Hunter gazed at the dog. “Was anything disturbed?”
“Not that I can tell.”
“Mind if I look around?”
She was embarrassed by the way she’d acted this morning. She nodded an invitation. “Be my guest. This is pretty much what it looked like before I left for Mexico.”
Hunter prowled down the hallway. Benny couldn’t take it. He scurried after him, staying a few feet back, but watching Hunter’s every move. The dog wasn’t exactly threatening, but he wasn’t relaxed. Jenny briskly rubbed her bare arms with her opposite hands, hugging herself a bit. Maybe her nervousness was catching. Or maybe Benny was just being cautious after his encounter with the burglar.
She heard Hunter enter her bedroom, but the thought of him inside her room was more than she could bear. She sprang into action, hurrying to the kitchen to do something—anything. She thought about making a pot of coffee, gave that idea up in favor of something stronger and pulled out a jug of chilled white wine from the refrigerator.
She was just unscrewing the metal cap when he returned. “Not exactly vintage stuff,” she said. “But it’s what I drink when I’m not south of the border.”
He smiled faintly. “I thought you were an heiress.”
She snorted and poured them each a glass. “If my father saw me drinkingjug wine, he’d have a coronary.”
“That’s why you drink it.”
“I drink it because I like it, and because it’s all I could afford for years. I’ll keep liking it, because I never want to forget who I really am.”
He gazed at her silently.
“Jenny Holloway,” she said firmly. “Not Geneva Holloway Russell.”
He accepted the glass she poured him, sipping it casually, his gaze never leaving her face. “You’re both,” he pronounced. “And I like the wine, too.”
That was enough to send Jenny’s nerves into overdrive once again. She sipped and sipped and fought a strange, urgent desire to scream. She wanted him to grab her and press her up against the counter and make love to her in the kitchen. She wanted to feel his possession. She wanted to live.
“So, what did you learn in your search?” she asked after a long, tense moment.
“You’re tidy. Your son isn’t.”
Jenny giggled. “That’s an understatement!”
“This him?” Hunter inclined his head toward the photo on Jenny’s kitchen desk. Jenny nodded. “He looks like you.”
“He looks like his father. The eyes are mine, though. And his sense of humor.”
“He still at that soccer camp?”
“Until tomorrow.”
Benny snuffled against Jenny’s hand and she swept her palm over his silken head. Hunter leaned against the kitchen archway, surveying them both. The clock ticked loudly. Feeling breathless, Jenny finally blurted out, “I had to leave. I just couldn’t stay any longer.”
He gazed at her for a moment. “I didn’t like waking to the sounds of you leaving.”
Jenny set down her glass. Her hands were trembling. She crossed her arms to hide them. “I know.”
“It’s all right.”
She couldn’t read him. Was he saying he didn’t want to be involved with her—or that he did? And what did she want anyway?
“I took a chance that the bodyguard job was still open.”
“It is. Yes.” She nodded jerkily.
Watching her, he added, “You can let me know if there’s anything else you want.”
“I’m sorry I panicked. It was more over Rawley than you. I got here and I called him and talked to him and I felt better. I probably could have done that from Puerto Vallarta, but …” She shrugged. “I kind of thought I was getting in over my head.”
“I thought you left because of what I told you.”
“Not totally. I mean, that was part of it. Oh, I don’t know …” She gazed at him helplessly. “I really am glad you’re here.”
The moment stretched between them. Jenny didn’t bother hiding her feelings any longer. She wanted him and her longing showed in her eyes. She was hungry for his arms and his touch.
Hunter couldn’t miss the message. Deliberately, he set down his own glass and crossed the space between them. Just as deliberately he lifted her chin with his finger, and with sensual deliberation his lips descended to hers, stopping a whisper away. “Let’s just see where this goes,” he suggested and it was all Jenny could do to keep from moaning with desire before his mouth finally possessed hers.
Her knees weakened. She felt the counter’s edge press into her hips, felt his hardened manhood against her softer flesh, felt a wave of pure desire sing through her veins, so that her hands were both clutching him and tearing at his clothes at the same time.
“I want you,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I left.”
“Shhh …”
He sighed against her neck, a soft, almost erotic sound that sent a whoosh of air from her lungs. His hands slid down her back, cradling her close. He was waiting for her to make the decision, she realized, and it was a heady sensation. Her hands slid along his belt to the buckle and slowly undid the clasp. He shifted to accommodate her exploration, but only after his mouth had found hers again, his tongue moving tenderly inside.
Benny whined and Jenny tried to shoo him away. She wanted Hunter and she wanted him now. Stroking the length of his shaft, she marveled at the wanton thoughts that beset her. A tiny voice she didn’t believe was hers begged him. “Please,” she whispered. “Please … now …”
“God,” he muttered, his hands urgently slipping under her blouse, fumbling with her bra, finally pulling it away from her breasts. His thumb rubbed her nipple, hard. She clung to him with one hand, caressing him with the other.
That was it. Hunter clasped her close, lowered her to the floor, his weight fitting against her, his own body thrusting. Benny had moved to safer ground, pacing near the kitchen archway door, concerned but a bit flummoxed. “Get out,” Hunter almost snarled, to which Jenny giggled. The dog slipped down the hall to Rawley’s room.
The kitchen floor uncomfortably hard beneath her hips and shoulder blades. Hunter, realizing that, lifted himself on his forearms, which only intensified the pressure of his hips against hers.
“Maybe we should—” he began, but Jenny shut him up with a hot kiss and tugged his jeans partway down.
He broke the kiss with a gasp and shucked the rest of his clothes. Then he bent his head to her bare breasts, suckling one nipple, then the other. Jenny squirmed beneath him. His fingers hooked into her pants and dragged them over her hips. He slipped one finger inside her, and thrust gently, erotically, making her slick with desire. Losing herself in the sensation, she closed her eyes and grabbed his hand, helping him arouse her beyond all reason. She arched, wanting more, all of him, and Hunter thrust himself deep inside her, again and again, until she cried out. They climaxed together, shaken by the intensity of the feeling.
“No, don’t move,” Jenny whispered, as she pulled herself away from Hunter’s embrace, pleased by his murmured protests. “I’m just getting a glass of water.”
She left him lying in her bed, looking back once to savor the sight of him, gloriously naked on her rumpled sheets. Padding to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and gulped it down—man, sex made her thirsty!—when she heard the dog scratching at the front door.
“Go home,” she said through the panels to Benny. She grinned in the semi-darkness. They’d gotten him outside after their initial lovemaking.
Benny whined a little and Jenny shook her head and returned to the bedroom. She sank onto the mattress, then was engulfed in a full leg and arm embrace. Pressing her face to his hair-dusted chest, she fought back another smile. She was grinning like an idiot, too happy for words. She fell asleep thinking, This is the most perfect moment of my life.
Later, she would remember that thought and question her own sanity.
She was up at dawn, whistling softly and planning breakfast. It was so incredibly
domestic that she smiled at herself. Hunter was in the shower and she listened to the running water as if it were the music of a symphony.
The ringing phone jarred her. Snatching up the receiver, she said, “Hello,” without her usual trepidation. In truth, she didn’t even think about who might be on the other end of the line. All she could hear was Hunter. He took her sole attention.
“Geneva?”
It was Allen. Her dear old dad. She sighed. “Hello.”
“You’re back.” He was surprised. “I intended to leave a message on your phone. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was awake.”
“You’re picking up Rawley from that soccer camp today?”
He was remarkably informed on her life, but then she’d told him her schedule and her father never forgot anything. “Yes.”
“I’d like you to bring him over to the house. I just want to assure myself that you and he are all right.”
“I can’t today. I’m—busy. No, you’ll have to—” Her attention returned with a bang. “Has Troy called again?”
He hesitated before saying flatly, “No.”
Jenny glanced at the clock. “Why don’t we make a date later this week? I’m going to be packing and I need to get some things done.” She didn’t want to see her father, period.
“Geneva, I want you and Rawley to stay with Natalie and me for a while. It’s safe here. Postpone that trip to Santa Fe until we know what Troy wants.”
“What?” She half laughed. “I’m moving! I’m not staying with you and Natalie. If you want to see Rawley, I’ll set it up. But I’m staying at the apartment until then and I’ll be safe.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have someone to protect me now.”
She supposed she shouldn’t have said it, but as soon as the words were out she was glad. Let him think of it what he would.
“Who?”
“A bodyguard.”
“You hired one?”
“I met him in Mexico. He’s worked in law enforcement, and he’s come back with me to Houston.”
“You brought him back with you?” Her father’s voice had grown quieter and quieter.
She could just imagine what he was thinking! “Don’t panic. Trust me on this one, please. I can make some choices.”
“What’s his name?”
Jenny pulled the receiver from her ear and made a face at it, annoyed by her father’s nosiness. “Hunter Calgary,” she stated firmly, as if it would make any difference to Allen.
Silence followed this remark. “You’ve hired this man as your bodyguard,” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe her words.
“He’s … yes … I have.”
“He’s what?”
“Never mind. I’m happy with the situation, and you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“Are you dating this man, Geneva?”
She gripped the receiver harder, closed her eyes and counted to five before Allen exploded with, “I can’t believe this. You met a stranger in Mexico and you brought him home. Your gullibility shocks me! Didn’t you learn anything from your experience with Troy?”
“Good-bye, Allen,” she said.
“I want you and Rawley to stop by, without this guy.”
“Don’t push me.”
“Today, Geneva!”
“Not today. Not—”
“Tomorrow, then.”
She drew a breath. “Call me. We’ll have lunch.”
“Don’t be flip. Troy is still out there, wanting something.”
Jenny gritted her teeth. “Wednesday night. Dinner. At one of your restaurants.”
“They’re your restaurants too, but no, I want you to come to the house. Natalie will take care of dinner.”
By calling a caterer, Jenny thought, but she knew better than to say it. What difference did it make now? “Six o’clock Wednesday. And don’t bring your new bodyguard.”
He practically snarled the last word, and Jenny simmered with all the rebellion of her youth.
She hung up the phone just as the shower ceased. She couldn’t wait to get to Santa Fe.
Hunter stepped into the hallway, a towel slung over his lean hips, traces of water still shining in his chest hair. “What?” he asked, reading the expression on her face.
“I’m going to need a bodyguard all the way to Santa Fe,” she said.
“I planned on it.”
“That’s right, you live there.” She shook her head in bemusement. How strange the fates were. They were going to be living in the same town! “Maybe we should talk money. I mean, I don’t know what you charge … but…”
He flinched. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Hunter …”
“Jenny, I don’t want to talk about money right now.”
“Okay.”
“I just want to think about something else,” he explained with a sigh.
“Breakfast?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“What, then?”
He stared at her for a long moment. Jenny’s gaze moved to his bare chest and she wondered if she were losing her mind. All she could think about was one thing.
He lifted one brow. A slow smile crossed Jenny’s lips.
“Again?” he asked in rich amusement.
Reaching for the edge of his towel, she gently began to pull.
“I’m heading out to pick up Rawley,” Jenny said into the receiver. “Tell Rick thanks. Maybe I’ll see him there.” She listened a moment to Janice’s distracted answers. The twins were stealing her attention once more. “No, really. I appreciate it all. And if you can steal away for a few minutes to say good-bye and have a glass of wine together, just let me know. ‘Bye.”
Glancing at the hearty breakfast on the stove top, she hurriedly scooped the flour tortilla from its pan, filled it with eggs, chorizo sausage, mild chili peppers, wrapped it up and dribbled salsa across its top. Hunter, who’d been nursing a cup of coffee, watched her deft movements with a smile. “And she cooks, too …”
“Don’t let this fool you. I’ve got about three dishes in my repertoire. I understand the financial side of the restaurant business. But I do know how to boil water.”
“And she’s modest.”
She smiled up at him, blowing her bangs out of her face. Quickly she put the other breakfast burrito together and served them at the tiny two-person table against the wall. Hunter sat down across from her, wondering when he’d last shared a home-cooked breakfast with a woman.
“Everything’s got that southwestern flavor,” she said.
“Fine by me.”
“You’re easy to please.”
He gave her a long look. “Sometimes.” Jenny grinned at him and he marveled that he’d found a way back to her. Still, there were tricky issues ahead. He wasn’t sure how to handle them.
“I’m picking up Rawley around four. Gotta get this work done and drop it by the restaurant first.”
“I’ve got some things to take care of, too,” Hunter said by way of an answer.
“Why don’t we meet later? Come in for lunch. I’ll make sure Alberto gives us a free going-away meal.”
Hunter nodded distractedly, wishing he didn’t have to tell her the truth. But there was no way around it.
Feeling her eyes on him, he sent her a smile. “Lunch it is,” he said.
“I talked to my father,” she admitted, cutting into her burrito with the edge of her fork. “I told him I had a bodyguard.”
Hunter froze.
“He was glad.”
“Was he …”
“But he guessed that we were involved.” She made a face. “I had to practically hang up on him. He wants to see Rawley and me before we leave, but I just dread it. Would you go with us? Wednesday night? He specifically asked for us to come alone, but don’t let that scare you. I don’t listen to him. I can’t! He makes me crazy.” She gave a mock shudder.
Hunter swallowed a piece of the burrito wi
th an effort and nodded.
“May I ask you a question?”
He wondered if this was what facing a firing squad was like. “Shoot.”
“You don’t talk about your family. Your parents, your sister …”
“They’re—dead.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. “All of them?”
He knew she was really asking about Michelle. He deliberated a moment, then decided she’d opened the door herself. “Michelle’s death was classified as a suicide, but it was something else.”
“Hunter …” Jenny breathed.
“She was pushed off a roof by a desperate boyfriend. She was pregnant. I followed him and, yes, harassed him. He filed a suit and that’s how I lost my job with the L.A.P.D.”
“Oh, Hunter.”
“It’s ugly, but it’s the truth.” He shot her a wary look. “Sorry. I know you didn’t want any more truths.”
“I didn’t mean that. I just couldn’t—process very well yesterday.”
“How are you doing now?”
“Better.” She studied him sympathetically. “I’m sorry about Michelle and your parents.”
“They died before Michelle, one of complications from pneumonia, one of cirrhosis of the liver, both from leading hard lives.”
She gazed at him with such empathy that it got to him. He didn’t want to talk about any of this. Thinking of Michelle just brought back his churning anger and loathing for Troy Russell.
“Jenny, I—”
She cut him off by jumping from her chair and hugging him close, kissing him tenderly. Suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It hit him like a sledgehammer.
Dragging a breath into his lungs, he said in an unsteady voice. “I’ll meet you at Riccardo’s.”
He left as quickly as he could. The wall keeping his emotions in check was on the verge of collapse.
“No, he’s coming to meet me here,” she told Carolyn.
“The guy from Puerto Vallarta.”
“Yes. And Alberto’s in a dither, trying to figure out what special thing he can concoct for the ‘lovebirds.’”
Carolyn giggled. “Oooh, I love it. After all this time, you find this fantastic man. And he wasn’t even the one who was looking for you. Oh, I remembered his name. Mike Conrad. Really handsome.”
In Too Deep Page 18