"Here's my address and phone number. If your aunt should decide she wants to talk about your uncle's last moments, please tell her to call me."
She took leave of Mrs. Russ, who still confused her with a police officer. Alex made his farewells at the same time and accompanied her outside.
"You look tired," he said quietly, searching her face as he escorted her to the MG. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
"Not much."
She leaned a hip against the car, trying to decide whether to tell him about the missing photo. The more she shared with him, she decided, the more entangled they became. Better to let the police sort it all out.
"Come back to Georgetown with me," he urged, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's have dinner and talk about what happened last night. What happened at Bella Vista, as well."
She jerked away from his hand. How could he do this? she wondered. How could he show such patience and consideration for Mrs. Russ, and such blind obstinacy with Jo?
"No, Alex. We're not having dinner, and we're not going to talk. Not anymore."
The flat refusal took him aback. "We have to work through that misunderstanding at Bella Vista and put it behind us, Joanna."
"It wasn't a misunderstanding. Not on my part. anyway. I read your signals loud and clear. You just refused to read mine. It's over between us. You have to accept that."
"No, I don't."
This time it was Jo who blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's not over, darling. It's barely begun." He stepped closer, crowding her against the MG. "I suggest you remember what happened last time you tried to muscle me," she warned. "How could I forget?"
He smiled. He actually smiled! His mouth curved. The dimple in his chin almost disappeared.
"You took me by surprise. I'll be ready the next time."
For the life of her, Jo couldn't figure out what it took to get through to the man. She gave it a last, parting shot.
"There won't be a next time. Ever. Period. End of story. I'm not seeing you again after today, Alex, and I'm not answering your phone calls."
That finally seemed to penetrate his supreme self-confidence. The smile disappeared. His blue eyes bore into her with unsettling intensity, as if he wanted to see into her soul.
"Is there someone else? That other pilot I met at the picnic? What was his name? Elliot? Deke Elliott?"
His phenomenal memory shouldn't have surprised her. And she certainly shouldn't have allowed the echo of Deke's husky promise to leap into her mind. She hesitated, just for a moment. Just long enough for something ugly to ripple across Alex's face.
"Listen to me," she said with as much calm as she could muster at that point. "What did or didn't happen between us had nothing to do with Deke. Only you, Alex. And me."
"Good."
He didn't touch her. Didn't move an inch closer. Yet she felt almost suffocated by his nearness.
"I won't lose you the way I lost Katherine."
Katherine. It always came back to Katherine.
"You're mine," he whispered. "All of you. Your soft skin. Your full mouth. Your slender hips. Every part of you is for my eyes only. Remember that, Joanna."
Fury and the first, faint prickling of fear brought Jo off the MG.
"Go to hell."
Yanking open the car door, she swung inside and shoved the key in the ignition. Alex was still standing in the driveway, watching her, when she peeled out onto Braddock Road.
Chapter Seventeen
The confrontation with Alex outside Dr. Russ's home left Jo angry and more determined than ever to cut the cord. She stopped by a Radio Shack on the way home and purchased a caller ID unit. A quick call to her telephone service activated the special option that afternoon.
The little device paid for itself the same evening. Alex called three times. Each time, Jo let the phone ring until the machine clicked on. The deep, sensual voice that had charmed her just a few weeks ago now sent ripples of distaste down her spine.
"I know you're there," he whispered during the last call. "Pick up, darling."
Jo's skin prickled. For an absurd moment, she glanced uneasily around the living room, wondering if the thief who'd waltzed in the other night and lifted the photograph had planted a hidden camera or some listening devices. Wondering, too, if Alex was behind that bit of larceny.
Why? Why would he want the photo? For that matter, why would he whisk away all Dr. Russ's papers before the police had a chance to go through them?
What had the historian uncovered during his poking and probing into the Taylor family history?
Hidden secrets, perhaps?
Secrets dark enough to sign his death warrant?
The idea left her feeling slightly sick. She had to get a grip. This whole business with Alex was starting to drift into the realm of the unreal.
"Talk to me, Joanna." His voice eerily floated through her thoughts.
"Not in this lifetime," she muttered to the empty, echoing house.
More than a little frazzled, she got ready for bed and set the alarm for five o'clock the next morning. That would allow her plenty of time to make her scheduled seven o'clock check ride. Like all military aircrew members, Jo was subject to periodic evaluation by the Wing standardization/evaluation team to make sure she flew by the book.
She woke to a drizzly gray dawn and a blinking light on the alarm clock. After a few groggy moments, it dawned on her that Fort Washington had suffered a power outage sometime during the night. Scooping her watch off the nightstand, Jo discovered it was six-ten.
"Well, hell!"
There was no way she could throw on her flight suit, drive the fifteen miles to the base, finish her preflighting, and make her scheduled take-off.
This was not good.
Definitely not good.
Aircraft broke down occasionally, causing delays or late take-offs. Missions were canceled or rescheduled all the time. Pilots planning on a long and successful career in the United States Air Force, however, didn't miss many showtimes.
Jo called ahead to advise Ops Control that she'd be late, which didn't earn her any brownie points with the major waiting to administer her check ride, then scrambled into her uniform and hit the road. Mercifully, traffic was light.
She aced the evaluation, but the hassle of trying to pacify the major and make up time took an edge from her satisfaction. So did the phone call she received early that afternoon.
She'd just grabbed a sandwich and a diet Coke from the vending machines and was checking the extended weather forecast for tomorrow when one of the sergeants at Ops Control patched through a call.
To her dismay, her long-distance landlord announced that he had to break her lease. He'd just received an offer he couldn't refuse for the house and land he'd inherited from his grandparents. Some huge corporation wanted to snatch up the last undeveloped section along that stretch of the Potomac.
"I'm sorry, Jo. I'll refund your deposit and this month's rent, plus pay you a month's rent if you'll move out by the fifteenth."
"The fifteenth of when?"
"Well... October."
"You're kidding! That's four days from now!"
"I know, I know. But their offer is contingent on establishing ownership of the property by that date. It has to do with tax periods or something. I didn't really catch all the legalities. Hell, I didn't catch anything after they named their price!"
"But..."
"I'll pay for storage for your stuff if you need to move into Bachelor Officers' Quarters temporarily."
Jo emptied her lungs on a long, exasperated breath. She wouldn't screw a fellow flier out of a fabulous deal like this, but damn! Four days to find a new place and move all her possessions?
"Okay, color me gone on the fifteenth."
"I love you! My wife loves you! Each of our three children, two dogs, and assorted frogs and turtles love you. The president of GenCorp will love you when I call him back and tell him the deal's
done."
She froze, her fingers clenched on the phone. She had to fight to squeeze a single word through suddenly paralyzed vocal chords.
"Gen... Corp?"
"Yeah. It's some big faceless conglomerate with a ton of lawyers on the board."
GenCorp wasn't faceless to Jo. She knew exactly who headed the multinational corporation. The same man who'd transferred the title of one of their corporate helicopters to her name.
"I gotta call the lawyers right away," her landlord gushed. "I don't want to give 'em time to change their minds. Thanks, kid!"
Jo's power of speech came rushing back the moment she slammed down the phone.
"Son of a bitch!"
She didn't realized she'd practically shouted the words until she looked up to see the crew members gathered in the Ops Control center staring at her with varying expressions of surprise. Even Deke Elliot had stopped in mid-stride.
His eyes narrowing, Deke took in Jo's flushed face.
Taylor again! It had to be Taylor. No one else could raise such a storm of emotion with a single phone call.
At that moment, the pilot's active dislike of the playboy millionaire morphed into an implacable determination to break Taylor's hold over her, one way or another. The savage urge sprang from more than jealousy, he admitted, his jaw working. More than a primitive need to stake his own claim.
He hated seeing Jo played with like this. Almost as much as he hated the idea of Taylor's hands on her. Deke had lain awake a long, long time after overhearing Alex's references to her soft breasts and hot juices. It was almost as if the bastard had known he was standing there, listening. Almost as if Taylor had wanted to goad him, rub his nose in the fact that he'd scored.
Well, he'd succeeded. More than he could know. Deke was damned if he'd stand by and watch Taylor twist Jo into knots like this.
Strolling over to the still seething woman, he raked a cool glance down her face. "Got a problem, West?"
"You might say so. I'm being evicted. Four days from today."
"Didn't pay your rent?"
"I paid it," she ground out, arms crossed, angry gaze fixed on the helos lined up outside. "But it seems someone's offered to pay a lot more."
"Taylor?"
"How did you know?"
"Just an educated guess."
Her green eyes spit fire. Anger put a flush of pink in her cheeks. With a clench low in his gut, Deke reminded himself he'd yet to raise anything close to that level of emotion in Jo West. Soon, he promised silently. Soon.
He was damned if he'd prey on her while Taylor kept her so thrown off balance, but... soon.
"Why does lover boy want to put you out on the street? As I recall, he was ready to beg, even grovel, to get you into his arms."
The pink in her cheeks deepened to brick red. "Look, the man's obsessed, okay? I've tried to break it off a dozen times now. He won't let go."
Frowning, Deke hooked her elbow and drew her into the crew lounge. It was deserted for once, with only the mumble of news coming from the big-screen TV to disturb them.
"There are laws against stalkers, Jo."
"I know, I know." She rubbed the heel of her hand across her forehead. "I've thought about talking to the police, maybe even getting a restraining order. But I don't have any proof at this point, and the media..."
Her breath left on a long sigh.
"The media would eat me alive. I can see the headlines now. Dairyman's Daughter Scorned, Plots Revenge. Prince Charming Accused by Woman He Dumped."
"It won't be the first time you've made the headlines," Deke reminded her. "You can handle whatever they throw at you."
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe."
"Hey, what's this?"
Under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't have touched her in public, not with them both in uniform anyway. He firmly believed in keeping his personal life separate and apart from his professional one. Yet the quiet desperation on her face ripped at something deep inside him. Curling a finger under her chin, he tilted it up.
"Don't tell me Super Woman's afraid of a few measly reporters?"
She laughed. It was a shaky, choking little laugh, but it lifted a boulder-sized weight from Deke's chest.
"No, not afraid. Just... tired of the whole awkward mess."
The weight dropped right back on his ribs. The need to shield her, to protect her, was fast becoming an obsession, every bit as compulsive as that driving Alexander Taylor. But Deke wasn't about to make the same mistakes as Taylor by pushing too hard, too fast.
"I suggested the other night that you camp out at my place until you got a security system installed. Since you're about to find yourself out on the street, I'll renew the offer."
She stared up at him, not making any effort to shield her thoughts. Deke read them effortlessly. They matched his own.
"There aren't any strings attached to the offer, West. No obligations. You come and go as you please."
She licked her lips, and it was all he could do not to kiss her right there, in the middle of the damned crew lounge. Every muscle in his body hardened, but he managed to keep his voice level.
"I'm not Taylor. I won't push you. I told you... when it happens between us, it happens."
This time she didn't add her zinger. No if it happened. Her wide, glade-green eyes registered relief, confusion, acceptance, and a spark of undisguised interest that slammed into him like a fist.
"If you're sure," she murmured.
He'd never been more sure of anything in his life.
"I'll follow you home tonight and help you pack. Maybe I can round up a few of the other guys to help, too."
Jo watched him stride away, her thoughts as chaotic as her emotions. What the heck was she doing? She'd barely escaped making a Godzilla-sized mistake with Alex, and in almost the next breath, she was moving in with Deke.
Was she crazy, or what?
What, she decided ruefully as Deke disappeared down the hall. Definitely what. Despite her broken engagement earlier this year, despite the mess with Alex, she'd decided to yield to the inevitable. As Deke seemed so fond of stating, when it happened, it happened.
Still, Jo was so gun-shy she might have backed out even then if she hadn't received two very different, very frightening documents that very day.
The first came by courier, delivered just as Jo and Deke and a half dozen buddies were about to form up the moving brigade. In answer to a call from the squadron orderly, Jo promised to join the others in the parking lot and dashed across the hangar to the administrative area.
"Joanna West?"
She eyed the uniformed courier suspiciously. "Yes."
"I've got a letter for you. I need your signature."
"What kind of letter?"
"Hey, lady, I don't read 'em, I just deliver 'em. Sign here, please."
Still wary, she checked the label on the flat cardboard envelope first. It contained her name and address, nothing more. After considerable deliberation, she signed the receipt and returned it to the courier.
Even with all that had happened during her shortlived relationship with Alex, she still wasn't prepared for the papers inside. They came with a note attached, written in a bold handwriting she recognized instantly.
Darling,
As much as it pains me to dispossess you,
the property was too choice to pass up.
Please accept this with my love.
Alex
Her blood had begun a slow boil by the time she flipped to the attached lease. It was made out in her name and granted her life tenancy of a five-thousand-square-foot penthouse condo in one of the high-rise buildings on the Virginia side of the Potomac. She couldn't even begin to guess what a place like that would cost.
Spinning on one heel, Jo took off after the courier. She caught up with him in the parking lot, where Deke and her buddies had already gathered.
"Hey! You! Hold on a moment!"
Seething, she tore Alex's note and the lease into small pieces and s
tuffed them back in the envelope.
"Return this to the sender. I'm refusing it."
"You can't refuse it," he protested. "You've already signed for it."
"Tough. Take it back to wherever you got it."
His lip set mulishly. "It's gonna cost you, lady. The sender only paid for delivery."
Yanking down the zipper in her leg pocket, Jo grabbed the thin wallet that carried her ID and cash, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and shoved it into his hand.
"Here."
Muttering, the courier climbed into his van and drove off, leaving Jo shaking with the force of her anger. Damn Alex! What part of no didn't he understand?
Deke detached himself from the others and joined her where she stood, hands curled into tight fists. "What was that all about?"
"Alex sent me a lease for a condo," she said through teeth clenched so tight they hurt. "I just sent it back."
His hazel eyes turned flinty. "I think Mr. Taylor and I will have to have a little chat."
Jo was too used to holding her own to dump her problem with Alex in someone else's lap, even Deke's. Especially Deke's.
"This isn't your fight."
"The hell it isn't."
She wanted to warn him that Alex played by his own rules, that his money and influence could burn them both if they weren't careful, but Deke didn't need warning. In his own way, he was every bit as tough and tenacious as Alexander Taylor.
"Let's get this operation under way," he said after a moment. "I'll feel a whole lot better after we move you out of that isolated little house."
"Me, too," Jo murmured fervently.
She felt even better about it when she arrived home, unlocked the front door for the guys to carry in boxes, and found a fat letter stuffed in her mailbox.
What now? she wondered with another leap of anger. The keys to a Ferrari to match his? A marriage license with her name already filled in?
Only after she'd turned it over and noted Mrs. Martin Russ's return address did Jo start to breathe easy again. Wandering into the house, she told the guys to help themselves to a beer before tackling the daunting task ahead.
"Pack everything that isn't nailed down," she instructed, sliding a finger under the envelope flap. "I'll get changed and come—"
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