Caught in the Crossfire

by Annette Broadrick

  He made short work of getting them undressed. Once in bed, he leaned over her, trailing kisses along her jaw and neck until he reached her breasts. "I've been having withdrawal symptoms all day."

  She sounded breathless when she replied. "Why?"

  "Because this is the longest I've gone without making love to you since our first night in Cancun."

  She drew in a sharp breath when his lips surrounded one of her nipples and tugged on it. "The honeymoon is over. We can't spend as much time in bed as we did all week."

  He raised his head. "Sure we can."

  Lindsey must have agreed with him because there was no more talking—just whispers, sighs and groans of pleasure.

  * * *

  The next morning while Lindsey made breakfast, Jared moved her belongings to the bedroom they had intended for her to use.

  After his last trip into the bedroom, he paused and sightlessly stared out the window.

  He was going to miss her. The better he got to know her, the more he liked her. Well, more than liked her. His feelings where she was concerned were confusing. Their week together hadn't been all fun and games. They'd spent time talking about their lives and what they wanted for the future. They'd spent hours when they were comfortably silent, just enjoying each other's company.

  As often as they'd made love, he should be content. And he was. Wasn't he? They had an agreement—they'd go their separate ways after the holidays.

  He reminded himself that he was the one who hadn't planned to marry anytime soon. Nothing had happened to change his mind.

  They could remain friends, at least. He'd like that. He would want to know how she liked working at the museum. They could always e-mail each other. He wasn't sure why he didn't find that so appealing.

  Snap out of it. Everything is going as planned.

  * * *

  They were seated on his back porch sometime around one o'clock—Jared didn't have on his watch, so he wasn't sure—when they heard a knock at the front door.

  He looked at her. "Our first caller. At least they waited until a decent hour to come barging in. I'll see who it is."

  She followed him into the living room and watched as he opened the front door.

  Jared was a little surprised to see his dad, who smiled when he saw him. But only with his lips—his eyes had a grim look about them that caused a frisson of unease.

  "Hi, Dad. Come on in."

  "Your trip agreed with you," Joe said, stepping inside. "You look rested and more tanned than usual." He saw Lindsey and nodded. "You look equally rested, Lindsey. Did you enjoy Cancun?"

  "Very much. We took lots of photographs. There's way too much to see there in just a week."

  "Sit down, Dad. Would you like some iced tea?"

  "No, thanks. I can't stay long."

  He sat in one of the chairs facing the sofa, so Jared motioned for Lindsey to join him on the couch. They sat a discreet foot apart. The shift in their relationship wasn't any of his dad's business, even if the man cared.

  Joe leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "I've got some news for you, Jared."

  "Okay."

  "I hired an investigator who found the man you met in the bar that night."

  "Really! Why, that's great, Dad. What did he have to say for himself?"

  "You had it pretty well worked out. He slipped something in your drink. Then he drove you to the Russell ranch and put you in bed with Lindsey."

  "But that's crazy. Why would he do that?" she asked.

  Joe studied her in silence for a moment, then softly said, "Good question, Lindsey. Maybe you could explain that to us."

  She looked at him with a bewildered expression. Jared had a sinking sensation in his stomach. He had a hunch he didn't want to know what his dad had discovered.

  "I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about," Lindsey said.

  "All right. I can accept that. Can you tell us why your father would hire a man to put Jared in bed with you?"

  Jared couldn't help it. He stared at her as though he didn't know her at all. Was it possible that she'd been a part of that? The thought turned his stomach.

  "My father!" She came to her feet in a rush. "How can you say something like that? My father would never stoop to such a thing. If this man is trying to pin his actions on my father, then he's a liar."

  She turned and walked out of the room. A moment later, the back door closed and he knew she'd returned to the back porch.

  "Is there any doubt?" Jared had to ask.

  "No. The man explained how, once the two of them got you undressed and into bed, the senator gave him a ride back to get his own car. The man never asked for a reason for doing it, and the senator didn't offer one. However, he paid him a healthy amount of money for his efforts."

  "That son of a—" Jared could no longer sit. He stood and began to pace. "I can't believe that bastard had the gall to set me up like that. And then demand that I marry his daughter!"

  "After I got the report, I discussed the whole matter with your mother, who was appalled to hear it and furious that I was only then telling her about it. So we're both in the doghouse about that one. She has a good head on her shoulders, Gail does. She thinks the senator must have wanted his daughter married off to a Crenshaw and you happened to be available."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Think about it. As controlling and manipulative as the man has been in other matters, why wouldn't he decide to choose his daughter's husband without bothering to consult either party?"

  Jared fought the rage that threatened to overcome him. The senator had been behind all of it. Had Lindsey been a part of the whole episode? Her righteous indignation just now, as well as at the scene in the café, could be sincere. Either that, or she was a great actress.

  "I'm sorry to be the one who had to tell you. I've got the investigator's report in the truck, if you want it."

  "Yeah, I'd like to see it."

  They walked outside and Joe opened the door to his truck, reached inside and came out with a large manila envelope. He handed it to Jared. "I don't know how much this changes things for you. As I recall, you two plan to split when you come back from Saudi, don't you?"

  Jared turned the envelope around in his hands. "That's the plan. I see no reason to change it."

  Joe laid his hand on Jared's shoulder. "I want to apologize for jumping to conclusions that morning."

  "Hell, who wouldn't have? It makes sense now that he wanted you to witness the setup and add your weight behind the pressure on us to get married."

  "You've certainly got grounds for annulment. You could probably file a complaint of kidnapping against him."

  "I know you're kidding, Dad. The sooner all of this is behind me, the better."

  "I guess you at least got an expensive vacation out of all this. I just hope it was worth being hoodwinked."

  "I don't like being made a fool of." Jared looked away. "It's a good thing I don't know where he is right now because I wouldn't be responsible for my actions." He looked back at Joe. "Have you told him that we know?"

  "Nope. The information is yours to do with as you wish." He got into his truck and said, "Oh, and there's one more thing."

  "What now?" Jared asked wearily.

  "Your mother would like to have a word with you."

  The two men looked at each other and, for the first time since he'd heard his father's news, Jared smiled. Thank goodness for family. "Tell her I'll see her soon, okay?"

  He watched his dad drive away, looked at the envelope in his hand and walked over to his truck, which was parked nearby. He pulled a few papers out and scanned them. The man—Ted Harper—had been candid in his discussion. He told the P.I. step by step how the senator had approached him and asked him to help him with something. Harper was quoted as saying he thought he was just helping to play a practical joke and that he hoped he wasn't in any trouble.

  He knew details that only the man who'd done it could know, and Jared could thi
nk of no reason for Harper to lie about the man who'd hired him. The P.I. had shown him a photo of Russell and Harper had confirmed that he was the man who'd hired him.

  So now he knew.

  Jared folded the papers and put them into his back pocket. As long as he was outside, he decided to unload the car. After putting the bags in the bedroom, he went around to the back porch. Lindsey sat there, staring into the distance.

  He climbed the steps and sat down next to where he'd left his glass of tea. The ice had almost melted, but it didn't matter. He emptied the glass before he carefully set it on the table between them.

  "You know," Lindsey said calmly without looking at him, "for some reason you and your family are determined to smear my father's reputation."

  "I have the report right here, if you want to read it." He leaned forward, pulled it out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

  "Oh, I'm sure that the man told your father's investigator exactly what he wanted to hear."

  "The man was there, Lindsey. I remember that much. And he knows too many details not to be telling the truth."

  "Except for who hired him, of course." She stood and walked to the back door. "I'm sure you're relieved that our farce of a marriage is effectively over."

  He stood, as well. "Lindsey, just listen for a minute, okay? What is important here, at least to me, is that I did not willingly come to your house and crawl into your bed. I wasn't the one who created the situation."

  "Neither was my father," she replied and went into the house.

  He gave his head a quick shake. The woman was blind to her father's faults and there wasn't a thing he could do about it, except maybe put a little space between them for a few hours.

  Jared walked back around to his truck, got in and drove away from the house.

  He had no particular destination in mind. He followed various winding roads in the Hill Country, his thoughts miles away. He was surprised when he eventually recognized that he was on the outskirts of San Antonio.

  By then, he realized that he needed to eat. He pulled into the first restaurant he saw.

  While he ate, he thought about Lindsey. About their week together. About how happy he'd been with her. He had a hunch that maybe he was more emotionally involved with her than he'd intended. His chest hurt, for some reason. What difference did any of this make now? Christmas was next week. Another week and they'd leave here, and that would be it.

  Nothing had happened to change their original plans. If Lindsey wanted to believe her father was a saint, who was he to attempt to ruin her illusions? At least the mystery was solved for him, which was important.

  He hoped they could part as good friends.

  It was dark when he pulled into the driveway and there were no lights on in the house. Not a good sign, Lindsey sitting there in the dark. He hadn't helped the situation any by leaving without telling her.

  He supposed it wouldn't hurt to work on their communication skills—outside of bed, that is, since that was one place where they seemed to have no trouble letting their wants and needs be known to each other.

  He walked into the house and flipped on the light switch.

  "Lindsey?" he called, walking into the hall.

  She didn't answer. He walked into the bedroom and turned on the light. The bed had been made up and the room straightened, but there was no sign of her.

  He went into the kitchen and flipped on the light. A piece of paper taped to the coffeemaker caught his attention.

  He pulled the paper off the coffeemaker and opened it.

  J,

  A friend is giving me a ride to the airport. I've decided to go to New York a little early. I would appreciate your keeping my belongings until I can have them sent to me. I placed what I couldn't take in the storage area off your back porch.

  L

  So this was the way she wanted to play it, was it? He supposed it was as good as any. He almost felt relieved that he didn't have to make awkward conversation with her.

  Why did he feel depressed just because she decided to leave early? He looked at the note again. He supposed it was because he'd hoped that they could continue as friends.

  There was no hope for that now.

  Eleven

  "You're in love with her, you know."

  Jared stared at his mother in disgust. "You know better than that."

  "Do I? Well, let's look at this. She's been gone now for—what?—almost two weeks. You've been going around looking like you lost your best friend ever since. You refused to celebrate Christmas with us. You're leaving early to go overseas. I think you miss her because you're in love with her."

  "Dream on."

  "Of course I wouldn't have bought all of those deliciously sexy clothes for her to wear if you'd bothered to tell me the truth." She paused and tilted her head slightly. "By the way, did they work?"

  "I can't believe you'd ask me such a question!"

  She nodded. "They worked, or your ears wouldn't be turning red."

  "You know, Gail," Joe drawled from across the table, "it's none of your business what he did on his honeymoon."

  She laughed. "I know! But I do love to see my sophisticated world-traveling son blushing. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

  "If you're through having fun at my expense, I think I'll go home now. I apologize about Christmas, but I wasn't in a celebrating mood. What I really wanted was silence, which is what I had."

  "Don't worry about it," Joe said, standing at the same time Jared did. "We missed you, of course, but the others didn't make it home, either. You've got your own lives and we understand that. I hate to see you so down, though."

  "Did I tell you I decided not to discuss the matter with the senator? I figured he'd lie about it, anyway. I'm moving on."

  * * *

  Jared drove up to his house and turned off the truck engine. He sat there staring at the place in which he'd been staying. Everything was back to normal. Lindsey's belongings were gone so there was no trace of her.

  He wished they hadn't made love the night they got home. As soon as he crawled into bed each night, memories of that night washed over him. He'd stripped the bed and put on fresh sheets, but her essence continued to linger in the room.

  His dreams disturbed him. They were a mix of his time with her in Cancun and some kind of fantasies his subconscious kept dreaming up to annoy him. Whether he was asleep or awake, his mind was on Lindsey.

  But he was not in love with her.

  He didn't want to be married, either to her or to anyone.

  He liked his life exactly the way it was, which was why he continued to sit in his truck and look at the house with no lights on.

  Irritated with himself, Jared got out of the truck and went inside. He'd thought about going into town and shooting some pool, but the idea of walking into the Mustang didn't appeal to him.

  He thought about calling one of the women he'd been seeing, but since he was married, he wasn't comfortable with the idea.

  Some marriage. It had lasted for eight days. And nights. He should be thankful everything happened the way it did. Had she stayed, they'd be playing house, pretending that they were in a real marriage—a marriage in which they talked about having children, and him quitting his job someday so he wouldn't spend so much of his time overseas.

  Funny how he could visualize Lindsey so clearly, holding a baby to her beautiful breasts, or dealing with a two-year-old or someone Heather's age.

  He'd never before given a thought to having a family, to settling down, so why was it he couldn't seem to get rid of those thoughts now?

  He was bored. Maybe he'd go to Houston and hang out with some of his geologist buddies there until it was time to return overseas. Good idea.

  A very good idea.

  * * *

  Janeen White, a fun-loving redhead, was worried about Lindsey. She'd been much too quiet ever since she'd arrived two weeks ago. Janeen had never seen her unflappable friend so despondent.

  Lin
dsey spent most of her time in bed. She slept the days away as though the world was too much for her to face. She made no effort to get dressed or comb her hair, unless Janeen nagged, or eat, unless Janeen stuck a plate in front of her and demanded she eat what was on it. Even then she only picked at her food, rearranging it more than eating it.

  Janeen wasn't too clear about what had happened. All she knew was that Lindsey insisted everything was fine. Cancun was fine. The water was fine. The hotel was fine. Her stay there was fine.

  Everything was just fine, except Lindsey was obviously miserable. She refused to discuss Jared, which meant that whatever had happened, her relationship with Jared was far from fine and Lindsey was taking it hard.

  Today Janeen was determined to do something about it.

  She opened Lindsey's door without knocking and said, "Happy New Year's Eve morning, Lindsey. Here, I brought you a cup of coffee to help you get started celebrating."

  Lindsey stood at the bedroom window with her arms crossed, still in her pajamas, staring out at the falling snow. "Thank you, Janeen. That's kind of you." She didn't turn around. "Please set it on the dresser."

  Ignoring her, Janeen placed the cup in Lindsey's hand before she stretched out on the nearby lounge. "You know, you've been here for two weeks and have barely said more than two words at a time. We talked more during our weekly phone conversations than we have since you arrived."

  Lindsey held the cup with both hands, as though to warm them. Her lips turned up at each corner in a travesty of a smile. "Sorry. I know I haven't been very good company. I've just had a lot on my mind."

  "I'm a little confused about what happened once you got back from Cancun. Would you run that past me again?"

  Janeen was counting on Lindsay's innate politeness to keep her from kicking her out the room. She watched Lindsey struggle with her very real desire to say, "It's none of your business. Leave me alone."

  So she waited, looking out the window as though she, too, were fascinated by the big snowflakes floating past. Eventually, Lindsey walked over to the bed and sat down against the headboard. She held one of her pillows against her chest as if it offered emotional protection. She sighed.