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The Rescue Of Jenna West

Page 17

by Debra Cowan


  Resentment and apprehension crowded through her, but those feelings weren’t directed toward Linc. She’d wanted that kiss, still did and he’d stopped when she’d asked.

  Linc was responsible only for the gnawing ache in her belly, the denied hunger that shadowed her every thought, but he wasn’t to blame for the anxiety. That was due to Ramsey. He was getting to her, just like he wanted.

  Linc was her sole support, the one person from whom she hadn’t been cut off. If she surrendered to the craving of her body and slept with him, it would be a total disaster. And he would withdraw from her. Maybe out of embarrassment, maybe out of shame or even anger. It didn’t matter.

  What mattered was that he would be emotionally distant. If she lost Linc’s support, she would unravel. And Ramsey would win.

  Linc hated seeing that hope flare in Jenna’s eyes when she’d thought he was going to tell her that Mace had some news about Ramsey. But she’d quickly masked her disappointment.

  His body burned to possess her, to sink into her, but he’d promised to wait.

  They both needed some distance. At least he did. Needed some place away from her to sort out his jumbled emotions of arousal and hope. Of arousal and concern. Arousal and caution.

  So he’d left for the hospital. Walking through the double doors, Linc expected to feel the familiar rush of adrenaline, the urgency that had always coiled within him.

  Instead, he felt...disoriented, as if he’d stepped into a world that was foreign, unfamiliar. As people streamed around him, his gaze scanned over the churning mass of waiting patients, orderlies, nurses and doctors scurrying through the emergency room.

  What he knew as organized motion, choreographed to the split second, now looked like chaos and madness. He’d been gone too long, he decided, waving at Bridget Farrell as he walked past the nurses’ station and headed for the doctors’ lounge. He’d catch up on some charts, dictate some reports. That should take his mind off Jenna.

  But half an hour later, he sat at a sturdy wooden desk, hunched over a chart reliving that kiss last night, still hearing her hopeless words. Instead of focusing on the medical report in front of him detailing a follow-up visit on an emergency tracheotomy he’d performed, he wondered what she was doing. Wondered if he should call her and check in.

  He tossed the pen onto the slick wood and leaned back in the chair, shoving a hand through his hair. Why couldn’t he stop thinking of her? Yes, he wanted her, more desperately than he could ever remember wanting any other woman, but his interest in her went deeper than physical, despite all his attempts to keep her at a distance. Despite all her attempts to keep him at arm’s length.

  He wanted to protect her, encourage her, convince her to accept herself as the woman he saw—sexy, courageous, responsive . The heat, the eagerness with which she’d returned his kiss last night encouraged him to believe he would be able to change her views, but it would take time. Time he was now willing to spend.

  Even though Linc knew Jenna was nothing like Michelle, he still didn’t know if he was capable of giving her what she needed. But he wanted to try. For the first time since his wife had destroyed his world, Linc wanted to take a chance.

  And it scared him to death.

  Shoving away the thoughts, he picked up the phone on the corner of the desk and pulled a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket. He didn’t want to call Steve Majors, but he’d promised, so he dialed the number.

  The vet picked it up on the third ring. “Yeah, Dr. Majors.”

  “Steve, it’s Linc Garrett.”

  The other man’s voice immediately deepened with concern.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s fine, but—”

  “What is it?”

  “She saw Ramsey a few days ago.”

  “What!”

  Quickly Linc explained about the cemetery, then the clinic.

  Rage vibrated in her friend’s voice. “Why are you just now calling?”

  “This is really the first chance I’ve had. We got home from the clinic rather late.” He wasn’t even annoyed at Majors’s demanding questions. He knew exactly how helpless and furious Jenna’s friend felt about Ramsey’s machinations. “We stopped by the police station so she could give a statement.”

  “How is she? Really.”

  “She’s fine now. I was a little worried about her last night.” Strangely Linc found it comforting to talk to someone who cared about her as much as he did.

  “Where is she now?”

  “She’s at the house.”

  “I’m going out there.”

  “It’s not necessary.” Linc’s protest stemmed, strangely enough, from the sense that Jenna needed some time to herself, friend or no friend.

  Finally he managed to convince Majors that Jenna was indeed fine and, only after Linc promised to have her call, did the veterinarian calm down.

  After hanging up, Linc tried again to concentrate on his charts, but restless energy pumped through him. Instead of seeing the procedure detailed in front of him, he saw Jenna’s eyes, dusky with passion. As he scribbled his name on the bottom of a chart, he recalled the feel of her sweet, hot mouth.

  He felt as if something inside him had been knocked loose and was only now sliding back into place. Was it only due to telling her about the baby?

  Maybe he should keep his distance, wait for her to make a move, but it seemed every time he was with her, his good intentions dissolved like ashes in the rain.

  All the things he’d said were true. He wanted her, wanted to be the man who changed her view of herself, but was he the right man? He was only now unchaining himself from the innate distrust spawned by his ex-wife, the wariness that had taken root in him after he’d learned about the baby.

  Michelle’s betrayal had radiated like a black, toxic cloud through his soul, strangling everything in him that cared about or gave to another person. The resulting wound had hardened into a shell that curbed any softer feelings, any sign of vulnerability, but Jenna had somehow managed to penetrate that wall of scars and betrayed trust and resentment.

  Before he’d brought her home with him, his soul had been empty and hollow and charred. Now warmth flickered there, a glow he couldn’t explain and that he’d thought never to feel again. A vitality, a stirring belief that he could make a difference in her life, that they could change each other’s lives.

  She even made him want to consider private practice. Somehow opening up to her made him feel capable, once again, of giving to a patient, of really connecting, not just treating them.

  Linc hadn’t felt so empowered since medical school and though it was in a slightly different vein, the sense was just as affecting, just as profound.

  He wanted a chance with her for a future. He couldn’t allow her to just walk out of his life when this was over.

  He’d hoped that she felt the same, but he was starting to believe her when she told him things would never be any different between them.

  No amount of persuasion or seduction on Linc’s part could make her feel what she didn’t feel, believe what she thought was impossible. And with every part of him, he hated that fact.

  Nervous and edgy, she sat in the chair on the porch for what could’ve been hours. She was alone, truly alone for the first time since the attack. At first, it felt treacherous, as if she’d stepped onto shifting rock. Then the silence wrapped around her. The tension and anxiety that had gripped her like a vise slowly eased.

  She wanted to go outside like a normal person, but ingrained caution held her back.

  Restlessness and defiance charged through her. She opened the door and stepped outside, her bare feet sinking into thick green grass. The dogs raced past her, stretching their lean muscles as they loped toward the border of trees.

  Glorious freedom beckoned to her. Birds warbled in the trees, spiraled overhead in a glass blue sky. She could hear the uneven cheep of crickets. The dogs crisscrossed through the expansive backyard, stopping here and there to sniff the
grass or lift their heads to the wind.

  She tilted her face to the warmth of the sun. She wanted to shed every inhibition, run through the grass, get lost in the woods, but she wouldn’t be so rash. She walked into the yard and stopped on a small downward slope several feet away from a wrought iron bench that sat beneath a leafy redbud tree.

  Seized by a fierce impulse, she lay down on the ground, shading her eyes with her good arm and resting her cast on her stomach. Grass prickled her shoulder blades through the fabric of Linc’s shirt. The scent of fresh grass rose around her, mixed with the lemon of her shampoo and the dark spice that was Linc. She could still taste the heat of his mouth last night, the dark wine of his hunger that unleashed the same in her.

  She closed her eyes, holding the memory close, wanting to savor it without trepidation, without the niggle of fear that always attached itself. The sun’s warmth soaked into her. Clean, fresh air brushed her face.

  The dogs bounded up, their paws rustling through the grass.

  They rooted noisily around in the grass next to her, then the three of them chose a spot and stretched out beside her.

  Puppy laid his head carefully on her belly and she opened her eyes to find his dark ones on her, steady and calm, as if to say, See, I’m here. I never left.

  She lay there for several long minutes, relishing the warmth, the open space, the scents of bruised grass and fallow earth, the odor of dirt and dog. Slowly, her nerves settled. Things shifted back into perspective. She could do this. She could hang in there until the police caught Ramsey.

  And what about Linc? a little voice whispered. Jenna tried to dodge the thought. She’d already told Linc how things were. She couldn’t force him to believe it. And when this was over, he would have his life back. She would have hers.

  After being with him, her old life seemed dull and tedious. But it wasn’t, she told herself. It wasn’t.

  Her body now craved more of the passion he’d shown her, ached to try physical intimacy with him. But her head—and her heart—knew things couldn’t be any different for her.

  It wasn’t just the rape. She could probably get past that physical trauma. But even before the rape, she hadn’t been that comfortable with intimacy. Her first attempt at sex had been awkward and painful. She’d attributed it to her inexperience and that of her college boyfriend. But even with Steve, who’d been gentle and wonderful and giving, she’d failed. She couldn’t bear to fail with Linc.

  She squeezed her eyes tight against a burn of tears. She couldn’t risk intimacy with him. She couldn’t. Because she wasn’t brave enough to risk failing. Or losing the piece of himself he’d given her.

  She was grateful to him for giving them this time apart. She’d needed some space to right her world, to decipher what was real and what wasn’t.

  Ramsey was real. Being with Linc was just a temporary dream, a visit to her imagination where anything was possible.

  She rose and walked back to the house. The dogs stretched, then padded along behind her. She moved through the enclosed porch and stepped into the living room, blinking to adjust to the dimmer light.

  A flash of movement from the kitchen caught her eye and she froze, staring hard at the doorway. She heard a noise.

  Linc? She opened her mouth to call out and suddenly the dogs, entering the house, went wild. They bolted across the living area and into the kitchen, barking shrilly, frantically, without pause. The sound swelled through the house, piercing, deafening and Jenna winced as it bounced around the room.

  Just as the dogs reached the doorway, a man appeared there. Ramsey!

  Even though she couldn’t see the man’s features, it was her first thought.

  Her blood froze even as the dogs leapt into the air. The man cried out, put up an arm to defend himself and the dogs tackled him like an opposing lineman. He fell to the floor in a head-cracking thud.

  Chapter 11

  Immobilized, Jenna stared, her stunned mind moving sluggishly. The gun. The gun. What had Linc said about the gun?

  The dogs barked ceaselessly, viciously. The man’s shouts tangled with the shrill noise until she couldn’t tell human from animal.

  Finally, the muscles in her legs unlocked and she raced for Linc’s bedroom, holding her cast against her ribs. She yanked open the top right bureau drawer with her left hand and reached for the gun.

  Her trembling hand closed over the sleek metal grip and she pulled out the short-barreled weapon. She checked the safety, saw it was on even as she wheeled back out of the room. The dogs’ barking grew more frenetic. Now, she couldn’t hear the man at all.

  As she neared the kitchen, she saw him still on the floor.

  It wasn’t Ramsey. At the sight of the lean, lankier body build, relief shuddered through her, though she didn’t know the man. Long legs were wrapped in faded denim, one outstretched, the other bent at the knee with his foot braced against the floor. He spoke softly, soothingly to the dogs.

  She moved around him and into the kitchen, leveling the gun at him as she reached for the phone. Her hand shook and the gun wobbled as she aimed at his chest.

  “Dr. West?”

  At the sound of her name, fresh panic sliced through her.

  How did he know her name? Had Ramsey sent him? Fighting off the hysteria that reached for her, she stared through the sight at him, registering dully his dark, thick hair and a few days’ growth of beard.

  “Dr. West. Please.”

  She then became aware that Puppy was the only one still growling. The shepherds lay on either side of the man, licking his face ecstatically and wagging their tails. Puppy had planted both huge front paws on the man’s torso, snarling viciously every time the guy so much as breathed.

  Operating on pure adrenaline, Jenna struggled to register the scene in front of her. She knew the man wasn’t Ramsey, but who was he?

  Still holding the phone, she inched forward for a better look, keeping the gun trained on him.

  He stared up at her, blue eyes wary and grim, looking unexpectedly familiar.

  “Ohmygosh.” Her breath whooshed out and she slammed down the phone. “Back, Puppy!”

  Immediately the massive animal stepped away and sat back on his haunches, still baring his teeth.

  Swamped by anger and a knee-wobbling relief, Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Linc’s other brother, aren’t you?”

  “Almost the late Garrett brother, it appears,” the man drawled. With a wary eye on Puppy, he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, resting one wrist over his bent knee. “And you’re Dr. West.”

  She nodded. It wasn’t Ramsey. Only Sam Garrett. The glint of a police badge clipped to his waist did little to ease the tension lashing her shoulders. Or to diminish her earlier panic and surprise. “You should’ve called out or something,” she snapped. “I was ready to shoot you.”

  “I did call out,” he said evenly, his eyes darkening to indigo. “Got no answer. I had begun to think you’d left with Linc.”

  She hadn’t heard because she’d been in the backyard. If he had been Ramsey, she would be at his mercy now. Her hand shook and nausea rolled through her. “Oh.”

  He nodded warily toward the gun. “Why don’t you put that down now?”

  “Oh. Yes.” Aware that she still held the gun on him, she quickly placed it on the kitchen counter. Her heart still pounded wildly and cold sweat slicked her palms. “You startled me. I don’t like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” Keeping his hands in front of him, he rose slowly, letting her see his every move. “I guess I should’ve phoned.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  He straightened to his full height, just a shade taller than Linc and peered closely at her. Where Linc’s eyes were that beautiful smoke gray, Sam’s were blue. As deep blue as cobalt and narrowed on her like steel as he took her measure.

  Then a beautiful smile spread across his unshaven features, showcasing strength and a sultry sensuality that was apparent even to her. His eyes cr
inkled at the corners as he extended a large hand toward her. “Let’s do this properly, Dr. West. I’m Sam Garrett. You should leave my brother and run away with me.”

  Jenna blinked.

  “That is never gonna happen.” Linc’s voice boomed from the garage door opposite the breakfast nook, startling both Jenna and Sam.

  Sam grinned and she turned, her heartbeat stuttering as she took in Linc’s wind-ruffled hair and the heated concern in his eyes.

  Though she hadn’t been frightened since recognizing Sam, only now did she feel secure.

  “I see you two have met.” Linc closed the door and stepped into the kitchen.

  “Most memorably,” Sam muttered, glancing at the gun before returning his warm gaze to Jenna.

  Linc’s gaze lit on the gun, then slid to Jenna. He raised an eyebrow.

  She shrugged, tamping down her irritation. She had been ready to shoot Sam and he was acting as if they’d met at a party! “I didn’t know he was coming.”

  “I didn’t, either.” With loose-hipped grace, Linc strode over to the center island and stopped beside his brother.

  Sam dragged his attention from Jenna, half turning toward Linc. The butt end of a gun protruded from the back waistband of his jeans. “Mace said you had to go to the hospital and he was concerned about Jenna being alone. I wasn’t busy, so I told him I’d come out.”

  “Glad you did.” Linc clapped his brother on the back, then walked around him to stand next to Jenna. “You okay?”

  “Yes, now.” She wasn’t quite ready to forgive the youngest Garrett for scaring her out of her skin.

  “I really am sorry for startling you like that.”

  She nodded, still regarding him warily. “It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re a friend.”

  Linc nodded and clasped his brother’s hand. “Keep your charm to yourself. She’s not interested.”

  “Says you.” Sam grinned cockily, revealing dimples deeper than Mace’s and Linc’s. “Why does my serious, stuffy older brother get all the good-looking women? It’s the medical degree, right?”

 

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