Last Bridge Home (16 page)

“And what would your wonderful council say to your generous gesture?”

“I don’t give a damn what they say. This is between you and me.” He paused. “And An drew. We have to consider what’s best for An drew, Beth.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” She turned away with a jerky movement. “You’re right, we’ll talk about it later. Serena said we should help ourselves to a picnic lunch. I’d better get busy packing it, hadn’t I?”

“Beth.” Jon’s voice was soft with tenderness.

“
No
, I don’t want to talk about it.” Her hands were shaking as she opened the refrigerator door. “Not now.”

His hands clenched slowly at his sides in helpless frustration as he watched her pull out the plastic cold cuts container. They had be come too close the night before for him not to be able to read signs of sorrow and rejection in her expression. She was already considering the problem, and perhaps she had grasped tendrils of his solution on a subconscious level. It was difficult to keep up a barrier during a joining. He wanted to take her in his arms and help her, soothe away all the pain she would ever know, but he knew she wouldn’t accept comfort now. He could only stand and wait until she was ready to come to him. He stepped forward and took the container. “Here, let me help you.” Let me shoulder all your burdens, protect you from harm, smooth every rock-strewn path. “Did Serena tell you where she keeps the bread?”

“S
ORRY ABOUT THE MOTEL.
I
KNOW IT’S NOT
the Ritz, but I thought it was better for us to stay away from any of the large, well-known hotels in downtown Rochester.” Jon leaned against the door that connected their adjoining rooms. “We have to keep a low profile until Gunner contacts us tomorrow morning.”

“The motel’s fine.” Elizabeth went to the window and drew the beige print drapes, blocking out the early evening darkness. “Hotels are all pretty much the same, and at least this place is spotlessly clean. Do you suppose we can order from room service?”

“I doubt it. Why don’t you shower and rest for a while, and I’ll see what I can arrange as far as carry-out food goes? I saw a pizza parlor
and a Mexican restaurant a few blocks from here. Do you have any preference?”

“Mexican.”

He nodded as he turned away. “Mexican it is. Fasten the chain lock behind me. I’ll knock when I come back.”

“Are all these precautions necessary? I don’t think we were followed. I didn’t see any one on the road.”

“I didn’t either.” A thoughtful frown knotted his brow. “If they were good at their job, we wouldn’t have seen them. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

She nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “Do you really think Gunner got away? I was so relieved when Bardot first told me about his men disappearing, I just jumped to that conclusion. What if something happened to their mobile phone, and they didn’t really disappear? What if they were following Gunner and overtook him later?”

He glanced over his shoulder with an amused smile. “You’re full of what-ifs tonight. I said I wanted you to think, not worry. Will it make you feel better if I swear there was no way those men could stop Gunner?”

“Not unless you tell me how you can be so sure.”

“There are times when I could do without your Yankee show-me mentality.” He held up
his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll tell you why I’m so sure later. During dinner. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She watched the door close behind him and then obediently crossed the room to fasten the chain lock. She switched on the light, picked up the suitcase Serena had packed for her, and put it on the bed. Though not very large, it was heavy. When she had unlatched and opened it, she understood why. Not only did it contain several pairs of jeans and several sweaters, but Serena had packed underthings and even a portable hair dryer and a plastic bag of toiletries. However, it wasn’t the practicality of Serena’s choices that attracted Elizabeth’s attention, but the one garment that was wildly impractical and completely fabulous. The rich peach-colored satin of a negligee and matching robe glowed jewellike against the sturdy fabric of a pair of denim jeans. Elizabeth’s hand reached out to stroke the satin fabric and discovered that there was a note pinned to it.

Elizabeth lilted the robe from the suitcase and held it up. It was a magnificently romantic garment, and the color would look good on her. Jon had never seen her in anything so seductive.

Seductive. Elizabeth felt color rise in her cheeks. The word had come so naturally to her mind. Seduction. Was that what she intended tonight? Her hands tightened on the peach-colored fabric. She would never be beautiful, but in this sensual garment she would come close. It would surround any woman in an aura of glamour. Why was she hesitating? Only that same morning she had bewailed the fact that she always appeared in such unflattering attire before Jon, and now she had been given the perfect remedy.

Elizabeth grinned as she draped the gown over her arm and picked up the hair dryer and the bag of toiletries. She turned and walked briskly toward the bathroom. Oh, yes, by all means, she definitely planned on seduction.

She looked as vibrantly feminine as one of Gunner’s Sybras.

Jon felt his breath catch in his throat, and he had to tighten his grip on the boxes of food he held to keep them from falling to the floor. “Beautiful.”
She
was beautiful. Her brown hair hung straight and shining past her shoulders, and her skin was as ripe and silky as a peach, reflecting the glowing shade of the satin which flowed around her in a sensuous cloud. The robe was loose and fluid, the sleeves enormously wide and graceful. The gown beneath it was also loose, with a low square neck that revealed the lush slopes of her upper breasts. “Serena’s design?”

Elizabeth nodded as she took the boxes from him and stood back to allow him to enter. “Her medieval season. She said every woman needs a little glamour in her life. Do you like it?”

“Yes.” He had trouble forcing out words from his dry throat. “Sybra.”

She gazed at him in bewilderment. “What?”

“In Gunner’s province in Garvania there was a social order of women who were dedicated only to the sensual pleasures. Every thought and action was aimed at increasing their desirability and sexual performance. They were called Sybras.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It sounds like a very boring life.”

His lips twitched. “They didn’t seem to find
it boring, and I guarantee their partners never complained of ennui.”

“Did you ever—” She broke off. She didn’t want to know. She was feeling shy and insecure enough without knowing she would be competing with a bevy of sexual experts. She turned away and moved to stand by the round teak table near the window. “You were gone a long time. I was beginning to get worried.”

“I had a few phone calls to make, and some thing was bothering me so I decided to check on it.” He closed the door and locked it. “And I stopped to buy a bottle of wine. It’s not a terrific year, but I thought you might appreciate a little touch of class with our take-out specials. Heaven knows neither our surroundings nor our dinner has any great degree of 61an.” He was scarcely aware of what he was saying. The silk moved and flowed against her body with her every movement. Her bare, shapely feet were visible from beneath the hem of her robe and, for some odd reason, their nudity was almost as arousing as the sight of her breasts jutting from the neckline of the gown.

His gaze followed her across the room. He took the bottle of wine and two wine glasses from the paper bag he still carried. “The man at the liquor store assured me this was Napa Valley’s finest.”

She looked up after setting the paper plates of rice, beans, and burritos on the table. “Who did you call?”

“Gunner, for one.” He smiled as he met her surprised gaze. “I contacted him through our local man. I thought you’d feel better if I could tell you I’d spoken to him directly. Andrew’s fine. He’s eating well, sleeping well, and ac cording to Gunner, he’s enjoying Einstein enormously.”

“Thank goodness.” Elizabeth collapsed into a chair. She hadn’t realized how frightened she’d been until now. “Where are they?”

“At a small hotel near Rochester. They’ll be joining us tomorrow at noon.”

“Wonderful.” Her smile was so radiant, it made him catch his breath.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and forced him self to look away. He shrugged out of Dane’s suede car coat and threw it on the bed, then seated himself opposite her at the table. His hands were trembling as he opened the wine, and he could feel her gaze on his face. “I told you they were all right.”

“But how did Gunner get away from them? What happened to Bardot’s men?”

“Bardot’s men are on their way to San Diego.”

Elizabeth gazed at him in bewilderment.
“San Diego? What on earth are you talking about? Why would they go to San Diego?”

Jon didn’t look at her as he poured the bubbling white wine into their glasses. “Because Gunner told them that Bardot had ordered them to go there. He also told them a top-security blackout was in effect, and they were not to use their mobile phone or try to contact anyone until they reached San Diego.” He put the bottle down on the table. “According to Gunner, they should be driving through Colorado right now.”

“Gunner told them. Why would they believe …” She stopped. “Hypnosis?”

He nodded. “Combined with telepathic command.”

“Mind control. It’s incredible,” she whispered. “You can actually make them do things against their will? Can you make anyone do what you want them to?”

“Almost anyone. Gunner has an eighty-five percent success rate in mind control, and mine is a little higher.” He met her gaze un flinchingly. “But it’s only done in the most extreme cases. To use our abilities to subvert another person’s will or trespass on their privacy breaks the raznal. In our group that’s a crime punishable by death, and there are only a few men who have the right to issue the or der to ignore the raznal.”

“And you’re one of them,” she murmured dazedly. “Gunner said I couldn’t imagine the power you wielded.” She shivered. “I don’t know if I like the idea of someone being able to make me do something I don’t want to do. Not even you.”

“I was afraid you’d feel like that.” Jon’s hand tightened on his glass. “I can’t deny the power is there, but it will never be used without your permission. I don’t know how to impress upon you the seriousness of breaking the raznal.” He looked down at the wine in his glass. “Look, when we first discovered the power of our abilities it was like we owned a wonderful toy. We experimented and played with it and thought we had discovered all the answers. Just think of the potential, Beth. In medicine and psychiatry alone we could make miraculous steps. Then we discovered there was an ugly side to the power that we’d never dreamed about. Without controls, it could come close to destroying our humanity. Now we have controls, we have the raznal but we’ll never let ourselves forget the time when we didn’t. That’s why we need to find a place where it’s possible to study and develop greater constraints.” He lifted his gaze to meet her own. “Why do you think I haven’t removed Bardot from the scene? It would be a simple thing to do, but I’d have to
break the raznal. I can’t do that without trying every other possible means first.”

“Yet you gave Gunner permission to break it.”

“To protect Andrew. Not only because he was your child, but because he’s our hope for tomorrow.” He leaned forward, his voice vibrant with urgency. “The Clanad is very lonely, Beth. We don’t want to be alone, but we are. It’s going to be a long time before we can come forward and try to find our place in the world. There’s bound to be distrust and doubt at first, before we effect a unity, and we’re going to need to bridge that sea of distrust. Remember how you referred to the old covered bridge you love so much? You said it was the last bridge home. Well, that’s what An drew will be, Beth. He’s the bridge between the past and the future, between what we are and what we can be, between the lonely road and home.”

Elizabeth’s lips were trembling as she tried to smile. “For Pete’s sake, Andrew is only three weeks old. He’s not a bridge to anywhere yet. And I’m not sure I don’t hope you’re wrong about his potential. I’d rather enjoy having a normal, happy-go-lucky son.”

“Maybe we are wrong,” he said gently. “At any rate, we’ll try to keep him safe as long as
possible. There’s no reason he can’t have a happy childhood.”

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip of wine. “You’re damn right he will. I’ll make very sure he does.”

He smiled. She had responded better than he thought she would. He lifted his own glass in a toast.
“We’ll
make sure he does.”

She nodded, picked up her plastic fork and took a bite of her burrito. “I accept the correction. You’re a very handy man to have around in a tight situation, Jon Sandell.”