by Lisa Jackson
“And how would you know?” she wondered aloud.
“Because I’ve worked with you, Kaylie—seen you grow. Don’t forget, I was at the premiere of Obsession. I remember what happened when you were attacked, how Zane reacted. Can’t say as I blame him, either. He was scared spitless—and he should have been. Johnston was a maniac.”
Kaylie crossed the set and took a seat in one of the rose-colored chairs that she’d sat in for hundreds of tapings. So it was that obvious, was it? Even Alan, self-centered as he was, knew how she felt.
“You know, Flannery was just trying to keep you safe,” Alan said, then muttered something under his breath and kicked at one of the ottomans on the set. “I don’t know why I’m defending the guy—I don’t even like him. But he was right in worrying about Johnston attacking you again.”
Kaylie’s head snapped up. “What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously, nervous fear burrowing deep in her heart. “Is Lee Johnston going to be released soon?”
Alan, not really interested, lifted a shoulder. “If he is, it’s a well-kept secret. But he’ll be out someday.”
With that chilling prediction, he glanced at his watch and shot to his feet. “Got to run,” he explained, reaching for his briefcase and athletic bag he’d tucked near the island. “Got a tennis game with my agent. See ya later.” With a wave, he was down the hall and out the door.
* * *
Kaylie spent the next couple of hours at the station, checking her messages, but there was no pink slip asking her to return a call to “Ted.” She answered her mail, returned her calls and reviewed the shows she’d missed, talked with Jim and Tracy and got ready for the next morning.
Eventually Kaylie left the station in a car she’d rented for the week—until she could drive to Carmel and pick up her Audi. She had one last errand to run. One very important errand.
She drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, barely noticing that the steel-colored clouds were moving inland and that the sun was once again sprinkling the bay with golden light.
Driving by instinct, she was unaware of the traffic or the change in scenery as the highway was flanked by vineyards. In Sonoma, she guided the rented Mustang up a steep hillside and parked in her sister’s driveway. She turned off the engine and listened to the radio as she waited for Margot to get home from work. The interior of the car was warm, so she cranked open the sunroof. At five-thirty, the garage door opened, and Margot’s sporty little Toyota wheeled into the garage.
As Kaylie climbed out of her Mustang, Margot shoved open the door of her car and fairly ran down the drive to Kaylie’s car. “Kaylie! You’re back!” she cried, crossing the asphalt and throwing her arms around her younger sister. Margot’s shining coppery-gold hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her sky-blue eyes danced. “So tell me all about your adventure with Zane!”
Kaylie rolled her eyes. “Adventure? Is that what you think it was? He literally kidnapped me and held me hostage for days—”
“Umm—sounds divine.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Is it?” Margot’s eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait to hear what happened and I want details, Kaylie. Very explicit details.”
“You’re an incurable romantic,” Kaylie said, laughing nonetheless. Some of Margot’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I came over here to do you bodily harm, you know.”
“Why?”
Kaylie was speechless for a moment. “You know why! Because you were in on it with him.”
“And proud of it,” Margot teased. “And don’t give me this offended victim routine. It doesn’t wash. You’re crazy about Zane. Always have been, always will be. I don’t know why you just don’t admit it and make things easier on everyone. Now, come on, help me carry these groceries into the house and we’ll have a glass of wine to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“That you’re back in the city. Or back with Zane. Whichever you choose.” She glanced over her shoulder, and a dimple creased her cheek.
“I’m not involved with Zane.”
“Sure you are. You’re just too bullheaded to admit it.” Opening the hatchback, she eyed her sacks of groceries, chose one and stuffed the ungainly bag into Kaylie’s arms. “There you go.” Balancing a second sack, she led the way to the house, unlocked the door and was greeted by several yowling cats. “Miss me?” she asked the felines as she deposited the groceries on the kitchen counter.
She was rewarded with a chorus of loud mewing, which didn’t stop until she petted three furry heads.
Kaylie set her sack on the counter. Margot’s house, which she’d built with her husband, Trevor, clung to the side of a steep canyon overlooking the rolling hills and valley floor of the wine country. Margot loved this house, and though Trevor had lost his life in a boating accident nearly two years before, she’d never moved. The good memories outweigh the bad, she’d always say, when the subject of selling the house would come up.
“You know,” Margot said now, pouring dry cat food into three separate bowls, “you’re lucky Zane still cares enough to try to win you back.”
“You think so?”
“Umm.” Margot finished with the cats, washed her hands, then pulled a bottle of zinfandel from the refrigerator. Splashing some of the liquid into two glasses, she said sadly, “I just wish I had the chance to start over with Trevor.” A tiny crease marred her forehead.
Kaylie felt a jab of remorse. “But Trevor was different from Zane.”
“Not so much,” Margot said, shaking her head. “He was stubborn, arrogant, prideful and—” her voice cracked “—loving and wonderful.”
Wishing she could help Margot quit grieving for a man who’d never return, Kaylie said, “I miss Trevor, too. He was a great guy.”
“The best.” Margot’s voice turned husky, and she blinked rapidly against gathering tears. She took a sip of wine and sniffed. “I guess that’s why it’s just so hard for me to understand why you’re willing to throw away something so precious as Zane’s love when he so obviously still wants to work things out.”
“I just need to be independent.”
“Oh, that’s a cop-out and you know it. Let’s take these drinks and go outside onto the deck.” Margot opened the sliding door with her back. “Grab that bag of chips,” she said, motioning to a sack of tortilla chips. “And there’s homemade salsa, Chef Glenn’s best recipe, in the fridge.”
Kaylie poured the chips into a bowl and found the salsa. On the deck, she dropped the snack onto the round table and took a seat under the shade of the green-and-white umbrella. Margot was propped on the chaise longue, rolling her wineglass between her palms.
Kaylie dunked a chip in the salsa and took a bite.
“Believe me, I’ve had it with independence.” Margot gazed dreamily over the rail to the sunset blazing in the west. “If I could have just one more day with Trevor…” She frowned and shoved her hair from her eyes. “You know, the night he left, we fought.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I never had a chance to take back all the horrid things we said to each other. But you—” she glanced over at her sister and arched a fine, dark brow “—you have the chance to make things right with Zane.”
“It’s not that easy,” Kaylie admitted. “He kidnapped me, remember? Took me away against my will. Thrust his will on me without the least little concern for me.”
“Well, this might sound strange, but I’d give anything for Trevor to come back and try to protect me….” she whispered wistfully. Then, as if realizing she’d said too much, she cleared her throat and took a quick sip of wine. “Well, I guess that’s not going to happen, is it?”
“I don’t think so.” Trevor’s body had never been found. For months Margot had believed he was alive and would eventually show up, healthy and robust, but time and reality had finally convinced her that he had been killed.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to insects hum in the trees and watching the sun sink lower in the sky.
“Ma
ybe you’re too hard on him,” Margot finally said, reaching into the bowl of chips and thinking aloud.
“No way. He lied to me, Margot. And that cock-and-bull story about Lee Johnston—”
“That wasn’t a lie.” Margot shook her head, and a tiny furrow creased her brow. “You and I both know they won’t keep Johnston locked up forever. Zane’s just being careful.”
“Oh, save me.”
“I mean it, Kaylie. So Johnston’s not on the loose right now. He may be soon. According to Zane, there’s been talk. Now, come on….” The sparkle returned to Margot’s blue eyes. “Let’s hear it, Kaylie. What was it like being whisked to some romantic hideaway with Zane?”
Kaylie’s lips twitched. “I don’t know,” she said sincerely. “I can’t decide. I felt like I was caught somewhere between heaven and hell.”
Margot dunked another chip. “Uh-oh, that’s passion talking.”
“Maybe,” Kaylie admitted, wrinkling her nose. “And I haven’t forgiven you for your part in this, you know. You sold me out.”
“I only tried to help.”
“I don’t think I need it, thank you very much.”
“Oh, get off it, Kay.” Margot grinned and leaned closer. “Let’s hear all about it, and don’t you dare leave out one tiny detail!”
* * *
It was after eight when Kaylie finally parked in her own garage. She and Margot had gone out for Chinese food, and after Kaylie had told Margot everything about her stay with Zane—well, almost everything—she’d returned to the city. Margot would never understand leaving a man after making love to him, and Kaylie wasn’t sure she did herself.
She noticed Zane immediately. Leaning against his Jeep, his arms crossed over his chest, he was waiting for her, and from the looks of him, had been for some time.
“What’re you doing here?” she demanded, ignoring the tug on her heart at the sight of him.
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“I just wanted to know how things went today at the station.”
“Sure.” She didn’t believe him for a minute. He didn’t give a damn about her job. “What is it you really want, Zane?”
“You did go to see Margot, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know that?” Kaylie cried, and then a fresh sense of betrayal washed over her. “No, don’t tell me, my sister called you!”
“The minute you left her house.”
“Why?” Kaylie whispered, wanting to throttle her meddling sister.
“She’s a romantic,” Zane said, cutting her off. “She seems to think we’re destined to be together.” He started forward, advancing on her, and Kaylie didn’t know whether to throw her arms around him or run for cover. Instead she unlocked the door. “Why did she call you?”
“She seems to think there’s still a chance for us.”
Oh, Margot, how could you? “She didn’t hear our argument this afternoon.”
“Look, Kaylie, I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “I went off the deep end today at the office. I said some things I didn’t mean, and I…I don’t want to leave it like that.”
“I don’t think there’s any other way.”
“Sure there is,” he cajoled, cocking his head toward his Jeep. “How about a drive?”
She laughed. “We tried that once before,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”
With a flip of the wrist, he tossed her the keys. “You drive. I’ll let you take me anywhere you want to go.”
Her fingers surrounded the cold bits of steel.
“Come on, Kaylie. It’ll be fun.”
“No tricks?” she asked.
He lifted one hand. “On my honor.”
“Now we are in trouble,” she said, but couldn’t resist. “I must be out of my mind. We’ll take my car. That way there’s no mix-up with the keys. You seem to have a problem with that.” He laughed and caught the keys she tossed back to him.
She climbed behind the wheel of her rented Mustang, and Zane folded himself into the passenger seat. “Anywhere I want to go?” she repeated, ramming the car into gear.
“Anywhere.”
From the minute the car’s wheels hit the pavement, she knew where she’d take him—a remote stretch of beach that she’d discovered on the other side of the peninsula.
Zane didn’t say a word as she parked the car near the sea. He’d driven to her apartment on impulse, unable to let her go. Now, as she tucked her keys in her pocket, he knew he’d made the right decision.
The night-darkened ocean stretched for miles, disappearing into an inky horizon. Kaylie climbed out of the car. Rushing off the ocean, a breeze danced through the beach grass and trees, swirling and rustling leaves overhead. A pale moon, guarded by flimsy clouds, offered soft illumination and cast Kaylie’s blond hair in silver light.
The scent of the sea mingled with Kaylie’s perfume as they walked toward the frothy waves. They passed a few people, an elderly couple walking their dog and a group of teenagers bopping to the music cast from their radios.
As they neared the surf, Kaylie kicked off her sandals, cast an impish glance in his direction and taunted, “Bet you can’t catch me.”
Then she took off. Bare feet pounding on the sand, she laughed and headed for the pounding surf.
Zane grinned at the chance of a challenge. He struggled out of his shoes and socks, and though she had a huge head start, tore off after her, determined to catch her as he watched the wind stream through her hair and heard the soft tinkle of her laughter over the roar of the surf.
“You’d better run, Melville,” he yelled, exhilarated as the distance between them shortened.
Kaylie felt the wet sand beneath her feet, smelled the briny scent of the sea and heard the slap of Zane’s feet against wet sand as he shortened the distance between them. His breathing was loud, his footsteps pounding a quick, even rhythm.
Don’t let him catch you, she thought, wondering why she’d started this stupid game. She should have known that Zane would rise to the challenge!
Hazarding one glance over her shoulder, she saw him bearing down on her. In the moonlight his features appeared more harsh, and the gleam in his eye made her already thudding heart slam against her ribs. She pushed herself farther, the air burning in her lungs, her legs beginning to protest. Several large rocks loomed ahead. If she could just make it past them….
With a laugh, he caught up to her, grabbed her around the waist and spun her around, toppling them both in one quick movement.
He landed on the wet sand with one shoulder and dragged her on top of him, twining his fingers through her hair. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Did you really think you could outrun me?”
“I hoped.”
“Foolish girl.”
“Woman,” she corrected, and he laughed again, his teeth flashing white in the black night. Screened by the boulders from the rest of the beach, they were aware only of each other and the night surrounding them.
“Woman,” he replied just before his lips claimed hers in a kiss as wild as the violent sea. Kaylie could do nothing but kiss him back as he shifted, rolling over so that he was above her.
Any thoughts of denial receded with the tide, and she wound her arms around his neck and curved her body to his. Why was it always like this with him? she wondered as his mouth moved from hers. Softly he kissed her eyes and cheeks before his lips returned to the corner of her mouth again and his tongue delved and tasted, rimming her parted lips and touching her teeth.
Vaguely she was aware of the foam that touched her bare legs and toes, the cool sea against her skin. They were alone on this part of the beach, hidden by the rocks and the blackness of the night, as if they were the only two people on earth.
She shivered, but not from the water, as he slowly discovered the hem of her cotton sweater and his fingertips brushed the bare skin of her abdomen. His weight pinned her to the sand while his lips and tongue explored her
mouth and neck, playing havoc with her senses.
Moaning softly, she kissed him back, her fingers coiling in the thick hair at his nape, her body arching to his. She didn’t stop him when he lifted her sweater and dampened the lacy edge of her bra with his lips. Nor did she protest when his tongue dipped beneath the delicate fabric, gently prodding and wetting the edge of her nipple until her breast swelled and ached.
“Tell me you want me,” he persuaded. His breath whispered across the wet lace, tantalizing her with its warmth.
“I—I want you.”
“Forever?” he questioned, and in the moonlight she saw one of his dark brows cock.
He’s playing with me, she realized, but couldn’t control her body as he bent over her breast again and began, through the now-wet fabric, to suckle, gently tugging at her nipple with his teeth and lips. “Hmm, Kaylie?” he said huskily. “Forever?”
“Y-yes,” she whispered, a familiar ache beginning to burn deep and hot.
He groaned and rubbed against her, suckling and petting, his breath hot and wet, his body lean and hard. She felt the grit of sand against her bare back, but she didn’t care.
He shoved her strap over her shoulder, and her breast spilled out of her bra, translucent and veined in the moon glow, her nipple dark and standing proudly erect.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured, reverently touching the hard bud before laving it again with his wet, hot mouth.
Kaylie closed her eyes and cradled his head against her, wanting more, feeling the hot ache of a void only he could fill. Anxiously she moved against him, and her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. With a growl, he ripped the offensive garment off, then returned his attention to her pants. Groaning, he yanked her skirt away and kicked off his trousers.
“Love me, Kaylie,” he whispered, his hands on her shoulders, his gaze delving deep into hers and burning with a primal fire.
