Authors: Lynde Lakes
“It’s chicken to send a
kiss-off
note,” he shouted. “Tell me to my face that it’s over.”
She closed her eyes and hugged herself in an attempt to stop quivering. The thought of never being in his arms again was unbearable. Her heart had opened for him—she would never love this way again. He was the man she’d dreamed to have some day.
Suddenly from the master bedroom at the back of the house, she heard the shatter of glass.
Chapter Forty-Four
Stubborn woman! Dane reached through the smashed pane and unlocked Jill’s bedroom window. Knowing the love of his life was armed, he entered, making a great deal of noise.
As he passed a wall mirror, he glanced at himself. His eyes were wild and shadowed with dark circles, his wrinkled white shirt open to the waist, exposing his bandaged chest and his jeans looking as though he’d slept in them. Unshaven and disheveled like this, he looked like a madman.
She wore hip-hugging terracotta slacks and a fawn white sweater that clung delicately to her curves. He took a step toward her. “You look wonderful.” She was everything he wanted. He grabbed her wrists and drew her into his arms.
She had quit trying to break free, and melted into him. Her words and actions didn’t match. Dane saw love in her eyes. He drew her closer and slowly lowered his head. Her lips were only a whisper away, warming and stirring the same delicate air he breathed.
“What do you hope to accomplish by this?”
He suspected she knew the huskiness in her voice revealed her opposing emotions, as did her yielding body language. His hope soared. “A fair hearing—time to plead my case.”
“This idiotic shenanigan is a perfect example of the way you operate.” Her voice rose—she seemed to be gathering all of her pent up feelings and converting them to anger. “You decide to do something then you just do it, the rest of the world be damned—whether it’s to get a story or something else.”
“Can we talk about the
something else
?”
“Spend the rest of the afternoon with me. Hear me out. Then if you want me to leave you alone, I will. But don’t end it like this.”
“I told you my case involves kids...” She glared at him. “Why am I explaining this to you? And don’t think for a minute that I’m giving in.”
“If I agree...” Jill looked stunned, as if her relenting words had caught her off guard and betrayed her determination to avoid him.
He felt a rush of relief. “You won’t be sorry, I promise. I’ll pick you up at seven. He gave her a jaunty salute and left before she could change her mind.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Where the devil are you taking me? I assumed dinner would be at your apartment.”
He wondered when she’d notice they were heading out of town on a road that wound through towering redwoods. “My lawyer loaned me his cabin.”
“I didn’t count on this, Dane. I’d rather stay in town. With nothing settled between us, going to a remote cabin sounds like a bad idea.”
“Give it a chance.”
Give me a chance.
The misting night was dark and cold and the windows kept getting steamy. He used his gloved hand to wipe away the moisture.
Jill gripped the seat as they took one hairpin curve after another. “The weather report said a storm was coming,” she said, biting the corner of her lip.
“We’ll be okay. It’s not much further.”
A light rain began, sprinkling the windshield with glistening diamonds.
Dane stared straight ahead intently, determined to have this night play out his way. Chasing the news, then just going home alone to an empty, loveless apartment wasn’t enough. It never was.
The hours they’d spent in each other’s arms had been a revelation to him. Jill had made him forget everything except the two of them together; and she’d given him hope—hope he could have love again, the kind that lasts.
It would work. Dammit, he’d make it work. Jill was so life-affirming that in spite of her job, facing death and psychos, they could live happily for however long life was.
He refused to let it bother him that she’d folded her arms unyieldingly over her breasts. At least she was here. “Why did you send the note and refuse to see me?” He braced himself for an answer he didn’t want to hear.
Jill touched her lips in that maddeningly sensual way of hers—he could envision her contemplating a lie, then deciding against it.
“Because seeing you would only make it more difficult to say goodbye.” Jill sent a discerning look in his direction. “But then you knew the answer before you asked, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I just had to hear you say it.”
She looked lovely in that suede coat, with her hair brushing her shoulders, soft, touchable. As much as he liked the coat, he couldn’t wait to get her out of it.
“A quick goodbye would’ve been easier on both of us,” Jill said softly. “You don’t want entanglements. Don’t want a family again. Don’t want losses again.”
“You’re wrong, two out of four. I felt some of those things once. But a certain blue-eyed lady Fed changed my mind about a lot of things.”
“For instance?”
He hated to talk about this. But she deserved an answer.
“Because of Laura and Davy, when I first met you I was afraid to get involved. I was afraid I’d lose you too. But getting to know you, falling for you, made me see I was comparing oranges to apples. You aren’t Laura or any other woman. You’re unique. And our situation is unique.”
“Impossible is more like it.”
Dane shook his head. “Not impossible, just challenging. Your job is more dangerous than I first believed. But I want you enough to accept that I can’t keep you safe. Enough to accept everything about you.”
She sighed. “If only there was really a chance this would work.” Her words were so soft he barely heard them.
He turned into a clearing and pulled up in front of a two-story, majestic A-frame nestled among towering redwoods. His attorney had great taste. “Let’s get inside before it starts pouring.”
He figured she’d welcome escaping the heady atmosphere of the car and the physical awareness that had thundered between them like a thousand drums.
He ran to her side of the car and held an umbrella over her head. “Come on, I’ll get a fire started and we’ll be warm in a jiffy.”
Inside the open-beamed entry, he placed the picnic basket and tape deck he’d brought along on the Italian ceramic tile floor. He knew this sprawling place with its gothic rise of leaded glass extending upward beyond the second level could never be spacious enough for her to elude him. He hoped that soon she wouldn’t want to.
Dane let his hands linger on her shoulders as he helped her off with her coat. She stiffened as if steeling herself against her feeling.
“Why here, Dane?” He heard the catch in her breath. He was getting to her as much as she was getting to him.
He shrugged out of his black raincoat. “With the way my life’s spun out-of-control lately I needed a place where we could completely relax.” He flashed a grin. “It does relax you, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, definitely.” She stepped into the dining area, and trailed a trembling hand over a mahogany stained table.
“You aren’t a good liar.” For one long sizzling moment their gazes held—he could barely breathe. “Cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he crossed to the sunken living room and squatted before the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. As he ignited the logs and wood chips that had been laid in the hearth, he felt her gaze, hot and intent. When he turned and winked at her, she looked away.
The rain flecked the towering beveled windows with glistening beads. “This was a bad idea, Dane. I’m afraid the light rainfall might be the beginning of the forecasted storm.”
“We’ll be fine.” He hoped the fire, now crackling in the hearth, would draw her close like a moth to the flame. But to relieve her mind and make her feel safe, he gestured with the picnic basket and headed for the kitchen. “Just have to heat the chicken in the microwave.”
****
Jill nodded, loving the sound of his familiar, deep voice.
Why am I putting myself through this? I want him, but not for a mere night.
That would only make our parting more unbearable.
Minutes later, Dane came through the doorway from the kitchen. He had a bottle of white wine in one hand, and two crystal goblets clutched between the strong fingers of the other. He poured each of them some wine.
“To understanding.” He clicked glasses with her. His brown eyes beamed unmistakable seductive messages.
“Understand what?” She didn’t understand! She was smarter than this. She didn’t understand him, herself, or what he expected of her. She tugged on her purple sweater. Did he think she’d just topple into bed with him? Not this time. Not even if self-denial killed her.
The microwave beeped its shrill signal, piercing the air that crackled between them. Dane winked, and headed toward the kitchen. “Hold that question; be right back.” He chuckled softly, looking entirely too self-assured.
Hardly aware of the weight of the crystal goblet in her hand, Jill took a bracing sip of the white Chablis. It warmed her throat, warmed her all the way down to her toes. The rainfall tapped the roof in an irregular, soothing beat. She stood close to the hearth, heating herself, trying to clear her mind. She took another sip of wine. Her neck muscles relaxed, and she felt herself unwinding.
This cabin seemed far away from psychopaths, her work, newspapers and the troubles of the world. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to get away.
Wonderful aromas of chicken and baking bread wafted from the kitchen. Dane hummed along with the soft undertones of music coming from his tape deck.
“May I help?” she called. As she passed the entry table, she turned her pocketbook over so that the pager clipped to it was no longer visible. She didn’t even want to look at it tonight.
He came through the doorway smiling. “Yeah, help me get this onto the table while it’s hot.” Dane’s dark hair fell over the side of his forehead. His double-knit maize sweater looked soft, touchable.
She grabbed the bowl of steaming potatoes and basket of rolls.
Dane placed the platter of chicken on the table. His gray slacks pulled snugly over his tight derriere. “See anything you like?” he asked.
Her face warmed. “W...hat?”
He grinned. “The food. You do like fried chicken, don’t you?”
She took a calming breath. “Love it.”
Love you.
“I was counting on it.” With the slow sweep, his gaze slid over her, igniting tiny flames along the surface of her skin.
Jill looked down. When she lifted her eyes, he was still staring. She smoothed her white English wool skirt, and sat down quickly, before her legs gave way beneath her.
Rearranging the silverware kept her trembling hands busy, but it didn’t squelch her rising desire. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone.
He passed the food. She took some and ate, expecting it to be tasteless. But all her senses were heightened.
Dane’s honey-fried chicken and almond nut bread melted in her mouth. Would his lips taste like almond or wine? Or both?
She envisioned herself, with a dramatic sweep of her arm, clearing the table, clattering china and spilling food to the floor. Ripping off his clothes...taking him there on the table.
Her out-of-control fantasies and rising desire were laughable. But she wasn’t laughing. Her background wouldn’t let her confuse fantasy with love. She was feeling the real thing—the enduring diamond of love.
Somehow she managed to get through dinner without doing something she might later regret. She was a mess! She’d completely lost sight of the reasons she’d resisted seeing him. Opposing polarizations split and raged through her—tension and yearning on the one hand, serenity at being with him on the other. It would be too easy to let the night play out naturally. She squeezed her napkin into a tight ball. She was entirely too pent up to trust herself.