by J. R. Ward
“I can’t believe you’re acting this way,” he said gruffly.
“Excuse me?” Her expression was of total surprise.
She was a hell of an actress.
“You and that…Swift man.” He had another word he’d rather have used. Quite a few of them, actually.
“What are you talking about?”
“You women,” he derided, tossing the drink back and putting the glass down with a crack. He turned around. “You’re all the same.”
He watched as her anger grew. Her cheeks got a lovely brush of red across them and her mouth parted. He became consumed with the need to stroke her bottom lip with his tongue.
“Thank God that’s not true,” she huffed. “That blonde in there and I have nothing in common.”
“No? She’s had affairs with married men, too.” Carter’s expression of disbelief was so close to genuine, he laughed out loud. “Although I don’t recall she’s ever had the temerity to screw someone in front of his daughter.”
“You think Buddy and I—”
“You’re actually going to deny it?”
She shook her head with admirable conviction. “Where the hell did you get the idea we were—”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he bit out sharply. “I suppose people who grope under the dinner table are just trading napkins.”
“What? I— He…Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. And don’t roll your eyes at me like it was nothing.”
“I’ll go one even further,” Carter said, heading for the door and opening it. “I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened.”
“Can’t handle someone calling you on your actions?”
She wheeled around, her luxurious black hair swinging across her shoulders. Her face was flush with indignant rage, her eyes sparkling with hostility.
God, he wanted her.
“You are hardly one to talk,” she bit out.
“I’m not complicit in adultery.”
Carter marched back toward him. “Considering how you kissed me the other night, you might want to drop the holier-than-thou act. You’re no poster child for monogamy.”
“You kissed me first.”
A hiss sounded from behind them. They turned and looked in the direction it came from.
Cort stood aghast in the doorway of the study. He turned and looked at Nick with a combination of rage and pain.
“You kissed her?”
“Now, hold on a minute…” Nick raised a hand.
“I can’t believe you,” Cort spat. “Do you have to take everything away from me?”
In a flash, he tore off down the hall.
As Nick rushed out of the study and watched Cort run upstairs, he realized the kid must have a crush on Carter. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but that didn’t matter.
His vision receded to a pinpoint of light as irrational anger went through him.
In a rage, he turned on Carter, who’d followed him out into the hall. “I don’t care what you do to that other family but I’m not going to let you ruin mine.”
“What?” she asked, astounded.
“Stay the hell away from Cort,” Nick growled. “If you want fun and games, pick on someone your own size. I can take it. He can’t.”
Carter stuttered in disbelief and then blurted out, “Are you out of your mind? I never intended for him—”
“What the hell did you think was going to happen?” Nick’s eyes narrowed on her. “Dancing around in those damn shorts, flashing your legs, wearing those godforsaken little T-shirts. He’s too young to know the difference between attraction and love, although you’ve just taught him a damn good lesson. What else were you planning on teaching him?”
Carter’s pupils dilated. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face. His cheek stung as blood rushed to the skin.
“How dare you?” she snapped. “He’s just a boy.”
“Yeah, and thanks to you, he’s taken one more step out of childhood. He’s had his heart broken.”
Nick was headed for the stairs, intent on finding his nephew, when she called out indignantly, “Assume what you will about my partner but I never encouraged Cort.”
He wheeled around. “I don’t think you know how not to attract men. Magnetic north draws the compass arrow. It’s a goddamn fact of nature.”
His eyes roamed over her body, and he didn’t bother to hide his lust for her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“So is that the kind of woman you are?” Nick laughed harshly. “It’s all kicks and giggles until someone takes you up on your offer?”
“I’m not offering you a thing.”
“That wasn’t what it felt like the other night. I could have taken you, right then and there.”
Her eyes narrowed with derision. “You vastly overestimate your appeal.”
Nick moved so fast, she didn’t have time to run away from him. Grabbing her hard around the waist, he dragged her against him and put his lips on hers in a blaze of frustration and hunger. She fought against him, struggling in his arms, until suddenly she opened her mouth and let him in, kissing him back with equal fury. With a groan of need rising from his throat, he buried his hands deeply in her hair and pressed her back against the wall. Her body was all delicious curves, and he moved himself against her, driven to be inside of her.
With disordered thoughts, he began to plot how they could make it into his study with their bodies still entwined. Behind his closed door, they could shed their clothes and fall onto his couch. He could cover her bare skin with his mouth, delve into her softest parts, make her moan under him.
And he would make her moan, he vowed. Until she forgot everything but him. Everyone but him.
“Let’s get out of the hall,” he said roughly, against her neck. “We can’t do this here.”
He felt her stiffen and then her hands pushed hard against his shoulders.
“Stop it,” she told him breathlessly. “Stop this now.”
He pulled away with grave reluctance.
When she finally spoke, her voice was dead.
“As long as you can kiss me like that with your woman in the next room, don’t you ever talk to me of fidelity again.”
She took off in a hurry, fleeing from him. From his house. From his fantasy of how the evening should have ended.
Nick swore out loud, planting his fist into the wall with a thunderous noise.
7
THE NEXT morning, Carter woke up to the smell of pancakes and coffee. Fumbling out of her tent, she took in with gratitude the sight of Buddy working a pan over the hot plate. After a night spent with an empty stomach and a head bloated by images that made her cringe, a big breakfast was just what she needed to start the day.
She shrugged her Windbreaker on and went over to the mess tent. “You’re a saint—you know that?”
“Might as well make myself useful,” he grumbled. “No sense trying to sleep.”
“Tough night on the ground?” Carter helped herself to some coffee. As she poured, steam rose up from the mug into the cool air.
“You didn’t hear that racket?”
She shook her head, taking a test sip. It was good and strong.
“Some ridiculous woodpecker was drilling for oil in the bedrock. Damn thing went on forever until I threatened to have him taxidermied and mounted on a wall.”
“I must be getting used to him by now.”
Ellie appeared, and Buddy put three plates of pancakes on the table. “Eat up, folks. It’s not as fancy as what we had last night, but the company’s bound to be more palatable.”
“Dinner was weird,” the girl said as they sat down. “No one’s very happy in that house. They didn’t seem to like each other. Or us.”
Carter’s and Buddy’s eyes met across the table.
“We don’t have to go there again,” her father said.
“Whatever.”
They finished the res
t of the meal in silence. While they were cleaning up, Buddy asked, “So what did Farrell want with you last night?”
Carter shot for a breezy reply and hoped he bought it. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, something. Sort of. Not really.”
She shook her head, thinking she really should keep to one-word responses when it came to Nick Farrell.
“He’s not pulling the plug on us, is he?”
“I don’t think so.” But anxiety pegged her in the chest.
She hadn’t considered the possibility he might kick them off the mountain. She’d been too busy thinking about how things had gone from her slapping the man in the face to…what had happened after that. All night long, she’d stared up at the nylon roof over her head, trying to sort it all out. Nothing was much clearer when the sun had finally come up, and now she had something else to worry about. What if all the fighting between them endangered the dig?
“So what did you talk about?” Buddy prompted, his eyes curious behind his glasses. “The guy must have had something serious on his mind. He was looking bound and determined when you two left.”
“It was nothing important.” She looked over at Ellie. “You ready to get to work?”
Carter knew Buddy wasn’t fooled, but she was grateful he let the subject drop as the three headed over to the site. When they stepped inside the circle of stones, she heard him let out a long whistle.
“I reread Farnsworth’s journal last night. For a sadist of the first order, he certainly had an eye for accurate description. Man, if this isn’t the place, I don’t know what is.”
“I don’t think we need to do test pits. Do you?” Carter was referring to the practice of random digging that was used to determine where artifacts might be concentrated within a given area.
“Nah. After reading through the primary source last night, I’d bet my firstborn this is where it all happened.”
Ellie shot him a stern look. “One of these days you’re going to lose and I’m going to end up someone else’s daughter. Although now that I think about it…”
Buddy gave the girl’s ponytail an affectionate tug.
“Let’s fan out along the northern side and work our way south,” Carter suggested. Within ten minutes, they’d retrieved tools and buckets and positioned themselves at regular intervals in the grid, ready to work.
Getting down on her haunches, Carter sifted through layers of pine needles until she got to what passed for topsoil on the mountain. Taking her hand shovel, she pushed it into the ground. The familiar scent of dirt rose up into her nose, and she started ladling earth into the bucket she’d put beside her. As soon as it was full, she would take it outside the circle and sift the contents through the screen for fragments. She knew these regular interruptions in digging, when she could stand up and stretch, would be appreciated as the day wore on.
They worked steadily on their hands and knees as the sun rose higher in a clear sky, breaking only for water and a quick lunch. Over the course of the day, Ellie found a couple of arrowheads and Buddy dug up some old animal bones. As the hours passed, Carter kept hoping Cort would show up, but he didn’t.
Around three in the afternoon, she made up an excuse about needing something from her car and went down the mountain to find him. As she came out of the woods and walked through the meadow, she heard noises in the garage and followed the sounds of metallic clanking inside. Ivan was under Buddy’s Range Rover, tools fanned out around him. The man was groping in the general vicinity of a screwdriver.
“You need that Phillips head?” she asked.
The grunt could have meant anything so she put the tool in his hand and stepped back. She didn’t expect a thank-you and was surprised when the next snort sounded a little like one.
“I’m looking for Cort. You know where he is?”
After a resounding clunk, Ivan slid himself out from under the car. Oil was all over him, and his dark eyes were as sharp as one of the arrowheads Ellie had found on the mountain.
“Boy’s probably down at the boathouse.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey,” he called out as she turned away. “If anything bothers you up there, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”
Carter was surprised at the offer. “That’s nice of—”
“Been told I have to look after you,” he said and then slid back under the car.
She thanked the woodsman again and walked back into the sunshine, relieved to be out of his way. The fact that taking care of them didn’t seem to appeal to him wasn’t surprising. What interested her was that Nick had thought about their safety.
Then again, maybe he just didn’t want another party of people lost on his mountain.
Crossing the lawn and heading to the lake, she gave the mansion a wide berth, hoping not to run into any of its inhabitants. As she went past, it was hard to believe so much conflict resided inside such a peaceful-looking place. The home seemed like such a beautiful haven with its white siding gleaming in the sunshine, its porches full of inviting wicker chairs, its window boxes overflowing with flowers.
But then, Pandora’s box had looked great from the outside, too.
Down at the water’s edge, she stepped off the grass and onto the wooden dock that ran around the boathouse. As there were no immediate signs of Cort, she went inside. There were two boats tied in the slips. One was an antique wooden craft and next to it was a flashy ski boat. They were an incongruous pair, an opera singer tethered next to a rock star.
Still, Cort was nowhere to be found. She turned around to leave, resigned to checking at the mansion, when she heard a whistle that froze her in her tracks.
“It can’t be,” she murmured. But she heard it again and winced as memories came back to her. She saw her father as clearly as if he were standing before her, and the remnants of childhood joy burned in her chest.
Trains. Toy trains. They’d been a passion she’d shared with him.
As the whistle drifted down again, she noticed a narrow set of stairs in the back corner of the boathouse. When she reached the top of them, she saw that the whole second floor was devoted to a model train set. A model train kingdom, really. Stretching out on a raised platform that snaked through the room, the setup was one of the biggest she’d ever seen, rivaling even the one she and her father had put together so many years ago.
Cort was at the controls and, through the haze of her memories, she focused on him.
“This is quite an accomplishment.”
He looked up in surprise and flushed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to find you.”
Cort fingered the throttle, sending the red engine and its trail of boxcars cruising faster along the tracks. The sound of tiny wheels clicking filled the room.
“I was hoping you’d come up this morning. We’ve started digging.”
The train went speeding through the different regions of its world. The mining town, the mail stop, a grain filling station.
“I’m busy.” Cort was standing at stiff attention, which was at odds with his floppy clothes. His shorts were riding low on his hips and he was wearing an oversized University of Kentucky basketball jersey. She noticed his hair wasn’t as high or as spiky as it usually was.
In the tense pause that followed, the train disappeared under a mountain range and reappeared on the far side.
“Cort, I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings.”
The boy powered up the engine, making the clattering even louder. “It’s cool. Everything’s fine.”
“It doesn’t feel fine to me.”
He stayed silent.
“Cort—”
“I’m totally cool.” He brought the train to a halt in front of him. “Will you just go?”
“You have to understand—”
He cut her off in an angry rush.
“All I know is that I liked you and I wanted to be with you and my uncle got in the way.” He finally met her eyes. “And
why him? Why did it have to be him? God, I’m so tired of having everything be about him. He makes me stay up here all summer, won’t let me be with my friends, and then he takes you away, too.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t going anywhere with me, are you?” There was a wealth of bitterness in his voice.
“I’m too old for you.”
“But you’re just the right age for him?”
Carter took a deep breath. “I am not with your uncle.”
“But you kissed him.”
“Cort, I…” She shook her head in frustration. It was hard to find the right words about something she wasn’t too clear on herself.
“Doesn’t it bother you that he has a girlfriend?” His clear gray eyes, which were so like Nick’s, challenged her.
“This isn’t about your uncle. Someday, you’ll understand—”
“Spare me, okay? I get enough of that ‘when you grow up’ crap from him.”
“You just have a crush on me. It’s not—”
“How do you know what I’m feeling!” Cort’s hand slashed through the air with frustration. “Everyone’s always so busy telling me what I feel, what to do, where to go. For once, why can’t you people just accept me?”
Faced with his agitation, Carter wasn’t sure where the lines of helping and hurting were.
“How long have you known me?” she finally asked.
“A week,” he grumbled.
“Try five days, tops. Do you know what my favorite color is?”
“No, but why is that—”
“What about my religion?”
Frowning, he shrugged.
“How about where I come from, what my family’s like, whether I like sushi or Tex-Mex? Do you know whether I’m a neat freak or a slob?”
With a defiant look, he said, “I know you’re pretty and smart and have a good sense of humor. I know I like being with you. What else is there?”
Carter bit back a groan.
If only all men were so simple and clear with their affections.
“I’m flattered. I really am.” She cautiously walked over to him. “But I hate to break this to you—I’m no saint. You haven’t seen me when I’m cranky from stress, when I swear at other drivers behind the wheel, when I cry at old movies and Hallmark cards. You don’t know me when I’m angry or depressed. I’d like to tell you that believing I’m pretty and smart is enough but it’s not.”