“Old Sam is one smart bastard. And he’s right, if he asked anyone else to handle this, he’d probably be playing pinochle with the kidnappers until doomsday waiting for the payoff. I regret to say it, but most of his so-called friends, once they got their hands on the goodies, would forget all about the bonds of friendship.”
“Pays to have one or two close friends in this world,” Jonas observed.
“True. Speaking of which, I appreciate your offer to tag along, Jonas. But I don’t want to be the cause of you and my daughter splitting up.”
“Verity and I are not going to split up over a little thing like this,” Jonas assured him quickly, his voice hard. “She’ll come around. She’s just mad because she’s used to getting her own way. That’s your fault, you know. You’re the one who brought her up to be a world-class brat.”
Emerson sighed. “I don’t know, Jonas. I’ve never seen her quite the way she was tonight. At the end there, it was like she just sort of gave up. Not like Verity to give up on anything. I raised her to fight for what she wants.”
A cold fist gripped Jonas’s insides. The thought of Verity giving up on their relationship hit him with stunning force. He hadn’t considered that possibility. He was accustomed to the way she surrendered completely in bed, the way she fussed about his career, or lack thereof, the way she lectured him to reform his casual attitude toward work. He had been reveling in her attention for the past few months, he realized, taking for granted that she was in love with him.
Worse, he had complacently assumed that the psychic bond they shared was inviolate and unbreakable. It underlay everything else in their relationship, and it would always be there between them.
Jonas forced himself to relax. That bond was his high card. Verity couldn’t deny it. It bound them together, a more certain glue than love, or sex, or business. She couldn’t deny it.
But he had learned over the past few months that Verity had the strength and determination to do just about anything she set out to do.
Jonas knew that if she planned to write him off as a lost cause, he was in big trouble.
He finished his vodka. The glass made a sharp sound as he set it down on the table. He rose to his feet. “I’d better go back to the cabin and pack.”
“You do that,” Emerson said, his bushy brows arching. “I’ll lock up the cafe. Don’t forget to set the alarm. We’ve got to be out of here by five o’clock to catch that flight for Mexico City. It’s a ninety-minute drive to the San Francisco airport.”
“I’ll see you at five.” Jonas didn’t look back as he strode out of the cafe. Getting up on time was not his main concern. Reassuring himself that Verity wasn’t about to write him off was a much higher priority.
Jonas’s list of priorities in life was short and simple. His relationship with Verity was at the top. She had originally ranked first because she had the talent to help him control the power that was buried inside him. But now there were other bonds that tied him to her. Passion, friendship, and love were all mixed up with the psychic link. Jonas didn’t worry about separating out and analyzing the bonds that tied him to Verity, but he sensed that occasionally Verity’s very feminine mind did tackle that issue.
Women had a talent for creating problems where, as far as a man was concerned, none existed.
Outside, Jonas took a deep breath of the night air. The little town of Sequence Springs was in the grip of winter. All of Northern California was experiencing an unusually cold season. There had been some snow in January, and Jonas suspected there would be more before February was out.
It would be warm in Mexico—but not as warm as Verity’s bed.
He groaned at the thought of sleeping without his redheaded beauty for the next few days. Then he pulled up the collar of his new fleece-lined suede jacket. He liked the jacket, mostly because Verity had given it to him for Christmas. He hadn’t owned a heavy jacket when he’d first arrived in Sequence Springs; he hadn’t needed one before.
Most of the places he’d been drifting in and out of for the past few years while he’d been on the run had been in the South Pacific and Mexico. Places with warm, humid climates, balmy breezes, and a relaxed attitude. Places where people drank too much rum and tequila and didn’t worry much about the past. Places that somehow drained a man of any desire to focus too intently on the future. Places where a man could hide, even from himself.
Jonas shoved his hands deep into his pockets and headed down the path to Verity’s cabin. He could see lights glowing warmly from the windows. A few hundred yards away, on the edge of the lake, the impressive, neoclassical facade of the elegant Sequence Springs Spa Resort was lit with powerful floodlights. The building glowed in the distance, appearing almost otherworldly. Verity sometimes went to the spa in the evenings to soak in the hot pools. Jonas hoped she hadn’t decided to go there tonight.
A shadow moved behind the window as he walked up the front steps and across the deck of the cabin. Jonas relaxed slightly. Verity was home, waiting for him. He opened the front door and went in, not certain what to expect.
Verity turned abruptly as he stepped into the rustic room and closed the door behind him. She was ready for bed, wearing a quilted robe over a long flannel nightgown, her wild red curls pinned up on her head, emphasizing her fine-boned face and huge, expressive eyes.
As always, Jonas felt a fierce, twisting rush of passion and an overriding need to protect his little firebrand. She needed him, he told himself, not for the first time. She could be amazingly stubborn, but in spite of that prickly exterior she was very sweet and vulnerable. She needed a man to look after her.
She was still a little too thin, Jonas decided, examining her critically. He had been trying to fatten her up this winter, but it was difficult. Verity worked too hard. The No Bull Cafe was hers, and she suffered all the anxieties and pressures of the small-business entrepreneur. Jonas had been her dishwasher, waiter, and handyperson since he had answered her ad last fall. Lately she had been teaching him how to cook the gourmet vegetarian food that was the cafe’s specialty.
On the whole, he liked the work, and the fringe benefits were outstanding—he got to sleep with the boss. And he knew for a fact that no one else had ever slept with this particular boss. Verity had been a virgin until he had walked into her life.
“What are you drinking?” Jonas asked as he shrugged out of his jacket. He would try the calm, rational approach first.
“Chamomile tea.” She clutched her mug in both hands. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“It’s very soothing. Helps you sleep.”
At least she wasn’t yelling at him. Jonas risked a small grin, letting his gaze rove over her. “I’ve got a better remedy. Come to bed and I’ll show you.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. She said nothing, just stood there sipping her tea. He didn’t like the hint of uncertainty he thought be saw in her eyes. The fingers of the cold fist that had assaulted him earlier returned to flex painfully on his insides.
“What time are you and Dad leaving in the morning?”
“Five. I’ll get up around four-fifteen. All I have to do is throw a few things in my duffel bag. Won’t be needing much. We won’t be gone more than a few days.” He tried to subtly emphasize the last words.
“I suppose one of the things you’ll be tossing into your bag is that damn knife you carry?” she asked with a hint of renewed aggression.
“Honey, I’ve been traveling with that knife for so long I’d feel naked without it. Don’t worry. It’s just a precaution. I don’t plan on using it.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said quietly. “You and Dad aren’t planning on just handling the ransom drop, are you? You’re going to try to rescue Samuel Lehigh.”
Jonas’s mouth tightened. He slung the shirt over one shoulder and studied her for a moment. “It’s just a ransom swap, Verity. No reason to think the guy
s holding Lehigh want anything except the cash. It’s just a business deal.”
“Sure.”
Jonas shrugged impatiently. “Lehigh’s a good friend of your father’s. Do you really expect Emerson to do nothing?”
“Nope.” Verity sipped her tea.
“And do you expect me to stay here while Emerson goes down to Mexico alone to handle the payoff?”
“Nope.” Verity put her mug of tea on the counter. She turned away from him for a moment as she did so. When she turned back, she was smiling.
It wasn’t her brilliant, melt-’em-in-their-shoes smile, Jonas thought, but at least it was a smile. It was a small, oddly gentle smile, filled with far too much wise, superior feminine understanding for his taste.
He’d caught traces of this particular smile on her soft mouth a couple of times during the past week, and it was beginning to make him uneasy. It was as if Verity knew something he didn’t know.
He dropped his shirt across the back of a nearby chair and moved toward her. When he held out his arms, she walked into them and wrapped her arms around his waist. He buried his lips in her hair as she leaned her head against his bare chest.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, little tyrant,” he vowed. Her sweet scent relaxed something inside him that had been wound too tightly for the past few hours. Everything was going to be all right, he told himself. Verity would be waiting when he returned. She was a home-loving woman.
“You’d better get to bed early tonight,” she said softly, ignoring his last comment. “You’ll need the sleep.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” He picked her up and started down the short hall to the bedroom. Through the fabric of her nightgown and robe he could feel the sleek muscles of her thighs. His body stirred eagerly, the familiar, powerful hunger beginning to seize him.
By the time he got her into the bedroom and slipped off her robe, Verity’s strange little smile had reached her eyes.
She climbed into bed and leaned back against the pillows, watching as he unzipped his jeans.
“You know something? This is beginning to have a familiar feel,” Jonas said suddenly as he finished undressing and crawled into bed beside her. He was aroused and ready.
“What is?”
“Going to bed with you every night. It’s getting to feel sort of comfortable and natural.” He reached for her and felt the slight stiffening of her body.
“Maybe it feels a little too familiar,” she suggested, not meeting his eyes. Her fingertips toyed with the curly hair on his chest.
Jonas tensed. “What the hell does that mean?”
Verity shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought you might be getting a little bored with life in Sequence Springs. This isn’t exactly an exciting place.”
He relaxed and began to nuzzle her throat. “It’s exciting enough for me.”
When she moved against him he trapped one of her legs between his own, chaining her gently so that he could lift off her flannel nightgown. As she lay there naked he ran one hand down the length of her body, luxuriating in the feel of her gentle curves. She was so soft and sweet and warm. He palmed her breast and felt the instant tautening of her nipple. When he heard her faint intake of breath, he groaned and bent his head to capture her mouth.
Her hand trailed down his hip to tease the inside of his thigh, then she took his hard manhood into her palm. She could drive him over the edge with just her touch. She knew exactly how to stroke him, sensed precisely how to cradle the throbbing fullness until he was on fire for her. When she squeezed gently, it was his turn to suck in his breath.
“Jesus, honey, that feels so good,” he said huskily. “You’ve got the magic touch.”
“Thanks to you,” she murmured demurely. “Everything I know I’ve learned from you.”
“Remember that,” he retorted as a wave of possessiveness surged through him. “This won’t work with anybody else.
“Is that right? I thought all men were pretty much the same in the dark.”
“A vicious myth. Totally untrue!” Deliberately he parted her legs with his hands, seeking the hot, damp core of her body. “Verity, I’m not joking. What you and I have is special and you know it. Why else would you have avoided getting involved with any other man until I came along?”
He sensed her smile in the darkness. “You’ve made it clear on many occasions that the only reason I was still single when you showed up was that no other man was willing to put up with my sharp tongue and my temper.”
Jonas grinned. “Well, those were contributing factors, I’ll admit. But the main reason you were still alone was that you were waiting for me. You didn’t know it, but that’s what it was. Fortunately for you, I didn’t let the thorns get in my way when I decided to go after the rose.”
“Jonas, your arrogance is showing.”
“A man should take pride in his accomplishments. Taming a shrew is a hell of an achievement. Very few men around these days are even capable of it. It’s a lost art.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.” He prowled slowly down her body, inhaling her intoxicating scent as he drew closer and closer to his goal. He settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs over his shoulders. He parted her gently with his fingers and lowered his head.
“Jonas.”
Her short, neat nails dug into his shoulders as he tasted her rich, hot flavor. He could hear her small gasps of pleasure and gloried in the way she responded to him.
It always sent a primitive thrill through him to know that he could turn Verity from a prim, disapproving, aggressively independent little tyrant into a passionate, seductive sorceress who craved him and him alone. He would never get enough of this kind of reaction, Jonas thought as she shivered in his arms. Verity had a way of making him shatteringly aware of his manhood. He was addicted to the sensation.
Deliberately he deepened the intimate kiss, reveling in her earthy, feminine taste and scent. Verity’s nails raked his skin. She would leave her mark on him tonight and he was determined to leave his on her.
It was all he could do to hold himself in check as he listened to her husky cries of delight. He sent his tongue on passionate forays until she was a shuttering, writhing bundle of femininity.
Then he could wait no longer. When he felt her body begin to tighten, he surged up along the length of her. She reached for him, pulling him close and wrapping her legs around his waist. He found her mouth and let her taste herself on his lips. The erotic kiss drove him wild.
“Hold me.” His voice was hoarse with passion. “Hold on to me, Verity.” His demand was very much like the one he made on her when he unleashed the psychic power that allowed him dangerous glimpses into the past. He needed her when the past came up around him, and he needed her when he was in the grip of his own raging desire.
“Yes, Jonas, oh yes.”
He pushed slowly, heavily into her, needing to feel the silken walls of her soft passage close around him. As always he was aware of the slight resistance with which her body greeted him. She was small, and tight, and so warm. Then, under his insistent, filling pressure, the hot, moist sheath began to accommodate him. He buried himself deep inside until he lost himself in her clinging heat.
Together they lost themselves in the rippling, clashing currents of desire. When Jonas felt Verity convulse around him and heard the tiny, unmistakable cries that signaled her release, he gave himself over completely to the surging sea.
His own climax followed soon after hers. A hoarse shout of triumph and satisfaction shook him. Then he collapsed, his head on her breast. His chest was damp, as traces of his perspiration mixed with hers. He savored the last, fading tremors deep within her body. He was still inside her, and the effect was similar to an exquisitely gentle massage on the most sensitive part of his body.
He knew from previous experience
that if he stayed where he was, he would get hard again. If he wanted any sleep tonight, he’d better stop now.
“I love you, Verity.” The words were raw.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He waited a long moment, enjoying the sweet, lingering aftermath of their lovemaking. Then he withdrew reluctantly and rolled to the side. He settled her within the curve of his arm and told himself that everything really was going to be all right now.
Jonas was on the edge of sleep, his mind relaxed and his soul at peace, when Verity spoke again.
“I think,” she said quite clearly in the darkness, “that I need a vacation. Maybe I’ll take one while you and Dad are in Mexico.”
Jonas’s peace vanished in an instant. Rage roared through him. It was the kind of fury that had its roots in a very primitive fear, a fear that had been nibbling at him for the past couple of weeks, a fear he had refused to acknowledge.
It was the fear that Verity might be growing dissatisfied with her live-in lover.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The author of over 50 New York Times bestsellers, JAYNE ANN KRENTZ writes romantic-suspense, often with a psychic and paranormal twist, in three different worlds: Contemporary (as Jayne Ann Krentz), historical (as Amanda Quick) and futuristic (as Jayne Castle). There are over 35 million copies of her books in print.
Building on the success of her Arcane Society Series, Jayne is kicking off three new paranormal series in 2012.
The Dark Legacy books are set in present day Washington state and delve into the paranormal crystal mining world and the Coppersmith Family. The first book, COPPER BEACH is available now.
The Ladies of Lantern Street novels are set in Victorian England and follow the adventures of the Flint and Marsh Agency employees. These ladies are not your average paid companions. The first book, CRYSTAL GARDENS is available now.
The Rainshadow novels started, unofficially, with the release of CANYONS OF NIGHT. These stories are set on a small island on the planet Harmony in the not so distant future. The second novel in this series, THE LOST NIGHT, will be available in September 2012.
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