by Lori Wilde
“I came to see you,” he said.
“Me?”
“May I come in? I need to talk to you about Tess?”
“Oh, yes, well sure.” Abby stood aside and let Jackson into the room. Hands clutched behind his back, he started pacing.
“You want to sit down?”
He shook his head. “Too keyed up.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be shooting today.”
“I got sent home.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t concentrate. Kept making mistakes.”
“What’s wrong?”
He looked at her balefully. “Tess and I had a huge fight last night.”
Abby had been worried about their romance from the start, but Jackson looked so woebegone she felt sorry for him.
“What happened?”
“She broke up with me because I wouldn’t sleep with her.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with her.” Jackson clutched his hair in despair. “In fact, I want her so much I can’t even think straight. But she’s important to me and I don’t want to rush things. I have a history of moving too fast with women and then when they get serious, I run away. But Tess is different. She’s special.”
“I know.” Abby nodded.
“I didn’t want to screw things up with her.”
“Did you tell her all this?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She said she doesn’t ‘do’ commitment. It was either sex or nothing. What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“She’s scared.”
Jackson laughed ruefully. “Of course she’s scared. I’m scared, too. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. But I’m more scared of losing her.”
Abby reached out to touch his shoulder. “I think maybe she’s falling in love with you, too, and that’s why she got so panicky.”
“But how do I convince her to take a chance on me, on us?”
“You’ve got your work cut out for you. Her childhood was a mess. She got shuffled from her mother to her father to boarding schools and back again. She’s got more than a dozen stepbrothers and sisters. She can’t keep them all straight. She hasn’t had much of a role model for commitment. Her life’s been a swinging door with people coming and going.”
“My mum and dad have been married for forty years,” Jackson mused.
“So why haven’t you settled down?”
He shrugged. “Wanted to have a bit of fun. That’s what being a stuntman in the movies was supposed to be all about. But I’m thirty now. My bones aren’t what they used to be and as for the girls and the parties, I’ve been there and done that. It’s time for more and Tess is the one I want it with.”
“I respect you for that.”
“Seems you’ve known Tess longer and better than anyone else. Tell me how to court her.”
“Pull out all the grand gestures in your arsenal. Do something totally romantic. Let her see you mean this. Let her know sex isn’t enough for you.”
“What if she turns me down?”
“Don’t give up. She needs a forceful guy who can hang in there when she tries to chase you off—and she will.”
“Anything else?”
“Be there for her. Don’t let her gruffness scare you. She doesn’t mean it. She’s just testing you. She needs to know you won’t ditch her at the first sign of conflict. You’re ahead of the game, you’ve got your mom and dad as road maps. Use them.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Jackson said, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “I’m going to win her heart, just wait and see.”
“Good luck.” Abby smiled and watched him head out the door. For the sake of Tess’s future happiness, she could only pray that Jackson Dauber was half the man she thought he was.
RESTLESS AFTER Jackson’s visit, Abby went for a walk in the spa’s garden. She’d had a facial, a massage, gotten both a manicure and a pedicure and she was fed up with being pampered. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon and Durango wouldn’t be by to pick her up for hours and hours.
She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what he had in store for tonight. Surely, this time they would finally be going all the way, fully consummating their affair.
But just not in a bed.
Abby grinned. Where would their assignation take place? They’d already fooled around in ancient ruins, in a salsa club and in a hot-air balloon. What could possibly top that?
Making love in a vortex.
She shivered. Yes. That’s what she wanted. To feel the power of the earth’s energy combine with their own cosmic kind.
Already she was getting warm at the prospect.
Feeling decidedly untranquil, she and her flaming-scarlet aura left the garden. She walked through the lobby where the desk clerk had the television turned on.
She wouldn’t even have noticed the five-o’clock news program, if she hadn’t heard her father’s voice. Abby stopped dead in her tracks and swung her eyes around to fix on the television set.
There was Judge Wayne Archer at a fund-raising rally with Ken Rockford at his side, surrounded by a crowd of supporters waving signs and banners. He was spouting his get-tough policy for juvenile offenders.
She’d never questioned her father’s politics before. He was a conservative with high moral values. He believed right was right and wrong was wrong. When Durango had defiled his stepmother’s warehouse with obscene graffiti, the judge had seen absolutely nothing wrong with teaching him a lesson by tossing him in jail for a week.
Problem was, exactly what lesson had the judge taught that young man? That you couldn’t depend on your family and friends to stand by your side when you made a mistake? That authority was always right? That there was no room for either compromise or error?
No wonder Durango had felt so betrayed. Why hadn’t she been able to understand this before?
As she watched the screen, someone in the crowd caught her eye and her heart froze.
It was the Monte-Carlo-driving, bad-clothes-wearing man who had been following her. Except he now had on an expensive suit and he was whispering something in Ken’s ear.
If Abby’s aura had been flaming scarlet before, it now had to be vivid, angry crimson.
It was one thing to suspect her father was having her followed; it was something else entirely to have it publicly confirmed on television.
And she was going to let her father know about it in no wishy-washy, accommodating, people-pleasing terms.
Rage, vivid and clear, had her clenching her fists. Heartfelt passion for all the things she’d never known she believed in sent her storming up the stairs to her room.
Until now, she’d never felt okay about expressing her anger. She’d always viewed it as a negative force to be avoided because it upset people.
Well, enough of that. Under Durango’s masterful tutelage, she had learned a lot over the past few days with the main thrust of her lessons being that it was perfectly all right to own your emotions, whether positive or negative.
It was startling for her to realize that she had a legitimate right to experience and exercise her anger. She finally grasped the true meaning of her ire and now she understood why her father encouraged her to suppress it. Anger gave her the power to say no. It took the control out of his hands and placed it firmly in hers.
The anxiety she usually felt whenever she dared cross him was gone. So was her urge to sneeze.
Abby picked up the phone and dialed her father’s cell phone number the minute the rally was over.
“Hello,” her father answered the phone.
No fear. In fact, she was incredibly calm. “Daddy,” she said. “I know what you did and I want you to know that it won’t be tolerated.”
“Abby? Is that you?”
“Yes, this is your meek, obedient daughter. Except I’m no longer so meek or obedient.”
“What’s going on? What’s happened?”
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��I know you hired a guy to spy on me and I can’t believe your lack of trust. Except I can. I won’t have you interfere in my life anymore.”
“I don’t know where you got your information, but I did not send anyone to spy on you.”
“Please, don’t lie to me. I caught the broadcast of your rally. I saw the guy who’s been following me packed in with your supporters. I’m so disappointed in you, Daddy. I won’t live in your house, I’ve decided to move out.” She didn’t even know she was going to say it until she’d said it, but she’d been thinking it for a while.
All she heard on the other end was stunned silence. She took a deep breath and continued.
“In fact, I’m leaving Phoenix all together. I’m moving to Sedona.”
“Moving in with Durango Creed?”
“Ha! How do you know about Durango if you haven’t been spying on me?”
“Your old friend Suzanne Thompson was in Sedona on vacation and saw you at a dance club with Durango. I didn’t say anything because I figured you had a right to sow your wild oats as long as the news media didn’t get wind of it, but I gave you more credit than you deserved. I didn’t believe you’d actually do something as stupid as letting the guy turn your head. He’s behind your upsetting behavior, admit it.”
“Durango has helped me see a few things, yes. Like how I’m never going to become an independent, free-thinking woman as long as I stay in Silverton Heights.”
“But Abby, think this through. What about your job?”
“You got that job for me. You wanted me to have it. It was never my idea. I took it because it pleased you, because it was easier than examining my own heart and deciding what it was I wanted to do with my life.”
“You’ve turned into Cassandra,” he said bitterly. “I knew this was going to happen.”
“No, Daddy, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve finally turned into Abby.”
And with that, she switched off the phone.
“I’M LEAVING PHOENIX,” Abby told Durango when he came to pick her up that evening.
“What?”
“My father and I had it out.”
“Was I the cause?”
“It’s been a long time coming, I just didn’t see it. You were right, as long as I’m living under his thumb I’ll never know for sure what it is I want out of life.”
“Abby…I…” Durango stared at her, his feelings a confused jumble. He’d done it. He’d accomplished his goal of unleashing her passion and getting back at her father.
He wasn’t happy.
Now that he’d done it, he realized that wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was Abby. But what would she say if she knew he’d been looking for revenge when he started up their affair?
“I don’t want to bury my passion anymore. I thought I could have fun, have a sexual adventure or two and then go back to my life in Phoenix. But I realized that’s impossible. I’ve changed, you’ve changed me and I’m not ashamed of my sexuality any longer.”
“Oh.” He didn’t know how he felt about this turn of events.
“I want everything you can dish out, Durango. Don’t hold back. I want you to make love to me. I want it to be the most amazing experience of my life.”
“No pressure there,” he laughed uneasily.
“Come on,” she said, picking up her room key. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get started.”
“I’m starting to feel like a sex object,” Durango protested jokingly. “And it’s not a particularly nice feeling.”
She growled and grabbed him by the collar. “You’re so much more than a sex object, Durango, and you know it. You’re kind and considerate. You’re tender and tough. You’re any woman’s dream man. Now let’s go. I want to come all night long.”
Durango blinked. Holy cow, he’d created a monster. Shocked, he simply escorted her out to the Jeep. Was this feisty woman really his Abby? He kept peeking over at her to make sure.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
A full moon, yellow and ripe, hung heavy in the sky. A sprinkling of stars stretched out like diamonds on black velvet.
“Satan’s Bridge,” he said.
“I like the sound of that. Is that near a vortex?” she asked.
“It’s at the epicenter of one.”
“Cool.”
Good God, the woman was turbocharged and bouncing around in the seat like she’d just downed a case of Red Bull. What on earth had happened to her? He wasn’t so sure he could handle this dynamite side of her.
You unleashed her, buddy boy, get used to it.
He had waited until it was quite late before picking her up. He wanted to make sure they were alone on Satan’s Bridge. It was almost ten o’clock by the time he parked in the National Forest parking lot, stuck the Red Rock park pass on the dashboard and pocketed his keys.
Abby helped him carry the supplies he’d brought with them. Champagne and snacks. Blankets and climbing gear and a rope sling. With the mood she was in, he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the acrobatic moves he had planned.
The hike through the dark wasn’t strenuous or dangerous and twenty minutes later, they arrived at the narrow natural stone bridge rising fifty-five feet above the ground.
The minute they set foot on the bridge, he could feel the pull of the vortex, luring them onward.
“I feel it,” Abby whispered. “It’s all around us.”
“It’s inside us, too,” he said.
“I know.” Her eyes were wide with wonder. “We’re going to make love on this bridge.”
“We’re going to do more than that, Angel. I’m giving your passion the full court press.”
“Bring it on,” she whispered.
They laid down their supplies on the sandy ground at the entrance to the bridge. Then Durango turned, pulled Abby into his arms and kissed her in the light of the full moon.
Every time he kissed her, it got better and better. Her mouth was a furnace, stoking his desire, making him forget his nervousness. Tonight, they were going all the way.
No more teasing games.
And he planned on loving her until the sun came up and they could barely walk back to the Jeep.
This was his woman. He knew her in the marrow of his bones, in the wisdom of his blood. There was not an inch of her he would not touch, would not taste.
His hands, his lips, his tongue, his eyes would travel the lands of her body, past the boundaries of flesh and bone, into the very matrix of her soul.
She was his and he was hers. They belonged together. He would make sure she understood that.
Because his love for her was as ancient as the mesas looming around them, as wild as roving wolves, and as ferocious as the lightning that strikes across desert skies in the pitch-black storm of the loneliest night.
He undressed her in the moonlight, his fingers reverently tugging at her buttons, her zipper, her panties and shoes.
She undressed him, too, and the gasp of pleasure that escaped her lips, when she saw him fully nude at last, swelled Durango’s heart with pride.
It was ego, he knew, but he loved that she appreciated his body, just as he appreciated hers.
They left their clothes in a heap on the ground. He tucked the blanket under his arm, took her hand and naked, they walked out onto the rock bridge that was little more than six feet wide. On either side of them gaped empty space, dark and mysterious.
One wrong move and they would tumble into the abyss wrapped in each other’s arms.
That was why he had brought the climbing gear. Now that he’d finally found her again, he wasn’t about to lose her.
The sandstone was rough and cool beneath their bare feet. He spread out the blanket, had her sit down, then went back for the ropes and the pulleys and chains. He’d already been here earlier in the day and rigged up the hardware into the rocks. He’d tested it numerous times to make sure it was completely secure. What they were about to do was less dangerous than hang gliding but ten times more thrilling.
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Or at least he hoped so. He had never done this before.
Abby watched him connect the equipment. “We’re going to make love up here.”
“Yes.”
“We could die,” she said.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She met his eyes, moistened her lips until they glistened wetly in the moon glow. She knew tonight would be the pinnacle of their time together. There was no hesitation in her voice when she murmured, “Yes.”
He attached cables to the bolts centered in the rocks on both sides of the bridge. He added pulleys and the rope swing. Then he attached a climbing harness around his waist and secured it to the riggings and brought the second harness over to Abby.
“Stand up.”
She did and he strapped the nylon contraption around her beautiful bare waist.
When he had completed his task, she reached forward to gently cup his groin. His cock rose to greet her tender touch. He had broken through her civilized shell and released the primal woman within.
He was overwhelmed.
Their mouths met and his hands flew to her exposed skin. She was hot. Hot with passion and energy and feminine power. Durango looked at his fingers then, making sure they weren’t seared to the bone.
Slowly Abby sank to the blanket, taking his arm, taking him with her. Their kissing continued but grew more demanding.
Abby was beyond beauty to him. She was pure intellect and pure animal. Her cool reserve had completely melted, her inner instincts bucking against all the stuffy edicts of her society. She caressed his body without caution or fear, all her doubts, all her hesitation gone.
She filled his past as much as she filled his present and, he hoped, his future. He had never before been so physically possessed by a woman. Her tongue was an exquisite instrument of torture, her fingers a delicate tool of delicious anguish.
The boldness.
The audacity.
The daring.
She had given up her facade, given in to her real self, surrendered to the connection of passion flowing out of the air, mixing and vibrating with her blood.
They were situated directly above a dominant electromagnetic vortex. The yin and the yang of force fields. Masculine and feminine combined for the ultimate in balance and power and strength. Neither was whole without the other.