“What do you mean ‘here?’”
Chance glanced around fearfully, like a rabbit sensing a trap. “In these offices. Right under your nose. Don’t you feel it? It’s eating away at everything you have. Eroding like acid. It’s killing you and Kelsey, and I’m sorry because I think she loves you. You bastard. You just don’t deserve it. And now you hold it in your hands and all you can think about is bringing me down! Look around you. “
Jarred craned his head. He looked and looked, but he couldn’t see anything but gray light. Then the door to his office cracked open. A light shone through. A dark silhouette.
And Chance crying somewhere in the gloom.
Jarred’s eyes suddenly jerked open. Sweat poured down his face. His heart raced.
The hospital room was quiet. Kelsey sat in a chair near his bed, her head nodding, her breath soft and steady. Relief flooded Jarred and he slowly calmed down. The vision faded away almost instantly, reminding him how strangely sinister dreams could be. But they were, after all, only dreams.
“Hey, there, Kelsey.”
Kelsey’s head snapped up. Instantly awake, she glanced around to see who’d spoken, her pulse lifting in spite of herself. Will was just entering Jarred’s room. Disoriented, she didn’t realize for a moment she’d fallen asleep in the chair near Jarred’s bed.
Will looked down at her.
“He asked me to stay,” she said, feeling compelled to explain. “He’s been asleep awhile.”
“I talked to him last night. How’s he been today?”
“Better,” she said, considering. “He’s alert when he’s awake.”
“Think he’s able to make some business decisions yet?” he half joked.
“You’re asking the wrong person.” She looked toward the windows, as much to avoid his gaze as to gather her strength for another round with one of the Bryants. Night had fallen and there was no moon. Only the glow from the fluorescent lights flooding the parking lot left any illumination. The room, too, was dim because Kelsey hadn’t wanted to disturb Jarred’s sleep.
Will stood at the foot of the bed and regarded the sleeping form of his older brother. “Dr. Alastair seems to think he’s healing very rapidly, but I sure as hell don’t notice much of a change.”
“No, he’s definitely better,” Kelsey said again, recalling their conversation.
Footsteps approached. Automatically, Kelsey steeled herself anew, expecting Nola to march in like an avenging angel.
But it was Sarah Ackerman who walked through the door this time, and Kelsey mentally groaned at the intrusion. The blond woman flicked a look her way, then otherwise ignored her. Taking a place beside Will, who greeted her amiably, Sarah stared down at Jarred, too, and her whole attitude needled Kelsey. She didn’t like either of them gazing at him that way. He was too vulnerable.
Rising to her feet, Kelsey dusted off her skirt and said softly, “Is there something I can help you with?”
Sarah looked her up and down. “No.”
Abrupt. The woman was always abrupt, and Kelsey recalled the first time she’d met Sarah. They’d been classmates at U-Dub,—nickname for the University of Washington—and Sarah had been in several of the same courses as Kelsey. But Sarah’s style was bold, aggressive, and in Kelsey’s biased opinion, downright nervy. They’d never liked each other, and by the time Kelsey met Jarred a few years later, Sarah was already employed by his company. It felt as if Sarah had always been a part of their lives, and suffering through years of the woman’s same attitude, and the knowledge that she was seemingly having an affair with her husband, had eroded Kelsey’s own natural good manners. It was difficult to even be in the same room with her, and now, feeling emotion swamping her good sense, Kelsey clamped her jaws together to prevent herself from saying something she might well regret later.
“Has he been like this the whole time?” Sarah asked Will.
“He was awake. He fell asleep in the middle of a conversation,” Kelsey informed her. “It would probably be better to conduct business in the light of day.”
“I would really like to talk to him,” Sarah declared flatly.
“We all would. I just don’t think Jarred’s up for it.” Kelsey was unmoving. “Come back tomorrow.” Or never…
“You’re planning on staying here awhile?” Sarah asked Kelsey.
Like it’s any of your business. “He asked me to. I promised I would.”
Kelsey’s skin prickled. She sent a look Will’s way, gauging his reaction. He seemed distracted rather than provoked by their subtle sparring. But Sarah wasn’t immune and Kelsey could feel the woman’s growing annoyance with her. There was a certain pleasure in that, which made Kelsey inwardly smile.
Looking down her nose, Sarah said, “You can’t just step in at this late date and expect any of us to believe you have Jarred’s best interests at heart. You’re not even living with him.”
You have to hand it to Sarah, Kelsey marveled. She doesn’t pull any punches. “Well, I will be. I’m moving back into the house to help take care of him while he recovers.”
A pause. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” The idea was firmly taking root even as they spoke. “Jarred asked me to.”
“Jarred asked a lot of you, didn’t he?”
“Not any more than would be expected of his wife.”
“When Jarred is himself again, I’m sure things will be different,” Sarah declared.
“And how’s that?” Kelsey asked. Just what did Sarah expect Jarred to do? Leap out of bed and drag her into his arms, promising all kinds of things he couldn’t deliver? For all their supposed mattress thumping, Kelsey had never heard that Jarred wanted anything permanent with the aggressive Sarah, and even if that were a small victory, it was one Kelsey hung on to with an iron will. Jarred was still her husband and Sarah could just stew about that.
Sarah said in her curious flat way, “He’s in recovery, and from all reports, it’s close to miraculous. Soon, he’ll be back to normal and we can all get on with our lives.”
Her supercilious words were hushed, but the staccato whispering took nothing away from the intensity of the conversation. Kelsey, who never before had actually argued points with Sarah—it had all seemed so gauche and self-defeating—felt a certain sense of liberation. She was through hearing about Sarah Ackerman and Jarred and feeling powerless to do anything about their supposed affair. And now that she’d started to project her feelings, she really didn’t know if she could stop. She wanted to tell Sarah to get the hell out of her and Jarred’s life, and for a moment, her lips actually quivered in readiness.
Will came to the rescue. “Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Come on, Sarah. We’ll come back tomorrow morning. He just needs a little more time.”
“Exactly,” Kelsey agreed.
Sarah opened and shut her mouth, then pursed her lips together with an effort. Her eyes glittered. It was like watching angry thoughts collide inside her head. Turning on stiff legs, Sarah marched after Will toward the door. Kelsey watched her leave. Shoulders tense, back rigid, Sarah Ackerman was an unhappy, demanding woman who only acted on her own self-serving impulses.
But she was a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.
After the fact, Kelsey’s heart thumped hard several times before settling back into its natural rhythm. She hated confrontation with anyone, but it was high time Sarah learned that Kelsey possessed a backbone. Jarred was still her husband. Her husband.
Alone with Jarred again, Kelsey reseated herself, examining her husband’s face. What was it about him that had drawn her in so completely? Was it his looks, his sense of barely leashed power, his wealth? No, she knew that wasn’t true. Money had never interested her, at least money she hadn’t earned herself and therefore felt she had no right to. But Jarred had definitely had an effect on her, straight from the start, and when she thought back to that first inauspicious meeting at the Four Seasons Olympic Hotel, she knew she’d been hooked from the moment he’d first spoken
to her.
I understand you work for Trevor. Can you get him to stop designing those milk cartons and littering up the waterfront…?
She’d fallen in love with him that quickly, though she hadn’t realized it at the time, of course. No, it was several days after that first meeting when she was back at her office that she felt the first stirrings of love. He’d called her, intending to take her up on her offer to show him around the boxy white town houses Trever was erecting, but Kelsey, distracted by a series of misadventures at work, hadn’t immediately recognized his voice. “Ms. Bennett?” he’d inquired in that slow drawl she would later come to know so well.
“Yes?”
“Kelsey Bennett?”
“Yes,” she said with more emphasis. She’d been lost in an order that had gone completely sideways and had left her wanting to rip her hair out at the way the subcontractors had tiled the bathrooms of Trevor’s “milk cartons.” They’d installed the blue and white tiles meant for the kitchen instead of the cream faux-marble bathroom tiles, and vice versa. Furious and sure that Trevor would blame her entirely, she just wanted to scream—and her cool voice warned the caller that he was about to be first inline.
“Can I help you?” she clipped out, her voice daring him to continue.
With amusement heavy in his voice, he said, “Well, you sound a little out of sorts.”
“I am. Who’s this? Make it quick. It’s not that kind of day.” He abruptly broke into laughter, which only irritated Kelsey further. She knew she was being rude but she didn’t much care. She was about to hang up on him when he introduced himself. “It’s Jarred Bryant.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I was hoping for that tour, but maybe this isn’t the time.”
“Tour,” she repeated, jolted. “Oh, you want to see the condos?”
“I’d like to. Is there a time today that you can get away and show me around? Or is that out of the question?”
Her mind raced. She had so much to do. And Trevor would not be pleased to have Jarred Bryant poking around his property, no matter how much Kelsey might try to act as if it didn’t matter. “Well, I could go… now,” she suggested.
“Then how about I meet you over there and maybe we could do lunch afterward.”
Kelsey hesitated the merest fraction of a second. “That would be great.”
“Good. See you there.”
It was September. One of the warmest days of the year. Kelsey instantly glanced down at her blue shift and wished for all the world she’d worn something a little newer today. A little more glamorous. A little more formfitting.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind she uttered a sound of self-disgust. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d been photographed with every beautiful woman in Seattle, in the state of Washington, and on the entire West Coast. How, in God’s name, could she even think he would look at her? Jarred Bryant was out of her league, and that was just fine and dandy because he was undoubtedly a heartbreaker, a jerk, and a self-absorbed autocrat used to having his own way. So thinking, she tried to banish thoughts of her own apparel out of her head, succeeding not at all. Consequently, by the time she arrived to meet him, she was in a complete mental dither over everything and anything—all the things that couldn’t possibly matter.
He was waiting next to a dark blue Mercedes when she pulled up in her own rather dilapidated compact Chevy. In a black Polo shirt and tan chinos, he looked ready to hit the links, although she learned later that golf was not his sport. Flying was his passion, and on many weekends, he would take out the Cessna and Kelsey would accompany him to Portland, Vancouver, British Columbia, or San Francisco. But on that day, the world was new and all Kelsey could think about was the disparity in how she felt about her appearance against Jarred Bryant’s cool composure.
“Hi,” she said and, to her horror, felt the beginnings of a blush. She wasn’t prone to blushing. Not at all! So why now? Why with him? It was practically beyond bearing.
“Hello.” He stepped away from the car and walked toward her, and Kelsey struggled hard to remember that he was just a man, after all, and acting as if he were some kind of celebrity or lesser god was very bad form indeed.
She took a calming breath. “I’ve got the keys to one of the units with a view and another without a view. They’re priced accordingly, and the viewless units are a steal of a deal.”
She realized he was staring at her, and she wondered if she was rambling. She hurried up the short walkway to the unit, unlocked the door, then stepped aside and waited for him to follow.
He glanced around and his brows lifted. “They are nice inside,” he agreed.
Kelsey walked toward the kitchen, where a small island, painted white and then antiqued to look “distressed,” was the focal point. The rest of the cabinets were just touched across the crown molding with the antiquing. Noticing the way Jarred examined them, she said, “We did that to save money. Less time-consuming for the painters and therefore a better deal.”
“Your idea?”
“Well, yes. But Trevor approved.”
“I’m sure.” He shot her a sideways grin, for Trevor was notorious for being cheap in his personal life. The man could certainly build a quality product, but Kelsey knew from experience that it killed Trevor to part with an extra nickel here or there. Not that he couldn’t waste money on the most god-awful decisions; she’d had to explain more than a few terrible architectural blunders away as Trevor’s “unique vision,” a euphemism that fooled no one.
Jarred wandered through the unit, and then Kelsey took him to another one, which she’d had painted in warm yellows to brighten the rooms, thereby keeping the attention within the town house rather than at the dismal view outside of rooftops and nearby buildings.
“These really are a surprise inside,” Jarred said. “Trevor must be happy with what you’ve done.”
“He won’t be as thrilled with what happened today,” she said, making a face. Then she found herself telling Taggert Inc.’s most serious competitor about the tile mishap and her battle with the subcontractor to fix the problem. Jarred listened intently as they walked back to their cars, and when Kelsey finished, she suddenly worried that she’d said too much.
But he didn’t comment. He just opened the passenger door of the Mercedes and motioned for Kelsey to slide in. She hesitated briefly, but what was she supposed to do? Demand to follow him in her car to their chosen lunch locale? There was nothing wrong with going on a “date” with Jarred Bryant.
In the close confines of the vehicle she was supremely aware of him next to her. His long legs stretched out in front of him and his scent—something masculine and deep and musky—seemed to reach over and pull her in. It was unfair that he was so supremely male, she thought, as they headed into traffic.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“Anywhere.”
They ended up at an Irish pub called McNaughton’s. Kelsey ordered Irish stew at Jarred’s suggestion, and when the owner of the establishment came by and clapped Jarred on the back like an old friend, Kelsey looked up to realize that faces were turned and staring at them. Even within the confines of their wooden booth, they were noticed. Jarred was well known here, and the knowledge bothered her in ways she couldn’t quite define.
“And who is this?” the owner asked, giving Kelsey a wink.
“Kelsey Bennett, meet Mac. An old friend.”
“Mac?” she inquired.
“Everybody calls me Mac. Short for McNaughton, y’understand.”
“He doesn’t possess a first name,” Jarred said.
“Don’t need one,” the man agreed with a certain amount of pride. “Now Kelsey’s a good name. You Irish?”
“More like a mutt. A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”
He grinned at her. “For today, a little more Irish than the rest!”
She couldn’t remember the rest of the meal. The food was good—delicious really—but it could have been ashes for all she really tas
ted it. Jarred discussed the waterfront and his plans to redevelop some of the older warehouses and demolish some of the worst of them. She mentioned that Trevor was doing much the same thing.
By the time he drove her back to her car, it was nearly three o’clock, and she knew Trevor would be having a cow. Jumping from the vehicle, she leaned back inside. “Thanks so much. I had a great time this afternoon.”
“So did I.”
“And you’re not the evil foe I’ve heard so much about,” she added with sudden candor.
It intrigued Jarred. “Oh, Trevor has nice things to say about me?”
“The best. You have no idea.”
“Well, it’s all true,” he drawled. “Beware. You’ve been forewarned.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“I’d like to see you again,” he said, and the intensity of his gaze caused her breath to catch in her throat.
“That would be… acceptable,” she managed.
He smiled at her choice of word and said, “I’ll call.”
And he did. The very next day. And they went to dinner. Then to a play. Then to a social event that required Kelsey to rifle through her clothes to find a dress nice enough for the evening. And then they ended up at the house he was building on Lake Washington, the one they moved into after their wedding. It was framed, and that was about it. Jarred spread a blanket on the plywood floor of what would be the master bedroom and they made love for the first time, whispering and touching, laughing like schoolchildren, reveling in the moment as a white moon sailed in the sky and poured bright light through the window frames to illuminate their tossing bodies.
It was a moment forever captured in her memory. She could still see their pale skin, hear the cadence of their quickened breathing, feel the hot desire that melted them together.
Kelsey shook herself out of her reverie, feeling heat climb up her neck. Good Lord, she was susceptible! How could that be? How could she still feel this way when she’d learned to hate him.
Why? When did things change?
From the moment I met his family, she answered herself.
Not Without You Page 7