by Jill Jones
Beleaguered by doubts, Jack knew only one thing for certain. Although she had made the decision to leave, he was responsible for making it happen. Now, he must protect her as she began her new life. He must keep her from harm and help her make the difficult adjustments he knew lay ahead of her.
But could he keep his selfish motives out of it? For among those motives was an undeniable and intense physical attraction to Keely Cochrane.
When they reached the dock at Penzance, Kevin Spearman took the line of the boat with an air of amazement that turned to a deep scowl.
“Ye should not be meddlin’ with th’ Dragoners,” he scolded Jack.
“Just keep your mouth shut,” Jack said, and handed him a hefty tip. “You didn’t see us.”
He led Keely to the inn where he quickly gathered his belongings and made sure Maggie Evans’ lips were sealed. She promised to say nothing, and this time took his money.
Jack helped Keely, who was clearly dazed, into the passenger seat of the rental car and fastened the seatbelt around her. He caught the scent of lavender in her hair which sent a disconcerting message straight to those selfish motives he worried about. He longed to lose himself in those black cascades, to kiss those full lips in reassurance, but he reminded himself that his was the role of protector, not seducer.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
Her face was pale, her eyes large and worried, but he couldn’t tell what thoughts lay behind their turbulent beauty.
“What’s ‘okay’?” she asked.
Her naive reply tugged at his heartstrings. Jack grinned and tousled her hair, explaining what the expression “okay” meant. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Keely,” he said, “but please don’t be afraid. And don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
His playful gesture with her hair bared her neck briefly, revealing the curious, tiny red mark similar to the one he’d seen on Alyn Runyon’s neck. He recalled now noticing it yesterday when he first met Keely. A birthmark shared by uncle and niece? He closed the door and locked it. He’d ask her about it sometime, but right now, his only concern was to get her out of the area unseen by anyone who might recognize her.
Chapter Eleven
Keely remained silent as he drove, and Jack guessed she was in a mild state of shock. He had to remind himself that everything she saw and experienced right now, everything he took for granted, even something as common as riding in the car, was unfamiliar to her, and he must be careful not to overwhelm her. She was frightened enough as it was.
He kept to the main highway, speculating that Alyn Runyon was stalking his prey in more rural areas. Reaching the A30, he headed northeast, automatically returning to London, when it occurred to him that if he didn’t want to overwhelm her, he probably ought to give her a few days to adjust to the outside world in a more familiar locale. A check of the map showed several towns on the Cornish coast far enough to the north of Keinadraig that her uncle would not likely come searching for her there.
“How about starting your new life on vacation?” he suggested, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
She furrowed her brows. “On vacation?”
“On holiday,” he explained using the British expression. It had never occurred to him that her vocabulary would be so limited.
“Would that be…okay?” Her voice was soft, childlike, trusting, and it wrenched Jack’s heart.
“To take a break? Of course, it’s okay. You’re tired and have been through a lot. You could use a few days’ rest, some good food, and some peace and quiet to think things through before we head into London. Everyone takes a vacation every once in a while.”
“Except Dragoners,” Keely replied without humor.
“You’re no longer a Dragoner,” he ventured. “What do you say?”
She considered that for a long moment, then nodded slowly, but there were tears in her eyes.
It was midafternoon when Jack and Keely arrived in Fowey, a village carved into a coastal hillside, with narrow winding streets and houses perched on steep slopes that commanded a view of the protected harbor. Jack found an inn and booked two rooms, both with an ocean view. It was only then, when there was but one suitcase to carry in, that it hit him that all Keely owned in the world were the clothes on her back.
After they were settled, he suggested they explore the quaint village on foot. “First stop, somewhere to eat,” he said, affecting an ease he didn’t quite feel. “Then we’ll find a store or two and get what you need, at least for now.”
Although it was faint, she rewarded him with the first smile he’d seen on her face that day. But it faded as quickly as it came.
“What’s the matter?” Jack asked.
“Jack…,” she said, seeming to search for words. “I…I do na wish to be a burden to ye, but I have no money.” She looked miserable as she added, “I fear I am bringing ye nothing but trouble.”
Jack tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him, his emotions tightening his throat. “I told you not to worry, didn’t I? You don’t need money, not for now. I have money. Let me help you get on your feet.”
She shook her head. “I do na like favors, Jack.”
As much as he wanted her to accept his help, he could relate to her hesitation. He’d always resisted the gifts from Garrison, considering them little more than charity. But now he was on the giving end, and it felt good that he could help someone else. It occurred to him for the first time that maybe that was one reason Garrison had helped him, because it felt good.
“I do na either,” he replied with a grin, imitating her speech. “So don’t consider this a favor. Look, Keely, we all need help at some time in our lives. People have helped me. Now let me help you.”
“It’s just that I do na…do not,” she mimicked his speech in return, “know when…or how…I can repay you.”
Jack guessed she was afraid of the kind of “payment” he might be looking for. He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “You are safe with me,” he told her solemnly. “I will not hurt you, and I won’t ask anything…untoward.”
Her expression said she wanted to believe him, but he wasn’t sure she did.
Keely hoped she was in a dream and that soon she would awaken and find that she had not done the unthinkable. That she had not betrayed the Dragon and the laws and her uncle.
That she had not run away with a total stranger.
It appeared, however, as if she had done all that. This was no dream. The sky above was blue, the trees green. The sun was warm on her face. Scents from the garden tweaked her nose. Jack Knight, solid as a mountain, stood in front of her, his hands resting on her shoulders.
No. This was real. But how did she get here? Everything that had happened in the past few hours seemed like a blur. She vaguely remembered getting into the boat with Jack, recalled traveling in the car at an alarming rate of speed down a ribbon of serpentine road. But there seemed to be no thoughts attached to those actions or any others since she’d left Keinadraig. It was as if her mind had clouded over and was only now beginning to clear again.
Keely shivered in spite of the warmth of the sun’s rays. What had she done? By the Saints, she was a fool! She did not know anything about the man who stood disconcertingly close to her. Although he had promised to help her, he could be Genny’s murderer for all she knew.
She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip to keep her emotions in check. She must not come apart now. She must think clearly, decide what to do. She could not stay with a stranger, no matter how kind he had been to her. She should not remain here at all. Perhaps if she went back now, before Alyn had time to return, she would be allowed to stay.
Behind her eyelids, however, she saw Alyn’s face as she’d seen it the day before, reddened, contorted with anger…just before he’d hit her. And again last night, when he’d sentenced her to confinement on the island, and to a marriage she did not want. It was not a face she wanted to confront again. And as far as stayin
g with the stranger, would she not be forced to stay—for the rest of her life—with the stranger Alyn was bringing for her to wed?
Her heart palpitated furiously, making her lightheaded and a little nauseous. She turned away from Jack and went to a nearby bench, sinking into it, holding her head in her hands until the wave passed.
“Keely! What’s wrong?” Jack covered the distance between them in one long stride.
“I…I’m feeling a little strange, ‘tis all.”
He knelt beside her and took her hand again. He touched her face lightly and smoothed her hair. “You’ve a right to feel strange, Keely. It wasn’t easy what you did. You are a very brave woman.”
How comforting his words sounded. Supportive. Encouraging. Not threatening or fearful. She let them float down into her heart, hoping they would soothe her troubled spirit. They helped, but they didn’t remove her fear and confusion. “Oh, Jack, I’m so addled,” she admitted.
He moved to sit beside her, and she felt his arm encircle her protectively. She allowed herself to lean into him, to take courage from him, if only for a moment. He held her tenderly, as a father would a frightened child, and yet not like that at all. He calmed her with quiet reassurances uttered somewhere near her ear.
“Shhh, it’ll be okay,” he told her, and his attempt to comfort her brought new tears to her eyes. How she wished she could believe him.
But Keely knew her life was not “okay.” Would not be okay for a long time, maybe never. It was tempting to huddle in Jack’s arms and trust him. To let him take care of her. But she must not do that, or she would just be trading one kind of prison for another. She had run from Keinadraig because she desperately wanted the freedom to make choices in her life. Now she must sort things out for herself and not depend upon this stranger, no matter how appealing both he and his reassurances were.
“You must be hungry.” Jack’s voice filtered into her her thoughts, and she realized that she was hungry indeed.
“I…I’ve had nothing all day,” she murmured, distressed that she had left in such a hurry, and she’d brought no money with her. She could not even buy a meal. She did not wish this man’s charity, but at the moment, it was her only choice. But she would keep an accounting, and as soon as she could, she would repay every pence he spent on her.
They found a cozy pub along a side street near the quay, and Keely was relieved to discover the food listed on the menu was much the same as she’d served in her own tiny pub—Cornish pasties, meat and cheese sandwiches, fish and chips. Something familiar in this all-new world. But there were other items as well, with names like pizza and cappuccino, things she and Genny had seen on their forays but never tried.
“What sounds good to you?” Jack asked, gazing at her over the top of his menu. Why did she find those sea-blue depths so…captivating? She felt her heart flutter again, but this time not from distress.
She started to select something familiar, then hesitated and grinned. She had wanted choices. Now, even in small matters, she had choices of things she’d never dreamed about.
“What’s pizza?”
Keely thought she’d never tasted anything so divine when she sank her teeth into a cheese-drenched piece of the steaming hot pizza they shared a short while later. She felt a little guilty at the pleasure. It seemed so…decadent. Yet Jack assured her it was common fare all over the world.
The world! How big it must be. Keely shut out that thought before she could frighten herself. She must take one step at a time. Her world at the moment was already almost more than she could handle. There was so much to think about. So many new experiences. So many choices and decisions to make.
But her new world seemed a friendly place. There did not appear to be evil lurking in every corner, as she and Genny had been led to believe. Jack certainly was not evil, and the innkeeper and pub servant had both been amiable and helpful. She finished one of the pie-shaped pieces and leaned back against the wooden booth with a sigh, relaxing for the first time since Genevieve left.
She heard a ringing sound and watched as Jack took his portable telephone from its carrier on his belt. It was another of the miracles of the outside world. A tiny black box with no wires leading to it. Yet he claimed it carried the voices of callers as clearly as the old-fashioned phone in Alyn’s office. Keely had little experience with phones, but she had answered the one in the Council office for her uncle a time or two. Maybe sometime Jack would show her how to use this one.
Jack looked at the phone, and his face darkened before he even answered it. Keely’s nerves tensed immediately. Something was wrong. Jack jammed his finger at a button and put the phone to his ear.
“Hello. Who is this?” His voice was harsh, angry almost. “Hello? Hello?” He listened a moment, then took the phone from his ear and pressed another button.
“Who was it?” Keely asked, deeply apprehensive.
Jack glanced at her, and she saw him work to replace his own worried look with a smile. He shrugged and returned the telephone to its holder.
“Nobody. Wrong number, I suppose.”
Jack had not lied to Keely. Not exactly. There had been nobody on the line. Or at least, nobody who said anything. But he knew it wasn’t a wrong number. The digital screen had shown the number of the incoming call to be from the phone in the Council office in Keinadraig.
Somebody was trying to locate them. The thought turned his blood cold. Was there any way his phone could be traced to a particular location? He did not think so, especially without technical help. Surely no one on Keinadraig knew the technology; Jack doubted that any of the Dragoners knew the technology even existed.
Still, someone, probably Alyn Runyon, had placed a call. He frowned, trying to remember if he’d given Runyon his cellular number. He didn’t think so. But if not Runyon, then who? How had some other Dragoner learned the number? And why had they hung up?
With regret, Jack saw the haunted, frightened expression had returned to Keely’s face when only moments before she had shown signs of relaxing. He hated himself for revealing his concern about the call. “Don’t worry,” he tried to assure her, slipping a fork beneath another piece of pizza and scooping it onto her plate. “Wrong numbers happen all the time. People misdial, then hang up when they don’t recognize who answered. Here. Have another piece. I didn’t know they made pizza this good in England.”
Keely ate, but she did not relax again.
After lunch, they walked the cobblestone streets of the small town in search of stores where Keely could pick out some clothing and personal toiletry items, enough to tide her over until they reached London. In a boutique, with help from a friendly clerk, she selected two dresses, a cardigan, a nightgown, robe and undergarments, the latter of which brought some more of those selfish motives to Jack’s mind.
They picked up toiletries from a chemist’s shop that stocked a wealth of bath and body products alongside pharmaceuticals. Jack had grown up with a sister, so he knew some things a woman needed, but he found it embarrassing trying to guide Keely in the selection of things of an intimate nature. Finally, he cornered a saleswoman and explained that his friend was not familiar with British products and asked if she could help Keely. Obviously thinking Keely was unfamiliar because she was an American tourist on holiday, probably with a lot of money, the woman took on the assignment with gusto, but when she returned Keely to Jack, laden with a large plastic bag of items, both women looked aggravated and distressed.
While Jack paid the bill, the saleswoman told him with scarcely veiled contempt that she’d never had a customer who did not even known what toothpaste was. He didn’t want to think about what other items in that bag Keely might never have heard of, or know what to do with. Oh, God, what had he done in urging her to leave the protection of the island?
With a glare at the rude saleswoman, Jack took the bag in one hand and Keely’s elbow in the other. “Come on,” he said brusquely, unable to hide the embarrassment he felt for Keely at what had happened.
They walked several blocks in silence, when suddenly Keely stopped. She turned to Jack, her eyes flashing. “I did na mean to embarrass ye.” Her voice quavered with anger. “I just did na know about…such things.” She held up the bag from the chemist’s.
Jack felt like a schmuck when he realized he had been embarrassed, and not just for Keely. Because of the personal nature of the purchases, he’d let the woman’s comments nettle him, when he should have shot back some kind of smart reply in Keely’s defense. Some kind of protector he was.
“I’m sorry, Keely. I should have told the old bat off. She had no right to talk to you like that. You did just fine. I was the one who screwed up.”
“Screwed up?”
Jack laughed and touched her cheek lightly with the knuckles of one hand. “Botched it. Blew it. Made a mistake.” He paused, the desire to kiss her almost overwhelming his good sense. He swallowed. He didn’t want to botch-it-blow-it-make-another-mistake with her now. Or ever. “Forgive me?”
Her face softened. “There is nothing to forgive. I do have much to learn.” She laughed nervously, revealing her own embarrassment. “And there are some things a man just can na teach a woman.”
Jack’s mind immediately conjured up some things a man could teach a woman like her, and his mouth went dry. He must quit thinking things like that.
“I know you’re tired. I’ll take you back to the inn and you can take a hot bath, catch a nap. I need to make some calls. Then we’ll meet up again for dinner.” He knew his plans sounded military, dictatorial even, but it was the only way to discipline his thoughts and bring them back into line.
He saw her to her room, which was next door to his, and showed her how to latch the door securely from the inside. “This world is safe enough, but you must be careful,” he warned. “Always lock your doors.” He waited outside her room until he heard the deadbolt turn. What if somehow her uncle found her? Would a deadbolt be enough to protect her from that old dragon?