“Done,” he said.
It was alive. That was the only way to describe it. And he was exhausted. But he wasn’t finished. When the creative energy was flowing through him like it was, it was best to ride the dragon until the bitter end. He took care of his brushes and scraped his palette and thought of his next project.
But something nagged at the corner of his mind again, and he shook himself back to reality. He listened closely, trying to figure out what was off. And then he heard it again. A steady pounding from his front door.
A growl escaped his throat, but he headed for the door anyway. His family knew not to interrupt him when he was working, which meant there had to be an emergency of some sort. Or someone with a death wish.
Chapter 4
Jayden had forgotten he’d been working in old sweats, so he swung by his bedroom to grab a shirt. He was pulling it on as he opened the front door and a wet mass of something he was almost positive was human fell into his arms.
“What are you doing here?,” he asked, trying to keep them both upright. Caught off guard, all he could think about were Declan’s warnings. “This is private property.”
“S…sor…sorry,” she said.
She was in shock. Her eyes were wide and unfocused and she was shivering with cold. Great, Jayden. Why not traumatize her some more?
Her fingers were clasped around his shirt and he tried to loosen them one by one. There’d been too many quacks over the years try to make their way onto the compound and get their hands on whatever government secrets Declan managed to keep inside. Even those who chose to live outside the compound had surveillance cameras at entry point locations so traffic could be monitored. And Declan had lectured and trained them well enough to be paranoid about any strangers accidentally popping up.
She was tall, close to six feet, and he held enough of her in his arms to know there was a very nice body underneath the wet clothes. He immediately let go of her, and her knees buckled. He caught hold of her elbows to help her stay upright.
Her teeth started to chatter. “I’m s…sorry,” she said again. “My car…it’s…stuck. I’m looking for m…my house.”
She had an intriguing face—more interesting than beautiful—but she was crazy as a loon. Or someone with an agenda. His house wasn’t a place anyone found by accident.
“Sell it to someone else, lady,” he said. “Who do you work for? I’m going to call Declan and he can deal with you.”
His harsh tone must’ve struck a nerve because her head snapped back and the color started to come back into her face. Her hair was the white blonde that women paid a lot of money for, but he had a feeling she didn’t have to. Her brows were finely arched, her eyes almost black, and her lashes thick and full, clumped together by the rain.
Her lips were wide, full and unpainted, her nose was just a bit crooked, and she had a sexy little mole at the corner of her mouth. A vision of her decked out in a gold breastplate with a sword and shield in her hands and hair blowing in the wind came so clear he could’ve reached out and touched it.
It made him all the more angry. He wanted to be back upstairs in his studio—needed to be—and whatever her scheme, it just delayed him more.
“Yes, I’m aware,” she said, stiffening her spine. “Are you normally so chivalrous? I suppose you kick small dogs and run over the elderly as well?”
His brow arched at that, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn’t above seeing the absurdity in his behavior, and he tried to relax a little bit.
“And if you must know, I do work for Declan MacKenzie, so feel free to call him if you must, but maybe we could move this conversation inside. Or I’m happy to camp out on your porch, but if you think I’m going back out into that,” she said, waving her hand in an unspecified direction, “then you have another thing coming.”
He was almost tempted to do just that, just so he could see what she’d do to him. She was magnificent in her anger, and his body responded before his brain could get back into gear.
“As exciting as that sounds,” he said, “Maybe you could give me a little more information before I let you inside. This area is private for a reason. And we’ve had too many close calls.”
She managed to draw herself up to her full height, and dignity cloaked her like a blanket. There was a fierce determination somewhere inside of her, but he’d expect no less from the warrior he envisioned.
“I’ve just moved to Surrender to be the manager at the sporting goods store, and I’ve leased the lake house on Territorial drive. The young woman at the diner gave me directions, but my car went got stuck some ways back and here I am. I don’t mean to be rude…”
“Sure you do,” Jayden said, enjoying himself now that she was getting her dander up. Women were fascinating. Their emotions and reactions. He wanted to draw her in charcoal like this. Fast lines and sharp, furious edges.
“You might as well come in,” he said, moving aside to let her by. “You’ll be camped out on my doorstep and then I’ll never get you to leave.”
“I appreciate your generosity,” she said.
And she wasn’t being sarcastic. He could tell she was at the end of her rope, and he’d only made it harder on her.
Despite the outward appearance of bravado, there was a fragile vulnerability hidden somewhere inside. Even warriors couldn’t be strong all the time. He had another vision of her, this time in soft pastels and watercolors.
Inviting her inside was a mistake. He knew it as sure as he was breathing. His artist’s eye picked out subtleties that others didn’t pick up on. Her clothes were expensive, her speech refined, and she was running from something.
And when you put two and two together, Declan had given her a home and a place to work. He’d given her a safe haven. The fact that his warrior needed a safe haven at all made him want to protect her, to shield her from whatever hurts she’d suffered.
She stood in the open space of the living room, and stared out the wall of windows. Her gasp for breath had his body going on full alert.
“My God,” she said reverently. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’d never want to go anywhere else.”
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. That soft gasp of wonder had awakened things inside him that had been dormant too long. She turned to face him and he forgot to breathe all together. She radiated light, and the beauty of her would be etched in his brain for eternity. He didn’t need her to sit for him. He’d be able to draw her from memory.
“I’ve got tea,” he said abruptly.
“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised by the offer. “I’d love some. I got some coffee at the diner, but I was gripping the steering wheel too hard to drink it.”
She was lucky to be alive. He scowled at the thought of her driving through such treacherous conditions, and went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. And then he went into his room and grabbed a towel and dug an old pair of sweats out of the closet.
“Well, hello there,” he heard her say from the other room.
Winston had come out to see what had disturbed his nap, and he gave Jayden a questioning look before turning his attention back to their guest.
“Aren’t you a sophisticated old man,” she said, reaching down so he could sniff her hand. He gave her his paw to shake. “And quite charming. You look a bit like my grandfather. All you need is a bowler hat and a cigar.”
“His name is Winston,” Jayden said, narrowing his eyes at the dog. He was never that friendly to strangers. “Because he looks like Winston Churchill.”
She scratched behind his ears. “It’s a very appropriate name. Does he always look this disgruntled?”
“Always,” Jayden said.
“I want to apologize for showing up the way I did,” she said. “I’m sure it was a great shock, especially if you’re not used to having visitors. I can understand why you’d be cautious. Declan will do anything to protect his family.”
She moved away from Winston to look at the
sleekly framed pictures of his family that covered the wall next to the fireplace.
“Yeah,” Jayden said. “But he’s not much on giving information. It would have been nice to know I should’ve been on the lookout for a lost tenant.”
He handed her the stack of clothes.
“Thank you,” she said, making her way toward the guest room where he’d pointed. “I’m Holly, by the way.”
“Interesting,” he said without looking at her. “You don’t look like a Holly.”
The way she said the name spoke of unfamiliarity, and it made him frown. He definitely needed to have a talk with Declan.
She didn’t respond. There was only silence as the door clicked shut behind her. She had secrets. And damned if he didn’t want to start peeling back the layers.
Chapter 5
You don’t look like a Holly.
Panic had gripped her the second the words were out of his mouth, but it was just a reaction. She wasn’t used to the name. And he was a stranger. Who was he to say what name she looked like. If she was going to live in Surrender, she had to get used to hearing it. And she had to do better saying it.
The guest bedroom was large, with more windows and a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. On one wall was a large painting in vibrant colors that had her staring transfixed. She’d seen the artist’s work in a gallery in Manhattan, and Derek had paid a lot of money for an original piece for his office. The famous JMC. He only went by his initials and he never went to his showings. She’d been fascinated by the thought of a man who lived with such complete anonymity.
She moved from the bedroom to the bathroom, but there were floor to ceiling windows in there as well.
“So much for privacy,” she said.
She dried off quickly and stripped out of her wet clothes. She’d had the presence of mind to kick off her muddy tennis shoes before she’d walked onto his porch. They were ruined anyway.
The large shower caught her eye, and she bit her lip in indecision. She’d already overstayed her welcome. He clearly wasn’t used to company, and by the look on his face it seemed as though she’d ruined his entire day. But when it had come down to it, he’d been kind and given her refuge.
She looked down at her muddy feet and ankles and decided she was really doing him a favor by taking a shower. That way she didn’t track dirt into his home. Or more than she already had. And what a home it was. If the house she’d leased had half the view this one did she’d be tempted to stay forever.
It took her a minute to figure out where the controls were for the shower, and she couldn’t help the grin when the control panel lit up in the wall and multiple jets started spraying water.
The home she’d shared with Derek had been a renovated Brownstone on the Upper East Side. It was big, stuffy, and boring, much like Derek. It had been a home with no happiness, and memories that only contained anger and violence.
The pulsing water felt amazing on her chilled skin, but she didn’t linger. She wouldn’t put it past her savior to barge in and dump her back outside if the rain stopped before she was finished.
She turned off the water, dried quickly, and then put on the sweats he’d given her, very aware of the fact she didn’t have any undergarments. The clothes smelled clean, and she breathed in the scent before gathering up the wet towel and her dirty clothes. She made sure she left the bathroom as spotless as it was when she’d entered, and when she was satisfied, she went back out to see if his mood had improved. Hers most definitely had.
The smell of something delicious greeted her when she came back into the kitchen.
“Oh, God,” she moaned and held her stomach. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until just now.”
“Oh, did you want something too?” he asked, raising a brow.
She felt the heat in her cheeks before she realized he’d set two plates on the pub table next to the window.
“Do you have a plastic bag I could put my clothes in?” she asked.
He grabbed a trash bag from under the sink and handed it to her. “All I had was leftover pizza,” he said. “Worst of the storm should be passed by the time we finish.”
“Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?” she asked, making him grin. She took a seat at the table, and decided maybe he wasn’t humorless after all. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I don’t remember giving it,” he said, putting a round pizza tray in the middle of the table.
He took the seat across from her and looked up, and she arched a brow at him.
“Jayden,” he said. “Jayden MacKenzie.”
“Ahh,” she said. “I guess that makes sense. Alice told me you could throw a dart and hit a MacKenzie most anywhere around here.”
“That’s mostly true,” he said. “But maybe a little exaggerated. We claim a lot of families that don’t share the last name, but we have a heck of a family reunion every year.”
“Why have a family reunion if you all live right here?” she asked.
“We don’t all like right here. And a lot of those who have homes here, don’t live here full time. We’re like Grand Central Station.”
“At least you’re not Hotel California.”
“Are you usually this much of a smart ass?” he asked.
She frowned. It had been a long time since that side of her had come out—had been allowed to come out.
“No,” she said, and left it at that.
“Well, you’re a natural.”
She’d not really taken the time to look at him before. There weren’t many men who didn’t make her feel like a giant when she stood next to them. Her height had always been a source of embarrassment for her mother, and Derek had never let her wear shoes that made her taller than him.
But this man had at least a couple of inches in height on her, and his shoulders were broad and his arms muscular. All she remembered when she collapsed against him was that it was like hitting a brick wall.
His skin was dark enough to let her know he spent time outdoors, and he was obviously in very good shape. Very good shape.
There were flecks of colored paint on his hands and smeared around his nails, and she found it curious. He definitely didn’t seem like the type of man to sit all day in an office. His forearms were strong, and her gaze lifted higher until it rested on the sensuous curve of his mouth. And then she met his eyes and saw he was staring back at her. They were green with flecks of gold, and the look he gave her was so intense she had to look away for fear of being swallowed whole.
Whatever was going on, she was not equipped to deal with the feelings a man like Jayden MacKenzie brought out in her. She’d spent the last five years keeping her emotions bottled up inside, putting a smile on her face and pretending everything was okay. She didn’t know what it was to have a physical connection with a man that included kindness or gentleness. Derek had made sure on their wedding night that sex was something to be feared, and she thanked God every day for the mistresses he used in place of her throughout their marriage.
Jayden reached toward the pizza and picked up a slice, putting it on her plate.
“You’re safe here,” he said.
It was everything she could do to keep the tears welling in her eyes from falling, so she picked up the pizza and started to eat.
Jayden looked down at Winston, who sat with great dignity by his chair and looked at the slice in his hand longingly. “You can’t have pizza,” he said. “We’ve been over this. It’s not good for you.”
Winston made a strange mewling noise, and mixed in a growl and a couple of barks, very clearly communicating his displeasure.
“Don’t blame me,” Jayden said. “Blame Dr. Vance. He’s the one who put you on the diet.” But Jayden tore off a bit of crust and gave it to Winston.
Winston ate it delicately and then looked at Jayden expectantly.
“Maybe you should by gluten free pizza,” she said. “Then you don’t have to feel guilty.”
“Don’t let him fool
you,” Jayden said. “I’ve never eaten a meal alone with him around.”
“Have you known Declan long?” he asked.
“Since I was a child. He’d pop in when he was in town to see my dad. And I remember meeting his wife once.”
“Sophia,”
“Yes,” Holly said. “She was beautiful, and very kind to a very awkward girl.”
“I can’t imagine you ever being awkward,” he said. “You’re one of the most striking people I’ve ever met.”
He made the comment casually, and it took her off guard. There was no pretense or hidden meaning. He just said what he thought and went ahead eating his pizza. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her a compliment, even an off-handed one.
“Did I interrupt anything when I came to your door?” she asked.
“You’re just now asking that?” He grinned, and she felt the slow rush of pure attraction flow through her veins. His smile changed his face completely. He’d been attractive before, but now…”
She winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I was working.”
“What do you do?” she asked.
“A little of this and that,” he said.
“Does it involve paint?” she asked.
“You know what they say about curiosity and cats?”
“That they’re knowledgeable and interested in people’s lives?” she asked sweetly.
“Why did Declan lease you the house?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Talk about curiosity,” she said.
“I want to be knowledgeable and interested.”
“I told you. He and my father were like brothers, and they worked together from time to time. And when my father died, Declan was there. He’s always been there in some way or another.”
“Declan always takes care of family,” Jayden said.
She guessed Declan was probably as close as any family her father ever had. He hadn’t had any siblings, and his parents had died when he was young. His first wife had died young and tragically, and Margaret had been there to swoop him up in his grief, much like Derek had been there to do the same with her.
Jayden’s Hope: MacKenzies of Montana Page 3