by Debra Cowan
“You want...me. You can’t have me!” Fear spilled out, sharp and biting. “No one can!”
“Jenna, listen to me.”
“You can’t have me, Linc. You can’t.”
Alarm screamed through him, robbing his breath and leaving him speechless for a moment. “I’m not trying to take over your life like Ramsey is.”
Had he completely ruined her trust in him by teasing her in the truck? He stepped around her, leaning down to look into her face.
“I don’t want to own you or possess you or hurt you and you know it.” Pain threaded his words, making his voice raw. “All I want is what you want to give and right now that’s trust. We’ve built that, haven’t we?”
He waited for her to nod, or to deny it, but she said nothing. She did nothing.
“I won’t hurt you, Jenna.”
“You’re the only man I trust, besides Dad and Steve. He’s trying to take that away from me. He’ll kill you, just like he killed Wilbur.”
“No—”
“Wilbur tried to protect me, too,” she cried. Her eyes were wild, her face ashen. “What makes you think Ramsey won’t come after you?”
“We’re ready for him, Jenna. We’re waiting for him.”
“We weren’t ready for this,” she said baldly, gesturing toward the exam room.
Panic fringed her eyes, making them glow brilliantly against her wan features. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “It’s all a game to him. A sick, twisted game. He’s making me paranoid. I’m starting to doubt whether you’ll live through this.” She gave a short laugh. “I’m starting to doubt I will. He wants me to doubt everyone, everything—”
“Do you doubt me?” Linc stepped closer, wanting her to look into his eyes, to know that he was the one person she could rely on. “Do you?”
Her gaze locked with his. “No, but—”
“Then he doesn’t control everything. Not yet.”
Restless energy pulsed from her. “But he’s trying to take my life, Linc. It’s slipping right through my fingers.” Her voice trailed to a frantic whisper. “I know how he works and yet, he can still do it to me.”
A fierce urgency shot through him. Linc wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her so tight she would fuse right into his soul. “Don’t doubt me, Jenna. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t let him win.”
She stared into his eyes, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but—”
“But what?”
“But I should stand on my own. When this is over, I’ll be alone.”
“Right now, you’re not.” He wanted to remind her that she wasn’t alone, would never be alone, if he had anything to say about it. Instead, he urged her with his eyes, his voice to let him help her.
She hesitated, then acceptance crossed her features. “No, right now, I have you.”
She still wouldn’t let him touch her, but she no longer shied away from him. They walked out to his truck, her gaze darting nervously around, her injured arm pressed close to her side. Linc’s eyes burned.
Officer Sikes walked up, his dark eyes concerned. “Dr. West, I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d gotten here earlier—”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Fierce conviction etched her voice and she reached out to touch his hand. “I appreciate that you’re here now. I know you’re working past the clock.”
Faint color suffused his blunt features, but he nodded, glancing at Linc.
Linc nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
The other man smiled and walked back to his car.
Linc opened the truck door for Jenna and when she slid inside, he stepped up to fasten her seat belt. He leaned over her, his chest against her thigh, but she didn’t cringe, which sent a wave of relief through him. Clicking the buckle into place, he glanced up to find her staring at him, her eyes big with uncertainty.
“Just hang on a little bit longer, Jenna. That bastard will make a mistake and when he does—”
“Let’s just go to the station, okay?” Fatigue strained her voice, shadowed her eyes. “Then home.”
“You got it.” Linc wanted to caress her cheek, press a soft kiss on her lips, but that was probably the last thing she needed. Or wanted. He closed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side.
Though unsettled by the events of the day, he knew one thing. When this was all over, he didn’t want Jenna to leave. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted, but he knew he wanted to explore something with her. The problem was convincing her.
The image of that death certificate flashed through her mind. Over and over, tedious, paralyzing, terrifying. Numbed by a brutal chill, Jenna felt as if she looked down on herself from a great height. Knowing she was supposed to do something, feel something, and able to do neither.
She slid out of the truck and preceded Linc into the house, only now becoming aware of her surroundings. All during her statement at the police station, she had operated like an automaton, deliberately blanking her mind. Now, juxtaposed images, conflicting messages whirled through her mind.
Ramsey’s silent, but explicit threat, made clear by the death certificate. I’ll get you. You’ll never escape me.
Linc’s unwavering support. You’re not alone. We’ll beat him together.
She desperately wanted to believe Linc, to grasp on to his words and draw strength from them, but his promise seemed a fragile hope in the face of Ramsey’s vicious determination.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even breathe without Ramsey slithering into her thoughts, triggering the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia, all as brackish and lethal as a dose of poison.
He had forced her into seclusion. The cops repeatedly ordered her to stay hidden. Even Linc, though he meant no harm, monitored her constantly. She wanted to go outside without a bodyguard, walk from one end of the house to the other without feeling as if she were this month’s specimen under a microscope.
Through her numbness seeped the realization that Ramsey had already succeeded in at least one thing. She had no power over her own life.
That comprehension sent a charge of energy through her. Silence enveloped the house, broken only by the low murmur of Linc’s voice from the kitchen and the click of the dog’s toenails on the tile floor.
The quietness should’ve pricked her nerves, but she found it soothing. As she did the fact that Linc was here. Slowly she became aware of the soft lights from the lamps he had flicked on behind her. Hearing footsteps, she turned as he walked in from the other room.
His gaze, intense and careful, settled on her. “I let the dogs out.”
Meaning the animals would patrol the grounds and alert them if someone arrived. She nodded, wanting to do something, say something, but uncertain as to what. Something niggled at her. Something she’d said...
At the clinic, the stress of seeing the death certificate, the almost constant uneasiness of the last weeks had crashed in on her. Her control had shattered and paranoid fear had driven out those awful words.
You want... me! You can’t have me. No one can!
“Linc, I want to apologize.”
“For what?” He looked startled as he walked toward her.
“For what I said at the clinic. I don’t know what possessed me to accuse you that way, to say those things—”
“Jenna, stop.”
“I know you don’t want to control my life the way he does. I don’t know why I said it.”
“How about because you were scared to death?” He reached her, soft lamplight reflected in his beautiful gray eyes. “Or maybe operating on psychological shock?”
“It’s no excuse.” She recalled the pain in his eyes, the hurt that had pinched his features. “I’m truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You’ve been only wonderful to me and—”
“It’s forgotten, Jenna. I understand what you’re going through and—”
“Would you please let me do this, Linc? Stop finding excuses for me. I hurt you. I was wrong. I ow
e you an apology.”
“After what you’ve been through—”
“It doesn’t give me the right to hurt you. And I did,” she said quietly. “I hate that.”
His hand rose to her shoulder. “Hey, I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.”
“Well, don’t!” She hadn’t meant for the words to be so harsh, but that brutal icy fear burned through her. Ramsey was closing in. She could feel it, sense it, and panic fluttered at her. “I’m sick of everything being about me. Aren’t you?”
He shook his head, confusion plain in his eyes.
“Be honest.” She laughed shortly. “Everything revolves around how I’m doing, how I’m holding up. It makes me sick. It’s got to bother you.”
“I just want you to be all right. What can I do to make that happen for you?”
“If you were smart, you’d run the other way,” she muttered, only half joking.
“Not an option.” His jaw firmed. “Stop trying to get rid of me and enjoy the fact that you have me at your beck and call.”
“That’s not what I want.” Frustration rippled through her.
“Then what?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” A second later, she tilted her head. She was sick of being the focus. She felt like the invalid matriarch who waited to die while everyone hovered over her, scrutinizing, studying relentlessly. “Yes, I do. Tell me about yourself.”
That fast, his concern changed to wariness and he moved away from her, walking over to the fireplace. “What’s to tell? You know everything about me that’s worth knowing.”
“There are parts of you I know nothing about.”
He stood at the mantel, hands shoved in his pockets, his back to her. “Like what?”
“Like your family, for instance.” Her gaze moved above his shoulder and rested on the framed photograph atop the oak mantel. She walked over and took it down. “What about your brothers?”
Linc studied her as if weighing the consequences of her request. Then he gently lifted the frame from her hand, affection shining in his eyes. “Well, you know Mace. And I already told you Sam is a cop, too. He’s the...charmer of the family, I suppose.”
“He works Vice, did you say?”
“Used to. Just transferred to Homicide after—” He broke off, indecision and pain shadowing his features.
Curious, Jenna prodded. “After what?”
“He and his partner were in a shoot-out.” Linc’s gaze measured her and she knew he wondered if she could handle what he was about to say.
She nodded, urging him on.
“His partner was killed and Sam blames himself for it. He shouldn’t, but he does. Sometimes we don’t see him for weeks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We all handle pain in our own way, I guess.” He shrugged, replacing the frame. “I wouldn’t win any prizes for the way I’ve dealt with some things, especially concerning you.”
“You’re talking about that night in the barn. Please forget that. You didn’t hurt me—”
“I scared the hell out of you,” he exclaimed.
She hesitated, wanting to deny it, get the focus off herself. “Okay, you did, but—”
Regret carved his features and she added quickly, “But I was fine. You were the one who didn’t seem able to escape the pain.”
“Yeah, that was over Michelle,” he muttered derisively. “Hard to imagine now.”
“Why?” She barely breathed, hoping to finally learn more about the pain that had nearly him to kiss her that night. “You were married to her.”
“Yes, but—” He pivoted away, shoving a hand through his hair. He paced to the windows overlooking the backyard, the sound of his boots muffled by the carpet. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
“I do.” You have no idea how much. “I don’t know what happened between you two and I’d like to. But only if you want to tell me.”
Hazed in deep pockets of shadow, he looked over his shoulder at her. She could see the gleam of his eyes, the vague outline of his jaw. Turning to stare out the window, he told her in a resonant, distant tone how they’d worked their way together through medical school. How, after they’d begun practicing, Michelle had become involved with one of their friends, another doctor and run away with him.
Jenna had guessed this much from helping him that night in the barn, yet she sensed he held something back.
Moving away from the window, he strode back to the love seat and sat down on the end closest to where she stood. He leaned forward, his voice contemplative, his wrists resting on his widespread knees. “She ripped out my heart. My soul, too. I haven’t cared about anybody since then.
Jenna eased down to the floor at his knee. Her bruises barely hurt now and she crossed her legs to sit Indian style. “Is that why you chose to do emergency room medicine rather than have your own clinic?”
His gaze sliced to her. “What do you mean?”
“This way you don’t have to develop relationships with anyone or get close to them or have them become dependent on you.”
His lips twisted. “You sound like a shrink.”
“Still, you took me in,” she reflected softly. “I’ve become dependent on you. Too much so. You knew that would happen, yet you did it anyway. Why?”
“You know why.” His voice hardened and he stared straight ahead.
“Yes, because you wanted to repay me, but there’s still something inside you that cares very much about people in need, Linc.”
“Trust me,” he said with a snort. “There’s not.”
“Of course there is—”
“You’re one to point fingers about separating from people,” he said impatiently. “You prefer to work with animals. I don’t think your view of humans is much better than mine.”
At his frank reminder of the rape, pain snatched her breath, but she knew he hadn’t brought it up to be cruel. “Right now, I can’t disagree with you.”
The grim reference to Ramsey hung between them. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t outrun reality. “What if he starts doing things to you? That will be my fault.”
“He’s not going to,” Linc said firmly.
She almost believed him, but she knew better. “You think he only wants me, but he wants to ruin my life and you’re part of that.”
“I want to be.”
“No!” Agitated, she pushed to her feet. Her voice rose sharp and thin. “Linc, please don’t start again.”
“I’m already a part, Jenna.” He stood, too, moving in front of her. “If Ramsey knows it, believes it, why can’t you?”
“You just want sex,” she cried out, frustrated.
He laughed, a full deep sound she’d never heard and it riveted her to the floor. She stared at him, totally mesmerized by the sight of joy on his face.
“I do want sex,” he admitted ruefully, still grinning. “But you make me want so much more than that, Jenna. You are so much more than that.”
She was aroused and humbled by his words, but it was dangerous to believe them. “I couldn’t bear to think I had caused Ramsey to come after you.”
“Let’s get something straight, Jenna.” His smile faded. “You don’t cause him to do anything. You know that. You’re just apprehensive, understandably so, but what Ramsey does is not your call.”
“No, but he calls every shot of my life,” she said bitterly. “He’s taken control and it’s sliding right by me.”
“I know it feels that way because you’re cooped up here with me and the way things are right now, you have to let other people handle things for you. That’s hard.”
She cocked her head. “How do you understand so much?”
“I remember how it felt when Michelle decided to leave me, turn my life upside down. I had no say over that.” He added harshly, “Or anything else she decided to do.”
Jenna nodded. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
He shifted closer to her, his hard thigh brushing hers and set
ting off that butterfly spark of heat in her belly.
“I know you want to do something, but Mace is right. We should let him handle this.” His breath misted her cheek. “We can stay put, right here until they find him.”
“If they find him.” She swallowed, having trouble concentrating.
“They will.” Belief, promise, determination gleamed in his eyes, making her want to believe.
She checked the urge to caress his face, to run her fingers along the strength of his jaw. “I couldn’t bear to disappoint you the way Michelle did.”
He stiffened. “Never, ever compare yourself to her.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You could never hurt anyone the way she is capable.”
“It’s very possible you will get hurt because of me, Linc,” Jenna reminded him sadly.
“It’s not the same thing.”
“I’m not saying I could hurt you in the same way she did. Of course, you don’t feel for me what you felt for her—”
“You’re right!” He shifted, his chest brushing her breasts, his eyes bright with conviction, his fists clenched. “You could never hurt anyone that way! You’re too caring, too compassionate, too courageous to do any of the things Michelle did.”
What had his ex-wife done to produce such bitterness? “Was there no chance of reconciliation between you two?”
“No! No.” Linc rubbed his face, then dropped his hands, stepping back. “Especially after she took my—”
He broke off, agony ravaging his features. He looked so tortured, so utterly vulnerable that Jenna’s heart clenched tightly and she automatically reached for his hand.
“After she took your what?” She held her breath, dazed by the anguish she’d seen, the revelation that there were even more layers to this man than she’d suspected in her innocent query to know more about him.
He stared blankly at the floor, then shook himself as if he could dislodge the pain, shake it off like a mist of rain.
A hard, tight knot formed under her ribs. Her hand tightened on his. “Linc?”
“She killed my baby, Jenna.” He lifted his head, his tortured eyes boring into hers.
Jenna’s heart stopped; air jammed painfully in her lungs. She couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. “She... what?”
