Midnight Storm (The Warriors)

by Laura Taylor

  "Sounds good."

  "One dessert coming up."

  "With two scoops of ice cream?"

  She laughed. "With two scoops of whatever your heart desires, Major Mackenzie."

  "Whatever?" he said, his tone sounding both thoughtful and faintly suggestive.

  Jessica’s teasing smile faded. Dev noticed that she devoted her complete attention to the cinnamon apple crisp and vanilla ice cream.

  "I’m not sorry," he said.

  "What aren’t you sorry about?" she asked as she licked ice cream from her fingertips.

  "For still wanting you."

  She paled. "I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for dessert, because that’s all I can offer, Dev."

  He nodded and turned his gaze back to the fire, but he glanced up when Jessica’s shadow fell across his long, lean frame a few minutes later. "Hi there."

  "Off flying?" She handed him the generously filled dessert bowl.

  "No. Just remembering old times."

  "Our old times?" She sat on the edge of the hearth and sipped brandy from the snifter cradled in the palm of her hand.

  "Yeah."

  "Maybe you shouldn’t."

  "I like remembering when you weren’t afraid to love me, even though there were parts of my life that made you uncomfortable."

  "Loving’s not easy, especially when…"

  "… when the man’s a pilot." He watched closely for her reaction.

  She shook her head, but she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she shifted her position and watched the fire as she spoke. "… when you’re responsible for more than your own life."

  "You’re referring to Monica, I assume." Dev thought her answering smile looked forced.

  "Speaking of parents, how are your mom and dad these days? Monica talks to them quite often, but she doesn’t really say much about their activities."

  "They’re fine. Getting older, playing lots of golf, traveling the world. I suspect they’re pretty typical of their age group."

  "And the Marine Corps. Do you still love flying?"

  "You don’t have to be polite."

  "I’m not. What I’m trying to do is find out why you haven’t been boring me silly with jet jockey stories. You used to talk nonstop about airplanes."

  "My conversational repertoire has expanded."

  "There you go sounding like shards of glass again."

  "People change." He kept his gaze on the flickering flames as they shot up from the logs in the fireplace. "Your mom seems happy."

  Jessica nodded. "She wanted to return to her roots."

  "This isn’t what I expected of you, Jessie. You always wanted to set the world on fire as a journalist. What happened to your dream?"

  "It faded with time."

  "You’ve given it up?"

  "Not completely."

  He studied her profile and the dense fall of black hair that framed her face and danced across her shoulders. He recalled the silky feel of her hair, and he remembered brushing it for her after they’d made love. Dev cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, but his hunger for her refused to recede. He forced himself to focus on her last remark. "So you lead a secret life as a New York Times investigative reporter? The journalistic equivalent of Wonder Woman?"

  She laughed at his ludicrous speculation when she saw the humor in his eyes. "I think I like the way you’ve aged."

  "Aged? I’m only thirty–six."

  "Your crow’s–feet add character to your face. You’ll have some gray at your temples soon, too," she teased. "Do you still have all your teeth?"

  "Stick to the subject, Cleary. We can discuss my masculine attributes later. And yes, I still have all of my damn teeth."

  "I write children’s books under the pseudonym J.C. Hannah," she suddenly admitted.

  Dev didn’t even try to hide his amazement. "Those are great books. I’ve given them as gifts to my sister’s kids."

  She smiled. "My publisher thanks you. I also thank you."

  "They’re not the standard crap children usually end up reading."

  Her smile faded. "I wanted to help them deal with their problems."

  He saw a hint of the vulnerability he’d seen in her eyes during their very first moments together. "Because you didn’t have help when you needed it?"

  Jessica looked away. "Something like that, but absent the underlying melodrama. Children need ways in which to understand and deal with real life. I try to provide options and examples in my stories."

  Dev set aside his empty dessert bowl. He noticed that Jessica didn’t even seem surprised when he eased the snifter from her hand. He sampled her brandy, the simple act of sharing reminding them both of the countless little intimacies they’d shared in the past. "I was surprised when I heard you’d gotten married."

  "Don’t feel alone. Several people were quite shocked. I think I was one of them."

  "Did you love him?" Dev immediately wished that he could withdraw the question. He really didn’t want to hear that she’d loved another man.

  "I was lonely, and I wanted children. He was, and still is, a very nice man."

  "Did you love him?" he pressed.

  "Is it important?"

  Dev ground his teeth, furious that she felt the need to ask such a stupid question. "Was he a local guy?"

  "Part–time mayor of Willow Springs, and full–time accountant."

  "If he was such a nice guy, why’d you split up after less than eighteen months of marriage?"

  She glanced at him, surprise etched into her delicate features. "Been keeping tabs on me?"

  "I pay attention to the important stuff," Dev answered stiffly. He remembered the two–day drunk he’d indulged in when his parents had informed him of Jessica’s wedding. He also remembered a brutal hangover and a heart that refused to mend no matter how much time passed.

  "He grew restless when he realized that I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t ever be able to offer him more than friendship and companionship. I understood when he left."

  "He actually left you?"

  She laughed at his shocked expression. "You look and sound very surprised."

  "I can’t imagine any man willingly leaving you."

  "I think I’ll take that as a compliment."

  "You’d better, because that’s how it was meant."

  "It was for the best. He knew I didn’t love him." She took a sip of brandy once he returned the snifter. "He needed someone who could love him. He found her. They’re married now, and they’re expecting their first child. He’s happy, which is what he deserved all along."

  "And you’re lonely."

  She shook her head in denial, sending her hair on yet another sensual journey across her shoulders. "I’m busy with my life. Very busy."

  "That’s not an answer."

  He loathed the pain he saw in her eyes when she met his gaze. He also sensed her innate strength when she didn’t look away or try to make excuses for the choices she’d made in the past.

  "It’s the best I can do at the moment, Dev."

  "Tell me something."

  "If I can."

  "Have you made peace with what happened to your dad?"

  "I think so. It took some time to sort through all of my emotions and I needed professional help to do it, but I believe I’ve come to terms with the past." She frowned. "It’s my turn to ask a question. How come you know so much about my life?"

  "I ask about you whenever I talk to my folks. They pass along whatever Monica tells them, which isn’t a whole hell of a lot."

  "What about your dad?" she asked. "Has he forgiven himself for not being able to rescue my father?"

  Dev nodded. "I think so. It took a lot of years, though." He met her curious gaze. "Despite all the death and destruction he saw and everything he personally experienced during his military career, he seems to have come to terms with all of it."

  "I’m glad he was always able to come home to your family, Dev."

  He leaned forward, relieved
her of the snifter, and placed it on the hearth before he took her hands. "There was a time when you resented the fact that he was alive and your Dad wasn’t."

  "I know, but I don’t feel that way any longer. I was very young then… just twelve years old. I felt abandoned, even though it wasn’t Daddy’s fault that he and his airplane went missing on the other side of the world. Don’t forget, I also had to cope with my mother’s emotional problems, and that was more… more frightening for me than anyone ever realized when it was happening. I went through a period of resentment and anger that nearly destroyed me."

  Tightening his hold on her hands, he tugged her forward. He felt her initial resistance, and he thought he glimpsed a hint of fear in her expression. Something inside of him clenched painfully.

  "What are you doing?" she whispered.

  "I need to hold you, Jessica. I need your warmth and your gentleness more than I need anything else in the world, but I don’t want to hurt you."

  He felt her troubled gaze sweep across his face. He also felt the tension slowly drain from her body, but he didn’t let himself hope that she might want him as much as he wanted her.

  Dev sensed that she stood poised between two worlds. The self–contained world she’d created for herself, and the other world that lacked caution and reserve. He felt the tremor that shook her through their joined hands, and he forced himself to remain perfectly still.

  Jessica finally nodded and allowed him to draw her into his lap. Lightning flashed outside. The room was dark. The blazing logs in the fireplace offered the only illumination in the kitchen. Lightning streaked across the sky once more, and the thunder that followed sounded close and vicious. Wind gusted, rattling the shutters and whistling through the eaves.

  Jessica suddenly straightened and fled his embrace. "I’d better switch on the generator. This storm could last through the night."

  Dev pushed up to his feet. "Any flashlights around?"

  She pointed to the one she always left on the hearth. "There won’t be any power on in the cottages," she commented as he followed her down a long hallway. She paused in front of the basement door. "You can use one of the guest suites on the second floor if you’d like."

  He took her arm and tugged her against him. Gripping her narrow waist with his hands, he held her still and peered down into her eyes. "Do you trust me to respect your privacy if I stay here with you?"

  Wide–eyed, she stared at him for several silent seconds. Her expression, an odd blend of fear and hope, struck Dev as being the most vulnerable look he’d ever seen on a woman’s face.

  "Do you trust me?" he asked a second time.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "Then I’ll stay, and I’ll leave you alone if that’s what’s best for you, but I won’t stop wanting you or needing you, Jessica. Not ever."

  4

  After starting the generator, Jessica offered Dev his pick of the second floor guest rooms before seeking refuge in her own suite on the third floor. She quickly changed into a warm flannel nightgown and climbed into bed, despite the fact that she really wanted to quit being sensible and give into her need for Dev.

  The storm persisted far into the night. Lightning continued to pierce the starless black sky, and thunder rumbled with reckless abandon.

  Jessica tossed and turned for more than an hour. Frustrated by both her inability to sleep and with Dev for infusing life into every nerve ending in her body, she abandoned her bed sometime around two and made her way down to the main living room. Once there, she built a fire.

  Wrapped in a comforter and seated on the braided rug in front of the largest of the inn’s many fireplaces, Jessica tried to come to term with the conflicting emotions caused by her earlier conversation with Dev. Instead, she found herself recalling the emotional and physical intimacy they’d once shared.

  Shaken by the vividness of her memories, Jessica lowered her forehead to her upraised knee and sighed heavily. Seeing him again had done more than remind her of his absence from her life. His presence at the inn brought into sharp focus the reality of empty days and even emptier nights spent going through the motions of life. He reminded her of the babies they hadn’t made together, the wedding anniversaries never celebrated, and the foolishness of her attempt at marriage to a man she hadn’t loved.

  Although obviously troubled and changed by his experiences in the Middle East, Dev still possessed the power to make her long for a life together. She cautioned herself against wanting what she couldn’t have, but her heart seemed determined to reject the advice.

  Lifting her head, she stared at the flickering flames of the fire and renewed her vow to herself to be both strong and practical in the days ahead. Still, she questioned her ability to be either strong or practical when it came to Major Devlin Mackenzie, United States Marine Corps.

  "Jessie?"

  Startled by the sound of his voice, she glanced up. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as Dev padded barefoot into the room, clad in nothing more than a pair of snug–fitting jeans that were only partially fastened. His muscular upper body, hair–roughened chest, flat belly, and narrow hips invited a lingering visual and tactile inspection. As lithe and powerful as some primitive creature, his body tantalized and seduced both her senses and her imagination when he lowered himself to a spot at her side.

  She couldn’t ignore the way the firelight washed his skin with a golden hue, accented the subtle shifting of his muscles with each breath he took, and caressed his exposed flesh with the tenderness of a sated lover.

  "What’s wrong?" Curiosity and something more blazed in his eyes as he studied her.

  She felt bewildered for a moment, not simply off–balanced by the hunger quickening within her. "I don’t…" She frowned, and her voice trailed off.

  "Why aren’t you in bed?"

  She shrugged and forced her eyes away from his body. "I couldn’t sleep."

  "Me, either."

  "It takes time to get used to our thunderstorms."

  Jessica nervously smoothed her hair away from her face and then fingered the lace collar of her flannel nightgown. Unable to meet his probing gaze, she tugged the comforter more securely around her body. "Did the thunder and lightning disturb you?"

  Dev didn’t respond. Instead, he watched the leaping tendrils of flame circling the logs in the fireplace.

  Jessica took the opportunity to study his profile. As she silently marveled over the strength of his jaw, the hardness of his cheeks, and the length of his dark eyelashes, she clenched her fists beneath the comforter and resisted the urge that prompted her to reach out and touch him.

  "I haven’t been sleeping too well lately," he finally admitted, his gaze still fixed on the fire.

  "Did you ever marry, Dev?"

  "Of course, not!"

  Startled by his vehement response, she asked, "Why not? Surely there were women you cared about."

  "I cared, but not enough. Marriage is forever, and I’m not one for dress rehearsals."

  She felt strangely comforted by his reply. But she also experienced sadness that he, too, had been denied the shared strength and passion possible in a loving marriage.

  "I’ve been thinking about us."

  "I’ve had to learn not to do that." Jessica tried not to be glad that he still nursed his memories of their time together, but she failed. "I disappointed you."

  "Only once, Jessica. Only once," he answered. "I’ve started remembering some things about our relationship that I probably should have noticed when they were happening."

  "I don’t understand."

  "I do… now."

  Instinct told her he was about to wander onto very sensitive terrain, so she tried to lighten his mood by distracting him. "Hindsight’s really wonderful, isn’t it? You can do a thousand and one mental postmortems, but nothing changes."

  Settling back against the edge of the love seat situated behind them, Dev didn’t comment. He simply remained focused on the glowing embers in the fire
place.

  "I never meant to hurt you, Dev."

  "That doesn’t change the fact that you did," he reminded her matter–of–factly. "It took me a long time to grasp exactly what you denied us when you broke our engagement. I’ve watched my friends over the years, especially the ones with the really solid, loving marriages. I’ve seen them sacrifice for each other, endure separations, experience childbirth, deal with tragedy, and celebrate their triumphs." He glanced at her. "I’ve envied them, Jessica, because I knew we could have been just as happy, if not happier."

  "You knew I had no choice. Not with Monica constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown for so many years. Maybe I would have felt differently or even had other options if I’d had brothers and sisters, but I didn’t. And it wouldn’t have been fair to expect your parents to do more than they’d already done. They watched over Monica while I was in college. Once I graduated, they deserved the freedom to make up for all the years they’d lost when your dad was off fighting wars."

  "I always suspected that your decision to break our engagement was based on more than your mom’s situation, even if you weren’t, and still aren’t, willing to admit it."

  She purposely sidestepped that observation. "I’ve never really forgiven myself for hurting you," she confessed.

  His eyes widened in surprise. "I have. Forgiven you, that is, for not loving me in spite of what I did for a living. Maybe it’s time for you to forgive yourself."

  "But I did love you!" she insisted, shocked that he could think she hadn’t loved him more than life itself.

  "But not enough, Jessica. Not nearly enough," he reminded her. "What about now?"

  His question heightened her growing uneasiness. "I feel a lot of things where you’re concerned," she admitted.

  "What exactly do you feel?"

  "Confused. Wary. Curious." She sighed. "Dev, for both our sakes, don’t do this to yourself or to me. We can’t rehash ancient history without hurting each other all over again."

  "Then we’ll make a new history."

  "We are. As friends," she reminded him.

  "I want more, damn it!"

  "I can’t give you more," she whispered. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back.