Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
The sight of the floral delivery boy left Jacob briefly openmouthed with astonishment.
"You must have the wrong apartment." He started to close the door.
"No, wait—it says Stone, apartment number 1202," the young man said quickly. "This is 1202, isn't it? Isn't your name Stone?"
"Yeah, but I didn't order any flowers."
"These are for you," the boy insisted. "Here. Take them." He grinned suddenly. "You don't have to look so shocked. More and more women are sending flowers to men these days. I know it's kind of mushy, but that's how females are."
Jacob's brows came together in a hard line as he frowned down at the box of flowers. "They're from a woman?"
"Yup. That's what my boss said. There's a card attached. What's the matter? Don't you know any woman who might want to send you a couple dozen roses?"
A rush of exuberant pleasure went through Jacob. He reached out and snatched the box out of the boy's hands. "Let me have those. Thanks. Here, this is for you." He fished hurriedly through his wallet for a five-dollar bill.
"Geez, thanks, mister," the boy said, clearly stunned by the size of the tip.
"Forget it. I was in the delivery business once myself."
Jacob closed the apartment door, the box of roses cradled carefully in one arm and walked slowly into the kitchen. He had never received flowers in his life, and he tried to think of what to do first.
"Water," he muttered with sudden insight. "They have to go into water."
He put the box down on a counter and started opening cupboards. Belatedly he remembered he did not own a flower vase. After going through three cupboards, he realized he did not own anything that even resembled a vase. No jars, no pitchers, not even a small bucket. He looked around the kitchen, drumming his fingers impatiently on the sink.
Then he remembered the bottle of Scotch he had nearly drained the night he'd left Emily at the hotel.
Jacob snatched the bottle out of the closet and carelessly poured what remained of the expensive liquor into a large glass. Then he rinsed out the bottle and set it back down on the counter. Very carefully, handling the roses as if they were newborn kittens, he began inserting them into the empty Scotch bottle.
He managed to get three stems into the narrow neck of the bottle. Jacob added water and then began searching for other containers for the roses. There was a half-empty mayonnaise jar in the refrigerator, he discovered.
"Who needs mayonnaise?" he asked himself aloud. "The stuff isn't good for you, anyway." He dumped the mayonnaise down the garbage disposal and washed out the jar. After that he got increasingly creative.
Fifteen minutes later he dried his hands on a paper towel and examined his collection of floral designs. They certainly weren't up to Emily's standards, but he was rather pleased with the effect. Two dozen yellow roses adorned the kitchen, occupying the empty Scotch bottle, the mayonnaise jar, a plastic milk carton and a salad dressing bottle. The place looked like a garden to Jacob.
All his flower garden lacked was the sweet Ravenscroft witch who touched him with magic whenever she was nearby. He took the little card out of its envelope and reread it. The message was short and to the point: "I apologize. Emily." But Jacob felt an odd rush of emotion each time he read the note.
She wouldn't have sent the flowers and the note if she had not decided her affair with him was more important than her Ravenscroft pride. Tonight he would tell her that his own pride had been less important to him than his relationship with her. He was feeling magnanimous and incredibly relieved. He would tell her that he had been packing to go to her even before the flowers arrived.
Jacob took one last, satisfied look at his yellow roses and then went back to his packing. With a little luck he would be in Seattle in time to attend Emily's flower show this evening.
But luck was in short supply on the interstate outside Seattle. A four-car pileup brought everything to a standstill for nearly an hour. By the time the freeway cleared, Jacob knew there was no point in trying to get to the flower show. It was far too late. He decided to head straight for Emily's downtown apartment.
He used the garage access card she had given him to open the steel gates of the underground parking facility, glancing at his watch as he did so. She should be arriving home herself very soon. He wondered how she would react when she found him waiting for her. Then he scowled as he glanced around at the shadowed, empty garage. He definitely did not like the idea of Emily coming and going from this place on a regular basis. Women in the city had to exercise extra precautions.
As the gates closed behind him, Jacob guided his car into an empty slot, switched off the ignition and climbed out. He went around to the trunk to get his overnight bag.
Jacob had his bag in one hand and his other hand on the trunk lid when he realized he was not alone in the garage. He swung around, instinctively dropping into a slight crouch.
There were two of them. Young, male and vicious. They were wearing jeans, black jackets and dirty sport shoes. They came from between a pair of parked cars on the opposite side of the garage, moving fast. One of them carried a length of metal pipe and the other wielded a knife.
It could have been worse, Jacob had time to reflect. They might have had guns.
Then there wasn't any more time to think about it. There was only time to react and barely enough at that.
The one with the metal pipe reached him first, moving in low and bringing the pipe down in a short, violent arc. Jacob blocked the blow with his overnight bag and then crowded in behind it before the attacker could raise the pipe again. He used his foot to aim a crippling blow at the man's kneecap. His assailant yelled, dropped the pipe and clutched wildly at his injured knee.
"Get him, for Christ's sake!
Get him
!" the man screamed at his partner.
Jacob twisted as the other man launched himself forward, knife in hand. He dodged the first quick rush and managed to bring the heel of his palm down across the back of the assailant's neck. The man gasped and sprawled forward into the trunk. Jacob slammed the lid and held it down, pinning the knife-wielding arm in the metal jaws of the trunk until the knife fell to the concrete floor.
Jacob turned to check the status of the other punk and caught the full impact of a fist on the side of his jaw. The attacker followed it up with a body blow and a kick in the ribs.
Pain exploded, almost immediately swamped by cold fury. Jacob reeled back, releasing the trunk. When the younger man closed in on him, Jacob let him get very close before he made his move.
"You bastard," the punk hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson you won't ever forget. You hear me, jerk? I'm going to take you apart."
Jacob rolled sideways across the rear fender of the car and came up from a low, fierce crouch. He caught hold of the man's foot and yanked hard. As the attacker lost his balance, Jacob came down on top of him, aiming a slicing karate blow at the vulnerable point where the neck met the shoulder. The assailant crumpled and fell. The one in the trunk stirred and tried to rise.
Jacob gasped for air and glanced around for the knife. It had gotten kicked under the car. He didn't feel like crawling around on his hands and knees to get it, so he sprinted painfully across the concrete to grab the length of metal pipe that had been dropped earlier.
Just as his fist closed around it he heard the gate of the parking garage grate open. A pair of headlights speared the shadows. For an instant the tableau of violence was illuminated beneath the twin spotlights. Then the car pulled forward, effectively creating a barrier between Jacob and his assailants.
"Come on, Link, let's get out of here!" The man in the trunk staggered to his feet and grabbed his friend by the arm. "Move it, man, we got to get out of here!"
Jacob made a halfhearted effort to get around the newly arrived car, but he knew he wasn't going to make it. The two men, obviously strongly motivated in spite of their injuries, staggered to the still-open garage door and scrambled beneath it as it started to descend. By the time Jacob reached the wall switch that opened the door from the inside, the two had disappeared into the night.
Jacob swore, his body vibrating with the tension produced by the aftereffects of physical combat. He was vaguely aware of a warm, salty trickle down his chin and he absently wiped the blood off on his cuff. Then, realizing what he had just done, he glared in disgust at the ruined shirt. He had wanted to look his best this evening. He had wasted endless moments back in Portland choosing the right tie to go with this shirt and now both were a mess, thanks to those two punks.
"Dammit to hell," he muttered, swinging around to glower at the innocent driver of the car that had unwittingly provided getaway protection for the two jerks.
"What's going on here?" the man inside the car asked nervously as he eyed the blood and dirt on Jacob's clothing.
"Typical parking garage accident," Jacob explained.
E
mily drove into the parking garage feeling depressed in spite of the blue ribbon that was attached to the elegantly simple floral design sitting beside her. She knew exactly what was causing her depression, Some silly, optimistic part of her had actually expected Jacob to show up at the flower show.
She had been counting on it, she admitted to herself as she parked the car and got out. She had been pinning all her hopes on the expectation. She should have known better. A couple of dozen yellow roses and a note of apology had obviously not been enough to soothe his wounded ego.
Men, as she had just finished telling Diane over the victory drink her assistant had insisted on buying, were more trouble than they were worth.
She went around to the other side of the car and removed the flower arrangement that had brought her the ribbon that evening. Diane had been wrong, Emily told herself without much pleasure. The judges this year had been impressed by subtlety. She was glad she had followed her instincts and concentrated on a simple, graceful design of tiny orchids and curving vines. Using only minimal materials, she had made a final arrangement that had somehow evoked a quiet jungle pool. One judge had remarked that just looking at the design gave the viewer a feeling of elegant serenity.
Diane had been thrilled with the blue ribbon, Emily reminded herself as she walked to the elevators. Maybe tomorrow or the next day, she, too, would take some genuine pleasure in her accomplishment. Right now all she could think of was that Jacob had not forgiven her.
She rode up to her floor in an empty elevator and fumbled with her keys in the hall outside her door. She wondered what Jacob had done with the roses. Somehow, she had thought he would like them. In spite of his hardness there was a part of him that she knew responded to flowers. She had seen the way he handled them in the shop. He used the same tender touch that he used when he handled her. Perhaps she had only been fooling herself.
She opened the door and stepped into the apartment.
And stopped short, a tiny scream on her lips as she realized the living room light was on and the chair near the window was occupied.
"Don't panic," Jacob advised laconically as he got up. "It's not as bad as it looks."
"Jacob! What on earth are you doing here? What happened to you?" Emily set her flower arrangement down on a nearby table and stared at him. "You're bleeding."
"Still?" He frowned down at the damp cloth he held in one hand and then wiped his cut lip with it. "Damn. I thought that had stopped."
"There's blood all over your shirt. And your mouth. And you've got a bruise under your eye." Emily finally came unstuck from the floor and moved forward. "What happened to you?" She hurried toward him, alarm in her wide eyes and then she stopped directly in front of him, staring at his bruised face. "Did you have an accident?"
"You could say that." He smiled crookedly, wincing at the effort. His eyes gleamed. "No kiss for the wounded hero?"
"
Oh, Jacob
." She threw her arms around him.
"Ouch!"
Instantly she released him. "Your ribs, too?"
"I'm not as young as I used to be," he confessed. He touched her parted lips with the callused tip of his thumb and his gaze softened. "I got the flowers, sweetheart."
"My flowers weren't responsible for this."
"True. A couple of punks waiting downstairs in your garage were responsible for this. About the flowers, honey. I want you to know how much—"
"You were attacked?" Emily yelped. "In my garage?"
"I've been telling you since the first time I saw it that your garage was potentially dangerous. You know, when the kid brought the roses to my door I thought there had been a mistake. I assumed they must have been meant for someone else and I—"
"I've never had any problem in that garage and neither has anyone else in the building," she interrupted forcefully, scanning him for more evidence of wounds. "Oh, once or twice a prowler got in and swiped a couple of tape decks, but that's all. There's never been anything like this in the whole time I've lived here. Jacob, this is awful. Did you call the police?"
"Yes. Emily—"
"Maybe we should call the building manager. Or have you already done it?" She looked up at him with worried eyes. "I wonder what those two punks could have wanted?"
"It was probably just another straightforward robbery attempt that went awry. Happens all the time in the city. Maybe they were going to use the garage elevators to gain access to the apartments upstairs," Jacob explained impatiently. "Listen, Emily, I want to tell you how much I—"
"How long ago did it happen? Have you seen a doctor?"
He groaned and abruptly reached out to fold his arms around her. He wrapped her close to him, heedless of his own soreness. One hand twisted gently in her hair so that he could bury her face against his hard chest.
The tactic effectively silenced her. When she was no longer in a position to hurl questions at him, Jacob bent his head and murmured into her hair, "Hush, Emily. Everything's under control. The police and the building manager left twenty minutes ago. No one's holding his breath hoping for an immediate arrest. This sort of thing happens all the time."
"Jacob…" Her voice was muffled against his shirt. Emily tried to pull free and discovered she was trapped. Jacob's arms around her were warm and tender but they were also as immovable as iron.
"Believe it or not, I've got more important things to talk about right now."
"Such as?"
His big hand moved in her hair and his other slid down her spine to the curve of her hip. He urged her lower body into the hard cradle of his thighs. "Such as two dozen yellow roses and a very short note of apology."
She managed to get her head up so that she could meet his eyes. "What's the matter?" she demanded waspishly. "Was the note too short?"
His gaze was fierce and warm. "No, the note was not too short. Emily, no one's ever sent me flowers before, let alone two dozen yellow roses."
She smiled tremulously. "You've probably never dated a florist before."
"I can't argue that. But that's not the point."
"What is the point, Jacob?"
He shook his head and framed her questioning face between his strong hands. "The point is, I should have been the one to send you the flowers and the note of apology."
Emily stared up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I was wrong to demand the apology from you in the first place. I
shouldn't have jumped all over you for that scene in your father's study. You
weren't using me to get back at your family. It's not in you to use someone else
to get your revenge. I should have realized you were being honest when you told
me you had threatened everyone with those damned shares just to protect me.
You've always been honest with me, Emily."
Emily sighed with relief. She leaned her head back down on his shoulder. Her arms stole carefully around his waist. "When did you come to that conclusion?"
"About you being so honest?"
"No, about my having tried blackmail to protect you."
"Very early this morning," he admitted. "Amazing what two sleepless nights will do for a man's thinking ability. It finally dawned on me that you've got enough Ravenscroft blood in you to fight for something you want. You proved that when you went ahead and got the loan for your florist shop. But you're not enough of a Ravenscroft to use me or anyone else to plot revenge against your whole family. Not just for the sake of getting even with them for their meddling over the years. You really did think you were protecting me, didn't you?"
She nodded slowly. "I was so afraid they would find a means to drive you away from me. They don't like the idea of us having an affair."
Jacob appeared unconcerned by that. He smiled faintly and curled his hand around the nape of her neck. "The flowers arrived when I was in the middle of packing to drive up here so I could tell you I was sorry I had overreacted."
Emily's eyes widened. "You were going to do the apologizing?"
"Uh-huh." He bent his head to kiss her lightly on the brow. "But you beat me to it."
"Oh, Jacob, that's so sweet." Emily was enchanted. "You were actually going to apologize to me? I can't believe it." Without thinking, she hugged him tightly. Jacob sucked air painfully, and she instantly released him. "Oh, dear, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you sure you're all right? Maybe we'd better get you to an emergency room."
"I'll live," he assured her. "I don't need a doctor."
"What happened to those two thugs who attacked you?" she demanded with a frown.
"They took off when another car drove into the garage. I gave the cops the descriptions, but, like I said, I'm not holding my breath." He scowled down at her. "I'd like to know why the idea of my apologizing is such a strange one for you to swallow."
She flushed and stepped back with a small, shaky laugh. "Ravenscrofts in general aren't big on apologies. They always figure they're in the right in the first place."
Jacob's eyes gleamed thoughtfully. "I'm not a Ravenscroft, remember?"
"I know, but you always seemed to be on the same side as the rest of my family," she reminded him bluntly. "You were always aligned with Dad and Drake and the rest of them. You were so much like them in so many ways. I guess I lumped you in with the others, and it always seemed to be me against the rest of you. And you were never big on apologizing, either, Jacob. Admit it. I put up with a lot from all of you over the years, and nobody ever said he was sorry. You weren't any better about it than the others. You all took the attitude that I was the one who should do the apologizing."
Jacob grinned wryly. "That's because we all thought you should appreciate the fact that we were only acting in your best interests."
"Hah."
"I guess it must have been hard at times, hmm? All those people, me included, trying to tell you how to live your life?" Jacob reached out and pulled her back into his arms.
"Very hard." She touched him gently, conscious of his bruises, and inhaled the exciting, male scent of his body.
"Emily," he said in a new and more urgent tone, "I'll admit that your family and I are probably guilty of overprotecting you on occasion, but the truth is there were plenty of times when you needed that protection. Look at how far Morrell got with you before you found out he was just using you."
"I wish everyone would stop throwing Damon in my face." Emily tugged free of Jacob's grasp. "I was only dating the man. We weren't having an affair and we certainly were not planning marriage, as my parents feared. He did not get very far with me at all."
"Maybe you weren't planning either an affair or marriage, but Morrell was."
"For Pete's sake, that doesn't mean I would have meekly gone along with him," Emily snapped. Her mood was beginning to shift from blissful relief at finding Jacob in her apartment to a familiar sense of defensiveness. "I decided two years ago I would never marry."
Jacob's eyes were suddenly alive with an unidentifiable emotion. "You did?" he asked softly.
Emily tried to treat the whole thing casually. "I took your advice. I came to the conclusion you were right. Marriage was an institution for fools. I believe those were your exact words. And in my case, I had the additional worry of trying to find a man who wouldn't want control of RI. All in all, I decided the sensible thing to do was never to marry. So you see, there was never any real danger of Damon talking me into marrying him. Can't anyone give me a little credit for being able to take care of myself?"
"Honey, I'm sorry. Again. The last thing I want to do tonight is lecture you or chew you out or annoy you." He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Then he bent his head and nuzzled the warm, sweetly scented place behind her left ear. "Let's forget Morrell and your family and those two punks in the garage. We've got better things to do."
Emily sighed and let herself sink back into his warmth. "It's very hard for me to stay annoyed with you, Jacob."
"Good." He kissed the curve of her shoulder with satisfaction. "What was that you were carrying when you came through the door a few minutes ago?"
"My floral design. I won, Jacob. I won first place in the professional show category." For the first time that evening, she could enjoy the victory.
He turned her around in his arms, grinning down at her. "Congratulations. I can't say I'm surprised." He walked over to where the winning arrangement sat on a table. Jacob studied it for a long moment, moving around it to see it from all angles.
Emily realized she was holding her breath. When he turned back to her he was smiling with an odd satisfaction.
"It's perfect," he said, coming back toward her. "Exotic and tempting and a little mystifying. Just like you." His fingers went to the buttons of her blouse. "We have a lot to celebrate tonight. And I can't think of any better way to do it than to take you to bed. I was a fool to leave you alone at that hotel in Portland. But at least I learn from my mistakes." His eyes were cloudy with desire.
"What about your bruises?" Emily asked anxiously. She was vividly aware of the exciting roughness of his fingertips as he undid the buttons of her blouse. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."
"Just be gentle with me, okay?" he said with a rare, wicked grin.
She responded to his teasing with impulsive delight. Something about Jacob always seemed to release the sensual, daring side of her nature. No other man had ever had that effect on her. Emily reached up and put her arms around his neck, urging his head down to hers.
"All you'll have to do is lie back and enjoy it," she promised in a reckless, throaty whisper.
"Is that right?"
"Trust me." She brushed her mouth lightly against his, careful not to hurt his cut lip. He groaned and his fingers fumbled slightly as he finished undoing her buttons. All of a sudden Emily was brimming with excitement and the thrill of feminine power.
Deliberately she loosened his tie, letting the two ends dangle around his neck while she went to work on his shirt. She paused briefly when she saw the bloodstain on the cuff, but when she looked up at Jacob she knew he did not want to waste any time explaining it. His eyes were glittering now with a familiar hunger. She dropped the shirt on the floor, leaving the striped tie still dangling down his broad chest.