My Heart's Desire

by Jo Goodman

  Rennie nodded.

  "I'll be damned."

  "Bishop Colden can help with that, too."

  He gave a short bark of laughter. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Rennie jumped to her feet, leaned over the bed, and kissed Jarret full on the mouth. She managed to elude the hand that snaked out to grasp her. Slightly breathless, laughing and glowing, Rennie dropped back into the chair. "Tell me what happened at the board meeting."

  Jarret sat up. He pushed back the hair that had fallen across his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Your father told everyone what he had seen at Queen's Point—or rather what he hadn't seen—then he allowed Hollis to make his own explanation. Hollis was prepared. He welcomed an investigation. I'll be surprised if anything can be laid at his door. I think he's managed to cover his tracks quite well."

  "That depends on who is doing the investigating," she said.

  "Jay Mac asked me. Hollis almost dared him to do it."

  "Good."

  Jarret shook his head. "I'm not so certain, Rennie. This isn't the sort of tracking I've done before. I can follow foot trails, not paper ones. Don't you think Hollis knew that when he suggested it?"

  "He probably thought he knew it, but you'll prove him wrong." She said it confidently, matter-of-factly, as if the outcome were a foregone conclusion. "Did Jay Mac talk at all about the train wreck?"

  "Only to give a small account of what happened to him. He couldn't speak of any of our suspicions, not without implicating Nina and Hollis."

  "I suppose it's a mixed blessing that some things are too personal to become public fodder." She sighed. "Did Jay Mac see Nina afterward?"

  Jarret nodded. "For less than an hour. I think it must have been a very civil parting. At least there were no raised voices. Mr. Pinkney packed your father's bags and that was that."

  "It's hard to believe," she said quietly, staring at the far wall. "I used to dream about Jay Mac leaving her and coming to live with us. Now that we're all grown up it's not quite the same."

  Jarret reached out to her with his hand. This time Rennie took it. She let herself be pulled from the chair and onto the bed. She leaned into Jarret, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, one arm lying across his middle. His fingers brushed her arm, just touching the edge of the bandage and then dropping to her elbow. It was restful to be held by him in just this manner. He seemed to know it. She closed her eyes.

  "You'll have to leave soon," she said.

  He nodded but made no attempt to move.

  Rennie was just fine with that.

  * * *

  It was the pounding below stairs that woke them. Jarret was on his feet immediately, reaching for his gun belt, while Rennie hit the floor a few beats later. She wobbled, trying to get her bearings and still her heart. "What is that?" she asked, reaching for her robe.

  "Someone's at the door," he said.

  Rennie looked pointedly at Jarret's gun. "Is that necessary?"

  He didn't bother answering her. He opened the door to the hallway, pausing only when he realized she was following him. "Where do you think you're going?"

  This time she didn't bother answering. Ducking under his arm, Rennie hurried down the hallway.

  Jarret caught up to her on the stairs. The pounding was louder now and more frantic. The muffled sound of someone shouting could be heard. "You wait right here while I get the door."

  Rennie opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Her eyes shifted warily to the large front door, and she held her ground. Above her she could hear doors opening and closing in the hallway as the rest of her family was roused.

  Jarret peered out a side window before he twisted the brass knob. When he let the door fly open Mr. Pinkney nearly fell into the entrance hall. Jarret helped steady the man, realizing soon enough that Jay Mac's butler wasn't drunk. His wild-eyed, distraught features had some cause other than drink.

  From the top of the stairs Jay Mac demanded, "What is it, Pinkney? What's brought you here in the middle of the night?"

  Pinkney caught his breath. His normally pale skin was ruddy from the exertion of his run. "It's Mrs. Worth, sir," he said.

  "What about her?" Jay Mac asked coldly. He felt Moira's hand encircle his. She gave it a light, cautionary squeeze. "Don't be arrogant, darling," she whispered. "Something's wrong."

  Jay Mac took a step down from the landing. "Go on, Pinkney, you can say whatever it is here."

  Pinkney removed his hat and held it in front of him. "Mrs. Worth's dead," he said. "She threw herself off the balcony."

  Chapter 15

  Two days after Pinkney's late night arrival, Mrs. John MacKenzie Worth was honored in a stately memorial service that had in attendance nearly every prominent denizen of New York. Jay Mac accepted the condolences of his friends and colleagues as graciously as he was able. From time to time he intercepted the darting looks of the mourners, the secretive glances that seemed to accuse him of Nina's death. It would have been worse had they known of his request for a divorce mere hours before her suicide. His own conscience gave him little respite.

  He wished Moira could have been at his side, but, of course, that was impossible. Yet she comforted him and lent her strength when they were alone, beyond the scrutiny of the public eye. His daughters did not desert him or wonder at his grief. They, unlike those who knew him less well, understood that his sorrow was genuine, that there was no hypocrisy in him saying that he would feel Nina's absence for a long time to come, perhaps always. No one thought he loved Moira any less for that admission, least of all Moira.

  Two days after Nina Worth had been laid to rest Jay Mac gathered his family in the parlor and announced that he and Moira were going away to the summerhouse in the Hudson Valley. "It will only be for a few weeks," he told them. "Long enough for me to collect my thoughts."

  Maggie, Skye, and Mary Francis were encouraging. Rennie held her comments.

  Jay Mac's arm rested around Moira's shoulders. He said to Rennie, "Your silence is speaking to me, Mary Renee. Are you concerned about Northeast while I'm gone?"

  Rennie didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes consulted Jarret, a question in them.

  "You tell them," he said. "Or I will. I don't want to wait until your parents return."

  Moira looked expectantly at Rennie; then her glance shifted to Jarret. She saw it in their eyes, the subtle exchange of messages without words. Moira patted Jay Mac's hand gently. "This has nothing to do with Northeast," she said. "Not a thing."

  Rennie smoothed the material of her dove gray gown over her lap. She folded and unfolded her hands. She knew her uncharacteristic nervousness was giving her family concern, but she couldn't seem to find the words she needed. She looked at Jarret again. Finally she blurted, "Jarret's asked me to marry him."

  Mary Francis laughed. "Is that all?" she asked. "We all knew that was in the wind, Rennie." Her beautifully serene smile faded when Rennie continued to look anxious. Mary Francis touched her rosary. "Oh, no, you're not going to have a baby, are you?"

  Rennie flushed red even as she glared at her sister. "Must you speak precisely what comes to your mind?" she demanded. She shot Jarret an annoyed sideways glance as he laughed under his breath. "I am not going to have a baby. At least not right now or anytime in the near future. What I'm trying to say is that I'm going to marry Jarret."

  There was complete silence; then everyone began speaking at once. Jarret held up his hand and cut them all off. "I think Rennie meant to tell you that we've already spoken to Bishop Colden. Rennie's annulment was granted this morning. We want to be married right away."

  There was another beat of silence; then they all began talking again. This time Jarret leaned back on the sofa beside Rennie and let them go. Rennie was enveloped in her family's good wishes. Jay Mac patted Jarret on the back on his way to pour drinks from the sideboard. He passed sherry and bourbon around and toasted Rennie and Jarret.

  "I couldn't be more pleased if I had planned the thing my
self," he said, raising his tumbler.

  Rennie eyed her father over the rim of her glass. "Papa," she said dryly, "you did plan the thing yourself."

  Jay Mac thought about that a moment. "So I did," he said. His broad face looked years younger as it was split by a full, proud smile. "Good for me."

  * * *

  They were married three weeks later in the small chapel of St. Gregory's Church. The guests were family and close friends. Mary Michael and Ethan sent their best wishes from Denver by telegraph. That same evening Moira and Jay Mac left for their home in the valley. Mary Francis returned to the convent. Maggie and Skye were delighted to take a suite of rooms at the St. Mark Hotel, enjoying a measure of independence they were rarely allowed to exercise. Contrary to tradition it was the newlyweds who stayed just where they were.

  Rennie and Jarret sat on the hearthrug in the study. There was a fire in the grate, and the two long-stemmed glasses that sat between them held a little champagne. A frosty silver pail held the rest. Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh had retired to the carriage house for the night. The fire and the champagne sizzled. Everything else was quiet.

  Rennie pulled free several of the pins that anchored the upward sweep of her long hair. She shook her head. The unbound curls cascaded over her shoulders and framed her face. The dark red tips lay with feathery lightness against the ivory satin bodice of her wedding gown. She placed the pins on the apron of the fireplace and combed out her hair with her fingers.

  "Let me do that," he said. Jarret moved around her so that he could cradle her with his body. She fit between his raised knees and rested her back against his chest. Jarret's fingers toyed with the ends of her hair. The back of his hand brushed her breast.

  "What do you think Hollis will do while Jay Mac's away?" she asked.

  Jarret gave her hair a tug. "This is our wedding night," he said, growling in her ear. "Let's leave business at the Worth Building."

  "All right."

  Her capitulation was too quick to suit Jarret. He knew her mind was still wandering. "There's little he can do," he said. "I had all the accounts and records moved from Jay Mac's office to here last night. That way I don't have to worry that Hollis may somehow tamper with things while Jay Mac's out of town."

  Rennie frowned. "How didn't I know you'd done that? Where was I?"

  "Right here in the study, collaborating with your father over the Queen's Point project."

  "I didn't hear a thing." It amazed her. There was a veritable mountain of ledgers that Jarret had been poring over in Jay Mac's office these last weeks. The task of moving them in the house couldn't have been accomplished quickly or quietly. "You should have said something. I would have helped."

  "Maggie and Skye lent assistance." He kissed her on the temple. "You were concentrating on something else anyway. I'm not surprised you didn't hear."

  She brought his hands around her middle and laid her own over his. "Do you think it's safe here?"

  Jarret heard the thread of anxiety running through her words. For all that Rennie tried to be indifferent about it, she hadn't felt safe in the house since she discovered her odd dreams of almost a month ago had been a drugged reality. She hadn't been alone in a room in all that time.

  "No one's going to get in here again," he said. He gave her a small, reassuring squeeze. "I should have confronted him the day after it happened instead of letting you talk me out of it."

  She shook her head. "No, it's better my way. In any event, there was no real proof. If you hadn't told me what happened, I would have gone on thinking it was a dream. Nothing good could have come from your meeting with Hollis. Nina had just killed herself, remember? He would have hardly been rational. Anyway, what did he gain by having Taddy and the others take me out of here, even for a little while? You and Jay Mac have gone on with the investigation, and I went through with the annulment. He's succeeded at nothing in all of this."

  Jarret wasn't so certain. Rennie was frightened in a way she had never been before. If that had been Hollis's aim all along, then he had succeeded. Jarret didn't mention that. Instead he said, "We still haven't shown that Hollis was the one who authorized all the expenditures. In fact, most of the evidence points to Jay Mac himself. It's as if Hollis, after setting his plan in motion, simply stepped out of the way."

  "But Jay Mac signed what Hollis told him to sign. He trusted Hollis."

  Jarret sighed. "I know that, but it doesn't change the outward facts that it looks as if Jay Mac was scheming to steal from his own company."

  Rennie's back stiffened. "That's outrageous!" She leaned forward and twisted around to look at Jarret. "Have you told Jay Mac this?"

  "We talked about it." He picked up a glass of champagne and sipped it. "He's always known there could be a problem. He's known it since he publicly confronted Hollis. Jay Mac risked a lot to do that. He thinks I'll uncover something."

  Rennie relaxed a little. "You will," she said, settling herself against him again. She raised his hand holding the champagne and drank from his glass. "You know that, don't you?"

  "I know you believe it," he said. He tipped the glass more and let her drink her fill. When he drew back, her mouth was wet with champagne. Jarret set aside the glass as Rennie turned in his arms. His mouth hovered over hers. His eyes searched her face.

  The small space of air that separated them closed. Their lips touched, clung. He tasted champagne and he tasted Rennie, and the blending was a heady one. Jarret's hands slipped around her back. Her satin gown was warm with her body heat and nearly as smooth as the sensitive skin at her nape. He lifted her hair aside and kissed her neck.

  His breath was warm, his mouth damp. She felt the gentle draw of his lips on her skin, the tingling suck of his mouth and the rough, moist edge of his tongue. She turned her head, catching his mouth with her own. It seemed that he took her breath.

  Rennie's fingers stroked the back of his head, ruffling strands of dark blond hair, then smoothing them back again. She traced a line around his neck, just above his collar, and when she reached the front she broke their kiss and began to remove the studs from his shirt. Her mouth touched his flesh as it was revealed, and he let her take her time, relishing the anticipation as much as the contact.

  Jarret shrugged out of his jacket. Rennie followed by removing his shirt. His skin held its bronze cast in the firelight. She looked at him, simply looked at him. Her eyes darkened as they moved over his shoulders, his chest, and when they lowered to the flat plane of his belly, she saw his skin retract as if she'd touched him there. It seemed forever since she had touched him. She was eager; she was shy.

  He watched the play of emotion on her face. In his mind he knew the outcome, but the waiting had an erotic power of its own. When she finally leaned forward and touched her mouth to his skin, he nearly came out of it. He looked down at her bent head, at the crown of her beautiful hair, and saw her then in the service of his pleasure and her own. The fragrance of her, the lingering scents of orange blossoms and lavender and soap, became part of his memory of the moment. His fingers sifted through the silken threads of her hair. It curled around his hand, sliding between his fingers and over the back of his hand like rivulets of warm water, leaving a trace of its softness and its scent embedded in his skin.

  There were two dozen tiny cloth-covered buttons at the back of her gown. The bodice and long sleeves were tight fitting, a shadow of lace and satin across her skin. Jarret flicked at one of the buttons tentatively. It held secure. He ran the palm of his hand from her wrist to her elbow to her shoulder. The pattern of lace remained.

  He sighed. Rennie looked up. It was the boyish look of frustration on his face that was endearing, the unshielded desire in his eyes that was intriguing.

  "You could always toss up my skirts," she whispered. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed small kisses along his jaw and just below his ear. She nuzzled his neck, teasing him with her smile and muffled laughter and the press of her body.

  Jarret palmed her buttoc
ks and began inching up her gown with his fingertips. "I think I will," he said huskily.

  She pushed at his shoulders. They toppled over on the hearthrug together because he wouldn't let her go. Her hair spilled forward, creating a curtain around their heads. She looked down at him. His hands still held her bottom. His thighs cradled hers. "Don't you dare," she said. She kissed him on the mouth. Their noses bumped as she kissed him again. They laughed, and the last vestige of nervousness was simply washed away in the fading echoes of that sound.

  Rennie sat up and presented her back to him, lifting her hair out of the way. His fingers plucked at the tiny buttons. He took his time, placing kisses in the space of parted material. His patience was maddening, perfectly delicious. When he was finished he stood and drew Rennie to her feet. Taking her by the hand, he led her out of the study and up the stairs. Their progress to her room was slow. He kissed her at the foot of the steps and every few steps thereafter. Each one took a bit longer, and the bodice of her gown dipped a little lower. By the time they reached the second-floor landing it was rolled around her waist, and the swell of her breasts rose above her corset and chemise. Jarret's mouth traced the shadowed curves.

  Just outside the door to her room he lifted Rennie. Her arms circled his neck. The kiss they shared was long and slow and deep, and then they were at the edge of the bed, stepping out of their clothes with careless regard for their finery. Rennie shimmied out of her ivory gown. She sat on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes and stockings. She cast a sideways glance at Jarret and smiled slowly, with her eyes more than her mouth. He was watching her.

  "Siren," he said. His own smile was wicked as his eyes grazed the line of her body. He kicked his trousers out of the way and tugged on the drawstring of his drawers.

  Rennie felt her breathing come a little faster. She fumbled with the laces to her corset.

  "Need some help with that?" he asked.

  He was standing right beside her, and she had no idea how he had got there. She nodded. Speaking just now was difficult.