Close to Heart (14 page)

Franklin burst out laughing and Justin clenched his fists at his sides, barely keeping himself from punching the other man in the face. The last thing Lyssa needed was a spokesperson bearing a black eye on camera.

“Did you or did you not rescue her?” When Justin refused to answer, Franklin pressed on. “And do you really think everyone can’t see your feelings for her on your face? All you have to do is look at her.” Franklin grimaced. “You both look like lovesick teenagers.”

Justin didn’t hold back any longer and shoved both hands against Franklin’s chest, knocking him backward. “Shut up!”

“Why, because you don’t want her to know?” Franklin yelled back at him. “Or because you want to pretend it’s not true? I told you this would happen. It’s too late, you’re in too deep and there’s no going back now unless you want to leave her to that wolf she married. Because if you do, he’s going to tear her to shreds. I don’t want to see that happen and, right now, Hart, as much as I don’t like it and wish I had another alternative, you’re her only hope.”

“S
IR, YOU NEED
to see this.”

Elijah was growing weary of his assistant and his constant sense of doom. He was heading out later today to meet James in Sacramento. He might not be able to get within one hundred yards of Alyssa, but he was going to make sure she knew he was near, waiting for her to come to her senses. James was alerting the media of his presence so that they could “catch” his reaction to her cheating on camera, firmly rooting his status as the wronged man and ruining her reputation. He suspected she’d be begging him to let her return before the cameras powered down.

“Sir?”

“Yes,” he replied, exasperated, as he rose from behind his desk and came into the front-office reception area. The monitor had a video playing a tabloid show as a press conference was beginning. He couldn’t figure out what was so important. This show was known for these. It’d been at his press conferences as well. It was sort of the point of . . .

Franklin Monroe walked to a podium on-screen.

“That bastard,” he muttered.

“Ladies and gentleman, I know there has been a lot of speculation about the disappearance of Alyssa Cole. Elijah Cole has claimed that she is a ‘missing person.’ However, my client has been in contact with me for the past week and we are prepared, at this time, to come forward with a statement.”

“We have filed for a restraining order against Alyssa’s husband, Elijah Cole.” A gasp of surprise was raised by the reporters surrounding the podium as cameras clicked and flashes popped. Elijah saw Alyssa come into the frame with a man holding her hand. “While we will not discuss any details concerning this restraining order or what has prompted Ms. Cole to obtain it, we will say it was done because she feared for her safety and that of her unborn child. At this time, Ms. Cole has prepared a statement and will answer a few questions.”

Franklin stepped aside and let Alyssa move to the microphones. She looked beautiful, her cheeks pink from the cold as her breath puffed out like smoke in the crisp morning air. She tugged her pink cashmere cardigan closer, the turtleneck beneath making her neck look long and graceful. She was still every bit the beauty she’d always been. Her eyes shifted toward the man at her side. Elijah recognized him from the investigators’ pictures. This was who the slut was sleeping with—some redneck cowboy?

Elijah examined the man as he stood behind Alyssa’s shoulder, silent and still. He was tall and rugged, the way he’d expect a cowboy to look, and nothing like whom he’d expect Alyssa to be taken in by. He was the complete opposite of himself—scruffy beard, hard, chiseled features, overly tall and muscle-bound. The man probably had an IQ in the single digits. Of course, that might be the attraction. They’d probably looked for a man easily manipulated for Franklin’s sole purpose—to publicly defame Elijah.

The man’s hand settled intimately at Alyssa’s lower back, and Elijah felt rage rise from his gut into his throat, burning with fury. He barely listened as Alyssa told the media how she had found out about Elijah’s affairs and how, when confronted about them, he’d threatened her. She didn’t go into specifics, leaving it to the public’s imagination to fill in the details. A brilliant move on her part and, he was certain, due to Franklin’s coaching.

She continued, looking sorrowful and despondent, as she told the reporters how she feared for her safety, left with nothing but a few suitcases, and was involved in a car accident on her way to her parents’ house. She explained how the cowboy—Dr. Hart, a local veterinarian—rescued her and, together, they delivered a litter of puppies. He narrowed his eyes as one of the cameras actually zoomed in on a litter of puppies squirming around a black dog on the porch nearby. They were playing every sentimental card they could dredge up. The only thing missing now was the baby.

Son of a bitch!

Elijah’s jaw clenched tightly and the muscle in his temple twitched. His assistant glanced his way and took a step sideways, silently putting space between them.

“Ms. Cole,” a reporter yelled out, “is there some sort of relationship between you and Dr. Hart?”

“Dr. Hart has proven to be a hero, a generous and kind man who has allowed me to stay in his guest room when I had nowhere to turn since my ex-husband lied to you, and my family, in an effort to flush me out of hiding. We are . . . friends,” she finished.

Is she really trying to convince people they
aren’t
sleeping together?

Alyssa looked toward the cowboy, and Elijah could see the adoration in her eyes. She might be a great actress, but that look in her eyes wasn’t an act. He knew that look, the one she’d once reserved for him, the one she had in the photo on his desk.

No,
he realized,
she never even looked at me that way.

“Fucking bitch!” Elijah swung his arm, knocking the monitor from the desk and sending it crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering electronics was oddly satisfying, although he would have much rather put his fist into that cowboy’s face. How dare that man touch his wife?

“Get James on the phone and move my flight up. I want the next flight out.”

A
LYSSA LET
R
OCKY
curl against her chest as he dozed. She’d just finished feeding him when she heard the door of a truck slam. It had to be Justin returning from making his rounds. He’d practically bolted from the house as soon as the press conference was finished, reminding Franklin that he had work to do and clients to be seen. But she’d seen the truth in his eyes. He was avoiding her.

Justin had seen a small glimpse of the crazy circus that made up her life, and he’d reacted exactly the way she’d expected—he wanted no part of it. She didn’t blame him, but she couldn’t help the disappointment that swelled in her chest, making it ache with the loss at what she’d foolishly allowed her heart to hope for. She’d had no business pursuing any sort of relationship with him, not when there was still so much baggage in her life she had to sort through.

“Justin?” she called as she heard the front door shut.

His head appeared in the kitchen doorway, impatience coloring his blue eyes. Justin leaned a shoulder against the doorway but wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Yeah?” He wiped his palms down his jeans and she tried not to notice, recalling the way those muscular thighs had cradled her. “How’s he doing?”

Keep him talking about the puppies. It’s a safe subject. One where you won’t get hurt.

“
You wouldn’t know there was ever a question about how he’d do. Lucky treats him just like the rest now.”

“Good.” He gave her a sharp nod and turned away, intent on leaving as quickly as possible.

“Justin, I don’t really care what Franklin says. You don’t have to do this. If you want me to go, I will.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but forcing him to deal with another of her messes wasn’t fair to him. She’d made enough mistakes already. She didn’t want to drag him down with her.

She saw his jaw clench before his eyes met hers. She could read the frustration in them, even as desire smoldered in the depths. But he didn’t speak and she was the first to look away, glancing down at the sleeping puppy. She rose to put him back with the others as Lucky watched with eager eyes. She reached down and patted the dog on the head and was rewarded with a soft tongue lapping her hand and kind brown eyes.

How had she and Justin gotten to this point? Just a few days ago, they’d been strangers trying desperately to save a litter of puppies. Now there were so many layers of complexity to their relationship she wasn’t sure where to even begin to fix things. She wanted to believe they were friends, but there was far too much emotion between them for such simplicity. She could practically feel the electric connection between them, as if she only had to reach out and she could touch him.

“I don’t want you to go.”

His hands fell gently on her shoulders as she stood, but she felt the jolt of pleasure through every cell of her body. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but her body had, and had reacted. The warmth in his voice fell over her like a blanket, wrapping around her and making her want to lean into him. She felt him press his lips to the top of her hair and inhale deeply, his hands running down the length of her arms.

“But Lyssa, I don’t . . . this is . . . ” He blew the breath out, and she felt it fan over her head as he searched for the words to express what he was hiding inside. Finally he hung his head, letting his cheek rest against the back of her head. “We’re different. Maybe too different.”

She turned, letting her hands fall to his waist, her fingers gripping the pebbly material of the navy blue Henley he wore, and she looked up at his face. His eyes were tortured and he refused to meet hers. “We’re not as different as you might think.”

There was so much sorrow and regret in his face as he shook his head and laughed caustically, trying to move away from her.

She shouldn’t fight him. She should just let him go now. Alyssa’s heart beat painfully against her ribs, and she knew she couldn’t. “Justin, look at me.”

He hesitated and she reached a hand up to cup his jaw, turning his face so he had no choice but to look in her eyes, to see the honest plea in her gaze. She wanted them to go back to where they’d been before Franklin had arrived.

“I wasn’t looking for this. I was miserable in my marriage, but I didn’t realize how unhappy I was until I found out what Elijah was really like. Who knows what would have happened if I’d made it to my parents’ house. If it hadn’t been for Lucky, I would have never met you.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. You make me feel like myself again. No, you make me stronger, even more confident. You make me feel fearless.”

Justin’s eyes darkened until they were almost black. “Damn it, I can’t do this.”

His hands slid up the sides of her neck, sending a shiver of need over her flesh as he cupped her jaw and bent his head. His mouth found hers, hungry and needy. Her fingers curled into the material of his shirt, holding him to her even as she feared his eventual retreat. The heady scent of him, all warm male and musky, filled her senses and made her drunk with desire. She wanted to feel him pressed against her again, skin to skin, breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat. She tugged at his shirt, and he barely tore his mouth from hers long enough to reach behind him and yank the garment over his head.

Justin’s arms wrapped around her, but he moved with her from the kitchen into the living room, their lips still plucking at one another, leaving a trail of her clothing through the hallway. He pulled her into his lap on the leather couch as her hands roved over his body, feeling the muscles contract under her fingers, flexing where she touched. Heat pooled between her thighs as she craved his touch, his kiss, wanting to feel him buried within her again.

This maddening man didn’t just make her feel fearless. He made her feel as if she could soar. In his arms, she had reached heights she’d never known but she wouldn’t have been brave enough to try if it weren’t for the security she felt with him. With Justin, she was safe, protected and loved.

She halted her train of thoughts quickly. There had never been any mention of love between them, and she wasn’t idealistic enough to believe that forever lay ahead of them. There were too many obstacles for them to overcome, too much baggage for any one person to unload. She would never burden him with that expectation, but they had tonight. And, after the frigid apathy she’d faced with Elijah, Justin was her savior. He reminded her that passion was beautiful, desirable, and so empowering. She sighed as his lips moved over the side of her neck, sending feverish yearning throughout her, coiling like a spring in her belly. Justin’s hands found the curve of her breast, and she arched into him.

She reached for his belt buckle, but his hands fell over hers. “Wait, I can’t . . . not like this.”

J
USTIN
’
S BODY WANTED
to reject every word coming from his mouth, his arousal straining against the denim, wanting her touch. He held her hands in his, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. Worry creased her brow.

“We need to clear up a few things first, Lyssa, and I can’t talk when you’re touching me.”

Dear God, he couldn’t even remember his name when she was touching him, let alone hold a serious conversation. He could barely function when she was in the room, and right now she wasn’t wearing anything but her bra and panties. And it was pure torment.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me. You look at me with those green eyes, and I forget that there are three news vans parked outside my clinic trying to catch a glimpse of us together. I want to believe that this is real, but then Franklin comes around and reminds me to play my part, and I remember that the
reality
of this situation is that this is an act. I’m not an actor.”

He hadn’t missed how quickly she caved to Franklin’s suggestion that they play up their relationship for the media. He’d wanted them to put on a show, flaunt what was only beginning, and she’d agreed in order to serve a purpose. But it made him feel dirty, used, and cheap. What he felt for Lyssa wasn’t some means to an end, it wasn’t a pretense to be exploited. After the press conference, he’d been confused about her motives and had to get away, to try to put their relationship into perspective. The last thing he’d expected was for her to give him the choice whether she stayed or left.

It could have been Franklin’s suggestion.

He didn’t want to give credence to the doubts weighing on his mind. But he needed to know the truth, even if it ripped his heart from his chest, and it just might.

Her eyes misted and she pulled away, moving into the corner of the couch as if she were retreating from him. “You think I’m acting?”

Justin heard the hurt in her voice, the accusation, and wanted to take his words back. He stood up and began pacing the living room.

“After that press conference, I don’t know what to think anymore.” He ran a hand through his short hair and rubbed the back of his neck, guilt creeping over him for even saying it. He couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t face the heartache he could see there. “I believe you but . . . ”