Words meant to fill spaces were only making things worse. He looked at Annie huddled in her seat with her back to the door, staring at her hands clenched in her lap. "Most of us don't deserve what we get," he said.
"Or don't get what we deserve," she said. "I've heard about mothers who've killed someone who'd threatened their children. I never thought I could do that, but now I know I could."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he murmured. "Juries seldom understand passion or truth in a defense."
She shifted and he knew that she was looking at him now. "When you told them the truth, they didn't believe you, did they?"
"A jury never heard my story. I beat the hell out of the guy, so I couldn't claim I was innocent, and they only had my word about why I did it. I opted for a plea bargain."
"Why? Maybe a jury—"
"Did I tell you who the guy was that I found raping that girl?"
"No."
"Gerald Darling, a talk show host in the Boston area. He's a downright saint in those parts. I worked for him for six months and he wasn't even close to being a saint. He's a drug addict, mean as horse manure and usually takes whatever he wants to take.
"But if I'd gone in front of a jury, twelve good people would have listened to him declaring his innocence, backed by a woman who swore she was involved with him because she wanted to be. I'd have come off as a lout who went crazy, beat the man half to death, then tried to cover my tracks by claiming I thought she was being raped."
"Maybe they would have been smart enough to see through his lies."
"Image is his business, and he's damned good at it."
"But you don't have a record, do you?"
"Years back I was known to take care of myself, and I've had my share of run-ins with the law. But nothing major." He laughed roughly. "Terminal stupidity, I guess it was always there."
"You should have taken the chance at a trial."
"If I'd gone to trial for attempted murder, the charge the D.A. was going to push, I could have gotten twenty to life instead of five years, no matter what my past was. I figured I could take anything for two years, if I got good time."
"But you lost two years of your life."
What life? he thought, but merely said, "Actually, it was almost worth it to see Darling lying on the ground grabbing for his teeth."
"There wasn't anyone who'd back you up or help?"
"I didn't have a Jeannie and Charlie in my life, just my attorney and he was paid well for it. He got most of my money."
"What happened to Darling?"
"According to my well-paid attorney, he went into a rehab program very quietly about two months after the incident, and he's still got his talk show." He exhaled harshly. "Actually, I'd be in the television room at the prison and there he'd be up on the screen, smiling and talking and having a life."
"It must have been awful for you."
"It was passable. There were other things to worry about inside than Darling out there having a good time. I learned that you get through by living your life and letting others lead theirs. That's all you can do."
"You didn't do that when you tried to stop that man from raping the woman."
"Look where it got me."
"So you just isolate yourself?"
"I live my life," he muttered, hating the way she was throwing his own words back at him. "That's all I can handle, and sometimes I don't handle that very well."
Annie knew the feeling. The numbness had been slipping since she left the gas station, and now it was all but gone. As Quint spoke, she felt as if she were one raw nerve. "Most of us don't handle life very well, but we try."
"And you survive?"
"I try."
"What about before you met Trevor Raines, what was your life like?"
She was edgy, and the words were a diversion for her, a way to keep from facing her problems in silence. And talking about her past seemed safe. She could barely remember that life, and it didn't have the edges to it that talking about the present had.
"I was an only child, and when my parents died I was seventeen. They left enough for me to get by if I didn't need anything past the necessities. I graduated from high school a year early, but I couldn't manage college, so I went to work … waitressing, clerking, whatever I could find.
"When I got to Taos, I applied for a job at the restaurant, and the rest, as they say, is history."
"Then you met Trevor Raines?"
"Yes, and he seemed like fun, like he didn't have a care in the world, and I fell for it. And when he came back two months ago, I was exhausted from worrying and trying to make things work." That girl had been so tired of being alone and trying to make things work for herself. "And he offered a life that seemed so good. It would have been wonderful for Sammi. She would have had everything."
"But it blew up in your face."
She could feel her stomach knotting. "I was stupid and gullible."
"And you did what you thought you had to do."
"So did you."
"You can't compare what I've done with my life with what you've done in your life."
"We both waded in, thinking we were doing the best thing."
"Random acts of mindless stupidity."
"I guess so."
"After you get Sammi, what then?"
"I don't know. I'll have to figure it out as I go along. I've got a bit of money saved. And my car…" She sighed as she remembered the last glimpse she had of her car nose down in the ditch. "I'll figure it out."
"I've been thinking about your car."
"What about it?"
"Why don't you let me help you out?"
"What?"
"You went off the road because of me, so why not let me give you some money to help out? I didn't spend anything in prison, and the lawyer left some of it intact."
He was serious. "I wasn't watching and pulled out in front of you. That's hardly your fault. I should be thanking you for not hitting me right then."
"But you need—"
"No, I don't need your money." She turned away from him. "I don't want it."
"I was just trying to help."
"I know what you were doing."
"What's that?"
She looked back at him. "You've made it really clear that what happened between us was a lapse in sanity. That's enough. You don't have to salve your conscience by paying me. That would make me feel like a…a…" She almost choked on the word.
"Like what?" he demanded, his voice low and tight.
"You know."
"Yeah, I do, and believe me, I didn't mean it that way. If I wanted to pay for sex, I would have hit a whorehouse when I got out. Twenty bucks and no conscience. The perfect solution, if that's what I was looking for."
Annie turned from the sight of him, her face flaming as she absorbed his words. And even worse was the fact that she felt physically sick at the thought of Quint being with another woman, even a prostitute. But the horrible truth was she had no right feeling anything like that. There would surely be a lot of women in his life, and she wasn't going to be one of them.
She felt the car's speed increase, then looked around and realized that Quint had turned off the main highway and headed north. "What are you doing?" she said as she looked back at Quint.
The night was a great shield, saving her from meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm driving?"
"Where? Taos is west, not north."
"You said you were heading north at the Pennington interchange. Well, we just hit it and we're going north."
"No, not us. I'm going north, not you."
"My car, my rules. I'll take you to your friend's house then I'll drop you. Now, tell me where I'm going."
She felt drained and there wasn't anything left in her to fight Quint. Then without warning, lightning cut through the sky, crashing with forked fury into the land to the north and bathing the world in a flash of pale light.
"How far do we have to go?" Quint asked.
"Eight or
nine miles," she said as the world settled back into the darkness of night.
"We've got time before the storm breaks," he said and she felt the car speed up.
She looked ahead at the road where it cut into a high valley, with mountains on either side and grassy grazing land framing the road. And she couldn't believe that they were so close to success. She stared into the night and when another lightning bolt ripped across the heavens, she flinched.
She felt fragmented, filled with excitement and joy in one part, to be so close to seeing Sammi again, to holding her and knowing she was all hers. Yet there was an ache deep inside her, too, when she thought about Quint walking out of her life in a short time. She was going to miss him, not the man who'd turned from her, but the man who had held her and made love to her at the cabin.
She cut off those thoughts when she recognized the land, the scrub oak and aspens, then they rounded a corner and she spotted the road that led to Jeannie's house.
"Turn right there," she said.
As Quint slowed the car and turned onto the lane that climbed higher, it started to rain. The drops were large and scattered, and a cool breeze started to build.
"How far is it?" he asked.
"Right at the top of the hill."
She felt the car's back tires spin as the rain began to form a thin layer of slick water on the pavement, then traction was there and the car took the steep hill easily.
As they crested the top of the road, a bolt of lightning rocked the land, and its pale light exposed the house and the area around it. The single-story structure looked like a Spanish hacienda, fashioned of dark wood, adobe brick and a red clay tile roof. The veranda stretched the length of the house, supported by dark wooden posts set in terracotta tile, and there wasn't a light on in the whole house.
As lightning crashed around them again, the rain began to come down in torrents and Annie sat forward. She was getting drenched, but she didn't care. As soon as Quint stopped the car on the drive by the triple car garage, Annie scrambled out and ran for the front door.
She heard Quint yell after her, "I'll put the top up and get your bag," but she didn't stop. She went up the tiled steps and hurried to the door. As rain beat down on the land, Annie grabbed the door and turned the knob. But it didn't give. The house was locked up tight. She backed up, looking up and down the front of the house, then went back to the door and hit it with her fist.
"Jeannie! Jeannie! It's me!" she screamed, but nothing stirred behind the barrier.
"Haven't they gotten here?" Quint said from behind her.
She pressed her forehead to the door and closed her eyes tightly. "They had an hour's drive, and it's been three hours since I talked to Jeannie." She swallowed hard. "They should be here. But … but they … they aren't. No one's here."
"Annie, there's any number of reasons why they're late that have nothing to do with Trevor."
She turned, tears mingling with the rain on her face. "He found her, Quint. Trevor got Sammi."
A flash of lightning shot from the sky behind Quint, making a stark silhouette out of the man. He was drenched, with his T-shirt molded to his chest and shoulders and his hair pressed against his head. She couldn't see his face at all in the stark contrast of light and dark.
"You don't know that for sure. Anything could have happened. So, first thing, we go in the house and if they have their phone connected, we can call their place. If they don't, I'll go back to find a pay phone and call."
"I don't have a key. I thought they'd be here." She was shivering from nerves and the chill of the rain. "They sh-should…"
Quint moved past her, took something out of his pocket, and when she turned, she saw the door swing silently open. Quint pushed something in his pocket and said, "Don't ask. Just accept the fact the door's open. Now, come on inside out of the rain."
She hurried past him into the house and felt for the light switch on the wall. She flipped it up, and a light by a dark leather couch beside an adobe fireplace flashed on. Its low light touched the large living room with just enough light to see the phone on the table by the couch.
Annie hurried over to the phone on an end table by the couch and grabbed the receiver. She stopped when she saw a red light flashing frantically on the answering machine sitting by it.
Quint came up behind her, then reached past her to press the "Play" button. As he drew back, a computerized voice said, "You have one message." A beep sounded, then Jeannie's voice came on.
"Had a problem, but it's settled, and we're on our way. Stay by the phone. We'll be there in an hour." The beep sounded, then the monotone voice said the date and time. They'd missed Jeannie's call by four minutes.
"Oh, God," Annie said, burying her face in her hands, her relief so great that she could feel her legs giving way. The next thing she knew, Quint had her in his arms, holding her to him, and she let herself lean on him. "She's on her way," she whispered against the damp heat of his chest.
"Yes, she is, and it's all going to be all right for you."
Even as she heard his words, she knew how wrong he was. Sammi would get here and she was more than thankful for that, but everything wouldn't be all right. Not as long as he was leaving. She tipped her head back and looked up into his face.
This was all she'd ever have. The memory of him holding her, the scent of rain and maleness clinging to him, and she wanted so much more. So very much more. So she took a gamble, and stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his. At first he didn't respond and she was afraid he'd set her back and let her go.
But he didn't break the contact. With a low groan that echoed deep inside her, he pulled her to him. There was no gentle taking in Quint's touch, no patience, no leisurely building of passion. The aching need and burning desire were there instantly, white-hot and all consuming. Without a moment of hesitation, she gave in to it.
With every touch, every contact, she felt the man burning his imprint in her soul, a remembrance for her so she'd never forget this man. It didn't matter to her why he was doing this, all that mattered was he was here, and she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
His hands worked their way under her damp top, frantically pushing aside the clinging cotton until he was touching her breasts. She shuddered and almost cried out from the intensity of the sensations. Arching to him, she ached for more, hating the barrier of clothing that was stopping skin to skin contact.
Awkwardly she tugged at his T-shirt, trying to peel the damp material from his skin. He let her go and skimmed off his shirt, dropping it at their feet. She stood facing him, in the low light never breaking eye contact with him, then very deliberately pulled off her own top.
There was no embarrassment in her when the material fell away exposing her to his gaze. Her nipples tightened, and her stomach ached. To want a man so completely was new to her, unique, and so was the pain when she thought that this would be the very last time.
"God, you're beautiful," he said, his voice low and rasping. Then he reached out and cupped her breasts in his hands, but he never looked away from her. "We can't … not here, not when your friends…"
"They won't be here for over half an hour," she said, her voice unsteady with emotion.
He looked around. "Where?"
She took him by the hand and led him across the room into a shadowy hallway. Then she opened the first door they came to and stepped into a tiny bedroom. Lightning struck outside and lighted the small room for a flashing moment as Annie turned to Quint.
"Please," she whispered as she reached for the top button of his jeans. "One last time."
* * *
Chapter 13
« ^ »
"Yes," Quint whispered on a shudder as she lowered his zipper. Then Annie felt him with her hands, relishing his response to her, and the hissing breath he took when she moved slowly on him.
"Enough," he rasped as his breath seemed to catch in his throat. Then he let her go to push off his denims and step out of them.
&nb
sp; When he hooked his finger in the top button of her shorts, she stood very still. His eyes never left hers as he eased the button out of its loop, then skimmed the cotton down over her hips until it fell around her ankles. His sure fingers found the elastic of her panties, and in one smooth motion, they fell on top of her shorts, then she stepped out of both of them.
She lifted her hand and rested it on Quint's chest. As lightning slashed through the skies and rain drove against the windows, she felt his heart beating against her palm. And his stark image washed in the flash of the electric jolt seared into her mind.
When the room faded into darkness again, Quint eased Annie back until they both fell onto the coolness of the comforter on the bed. Side by side, they explored each other, their hands skimming over damp skin, finding places of pleasure.
Quint traced the swelling of Annie's hip, then splayed his fingers on her stomach. As his touch went lower, Annie held her breath and waited. Then he touched her, the heel of his hand pressed against her, and as he slowly moved in circles, she felt as if the energy of the electrical storm outside was shooting through her. The sensations rode one on top of the next until she thought she would explode from pleasure.
When she was sure the aching pleasure would fragment her, Quint was over her and his strength, silky and hot, was against her, testing her. And when she couldn't bear it any more, she begged him to take her, and he eased himself into her. He filled her, deeply and surely, and when he didn't move, Annie opened her eyes and looked up at him over her.
His hair fell forward, and she could see the sheen of moisture on his skin. She loved him. She wanted to tell him, to hear the words said out loud just this once, but she couldn't take the chance. She couldn't bear to have him leave her, to walk away now. Not yet.
So instead she began to move her hips and on a shudder, he moved with her to match her rhythm. She lost herself in brilliant feelings, the friction between them building the pleasure to a level that seemed surreal.
Then in a moment of pure sensations, when the world was transformed into a place for just the two of them, she let herself go. Right then, it went beyond anything she'd ever experienced before, and Annie knew that no matter what she had left when this was over, it was well worth it to love Quint one last time.
THE BRIDE WORE BLUE JEANS Page 15
