On the Run

by Iris Johansen

  He went still. “Donavan talked to you.”

  “This morning,” she said curtly. “He couldn’t wait.”

  “Sorry. I thought I could get to him first. You didn’t need to have to handle this now.”

  “When did you intend to tell me? Another nine years?”

  He shook his head. “I’m no masochist. I was just going to give you a little more time.”

  “For God’s sake, I’m not a helpless idiot.” She tried to steady her voice. “So I wanted to believe something that wasn’t true. So it hurts me and makes me feel a little empty. I can handle it.”

  “I know you can.” He paused. “But I don’t know if I can. Maybe you can give me some advice.”

  “You don’t need advice.” She gathered the reins and prepared to mount. “As I told Frankie, you know all the steps.”

  “The hell I do.” His grasp on her shoulder spun her away from Samson. “I’ve been stumbling blind since the moment I met you.” His eyes were glittering with intensity as they stared into hers. “I didn’t know what hit me.”

  “Sex.”

  “Hell, yes. But there was something else. Sex just got in the way. We didn’t have time to find out if we had a chance for something— It was my fault. I should have— But every time I started to talk to you about—” He shrugged. “Maybe if we’d had a few more months. I couldn’t keep my hands off you. That was the only thing that seemed important. That’s the bottom line.”

  And she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off him. “Maybe that was all there was.”

  “We didn’t get a chance to find out.” His lips twisted. “And when I found out you were pregnant, I felt angry and cheated. I didn’t even think about the kid. I admit it. I just knew that there wasn’t a hope for me. You were angry with me about your father, and I’d knocked you up and burdened you with a child you didn’t want. All I could do was damage control.”

  “I did want Frankie.”

  “When you first found out?”

  She shook her head.

  “See?”

  “That’s all in the past.” She tried to move away from him. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

  “I know. You’re hurting.” His hands moved slowly, almost yearningly, on her shoulders. “I’ll leave you alone. Soon.”

  She was aware that her breathing was becoming shallow. His touch was spreading tingling sensations through her body. Jesus . . . She swallowed. “Now.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t release her. “But it’s no good, you know. We have to find out. It ended too soon. It wasn’t fair to— We have to find out.”

  “I found out eight years ago when Frankie was born. It’s over.”

  “Liar. Then why is your heart beating so hard I can see it in the hollow of your throat?”

  She took a deep breath and jerked away from him. She turned and hurriedly got on the horse.

  “Be honest with me and yourself,” he said quietly. “It will be safe for you. Your choice. I’m not backing you into a corner.” He smiled. “Though I may back you toward the nearest bed given the opportunity. That wouldn’t be so bad. You know you’d like it.”

  Yes, she’d like it. She’d probably go crazy if what she was feeling was any sign. “I can’t deal with this now.”

  He nodded. “I’m not being fair. If I was the kind of man Blockman is, I’d back off. You’ve just had a shock and you’re upset. But I’m not like Blockman. You’ve got to deal with me as I am.”

  “I don’t have to deal with you at all.”

  “Yes, you do. I’m not opting out again. Choose the role you need from me, because I’m not going away.”

  A wild mixture of emotion was tearing through her as she stared at him. Crazy. She mustn’t feel like this. She had come out here to get her head straight, and now it was spinning.

  “Frankie’s waiting for you,” he said quietly.

  Yes, Frankie was waiting. It was Frankie who was important, not this inner turmoil. She kicked Samson into a gallop that sent them racing across the fields toward the ranch.

  Hi, Mom.” Frankie met her as she came up the porch steps. Her gaze searched Grace’s face, and then she gave a relieved sigh. “You’re okay again.”

  “I was always okay.” She gave her a hug. “Why would you think I wasn’t?”

  “You weren’t . . . right.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. But Jake fixed it. He said he would.”

  “Oh, he did? How do you know he fixed it?”

  “You look like you do when you’ve had a good ride. Sort of glowing.”

  “You’ve got a great imagination.” She kissed her cheek. “But if you’re worried again, you come to me and talk about it. Don’t go to strangers.”

  “Jake doesn’t feel like a stranger,” Frankie said. “I have to go to the barn and work out with Robert now. He said I haven’t practiced my martial arts enough since I’ve been here. Want to come and watch?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. You go on. I’ll be there as soon as I go to the bathroom and grab a bottle of water.”

  “Okay.” Frankie looked back at her as she ran down the stairs. “You do look pretty, Mom. Sort of . . . young.”

  “Thank you, I think.”

  She watched Frankie run across the yard toward the stable before she went inside and headed for the bathroom. Robert was doing just the right thing, keeping Frankie busy and focused on the ordinary tasks that had been her life before it was disrupted. They all had to concentrate on—

  My God.

  She had caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror of the medicine chest. She reached up and tentatively touched her cheek, which was flushed with color.

  Glowing, Frankie had said.

  Young, Frankie had said.

  Twenty-three again, when every minute of life was exciting.

  No, she didn’t want that time back. And she didn’t want to look this vulnerable and full of hope and dreams.

  And she didn’t want Kilmer to have the power to bring about that metamorphosis. She’d spent only a short time with him, and yet the result of the emotion he’d ignited was staring at her from the mirror.

  Lord help her. Twenty-three again.

  I’m not pleased, Hanley,” Marvot said. “How did Kilmer get his man through our lines?”

  “There was a distraction from another group he’d stationed to the west. By the time we realized it was a false alarm, he was—”

  “Making me look foolish.” Marvot’s hand clenched into a fist on the desk. “My father taught me that dignity was everything, and you’ve let Kilmer humiliate me three times. First he stole the pouch, then he took that blasted jackass, and now he plucks a wounded man away from within ten miles of El Tariq. And you were in charge on two out of three of those occasions.” His tone took on silky venom. “I believe it’s time you made restitution, don’t you?”

  “I accept full blame,” Hanley said. “I thought— It was unfortunate that—”

  “Unfortunate? That’s not a word I accept. Now tell me how I’m going to keep my associates from thinking I’m a soft touch and trying to move in on my territory?”

  “We’ll find Kilmer and Grace Archer.”

  “When?”

  “The negotiations with the man at Langley are proceeding slowly. He’s playing very coy.” He added quickly as he saw Marvot’s expression, “But I intend to fly out tonight and take over myself to make sure that we get what we want. I won’t come back until I have Kilmer’s location.”

  “No, you won’t come back until you have Kilmer—and Grace Archer. I’m going to have to set an example to erase the taint of your failures. No one is going to be allowed to think that I’m less than my father. I’m not going to have my son hear rumors that I’m a weakling and a fool.” His lips tightened. “I’ll give you seven days to give me Kilmer and Archer, Hanley. No delays, no excuses. Seven days. After that I start the example with you.”

  10

  Donavan, this is my daughter, Frankie,” Grace sa
id. “She’s been anxious to meet you. What’s your first name, Donavan? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

  “And you’re not about to. My mother made the mistake of giving me a name unfit for my gigantic strength and talents. Donavan is just fine.”

  “How intriguing. It tempts me to do a little in-depth exploring,” Grace murmured. “Frankie, Donavan and I used to work together a long time ago.” She closed the door of the bedroom. “He taught me a lot.”

  “Yes, I did.” Donavan held out his hand. “And I’m very pleased to meet you, Frankie.” He frowned. “But a beautiful lass like yourself should be called by a beautiful name. Your true name is Francesca, isn’t it?”

  Frankie nodded. “But that’s too fancy. I like Frankie better.”

  Donavan glanced at Grace. “Why Francesca, Grace?”

  “I spent a few years in Italy as a child and I always liked it.” She grinned at Frankie. “But I didn’t want to hang a big name on a little girl, so Frankie seemed a good compromise.”

  Donavan shook his head. “She could carry Francesca off with style.”

  “What did you teach my mother?” Frankie asked. “Spy stuff?”

  “Well, a little more basic training. You can’t spy or steal secrets until you know how to protect yourself and get in and out of tight corners.”

  Frankie frowned. “You didn’t get out of your tight corner very well. You got shot.”

  “True.” Donavan chuckled. “But I assure you that I wasn’t that clumsy when I was teaching your mother.” He looked at Grace. “And she was one of my best pupils. I was proud of her. Of course, Kilmer would have strangled me if I hadn’t done a good job. He was very particular.”

  “Jake?” Frankie smiled. “Mom says he’s clever. I like him.”

  “So do I.”

  “Frankie, we have to let Donavan get to sleep,” Grace said. “You can visit him another time.”

  “I feel a relapse coming on,” Donavan said. “Don’t cut me short. I want to get to know your daughter. You run along and leave her with me to get acquainted.”

  “Donavan, the doctor—” Grace shrugged and gazed at Frankie. “What do you say?”

  “She wants to stay and have me tell her all about her mom,” Donavan said. “Isn’t that right, Francesca?”

  “Frankie,” Frankie corrected. But she looked intrigued. “Yes, if it wouldn’t hurt him. Could he really have a relapse?”

  “No, he was joking, Frankie.”

  “It would hurt me not to talk to you.” Donavan glanced at Grace and his tone became wheedling. “Maybe not all about her mom. Thirty minutes, Grace?”

  In other words, he wouldn’t mention Kilmer and Grace’s relationship. Donavan could be discreet when he chose. But it was only when he chose. She nodded as she opened the door. “Thirty minutes. Then get to bed, Frankie.”

  “Right.” Frankie settled in the chair next to Donavan’s bed, her eyes fixed intently on Donavan’s face. “Why was it you who taught my mom instead of Jake?”

  “Because I was smarter, naturally.”

  Frankie shook her head. “If you were smarter, Jake would be working for you.”

  Grace smothered a smile as she closed the door behind her. Donavan would get to know Frankie, all right, and she might give him a few surprises. Her daughter seldom held anything back unless she thought it would hurt someone’s feelings. She’d instinctively realize Donavan was fair game. She’d be gauging him at the same time he’d be gauging her.

  “How’s Donavan?”

  She stiffened as she turned to see Kilmer at the head of the stairs. “He seems fine. Better than I thought he’d be. What does the doctor say?”

  “That he’s bouncing back at an unbelievably fast rate. Dr. Krallon’s having a hard time making him rest.” He paused. “I saw you take Frankie in to see him.”

  She nodded. “He wanted to get to know her and shooed me away.”

  “And you let him get away with it?”

  “I want him to get to know her. I want him to care about her. I want the whole world to care about her. Maybe that way I can keep her safe.”

  “Very smart.”

  She shook her head. “Desperate.” She started to pass him, and he reached out and grasped her arm. She froze. “Don’t do that.”

  “I’ll keep her safe, Grace. Ask me why.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Because I care about her. She’s got me hook, line, and sinker.”

  “You can’t have her.”

  “For God’s sake, I told you I wouldn’t try to steal her away from you. But can’t you give me as much as you give Donavan?” His hand tightened on her arm. “Let me get to know her without worrying that you’re going to panic and snatch her away. Your reasoning should apply to me too. The more I care about her, the harder I’ll work to keep her safe.”

  She wasn’t reasoning at all where he was concerned. She was only feeling. “It’s . . . different. There’s too much in the way.”

  “Then knock it down,” he said roughly. “Knock it all down. And you know what would do it. I’m not saying sex would clear away everything between us, but it would let us get close enough to see the problems from another perspective. Shit, what am I saying? If I’m that close to you, I won’t be able to think about anything but what I’m doing to you.” His hand dropped away from her. “Hell, and maybe I was using Frankie to get you in bed. God, I hope I’m not that much of a son of a bitch.” He turned away. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t even get near Frankie.”

  She’d never seen Kilmer like this. He was always so sure, so confident. She felt a sudden surge of sympathy mixed with exasperation. First he’d thrown her off balance with that burst of sheer sexual attraction, and then made her feel bewildered and sorry for him. “For heaven’s sake, I didn’t say you shouldn’t get near her.”

  He looked back at her, waiting.

  “I just said I didn’t want—” She went past him down the hall toward her bedroom. “Just don’t get her confused. Don’t make her like you too much and then leave her. She’s had enough of that.”

  “What did you tell her about her father, Grace?”

  “Nothing. I told her I’d made a mistake, but that I’d do it over again if it meant having another child like her.”

  “No blame?”

  “Why should I blame you? I was a grown woman and I made the choice. I didn’t protect myself. I was to blame.” She opened her door. “You were out of it.”

  “Jesus, that hurts.”

  “Not as much as missing Frankie’s first steps. Or her first words, or singing her to sleep at night. You have no idea.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She looked back over her shoulder and went still as she saw his expression. Perhaps he did realize what he had missed and was hurting because of it. There had been moments when they were together that she had seen glimpses of the Kilmer behind that contained exterior. She had admired him to the point of hero worship, and she had loved his body and everything he did to her. What if she’d really known the entire man? Would she have chosen to trust the affection of her father over Kilmer’s word?

  His gaze narrowed on her face as he read her expression. “Grace . . .”

  She quickly went into her bedroom and shut the door. She closed her eyes as she leaned back against it. She felt as if she was tingling, melting. Her heart was pounding fast, hard. This crazy response had to stop.

  It wasn’t going to stop. Not as long as she was in the same house as Kilmer, seeing him every day. And there was no question she had to stay here with Frankie until it was safe. She couldn’t close him out, and every time she saw him the tension increased.

  She could ignore it. Keep busy. Spend time with Frankie.

  She had a sudden memory of the way Kilmer had looked at her in that last moment before she had gone into the bedroom. Raw, basic, hot, and so intense she had panicked because it had been like looking into a mirror.

  Lord, she hoped she could ig
nore it.

  Do you like your Gypsy as well as you do Darling?”

  Frankie looked up from brushing Gypsy to see Jake leaning on the stall door. “I like them the same. It wouldn’t be fair to have a favorite. They might know and get their feelings hurt.”

  “I see.” He smiled. “Not even in your heart of hearts?”

  She thought about it. “They’re different, you know. Gypsy is solid and gentle, and Darling is nervous and . . . fun. I want to be around them at different times. I wish I could have Darling here.”

  “It seems to me you have enough to do. Your music and Gypsy.”

  “But you’re never too busy for a good friend.” She started brushing Gypsy again. “And I don’t have many friends.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t like the same things as most kids. They think I’m weird.”

  “And it bothers you?”

  “A little. Sometimes. The riding is okay. Lots of kids in Tallanville ride. But not many play an instrument, and none of them hears the music.”

  “Would you rather have the friends and skip the music?”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I take it that’s a no?”

  “It’s part of me. How could I just stop? And it makes me feel . . . I don’t know . . . as if I were an eagle flying or maybe Darling when she jumps high and—” She shook her head. “No, Darling is scared, and I’m not scared of the music. I guess I’ve never seen a horse who’s like the music.”

  “I believe I have.”

  Her gaze flew to his face. “Where?”

  “Two horses, really. In Morocco. Your mother’s seen them too.”

  “She never told me about them.”

  “They’re not the kind of horses that she’d want you to ride. They’re full of thunder and lightning. But when you see them run, they might remind you of the music.”

  “Thunder and lightning . . . Tchaikovsky?”

  “Or Chopin.”

  “I want to see them.”

  “Perhaps someday.”

  “What are their names?”

  “They call them the Pair. I’ve never heard them called anything else.”