“I assume you’ll announce the engagement,” J.J. said, starting for the car.
“That’s one option.”
“What’s the other?”
“I can tell the press the truth.”
J.J. stopped in her tracks. Oh, no! She caught his arm, staring at him in alarm. He tensed beneath her touch, but she scarcely noticed. “I’d rather you didn’t reveal Mathias’s part in all this.”
“Protecting your dear brother-in-law?”
She saw no point in denying it. “Yes. If people find out he routinely grants Christmas wishes, he’ll be inundated with requests. And when he’s unable to fulfill all of them, he’ll be vilified. After what’s happened with River, you should be able to sympathize with that.”
It was his turn to grasp her arm, wrapping powerful fingers around her wrist. He planted his other hand at the base of her spine and pulled her against him. His tension instantly communicated itself to her. Before she could do more than gasp a quick protest, he lowered his head so his mouth brushed her cheek.
“Sympathize, Ms. Randell? With Mathias Blackstone? I don’t think so.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The prince crept quietly through the underbrush, his sword drawn. The odor of dragon clung strongly to the ferns and trees and bushes—the few that hadn’t been scorched by the hot breath of the ferocious beast.
The prince had been coming to the forest for years, searching...always searching for the great dragon, Nemesis. This was the closest he’d ever come to finding the creature’s secret lair. He smiled in triumph. Finally he had the chance to succeed at his goal, a goal he’d committed his life to achieving—the death of the dragon who’d killed his family.
Page 17, The Great Dragon Hunt,
by Jack Rabbitt
“DON’T!” JJ. tried to pull free, but Raven refused to release her, constraining her with frightening ease.
“Be quiet and listen,” he ordered.
To an outsider they undoubtedly looked like a loving couple sharing an intimate embrace. But she knew differently. He held her this close to prevent River from overhearing, his comments for her ears alone.
He shifted his stance ever so slightly and J.J. felt every ripple and surge of the muscles ridging his shoulders and arms. To her horror, her response hit hard, an unexpected rush of sheer feminine need. Not now, please not now, she silently begged. It was a fruitless plea. Her fingers itched to explore, to unbutton his shirt and caress the warm flesh beneath. To rip his tie from its moorings and press her lips to the bronzed hollow at the base of his neck. To lift her face to his and take his mouth in a fierce, endless kiss, one that would mark him as hers—and hers alone.
His warm breath caressed her heated cheeks, playing across the tips of her lashes and the fullness of her mouth. But that didn’t bother her nearly as much as the way their hips locked together, fitting in perfect opposition. His thighs were taut against hers, causing a liquid warmth to quicken, running riot through every inch of her. She burned with it—the need to find completion with this man. She stirred in helpless agony, the air shuddering from her lungs.
“Say what you have to and let me go.” Please let go! Before she gave into the desire begging to be tasted. Before she lost what little self-control she still retained and took what she wanted most.
“Pay attention, fairy lady. I’m only going to say this once.”
Thank heavens! She bit back the words before they could escape, knowing they would only incite him—something he clearly didn’t need. “Go ahead and get it over with.”
“Don’t you dare ask me to sympathize with Blackstone. He spun this particular ball into play, which means he’ll just have to live with the consequences of his action.”
She braved his gaze, praying her response didn’t show in her eyes. Could he see? Could he tell how profoundly he affected her? “What about River? Will she have to live with the consequences, too?”
His eyes were so dark, so impassioned. She felt the tension building across his chest, saw it in the determined set of his jaw. For an instant his hand tightened on her wrist. But before she could even register the impact, he loosened his hold and his touch gentled. Muted power. Diamond-hard tenderness. A warrior with honor, wise enough to guard against his own vulnerability with as much vigilance as he guarded those beneath his protection.
“I won’t allow my daughter to be hurt by him.”
“Be careful that you aren’t so intent on getting even with Mathias that you don’t hurt her yourself,” she warned.
It was a direct hit. Hot color swept along the edges of his cheekbones and she could practically hear the growl of fury rumbling through his chest. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for him,” Raven informed her harshly.
“It was a wish,” she whispered. “Just a wish.”
“One he never should have offered.” Coldness encased his anger. “You’ve given me the perfect weapon for payback. Blackstone doesn’t want anyone to know about his antics? Tough. The instant I’m certain River won’t be harmed by his ‘generosity,’ he’s going down. Hard.”
With that he released her and stalked to the Mercedes. He opened the front passenger door. “Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time.”
She fought for composure, to conceal how badly he’d upset her. It wasn’t just what he’d said, but her reaction to him physically, as well. His body had imprinted on hers like a physical brand. That had been disastrous enough. But it was how he’d affected her emotionally that distressed her most of all. She’d always been so careful to protect herself. So careful to hold men at a distance, to avoid losing control. And in one easy move, Raven Sierra had stripped her of that ability.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the car and slid inside. The entire way to her hotel, she didn’t say a word. Once there, she packed the few extra garments and toiletries she’d purchased that morning and checked out. Since Raven and his daughter both accompanied her to the room, she didn’t try and phone Mathias again. Nor were there any messages waiting. That in particular shook her. Apparently she’d been left to her own devices, which meant remaining at the mercy of a man intent on protecting his child from harm—harm in the form of a woman bearing wishes.
It put her in a very precarious position.
Within the hour they’d picked up the lunch they’d missed and were headed away from the city, toward the mountains. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she finally asked, “So, where are we going?”
“As I told River, somewhere private.”
Men! “Could you be more specific?”
“I recently completed construction on a cabin. We’ll talk there.”
“We’re going to the mountains?” River questioned excitedly.
A cabin in the mountains? J.J. settled against the leather seat, relaxing slightly. That sounded interesting. She’d enjoy spending an afternoon seeing something of the surrounding area before catching her flight back to Seattle. “Great.”
Raven looked in the rearview mirror. “River, why don’t you close your eyes, sweetheart. We should be there by the time you wake up.”
“I don’t want to take a nap,” she instantly protested.
“River.”
“Will you let me stay up late if I take a nap?”
“River.”
“Just until it’s dark so I can see the moon.”
J.J. stiffened. “Er...the moon back in Denver, right?” she interrupted in alarm.
Raven shot her an amused look. “Last time I checked they were both the same one.” He glanced in the rearview mirror again, addressing his daughter. “If the moon doesn’t come up too late, that’s fine.”
“Wait a minute—”
“That’s not a yes,” he added. “That’s a maybe.”
“A maybe’s close to a yes, right?” River demanded.
“Close. But not there, yet. Now go on to sleep.”
“Okay.”
“No! Not okay,” J.J. protested, swiveling in
her seat to face Raven. “I thought you said we were going to the cabin to talk.”
“We are.” He’d set his jaw in a stubborn slant, a posture she’d come to recognize as a bad sign. It meant she didn’t have a hope of winning the coming argument. “It’s just that our conversation might take a few days.”
She fought to speak around the tightness gripping her chest. No. No way. She wouldn’t allow him to bend her to his will as her father had always done. “I don’t have a few days. I have a plane to catch tonight.”
Raven shrugged. “I’m afraid you’re going to miss it. I suggest you reschedule. You can ask Gem to make new reservations when we get to the cabin.”
It was becoming more difficult to breathe. “I want to go back to Denver. Right now.”
Something in J.J.’s expression warned that she was dead serious. Raven spared a quick look at his daughter. The last two days had clearly taken their toll. She’d already fallen asleep, curled in a dainty ball despite the restriction of the seat belt. Carefully, he pulled off onto a rough dirt side road.
“Okay, Ms. Randell. Let’s talk.”
Without a word, she thrust open the door and scrambled from the car. A light autumn breeze caught her hair, tossing it around her shoulders like a matador’s cape. Aspen framed her, the white bark and golden leaves a sharp foil against her vibrant coloring. She presented him with her back, her arms wrapped around her waist. He reached into the car and removed her coat. Crossing to her side, he dropped it around her shoulders, enclosing her in warmth.
“Will River be okay in the car alone?” she asked. She didn’t turn around, but he noticed she snuggled deeper into the soft woolen folds.
“She’s out cold. She won’t overhear anything we say and we’re three steps from the car if she needs us.”
J.J. inclined her head. “Okay. So, let’s talk. In case I haven’t made myself clear, I want to return to Denver. Now, please.”
How rigid she sounded, with just the merest thread of anxiety underscoring her words. It was that anxiety that got to him. “I owe you an apology,” Raven said with a rough sigh. “I should have asked first before dragging you out here.”
That did bring her around. “You’re darned right you should have. No one makes decisions for me. No one.”
“I’ll remember in future,” he replied evenly. “But that doesn’t change the situation. We have to settle our problem with River’s wish. And we’re not going to do it back in Denver.”
A streak of vibrant red marked her cheeks and an angry sparkle darkened her honey brown eyes. For the first time she truly looked like the fairy River adored so fiercely. And for the first time he realized the difference between the image Jack Rabbitt had created and the actual woman. Justice was free to live life to the fullest—free to express her emotions, naked physically as well as spiritually. But not J.J. She remained fully shrouded, tiptoeing through life with great care, as though the world were made of eggshells and one false step would send her plummeting into a frightening void.
“You don’t like losing control, do you?” he observed.
“Losing it?” She laughed, the sound tinged with a hint of irony. “Considering how rarely I’ve ever been in control, I’m not sure it’s possible for me to lose it.”
“Interesting.” Raven’s regard intensified. Now what—or more likely who—had managed to steal this woman’s innate inner power? “And why are you so rarely the one in control?” he asked.
She instantly turned wary, quick to rebuild her defenses, cloaking herself in frost and icicles. It magnified his curiosity, making him wonder what would happen if she ever fully cut loose. “I don’t like having my decisions made for me,” she informed him tightly. “You had no business taking me to your cabin without discussing it first.”
“You’re right. That’s why we’re standing here. So we can discuss it now.” He approached, fascinated by the way she held her ground when he could see how badly she wanted to retreat. Brave woman. “I have a brand-new, fully stocked cabin not far from Denver. It’s isolated and, best of all, the reporters haven’t discovered it yet, which means we can settle our problems in private. Will you come?”
“For how long?”
He shrugged. “For as long as it takes. A day. Two.”
“A week?”
“If it becomes necessary.”
Alarm broke across her expression. “You know that’s not possible. I only came to Denver for a few hours—a day tops. I didn’t even bring spare clothes with me. I spent the morning shopping for what little I do have.”
“I can make arrangements for anything you need.”
Her lips compressed. “I have to get back to work.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow, his voice ever so gently mocking. “I thought you were at work. Isn’t giving River her wish your current assignment?”
“Yes, but—”
Unable to resist, he stepped closer. At what point would he break through to the woman frozen beneath the protective ice? What would it take for J.J. to become Justice? If this really were a fairy tale, a kiss would be the solution. Too bad she didn’t look like a woman waiting to be awakened by love’s first kiss. He forced himself to be honest. Brutally honest. He had no love to give, even if she were open to receiving it. Though it might be interesting to see the transition in both of them if he gave it a try.
“It should have only taken a day,” J.J. was explaining—more to herself, he suspected, than to him. “I couldn’t even go home and pack. The memo said I had to leave immediately and—”
“You came. You promised River a wish. And now you want to leave without fulfilling it. Nice.”
He’d hit his mark, as he’d intended. She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead she turned and gazed out at the surrounding landscape as though it held the answers she sought. The wind swept past, pausing only long enough for them to sample its chilly bite before rushing off to summon a rainbow-hued whirlwind from the drifts of fallen leaves.
J.J. withdrew deeper into the soft folds of her coat. She’d raised the collar so the black lamb’s wool kissed her pale jawline, creating a sharp contrast of black on white, textured on smooth. In that instant, she didn’t seem quite real anymore, more like a bittersweet illusion that momentarily displaced the harshness of reality.
“She wants a mother,” J.J. murmured at last and the illusion vanished, just as all fantasies did. “Did you realize she’d made it her birthday wish?”
“Not at the time.” He couldn’t manage more than that. He’d give his daughter the earth, if he could, even throw in the sun and stars as an afterthought. But to provide her with a mother—one possibly like Maise... He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Anything but that.
“What happened to her mother?” So soft. So gently asked.
“She died.”
“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t going to let it drop, he could tell. Sure enough, she turned slightly, slanting those exotic honeyed eyes in his direction. “Does River remember her?”
“Maise died when River was only a few weeks old.” Compassion dawned in J.J.’s expression and he wanted to wipe it out even as he wanted to drown in it. It was his turn to withdraw, to push temptation to a safe distance. “If you lived here, you’d have read about it in the papers. Or Ms. Lark could have filled you in, if only you’d known to ask.”
The collar brushed her jaw again. Black on white, textured on smooth. Sweet fantasy displacing harsh reality. His hands clenched. It had been so damned long. Too damned long. What a shame he no longer believed in fantasies.
“I don’t think I’d have liked Ms. Lark’s version,” J.J. murmured. “She doesn’t strike me as the most empathetic woman in the world.”
“Let’s just say Ms. Lark has a lurid imagination. Her version was rather damning.” He shrugged it off. “It isn’t important.”
But, apparently, he’d said too much. That, or else he’d underestimated J.J.’s intuitive powers. Comprehension slipped to the surface
, shadowing her eyes. “Ms. Lark blamed you for Maise’s death, didn’t she?”
“Good guess.” Time to put the delectable Ms. Randell in her place—a place as far from him as possible. “It made for amusing reading, all about how my wife and I were on the verge of divorce. How relieved I was when Maise died because I received full custody of my daughter without a nasty courtroom battle.”
“Oh, no!”
He smiled, actually amused by her appalled reaction. “Haven’t you guessed, sweetheart? According to the papers, I drove my wife to her death. Two short weeks after the birth of our daughter, I forced Maise from the house during a thunderstorm wearing only a thin nightgown. She died of pneumonia six days later. It’s common knowledge. The papers reported the entire incident. Since then I’ve been Mr. Untouchable. No woman touches me. And I touch no woman.” His smile grew, deliberately sharp and biting. “Until now.”
J.J. tilted her head to one side, her hair a black satin waterfall over the front of her coat. Temptation beckoned again, urging him to fist his hand around that soft slide of silk. To drag it to his mouth, then drag her to his mouth. To consume her as if she were a long-awaited feast.
“Is that what I should believe, too?” she asked with impressive calm. “Or is that what you’re hoping I’ll believe?”
“Does it matter?”
“I suspect it does.”
He managed a laugh. “You’re wrong. It doesn’t matter in the least.” Deliberately he turned his too-observant fairy lady in a new direction. “Shall we move this conversation along? After all, you’re not here to grant my wish, are you, Ms. Randell?”
“No.”
Was that a hint of regret he heard? He hardened himself against the possibility. “I didn’t think so. Continuing this particular line of discussion is pointless.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “I suggest we focus on River and find a way to accomplish her wish with the least amount of hassle, in the least amount of time. And I suggest we decide on a story to release to the newspapers.”
The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance) Page 8