Finding Kate Huntley

by Ragan, Theresa

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Kate tapped on the window. Minutes felt like hours before the window slid open. Although he couldn’t see them, he could hear two women talking and carrying on.

  “Push me up,” Kate said. Although the constant stream of orders were beginning to grate at his nerves, and he wondered why they weren’t entering through the front door, he did as she asked, using his hands to push her feet higher and still higher until Kate managed to crawl through the window.

  Looking upward, he waited for Kate to poke her head out the window and bark out another order, but instead, all he heard was a low familiar growl.

  Apparently Kate’s Auntie had three dogs, after all.

  Slowly, an inch at a time, he turned around until he was facing the dog. He tried to think. He couldn’t remember what “they” said about coming face to face with an angry dog. Look it in the eyes or don’t look it in the eyes? If you ran into a bear you were supposed to make yourself look bigger than the bear, but dogs were different. For one thing, they weren’t bears.

  As soon as his eyes met the Doberman’s, he knew he’d made a big mistake. The dog snarled, baring its sharp teeth as it did a little box-step forward.

  “Uhmm...good dog.”

  The snarling turned nasty.

  Jack looked slowly to his right. A four-foot fence surrounded the back yard, much smaller than the fence surrounding the property. He knew he couldn’t outrun the dog, but he had a good chance of making it over that fence in a single bound.

  “Jack,” Kate said. “Are you still there?”

  Too late. He’d already taken off. He made it to the fence in record time. So did the dog.

  Jack jumped.

  The dog did, too.

  If he’d known Dobermans could jump that high, he never would have run for it. The pool was his last chance. Odds were the dog could swim, so he grabbed the pool brush with the heavy-duty aluminum pole instead, and swung around, hitting the dog’s nose with the pole.

  The Doberman snarled as it took a step in Jack’s direction. Drool slid between its sharp teeth before hitting the ground in a nasty puddle.

  “That’s enough, Jack!” a woman shouted from the house.

  Jack didn’t know why the lady was yelling at him, but he wasn’t about to drop the pole.

  “Jack!” the woman said again, clapping her hands together. Finally, the dog withdrew and scampered over to the woman’s side, its tail tucked between its muscular hind legs.

  “The dog’s name is Jack,” Kate explained from inside the safety of the house.

  Jack put the pole aside after the woman disappeared around the back of the house with the dog. Although Kate wasn’t smiling outwardly, he could see an amused gleam in her eyes as he approached.

  “Sit down. Both of you,” Auntie said.

  Jack watched the woman Kate called Auntie skitter about the kitchen like a confused little mouse. It was almost comical watching Kate try to keep up with the woman, both trying to locate teacups and sugar cubes.

  Clearly, Auntie wasn’t used to playing host. Judging by the size of the house, and the expensive décor, she had maids and butlers to take care of details like serving tea.

  Auntie was a petite woman with intense deep-set, blue-grey eyes, a thin straight nose, and high cheekbones. Despite being in her late fifties or early sixties, and having been awakened in the dead of the night, the woman looked well put together in a silk robe and matching headband that pulled back her thick dark hair and showed off rosy cheeks.

  She pulled some sort of cake from the refrigerator and set out three plates and three forks.

  Kate must have realized the woman wasn’t going to slow down because Kate sighed and took a gentle hold of the woman’s shoulders, forcing the woman to take a seat. “Auntie, we’re fine. Sit for a moment, please, so I can talk to you.”

  Reluctantly, the woman sat across from Jack.

  Kate took a seat next to her. “I know how hard this must be for you. I tried to call earlier in the day but your number was out of order. I didn’t want to ring the bell because I knew you might panic and call the police.”

  The woman looked at Jack, averting her gaze when he looked her square in the eyes, unwilling to cower.

  “We must call the police,” Auntie said, her voice shrill. “This man is a criminal, a fugitive.”

  Kate stiffened. “I already told you, he’s innocent. He’s been set up and you’re the only person left in the world who can help us.”

  The teakettle made a soft hiss on the stove.

  “If you can’t help us or you don’t feel comfortable,” Kate added, “I understand and we’ll leave right now.”

  Auntie lifted her chin and turned toward Jack again. This time she held his gaze. Judging by the way she rubbed her hands together, she was nervous. He supposed her anxiety was warranted. Most people would be nervous to have a supposed killer in their midst. But something about the woman gave him the willies. He knew he should say something calming to break the ice, let the woman know he wouldn’t harm a flea, but something told him she knew that already.

  “I will help you,” the woman managed, her eyes still locked on Jack’s as she talked to Kate. “Your mother and father meant the world to me, how could I not?”

  Kate stood and kissed the woman on the cheek. “Thank you, Auntie. You won’t regret it, I swear.”

  Kate placed a teabag in each of the three cups sitting on the table before adding hot water. As she poured the water, she made a face at Jack, wrinkling her brow and mouthing words he couldn’t make out. He had a pretty good idea she was trying to get him to start a conversation with the woman, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Auntie made him feel uneasy. She looked harmless enough. Maybe it was the way her eyes looked fearful one moment and then angry the next, as if they’d messed up her plans in some way.

  “Jack,” Kate said, clearly exasperated. “Why don’t you tell Auntie about the first time Agent Harrison spoke to you about leaving for Haiti...how you were promoted, then framed for the murder of Dr. Forstin.”

  “If you two don’t mind,” he said, pushing away from the table and standing. “I could use a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. When I wake up,” he said, his gaze still on Auntie, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Jack was drying himself with a towel when Kate joined him in the guestroom where Auntie had said they could sleep.

  Kate plunked a hand on her hip. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  He removed the towel from his waist and used it to dry his hair. When he finished, he looked at her.

  It took her a moment to draw her gaze upward to his face.

  He winked.

  She crossed her arms tight against her chest. “What has gotten into you, Jack? Ever since you stepped into Auntie’s house you’ve been acting like a jerk.”

  “I don’t like her.”

  “That’s it?”

  “My instincts, those natural impulses you keep telling me to listen to, are screaming in my ear, telling me your Auntie is not who you think she is.”

  “Since when have you started using your instincts?”

  “Tonight,” he said, clearly agitated. “I started tonight.”

  “This is exactly the sort of thing I’m talking about. You don’t sound like yourself. You had a perfect opportunity to make Auntie feel comfortable about having a wanted criminal in her house, but instead you made her nervous.”

  “My instincts also tell me it would take more than one man to scare your Auntie. She has nerves of steel. Just look into those icy cold eyes of hers.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Kate said, gesturing toward the door. “She might hear you.”

  “What you sensed coming from Auntie was distaste, not distrust,” he said. “I’m telling you that woman is not happy about the two of us making a surprise visit. There’s something about her that’s not all there. Something strange is going on here. Trust me.”<
br />
  “I was beginning to trust you, Jack. Now I don’t know.”

  He shut off the lamp, climbed under the covers, and patted the other side of the bed. “Come on. Get in bed. If the police haven’t dragged me to jail by morning, we can talk then. My eyelids feel like cement blocks. My body feels like it has been used as a punching bag. If you feel like talking go ahead. I’m all ears.”

  Ten seconds later, the only thing Kate heard was the steady sound of Jack’s breathing. She went to her side of the bed, climbed on top of the mattress, and lay beside him. Turning toward him, she said, “I want to trust you, Jack.” She placed her hand over his heart and wished things could be different. She didn’t want to spend every minute on guard, every muscle tense, every nerve on alert. Ever since meeting Jack, she’d yearned for a gentler life where she would be free from fear of the unknown.

  Her father would have liked Jack, she decided, as the steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

  Chapter 24

  The sound of a chainsaw woke Jack with a start. He jumped out of bed. As the morning fog cleared from his head, he looked through the window and saw a team of gardeners at the side of the house, trimming trees and hedges.

  He hadn’t been dragged to jail, after all. He could only hope that was a good thing. Where was Kate? he wondered. Judging by the dents in the mattress, both sides of the bed had been slept in. He retrieved his shorts from the tufted leather wing chair in the corner of the room, and slid them on. A full night’s sleep had done him good...good enough to make him feel a wave of guilt at treating Kate’s Auntie rudely. It made sense that the woman would be wary of him, that she wouldn’t want a fugitive sleeping in her house. And yet, still, something about her niggled at the back of his mind. Auntie hadn’t asked Kate one question about where she had been all these years. Neither did she appear bowled over at seeing a girl she supposedly thought was dead. If his sister walked into the room right now, his heart would stop beating, and if he survived the heart attack, he would gladly shake the hand of the fugitive who had brought her back and kept her safe. He would have a million questions, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he had answers.

  Auntie, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed the least bit fazed that Kate showed up in the dead of night and was in her kitchen drinking tea.

  As he moved toward the mirror hanging above the dresser, Jack looked around for his shirt. He ruffled his fingers through his hair. The room, he noticed in the morning light, was lavishly decorated with antique mahogany furniture, heavily carved framed mirrors, and a large marble-top dresser. The base of the bedside lamps were bronzed statues with a cherub and flower design. Although he wasn’t an antique connoisseur by any means, he’d seen enough collectibles confiscated from homes of drug dealers and other criminals of great wealth to know an antique when he saw one. For someone who ran a nonprofit organization, the woman sure did live the good life. A gilt-framed picture of Auntie huddled up close with the Bush family sat on the dresser next to an impressive cobalt and bronze decorative urn. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were ashes inside, but he really didn’t want to know, so he didn’t look. Another picture of Auntie with George Clooney hung on the wall next to the mirror. He picked up a decorative porcelain vase at the same time the door to the bedroom opened.

  Jack set the vase down, relieved to see Kate looking well. Her hair was swept back out of her face and clipped in the back. She sported a brown form-fitting tracksuit with long sleeves and a drawstring waistband. She held a pile of folded clothing in her hands.

  “You look great,” he told her.

  “Thanks. Auntie and I wear the same size. Did you sleep well?”

  He nodded, but he didn’t like the awkward stiffness floating between them. For the first time since he’d met Kate, he felt like a stranger standing before her. Maybe because she looked so put together. Or was it because she wasn’t ordering him around or cursing at him? Whatever the reason, it was downright unnerving.

  Her eyes had lost some of their empty hollowness and the two or three pounds she’d gained since coming to the States gave her a healthy glow. He had a feeling Kate had no idea how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

  “I’m sorry about last night.” He exhaled. “I was tired. I shouldn’t have been so hard on the woman.”

  “I told Auntie how exhausted you were. She understands.” Kate moved toward him and handed him the pile of clothes she was holding: a pair of jeans and a couple of clean shirts. “It turns out that Auntie is hosting a fundraiser tonight, right here at the house. She’s invited us to attend.”

  Jack set the clothes on the edge of the dresser and gave her a crooked, disbelieving smile. “As your Auntie reminded me last night, I’m a fugitive. I don’t think now is a good time for me to attend any parties.”

  She brushed warm fingers over his bare arm. “Her nephew is away in Europe. She said you could borrow his clothes. We could dye your hair back to its original color.”

  “Kate.”

  She came closer and kissed his shoulder. Her mouth made a downward trail across his collarbone. His blood warmed. Shivers coursed through his veins.

  “These people won’t recognize you because they don’t watch the news,” she said between kisses. “They spend their days on the golf course and in the best salons, listening to tranquil music while having their toes painted. Come on, Jack. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’ll show you fun.” He picked her up by the waist and brought her to the bed.

  She laughed. “Jack. We can’t.”

  He pulled a condom from his front pocket and said, “Oh, yes. We can.”

  She laughed again.

  He liked the sound of her laughter, liked the way her eyes danced as she threw her head back.

  He locked the door, stripped himself of his shorts and came at her like an animal stalking its prey.

  She wriggled on the bed, but she didn’t try to escape. He took hold of her ankles and dragged her to the end of the mattress until she was close enough where he could grab hold of the waistband of her pants and slide them off of her.

  Despite being half naked, her eyes still held a heavy dose of amusement. “Do you mean to tell me that everything you owned was left on that plane, including your computer, but somehow you managed to hang on to a condom?”

  “I don’t mean to tell you anything. I mean to show you.”

  “So Jack Coffey has a wild side, after all?”

  “Wild is my middle name. I thought I already showed you that the other day.” He unzipped her sweatshirt and helped her out of it. “There,” he said, gazing down at her. “That’s better.”

  She smiled as she reached for him. “I like this side of you, Jack. I think you’ve finally shed a layer of your stiff outer shell.”

  As he crawled on top of her, she pushed herself away from the footboard and toward the headboard.

  He used his arms and legs to keep propped above her, leaving a bit of space between their bodies. The tips of her breasts grazed his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh so freely before today,” he told her, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Her fingers brushed over his chest, her gaze following their path. She looked to his mouth. “Kiss me, will you?”

  “Whatever you say.” He covered her mouth with his and kissed her thoroughly this time, his mouth warm, his tongue hot. With a whispered moan, she curled her arms around his neck and pressed her hips closer. He kissed her throat, her cheek, her ear. Blood flowed hot through her veins, every inch of her craving his touch. She’d never felt as if she needed anyone like she needed Jack.

  “Tell me you want me,” he said, the sound of his husky voice arousing her almost as much as having his body pressed against hers.

  “I want you.”

  He nibbled her ear. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “Jack,” she said in a breathless whisper, the tip of her tongue grazing his jaw. “I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life for you to find me, hold me, and m
ake love to me.”

  Bringing his mouth back to hers, he coaxed her lips open so he could kiss her deeply while his fingers slid downward over her hips and between her thighs. His warm breath spilled across her neck and shoulders. “What are you feeling now?” he asked, his voice still a husky whisper.

  “Hot,” she said. “Alive.”

  His hand remained between her legs, stroking and making her whimper as she urged him onward. Devilish charm lit up his eyes as he took hold of her wrists and pushed her arms back, flat against the soft mattress.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “When I said I wanted you, I meant now.”

  A crooked grin curved his lips before he lowered his head and nibbled at her ear. “What is it you want exactly?”

  “You,” she said, her voice lined with frustration. “I want you.”

  “How badly do you want me?”

  “Badly enough to start cursing if you don’t get down to business soon.”

  Satisfied, he let go of her wrists. He pushed himself to his knees and slipped on the condom. His muscles flexed. She would never get tired of looking at Jack Coffey. When he finished sliding on the condom, he looked down at her.

  Her patience had worn thin. She wriggled against him, making him grin as his fingers trailed softly over her body, exploring. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

  “You’re not playing fair.”

  “This isn’t a game.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not a game.” Her palm brushed against his jaw. She liked to be the one in charge, but with Jack it was different. For Jack, she would do almost anything, and in that instant, as she looked into his eyes, she realized he already knew that.

  Her fingers pressed into his buttocks, splayed against his backside, as he entered her. There was no holding back for either of them. He finally caved, giving her what she wanted, giving until she cried out softly as her body quivered beneath him. Jack Coffey had risked his life to bring her home. He would do anything to protect her. He believed in her, and he loved her. He made her feel beautiful and alive.