by Brant, Kylie
“We were doing a concert in Tucson. It was a full house, and the energy was high. Security wasn’t as tight as it should have been, and I think there was a lot of drinking going on in the crowd.” She sighed, as if the retelling in itself was tiring. “One young cowboy jumped up on the stage and started waltzing me around.” The memory was sharp, as clear as if it had happened yesterday.
“About the time security would have reached us, he swept me up and passed me down to someone in the crowd. It’s called crowd surfing. I was handed around over the heads of the high-spirited concertgoers.”
His face went taut and still. “They were all touching you.”
She gave a shaky breath. “It sounds juvenile, I know, but by the time security rescued me I couldn’t go on with the concert. I spent the rest of the night huddled in my dressing room, a basket case, because some unruly young men got tanked up enough to be overly brave. It was just a prank to them, but to me . . .” Her voice tapered off.
“That was when I faced reality. I’d been fooling myself into thinking I could be a normal person, that I could chase my rainbow just like anyone else. Something like that was bound to happen sooner or later, and it was just the final straw.” She looked at Trey then, pain easily apparent in her eyes. “I’m not normal, and I never will be. Granny always told me these visions were a gift, but at that point they felt like a curse to me. They represented the reason for everything I thought I’d lost— my mother’s love, my music career.” She stopped, biting her lip. Granny hadn’t seemed surprised to find her back in the valley to stay. It was in the weeks to follow that Jaida realized Granny had known the outcome of her short-lived career all along. In her wisdom, she’d let Jaida discover it for herself.
Trey’s jaw tightened. He damned himself for pushing her about this. If she’d looked delicate before, now she appeared positively fragile. Her eyes were huge and haunted, and more than anything he wanted to remove that look from them. He didn’t move. He didn’t have the right to comfort her, any more than he’d had the right to push her. But still, he found himself trying.
“You’re normal in all the ways that count, Jaida.” His voice was rough. “You give of yourself at great personal cost. There aren’t many who can claim the same.”
She gave a slight smile. “I’ve long since come to terms with what it means to have my gifts, Trey,” she said simply. “But I can never live the way most people take for granted. I avoid crowds, and I live where I can pretty much control the number of strangers I come into contact with. I worked out a compromise with our manager. He wasn’t happy—he still isn’t—but we’ve settled things pretty well. Pure Jade still has the first option on all the songs I write, and at recording time I join them in the studio. It’s not what I’d once hoped for, but it’s enough.”
“Is it enough, Jaida?” His voice was so low it was almost soundless. Though he moved no nearer, he seemed to fill her vision. “In all the time since, you’ve never wanted more?”
She let out a shaky breath. She could tell him what she knew firsthand about wanting more. Most of it she’d learned since meeting him. But wishing something didn’t make the reality go away. And Trey Garrison was at the top of the list of things she shouldn’t let herself wish for.
Pining for the moon, Granny would call it. And her feelings for Trey were just as out of reach. She had no doubt that physically she could have him, for a very short time. But emotionally, he was as unattainable as that lunar globe in the night sky.
“I’ve learned not to want what I can’t have.”
“Then you’ve learned more than the rest of us.” His breath was on her neck, yet he didn’t touch her. “Most of us can’t keep ourselves from . . . wanting.”
The word reverberated in her ear, and she shivered at his meaning. No doubt if she were to verbalize exactly what it was she wanted, he would respond with a total withdrawal. She remained silent. Whatever happened between her and Trey, she would never burden him with her feelings. She knew too well that he carried around a load of guilt too heavy for most people to bear. She refused to add to it.
She swayed a little on her feet, the events of the day catching up with her. His hands came up to cup her narrow shoulders, and she gasped at the now-familiar shock.
“Jaida.” His voice was insistent in her ear. He turned her around. “Today . . . at the park . . .” He frowned fiercely. “I never considered how difficult it would be for you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she assured him quietly.
“It damn well does matter,” he declared tersely. “It should have occurred to me before. I can’t imagine that walking around the park with six or seven thousand people was a picnic.”
She smiled wearily. “It does take a lot out of me.”
“Then let’s get you ready for bed now,” he said. He gave her a little push toward the bathroom.
“You’re right. I’m going to need quite a bit of sleep to get ready to try again tomorrow.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, dammit!” Trey’s face was thunderous. “You look dead on your feet and you’re pale as a ghost. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t use every avenue open to me to find Benjy, but that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about you, too.” He stopped then, and his jaw clenched.
“It’s not your fault,” she said quietly. She was touched at his expression of concern, but unwilling to allow him to add her to the burden of guilt he seemed determined to build for himself. “This is my choice, my responsibility.” She smiled slightly. “It’s a small enough price to pay if we can find Benjy, isn’t it?” Turning away, she picked up her overnight bag and went into the bathroom.
Trey was left staring at the closed door. Regardless of her brave words, she’d almost staggered with exhaustion as she’d crossed the room. And yet, she was also right. Knowing what it cost her physically, would he be willing to give up on the slim lead her presence in the park afforded him? The answer was irrefutable. Benjy’s welfare came first with him, but that didn’t mean he was completely oblivious to what he was putting her through. The knowledge that she had insisted on being part of this was only partially mollifying.
The fact that he was concerned about her didn’t alarm him. Although at times she seemed to think otherwise, he was capable of some of the gentler emotions. Compassion and gratitude, to name a couple. But it wasn’t those feelings that had him twisted up inside right now. It was his desire to shield her . . . to protect her.
That scared the hell out of him.
He wheeled around from his post at her door and paced across the plush carpet. Jaida West didn’t need protection, and if she did, he wasn’t the man to provide it for her. It was in his nature to want to protect his family, his friends. Jaida was neither. So why this concern about what the case was doing to her? Why these feelings of guilt for knowing that at the same time she was useful to him, she was also driving herself to exhaustion or possibly worse?
When Jaida reopened the bathroom door, the bed had been turned down invitingly. Her eyes moved to the man sitting in a chair by it, watching her broodingly. Her steps almost faltered at the fierce expression on his face. She glanced at him warily, wondering what he was thinking. “I . . . guess I’ll go to sleep now,” she said tentatively, not understanding what was keeping him in the room.
She slipped into the bed and was startled to have him rise and pull the sheet over her. Her eyes went wide and questioning. “I’m not an invalid,” she said. Her words came out soft, and comforting rather than chiding.
“I know.”
They shared another long look, then he snapped off the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. She could still see his shape, darkness against shadows as he returned to the chair he’d occupied earlier.
“I thought . . . don’t you have a room?”
“I’ll just stay until you sleep. Go to sleep, Jaida.” His command was uttered almost soundlessly.
Sleep with him in the room? she asked herself a little wildly. Somehow s
he didn’t believe that was going to be possible. She was too conscious of him. But his presence was comforting. Her body fought with her for the sleep it craved, and she gradually began to lose the battle.
Jaida’s breathing had eased to a slow, even rhythm long before Trey stirred from the chair. His own room seemed cold and sterile in comparison with this one, the one where she lay sleeping. But his body was demanding the same kind of peace, a few blessed hours of unconsciousness before awaking to begin the search again. He stared through the darkness a while longer. Then he rose and silently made his way to her bedside.
She’d worked one smooth shoulder free of the covers. He gently drew them back over her. His mind ordered him back to his room. His feet didn’t move.
He should have considered how traumatic the day in the huge theme park would be for her. Given her past, he wouldn’t have blamed her for punching out anyone who suggested she put herself through that. And yet she’d willingly undergone the experience, and would do so again tomorrow. The woman must lack even the most basic sense of self-preservation to volunteer to use her ability to help others.
Without conscious decision, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His shoes and socks were similarly disposed of, and his hand went to his jeans, then hesitated. Leaving them on, he padded around to the other side of the bed and slowly, gently, lowered himself down beside Jaida.
Chapter 11
In the morning, the indentation on the pillow next to Jaida was mute testament to Trey’s presence in her bed. She stared uncomprehendingly at it, her sleep-sodden mind taking long minutes to interpret its significance. He had slept beside her all night. The knowledge that he’d lain there, like a guardian angel come to rest, sent an unfamiliar skitter down her spine. Why had he thought it necessary to keep vigil over her?
She suspected she knew the answer to that. If she’d learned nothing else about the man, it was that he had a strong sense of responsibility. He’d been appalled last night after hearing her matter-of-factly relay the physical reactions she suffered in a crowd of people. It wouldn’t take much of a leap for him to feel guilty for what she’d undergone for Benjy’s sake.
But regardless of his motivation, her heart refused to slow to its usual steady rhythm. She wasn’t used to sharing a bed with a man, any man. And the thought of how close he had been to her during the long hours of the night was enough to keep her cheeks flushed all through the time it took her to shower and change her clothes.
When she’d finished getting ready, Trey still hadn’t made an appearance. Taking a deep breath, she knocked at the adjoining door, and obeyed his low command to enter. He was on the phone.
Slow heat suffused her. He wore only a pair of wheat-colored jeans, and his attire, once completed, would be the most casual she’d yet seen him in. But it was what he wasn’t wearing that had her gaze helplessly welded to him.
He was shirtless and barefoot. She’d seen him thus only one other time, in the cabin they’d shared, and the memory had haunted her. His shoulders and chest were roped with sculpted muscles. He wasn’t bulky like a weight lifter, but his sinewy strength was well-defined by the ripples beneath his skin. His would be the kind of coordinated strength that would allow him to move quickly, quietly, eliminating all obstacles in his path with ruthless precision.
The thought of that powerful body sleeping beside her all night made her throat go completely dry. The idea of lying beside him while she was awake was erotic enough to rob her lungs of breath completely. And then he looked across the room at her, his forest-green eyes alight with awareness, as if he’d divined her thoughts and returned them with blatant interest.
For one charged moment the rest of the world faded away. Trey’s gaze licked down her body and back up, bathing her with heat. Her own eyes wandered over him, and remained at his waist, fascinated by the growing ridge behind his zipper.
Knowing she was responsible for his very physical reaction was at once intoxicating and terrifying. With a gasp, she jerked around and made her way to the table, where breakfast awaited. She carefully kept her back to him as she feigned an appetite that had suddenly vanished. The one-sided conversation behind her resumed, Trey’s voice sounding harsher than normal.
The food was no more than lukewarm when he finally hung up the phone and joined her at the table.
“You were talking to Mac?”
He stared at her, his expression shuttered. She was taking great pains not to focus on him, pretending a normalcy he was far from feeling himself. He’d awakened in a state of semi- arousal from a night spent beside her. A night spent immersed in the scent of her hair, only inches away from her silky bod. As torturous as the time had been, he knew he’d feel compelled to do it again. There was something about the woman that made him feel . . . protective.
His brows came together at the completion of the thought. Guarding his emotions was a way of life for him, but somehow the woman beside him had slipped beneath his defenses. He’d never had a noble instinct in his life. A noble man would feet gratitude for the help she was giving to his family, the help that came at such a high physical cost. A noble man certainly wouldn’t be considering taking advantage of her shy fascination with his body.
He stabbed at his cold waffle with more force than necessary and answered her belatedly. “I’ve been on the phone for a while. And considering the time difference, I guess it isn’t any wonder that no one was particularly pleased to hear from me.”
She did look at him then. “Anything new?”
“Lauren has been given a clean bill of health by her doctor. At least,” he corrected himself, “she’s been told she can travel.”
“She’s coming here?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s going somewhere safe. Mac has a place all picked out, and he’ll be moving her soon. Today, I hope.”
“I don’t understand,” Jaida said slowly. “Her house . . . the estate her house is located on is about the most secure place I’ve ever seen.”
“It is secure,” he answered grimly. “But its location may no longer be secret. If we’re right believing that Benjy’s wasn’t a random kidnapping, then we have to consider that someone was watching Lauren, waiting for her to leave the confines of her boss’s estate. I’ve gone to great lengths to make sure that Penning has never found out where she’s been living. I can’t take the chance of leaving her there when it’s obvious someone discovered her whereabouts. Not until I know the identity of the kidnappers.”
“You still haven’t ruled out Penning?”
Her even voice didn’t fool him in the least. He chose his words carefully. “I know you’re sure he isn’t involved.”
“He isn’t.” The brief mental foray she’d made into the morass of Penning’s mind had been vile and revolting. And very revealing. She wasn’t wrong about him; she was certain.
“I talked to the detective in charge of Benjy’s case in L.A., and to one of the agents who’s been assigned to Penning. There’s still no sign that he’s altered his routine at all.” He gave a short laugh devoid of amusement. “The son of a bitch is actually planning a vacation with his parents when they return in a few days. They’ve got a place on the Cape.”
“I’m sure the agents have checked out the beach house, as well.”
He quit pretending to eat and studied her. “Yes,” he stated deliberately. “It’s empty.” It took him only a few moments to divine the direction of her thoughts. When she would have pushed away from the table, he quickly caught her wrist. He watched her shiver at the sudden renewal of current that leaped beneath his touch. “That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you, Jaida.”
“Why don’t you tell me what it does mean, Trey?”
His fingers tightened around her wrist when she would have slipped away from him. “I know you’re certain Penning isn’t involved, but he’s still the most likely suspect.” His voice grew harsh when she looked away from him. “Think about it. No one has tried harder than he has to
find Lauren’s whereabouts. He’d do anything for that information. Even if you’re right, and I hope to God you are, and Penning knows nothing about Benjy, how can we be sure that whoever snatched the boy doesn’t know Lauren’s history? I can’t take the chance that her location could be leaked somehow to her ex-husband, no matter what the odds are of that happening.” She turned to look at him and he leaned closer, his intensity scoring his next words. “I’ve already lost my nephew. I won’t risk my sister.”
Jaida stared into his eyes, and recognized the light of determination shining there. The tension seeped from her limbs. No one knew better than she did the load of guilt and responsibility this man carried. He had said he believed her instincts about William, and his words filled her with warmth. But he was a careful man, who mapped his strategy with methodical precision. He wasn’t one to take risks, not with the lives of those he loved. “Until we find the kidnappers, we’ll never know for certain, will we? And Lauren will have to continue to hide until you can assure her safety.”
Her words echoed his thoughts. No, not his thoughts exactly, because the fear that drove him wasn’t so clearly formulated. Rather, it hovered in the recesses of his mind, haunting his every conscious hour. She could have been making an accurate guess, but he knew better than that. He released her wrist suddenly.
She still surveyed him, a wistful half smile on her lips. The wrist he’d held crept up to her chest, and she covered it with her other hand, trapping the heat from his touch. “Lauren and her son deserve a life free from that kind of fear,” she whispered. His gaze met hers, held.
“Let’s go find Benjy.”
The day was gorgeous, with sunny skies and balmy temperatures. It was also a record-setting day for park attendance. Music was blasting from dozens of places. Characters dressed in period costumes strolled among the crowds. The White Knight and the Dark Knight, hero and villain of the park, patrolled the area on horseback, shouting challenges at each other.