Eight

Under the small light above the cottage’s kitchen table, Melissa typed furiously on her laptop. She’d composed and discarded at least five openings to her article. She knew if she could get the beginning right, the rest would flow. It was always that way.

But she needed to capture Jared’s essence. No small feat. Every time she thought she had him pegged he’d show her another side of himself, and she’d have to rethink the package.

Maybe it would be easier if they hadn’t made love. Maybe if she hadn’t seen him naked, or gazed into the depths of his eyes, or felt the strength and tenderness of his caress.

She drew a frustrated sigh as the words on the screen blurred in front of her. Unless she wanted to sell the article to a tabloid, she was going to have to nix that train of thought.

Someone tapped lightly on her front door.

The sigh turned into a frown. It was Sunday night, and the two young women staying next door had invited her over for drinks. The two had seemed very friendly, but Melissa had begged off. Between her ranch chores and allowing for time to fly back to Chicago, she only had two more evenings to pull the article together. There wasn’t any time for socializing.

The knock came again.

With the light on, there was no sense in pretending she was asleep. Besides, they would have seen her through the window on their way up the stairs.

She pushed back from the table and crossed to the door.

“I’m sorry,” she began as she tugged it open. “But I really can’t-”

“Sorry to bother you,” came Jared’s voice.

His broad shoulders filled the doorway. His head was bare, and he still wore his business suit from the cemetery visit earlier. He wore a crisp, white shirt and a dark, red-striped tie. There was a frown on his face and worry in his eyes. “Jared.”

“I was out walking and I saw your light,” he apologized.

Even if she had been inclined to give up a chance to get more information, his expression would have melted the hardest heart. She knew he’d been up to the cemetery with his sister and brother this afternoon, and it had obviously been tough.

“How did it go?” she asked, stepping back to invite him in.

He shrugged as he walked inside. “About how I’d expected.” His voice was hollow. “We all miss Gramps.”

Melissa nodded, closing the door behind him. “This is probably the worst year,” she ventured.

“I suppose.” His gaze focused on something, and she realized he was staring at her laptop. “You travel with a computer?”

Panic spurred her forward. She closed the lid, hoping she’d saved recently. “It’s compact,” she answered. “Very light.”

“I guess. Did I interrupt-” he paused “-work?”

“I’m writing a letter,” she quickly improvised. “Can I offer you something? Coffee?” She gestured to the small living-room grouping, taking his attention away from the table and her computer. “Or there’s a bottle of wine…”

“I’m fine.” He eased down into the worn arm chair.

Melissa curled into one corner of the sofa, sitting at right angles to him. “How’s Stephanie doing?”

“She’s asleep now.”

Melissa nodded. She was starting to feel close to Stephanie. The woman was fun-loving and generous. She wasn’t exactly worldly wise, but she was perfectly intelligent and worked harder than anyone Melissa had ever met.

“I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Jared gazed at her without speaking, an indefinable expression on his face. It was guarded, yet intimate, aloof, yet intense.

“Tell me what you were writing,” he finally said.

Melissa could feel the blood drain from her face. The air suddenly left the room, and an oppressive heat wafted over her entire body.

“A letter,” she rasped.

“To who?” he asked.

“My brother,” she improvised, dreading what Jared must know, hoping against hope for a miracle. “Which one?”

She waited for his eyes to flare with anger, but they stayed frighteningly calm.

“Adam.” She swallowed. “I promised…I promised him…that I’d, uh, be careful.”

Jared nodded. “And have you? Been careful.”

“Yes.”

He raked both hands through his short hair. “Oh, God, Melissa. I don’t want to do this.”

She jumped up from her chair, too nervous to sit still, sweat popping out of her pores. “Do what?”

“It’s so unfair to you.”

What was he talking about? What was he planning to do to her? She found herself inching toward the door, wondering if the women next door were still awake. Would they hear her if she screamed?

“I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice was suddenly thick with emotion.

The tone made Melissa pause. “What do you mean?”

Was he going to yell at her? Toss her out of the cottage? Throw her off the property?

She was starting to wish he’d just get it over with. Should she try to grab the laptop?

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Never mind?

He came to his feet, and she struggled not to shrink away.

“Did you say something about wine?” he asked.

She gave herself a mental shake, struggling to clear her brain. “Melissa?”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you? I’m the one invading your privacy.” A beat went by. “And attempting to drink your wine.”

She forced herself to move. “Right. It’s on the counter.” What had she missed? What had just happened?

She heard him moving behind her as she opened a wooden drawer. “I think I saw a corkscrew in here.”

“It’s a screw top.”

“Oh.” Classy. She was willing to bet he didn’t often drink wine from a screw-top bottle. “One of the cowboys picked it up in town,” she explained.

“Did you have to flirt with him?”

“For screw-top wine? Please.”

Jared grinned. “I forgot. I’m talking to the master.”

“I gave him ten bucks and told him to do the best he could.” She hunted through the cupboard, but gave up on wineglasses. “These do?” At least they weren’t plastic.

“You sure you should be spending your hard-earned money on wine?” he asked. He poured while she held the glasses.

“You tripled my wages, remember?”

“Did we agree on that?”

“We sure did.”

He set down the bottle, taking one of the short water glasses from her hand. “Get it in writing?”

“Didn’t have to.” She gave him a mock toast. “I know your secret.”

“No, you don’t,” he responded dryly, downing a good measure of the wine.

She watched his stark expression with a whole lot of curiosity. Jared had a secret? Something other than playacting for his sister?

Okay, it couldn’t be as big as Melissa’s secret. But it might be interesting. And it could be exactly the hook she was looking for to get the story started.

Jared hadn’t meant his words to sound like a challenge. But he realized they did. And if the expression on Melissa’s face was anything to go by, she’d reacted the same way.

“So?” She sidled up to him, green eyes dancing with mischief.

“None of your business.”

“Then why’d you bring it up?”

Fair question. Better question, why was he even here? It had been one roller coaster of an emotional day. He’d been half blind with anger at the cemetery, holding on to his temper by a thread, knowing he couldn’t let Stephanie or Royce catch on.

He could tell Royce was suspicious. So when Stephanie went upstairs to bed, Jared had escaped from the house. Then he’d seen Melissa’s light, and his feet had carried him to her door.

He thought he knew why. He needed to spend time with someone completely separate from his family. Melissa didn’t know any of the players in their little drama. She knew nothing about his family but what he’d told her. She might annoy him or argue with him or frustrate the hell out of him with her approach to life, but she wouldn’t threaten his composure.

She grazed her knuckles along his biceps. “You said you had a secret?” she prompted.

Here was another reason to darken her doorway. Her musical voice soothed him. Her scent enticed him. And when he gazed at her lips, all he could think about was capturing them with his own, tasting her all over again and letting the softness of her body pull him, once more, into oblivion.

And maybe it was as simple as that. He’d come to her because he needed to forget for a while.

He captured her hand, holding it tight against his sleeve, the warmth of her palm seeping through to his skin.

“I want you,” he told her honestly.

Her voice went husky, stoking his desire. “That’s not exactly a secret.”

He smiled at her open acceptance of his declaration. He liked it that she wasn’t coy. She was confident and feisty. She flouted convention, ignored advice. There was something to be said for a woman who marched to her own drummer.

“I was expecting something more interesting,” she said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. A secret takeover of a multinational corporation. News that Ryder International was sending a manned mission to Mars. Maybe that you were really a CIA agent masquerading as a businessman.”

Jared couldn’t help but laugh at the last one. The knot of tension in his gut broke free. “The CIA?”

“Didn’t you read the article?”

“What article?”

“In the Chicago Daily. Two years ago. Well, they outed you as a spy in the lifestyle section. Though, I suppose if they’d had any real evidence, it would have made the front page.”

“You remember what you read in the Chicago Daily two years ago, yet you can’t remember how to tie a quick-release knot?”

“Are we still talking about sex?”

“You’re amazing.” He’d never met anyone remotely like Melissa. She was smart, sassy and stunningly gorgeous. How had the men of Gary, Indiana, let her get away?

“So you’re not in the CIA?” she pressed with a pretty pout.

He slipped an arm around her waist, settling her close and letting the balm of her company soothe him. A breeze wafted in over the river, fluttering the plaid curtains above the small sink. The lights were low, the evening cool, the woman beautiful.

“You caught me,” he said, setting his glass on the countertop and sliding hers from her fingers. “Ever slept with a spy?”

“You’d lie to get me into bed?”

“Is it working?”

“I’m not that impressed by a spy. I’d rather you were an astronaut going to Mars.”

He settled his other arm around her waist, squaring her in front of him. “I can be anything you want.”

He kissed her, gently, savoring her essence, forcing himself to keep it short. It was a struggle. If he let his hormones have their way, he’d be scooping her into his arms and tossing her on the bed all over again. But he pulled back.

“Is this why you came here?” Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted and soft, but her eyes were slightly wary.

He felt like a heel. “No pressure,” he quickly told her.

“Is it because I’m leaving?”

“Yes,” he answered honestly. Then he realized how that sounded. “No. That’s not it.” He cursed himself for stumbling. “Well, it’s partly…”

What was the matter with him? “I like that you don’t know me, don’t know my family.” He wrapped his hand around the back of a kitchen chair, giving it a squeeze. “It’s been a rough day.”

She moved forward. “I understand.”

She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the wariness was out of her eyes. What mattered was that she was touching him, drawing forward, stretching up to kiss his lips.

There was something unfair about the situation, something unbalanced, unequal, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. A split second later, he didn’t even want to try.

His arms went firmly around her. He wanted to pull her inside him, keep her there, cradle her while the world moved on without them.

Her arms snaked around his neck. She tipped her head, and he deepened the kiss. Her tongue was sweet nectar, the inside of her mouth hot and decadent. She smelled like wildflowers and tasted like honey.

His hands slipped down, cupping the softness of her bottom, kneading and pressing her against his driving arousal.

She moaned his name, and he felt her breasts burning into his chest, like a brand that would mark him forever.

He lifted her, shoving the chair out of the way, perching her on the table, tugging the curtain shut behind her, before his hands went to the buttons on her shirt.

She reciprocated, her breath coming fast, head down to concentrate as she worked on his long row of buttons.

He freed her shirt, slipping it off her shoulders, kissing the velvet softness, letting his tongue explore the taste and texture of her skin. He snapped open her bra, and it fell to the floor, revealing firm, pert breasts, capped with pink nipples.

She pushed his shirt down his arms, and they were skin to skin. She was impossibly soft, impossibly warm, silken and sweet and everything a man could possibly dream.

Their lips came together, open, full on. He led her through a tumultuous kiss that left them both panting and needy for more. He kissed her again while he slid his palm up her rib cage to cover her breast, testing the hardened nipple, drawing a gasp from the back of her throat.

He caressed her body, leisurely, thoroughly; while her own hands splayed on his back, her lips found his flat nipples, and her silken hair teased his skin with an erotic brush. He scooted her forward, forcing her thighs farther apart. His fingers went to her blue jeans, releasing the button, sliding down the zipper. His knuckles grazed her silken panties, and his mind fixated on the treasures beneath.

A gust of wind cooled his back. The crisp scent of the river and the sweet aroma of the fields swirled through the room. The moon rode high above the mountains, while layers of stars twinkled across the endless sky. Horses whinnied in the distance, while leaves rustled in the oak and aspen trees.

There was perfection in the world tonight. He was home and she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered for the moment. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

He tugged off her jeans, then slipped off her panties, drawing her exquisite, naked body against him for a long lingering kiss.

He finally drew back, gazing down at her ivory skin, unblemished against the scarred wood of the kitchen table.

“You are stunning,” he whispered with reverence.

“You’re overdressed,” she said back, her hand going to his waistband.

He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and let his body drink in the erotic sensations as she slowly dragged down his zipper, her smooth warm hands removing his pants, releasing his body, highjacking every molecule of his senses.

“You’re stunning, too,” she whispered, body wriggling, hand moving, sliding, squeezing.

He sucked in a tight breath, holding on to his control as he feathered his hand along her thighs. He stared into her bottomless eyes. She stared back as his fingertips climbed higher, and her hands roamed further, each of them daring the other to crack.

Her beautiful mouth parted. Her eyes glazed. Her hand convulsed, and he pulled her to him, slipping slowly, surely, solidly inside.

She gripped his shoulders and leaned in for his kiss. He melded his mouth to hers, slipped his hands beneath her and settled the angle, settled the rhythm, let the roar in his ears and the pounding in his brain obliterate everything but the incredible sensation of Melissa.

He wanted it to go on forever. He was determined to make it last. She finally cried out, body pulsating before going limp. But he kept on kissing her, muttering words of need and affection.

And then she was with him. All over again, building toward a second crescendo. And he held back until the very last second before allowing himself to tumble over the cliff with her, his body drenched with sweat, his mind filled with amazement.

He carried her spent body to the bed, climbing in beside her, settling the quilt around them as he drew her into the cradle of his arms.

“You okay?” he whispered as his head found the indent on her pillow.

She drew two deep breaths while he kissed her hairline, then her temple, then her ear. He burrowed into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. How could a woman possibly smell so good?

“Define okay,” she whispered back.

“Still breathing?”

She nodded.

“Nothing strained or broken?”

“Nothing.”

“Want to do it again?”

An hour later Melissa could barely lift a finger. But she could see why Jared was the fantasy of half the women in Chicago. Word had obviously gotten around.

She was lying on her back, eyes closed. The covers were a tangle at their feet, and a cool breeze relieved her heated skin. Jared was beside her, propped up on one elbow, his fingertips feathering a small zigzag pattern over her stomach. She was amazed he could move anything.

“You still breathing?” he rumbled.

“Barely.”

He chuckled at that.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted,” she said.

“Never?” There was a hint of pride in his voice.

“Well, maybe once,” she couldn’t help teasing. “The day my brothers decided to build a tree fort. I was eight and insisted on helping. They nearly killed me.”

“You’re saying I’m a close second to your brothers?” The pride was gone.

She opened her eyes and managed a grin.

“Still feisty,” he said.

“Even when I’m beat.”

“Tell me about these burly construction-worker brothers of yours.”

“What do you want to know?”

“If they’ll have my name on a hit list when I get back to Chicago.”

“If I was eighteen you might be in trouble.”

“If you were eighteen, I wouldn’t be in this bed.”

She chuckled. “But they’ve mellowed over the years. Caleb wouldn’t hurt a fly. Eddy’s head over heels for a kindergarten teacher right now. He doesn’t even call anymore. Adam, Ben and Dan are married with little kids and more important things to worry about than their sister’s virtue.”

“It’s strange to hear all that,” said Jared. “I keep picturing you as an orphan. How does such a big family let you wander off on the bus system without money? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s my pride. I don’t talk to them about money.”

“Still, if it was Stephanie-”

“What about you?” Naked in Jared’s arms, Melissa really wasn’t in the mood to have to lie to him. “Extended family? Niece and nephew prospects?”

“No niece and nephew prospects. Stephanie’s too young, and Royce…well, you haven’t had a lot of time to spend with Royce. It’s hard to picture him with a wife and a white picket fence.”

“And you? Do you really want four kids?”

“I like kids,” said Jared. “But I wonder…”

“It’s not like you can’t afford them,” she put in. And he’d certainly have his pick of women. She could give him a list right now if he was interested.

His hand stilled on her stomach. “Money isn’t everything.”

“Said like a man who has plenty.”

“There’s love, affection, fidelity.”

“Fidelity?” she questioned.

He didn’t respond.

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” she asked. He might want to marry the lucky woman before he planned the divorce.

Jared shifted. “It’s not a given.”

She tipped her head so that she was looking at his face. “Maybe. But you don’t go into something planning for failure, either.”

He was gazing through the open window at the near-full moon. “You can love each other, or appear to love each other, and your marriage can still crumble.”

“You’re a cynic.”

“I’m a realist.”

A sudden unease came over her. “Jared? Have you been divorced?”

He shook his head. “No.”

But she could tell there was more. She waited as long minutes ticked by.

“What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

Tension radiated in waves from his body. “Jared?”

“My mother was unfaithful.”

The admission hit Melissa with the subtlety of a brick wall. She was too shocked to speak.

“The old cabin,” Jared rasped. “That bedroom.” His hand raked through his messy hair. “Until I saw it, I’d hoped Gramps’s memory had somehow…”

Melissa’s stomach clenched around nothing. “Oh, Jared.”

He met her gaze, his irises dark with the depth of his pain. “My whole life, I thought their deaths were an accident.”

“They weren’t?” Melissa struggled to understand what he was saying.

“My grandfather told me. Before he died. I guess he thought…” Jared drew a ragged breath. “I don’t know what he thought. I wish he hadn’t told me at all.”

“Somebody killed your parents?”

“My mother’s affair started a chain reaction, and three people ended up dead.”

“Three?” Melissa squeaked.

Jared’s tone turned warning. “Stephanie and Royce don’t know. I have to pretend everything is normal.”

Melissa nodded her understanding. “You went to the graveyard to keep the secret.”

“Yes.”

And he’d come to her afterward. She had no idea how she should feel about that.

He suddenly pulled her close, his face getting lost in the length of her hair, his arms and legs imprisoning her against his body.

“It’s stupid,” he told her. “I barely know you. But when I think of another man…” Jared drew another breath. “For a second tonight, I understood why my father shot him.”

Melissa reflexively stiffened. “Your father shot your mother’s lover?” “Yes.”

She swallowed a sickening feeling. “And the man died?”

“Yes. And that same night my parents’ truck went off the cliff. But my grandfather didn’t know that. So he threw the gun in the river. Two accidental deaths and a homicide with no clues. Nobody ever made the connection. I never made the connection.”

Melissa’s heart went out to Jared. What an incredible burden. And he was bearing it all alone.

“You should tell Stephanie and Royce,” she advised.

Jared scoffed out a cold laugh. “Why?”

“They could help you cope.”

“I’ll be fine.” His voice grew stronger. “Today was the worst. It’ll get easier now.” He gave a sharp nod. “I’ll be fine.”

Melissa wasn’t so sure. “Do you think maybe they deserve to know?”

“Nobody deserves to know this.”

She wasn’t going to argue further. She barely knew the family. Who was she to give them advice?

“I wish I could stay here,” he said.

“Me, too.” She’d like nothing better than to sleep in Jared’s arms. The morning might be awkward, but at the moment she was willing to risk it.

His hug loosened. “I leave for Chicago tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh.” She thought he was talking about staying the night. But he meant he was leaving the ranch. She backed off, slightly embarrassed by her presumption. She forcibly lightened her tone. “Of course. I know you have a big company to run.”

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Come to Chicago. I have a Genevieve Fund event Tuesday night. We could go together. Spend a couple of nights in the city. Afterward, I’ll buy you a plane ticket to Seattle. You’ll be right back on schedule with your trip, and you won’t have to worry about the bus.”

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