December Heat (2 page)

Nicolette
nodded. “I’m well acquainted with the kind of circumstances. Those where you get whisked off to the other side of the world, to any hot spot, with only a whisker of notice. When are you going to give it up, Jake? You must be sick of that lifestyle by now.”

That
sounded more like the Nicolette whose path had crossed with his in the past.

Jake
swore under his breath. It was going to be harder than ever not to let this woman get under his skin. One way or another, he was a doomed man.

“Never!”
he taunted. “You know me, fun-loving and adventurous, the sort who thrives on a good time and gets his thrills from running the gauntlet with danger and death.”

She
nodded ruefully. “I know it all right. The number of times you and Mark got into scrapes. Or more to the point, scrapes you got into and Mark had to get you out of.”

“Ah,
yes, we were always there for each other, always will be.”

A
curious shadow flitted across Nicolette’s lovely eyes.

“He
sent me this.” Jake fished the letter from his pocket. He’d kept it handy as Mark had written directions on how to get to the house. He handed it to her.

She
studied the aerogramme, fingering the postmark. She paled. “I didn’t know he’d written this,” she said, in a hushed whisper, handing it back to him. “He said he had trouble locating where you’d gone.”

“In
the letter he mentioned he’d only got hold of the address that day. He must have been in a hurry to post it.”

Nicolette
nodded. “Fate had a hand in that,” she whispered.

“No
doubt,” Jake acknowledged, not quite sure exactly what she meant, instead itching to satisfy his burning curiosity on another matter.

“He
yours?” Jake nodded toward the sleeping infant. Motherhood suited her. From the little he knew of her, he’d surmised that was the kind of woman she was, someone who’d dedicate her life to her husband and family. But she was still the damn sexiest woman he’d ever met and the fact she had a baby seemed somehow to enhance her subtle sensuality.

God,
he’d been in this sun too long. What was he thinking?

“She.
No, she’s not mine. I’m minding her for a neighbor.”

“Oh.”
Why did he sound so disappointed? He wasn’t one of those men who believed women should be barefoot and pregnant every damn day of their lives. Women were made to caress and cuddle, to enjoy, for both their brains and their beauty, in and out of the bedroom. To live their lives in any way that fulfilled them as a woman and a person. After all, men were the ones to reap the benefits even then. And he reminded himself again that, as his best friend’s wife, Nicolette was out of bounds.

The
silence between them seemed to expand and grow taut. Jake felt sure he’d hear it snap at any moment.

The
baby stirred, its little pink fist stabbing at the air, drawing Jake’s gaze. Again a tiny hand came to rest against her breast, and Jake found himself wondering if her skin was the same light tan beneath the pink triangles.

“What
are you doing here, Jake?” Nicolette’s voice washed over him.

“I’ve come
to take Mark up on his offer to spend a few days.” He patted his shirt pocket where he’d returned the letter for safekeeping. “It’s been quite a while and we have some catching up to do. I have a few days up my sleeve, so...here I am.” It was more than a few, but he hoped desperately that they’d invite him to stay as long as he needed.

Nicolette
studied him for a moment. He’d always liked her hazel eyes. At this moment, they were tawny-colored, warm and inviting. Her long lashes fluttered. He could understand very well Mark’s attraction to her.

No
wonder he’d been anxious to stake his claim on her, marrying her within a few months after they’d met.

“I
think you’d better come in, Jake.” She stood back to let him pass.

Jake
entered and followed her through the cool screened verandah, and into the open and airy living room. The huge glass panels and double sliding doors, which formed the best part of two walls, seemed to allow the outside to filter into the house. Huge gum trees shaded the room from the heat of the summer sun.

“Very
nice,” he said as he drank in the surroundings. The floors were polished a light gold color, with bright scatter rugs providing a softness and warmth to break up the effect of the wood. The furnishings were casual, mostly cane and a lightly polished pine, and the deeply padded lounge chairs appeared quite comfortable. He noticed how quiet it was, until the loud, musical chirp of the cicadas shattered the silence.

“Have
a seat.” She indicated a chair. “I’ll just put this little thing to bed. Won’t be long. She usually goes down no trouble at all.”

He
realized now that the scent, which assailed him as soon as Nicolette had opened the door, was the soft sweet smell of baby, and woman.

“Take
your time.”

Jake
sank back in the comfortable chair. A man could get used to this, he reflected and wondered if the lifestyle would really suit him once the novelty of not being shot at, and sometimes hit, wore off. He watched Nicolette as she walked away. Barefoot, shapely bare legs, and a nicely rounded bottom he wouldn’t mind curving his palm to fit.

Where
the hell was Mark anyway?

When
Nicolette returned, minus baby, she’d dressed in denim cut offs and a white singlet top, short enough to expose a tantalizing strip of tanned midriff. He could still see the fluoro pink mounds through the white stretch fabric. She looked even more appealing covered up.

She
dragged her hands through her short straight hair, her movements emphasizing the suppleness of her lithe body. He watched as the loose strands of hair fell back into place.

“Where’s
Mark?” He broke the silence before it became too tense, but he wondered if it was simply his own intensity which filled the air between them.

Nicolette
looked troubled. Her lower lip quivered and she sank her teeth into the soft flesh to keep it under control.

“Oh
Jake, you don’t know, do you?” Trembling fingers covered her mouth.

Chapter Two

A
sense of foreboding coursed through Jake, and filled him with fear. He felt sick to his stomach.

He
braced himself, scarcely game to breathe. “Know what?” His voice came in a hoarse, hushed whisper, his gaze remaining focused on her, on the hazel eyes that flickered with emotion.

She
swallowed. “Mark...Mark died almost six months ago. The same day as the postmark on that letter.” A tiny tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trickled slowly down her cheek. She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips.

Aware
of the sob in her throat and the waver in her voice, Jake’s heart all but stopped. His hands gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. The breath he’d held for too long forced its way out through the thickening in his throat.

Shoulders slumped,
he leaned back in the comfortably padded chair and closed his eyes, aware of the dampness lurking there. He felt pain as a little piece inside him shriveled and died. He couldn’t believe it. He felt as if he’d been knifed in the gut, the blade twisting and turning.

“No,”
he said. “You’re putting me on.”

“Jake.”
He sensed her move closer and opened his eyes to watch her crouch in front of him, her hand resting on his knee. Concern filled her gaze. He lowered his lids again, and let her gentle voice wash over him.

“I’m
sorry you had to find out this way. I had no idea where you had got to. I didn’t know Mark had found your address. If I could have tracked you down, I would have let you know. I’m sorry, Jake.”

She
spoke softly, her voice comforting, though the words themselves provided little to ease the sadness in his heart. He sensed her rise to her feet and move away.

He
opened his eyes, his gaze sought hers, and he wished fervently she was spinning him a yarn. The tortured expression on her face told him this wasn’t one of Mark’s crazy tricks.

He
pulled in a deep shuddering breath, dragged himself from the chair and moved toward her. She looked drained, as if the recounting of such sad news took everything she had. His heart went out to her.

“How?”
His voice was barely a harsh whisper. That lump was still lodged in his throat.

Nicolette
looked away. Her mouth quivered. She took a breath and ran her fingers through her hair. She repeated the action before turning her gaze back to him. “It was...it was...a car accident.”

Filled
with a sense of injustice, Jake groaned. There was neither rhyme nor reason why Mark should be dead. It wasn’t fair. A man in his prime, with a beautiful wife and everything to live for. Life was like that, he knew, having witnessed a gutful of inequities in his line of work. He just never thought such unfairness would hit so close to home.

“You
mean to say, that after all we’d been through together, barely escaping being blown up and shot at, that he had to come home to be killed in a bloody car accident?” Jake’s distress caused his voice to raise a level. “He wouldn’t have quit his job and come home if it hadn’t been for you! He’d still be alive if he was left to do the job he did best.” The thought made him crazy.

Nicolette
flinched at his barb, but rallied quickly. “Don’t you think I know that? I knew what your reaction would be. You always believed I persuaded Mark to give up his line of work. You didn’t want Mark to marry me in the first place!”

The
truth of her comment, and her anger, fueled his grief. He felt sick at heart. He couldn’t help it. The past came rushing back—fleeting images of his and Mark’s brushes with death. The first meeting with Nicolette. The strain on their friendship, once Mark declared his intention to end their working partnership, and settle down after his marriage to Nicolette.

Jake
cursed silently. He tried to talk Mark out of it, saying he was making a foolish mistake. Their lives had run smoothly until she’d arrived on the scene. And since then, it seemed everything they’d worked so hard to achieve had come apart.

Now
, Mark was dead.

“All
good things come to an end, Jake,” Mark once said, by way of consolation. And now, he was dead, and his words were poor consolation indeed.

And
Jake hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye.

He
grasped Nicolette’s arms. He didn’t realize just how firm his grip was until she glanced to where his fingers wrapped tightly around her skin. Her gaze returned to meet his, a clear warning in her darkened hazel eyes.

He
let her go, though his voice remained charged with accusation. “You took him away from the life he loved, the only thing he wanted to do.”

She
held his gaze, her own defiance evident in the tilt of her chin. Her fine delicate hands rested on her hips. She looked fit to kill.

“That’s
what you truly believe, isn’t it? That I came between you two?” Her hands lowered to her sides.

He
glared at her, daring her to refute his challenge.

“Whatever
you might think, it was Mark’s decision to end the partnership. I didn’t want to influence him one way or the other. I just wanted him to be happy.” Her voice faltered. “I was prepared to walk away, but Mark didn’t want that.”

Her
voice lowered. “He wanted me.”

Jake
considered her briefly. “Maybe so. But you and he aren’t…weren’t right for each other.” He couldn’t let it go. There was so much unspoken between them. Things that had been left to fester since that first night. That kiss.

“Oh?
And how’s that? How do you know what was right for Mark, what he needed, or wanted?”

The
strain increased the tautness in Jake’s chest. The distress on Nicolette’s elfin features didn’t help. Hers was a face that shouldn’t suffer such angst. And in spite of her bravado in standing up to him, he couldn’t get past the fact her vulnerability showed, that she was a woman alone, without her mate, here in this isolated wilderness. His mind flicked briefly to the stack of empty wine bottles he’d seen outside and he wondered whether she’d sought solace in the bottle. The thought troubled him.

“I
don’t want to get into this any further,” Jake said, knowing if he told her all of what was on his mind, it would most certainly destroy the tenuous link between them, and he didn’t think he could live with that. “Just leave it, Nicolette.”

“No,
I won’t. You started this Jake, now let’s put the past to rest, shall we?”

Fired
up, he stalked around her. “I knew that night you kissed me, you weren’t Mark’s type.”

She
drew in a quick breath. “I kissed you? Ha! My recollection is that it was the other way around.”

Jake
smirked. “Not the way you responded,” he quipped. “It was good too. Like sweet, warm honey.”

Again
her eyes sparked. She stepped closer and stabbed a slender finger at his chest. “You rotten hound,” she accused recklessly, her anger barely controlled. If looks could kill, he’d be dead in a heartbeat. “It was you who did the prowling, maneuvered me into a quiet corner so I couldn’t escape. What kind of a man kisses his best friend’s fiancée like that?”

“And
what kind of woman responds to her fiancé’s best mate the way you did?”

Fire
sparked in her hazel eyes, now tinged with speckles of yellow-gold. He’d never thought she’d be capable of getting as angry as she had in the last few minutes. She’d always seemed too reserved, but now he realized there was a more passionate side to Nicolette she kept carefully hidden away.

“Anyway,
I didn’t know you were Mark’s fiancée.”

“Would
it have made a difference?”

“What
do you take me for, woman, some sort of Casanova? Of course it would have made a difference. No way would I impinge on a good mate’s property.”

“Property!”
Her eyes flashed sparks at him.

“All
right, partner then. I just used the wrong word, okay? A slip of the tongue. No big deal.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply.

“You
were a bad influence on Mark,” she argued. “From the stories he told me, it was you who always got into awkward situations, took chances, leaving him no option but to get you out. I would have left you there to rot.”

“I
bet you would have.” He stepped closer to her and lowered his head until their noses almost touched. He caught a whiff of that sweet perfume laced with the fragrance of baby. His breath caught at the tightening in his body. He was too close, within kissing distance. Tempting. He could almost taste that long ago kiss. He wondered if she still tasted the same. No, don’t go there. He raised his head.

“Maybe
Mark wasn’t as innocent as you make him out to be,” he shot back, his voice husky and menacing to his own ears. “Did you ever think he might have told you only what he wanted you to know, that you got edited versions?”

She
shook her head as if lost for words.

“There’s
probably a lot you don’t know about Mark, about our work, about me. Don’t you think it’s a little unfair to judge me when you barely know me?”

“I
know all I need to know,” she said.

Jake
pulled back a little. “Are you sure about that? What would you say if I misjudged you?” Guilt swamped him. Now he’d given her ammunition. Serve him right if she used it.

She
shrugged. “You already have, when you don’t know anything about me.”

“Exactly.
I don’t really know you, but I can form an opinion of you just the same. You wouldn’t like it if you knew what I thought about you.”

“Try
me,” she said.

Jake
bit back the response to her innocent invitation. He knew what she meant, and she seemed not to be aware her words held a hidden meaning.

“I’ve
always thought of you as a stuck-up little snob,” he said, rather cruelly he realized, once the words were out. “Too classy for Mark. You’re bossy, demanding, expect everything your own way. Staid, and stubborn too, to a fault. There, how am I doing?” Jake held his breath. She looked like she might deck him, and he wouldn’t put it past her to try, at least once. She’d done it before, after all.

He
knew he’d said too much, but couldn’t seem to stop himself once he was wound up. Grief did funny things to a man.

“You’re
way off target, Jake. You’ll never know what makes me tick.”

Maybe
not, but he’d sure as hell like to find out. She’d skin him alive if she knew his thoughts.

“Mark
was too good for the likes of you,” she tossed at him. “At least he was a gentleman.”

Jake
choked back his response along with his urge to shake her. He could have told her stories about Mark that would have made her hair curl. He refrained, not wanting to taint her precious memories of her late husband, Jake kept his own counsel. There were some things he’d never tell.

Tense
quiet filled the room.

A
distressed cry broke the silence.

“There.
Now see what you’ve done.” Visibly upset, Nicolette rushed from the room.

He
wanted to say he was sorry. Sorry for what? Mark’s death? His outburst? Waking the baby?

Filled
with misery and regret that it was too late to call back the harsh words, Jake walked out onto the balcony.

How
had things got so out of hand?

A
few minutes later, Nicolette returned. He’d half expected her to have the baby with her.

She
folded her arms and glared at him.

“Is
she all right?”

“Yes,
no thanks to you. She went back to sleep.”

As
their gazes held, her expression softened. Her lower lip quivered slightly. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Jake. It must have come as quite a shock.”

“That’s
an understatement.” He took a breath, tilting his head back slightly. His heart cried out for the lost chance to say good-bye. Images of some of the near misses they’d shared flashed through his mind like moving pictures. Of times when Mark had saved Jake’s life at the risk of his own.

Taking
another breath to help regain his composure, Jake lowered his head to look at her.

Guilt
haunted him. He knew it would always be there. She didn’t need to know that the last time he and Mark had seen each other, they’d argued...over her. Though they’d parted on good terms, Jake couldn’t quite forgive himself for being so stubborn. It had been obvious at the time that Mark was happy with the choice he’d made.