"And what's Joey's?"
Ted's brows raised. "Ah, now that's the question of the hour, isn't it? I thought I had her figured out. Thought she hated anything male and always would." He laughed and shook his head. "Guess I was wrong, huh?"
But Ash didn't feel like smiling. "Why'd you think that?"
Ted chalked the cue. "Always assumed it was because of her father." He looked up, frowning. "Hasn't she talked to you about this?"
Ash shook his head, sensing Ted's reluctance to say more.
"Well, she ought to. It isn't my place to say any—"
"Ted, telephone." Caroline's voice rang down the stairway.
Ted sighed, set the stick down and went up the stairs. Ash followed. He found his gaze drawn to Joey's face. Her eyes were round and concerned, fastened to Ted as he spoke quietly and hung up.
"Well, I'm afraid I have to go out."
"But, Ted—"
"It's an emergency, Caro. Mrs. Peterson's power is out, and she says the box smells hot. I really have to go." He gripped Caro's shoulders, drew her forward and kissed her quickly. Then he turned to pump Ash's hand. "Good meeting you, Ash,"
"Same here," he replied.
Ted faced Joey. His jaw tightened as he looked at her. "Take care, Joey." The words were heavy with meaning. And then he was hurrying out the door.
Caro sank onto the sofa, her face obviously straining to hide her misery. Ash wasn't sure what to do, but he caught Joey's glance. She nodded her head toward the two girls stretched on the floor watching television. She looked worried about her sister and Ash knew what she wanted.
"Hey, you two angels. Isn't it getting close to bedtime?"
Two blond heads turned in his direction. "Not yet!"
"Can't we stay up? Mommy?"
Ash shook his head in mock disappointment. "Well, I was going to read you a story. I never had any little girls to read bedtime stories to before. But if you'd rather stay and watch TV—"
They were on their feet in a flash, and Ash felt himself being tugged, one girl holding each of his hands, down the hall toward the bedrooms. He glanced over his shoulder at Joey, caught her grateful smile and sent her an encouraging wink.
She was worried. Right now, it was about her sister, but it went deeper, Ash thought. She hadn't relaxed all night. And while it was obvious she was still lying to him, and to her sister, as well, it was equally obvious that she hated every minute of it. And it did nothing to dampen the desire he felt for her every time he looked at her.
#
Joey slowly opened the bedroom door and peered inside. Ash sat in a rocker, a girl on each knee, a book open on his lap.
"And as the princess gently kissed the frog, something magical happened. The spell was broken, and he turned into the handsome prince he truly was. Falling down on his knees, he took the princess's hand in his and told her how much he loved her. They were married in a great celebration, and of course they lived happily ever after."
He closed the book. "Well, how was that?"
Joey smiled, an unfamiliar warmth curling in the pit of her stomach. She'd been furious with him earlier, but she'd reasoned with herself until she thought she understood him. He believed she was his wife. He probably felt frustrated and hurt that she'd rejected his physical advances. His rotten attitude was no more than another result of all he was going through right now. She had to forgive him. "They're asleep," she whispered.
Ash glanced at the blond heads lolling upon either of his shoulders. Joey stepped forward and scooped Bethany from his lap. She carried her to the white four-poster and tucked her in. When she turned, it was to see Ash installing Brittany in the bed's twin, on the other side of the room. Felix had already settled himself on the foot of her bed and looked dead to the world.
"You know, these two are just about the most precious things in my life."
"I'm not surprised," he said, his voice low. "They've charmed my socks off already."
She met his gaze across the room. "You're terrific with them."
"I love kids."
She went to the rocker and picked up the book. The process of forgiving him was suddenly complete. "The Frog Prince?"
Ash met her in the room's center. "Seemed appropriate," he said softly. "It's a fascinating theory, don't you think?" He took the book from her hands, set it aside. "I know I acted like a frog earlier. I didn't mean it"
"I know."
He slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. She stiffened, but he shook his head quickly. "One kiss, Joey. Not so much for a husband to ask from his wife, is it? Besides, how else will you know if there's a prince hidden under this frog skin?"
She moistened her lips. What she saw in his eyes made her blood warm, and she was assaulted once again by the attraction that wouldn't go away. She wanted to kiss him, not to convince him that they were truly man and wife, but to feel the touch of his mouth on hers, the pressure of his arms around her, the crush of his chest. She nodded. "All right One kiss."
Ash smiled. Then his mouth covered hers. His arms around her waist tightened, drawing her body to his. She parted her lips, curious, eager, excited, all at once. His tongue swept into her mouth like a loving caress, touching her in a probing search as if he were an explorer, the first to enter there. She felt as if he were tasting her, and liking what he found as his tongue dipped and danced around her mouth. She began to shake.
It shocked her. She tried to analyze it. She wasn't shivering with cold, or with fear. Her arms curled tighter around his neck. Her body pressed harder against his, and her fingers threaded into his hair. This was good. Whatever this was, it was incredibly good. When he withdrew his tongue, she thrust her own into his mouth. But hers was hungrier, more demanding, and she felt him shudder in response.
He tasted wonderful, and Joey didn't want to stop. Her body was responding to this closeness, this excitement, in primitive ways she couldn't deny. Her breaths came quick and shallow. Her skin heated and felt so sensitized that every movement of him against her sent her into another realm of awareness.
This was getting out of hand. It was more than a kiss, what they were doing. She ought to stop it, right now. Because he was losing himself in her as much as she was in him. She felt his heart hammering, heard his rapid breathing. All because of her. She was giddy as his mouth fed from hers. The feel of his hands at the base of her spine, their pressure holding her tight, was erotic, as was the gentle, exquisite way he sucked at her tongue.
She was so hot she thought she'd go up in flames. And then the sound of Caroline clearing her throat sent her to the opposite extreme. Ice coated her, extinguishing the heat She stepped away guiltily, suppressing a shiver. The fire in Ash's eyes still burned bright.
"Caro...I—I'm sorry. I...we just—"
"It's okay. I remember when it was like that. Go on home, you two."
Ash blinked, then turned, slipping a possessive arm around Joey's shoulders. "You sure you don't want us to stick around until Ted gets back?"
The pain that lanced her sister was visible, but Caro only nodded sharply. "No, he's liable to be...late. As long as the girls are asleep, I guess I'll turn in myself. It's been a long day. Good night"
Joey sighed as her sister turned and walked away. Ash kept his arm around her while they walked together to the front door. Joey turned the lock before closing the door.
Ash looked down at her and she met his gaze for a long moment before she had to look away. He wanted her. His eyes were telling her so in no uncertain terms. And dammit, she wanted him, too. But she couldn't let this thing with him develop into anything more than it was. She couldn't let herself begin to feel anything for him. God, she didn't ever want to suffer the way Caro was...the way their mother had.
He walked her to the car, opened the driver's door and stood aside. Joey shook her head and handed him the keys. "Go ahead, Ash. I'm too worried. I'd probably put us in a ditch."
He got in and she went around to the other side. "You want to talk abo
ut it?"
She frowned hard as he started the car. Strangely enough, she did. Why, for God's sake? What good would telling him do? "Caro thinks Ted's cheating on her." Joey shook her head and thumped her fist on the dash as the car backed out into the street. "Damn him. She has so little self-esteem left as it is. How can he do this to her?"
Ash shook his head. "Don't you think he deserves a trial before you string him up, Joey?"
"My sister wouldn't think it unless the evidence was pretty strong. She doesn't want to think it now, but it's getting harder not to."
"Why?"
She looked up at him, looked at the way the lights of other vehicles played over his face. His beard was coming in again, a darker shadow on his jaw. Her fingers itched to run over it. "There's money missing from their accounts, and he won't explain it. He has these murmured conversations on the phone and hangs up when she comes into the room. He's secretive. She knows he's keeping something from her. And that was the second emergency this week for Mrs. Peterson."
"So?"
"Mrs. Peterson's first name is Veronica. She's a thirty-five year-old widow who'll take on anything wearing pants."
"Mee-ow." He sent her a grin.
She scowled back at him.
"Well, have you ever met the woman?"
She lifted her chin. "No. But Caro has—"
"And you don't think she might be a little biased?"
"My sister isn't like that." She felt his gaze on her, but didn't look back. "Why do men do it, Ash?"
"What? Cheat?"
She nodded, still not facing him.
"All men don't do it."
She released a clipped, forceful sigh and shook her head. "Right"
"Your father did, didn't he?"
She looked up quickly, startled. "How do you know—?"
“Ted mentioned you had a problem with your dad. The rest was just deductive reasoning. You've talked about your mother several times, but never your dad. You and she must be very close."
"We were." She swallowed the lump in her throat
"Damn," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't know. Was it...recent?"
"Last year. Stroke." She drew a breath and willed herself to go on. "He was with his mistress the night she died. He moved her into my mother's house two months later."
"And you can't forgive him?"
"I hate him."
He nodded. "Hating people takes a lot of energy, Joey."
"I'm used to hating him. I've had a lot of practice."
"Been doing it a while, hmm?"
"Since the first time I saw him with someone else. I was twelve. The thing I never understood was why my mother put up with it. She had to know. God, if I could see it, I know she could. Why did she stay with him?"
"That's probably something only she could answer."
She nodded, but remained quiet.
"You know, growing up like that might make a lot of women wary. Maybe even a little quick to jump to conclusions."
She faced him as he turned her car into the long, graveled driveway and drove slowly over it "You think that's what Caro is doing?"
He shrugged. "Could be. I got the feeling Ted was hiding something, but it didn't seem like it was an affair."
She frowned "What else could it be?"
"I don't know. Whatever it is, he'd be better off being honest with Caroline about it. The truth probably isn't as bad as what she's thinking."
Joey blinked, for the first time wondering if there could be another explanation for Ted's behavior.
"It's important, I think. Being honest," he went on. He steered the car onto the blacktop portion of the driveway and killed the headlights, then the motor.
She had to turn her head away. Even though he couldn't see her in the darkness of the car, she could feel his eyes on her. She could feel that he knew she'd been less than honest with him, and she couldn't deny it.
"You're right." Her voice was almost a croak. "But sometimes there are things that are more important." She thought of her beautiful nieces, growing up without their mother, of the beautiful man beside her lying still and cold in a grave.
"Okay, I'll concede that point." He was silent a moment. "Will you answer me one question?"
"If I can." She lifted her head.
She heard him move, and then the interior light came on. He looked at her, rubbed his stubble-coated chin. "You see any signs of a prince emerging here?"
"Not a one." He looked crestfallen, and she laughed softly. "But you know, I'm beginning to think the frog isn't as bad as he pretends to be."
#
He slept in her bed again that night. It was an unspoken conclusion that he would. He still wasn't sure why she wanted him there, if she didn't want him. Of course, she did want him, she just wouldn't let it happen. So why share a bed?
Not that he'd turn her down. There was always a chance she would change her mind, right?
He showered, toweled off and stepped into the bedroom, only to find her already asleep, her back to him. He sighed in frustration, but he crawled in beside her.
Sometime that night he had the dream. He tried to wake up, but as always, he couldn't. He could only lie there, heart racing, skin beading with sweat, and live the damned thing over again. He should have been used to it by now.
But then it left him, all at once. Suddenly there was warmth in the cold little closet of his childhood. There was light. Someone was there with him, and it was all right.
In the morning, he almost choked. Joey was curled into his arms, her head nestled in the crook of his neck where her breaths bathed his skin. Her hair tickled his chin. Her legs twined with his, one lying over his, bringing the center of her tight to his own hardness.
Yes, hardness. That was what woke him. And how was he not supposed to get hard, with her pressed up against him this way?
She'd worn an oversize football jersey to sleep in. It was hiked up to her waist Her panties were brief, and they were too small a barrier. His shorts weren't much better. He could feel her warmth, and without his own permission he arched harder into her.
She responded by sighing softly, wet lips brushing his collarbone, and wriggling against his arousal.
He was in hell. He'd died during the night and this was to be his eternal torment. He couldn't move without waking her. And if he woke her, and she felt the undeniable proof of where his mind had wandered, she'd probably be furious with him for the rest of the day. As if he had a choice in the matter. He wasn't the one twined around her like a jungle vine!
She moved slightly, and the friction made him bite his lip. Then he bit it harder. Maybe pain would dampen his responses. He tried to back away a little, but her leg tightened around his.
He groaned out loud.
Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. He closed his fast. Maybe he could pretend he was still asleep.
#
Joey couldn't believe the way she'd wrapped herself around Ash as she'd slept. Then she remembered the dream, and she knew why.
It had been vivid, the nightmare. And it hadn't been her own. It had been his. She'd experienced every part of it right along with him. There was no imagery in the dream. No sights. Only darkness, and the sensation of smothering in it. There had been a deep fear that made his heart race, the gasping for breath that went on and on. The certainty that he'd be abandoned, alone in the dark, in a crushingly small place for a long, long time, had jumped out at her. And then there had been the sudden awareness that he wasn't alone.
She wasn't really there, in the small, black prison. He was. It was Ash's nightmare. But in the midst of sleep, she'd gone to him. She'd wrapped herself around him, wanting to shelter him from the darkness, the cruelty, the fear.
He'd clung to her, and the dream had lost its power.
She shook her head and gently loosened her grip on him. Easing her head from his chest, she drew her leg away from his. Then she looked at him, lying there in the golden light of early morning. So big. His long, powerful legs s
tretched to the very edge of the mattress. And so strong. His bare chest bulged, rippled. His biceps were as big around as her neck.
Yet he hadn't always been this way. He'd been young, and small. He'd been afraid, and so very alone. He'd had nightmares.
And somewhere, right now, today, beneath all the sinewed strength of the man, that little boy lived still, as vulnerable as he'd ever been. Ash kept that child in tight control. But he couldn't control the boy in his dreams.
Why, God, why did that one small glimpse inside him make her want him even more?
She lifted her trembling hand to touch his face. She ran her fingertips very lightly over his cheek and felt tears well up in her eyes for the boy he'd been. She slipped her arm around his waist and lay close to him again, wanting him to feel that closeness, wanting to keep his nightmarish memories at bay.
Tears spilled over, dampening the crisp hairs of his chest. Then his hand came to her face and very gently brushed them away.
"You're crying." He moved away from her, looking down with a deep frown. "Joey, what's the matter?"
She shook her head, staring into his eyes and seeing more than she ever had before. There was so much more to him than she'd known. So much she still had to learn.
"Bad dreams," she whispered.
Ash's frown only deepened.
Chapter Six
She was a puzzle.
No matter how he tried he couldn't figure her out. And he was beginning to feel more desperate to understand the workings of Joey Bradshaw's mind than he was to identify the Syracuse Slasher. Because he wanted her...more than he'd wanted any of the "party girls" he'd taken to bed in search of the elusive Miss Right
Across the table, he watched her delve into the omelet he'd made this morning. She closed her almond-shaped, emerald eyes—those rare precious gems that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe when she was serious, and seemed brighter than the sun when she smiled. She licked her full, cover-model lips, and Ash felt his gut twist into a hard little knot
"God, this is good. Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"Trial and error, mostly," he admitted. It wasn't his best effort. It definitely needed more salt.
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