he’d instructed her that in the meantime she should live in the house to preserve the integrity of her rights and to keep the property and its furnishings intact. Lawyers had such a way with words. She wondered if they took classes in legal jargon the way she’d taken French and Spanish at UCLA.
Bottom line: It was goodbye Jack, hello Beverly Hills. She got cold chills just thinking about walking back into the house that had Nick Warner’s ghost lurking in every corner.
Jack walked in from the kitchen where he’d been on the phone with Lenny for the last half hour.
“Any news?” she asked.
“Very little. Lenny located a Milo Kardascian who lives in Denver, but couldn’t find any connection between him and Nick, or between Milo and Karen. He’s a rich businessman with a penchant for beating up girlfriends. He’d filed a suit claiming police brutality, but it looks as if it has little merit.”
“He must have had some significance to whatever Karen was investigating.”
“You’re right. I’ll hold on to the name and red flag it in the PPS system. It might make sense one day.”
“What about the Puerto Escondido deal?
“No luck yet.” He shrugged. “Enough business. Have you talked to Alex?”
“Twice. She’s excited about the snow. I talked to my mother, too, about letting Alex fly back home with them and stay for a week while I deal with the legal hassles.”
“And she agreed, of course.”
“She and Dad were both thrilled. They’re going to bring her home on Friday so she can attend her preschool class next week and hopefully return some normalcy to her routine.”
“I guess that means you’re going back to Beverly Hills.”
“Tomorrow. I was just about to ask if I could use your computer to book a flight. Mitchell called and offered again to charter a jet, but I told him we were living in the new age of minimalism and that I was going to fly coach. He was appalled. But not as appalled as he was when I told him he could plan some sort of service for Nick if he liked, but that I would not be attending.”
“I take it you told him that Nick hired the hit man?”
“Yes, and he said that Jack Sanders was either experiencing delusions or outright lying, and that he’d known that PPS was nothing more than a high-priced rip-off from the beginning.”
Stormy started barking at the door. Nick walked over to let him out, but Stormy changed his mind and just sat there looking woebegone.
“He misses Alex,” Jack said.
“And I’m sure she misses him, too. Maybe I should get her a dog when things are more settled.”
“She should have Stormy. They’ve already bonded. I’ll deliver him to Beverly Hills when you give me the go-ahead.”
He propped his foot on the hearth and stared into the fire. She couldn’t see his eyes, but the set of his jaw and the pull to his mouth made her uneasy.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
He shook his head and offered a poor imitation of a smile.
“You don’t think this is over, do you, Jack? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I’m just not ready for you to go.”
She didn’t totally buy that, but then she knew he’d talked to Evangeline that morning. He could already have his next assignment on his mind.
“I’ll miss you, bodyguard, but I have to go back to Tinseltown. All this fresh air is bad for my lungs.”
Finally he dropped to the couch beside her and snaked his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll book the flights.”
“Flights—a
s in plural? I can’t afford you, Jack. I don’t know how I’ll pay the PPS bill as it is.”
He trailed a few kisses down the back of her neck. “I’ve asked for a couple of days off and have already cleared it with Evangeline. Besides, I can’t very well let you face returning to that house alone.”
She tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. “Are you for real, Jack Sanders?”
He took her hand in his and slid it to the growing bulge inside his jeans. “Does that feel real to you?”
No, it was magic. Pure magic.
Wednesday 2:45 p.m.
Beverly Hills
“A LITTLE SHABBY, but it’ll do,” Jack said, as the taxi they’d taken from the airport pulled through the massive iron gate and started down the tree-lined drive to the Warner estate. It was the first time she’d taken a taxi instead of a limo. Part of the new Kelly.
“Do you share a zip code or have your own?”
“I have my own,” she quipped. “In all the zip codes in all the countries in the world, you had to walk into mine.”
The teasing failed to relieve the tension that had gripped her ever since they’d stepped off the plane. It wasn’t the house; it was what the house represented. She’d spent just over five years of her life playing the role of Mrs. Nick Warner without ever exploring what the pretense was doing to her.
She’d accepted the world of hype and publicity where starlets jumped from bed to bed and marriage licenses were printed in disappearing ink. A world where living separate lives in a house the size of a small village didn’t seem particularly unusual.
She’d shopped on Rodeo Drive, sent her daughter to an elite playschool, flown in chartered jets and had a staff to take care of every detail of her life.
It had all been a cop-out. And she was through copping out. Hard as it might be, she was going to take control of her life. No more hiding behind accountants and managers and attorneys. No more playing betrayed little rich girl, either. She’d get the facts, make the decisions and the chips would fall where they may.