“I just don’t.”
A sinking feeling took some of the day’s joy away, but his life was his own, and she had to respect that—even if she didn’t understand it. She changed the subject.
“How about you?” she asked. “Have you ever been married?”
“Nope.”
“Ever come close?”
“Once.”
The sound of rushing water was louder now, and taking her hand, Jace guided her down a steep incline.
“And?” she prompted.
“And it didn’t work out.”
When he didn’t offer more, she backed away from the topic. That didn’t stop her from wondering why he hadn’t made it to the altar. And what woman in her right mind would let a man like Jace get away?
She answered her own question. She had. And suddenly, she knew that might’ve been the biggest mistake she’d ever made. She was part of a prestigious firm—for the moment, anyway—but Stuart had been right when he’d implied that there was more to life than practicing law.
When they reached the bottom where the creek fanned out then rushed down through rocks and fallen timber, Jace smiled and gestured at their surroundings. “We’re here.”
Awestruck, Abbie took in the massive black rock formation and the waters spilling forty feet down to the sun-struck pool at its base. “How beautiful,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have guessed there was a waterfall this high in the area.”
“The terrain’s deceptive.”
It certainly was. Until now, she hadn’t realized that his home was situated on a hill. “Did you know it was here when you bought the house?”
“Sure. It was one of the selling points.”
“And you bought it so you could fish whenever you wanted.”
“No, I bought it so I could look whenever I wanted.”
A warm glow suffused her, and again, Abbie glimpsed the man he was inside. Water rushed and babbled in the stillness, and her heart beat fast when he shifted his gaze from the waterfall to her. She took in the thick shag of black hair grazing his forehead and brushing his collar…dropped her gaze to the faint beard shadow that never quite left his strong jaw…settled on the sensual curve of his mouth. And that tummy-dropping, Ferris wheel-falling feeling struck her full force when she saw the desire in his eyes.
“We have to stop this,” she said, feeling her pulse race as he walked to her.
“I agree,” he murmured. “Let’s do that. Tomorrow.”
The long, wet kisses and intimate touching were so intoxicating, by the time an unnatural sound filtered through the white-noise rush of the waterfall and their heavy breathing, Jace’s hand was under her sweater and unsnapping her bra. Abbie tore her lips from his. “That’s my cell phone.”
“Let it ring,” Jace said hoarsely, then covered her mouth with his again.
Abbie’s heart pounded. She wanted to let it ring. With everything in her, she wanted to. But only a handful of people had her cell number and they didn’t call unless it was important. She broke from the kiss again. “Just let me check the number.”
Releasing a blast of air, Jace slid his hand from under her sweater. But he didn’t step away and for that, Abbie was thankful. Quickly pulling the phone from her pocket, she checked the ID window, then begged him with a look. “It’s Stuart again.”
Jace nodded. “Take the call.” Then he did step away.
“Stuart,” she said in a breathy rush when she’d flipped her phone open. “Good afternoon.”
“It’s good morning here,” he said, his voice strong and sure. “I was just about to leave you a message. I have more news, and it seems to confirm the claim of that young man who worked with Long.”
“Then he did see Danny in the street?” Though she’d ordered herself to put that back-of-the-neck feeling to rest, she still hadn’t been one hundred percent successful.
“Yes. I didn’t mention it, but there was another questionable envelope in the stack with your home mail yesterday, and I turned it over to the detectives. Powell just phoned. There were no prints, but again, the saliva on the envelope was Long’s.”
It bothered her for a moment that he was hiding his prints but leaving his saliva. Then she considered that he might not have been able to resist licking the envelope. “Was there a message in the card?”
When he hesitated, she knew there was. “Stuart, what did it say?”
“It said, ‘Patiently Waiting.’”
Chills raised the hairs on her arms.
“Abbie, he’s simply casting out nets—trying to find you, or hoping these cards are forwarded. Remember, he’s all about power. He gained power by killing that young woman, exerted power over the public by shocking them with his butchery and now he’s using that power on you—making you worry even when he can’t get to you. Don’t let him.”
Good advice, but impossible to follow. She’d been so wired for so long that, even when Danny’s threats were absent on a conscious level, subconsciously he was always with her. “I take it he hasn’t been back to his apartment yet.”
“No, but as soon as he does, he’ll be charged.” His voice grew tentative. “Of course, this means it would be best if you stayed where you are until that happens. We want you to be safe when you come back.”
Abbie looked over at Jace, drawn to his rugged profile, and the broad shoulders that had taken on her problems. Drawn to the caring he hid behind his tough-guy image. “Actually,” she murmured, “I think I’d like to stay on a while longer if you can spare me at the firm.”
Stuart’s voice gentled. “I hear something in your voice, my girl. Have you found someone?”
“No,” she replied, almost afraid to say the words. “I think I’ve refound someone.”
Danny hung back from the checkout lines, scanning the frazzled store clerks as they scanned and beeped their little hearts out. The store was a big one—one of those places that advertised one-stop shopping and had twenty cash registers going on a busy night. He liked these stores. They were always hectic, and the checkout people were so anxious to clear customers from their lines, they didn’t have time to notice or care what anyone bought.
He pushed his cart into a line, then—just in case—he added a few tabloids to disguise his purchases.
He felt a burst of anger when he noticed a juicy celebrity rape case splashed on one of the covers.
They’d tried to hang a rape on him, too, but it hadn’t been rape. Rape was sinful. But after finding out she was used goods, sex was the perfect way to get her lying down on that beach. It was one thing for a woman to flaunt her sins like that Vegas whore. No guy would expect much. But a pretty girl pretending to be pure was deceitful and vicious and cruel and wrong!
Aware that he was grinding his teeth, Danny relaxed and pushed his cart forward in line. Then he unloaded his purchases and opened his wallet as the pregnant girl with the nasty blue eye shadow shoved his things through the scanner.
Scissors. Beep.
Dark blue vinyl tape, black spray paint. Beep, beep.
Penn State sweatshirt, tabloids, potato chips. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
Baseball bat. Beep.
That night as Jace sat at the computer in his office scanning his e-mails and deleting spam, his nerves were so strung out he could barely function. Touching her, kissing her at the waterfall had him wanting her all the more, and from the way she’d responded he knew the feeling was mutual. But after McMillain’s call, there was no going back to that moment. Worse, in the back of his mind a clock was ticking.
His peripheral vision picked up movement to his right, and Jace glanced up.
“Hi,” she said from the doorway.
“Hi.” She was all dark eyes, model’s cheekbones and Pantene hair after her shower.
“Sorry to bother you, but I just put the kettle on for tea and thought I’d ask if you wanted something from the kitchen.”
“No, thanks.” Nothing in his kitchen was going to fix what ailed him tonight—unl
ess it was her. “I’ll just finish up and give you back your room.”
“There’s no rush. This is your space, not mine. And actually…that’s what I came in here to say.” She continued in a cautious voice. “I’m moving back to my dad’s place.”
Everything in Jace went stone still. That’s why that clock was ticking. McMillain’s latest assurance that Long was still in L.A. had finally convinced her. But her tone had said something else, too—something they’d both known for days. Things were getting too complicated between them.
“After all,” she went on, “the danger’s over—here in Laurel Ridge, anyway. And the honeymooners will be home soon. Dad phoned from Freeport a little while ago.”
Shutting down the computer, Jace locked his gaze on her, a niggling concern bugging him again. And this one had nothing to do with her leaving.
Even though another card had been delivered to Abbie’s L.A. apartment, and someone who knew Long had supposedly spoken to him, no one else had seen him. If Long was as manipulative as Abbie said, this could all be a cleverly choreographed distraction to make her drop her guard. Jace held back a sigh. Or was he, once again, just looking for an excuse to keep her with him a while longer?
“Okay, your dad’s coming home soon. Why not stay until then? You’re comfortable here, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but you’ve been running yourself ragged, looking out for me, taking me to the post office, driving me to my dad’s house for a daily walk-through. It’s time I gave you back your life.” She hesitated. “Betty said you’re a workaholic. You haven’t been doing much of that since I arrived.”
“And you think I’m missing it?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not so far.”
She didn’t reply, just stood there looking too good and too sweet and too important for his peace of mind.
Jace pushed to his feet. “Maybe I do want something from the kitchen. I think there’s ice cream in the freezer. Do you like choc—”
“Oh, Lord, no more sugar,” she breathed. “I have to stop eating like this. Cake, ice cream, fried foods. No wonder I can’t sleep.”
“Okay,” he replied, though he doubted that her diet alone was keeping her up nights. “I’ll pass, too. I guess we have been hitting the sweets pretty hard.”
That wasn’t the half of it, Abbie thought as he followed her to the kitchen. They’d been hitting everything hard— especially each other—and they needed to stop.
Still, her interest in his love life overrode good sense as Jace poured ice water for himself and she waited for the teakettle to whistle. His being with someone else stung her in a way that Collin’s past never had. But as darkness shaded the windows, and that unyielding awareness continued to dog them, she still wanted to know.
“We never finished our conversation this afternoon,” she said, breaking the silence.
“What conversation?”
“You were about to tell me why you never made it to the altar.”
Snapping the top on the pitcher, he walked back to the refrigerator. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Is it a deep, dark secret?”
“It’s not deep or dark.” He slid the pitcher on the shelf and closed the door. “It’s just not important.”
“Then tell me what happened. You owe me a story.”
Clearly annoyed that she kept on pushing, he stared pointedly.
“Come on, Rogan,” she said, refusing to back down. “I showed you mine. Now you show me yours.”
Chapter 11
“You’ve already seen mine.”
“You know what I mean. Was it Carol? The woman who phoned your office?”
Muttering something about being on a damn witness stand, Jace carried his ice water to the bar where Abbie stood, then set it beside her cup.
“No, she was just someone who couldn’t handle the long hours I worked while Ty and I were building our business. She skipped out. End of story.” He sipped from his glass. “Other than that, I’ve never found anyone crazy enough to want the Rogan name.”
His off-the-cuff statement hit her in a tender place, and Abbie added one more woman to the list of those who’d walked away from him. No wonder Betty had said he was slow to trust. “I can understand why she didn’t like the long hours. No woman wants to come in second in any man’s life.”
“In time, I would’ve made sure that she came first. But she couldn’t see that I needed to build something that—” He looked reluctant to finish, then finally said, “Something that would give people more to talk about than the revolving door on a run-down trailer.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Why would I? If she’d been the right woman, she would’ve seen it on her own.”
The teakettle shrilled.
Abbie took her cup to the countertop beside the range, then shut off the burner, poured hot water over her tea bag and let it steep. “Did you love her?” she asked quietly.
“I cared. I don’t know if I loved her.”
But if the woman would’ve eventually been first in his life, didn’t that mean he must have loved her? “Do you still think about her?”
Impatient now, Jace walked over, took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t think about her. I don’t dream about her, and I don’t want her. What man with a pulse could want any other woman when he was standing next to you?”
Abbie held her breath, feeling the tumbling energy in the air intensify. She’d felt it all evening, the surreal feeling of walking on eggshells and waiting for him to reach for her. But even as her pulse quickened, she knew if they made love again, restraint would go right out the window. They would fall into each other’s arms every time a light bulb flickered or a bird flew by. And making love had to mean something or it wasn’t worth anything. She needed more from him than an admission of physical needs.
She kept her voice low. “That’s a very flattering thing to say to a woman who’s not wearing makeup.”
“No, it’s a dangerous thing to say. But I needed to say it.” He traced her cheek with his index finger, stroked downward to her lips. “As for makeup,” he added, dropping his voice, too. “You don’t need it. I like seeing exactly who you are. Come upstairs with me.”
Abbie’s heart thudded in her chest. Before, hormones and erratic pulses had taken them where they wanted to go. Now, with his frank invitation, he wanted her to choose.
“If I did… If I went upstairs with you…what would it mean?”
A dozen thoughts moved through his compelling gaze, but he didn’t appear to like any of them. “Why does it have to mean something? Isn’t it enough that we both want it?”
Slowly, regretfully, she shook her head.
“It was enough for you a few nights ago.”
Abbie felt her jaw sag. Then she got hurt and angry, and jerked out of his hold. “Maybe you should call Carol. I think she has exactly what you’re looking for.”
Swearing softly, Jace reached for her again but she shrugged him away. “Look, that didn’t come out right. It’s not what I meant.”
Really? Or had he said precisely what he was feeling. Either way, the words were out, and it was too late to take them back.
Abbie strode out of the kitchen and into the entryway— kept moving through the great room, even though he called her name.
He caught up with her at the doorway to his office and snared her hand. “Dammit, Abbie, what do you want from me? A promise to phone or e-mail you every day after you go back to L.A.? Maybe send flowers or a poem once in a while?”
Her tears were close, but she refused to let them fall. “If you’re finished with the work you were doing on your computer, I’d like to turn in.”
“Let’s talk about this.”
“Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. Neither of us will sleep with this hanging over our heads. Maybe you could start by calling me a jerk, and we can go from there.”
“All right, you’
re a jerk. Now it’s my turn to ask. What do you want from me?”
For a long moment, he just stared down at her. Then he sagged back against the doorway, his expression grave. “Beyond friendship and sex? I don’t know. You’ve got a life somewhere else, Abbie. When I think of you, I only think in terms of what’s going on in the moment. Anything more than that…” He paused. “You’re not being honest with yourself if you think either of us wants more.”
It was a struggle, but she kept her face composed. She wouldn’t humiliate herself by admitting that maybe she did.
“You said the law is your life,” Jace went on. “Well, my business is mine. Betty was right. I am a workaholic. I’m just on hiatus right now. There’s always something that needs to be done, and no one takes as much care with the job as the man who has the most to lose.” An ironic look touched his features. “Know what? With the exception of your father’s nasty tirade, we could’ve had this same discussion fourteen years ago.”
Abbie pressed her back to the right side of the doorway as reality slipped in. Yes, they could have. Back then, their lives had been on different tracks, too—tracks that would never have met again if not for the Mardi Gras celebration and Jace’s lingering bitterness toward her father.
“Your work is it? You honestly have no desire at all to have a family?”
He shook his head, and like cautious bookends, they held each other’s gazes, their futures dangling in the narrow space between them. “None.”
“How sad,” she said quietly. “I can’t think of anyone more suited to raising kids. Ty was so…so broken after your mother left. He never would’ve made it if it hadn’t been for you. That’s what parents do. They offer love and support, and you’ve been doing it for years.”
“That has nothing to do with bringing my own flesh and blood into the world.”
Abbie studied him quizzically, centering on the words own, flesh and blood. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what was wrong with his flesh and blood when she realized that she already knew.
“You don’t want to pass along bloodlines you’re unsure of.”
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