Heart of the Wild

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Heart of the Wild Page 8

by Rita Hestand


  He had to get his mind off her, somehow. Everything he had set out to accomplish was slowly coming into play, only he wasn't enjoying it as much as he thought he would. Maybe true revenge wasn't that sweet. Dammit, this wasn't like him. Sure, deep down he wanted some revenge, but after last night, after having her in his arms again, he quickly realized revenge wouldn't do a bit of good. He still wanted Kasie--all of her, but on her terms.

  He didn't want to care. He knew it was futile to care. Yet part of him knew he did and always would. He'd kicked himself in the head a dozen times or more for being so stupid, but that deep down, dull ache in his gut told him he better keep on kicking.

  The truth was the rightness between him and Kasie was the closest he'd come to finding a woman for himself.

  What a vision she was. He hadn't wanted to be attracted to her, then or now. She wasn't for him, he kept telling himself. She was going to be married shortly. She was John's daughter, for God's sake!

  He couldn't help admiring her grit, her free spirit, her determination to survive no matter what circumstance he threw at her. And he deliberately threw a few of them her way. Deep down it was the independence she fought so hard for, from her parents, that made him admire her the most. It was a hard battle fighting Ava and John, too.

  He secretly liked the way she cared how much he smoked. He liked her soft heart for animals. Hell, he just liked her! Kasie was quite a woman.

  Lord, the woman could kiss, too, and being a gentleman had just gotten harder. Hell, he didn't want to be a gentleman, not any more. He wanted to take her to his bed, and make her his, the way it should have been eight years ago. Then, she had still been a child, now, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Maybe that was the problem she was a woman now, not a cute, naive little kid.

  What had her life been like for the past eight years? With Ava she must have wanted for nothing. Yet something about her newfound independence told him she didn't wallow in luxury. The woman had spunk.

  She was tall for a woman, he told himself, yet almost fragile looking. And he liked the fact that he didn't have to stoop over to touch her lips.

  He had deliberately sought women with robust figures, and short, they had to be short. He chuckled to himself, but no one had fit against him better than Kasie. It felt as though God himself had made her body just for him. He was Adam; she was Eve. He raised his eyes to the heavens, and prayed silently for some guidance. His faith had always kept him strong.

  She felt like the missing link to a puzzle. How could anything so right, be so wrong?

  He had called her a brat, to hurt her a little. He had to keep alive the memory of how she had hurt him; nurture it, so he didn't fall victim to it again. That famous Kasie charm was fatal to him.

  He wished more than ever that he could find a fatal flaw.

  His eyes went over her even more slowly, soaking in the beauty of her. Her face was still like butter cream, except when he managed to embarrass her, and her hair like the silver strings of a harp. He wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through the quicksilver. Her eyes looked innocent, restless, and the color of the sea. Strangely enough, he could still read most of her expressions.

  Don't let yourself get too carried away, she's not for you, he scolded himself silently. She never had been. She belonged to a man named Springer, now, and the sooner he expelled her from his life, the sooner he could get on with his own.

  Still, his curiosity got the best of him at times. What was this Springer character like? Had Ava picked him out? Did Kasie truly love the man? He doubted it. She hadn't mentioned him much. She didn't look as though she were pining for him, either.

  The proud Indian side warred continuously with the temperamental Irish.

  He was deep into thought when she whirled around to put the quilts up, and saw him standing in the open doorway, staring.

  "I didn't hear you come in. Shut the door please, it's already getting cold in here."

  He bolted the door, not liking the intimacy it threw the room into. He needed space, lots of space. Right now, he felt as though the whole damned mountain wasn't big enough for the two of them.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Actually, I've been talking to your father this morning on the ham radio. I'm afraid you aren't going to like the news."

  His eyes avoided hers. Kasie let the quilts fall from her arms on to the top of the trunk, then thrust her hands in her jeans pockets, as she stared long and hard at him.

  The jeans fit loosely, and those small jutting breasts almost pierced the big sweatshirt she wore. She had no idea what a cute little clown she made. A very tempting clown. His loins tightened.

  "Why didn't you wake me? I'd like to have spoken with him. Perhaps we could have settled this whole thing over the radio."

  When he didn't respond, she slumped her shoulders in tired resignation. "Don't tell me, let me guess, he's not coming, is he?" Amory didn't say a word, he didn't have to; she made it up as she went along. "I'm not so sure you're not a kidnapper, after all. Maybe you have some sinister reason for doing this. Like revenge? Although knowing what my dad thinks of you, I can't understand why you'd try it. He'd never forgive you this."

  Amory stirred sugar and cream into his coffee, and looked at her over the rim. Anger stared him in the face. Blatant, bald-faced anger. She had every right. She hadn't called him any more names than he had already labeled himself with, but it looked as though they were truly stuck with each other. Somehow, they were going to have to work this out.

  "He's coming; it's just taking him longer than he anticipated."

  "How much longer?"

  Amory took one big swig of coffee, then placed his cup down on the kitchen counter and folded his arms over his chest. Would he have to do battle every day with her? Couldn't she give him a break once in a while?

  "Now look, before you get that temper of yours out of hand, I'd like you to listen. I know how this looks, and I don't like it any better than you do."

  He watched her firm her lips, and saw her furrowed brow.

  "It isn't his or anyone's fault. The government down there won't let any Americans leave the country. It's a political issue of some kind. He wants you to wait for him. Said to tell you if Rick Springer really loves you, he'll wait."

  "He's still in South America? My God," she gasped. "This is impossible!" Tears sparked in her eyes.

  Amory squirmed.

  "It's typical of my father, but impossible. Look, you may not realize it, but I've got a job, and--and Rick will be anxious, not to mention mother. I've got to get back! I can't stay here! You're going to have to arrange something. You got me in this mess, now I expect you to get me out of it."

  "I agree. I got you in this mess." He rolled his shoulders, as though preparing for battle. "And believe me, I'm sorry for my part in it. I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here."

  He saw the quick flash of something in her eyes that surprised him. Was it something close to pain? Surely he had imagined it. He cleared his throat.

  "But, I have managed to take care of a few things for you. I left Kyle with instructions on how to get hold of your Mother and explain the situation."

  "Kyle?"

  "Yes, my neighbor with the ham radio."

  "I suppose that was thoughtful of you. Although I don't know how anyone could explain this, so it makes sense. Even though I'm sure you didn't do it for my benefit. By now everyone is probably frantic. I haven't seen a paper since I arrived, but I'm sure the reporters are having a field day with this one. My God, no phone, no papers, it's like some kind of magnificent hideout. What are you, a complete recluse?" She glanced at him again when he didn't say anything.

  She babbled on.

  "Mother's probably in a tirade. And I've got to confess, I'm beginning to wonder about this situation. So," she faced him squarely, "if you are a kidnapper, why don't you at least admit it? I mean, what can I do?"

  He couldn't blame her for the direction her
thoughts were taking her. It did look like some sort of set up, and it was.

  "Look, I don't blame you for how you must feel. But I can't help the situation anymore than you can. I hadn't planned on you being stuck here more than a day or two, at the very most. Tanka's negotiating our next contract right now. We'll be back in business in a few days. I certainly don't need a woman around complicating things. But we can cope, can't we?"

  "You can't help it now, but you could have avoided it earlier? And I thought Rosie said you lost the account?" she protested, her expressive eyes saying more than she did.

  "That's rumor. Besides, I've got plenty of work to do, regardless. Now look, Kasie, I've apologized. What more do you want?"

  "You could have said no to my father, and that would have been the end of it." She stomped her foot and turned away.

  "No." She slowly turned to face him again. "I guess you couldn't. You never could say no to Dad. One of your many failings. It would take a real man to say no to my father!"

  He wouldn't dignify that with a comment.

  "This is so like him. My father is always untimely. One of my mother's biggest complaints was his inability to meet schedules. If you knew him so well, you should have suspected this might happen, and have taken precautions."

  His glance hardened on her face.

  Kasie stood tall and erect, a look of exasperation lining her fresh scrubbed face. She didn't need make-up to make her beautiful. Kasie's beauty was her spirit.

  "Just tell me one thing, Amory. If you aren't a kidnapper, and this is really on the level, why does my father want to stop this wedding? I mean, what possible good will it do?"

  It was a fair question, and a question that deserved an answer. How could he answer without sending her into another rage?

  "Look, I don't want to get in the middle of it."

  "In the middle of it?" she practically screamed at him. "Don't you think bringing me here automatically put you in the middle?"

  "Point taken," he sighed heavily, not looking directly at her as he spoke. Lying wasn't in his nature. "Since you asked, I'll tell you what I know about it. He wanted to postpone the wedding for a while. Ask you a few questions about this guy."

  He saw her head jerk up, and she stared coldly at him. "Just until he had a chance to talk to you about it. Something about Rick's temperament."

  "He thinks Rick beats me?" she cried aloud, unable to help herself.

  "Does he?"

  "No--of course not. He's got a temper, but he's never used it on me. He knows better. I can handle myself."

  "I've no doubt of that. But your father thinks otherwise. He doesn't think you are capable of making up your own mind about anything, from what I gather. Personally, I think he's wrong, but that's your father's opinion. He mentioned your mother's constant interference in your life in the past few years. Said he'd read some things about this Springer he didn't like. That's about it."

  She said nothing, seeming to taste his words.

  "He said he's managed to stay out of your business too long as it were. John's never dealt with guilt very well. If you knew how bad he's felt about letting Ava have her way for the past eight years, you'd understand. She wanted him completely out of your life. She pushed him out. She even went so far as to have your name changed."

  "She didn't do that, I did. As soon as I left, eight years ago."

  Amory felt his tempter flaring, but he had to bide his time. No use living with an exploding time bomb.

  "I guess when he saw you were engaged to a rock star, he decided he'd been silent long enough."

  When he realized he wasn't getting anywhere, he approached her differently. "Maybe he's not giving the guy a fair break; it's hard to say, but he's only trying to help. I'm sure he doesn't want to see you become an old maid, but ..."

  Kasie's finely arched brow rose a quarter of an inch. "Old maid! I'm only twenty-six! And for your information, a woman doesn't have to marry a man these days, either. People can live together, perfectly happy without the benefit of marriage."

  "That's true for some. So why are you marrying him?"

  Her mouth fell open to answer, but just as quickly shut.

  "Some might live together as you put it. But I wouldn't put you in that category, Kasie. No, you're the marrying kind."

  "Marrying kind? Marrying bed." She tossed her head in the direction of his bed. "What makes Chayton Amory the marriage expert, anyway?"

  When he refused to rise to her baiting, she went on. "Is that how you see me, helpless? You're remembering a naive little child. I'm a woman now, fully grown, able to fend for myself, and make my own decisions without the help of either of my parents. Father never could accept my growing up."

  Her eyes flashed dramatically at him. Pain jumped into his heart, stabbing him; he loved the fire within her. It was part of what made him love her so much, back then. Her spirit. Grown, yes, she was grown, into a beautiful woman. By now, had they married they would have had a couple of children--but they hadn't. And the loss stared him blatantly in the face. So this is what he missed and craved so deeply--a family of his own— and her.

  "This is none of his business. It's a little late. And what, of all things, has my mother got to do with my life?"

  Amory felt uncomfortable with her questions. He needed her compliance.

  He shrugged heavily, knowing he must give her some answer. "He seems to think she's been managing your life, and doing a poor job of it."

  She gasped, and Amory remembered the sweet taste of her from last night. The problem was, he remembered much too much about that kiss. In fact, he remembered every detail, her taste, her feel, her. He wanted a repeat, and he wanted it now.

  "Managing my life. My Mother! And so now he wants to manage it again. It figures. In some ways, they are so alike."

  "I'm just repeating what he said."

  "He actually thinks Mother picked Rick out for me? Dear God, I hadn't realized how he was thinking. Yes," she said slowly, her eyes averted to the floor, "I can see that now."

  He drew closer. "So now you know. And it hasn't made the least difference."

  Kasie's voice rose with her anger and frustration as he approached her. "Look, he's wrong. Dead wrong. My mother doesn't manage me! And Rick doesn't beat me."

  Her foot tapped against the floor until he glanced at it.

  "No one controls me! Not anymore! And not that she hasn't tried, Lord help me," she admitted lamely, "but my mistakes have been my own."

  "Really," he drawled arrogantly, ". . .is Rick a mistake?"

  "Maybe you should take your own advice and stay out of it."

  "Was walking out on me a mistake?" He queried, his shoulders tensing for her answer. He needed this answer more than she would ever know.

  She glanced up at him. "No!" The word was simple, but her expression said so much more than her words. She was lying, to herself, to him. "No, that wasn't a mistake. Probably the smartest thing I've ever done for both our sakes."

  He bristled.

  He should have let it slide, but somehow he just couldn't. "Both our sakes?"

  "It wasn't all your fault, even I realize that. Father can be very controlling."

  "Can he? You seem to think your father is the only man on earth with a mind of his own. You think for yourself, but don't think I'm capable of having one solitary thought. Did it never occur to you I might have wanted to marry you?"

  "Why should it? You never said anything." She stared at him for a moment, and her expression weakened under his intense glare.

  "Three little words. That's all it would have taken for me to believe it."

  "Perhaps a man's actions should speak louder than his words," he thundered. He saw the rise and fall of her breast, the hurt and anguish of rehashing, within her. He wanted to hold her, tell her now how much he had loved her, but knew that it would be futile until she could trust him. Still, her unshed tears made him long to hold her, caress her, and reassure her.

  She blinked and turned
away. "That was a long time ago. Whatever mistakes were made no longer matter. I know my own mind! I've always known my own mind!"

  "Then you knew what you were doing last night?"

  "Last night?"

  "You were flirting with me, admit it."

  Her lips quivered. "Flirting? I most certainly was not. I was just stunned by your damned bear," she gasped with indignation.

  "You've been flirting with me ever since you got here."

  She glared up at him, her green eyes turning emerald. "Why, you swine!" She raised her hand to slap his face, and was captured by one big hand.

 

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