The Unsung Hero

by Samantha James

  "Jason, you make a living juggling words around on paper. And maybe once you found out I was a tried-and-true romance lover you thought I'd get a kick out of hearing what every woman secretly dreams of." She hesitated. "And I did... I mean I do...but I also know you're telling me what you think I want to hear. What I mean is... how many men tell a woman they've known only a matter of weeks that she's the woman of his dreams!"

  "I do." There was no trace of laughter in his face as his eyes bored into hers.

  Samantha's breath caught at the fierce blaze in his eyes, a blaze that only made her quiveringly aware of the lean strength of the body so close to her own. Jason did not touch her anywhere, yet she couldn't have been more aware of the heat and hardness of him had they been wrapped in an embrace only lovers assume. Why did he have to be so utterly irresistible? She fought to keep hold of her thoughts as she tried to ease away from him.

  "Me and how many other women?" she refuted desperately.

  "None."

  The note of gravity in his voice stunned her. She felt herself weaken. Gullible, that's what she was. But she actually wanted to believe him. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" she argued weakly. "Not even your wife?" She swallowed as Jason stiffened. "I mean your ex-wife?"

  She wasn't prepared when he sat up abruptly. His forearms rested on his knees as he stared out to sea. "Why should I?" He laughed, a short bitter sound that held no mirth. "She had plenty of other men around to tell her."

  She stared at him, not sure what to make of his reaction. His face hardened, a face that was foreign to her and seemed totally alien to his nature. What was he thinking? Painful memories perhaps? Despite the warmth of the sun's shimmering rays beating down on her shoulders, she shivered. The profile so coolly presented to her seemed cold, almost hard. He seemed a different man from the teasing easygoing charmer she'd come to know . . . and love?

  A painful ache closed her throat, making the words difficult. "You must have loved her very much."

  "Love was the last thing she wanted, or needed, from me." He almost spat the words. He seemed on the verge of saying more, but then his mouth clamped shut and his jaw tightened. "Look, can we please—"

  "I know," she interrupted as lightly as she could. "We went through this just the other day, remember?" Her eyes seemed to burn as she glanced over at him. "End of subject. Closed, period." She attempted a laugh, but it ended up a soft sigh instead. "Now, am I a perceptive person or not?" Aware of Jason's eyes on her, she rose and began to repack the hamper. Her movements were mechanical, her mind a million miles away from what she was doing. All this time she'd thought Jason didn't believe in love—-her kind of love—-but he must have been in love with his wife for him to react like this. The subject was a volatile one, that much was clear. The most painful ones usually were, she realized sadly. She knew from experience. She'd spent many a sleepless night pondering what had gone wrong with her marriage, and it had taken a long time to admit that she and Alan had never been right for each other in the first place. He was sweet and kind, but he'd never really been aware of her needs and her wants.

  But she was convinced Jason's anger was only a mask. Maybe he had never wanted the divorce to begin with. Maybe he was secretly hoping that someday he and his ex-wife could get back together. Maybe... She closed her eyes against the dagger of thought. The possibilities were endless and she didn't want to think of them.

  "Samantha." He reached out and touched her arm as she bent to shake the sand out of the blanket. "Don't take this the wrong way."

  She forced a smile but gently shook off his touch. "I'm not," she said, folding the blanket.

  "You are. I can see it in your eyes." This time his fingers curled around her wrist in a grip that wouldn't be denied. The blanket dropped to the ground as he pulled her back down beside him. They faced each other on the sand, knees bent and nearly touching. "My ex-wife doesn't mean a thing to me, Samantha," he said fiercely. "Even in the beginning—"

  "You don't have to explain, Jason." Her eyes grew troubled as she looked up at him. He looked regretful, grim and oddly determined. He opened his mouth but one of her hands reached up to cover it. She hesitated, not sure how to explain. If Jason had chosen to confide in her about the whys and wherefores of his divorce when they had first met, she might have felt differently. Even when she'd found out about his beautiful wife, she hadn't wanted to think about her. She hadn't let herself think about her. But as it stood right now, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her any more than she was hurting right now.

  "Samantha." His hand reached up to cover hers where it still lay against his mouth. He pressed a scalding kiss to her palm before dropping it to his side, her fingers twined tightly in his. "I'll admit I don't like talking about Natalie, but it's not for the reason you think."

  "Jason," she said, gently withdrawing her hand and gathering all her courage, "I'm not...the sort of woman you're usually attracted to, am I?"

  She glanced up to find a look of surprise on his face. "Exactly what kind of woman do you think that is?" he asked in a moment.

  "Oh, I don't know." She failed miserably in matching his bantering tone. "The usual blond Hollywood bombshell or long-legged dark-haired vixen." She could have cheerfully buried her head in the sand when the words came out sounding strangely like a wail. Indeed her gaze dropped, and she traced idle patterns in the sand. A square. A circle. A tiny heart.

  "I'm well acquainted with the type, yes. All glitter and dazzle and not the slightest bit of warmth." Despite the teasing tone, she suspected there was more than a grain of truth in the words. "All shallow and empty-headed—" his voice dropped suddenly, playing across her skin like the elusive brush of a feather "—and all in the past." He lowered his voice even further. "Actually, I think it's time I looked for a woman to stimulate my intellect... and now that I've found her, there's only one woman in my future from now on. Believe me, Samantha, glamour and glitz doesn't have a thing on you."

  Samantha nearly groaned. Swinging away from him, she drew her knees up and watched a pair of gulls struggle against a current of wind. "Jason, please!" She pushed her hair back away from her face. "I'm serious. I'm not sophisticated or worldly but I wasn't born yesterday. I don't fit the mold and we both know it! Why are you even bothering with me?"

  The words seemed to surprise Jason as much as they did her. She glanced over and caught the tentative expression on his face. But when he laughed, she could have cried.

  "Do you have to ask?" A warm hand touched the curve of her cheek and turned her face to him. "After an honest forthright statement like that, do you really need to ask?" His smile deepened. "But you're right, you're not like anyone I've ever known before." His eyes touched on every facet of her features, his eyes so warm and soft she felt her heart lurch in her chest.

  His hand cupped her chin gently. "Do you know how it feels to come outside after a spring rain and find the sun shining brightly? It's like looking at the world after a gauzy veil has been lifted, seeing everything through a fresh set of eyes. Everything is bright and golden, glistening in the sun, and the air is sweet and pure. That's the first thing I noticed about you, Samantha. You're fresh and unspoiled, almost as innocent as those children who helped us build the sandcastle. It's like—like you haven't learned yet how harsh life can sometimes be."

  But she had. She had known pain when her father walked out on her and never came back. And later, when she'd finally recognized that she and Alan could never make it together, she had known hurt and despair, even a sense of failure. But she listened intently, his husky voice blending with the almost mesmerizing warmth of his eyes.

  "It's been a long time since I've known anyone like you," he finished softly, looking deeply into her eyes. "Far too long."

  Something inside her seemed to flower and grow. The slanting golden rays of the sun touched his head. His hair shone with dark luster, and she ached with the need to smooth the wind-ruffled strands that fell on his forehead. Her hand lifted to one
broad shoulder and swayed toward him, her eyes soft and luminous. "Jason..."

  But whatever she might have said was never spoken. The quiet moment of intimacy was broken when a bright yellow Frisbee whizzed by, narrowly missing their heads. Jason pulled his hand away from her face and sighed, casting a disgruntled eye toward a pair of teenage boys. A reluctant smile tipped his mouth as he got to his feet and extended a hand to her. "How would you like to go for a drive?"

  Samantha nodded. Even if she'd wanted to refuse, she couldn't have said so. For in that moment when their eyes had met so intently, the most amazing thought had come crashing into her mind. She'd told herself over and over this past week that a woman would have to be crazy to fall in love with a man like Jason.

  And she was definitely feeling a little bit crazy.

  The giddy feeling lasted while they picked their way up the narrow trail that led from the beach. They decided to drop off the hamper and blanket at Samantha's before leaving.

  "Whose car are we taking?" she asked.

  "Not your little Volkswagen," Jason commented dryly. "I don't care to have my knees wrapped around my shoulders for the rest of my life."

  "Oh, come on," she protested as they crossed the patio. "It's not that bad, at least not in the front seat."

  His eyes took on a sudden gleam. "Come to think of it, the back seat doesn't sound so bad after all, except I think we're getting a little old for that kind of thing."

  His words inspired a vivid picture in her mind of entwined limbs that sent her pulse racing. "Maybe we should take your car instead," she muttered.

  A low chuckle sounded behind her as Jason opened the front door for her. "Sounding better and better all the time," he murmured as she brushed by him.

  Samantha laughed shakily but made no comment. She looked back over her shoulder as he stopped near the entry way, an odd look on his face. "What is it?" she asked.

  He looked down at the doorknob. "Funny," he said. "I could have sworn I saw you lock that door."

  "I thought I did, too." With a shrug she went on into the dining room and put the hamper on the table. She was about to turn back to him when a blurring motion caught her eye.

  "Samantha! How are you, sweetheart?"

  The next thing she knew a warm pair of arms enfolded her in a snug hug and an equally warm kiss was pressed on her mouth. When her head cleared she found Alan's delighted face swimming in front of her eyes.

  Something akin to shock washed through her. Jason stiffened behind her, and she could sense his cold disapproval. The feeling went through her like a razor-sharp rapier, while Alan's laughing blue eyes danced before her. She froze, wishing she could disappear into the earth below, but she was caught between the two men like a mouse in a trap.

  Alan finally looked over her shoulder at Jason, a smile creasing his face. In his typical friendly manner, he brushed by Samantha's still figure and thrust a hand into Jason's, pumping it vigorously.

  "Alan Monroe here," he greeted Jason enthusiastically. "And you are... ?"

  Samantha's eyes flitted to Jason's stern face, her only movement so far. Never in her life had she seen anyone who looked so coldly forbidding. He didn't even bother to speak to Alan. Instead his icy gaze fixed itself on her. "Alan Monroe," he repeated in a cutting tone. His eyes seemed to rake over her. "Your— brother?"

  Alan finally seemed to have noticed Jason's cold reception. "Uh...not exactly." He retreated a step before the taller man to stand at Samantha's side, casting her an uncomfortably quizzical look.

  Samantha swallowed. Alan was leaving it up to her, as he rightly should. Oh, but to be a coward and run with her tail between her legs!

  Unfortunately, that wasn't one of her choices.

  She made a vague gesture between the two men. "Alan, this is Jason Armstrong. Jason, this is Alan--" she cleared her throat "--my ex-husband."

  Chapter 8

  The silence that followed was like a bomb blast. "Your ex-husband," Jason finally repeated. "Somehow I don't seem to recall you ever telling me you were once married." His voice was chillingly polite as his gaze traveled from Alan to Samantha and back again. "Do you mind telling me how you got in here?" he finally asked Alan pointedly.

  Samantha shivered at the contempt in his eyes. She'd never seen Jason angry before, and from the harsh expression on his face, she didn't think she'd ever want to see it happen again. He looked very big and powerful, and yes, even rather dangerous, as he leaned against the door frame of her dining room.

  Alan broke the uncomfortable silence. "Since Sam wasn't here, I knew she wouldn't mind if I let myself in," he said with an uneasy glance at Jason. "I used the key she gave me when I stayed here last spring."

  Samantha's heart sank to her feet. Of all the things for Alan to say!

  He seemed to have realized it, too. He attempted a grin, ending up with a sickly looking smile at best. "Sam wasn't here of course."

  "Of course," Jason echoed coldly. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest and looked directly at the shorter man. "I hope you weren't planning on spending the night, because three in a bed can be rather crowded." A forced grin twisted his lips as his eyes ran leeringly over Samantha's figure. "And I can guarantee Samantha is going to have her hands full."

  Samantha gasped at the blatant implication. Poor Alan didn't seem to know what to make of it. "Ah, Sam--I was just on my way to Coos Bay and I thought I'd stop and see how you were.. .but I can see you're fine." He backed toward the front door, running a shaky hand through his sandy curls. "Maybe now is as good a time as any to return this—" He fumbled in his pocket and thrust a key into her palm, then turned and practically ran from the house. A moment later the roar Of a car engine could be heard.

  Samantha's fingers clutched the cold metal of the key. She felt like flinging it into Jason's face. His audacious speech infuriated her, and she drew herself up proudly. "You had no right to do that," she said clearly, her eyes a vivid shade of blue in her pale face. "No right to be so rude! No right to insinuate that we... that we..." Her face reddened, and she stumbled over the words.

  "That we're sleeping together?" he finished for her. Amusement flared in his eyes for an instant, before a harsh glitter replaced it once more. "Why shouldn't I?" he asked moodily. "It's going to happen sooner or later. You've led me on a merry chase for long enough, and I think it's time it ended."

  The belligerence in his tone was at complete odds with the strange light in his eyes as they ran boldly over her slim figure, lingering on the heaving motion of her breasts beneath the thin material.

  Samantha's heart beat thunderously in her chest, but solely from anger, she told herself. She was angry with Jason, furious that he'd had the nerve to let Alan believe they were lovers. But somehow the woman inside her couldn't help but respond to that wholly masculine look.

  She backed away from him, her hands gripping the back of a chair for support. "You think you're irresistible, don't you?" she flung at him. Her pulse pounded furiously as he straightened from the doorway and shortened the distance between them. "That all you have to do is crook your little finger, just like all the heroes in your books, and every woman within a hundred-mile radius will be at your beck and call..." The words were choked off as he came closer yet.

  Her knees went weak as he rounded the chair and gripped her bare shoulders. "Why are you fighting it, Samantha?" His voice was heart-meltingly tender, a soothing caress on the frazzled ends of her temper. "You want me as much as I want you. Why can't you admit it?"

  His eyes dropped to where her breath was coming in short hard bursts. Her own closed briefly--the mere touch of his hands had done that! She didn't want to be forced into something she wasn't sure she was ready for.

  "Don't," she whispered unsteadily. "I can't... we want different things, Jason." An exquisite sensation spiraled through her as his hands traced delicious circles on her upper arms, her shoulders, wherever they touched. His mouth brushed hers, the caress maddeningly elusive as she was lifted and
deposited gently on the sofa. His hard body pressed hers into the cushions. Her hands curled into fists at his shoulders as she fought the urge to slide her hands into the thick blackness of his hair. She moaned softly. "Jason, please... I can't... I just can't."

  She was totally unprepared for the effect her words had on him. That warmly tormenting mouth ceased its restless exploration of her face and neck. Jason raised his head to look at her, and suddenly there was a tempest raging in his eyes.

  "You mean you won't," he said harshly. He pulled away from her and stood up abruptly. "Is it Alex? Are you still in love with him? Is that the real reason he still has a key to your house?" He laughed bitterly. "You couldn't live together but you can still love together?"

  Samantha jumped up, now as furious as he. "His name is Alan," she reminded him icily. "And this has nothing to do with him. In fact, I completely forgot about him having a key!" She glared at him. "He's a salesman for a pharmaceutical firm in Portland but sometimes he has business in other parts of the state. He had to make some contacts in this area last spring so I let him spend a few nights here. It was during spring vacation and I was spending the week with my mother in Astoria! Now are you satisfied?"

  "Why didn't you ever tell me you'd been married?"

  That was a very good question indeed. She averted her eyes and sat down abruptly. "You never asked," she muttered.

  Jason's mouth tightened. "What an answer. You could have told me, you know. You should have!" he accused in the same tone. "You knew what was happening between us—"

  "What was happening between us!" It was her turn to glare at him accusingly. "I know you've been trying to weasel your way into my bed from the start! And you knew from the start I could never settle for just sex and you made it very plain that was all you were about to offer! Now tell me--tell me chapter and verse--why I should have told you about my ex-husband when you've stated several times that you didn't want to talk about your ex-wife!" She sniffed indignantly. "I'm supposed to confess all while you get to sit back and just listen? That's not the way it works, Jason Armstrong!"