He’d gotten what he’d come for. Now he should leave.
But just when Rob leaned forward in his seat to whisper to Frank that he was going, Ian appeared, sitting down at a table in the back of the room. Rob couldn’t leave then. He knew how vulnerable Jess felt when her ex-husband was around.
And so he stayed.
Jess’s set was a short one, and she was off the stage almost before Rob knew it. As he watched, she disappeared into the dressing room, and the lights came up slightly in the club.
Ian appeared at their table, like an unwelcome recurring nightmare. “Oh my goodness,” he said to Frank in his crisp English accent. “What lovely flowers. For me?”
Rob glanced at Frank in surprise. Flowers? He hadn’t noticed them before, but yes, Frank had a small bouquet of hothouse flowers resting on the table in front of him.
“No,” Frank said. “They’re not for you, Davis. They’re for Jess.”
“Ooh,” said Ian. “Smitten, are we? Frank, you devil, you. You know just the way to a lady’s heart, don’t you? What’s the occasion? Two week anniversary?”
Rob was staring at the flowers, only half hearing the conversation going on around him. Frank and Jess?
Rob stood up, his chair nearly toppling over in his haste to get away from the table. “Excuse me,” he murmured, and blindly pushed his way to the bar.
He had no right to feel jealous. He had no damned right to feel anything at all. But he did. He felt…angry. Betrayed. Duped.
Here he’d gone and made the ultimate sacrifice. He’d given up paradise to keep Jess from getting hurt.
Dammit, he’d loved her. He’d desperately, passionately loved her—heart and soul, but only once with his body. Only once had he allowed himself to express his love physically. Only once, because he believed that this powerful love he felt was something she experienced, too. And he couldn’t bear to lead her on and then leave her.
But—surprise! Apparently what Jess had felt for him was a little different. Apparently, she’d found him quite easy to replace.
He was numb. The Rose Café was crowded and hot, yet Rob felt flashes of cold.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the lean-faced bartender asked, his pale gray eyes seeming to look right into Rob’s soul. “The special tonight’s a strawberry margarita. It’s like a frozen daquiri, only with tequila instead of rum…”
Rob shook his head, turning away, pushing himself away from the bar. He had to get out of here.
And there was Jess. She was standing right in front of him, her guitar case in her hand. He’d inadvertently blocked her path.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly.
He should have moved away. He should have let her pass. But he didn’t move. “What’d ya do, invite Frank over for a little Chinese takeout?” he said, his voice sounding harsh to his own ears. Jess had to lean closer to hear him over the din of the crowd. “Did you invite him over for a little dinner and a game of Monopoly Junior? What’d ya do then, Jess, after Kelsey was asleep? Did you…” He used a word, an expression so crude, she jerked back a step, as if she’d been slapped.
“How dare you…” Her voice was no more than a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief and brimming with unshed tears.
“Frank probably didn’t know what hit him,” Rob said. “All this time, Ian was right about you, wasn’t he?”
“Is there a problem here?” the bartender’s voice cut in.
“No,” Jess said, holding her head high as she pushed past Rob and ran for the door.
Somehow she managed to hold it together until she reached the parking lot and unlocked her car. She pushed her guitar into the front seat next to her, and climbed in.
How could Rob say such a thing to her? How could he look at her that way, as if she were some horrible slug he’d found underneath a rock? How could his eyes look so cold, his face so cruel?
And then the tears came. She was barely able to see through the flood as she started the car.
How could she have been so wrong about him? The thought released another downpour. Jerkily, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the baby-sitter’s, wiping her eyes almost continuously on her arms in order to see.
Had she fallen in love with a person who didn’t exist? Had she mistaken this cold, angry, cruel, uncaring person for someone kind and gentle? Had she misinterpreted him, thinking he was a little shy and very thoughtful, when in reality his quietness was merely a mask for his hostility and anger? Rob had offered so little information about himself. Had she simply filled in all those missing blanks the way she’d wanted to, creating the perfect man, the one she’d dreamed about finding for so many years?
She began to cry harder, sobs welling up from deep inside her. She pulled over to the side of the road, took the car out of gear and wept.
It took many long minutes, but Jess finally got back in control. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she fished under the seat, looking for the box of tissues she knew was there. After she found it, she blew her nose noisily.
She turned on the interior light and glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and made a face. She wanted to stop at home and rinse her tear-streaked face with cool water before going to Doris’s to pick up Kelsey, but it was already late. Every moment she delayed picking up Kel was digging further into the money she’d earned tonight.
With a sigh, she stepped on the clutch, and to her horror, she heard a far too familiar pop. Her foot pushed all the way to the floor, with no resistance from the little pedal.
The clutch had gone out again.
She put her head down on the steering wheel, half surprised that she didn’t burst into tears. But of course she wasn’t going to cry. She didn’t have any tears left. She used them all up on Rob.
Lifting her head, Jess looked around, trying to figure out exactly where she was. She’d been driving on back roads, taking the quickest route to her neighborhood and Doris’s house. There were no open-all-night convenience stores on this street, no gas stations. A citrus grove extended out to her left for Lord knows how many acres. And the tiny houses that lined the right-hand side of the street were mostly all dark.
The one house that had its porch light on was about seven houses down, and as she watched, the light went out.
Maybe a police car will drive by, Jess thought, but instantly knew it was simply wishful thinking. She’d been sitting in that same spot for going on a half hour now, and in all that time, only one car had passed her. It had been only a few minutes ago, and she hadn’t thought to try to flag it down.
She was so tired, all she wanted was to climb into her bed and sleep for about three days straight. She rested her head on the steering wheel again—
The door to the car suddenly flew open, and before she had a chance to react, big hands grabbed her shoulders and yanked her out. One of the hands clamped down hard on her mouth, stifling her yelp of surprise and fear. She was pulled in, hard, to a very solid body, and she struggled, her fear mounting, but she couldn’t get free.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” a voice whispered angrily in her ear, and she froze.
The hands released her, and she spun around to face Rob.
Her heart was pounding. It was only Rob. Only Rob? In a flash, she remembered all of her doubts and suspicions. Why had he grabbed her that way, covering her mouth so that she couldn’t scream? What was he doing here? What did he want from her?
“Are you following me?” she asked.
“Don’t you know there’s someone who stalks this city, looking for defenseless women, ones who are stupid enough to be by themselves on a deserted street in the middle of the night?” he nearly spat at her. “I drove past and I couldn’t believe it. You were sitting there with the light on inside your car! Dammit, Jess, you might as well have had a neon sign with an arrow, saying Easy target. Kill me.”
His glasses had been knocked from his face in the scuffle, and he picked them up off the street and slipped them into his p
ocket.
“My car broke down,” she said coldly. “The clutch finally went out.”
She reached into the car and took her keys from the ignition, and her guitar from the passenger seat. She closed the car door and locked it carefully.
“Come on,” Rob said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“Go to hell,” she said. “I don’t want a ride from you.”
He laughed. “Oh, come on. What are you going to do? Walk?”
Jess didn’t answer. She began walking down the sidewalk, her shoulders stiffly set, her head high.
“Didn’t you hear anything that I said?” Rob’s voice rose with anger.
“I’m not afraid,” Jess said, not even bothering to turn around.
He moved quickly in front of her on the sidewalk, blocking her way. “You’re not afraid, huh?” he said. His handsome face was hard and stern.
He flicked his wrist, and suddenly he had a knife in his hand. The long blade glittered in the light from the one wan street lamp that was down on the corner.
He took one, then another menacing step towards her.
“Rob, don’t,” she said, backing away. Why was he doing this? Was he really angry enough to want to hurt her?
“Are you afraid yet?” he whispered.
Numbly, she nodded.
The knife hissed then, as the blade went back up into the handle. Rob flicked his wrist again, and it seemed to disappear, up his sleeve.
All her fear instantly transformed into anger. “You bastard,” she cried, swinging her guitar case directly at his groin. He moved quickly, protecting himself with his thigh, and catching the case in his hands.
Jess let go of her guitar and began running down the street. Her only wish was to be away from this man, far away from him. She couldn’t believe the stunt he’d just pulled—and at her expense.
Her breath sounded loud in her ears, and she glanced back at him. As she did, Rob’s hand reached out for the waistband of her jeans. She tried to evade him, but his fingers grabbed the fabric. He pulled her, and she went down, onto the lawn. For a moment, neither of them moved. She lay there, feeling his breath, hot against her face.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” Rob said softly. “I was trying to make a point, but I went too far.”
Jess exhaled. “Let go of me,” she said, her voice still and void of emotion. She twisted, so that she was lying face up, looking at him, too close to him.
Yet the weight of his body on hers brought back unbidden memories of the night they’d made love…
And Rob didn’t move. “I’m afraid if I let go of you,” he murmured in that same, gentle voice, “you’ll run away from me again.”
She looked up at him. His eyes were gentle, his face filled with sorrow and pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “Please let me drive you home. Because I’d die if anything happened to you.”
Jess caught her breath. This was Rob. Her Rob. The man she’d fallen in love with, the soul mate she’d given herself to.
She felt her body responding to his presence with a quickness that shocked her. Then with an even larger jolt of shock, she realized that he was responding to her nearness, too. She could feel his arousal hardening, lengthening, pressing down into her thigh. Still, he didn’t move.
“I didn’t sleep with Frank,” she said. Suddenly it was very important that she tell him this. “I haven’t been with anyone else in years,” she added, fighting the hot tears that burned her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t hear the way her voice shook.
Rob was silent as he looked down at her.
Jess met his gaze, her beautiful dark eyes shining with unshed tears. “Just so you know, I haven’t been with anyone besides you since my divorce,” she told him, her voice so soft he could barely hear her.
Rob closed his eyes as the full meaning of what she told him became clear. “But, why? Jess, you could have anyone you want.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” she replied.
I want you. She didn’t say it, but the unspoken words hovered in the air between them.
She took a deep breath. “There must be something really wrong with me,” she continued. “You made it as clear as you possibly can without explaining why—you don’t want me.”
A tear escaped from the corner of her eye, sliding down toward her ear.
“I’m sorry,” Rob whispered. “I wish I could explain…”
“I can’t seem to learn,” she said. “I can’t stop myself from wanting you. And tonight alone, you insult me and scare me half to death, and all I can think about right now is whether or not you’re going to kiss me. And whether or not you’re going to take me home and make love to me.”
She pressed herself up against him, and Rob inhaled sharply.
And then, God help him, he kissed her.
HE WAS A MACHINE.
It had been some time since he’d felt the need, but tonight it had suddenly sparked. Her eyes ruled his dreams, her lips, that smile, her long, delicate neck…
Yes, he was a machine.
It was late, but he knew where the clubs stayed open until nearly dawn.
It was worth the drive, because as he stepped through the main entrance into the dim, unnatural coolness, as the throbbing, pulsing music surrounded him, he was certain he would find her here.
She’d have short, dark hair, and a long, lovely neck. He smiled as he thought about her neck, and how he would touch it, kiss it. And drive his knife deeply into it.
Chapter Eleven
Doris smiled knowingly as Jess arrived in her rental car to pick Kelsey up at nine-thirty the next morning. But like last night, when Jess called her to ask if her daughter could sleep over, her friend only asked one question: “Honey, you sure you know what you’re doing?”
No. Jess was not sure.
She’d woken up some time around 1:00 a.m. to find Rob gone from her bed. He’d left a note, a scribbled apology. This wasn’t supposed to happen again, he’d written. He was sorry—he couldn’t seem to stay away from her. This constant wanting, needing, was driving him crazy.
He wasn’t the only one being driven crazy.
Last night had been wonderful. Incredible.
Last night had been proof that their first time hadn’t been just a fluke. The love they shared was powerful and more passionate than any Jess had ever known. He’d filled her completely—emotionally and spiritually as well as physically. Jess was an independent woman. She would and could live without Rob and be completely whole. But when they were together, she felt a satisfaction, a happiness she’d never had alone.
Yet that was exactly how she’d woken up.
Alone.
She returned home from driving Kelsey to school to find her answering machine message light flashing.
The first message was from the nursery school where she was supposed to give a music class this morning. The entire three-year-old class had chicken pox. Could they please reschedule?
Then Frank’s voice echoed out of the answering machine’s speaker. He sounded stilted. He was going out of town for a few days—up to Atlanta on business. He’d call when he returned. He hoped she was all right, and he was disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to see her last night.
The last message was from the garage where her car had been towed. The clutch had been repaired, but the mechanic had noticed that the brake pads were starting to go. Did she want those replaced, too?
The irony was too intense. Jess had rented a car to get to her gig at the nursery school. And now not only was the gig canceled, but her car was fixed and ready. Assuming, of course, that she didn’t want to drop another two million dollars to get the brake pads replaced.
Jess leaned forward, resting her head on her folded arms on the kitchen table. She could handle financial disaster if only her personal life wasn’t such a minefield.
Rob had made love to her so hungrily last night. Their joining had been wild. She liked it like that, though. She loved feeling so desperately needed, so pass
ionately desired. She loved watching calm, quiet Rob lose control.
And afterward, he held her so tenderly, almost reverently. She’d fallen asleep in his arms.
Just once, though, she’d like to wake up in Rob’s arms. Just once, she’d like to make love to him slowly in the early morning light.
The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts.
Maybe it was Rob. Maybe he’d come back from work to see her. Maybe…
Jess stood up and crossed to the front door. She started to unfasten the bolt when she realized that Rob wouldn’t use the front door. He’d come to the back, to the kitchen door.
She glanced out through the peep hole and her heart nearly stopped beating.
It was Pete.
Jess leaned back against the door, double-checking the locks. My God! What should she do? Call the police?
The doorbell rang again.
“Ms. Baxter,” Pete called out as if he knew she was right on the other side of the heavy wooden door. “May we have a word with you?”
We?
Jess peeked out through the peephole again. Yes, there were two other men standing slightly behind Pete. And Pete looked odd, and not just from the fish-eye effect of the peephole lens. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly combed. And he was wearing a business suit.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice low but clear. At least it wasn’t shaking, the way the rest of her was. Damn, but that first sight of him had scared her.
Pete lowered his own voice. “We’re FBI, ma’am. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
FBI?
Jess peered out of the peephole again, and sure enough, Pete was holding up some kind of shiny metal badge. She unlocked the door and opened it a crack.
“May I see that?
Pete nodded, handing her the badge in its worn leather wallet.
Federal Bureau of Investigation it said. There was a picture ID card, identifying Pete as FBI agent Parker Elliot. Grungy Pete the bartender was really FBI.
No Ordinary Man Page 13