by Debra Cowan
Sweet? Linc eyed her dubiously.
“You are,” she insisted. “You’re trying to keep my mind off Ramsey and I appreciate it, but he’s real, Linc. I can’t make him go away.”
“It doesn’t mean you can’t forget for a little while.”
“Until he’s caught, I can’t forget at all.” She hesitated, fear flashing across her face. Then she squared her shoulders and walked to him. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really think I should talk to Mace about moving me.”
“I thought we’d settled this.” Linc planted his hands on his hips, fighting to keep his emotions on an even keel. She was only trying to do something, anything, in order not to feel so helpless.
“You saw him! He means to kill me and he’ll do the same to you.”
“No!”
“Linc, you know what he’s capable of—”
“The only thing that’s changed here, Jenna, is what happened between you and me the other night.”
She blanched. “Don’t try to make this about that kiss.”
“Why not? That’s what it’s about.”
She sighed, exasperation flushing her features. “Do you ever hear anything you don’t want to?”
“You feel safe with me.” He threw out the words as a challenge. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes.”
“Then why leave?” He moved over to stand in front of her, wanting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, gather her in his arms and stroke her back until she allowed herself to be reassured, to be comforted. She wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t look at him.
“Admit it,” he said. “It’s because of what happened that night. I kissed you. You kissed me back.” His gaze bored into her. “You’re just afraid, Jenna. It’s new for you. It’s new for me, too. That’s okay. I can go slow—”
“No,” she said through clenched teeth, finally looking at him. Her fists curled at her sides so tightly that he figured she wanted to take a swing at him. “Listen to me, Linc. I’m frigid. That’s real, just as real as Ramsey coming after me. It’s not something I imagine. You mustn’t believe that it is.”
I’m frigid. He hadn’t forgotten her words, not for a moment, but he had shoved them to the back of his mind, intent instead on making certain she was all right. Now he could no longer ignore them. He hadn’t meant for this to come up, but he knew this was at least part of the reason she wanted to leave.
Jenna looked decidedly uncomfortable, but also as if she might explode. He knew the feeling. She hadn’t denied wanting him.
She’d never said she didn’t like kissing him. She’d only said she couldn’t give anything more than that because she wasn’t capable.
“If what you say is true—”
“It is.”
“If it’s true, how could you respond to me the way you did?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze falling to his chest. With obvious effort, she again looked him in the face. “I’m attracted to you—”
He grinned.
“I can’t believe it.” Frustration roughened her voice. “I certainly never expected it.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly.
Looking discomfited, she shifted from foot to foot. “I’ve never—I haven’t felt like this in years and it scares me.”
“It’s a little scary for me, too.”
She didn’t look reassured by his confession. “This...thing between us can’t go anywhere, Linc. And it’s not fair for you to believe it will.”
“You be fair, Jenna,” Linc said evenly. “I didn’t ask for anything from you that you weren’t willing, and able, to give.”
She blushed. “That’s true, you didn’t. Not yet. But I know where that kiss was leading, Linc. Look, I know how this sounds. I should probably stop right now. It’s been so long for me since I’ve done anything like this—I’m way out of my league. Maybe things between us would never go further than they did the other night, but you’ve got to believe what I said.”
“You’re the one who needs to be convinced,” he said fiercely, shoving his hands in his pockets in an effort to keep from reaching for her. “You’re a flesh-and-blood woman, Jenna. You were affected when I held you. I felt it.” His gaze dropped to her lips, then slid to her breasts. “I saw it, too. Lady, there’s nothing frigid about you.”
Heat suffused her face, but she didn’t look away. “You’re not making it easy for me to believe what I know to be true.”
“Good,” he said gently, though he fought an unfamiliar desperation spiraling inside him. He wanted her to believe him, not the curse that Ramsey had laid at her door.
She shook her head. “Yes, I kissed you back. Yes, I enjoyed it, but—” Darker color suffused her face and her gaze wavered from his. “Kissing is all I can do. I can’t—I’m not able—oh, good grief!”
She eased down on the love seat, her gaze pinned to the floor.
Torn between needing to hear her out and wanting to forget the whole thing, Linc sank down onto the arm of the small couch. “Why do you think you can’t make love with me, Jenna?”
She groaned and covered her face with her good hand. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
Linc reached and snagged her wrist, then gently pulled her hand down. “Why?”
Her gaze shot to his, eyes glittering with defiance. “Because I’ve tried before, okay? If it didn’t work with Steve, it won’t work with you.”
“Steve?” Linc’s jaw dropped. “Steve?”
She nodded, fiddling with her cast.
“You’ve been with Steve?”
“Thank goodness, our friendship was stronger than that...that fiasco.”
“Steve Majors?”
She eyed him drolly. “Try to stay with me here.”
“I am. I think.” Something hard and hot shoved up beneath his ribs. “When was this?”
She pressed her lips together, still looking uncomfortable. “About six years ago.”
“You shouldn’t assume things will still be the same for you. Maybe you weren’t ready. Obviously, you weren’t,” he said under his breath.
“I’ve survived just fine without sex.” Her glare softened. “But I couldn’t have survived without friendship—”
“I mean, that was a long time ago and—”
“Linc, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”
The desperation in her voice finally penetrated his denial. He looked at her, seeing the pain, the unease, the total conviction in her eyes. It didn’t matter what he believed. It mattered what she believed.
She rose, her shoulder brushing his, her gaze locked on him. “You can’t ‘fix’ me, Dr. Garrett. You can’t make it better. It’s not something you can treat or bandage. It can’t be surgically removed.” She took a deep breath, her voice aching. “This is just the way things are. I thought leaving might make it easier on both of us.”
He struggled against the sting of her words. He did want to make her better, but this was about something more. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“If I stay, what happened the other night can never happen again.” Her voice was soft, but firm.
Helplessness swamped him and he clenched his teeth in frustration.
Compassion darkened her eyes even as they urged him to believe her. “I know you think I’m saying this because I’m afraid and maybe that’s true, but I also know, I know that things will never be any different for me.”
Every part of him that had been trained to restore and heal cried out inside him to do that with her, to try just one more way, one more argument or procedure. But he knew he couldn’t change her mind, knew she would have to do that herself. Finally, he nodded grudgingly.
“I’ll do whatever you say, Jenna, but I know some things, too.”
Sad resignation settled in her eyes, but she studied him soberly, waiting.
“I want you. And you want me.” The words sounded harsh in the silence, almost forbidding.
Discouragement pulled
at her features. “Didn’t you hear me? It doesn’t matter what either of us wants.”
“I won’t push you. I won’t do anything you don’t want.” He shifted, inhaling her clean, lemony scent, savoring the teasing closeness of her breasts. “If you want me to stay fifty feet away from you, all right, but it won’t change the fact that I think you’re the sexiest, most stubborn female—”
“I have a black eye and busted lip,” she exclaimed. “How can you find that sexy—”
“You’re beautiful and I want you in my bed.” Conviction lowered his voice to a husky rasp. “If you change your mind—”
“I suppose I should be coy here and say you’ll be the first to know.” Uncertainty flared in her beautiful eyes and for a moment, just an instant, hope rose inside him. Then she shook her head. “I won’t change my mind. I can’t.”
“I still don’t want you to leave.” He shoved aside his disappointment, focusing instead on the fact that she had agreed to stay. For now. “Whatever happens to me, happens to you. I meant that.”
“All right.” Her gaze, softly pained, searched his face.
He wanted to lash out, demand she give this thing between them a chance, but he couldn’t.
With a grateful smile, she stepped away and walked toward the hallway, then disappeared.
Linc shoved a hand through his hair. He didn’t want her damn gratitude. He wanted her.
Frustrated, he sank back down on the love seat. He couldn’t give her what she needed. She would want too much from him. He knew both those things and right now, they seemed insignificant. Sometime, somehow the situation between him and Jenna had changed.
Yes, he wanted to sleep with her. Yes, the strongest, most primal part of his ego wanted to be the man to give her sexual pleasure. But there was also something more, something he couldn’t define. Something he wasn’t sure he could admit even if he knew what it was.
His wounded soul, his defenses screamed at him to do what she asked, to back off. Linc knew he wouldn’t. Or maybe he couldn’t. He only knew he would be there for whatever she wanted from him. When, if ever, she wanted it.
Now, he’d seen her and he had to find her.
Frustration ripped through him and Deke fought the urge to throw the chair through the wall. Where the hell was Jenna West hiding? Seeing her earlier had given him no clue.
At the cemetery, the camera lens had revealed in satisfying detail the bruises marking her face, the cast on her arm. A slow smile spread as he recalled their little meeting in her office parking lot, his hands around her slender throat, the fear in her blue-green eyes.
The old man had interrupted Deke’s attack, but it didn’t matter. He had other plays to run, plays that allowed him to call the time-outs, the penalties. And Jenna West would be the one penalized.
Seeing her at the cemetery today had given him a hard-on. Not only because he wanted to tear into that sweet body again, but because he’d been positive she’d show up there.
But he hadn’t known about the two men. One of ’em, the broad one with dark, wavy hair, was a cop. Deke drummed his fingers on the computer console. He had known that, even before seeing the man’s badge and the shoulder holster.
Deke had spent too much time in prison not to be able to smell a cop from any distance. Still, he’d checked out the license plate on the Internet and learned the four-door sedan was indeed an unmarked police cruiser.
But the other man... Who was the other man? The one who’d held Jenna West, the one who’d never left her side? Obviously, he meant something to Jenna. He was a little taller, leaner than the cop, and looked confident and arrogantly assured.
That man was not a cop. Deke had seen no gun on his lean frame, no badge. What was he? Who was he?
Cold, brutal fury slashed at him, the way it did every time he thought about Jenna West and what she’d done to him. She’d ruined his life, stuffed him in prison where, as far as the NFL was concerned, he was dead. She’d destroyed his life and he would destroy her.
Slowly, systematically, he would rip away every security she’d ever known, cut off her support, test her sanity. And he would have her again before it was all over. At least one more time.
Fingering the camera in his lap, Deke smiled. After developing these photos and adding his own special touch, he would send them to Jenna.
The digital clock beside the computer flipped past another minute. Elaine would be home soon and Deke didn’t want to be here. She was easy enough to manipulate, but her questions about his job hunting were starting to wear thin.
The night he’d been sprung from the pen at McAlester, he’d met her in a bar. She had picked him up and they’d enjoyed hot, fast sex in the front seat of her Volvo. Deke had told her he’d been injured in an on-the-job accident and only just been released after a long hospital stay. He’d then allowed her to convince him to come home with her.
Elaine wasn’t like any accountant Deke had ever known. She was good in bed and it seemed her brain for numbers didn’t extend to other parts of her life. Her questions about his efforts at job hunting could be quelled with a certain look.
She didn’t take the daily newspaper, so he’d picked one up. His picture had been plastered all over the front page, but Elaine hadn’t seen it. He’d never told her his real name so she paid little attention when the radio or television newscasters talked about Deke Ramsey. And he would’ve known by now if she’d recognized him for the photo they flashed on television.
Every night when the news came on, he made sure to keep her occupied. It wasn’t hard, since her entire world revolved around sex or deciding what bar to visit. She’d noticed nothing yet. If and when that changed, he was ready to move. Or kill, if he had to.
He needed Elaine’s place to stay until he could find Jenna West. Rage roared through him again.
Until he found Jenna, he didn’t want her to forget he was out here, waiting for her. And he knew just where to leave another message.
Chapter 8
Relief washed through her. At last, she’d explained fully to Linc about her problem. He didn’t believe her, she admitted wryly, tamping down her frustration. But she’d told him.
He’d said he wouldn’t push her, wouldn’t try to convince her that she wasn’t frigid. And she knew he meant it Still, she had seen the denial, the determination to prove her wrong glinting in his eyes. If he tried, it would only lead to heartache for both of them.
For the past three days, he’d been polite and reserved, not mentioning the issue again. Just after noon, a knock sounded on the door, interrupting her thoughts.
It could only be Linc and Jenna swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t want to talk about her or what had happened between them. She opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi.” A light blue oxford molded his broad shoulders. He’d rolled the cuffs back, revealing his strong wrists and forearms lightly dusted with hair. Well-fitted khaki pants, creased with knife-edge precision, emphasized his lean, muscular legs. His gray eyes searched hers as he held out a stack of envelopes. “I swung by your office this morning and picked up the mail. These looked legit.”
“Thanks.” She took them, careful not to touch him, avoiding the spark that always seemed to flare between them.
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t know you’d gone anywhere.” She didn’t like the sense of disquiet that inched through her upon learning Linc had been absent.
He shrugged. “I figured you were still asleep. It didn’t take long.”
Jenna nodded, glancing quickly through the stack, recognizing several bills, a notice from her dentist, and a large manila envelope from Oklahoma State University. Curious about what her alma mater might be sending, she lay the other envelopes on the dresser and opened it.
A piece of filmy peach fabric floated out and she frowned.
“What’s that?” Linc gave a bemused chuckle.
Peering into the envelope, Jenna saw a small bundle of the peach-colored fabric. She dumped t
he contents onto the dresser. Fluffy, sheer material and a photo.
Now she recognized the fabric. Dread iced her veins and she made a helpless sound in the back of her throat.
“Jenna?”
With an unsteady hand, she reached out and flipped over the photo. Her gaze riveted on a full-color shot of her and Linc standing at Wilbur’s grave. Something was written across the picture.
Nausea roiled through her. Horrified, yet unable to look away, she raised the photo.
Linc touched her arm, sending a jolt through her. “Jenna, what is it? What’s wrong?”
His voice sounded tinny, distant. “That’s one of my negligees.”
“What!” He reached around her, fingering the filmy material.
Jenna focused on the photo, realization slamming into her. Scrawled across her and Linc’s bodies were the words No Defense.
She trembled, so violently that she bit her tongue.
Linc’s fist closed around the peach-colored scraps of fabric and alarm sharpened his voice. “Your negligee? What else is there? What do you have?”
She dragged her gaze from the photo, tears stinging her eyes as she looked at Linc. With a shaking hand, she held out the picture. “He’s been in my house.”
Tension lashed her shoulders and she rolled them, wishing for relief. Stark images of Ramsey and his evil grin strobed through her mind. She kept reliving the weight of his gaze at the cemetery, touching her like a clammy hand, turning her skin to gooseflesh. Kept seeing her lingerie, the photo of her and Linc.
Mace had taken it all as evidence, but she couldn’t erase the images. Or the sense of numb futility that dogged her. She eased up to the bed and wrapped her good hand around one of the smooth cherry wood posts.
A tightness gripped her throat. How much longer would she have to stay here? What would Ramsey do next?
Jenna didn’t want to think about him. But neither did she want to think about Linc. Her confession about being frigid weighed as heavily on her as Ramsey’s games. She knew Linc had only avoided the subject because of the menacing package she’d received.
