Aces High

by Kay Hooper

  She grimaced. “A complete villain.”

  “He isn’t a nice boy,” Skye agreed dryly, then immediately went on. “The sun’s up, and we have a few hours before the park opens. Want to get started?”

  Katrina nodded and slid from the booth, stretching absently in the natural and unconscious movement of one early in the morning. Then she saw Skye looking at her with suddenly darkened eyes as he rose, and she hastily began moving toward the door. “Where to first?” she asked, disturbed at the breathless sound of her own voice.

  “The Haunted Mansion is closest,” he said steadily.

  “Right.” Very conscious of him at her shoulder, of his size and the curiously fluid grace of his stride, she walked with him out of the restaurant.

  Sometime during the dark predawn hours Katrina had faced the inescapable realization that she felt too much for the man now walking silently beside her. Unwilling to define those feelings, she nevertheless knew there was something primal about them, something far stronger than her memories of what had once existed between them. Before, she had been emotionally young and innocent in many ways, still more girl than woman, and with a girl’s recklessness. The passion between them had been astonishingly powerful, the pleasure she found in his arms intense beyond anything she’d ever imagined, yet she knew, looking back, that her very youth and inexperience coupled with the brief time they’d had together had protected her heart.

  She had loved, but Skye had been right in believing that how much she had loved could be questioned. Knowing the answer now, she faced it. She had loved him with a girl’s unconscious, unaware selfishness, and the loss of him, though agonizing, had not been crippling. She had survived.

  But now…These feelings frightened her. They were too powerful, too compelling. It was desire she felt, but much more than that, sharper, more primitive, essential. Her mind was in turmoil, wary and confused, yet her body and instincts responded to him on a level deeper than anything she had ever felt.

  She was no longer a girl, and she knew without question that her woman’s heart could not be touched only lightly. Lessons in survival had built a wall around her heart and soul, and if she loved again, that wall would fall into ruins. If she loved him again—if, in the end, he left her again—there would be no surviving that loss.

  “Katrina?”

  She looked up at him and felt the breath catch in her throat, vaguely aware that they had reached the Haunted Mansion. In spite of the space separating them as they stood there, she could feel the heat of his big body and the sheer physical power that was like a living force inside him. She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans, and fought desperately to ignore the fierce pull of compulsive attraction.

  “Sorry. My mind was—miles away. How do you want to go about this?” Her voice sounded normal to her.

  He shook his head slightly, as if throwing off some thought, and said, “First, the way the governor would—as a park visitor going on a ride.”

  “I’ll start it up,” she said, moving away from him.

  Skye remained where he was, watching her walk toward a side door of the big Victorian mansion. He had told himself he could handle this, that he could be with her companionably, but he was finding his control was in little better shape than his pride was where she was concerned. For the first time in years he wished he had Dane’s control, but their differing personalities and talents made that a hollow wish.

  Skye had little of his brother’s patience, virtually none of his tranquility, and where Dane was cautious, Skye was all too often reckless to the point of madness.

  It did no good at all for Skye to tell himself that it would take care and caution this time to build the necessary trust between him and Katrina. And it was useless to remind himself that if he moved too quickly he could lose her forever. That was what he was afraid of—losing her. And because of that fear all his instincts urged him to grab her and hold on tight. His own nature demanded swift action. It quite simply wasn’t in him to play a waiting game for very long; he had too many instincts of the hunter.

  Just as his first savage impulse had been to make her respond to him physically, his compulsion now was to see beneath her composure and find the primitive emotions he felt himself. He knew he could reach her through passion. He knew it because he had seen and felt her response to him. And no matter how reasonably his mind warned of the dangers of following that path, he was fighting a losing battle with himself.

  He moved finally toward the main door of the mansion, remembering how she had looked in the restaurant as she had stretched lazily. Lord, she was beautiful! Her fiery hair was confined in a single braid hanging down her back; her slender body, clothed in snug jeans and a knit top, was sexier than any other woman’s he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to make his voice and words casual when he was with her, and he knew himself too well to believe he could keep himself from touching her for much longer.

  She came out of the side door and walked to join him at the main entrance, composed as always. “I’ve turned on the power,” she told him. “The switch is inside beside the first car. Just get in and throw the lever, and the entire system is activated.”

  “Come with me,” he said.

  Katrina backed up a step, then drew herself up rather stiffly. “I’d rather not,” she said. “This isn’t a…a favorite ride of mine.”

  He reached out and took her hand firmly, leading her through the doorway despite her slight resistance. “You can explain the system while we go through it,” he said reasonably. “The cars are designed for two anyway,” he added as they saw the line of silently waiting vehicles perched on the double track that wound through the house.

  “Skye, I’d rather not,” she said steadily.

  If he had paused a moment to think, he would have realized why she was reluctant, but her hesitation seemed to him to be a desire to avoid being close to him, and his impulsive temper was ignited. “Get in,” he ordered roughly.

  She glanced up at his face just once, then silently got into the car and sat on the padded seat, her hands clasped together tensely in her lap. He joined her and reached out to throw the switch that set the car in motion.

  The half-shell-shaped car jolted forward, banging through a set of swinging doors and plunging into darkness. Skye heard a gasp beside him, and realized then, in a stark instant, what he was doing to her.

  Oh, God! She hated enclosed places!

  Especially when they were dark.

  Swearing at his own insensitivity, he slipped an arm around her in the small car and held her tightly to his side, feeling her stiffen even more as eerie howls and moans erupted from the darkness all around them. The car wasn’t moving very fast, but Skye didn’t know where the nearest exit was and doubted that Katrina did; it wouldn’t diminish her fears at all if they left the car and tried feeling their way blindly to an exit.

  So he could only hold her and curse himself.

  The car wound jerkily through the huge house, moving from total darkness through a variety of weirdly lighted rooms while various creatures leaped out at them and keening sounds echoed off the walls. In some of the rooms dioramas with mechanical figures acted out bizarre scenes, while in others the projected images of ghostly inhabitants danced or ate serene meals.

  Skye thought the ride would never end, and the moment their car bumped against the others waiting patiently in the lighted entrance hall he climbed out, pulling Katrina with him—and straight into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he said thickly, holding her tense, shaking body hard against his own. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” She tried to push herself back away from him, but he wouldn’t release her.

  “No, it isn’t all right, dammit! Trina, I just didn’t stop to think. My bloody temper…I wanted you with me, and I—” He had a vivid memory from their days together six years ago of her terror of closets and tiny rooms, particularly dark ones. Now he realized that the months she had spent in pri
son had very probably made those fears even stronger.

  She looked up at him, her amber eyes only beginning to lose the look of terror. “I should have gotten over it by now, but…It was the cell in Germany and they turned out the lights so early…I’ve finally gotten used to elevators—” She caught her breath, her mouth firming as she stopped the disjointed words and held the fear at bay. “I’m all right now,” she finished in a much steadier voice.

  Skye didn’t let her go, hating himself for what he’d put her through. What little control he had managed was now gone. His body was reacting to her closeness wildly, and only the ache in his jaw made him realize that his teeth were tightly clamped together. He forced out words that emerged hoarsely. “I’m a thoughtless bastard, sweetheart, but I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know.” She sounded uncertain suddenly, gazing up at him with dawning awareness.

  The soft pressure of her breasts against his chest inflamed his senses, and he half closed his eyes in a pleasure that was pain. “Lord, you feel so good against me. Trina…”

  Katrina couldn’t move. The urgency of his voice and words sent a flare of heat through her body until it settled deep in her belly to torment her. She felt her lower body move of its own volition, seeking, pressing against him, and a gasp tore from her throat when his body hardened instantly.

  Skye made a rough sound and bent his head, his mouth finding hers in a kiss so deep and filled with need it was almost like a blow. Katrina would have collapsed if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, all her senses spinning in a dizzying rush. He was starving, she was starving, and the blood ran through her veins like fire.

  She had forgotten this—or had it been like this before? She didn’t know, couldn’t remember. All she could do was feel. The stark power of his big, hard body made her shockingly frail, and the heat of him burned her. What a life force he had. Her body, moving against his hardening loins unconsciously, recognized only the raw virility it craved so helplessly.

  But she tried to think, tried to remember the price she could be called upon to pay for this heedless passion, and when his lips left hers finally, she managed a whispered protest. “No. No, Skye, it’s too soon.”

  “It was almost too damned late,” he said harshly against her throat, his mouth moving caressingly, his tongue touching the pulse hammering beneath her soft flesh. “Six years…” His fingers found the elastic band holding the end of her braid and plucked it away, causing her unruly hair to swiftly unwind itself as though it were alive.

  Katrina couldn’t remember sliding her arms around his waist, but her hands were somehow probing the rippling muscles of his back through his black T-shirt, and when he widened his legs and pressed harder against her she felt her fingers dig into him.

  “I want you,” he said gutturally, lifting his head. His blazing eyes caught her dazed stare and his arms were like iron around her.

  She shook her head, unable to look away. “I can’t think. Please, Skye, don’t push me! You said you wouldn’t—”

  His mouth twisted. “I know what I said. I even meant it. But this waiting is killing me.”

  “Waiting? We met again less than twenty-four hours ago,” she protested, and the truth of that made her husky voice honestly indignant.

  Skye couldn’t help but laugh. “I know, I know.”

  Another truth—he was bent on sweeping her off her feet a second time—gave Katrina both the strength and the will to push herself away from him. She couldn’t help realizing, though, that she escaped his hold only because he chose to let her. “You think it’s just a matter of time, don’t you?” she demanded.

  “We both know it is,” he said in a taut voice.

  “No, you’re wrong.” She thought of giving way to him and to her own passion, and the fear of that made her voice shake.

  “Am I? I know what you were feeling a moment ago, Trina, because I was feeling it too.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides, muscles bulging in his arms.

  Katrina felt her breath catch in her throat, and a hot shiver rippled through her body. She hadn’t fought the feelings between them six years before, and so she had never seen this side of him. His intensity was a palpable force, reaching out to her, pulling at her. He was impatient, a little rough, almost primitive. He wanted her, and he wasn’t prepared to wait much longer.

  Wait. He knew they’d be lovers in the end, no matter how much she protested.

  She tried to speak evenly. “I’m not denying that, Skye. I can’t. But I’m not—not impulsive anymore. I have to be sure this time.”

  His jaw tightened suddenly. “You weren’t last time?”

  Katrina hesitated. “I thought I was. I loved you. But I was very young, and we had so little time together. Since then I’ve learned how important it is to be sure of how I feel.”

  “You want me,” he stated bluntly. “And it’s real, Trina.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was soft. “But is passion all? Is it all we’re both feeling? If you want only that—”

  “What?” His eyes were glittering with a hard light. “You’ll spread your legs willingly, sweet? Throw the dog a bone so he’ll stop yapping in your ears?”

  She stepped back jerkily.

  Immediately Skye said, “Dammit, I didn’t mean—” He broke off, flushing.

  Katrina was so angry she couldn’t speak for a moment, and when she forced the words out, her voice was deceptively mild. “If you want to search this house with all the lights on, the switch is over there on the wall. I’ll go check out the big Ferris wheel.” She turned and walked out the door.

  —

  Dane was up unusually early, and he was already wearing his gambler’s costume as he wandered through the park. He knew his restlessness was due partly to Skye; despite his casual attitude the previous night, Dane hadn’t been deceived into believing that his brother’s troubles were all behind him. The wounds men and women inflict on each other rarely heal quickly, and Skye’s own impatience when it came to getting what he wanted was apt to make him act before thinking.

  Because those insights were much on his mind as he walked, Dane’s first glimpse of the beautiful woman sitting near the Ferris wheel was accompanied by an almost instinctive recognition.

  Katrina.

  Skye had said little about her since the tragedy of Germany, but Dane remembered his brother’s letter announcing his marriage more than six years before. And he had no doubt, as he walked toward her, that this woman with the long, wild red curls and amber cat’s eyes was Skye’s ex-wife.

  She was mad as hell too, he realized, noting the sparks in those yellow eyes and the firm set of her lips. He wondered what she would make of him, and curiosity, as well as the desire to help his brother if he could, made up his mind to meet her now.

  She looked up as he neared, her eyes widening and then narrowing swiftly, both startled and speculative. And when she spoke, her faintly husky, surprisingly gentle voice was at odds with the lingering temper in her gaze. “You’re Dane.”

  He smiled, stopping before her. “Yes. And you’re Katrina.”

  She looked him up and down with a total lack of self-consciousness. “Identical,” she said wryly. “I couldn’t believe it when he told me.”

  “I’m told it’s a bit hard to get used to,” he offered.

  It had taken Katrina almost an hour to check the structure and all the cars of the Ferris wheel, and she was still furious when she had finally sat down on a bench near the ride. Now, looking up at the almost mirror-image of Skye—there was a mustache, but it didn’t make Dane look very different—she tried to control her still boiling anger. “He’s told you about me, I see.”

  “Oh, yes,” Dane answered mildly. His smile held a softer charm than Skye’s, and his voice was lazier.

  She studied him curiously, surprised to feel instantly comfortable with him. There was none of the prickling awareness she felt around Skye, and something told her that this brother had a great deal more patience
and perhaps more kindness in him. “You and Skye are very different, aren’t you?”

  “Very,” he agreed, still smiling but with a serious gleam in his eye. Then, sympathetically, he added, “My brother can be a difficult man at times. I don’t mean to be nosy, but since you’re obviously mad as hell, I gather you two have had a fight?”

  It wasn’t in Katrina’s nature to confide easily, but she was so angry that didn’t seem to matter. Remembering Skye’s crude words, she winced. “You could say that.”

  “He has a touchy temper,” Dane said in a judicious tone, “and he doesn’t always stop to think before he speaks.” Then, quietly, he said, “Especially when his heart is involved.”

  Katrina looked away from those forceful eyes. It was another difference between the brothers, she realized. In Dane, that amazingly strong life force was confined in his eyes, but in Skye it was diffused throughout his entire powerful body. She tried a laugh that didn’t quite come off. “He obviously hasn’t told you everything if you believe his heart’s involved.”

  “He didn’t have to tell me,” Dane said simply.

  Torn between the need for reassurance and her wariness of the strong emotions Skye could awaken in her, she looked back at Dane’s grave face uncertainly.

  After a moment Dane said, “Skye’s spent a lot of time in the dark these last years—in more ways than one. He hasn’t let himself feel very much since Germany, but I believe seeing you again has made splinters of the protective wall he’d built around his emotions. It must feel like being caught in a sudden storm without warning. So if he seems impatient or even rough, maybe you should remember that you can hurt him every bit as much as he can hurt you.”

  Katrina shook her head slightly and fixed her gaze on the ground, unwilling to believe that.

  Dane sighed, and his voice was rueful. “I can see you’re as stubborn as he is. I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. It’ll take a hardheaded woman to manage my brother.”

  Her hard head came up hastily, and she stared at him.