Soul Deep (13 page)

“Yes, sir.”

He pushed the wheelbarrow outside, dumped it
onto a concrete pad the size of the average living room. “We
compost this and sell it to nearby organic farms. Between the
cattle and the horses, we have no shortage of shit.”

Janet laughed. “I suppose not.”

She walked with him to the barn that held
Chinook’s stalls and watched while Jack checked the stallion’s
wound and then tacked him up.

“Nate and I are the only two who ride or
exercise Chinook.” He led the stallion toward the riding barn,
Janet walking beside them.

“Has no one else ever ridden—” Janet’s cane
slipped on the ice, and she pitched forward with a cry.

But instead of hitting the ground, she found
herself draped across Chinook’s thick neck, his coarse mane
tickling her chin. The stallion whickered softly, slowly raising
his head and helping Janet back to her feet.

Stunned, she looked over at Jack. “Did he
just do that on purpose?”

Jack looked from her to Chinook, clearly
surprised, then patted the stallion’s shoulder. “Like I always
say—women and horses.”

When they reached the riding barn, Janet
realized she was in for a treat. She’d never seen anyone ride a
stallion before.

“Are you ready to show off for Ms. Killeen,
old boy?”

The stallion whinnied, tossed his head.

She stood back against the wall near the door
where she wouldn’t startle or distract the horse and watched as
Jack climbed into the saddle. Having just spent the day around the
other horses, she could now see how much more muscular Chinook was
than the mares or even Buckwheat. The animal’s body rippled with
tension, his chest broader and his neck thicker than those of the
other horses. She knew Chinook was capable of hurting or even
killing a person, but as Jack urged the stallion to a walk and then
a lope, there was no doubt which one of the two was in control.

She could have watched for hours, the grace
of rider and horse truly something to behold, a lifetime of love
and skill evident in Jack’s absolute mastery of the animal, in his
smooth motions, his flawless riding.

God, it turned her on.

What would he be like in bed? She couldn’t
help but remember what his thighs had felt like pressed against
hers when they’d ridden together on Buckwheat. It took real
strength and concentration to manage an animal of this size and
vigor. Would he have that same control during sex?

Okay, now she was being ridiculous.

Then he rode by at a gallop and smiled to
her, and she felt her ovaries explode.

But it didn’t matter what her ovaries had to
say. The situation was complicated. If she wanted to be intimate
with Jack, she would have to tell him.

Somehow, she would have to tell him
everything.

# # #

Jack stood in front of his mirror, adjusted
his tie, studied his reflection. He’d showered, shaved, even
changed his sheets. He supposed he looked decent enough for a man
his age. His tails still fit, which was something.

What in the hell have you gotten yourself
into, amigo?

Hell, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to
retreat. He had feelings for Janet, and she had feelings for him.
She was attracted to him. The kiss in the riding barn had made that
clear. And God knew he was attracted to her.

There was a lot more gray in his hair than
there had been the last time he’d set out to seduce a woman—and
more lines on his face. He’d been eighteen then and as full of
himself as any young man could be. He’d been the star quarterback,
the sole heir of the Cimarron, and popular enough that he’d never
lacked for male friends or female attention. He’d set his sights on
Theresa, and for some reason, she’d wanted him, too.

He knew their first time hadn’t been good for
her. He hadn’t known what the hell he was doing, and she’d been a
virgin. It had taken Vietnam to pull his head out of his ass and
teach him humility. Even so, it hadn’t been until after Nate was
born that he’d learned how to love Theresa the way she deserved to
be loved—and how to satisfy her fully in bed. Women were so very
different from men.

Not that he and Janet were going to have sex
tonight. He didn’t want to rush her, didn’t want to ruin their
relationship by becoming too intimate too soon. Still, if things
went in that direction, he wouldn’t mind at all.

He’d come up with this plan this morning
while watching her sleep. A romantic dinner. Maybe some
dancing.

“Go explore the library and then pamper
yourself for a while,” he’d told her after they’d finished rubbing
down Chinook. “And dress for dinner tonight.”

“Dress for dinner? You mean like on
Downton Abbey
?”

“Downtown what?” he’d joked. “Yeah, like
that.”

Megan was obsessed with the show, so of
course he’d heard of it.

“I didn’t pack anything formal.”

“I’ve taken care of that.” He’d stolen a few
moments when she’d been asleep to order a gown and flowers and have
them delivered, along with groceries and even condoms. “There’s a
surprise waiting for you in your room.”

The delight on her face had made him
smile.

Now, dinner was done. A maple cream pie was
chilling in the fridge along with the wine. It was time.

He ran his hands down the panels of his dress
coat, making sure every detail was correct. He wasn’t uncomfortable
in suits the way some men were. He’d worn a military uniform for
six years, and that’s what a suit was—a kind of uniform.

He drew a breath, tried to settle his nerves,
then walked down the hallway past her closed bedroom door and got
busy laying out the table. He’d almost finished setting the places,
when he remembered that this was Theresa’s favorite set of china.
He’d bought it for her one Christmas. They’d saved it for special
occasions.

He stopped, closed his eyes.

I love you, Theresa, and I’ll never forget
you. But I love her, too.

It’s okay, Jack. She’s a beautiful woman. I
like her, and I want you to be happy.

He heard Theresa’s voice as if she were
standing right there beside him. His throat went tight.

Ah, hell.

He hadn’t heard her voice for seven long
years and had surely imagined it now. It was probably just his mind
playing tricks on him. Still, any doubts he might have had about
the rightness of what he was doing faded. Theresa
would
want
him to be happy. She’d loved him that much, not a selfish bone in
her body.

He got out the good silver, took down the
crystal—white wine glasses, water glasses, port glasses. Then he
set the bouquet of flowers in place, started the music—Bach’s cello
suites—and lit the candles. He’d just carried the serving trays to
the table when she appeared.

The breath left his lungs in a rush. “You
look …
beautiful
.”

The gown fit her perfectly, its V-neck
revealing a hint of cleavage, its bodice covered with beads and
glittery stuff, the pale rose-colored silk suiting her dark hair
and green eyes. She’d put her hair up into some kind of elegant
twist and wore simple pearls on her earlobes. But it was her face
Jack noticed most. She looked radiantly happy.

“The gown is so lovely. I’ve never worn
anything like it. I feel like a fairytale princess.” Smiling, she
slowly turned so that he could see. “How did you know my size?”

He’d done a bit of research in her closet
early this morning, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Just a
lucky guess.”

“You did all of this? This is beautiful
china.” She touched a finger to the platinum trim on one of the
plates, then bent down to sniff a rose. “Mmm. Heavenly.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He drew out her
chair. “Dinner is ready.”

“That smells incredible.”

“Chicken Saltimbocca. It’s a favorite of
mine.” He served the meal, poured the wine, then sat across from
her. “I’m a simple man, Janet. I say what I mean and have no talent
for games. I want to show you how I feel about you so there’s no
chance for misunderstanding. If you think I’m trying to romance
you, you’re right. I am.”

“Oh, Jack.” She smiled, raised her glass.
“It’s working. Cheers.”

# # #

Janet rested her head on Jack’s chest, her
blood warmed by good food, wine and conversation, her body moving
with his as they slow-danced in the broad entryway to the living
room. Her cane rested against the wall, forgotten, his arms holding
her steady as they swayed in time to the music. Percy Sledge had
just finished “When a Man Loves a Woman,” and the Righteous
Brothers were now singing “Unchained Melody.”

She barely heard the lyrics, aware only of
Jack. The thrum of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. The hardness of
his chest. The subtlest motions of his body. The scents that
surrounded him—the spice of his skin, the starch of his shirt, the
dark amber tone of his cologne.

She tilted her head, looked up at him. “When
are you going to kiss me?”

“Right about now.” He brushed his lips
lightly over hers again and again until her own lips burned and she
thought she might go crazy. Then at last he claimed her mouth with
a slow, deep kiss that brought their dance to a standstill, one big
hand sliding slowly up her spine, the other holding her close.

Janet’s body seemed to come alive under the
magic of that kiss, her pulse racing, need for him flaring inside
her. She locked her arms behind his neck and kissed him back.

He moaned and slid a hand into her hair,
scattering her hairpins and destroying her chignon as he tilted her
head back to expose her throat, his lips pressing kisses against
the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She yielded to the thrill of
his touch as he licked and nipped a path over her skin, leaving
goose bumps in his wake, making her shiver.

He drew back, looked down at her. “Tell me if
I’m going too fast.”

“What if you’re not going fast enough?”

His blue eyes went dark, and his mouth
claimed hers again, this kiss fierce and unrestrained, his mouth
consuming her, one hand sliding up to cup her breast through the
beaded silk of her bodice.

Janet’s knees went weak, wetness gathering
between her thighs.

In one motion, he scooped her into his arms
and carried her toward his bedroom. She was so swept up in her
emotions, so swept up in him, that it took a moment for her to
realize what she’d said and how he’d taken it.

She would have to tell him
everything—now.

He set her on her feet next to his king-sized
bed, letting her body slide down the length of his, the feel of his
erection sending sparks through her belly.

“Jack, I’m sorry. But I … ” This wasn’t going
to be easy. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

He slid his fingers through hers, led her
over to the sofa that sat in front of the fireplace, and drew her
down beside him. “I’m listening.”

She took a moment to prepare herself. She
didn’t need to be emotional about this. She could talk about it
like she did any other case, any other crime. It didn’t have to be
her life she was talking about. Except that it was.

“You know I was shot, right?”

“Yes.” His thumb smoothed circles over the
back of her hand.

“The bullet that hit me was a 7.62 NATO armor
piercing round.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I
didn’t know that.”

“The round entered through the back of my
left hip, missing my femoral artery, but shattering my hip,
severing my sciatic nerve and fracturing my pelvis before exiting
in front.” She fisted her free hand in her lap, her body beginning
to tremble. “That’s why I can’t control my left foot.”

“Hey, come here. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drew her into the shelter
of his embrace. “Just breathe.”

She drew a few slow, deep breaths.

“That’s better. Just take your time.”

No emotion. Just the facts.

“The shock wave of the round tore my vaginal
muscles, too.”

“
God
.” The word was a whisper.

She wasn’t even sure he’d meant to say it
aloud or meant her to hear it.

“Surgeons replaced my entire hip joint, used
plates and screws to put my pelvis back together, and reconnected
my sciatic nerve. They were able to stitch everything else
together, too, but… ” She’d come to the really hard part now, and
the words spilled out of her in a rush. “I don’t know if it all
works. I don’t know how much function I have. I don’t know if I can
enjoy sex. I don’t know if it will hurt. I … I just don’t
know.”

Jack traced lazy lines over her shoulder with
his fingertips. “Did the doctors have any advice for you?”

“They told me I’d lost muscle and would be
very tight. They said that sex might be painful and that I should
expect some level of dysfunction, but they weren’t specific.”

“You haven’t experimented, tried to answer
those questions yourself?”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. “I … um, no. I
just never… That is to say, I don’t…”

Jack shifted so that he faced her, cupped her
cheek in a callused palm. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been
through. But I’m not Byron. I’m not going to turn away from you or
pressure you into doing anything you’re not ready to do. This is
about what
you
need. If you want my help figuring things
out, seeing what works and what doesn’t, I’m ready and willing. I
want you, Janet. I won’t lie about that. But I sure as hell don’t
want to do anything that causes you pain or makes you unhappy.”

“Oh, Jack.” Relief flooded through her, along
with a rush of tenderness for him. She knew he meant every word
he’d said. “I
do
want you. I want you so badly.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. We’ll figure
the rest of it out along the way.” Then he leaned in and kissed
her.