Love Me Tender

by Wendy Vella

  He muttered something rude.

  “I’ll go first, then you, okay?” he gritted out.

  She nodded.

  Once she was down safely, they made their way back to the horses.

  “I think I’ll head back now,” Rory said. “Pass me the cat and I’ll just follow the trail back with it.”

  “You’re not serious?” Jack said. “You’d get lost in minutes.”

  “We haven’t come that far,” she scoffed.

  “For a veterinary physician, you don’t have too many smarts.”

  “I do too!”

  “We’ll head back, you keep riding,” he said to his family, who were watching the byplay between him and Rory with interest.

  “Nope, we’re done,” Joe said, “and having too much fun watching you and Rory go at each other to miss out on anything.” The last was quiet enough that only Jack could hear.

  “I’ll take the cat,” Rory said.

  “You can only just keep yourself on a horse. How the hell are you carrying that beast as well?”

  “There’s no need to be rude.”

  “There’s every bloody need when you’re being foolish.”

  She turned away from him to look up the mountain with a pissed-off look on her face.

  Jack mounted and took the cat, who was now strangely silent, and turned for home.

  They completed the ride back in silence, and it was snowing as they entered the stables.

  “Good timing,” Dylan said. He dismounted and took the reins of his horse. Jack dismounted carrying the cat.

  “Keys,” he said to Rory. She reluctantly handed them to him. Jack put the cat in her car and eased the jacket open slightly, then shut the door.

  “You coming up to the house for gingerbread?” Piper was saying to Rory when he returned.

  “I won’t, but thanks for the ride.”

  Jack watched Rory get off the horse gingerly.

  “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?” He headed toward her.

  “No, I’m fine, just a bit stiff. I haven’t ridden much.”

  She handed Pip her horse, then walked around Jack toward the door.

  “I need to see to the cat, but thanks, it was great.”

  “Rory—”

  Ignoring him, she hurried out the doors. Seconds later he heard her car start.

  “So, Princess Aurora May Haldane,” Luke said, coming to stand at his side.

  “That’s who she was.”

  “So you and her.” He elbowed Jack in the ribs.

  “There is no me and her... or us. We’re just friends.”

  The loud scoffing sounds from his family just pissed him off.

  Chapter 23

  Jack knocked on Rory’s front door the morning after she’d rescued the cat. He’d brought her briefcase back and that was the only reason he was here, he told himself, not because he wanted to see her and make sure she was doing okay after that fall yesterday.

  “Rory, open up!” He banged a fist on the front door. It wasn’t early in his book. Nine was midmorning for Trainers.

  He waited, stomping his feet to keep them warm. It’d snowed last night. Enough to make driving a hazard, and the mountains picturesque.

  Exhaling a loud puff of white air, he looked around while he waited for her to answer.

  “Rory!” He pounded on the door again, but she didn’t open it. If she wasn’t already awake, surely he’d woken her. He tried not to think of her lovely warm body under those covers, and how good it would feel pressed to his.

  He tried the handle, but it was locked, so he walked around the outside.

  His feet crunched on something, and looking down he saw it was glass. He then looked up at the jagged hole in the top of the window pane.

  “What the hell! Rory!”

  A sudden blast of fear gripped Jack. Something was off.

  “Rory!” He yelled her name but she didn’t respond. He circled the house, searching for a way in, but no windows were open for him to climb through. He dropped his shoulder into the front door, but the wood didn’t budge. After a second attempt all he had was a sore shoulder, so Jack headed to the back door.

  This one looked less solid. A hard hit had it opening. He ran into the living area and through into the kitchen. She wasn’t in any of the bedrooms either. The covers were messed on the bed, but he saw no sign of Rory.

  “Where the hell are you?” His heart was thumping so hard in his chest it hurt.

  Walking back through each room again, he paused in the doorway of the bedroom Rory was using—and it was then he saw the edge of a blanket sticking out of the closet. Easing the door open, he found her.

  She lay wrapped in a mound of blankets on her side, curled in on herself, her hands in fists pressed to her chest. The cat they’d rescued was curled behind her knees. They both slept.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jack dropped to his knees. Her hair was a tangled mess, so he pushed it aside softly to see her eyes. She didn’t even twitch. Rory Haldane was out to it. Sleeping deep.

  Her features were relaxed; so sweet, he thought, studying the dark sweep of her lashes and soft, pale cheeks. Jack felt something deep in his chest as he looked down at her. She put on a belligerent, I-don’t-give-a-shit front, but right now she looked vulnerable and about fifteen years old.

  “What forced you inside here?” he whispered. “And why do I care?”

  Regaining his feet, he shut the door. For some reason he needed time before he woke her. Time for what? Women didn’t get to Jack, and especially not women with attitude like Princess Haldane.

  “Get a grip,” he muttered, walking out the room and down the hall to the living area. The house held less clutter than it used to, so his kneecaps weren’t in imminent danger from the edge of something as he made for the fire and lit it. Regaining his feet, he drew open the curtains and looked at the scene spread before him.

  The land was good, but there was more here. He loved the dips and valleys and mature trees. Loved the backdrop of the mountains.

  Turning away, he made for the kitchen and put on the coffee.

  While he heated the water he looked around the space. Outdated now, the cupboards and benchtops needed to be ripped out and replaced. But Jack guessed in its day it would have been nice. The entire place had good bones, and with some love would be so again one day. Would Rory do that?

  A piece of paper caught his eye. Beside it was a large rock.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  He was guessing the angry words on the paper had been wrapped around the rock when it came through that window. The words were nasty and made his blood boil. No wonder she’d hidden in the closet.

  Why didn’t you call me?

  Jack could have been here in minutes if she was scared. The thought of Rory huddling, afraid, in the closet made him his chest hurt, telling him she had become important in his life.

  Looking at the ceiling that needed a new coat of paint, he wondered again why it had to be Rory Haldane who stirred emotion inside him he’d never felt before. When she’d fallen yesterday he’d known fear; when he’d seen her in the stables he’d felt elation.

  “Deep breaths, Jack.” He took a few minutes, and when he felt steadier, he made two coffees, both with sugar. He then found a plate of leftover cake from the knitting club and took it and the mugs back to the bedroom.

  Lowering the coffees to the floor, Jack opened the closet. Dropping to his knees again, he ran a finger down her cheek.

  “Hey, Princess.”

  Her eyes sprang open.

  “It’s okay, it’s me, Jack.”

  She blinked several times, and then tried to focus on him.

  “Morning.”

  “Jack?”

  “The very one.”

  “Wh-why are you in my....” She looked around her.

  “Closet?”

  She nodded, then looked at her legs to where the cat now sat. His eyes were focused on Jack.

  “I brought your
father’s briefcase back. I think the better question is why are you in here?”

  “I didn’t want Phil to run away, so I locked us both in here.”

  She was quick, he’d give her that.

  “Phil?”

  “I thought it suited him.”

  “All the doors and windows are shut. Where was he running to?”

  “He’s injured and needs to stay still.”

  It was a skill to lie looking innocent, but she had it.

  “You taking Phil on then?”

  “No, I didn’t know what to do with him yet. I’ll take him to the vet clinic today. They’ll know if anyone is missing a pet.”

  “Or you could keep him if no one claims him?”

  “No, I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”

  Jack shrugged. “Cats travel.”

  “He may already have a home.”

  As if he knew he was the topic of discussion, the cat stretched and limped forward to sit in front of Rory and stare at her.

  Nice work, buddy.

  “Why are you here, Jack?”

  “I explained why. Here.” He handed her a mug of coffee after she’d struggled into a sitting position, her back now resting against the closet wall.

  “When was the window broken?”

  Her hands jerked, but she managed not to spill the liquid on the cat, who’d climbed into her lap.

  “What?”

  “The window. How’d it break?” Jack wasn’t sure why he didn’t just say he knew how it was broken, but some small devil inside him wanted to see if she’d tell him the truth.

  Her eyes shot left and right, but as she was in a closet there wasn’t much of a view.

  “I, ah, slipped and ah... a piece of wood I was carrying went through it.”

  “Wow, it’s amazing you weren’t hurt. What were you doing with a piece of wood inside?”

  “Just propping something up, and as you can see it cost me. Like I said, it’s nothing.”

  “That note certainly looked like something.”

  “Note?”

  She frowned, which fueled his anger.

  “Don’t treat me like a fool. I read it in the kitchen, and I saw the rock that accompanied it.”

  “You read my note?”

  “It made light reading while the water was heating.”

  He let the silence settle around them. Dylan had told him that sometimes to get information you needed to let the person you wanted to get it from sweat a little.

  Her hands were clenched hard around the mug now. Jack picked up a wedge of cake and ate it slowly. He wasn’t hungry and the acid in his gut was churning, but he made himself do it because his hands itched to grab her and haul her into his arms.

  Who could have written that note and performed such a callous act of vandalism?

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Her nose wrinkled.

  “Why would I call you?”

  “Because someone threatened you and could have followed that threat up by entering your house.”

  “It happened while I was sleeping. I woke, they’d gone, no big deal. We both know some townsfolk aren’t happy I’m here.”

  “It’s a huge deal,” he gritted out. “Angry people can say stuff, but they don’t do this kind of thing. That’s a crime, Princess. You need to contact Chief Blake.”

  “No, I don’t want that. It’ll stop.”

  “I’ll contact him then.”

  “I’ll deny it.”

  Frustrated, Jack blew out a breath. “I thought most of Ryker were all good with you now.”

  “No, they aren’t. The ones being polite are friends of yours or the others.”

  “Which others?”

  “The Robbins sisters, or Mr. Goldhirsh.”

  “The people of Ryker Falls are not puppets who simply follow others. They will have made up their minds about you all by themselves.”

  She looked down into her mug.

  “My father hurt a lot of people.”

  “He did, but you didn’t.” Jack took another bite of cake to buy himself some time to calm down.

  “That’s my cake,” she added.

  “Technically, it’s the knitting club’s, and as I was there too it’s mine.”

  “Your waistline.” She shrugged.

  “Yes, it is. Now we need to discuss that note and the rock it came through your window on, Princess. Whoever did that is angry, and there’s no saying what they’ll do next. The tires, and now this.”

  She looked at the cat.

  “Only those two things have happened, right?”

  “This conversation is over.” She eased the cat off her legs and got to her feet to leave the closet. He wasn’t having it. She needed to understand the trouble she was in, and he would make her see the truth.

  “Talk to me.” Jack grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. “You could be in danger.”

  “It’s just someone trying to scare me. When they see I’m not leaving, they’ll back away. I told them as much last night.”

  “Tell me you didn’t open the door and go outside?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you, but it would be lying, and my mom hated it when we did that.”

  “Are you crazy!” Jack felt his body go cold at the prospect of her alone with a maniac. All the calm he’d battled to regain, fled.

  “Probably.”

  “Whoever was out there could have hurt you!”

  “Stop yelling at me.”

  “Then show some sense!”

  “I’m sensible!”

  “This is you being sensible, is it? Sleeping in a closet to keep yourself safe?”

  Her head was thrown back now, eyes glaring up at him. He had two options open to him at that moment; he chose option number two.

  The kiss wasn’t savage but it was a close thing. Her hands grabbed his head, fingers digging into his scalp as she rose to her toes to get better access. Happy to help, Jack wrapped an arm around her and held her close. Only when he needed to breathe did he ease back.

  “Jack?”

  “Princess, you have such a sweet mouth,” he rasped, letting his eyes trace her swollen, abused bottom lip. Then he was kissing her again. Softer this time, now the urgency had eased. Whisper soft, and Jack knew from the first brush it was a mistake.

  Where their encounter the other night had been slaking a lust that had consumed them both, this was deeper and left him reeling. Moving a hand around her back, he found the bottom of her shirt and slid his hand beneath.

  He explored her warm, smooth back, running his fingers down each vertebra to reach the waistband of her PJs. Easing beneath, he explored further and was soon cupping the swell of a sweetly rounded buttock.

  Sinking his free hand into her curls, he tilted her head at just the right angle to take the kiss even deeper, if that were possible. His head was soon filled with her, and his body hard with wanting more. The woman robbed his sanity, and that chilling thought had him pulling back.

  “Jack?”

  Her eyes were half open, lips wet. She wanted him just as he wanted her, and she looked so hot he made himself grab her arms and ease her away from his body.

  “We can’t do this again, it’s a really bad idea.” His voice was a rasp and he was fiercely aroused, but one thing he realized with painful clarity, looking into her sultry blue eyes, was that his feelings for this woman scared him spitless. Jack usually stood and faced whatever lay before him, but this time all he could think about was running and not looking back.

  “I-I….” She closed her eyes, and when they opened Rory was back. The cool depths were composed, and if he read them right, pissed off. “You are 100 percent correct. Thank you for being the one to see reason. Good bye, Jack.”

  She pushed his chest, hard, sending him backward and onto his ass once again.

  “Please leave my house.” The words were issued as she ran from the room.

  “Rory, wait!” Jack scrambled to his feet and followed, but it was t
oo late; she’d shut and locked the bathroom door behind her.

  Chapter 24

  The glazier arrived without her making a call, the same day Jack had kissed her senseless again, then told her another bout of lovemaking was a bad idea.

  He’d been right and had she been thinking with any clarity she would have said the same thing. But she hadn’t. What she’d been thinking was how good it felt to be that close to him. How good he made her feel.

  Hell, she was in trouble.

  He’d done the right thing, she told herself again. Why then was she so… what? Hurt? Angry?

  “You, Rory Haldane, are a complex person,” she muttered. Seriously, hadn’t she wanted to stay away from him? The answer was yes, so why then was Jack Trainer consuming her thoughts?

  Making a cup of tea midmorning, she finally had time to go through her father’s briefcase. She needed contact the vet about the Phil, but Rory wanted to do this first. Opening it on her lap, she inhaled deeply, and smelled him. The last person to touch the contents was Jackson Haldane. Her flamboyant father.

  She found a few bills, pens, and two books. The first she opened; it was his appointment diary. Her father had been a neat, precise, if slightly neurotic man. Flicking through it, she read a few entries randomly. The Lakeside Hotel came up twice. Going thought the next few months, she found the same entry every three weeks. Next to it was always a heart in red.

  “Weird.”

  She could never remember her parents visiting a hotel.

  Putting the book down, she picked up another ledger. This one detailed his finances. He’d become skilled on a computer when they became impossible to ignore, and yet still he’d written everything by hand as well.

  “I don’t trust those computers, Aurora May,” he’d once said to her. “Write everything down.”

  Withdrawals and deposits. Each tallied in the columns by hand.

  “Oh, Dad.” Rory smiled. He’d been a stickler for keeping records.

  Running her finger down the list, Rory found an entry that shocked her. Right there in black ink were the words child support. Turning the page, she read the book slowly and right to the end, and saw the same entry every month.

  Child support. What the hell did that mean? Shoving all the papers back inside, she slammed the lid and dropped the case to the floor as if it had suddenly burst into flames.