Floating in the water, she moved to him as he guided her gently and slowly onto his lap. Her knees straddled him. Bubbles came up around her breasts, hiding her nipples. She had her hands on his shoulders, and he felt her grip him tighter.
“Carson...”
When she began to withdraw, he locked his arms around her.
“Shh.” He looked up at her face, so full of worry. “Kiss me, Georgia.” He wanted her to do it.
She hesitated, her bad experience threatening to dim her passion.
“Kiss me,” he said.
She looked down at her naked breasts, nipples hardened and brushing his chest, and then back up into his eyes.
“You’re safe with me.” Seeing how that washed over her and drained away her tension, Carson restrained his rising urge to put himself inside her.
She put her hands on his face and brought hers close. “I know,” she whispered, and then kissed him.
The warm, wet kiss was made warmer and wetter with the steam coming off the surface of the hot tub. Georgia’s breathing grew rapid and her kisses more demanding. Carson didn’t give her more than she was willing to give. He let her set the pace. He just kept running his hands up and down her soft body, up her ribs to tease her breasts and then to her back and down again, to tease her butt and run down her thighs.
She began to move on him, a slow back-and-forth grind.
He couldn’t hold back a groan. She kissed his mouth in response and whispered his name.
He had her trust, and it was a precious thing. But still, he held back, guiding her mouth and hips.
She found him herself, using his shoulders to brace herself and easing down, taking him into her. He tipped his head back, surrendering to the ecstasy. She kissed his mouth full on and began to move up and down. She started out slow and gradually heated things up. Carson fought back an explosive orgasm until she cried out hers. Then, at last, he could let go. With the sun setting and streaking the sky pink and orange, his world changed.
He became aware of her coming down to reality.
“Let’s dry off and go up into the tree house,” he said.
“Okay.”
He climbed up first. They dried in silence. When she reached to put on her clothes, he stopped her by taking her hand.
“Wait,” he said.
“We should get back.”
“Why? Let’s stay here tonight.” He tugged her toward the bed. “I can have dinner brought here.”
“But...”
“Ruby won’t be surprised or worried. You’re safe here. Everyone knows that.” And she should, too.
She went with him to the bed, and he wondered if that was how it had been with Drake. He’d coaxed her and then she’d regretted it the next day. Well, she wasn’t going to regret this.
He used his cell to have an Italian meal sent to them.
While they waited, he made love to her again. He kept it slow and gentle. Her orgasm was stronger than the first time.
He studied her when dinner arrived, and she picked at hers. She avoided looking at him.
“Georgia?”
She lifted her troubled eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiled.
She wasn’t telling him. Something was wrong, but she’d decided to keep it to herself.
And he suspected he knew what it was about, and it wasn’t Drake. This time it was him. Was she worried she’d make a mistake? Did she still think he was poison just for being an Adair?
After dinner was cleared away and they watched a movie with barely any words exchanged, Carson pretended to fall asleep with her next to him.
He felt her ease away around midnight. He’d expected this. He listened to her dress and leave the tree house by way of the spiral stairway. Getting up, he went out onto the patio. Lights outside the tree house revealed her jogging through the trees. He didn’t call out to her. Just ached that she’d felt the need to run. Something must have made her slow and stop. She looked back and saw him, as though some invisible energy had told her he’d be there. She stared for several seconds. Was she undecided? Oh, yeah. She was confused. And that confusion made her turn and run out of sight.
Watching her run away should make him think twice about pursuing her, let his rebellion take over. Instead, it only made him burn for her more. She wasn’t running from him. She was running from herself. And he intended to melt all of her barriers away. See what remained when he finally penetrated her fully. It could be something phenomenal. Or it could tear his heart out if she ran again.
Chapter 12
Georgia had a hard time looking at Carson without her imagination going back to the tree house. She was mystified over how easy it had been to become absorbed with him. That she’d told him something so personal. And then had sex with him. Incredible sex. It had obliterated Drake from her soul. For that she’d be forever grateful. But what was she getting herself into here? Love? The blooming of it. And the man. He enchanted her. She was beginning to feel that she couldn’t get enough of him. But did she know him? Past experience had shown her that she lacked the ability to expose people for who they really were. She was too trusting. Didn’t giving Drake another chance prove that? She’d let him talk her into meeting him and look where that had gotten her.
* * *
More than anything, Georgia feared that feeling so much for Carson was dangerous. That had her rather shaken as she made her way down to the kitchen at the ranch.
Ruby was there, sitting at an island on a stool having a chat with the cook, who’d made her breakfast, as evidenced by Ruby’s now-empty plate.
“There you are,” Ruby said when she saw her. “You slept late.”
She’d stayed in her room to avoid Carson. “Hi.” She leaned in for a cheek kiss.
“Can I get you anything?” the cook asked.
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll leave you two alone, then.” The cook turned and left the kitchen.
“Were you with Carson last night?” Ruby asked with a mischievous smile.
Georgia went to the refrigerator for something to drink. Dread, regret and fear all knotted in her core.
“Uh-oh,” Ruby said. “I know that look.”
“It’s nothing, Ruby.”
“Huh. Normally you’d have called me Mom if you weren’t upset.”
When Georgia turned with water in her hand, she saw Ruby pat the stool next to her.
There was no getting away from it now. Georgia went to sit beside her.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Ruby said.
Georgia could only look at her.
“Mom...” she started to say.
Ruby smiled at her use of that word. But it was a grim smile. “Reginald was a lot like Carson when he was that age.”
Great. Just what she needed to hear.
“Fighting his parents. Wanting to get as far away from them as he could.”
Yep. That was Carson.
“It ended up ruining him.”
“Jackson is what ruined him,” Georgia said.
“His parents were just awful to me, as you know. They never accepted me into the family. That took its toll on him. And me, of course.”
“Why are you telling me this again?”
“Because I wonder if it’s different now. I’ve had time to get acquainted with Reginald’s kids. They’ve been nothing but gracious since I’ve been here.”
“What are you saying? That everything you told me isn’t true? You never wanted to see any Adair ever again. You said so.”
“Yes. My heart was broken. It’s been broken for nearly four decades. And I’ve been blind because of that.” She put her hand over hers. “I’m sorry, Georgia. I fear I’ve jaded you and you weren’t the one who had to live that hell.”
What was she saying? That she had forgiven them? That she was ready to risk her heart again?
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Hayden,” Georgia said.
&nbs
p; Ruby’s face lit with joy. She looked so radiant. “I never dreamed I’d meet someone like that on this trip.”
“Maybe you should slow it down a little. Like I just said, you’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”
“Like you have with Carson?”
Georgia didn’t remind her that it was her fault she was spending said time with Carson. But then, Ruby hadn’t told her to take a leave of absence. And Ruby hadn’t forced her to come here.
“Maybe it’s time we left,” Georgia said. Before both of their lives were turned upside down.
Ruby’s glow dimmed. “I’d rather stay a bit longer. Carson might find out who took my Jackson.”
Georgia heard the hope in Ruby’s voice and felt a familiar protectiveness rear up. She didn’t want to see her stepmother hurt.
“Carson may not be able to find him,” she said.
“Yes, but he might.”
“Ruby—”
“Now, Georgia, you stop. I don’t want to leave yet. If you want to go, then go. You don’t have to stay and watch over me.”
Leave her here so she could continue to spend time with a rich man? “Why do you like the rancher?” she asked. “Is it his money?” Ruby met her gaze as she registered what Georgia asked, seeming a little taken aback.
“No. It’s not his money. Money is nice, but it’s the man, Georgia. Why do you think money has anything to do with it?”
“What about Reginald?”
“I loved Reginald. I also loved his pedigree, but I’m not that girl anymore.” Ruby searched her face and eyes. “Do you think that because Carson is rich that he’ll end up like Reginald? A bitter, heartless man?”
“I think it’s a possibility.”
“Ah.” Ruby nodded. “And you don’t want to risk it.”
Georgia lowered her head, looking away.
“You’ve already taken the risk, Georgia. You slept with him. You opened your heart to him.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“I don’t believe you for a second.” Ruby leaned forward, squeezing her hand tighter. “Let go, Georgia. Stop protecting me. And stop projecting the bad things that happened to me onto your own life.”
In an instant, Georgia realized her stepmother was right. Carson had seen it about her, too. She protected Ruby and put herself second. It was time to put herself first.
“How?” Georgia asked. She had no idea where to start changing her life, only felt the rightness of doing so. Making a change. For the better.
“Give Carson a chance.”
Georgia slumped against the back of the chair. Really? Should she? Did she even know what she wanted in a man? She’d been so on the lookout for snobby rich men that she hadn’t given it much thought.
“Oh. Hayden took me shopping today.” Ruby leaned down and lifted a paper shopping bag. “I found the damnedest thing.” She put the bag on her lap and dug inside.
Her hand came out with a book. An old book.
“You told me you’d like to collect Beatrix Potter books and I found this one for a really good price.”
Georgia was speechless. It was a first edition of The Tale of Peter Rabbit. The bindings and cover were in good shape. She flipped through the pages. No markings.
“It’s signed,” Ruby said, sending chills through Georgia. “Dated August 1927.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, going to the front and seeing the slightly faded signature of Beatrix Potter herself.
Ruby laughed her delight. “Your dad would be so happy to see you right now.”
Georgia began to think clearer. “You can’t afford this.” Had Hayden bought it for her? If so, she’d have to give it back.
Ruby patted Georgia’s hand. “Stop fretting. You’ve been entirely too anxious this whole trip, Georgia. Hayden bought the book for me so that I could give it to you.”
“But—”
“No,” Ruby stopped her protest. “You’ll keep it and you’ll be happy to do so.”
There were times when Ruby showed some backbone and now was one of them. She would not take no for an answer and she would not allow Georgia to give the book back.
She got up from the chair and hugged her stepmother. “Thank you.”
“See?” Ruby teased. “Money isn’t always a bad thing.”
* * *
Sitting, Carson held his cell phone in his hand. He’d just disconnected with Copeland, who’d informed him that his best friend’s wife had called 911 last night during a break-in. The police were calling it a robbery. It hadn’t been a robbery attempt. Copeland said the police arrived before the burglar could take anything, but both he and Carson were not so optimistic.
“Why is your commander calling you about a robbery at your teammate’s house?” Georgia asked.
In another spicy southern California outfit, this one in shades of blue and green, she sat beside him at a booth inside a café where he’d taken her for breakfast before going into the office. There would be a change of plans today.
“I’m not sure yet.” Could it be that Leif had somehow gotten the data before he died? How could any of them have missed it? Had they even thought to look? His personal things had been gathered and delivered to his wife.
Carson called Whit to tell him he couldn’t go to the office today, and then arranged for the jet to be ready within the hour.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to Oregon.” Copeland had asked him to. His teammate’s wife lived in a small town on the coast of Oregon.
After paying the bill, they left the café. The limo driver stood beside the back-passenger door and opened it when they appeared.
“Oh.” Georgia stopped. “I forgot my jacket.”
“I’ll wait right here, sir,” the driver said, closing the door.
He was about to turn with Georgia when a deafening explosion shocked the air all around them. He pushed her, and she fell to the concrete sidewalk in front of the café. He covered her body with his. Pieces of debris rained down on them. People screamed. A car screeched to a halt.
Carson rolled off her and she twisted to sit up, looking at him in total shock.
“Are you all right?” He touched her arms and looked down her body. She was a little dirty but seemed okay.
She nodded. He looked for the driver and saw him lying on the sidewalk at her feet.
“Oh, no.” Georgia scrambled to her hands and knees and hurried over to him, oblivious of any pain she was probably feeling. She bent over the driver.
“He’s breathing.”
Carson briefly shut his eyes in thanks and got on his phone to call for help, all the while searching the surroundings for anyone who might have done this. His enemy from Myanmar. When all appeared safe and help was on the way, he knelt with her. A crowd began to form.
“Stay back!” he hollered.
Moments later, sirens grew louder. Heat from the burning limo choked Carson. Georgia and a few others nearby coughed. It was a metallic, pungent smell. Thick black smoke rolled up into the air.
Georgia checked on the driver again. He was bleeding from somewhere on his head and he was still unconscious. But he was alive. She didn’t move him. Carson would have stopped her if she’d tried. It was best not to.
Fire trucks arrived and paramedics rushed over to them. Carson took her hand and guided her out of the way. Police and an ambulance arrived next.
Georgia leaned against him. He could see her intense worry about his driver. “We have to go to the hospital with him. Call his family.”
“We will.” He took her hand when the driver was wheeled to the ambulance, finding Whit’s assistant’s number and calling to instruct her to notify the limo driver’s family. She stayed calm and promised to do so immediately.
Carson helped Georgia up into the ambulance first and then climbed in after her, seeing news vans show up just as they were leaving. He held her hand and she sat close beside him.
“Who did this?” she asked, but she must
already know. Or did she? “Why is he trying to kill us if he thinks you have the data?”
An innocent man might have been killed.
“He must know I don’t,” he said. “This is about revenge. I’m back in the States. My teammates are harder to reach while they’re on assignment.”
In other words, he’d kill them, too, if he had the chance...when he had the chance. How many others would be hurt?
“I just want it to stop.”
Carson would see to it that no violence ever touched her again. “I’ll make it stop.”
She lifted her head, close to tears, and blinked understanding when she saw his set determination.
* * *
The limo driver was going to be all right. Georgia sagged with relief, fatigued from all the drama and stress. All she wanted to do was sleep, but Carson was hell-bent on going to Reedsport to talk to Leif’s widow. The trip exhausted her more. This jet ride was much different from the last. No frivolities other than the convenience of having your own plane. Just fast transport.
Now they were in a cab driving up to the widow’s house. She lived in a modest two-story home on a wooded lot in Reedsport. The trees were so thick here that the neighboring houses couldn’t be seen. Georgia heard kids playing somewhere nearby and a single car drive by on the street. Carson had called the woman who’d been married to his best friend. The conversation had been brief and she could hear the awkwardness in Carson’s tone.
“Have you ever met her?” she asked as they walked up the sidewalk to the front door.
“Yes. But I missed Leif’s funeral. I couldn’t make it back in time.”
Because he’d been shot. This might be an emotional encounter. Carson rang the doorbell and took a deep breath just before the door opened. A woman about Georgia’s height stood there. Her son clung to her leg. He had to be about four or so.
“Andrew, go on and play,” the woman told the boy. When he didn’t move, his curious eyes absorbing the two strangers who’d come to his door, his mother said, “Go on, go to your room and watch cartoons. Your favorite is starting.”
With that, the boy bounded off.
Georgia saw how Carson studied the boy, not looking away until they were inside the home. Did the child look like his friend? Did it remind him too much of his time with the man? And now he stood before his widow.
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