Destiny Bay Boxed Set Vol. 1 (Books 1 - 3)

by Helen Conrad

  Reid could sense the tension growing in her, and he bent to kiss her softly behind the ear, nuzzling in his own style of comfort.

  “My poor parents. They thought it would be so easy. They would just take that little lump of human clay and form it into their ideal daughter. They didn’t realize the lump might have other ideas.”

  “That’s not unusual,” Reid said, still kissing her neck with tiny nibbling kisses. His body was hard and long against hers and his skin smooth and warm. “It happens all the time between parents and teenagers.”

  She shook her head. “There was more to it than that. I was like the ugly duckling, something strange they found in their nest one day. When they adopted me, they had certain dreams and expectations. They knew what they wanted. They wanted ...” She dropped her hand from touching him and turned her face toward the wall. “They wanted an Astrid. That’s what they wanted. Astrid. I could never be Astrid. And when I turned out to be a Jennifer instead of an Astrid, they were disillusioned. They wanted to send me back to the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm and try a new model.”

  His hand cupped her cheek, and his eyes seemed so full of understanding. And yet, at the same time, he seemed to be retreating from her in some nebulous way.

  No, she qualified that. He wasn’t retreating from her. She was building a wall between them again. It was all her doing, not his.

  “I think you’re exaggerating,” he told her softly, brushing her hair with his long fingers.

  “No.” Even her voice was cold now. “No, they made it quite clear the night I left. They told me never to come back, and they never tried to find me.” She shrugged. “They washed their hands of someone who never gave them a moment’s happiness. Can you blame them?”

  He rose above her, his eyes starry in the lamplight. “How can you say that? I don’t believe it.”

  She closed her eyes. “Don’t build your dreams on our reconciling, Reid, because you’re just asking for disappointment. They don’t love me. They never did. They only loved Tony. He was all they ever cared about.” She took a shuddering breath. “I know it devastated them to lose him.”

  “Just as it devastated you not to be able to reach them,” he murmured, touching her hair, her neck, her chin with his fingertips.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. How did he know so much?

  “I know why you play so hard, Jennifer,” he went on. “I know you’re just trying to blot out those feelings of failure. Like an alcoholic goes for a drink to help him forget, you jump out of planes.”

  “You understand that?” she whispered in awe. She’d only barely come to realize the truth of what he was saying herself. She didn’t think she’d ever really put it into words.

  “I understand.” He leaned down and filled his senses with the scent of her hair. “I wish ... I wish I could do something so you wouldn’t have to take chances, go for thrills.”

  “Just hold me.” She closed her eyes. “Just hold me.”

  She dozed and he held her. He didn’t think he would ever get enough of watching her, memorizing her beautiful face, enjoying her beautiful body. He folded the covers back so that he could see her full breasts, see every secret area that now belonged to him —at least for the moment. He wished he could believe it might be for longer. He wished he could believe he could catch and hold her without smothering her.

  She’d made love to him. She’d given him her luscious body and had taken his. But he had no illusions. She’d done it to blot out the pain, just as she always did. There were no airplanes to jump out of here, so she’d made love to him instead.

  He stared at her, then touched. He wanted her again.

  She woke up drowsily, turned to look at him, and smiled, seeing his readiness. The coldness had melted in the glow of his warmth. She arched provocatively.

  “More,” she whispered, like a cat who begged for petting. Her eyes tantalized his. “Do it again.”

  And he did, slowly this time, lovingly, lastingly.

  A knock on the door woke them in the morning.

  “Mr. Carrington, you asked for a six o’clock wake-up,” a voice called.

  He stretched, grimacing. “Thanks, Adele,” he called back.

  Jennifer forced her eyes, open and watched him. “You’re not leaving me?” she murmured.

  “I have to.” His index finger traced the line of her upper lip. “I’ve got an early breakfast meeting with a client.”

  She watched him rise, and for just a moment, she contemplated tempting him to stay. Then she discarded the notion with a smile. They’d spent the night as though they were trying to make up for all those wasted years, dozing and making love, until the two blended and merged into a vast panoply of sensual gratification and loving comfort.

  “You’re going to kill me, woman,” he’d groaned at one point, but that hadn’t stopped him from responding instantly to her whispered suggestion. He’d been as hungry for satiation as she had.

  After his shower, she watched him dress, enjoying the interplay of his muscles, the contrast of warm, golden skin to the crisp whiteness of his shirt. He caught her watching and smiled. She smiled back. The moment between them said as much as lovemaking ever could.

  Not that she was ready to give up lovemaking. She shivered with delight as she thought of how good they were together. She’d never known it could be so good —so right, so much a shared experience of love and excitement.

  She remembered the night before when she’d wondered if she was in love with him. She had her answer now. She’d been in love with him for years. She always would be.

  “You get some sleep,” he muttered, bending to kiss her. “I’ll be back.”

  She laughed softly. “Shall I wait for you here?” she asked archly.

  His hand plunged beneath the covers to find her breast. “Absolutely. We’ve got more making up to do.”

  “What will Adele think when she comes to fix up the bed?”

  His eyes glimmered, and he bent to kiss her nipple. “She’ll think I got lucky,” he teased.

  She batted at him as he retreated. “Don’t forget to come back,” she said sadly as he reached the door.

  “With you waiting for me? Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  But then he was gone, and she felt loneliness welling up inside her.

  Regardless of how they’d teased, she really didn’t want the servants to find her in Reid’s bed, so she rose quickly and pulled on her robe, then tiptoed back to her own room.

  She went to the window. The beach was blanketed in fog, and she could hardly see her parents’ house. The thick gray mist clung to everything, muffling sound, cutting off the sun. She knew the fog would burn off by noon, but for now, it covered everything.

  She took a quick shower and dressed in camel-colored twill slacks and a white turtleneck, then sat down by the window to wait. It wasn’t long before she saw what she was waiting for. The mist hid details, but a man had left her parents’ house and was walking out toward the ocean. She was sure it was her father.

  She went down the stairs slowly, avoiding the servants, slipping out the back door. The sand was cold today. She walked down the beach to the place where she’d decided to wait. And then she stood in the cold, wet air and waited.

  She wasn’t even sure she was frightened. Her pulse wasn’t hurried. Her heart wasn’t fluttering. She felt cold inside. She had very little hope that anything good was going to come of this.

  She was doing it for Reid. She knew how badly he wanted her to try. He’d just given her a night of such heavenly happiness, she knew she had to do this for him.

  A dark, shrouded figure was coming through the gray mist. He came closer, almost near enough to touch, but still he didn’t see her. She stepped directly in front of him so that he couldn’t avoid her.

  “Daddy,” she said quietly, “how are you?”

  His eyes widened with shock and then he frowned. “You!” There was no welcome in his stern, aging face. “I thought we’d see
n the last of you.”

  She knew now why she’d been so cold, so emotionless. It had been a wall, a protection for her soul. She’d tried to build it strong and permanent, to withstand just what was bombarding her now. But it was no use. The pain came slashing through all the same.

  “I thought maybe we could talk . . .”

  “What for? You didn’t want to talk before. Why now?”

  “I—I’m older now. Maybe—“

  “What? Maybe you could rip your mother’s heart out again? Is that what you want?”

  She was shivering, her teeth chattering, and she couldn’t answer.

  “We gave you everything. We took you out of the gutter, and you repaid us by bringing shame and unhappiness into the family. You turned your back on all our gifts. You spit in our face. You made your mother cry. She was so torn up about you that she spent two years in therapy trying to find out where she went wrong. But we all knew, didn’t we? It wasn’t her going wrong. It was just you. I hoped I would never have to see you again. You’re not our daughter. You never were.”

  It was so cold, and his eyes were like ice. She felt battered and bruised and she began to back away.

  “Now don’t go bothering your mother!” he shouted after her. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

  She turned and ran as fast as she could, back to Reid’s house. It only took a moment to throw her things into her case. She left the guitar behind, called a taxi, and was at the airport, ready to board for Los Angeles within the hour.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  Jumping Out of Airplanes

  Jennifer was jumping out of airplanes again. It had been a week since she’d left San Diego on the run. She hadn’t heard a word from Reid. She was up in a rickety little plane, about to jump out into the void.

  “Lookin’ good, baby,” Eddie called to her. “The second time is always better than the first.”

  “Bound to be,” she agreed, smiling brightly, waiting for fear. It hadn’t come and she missed it. She was still cold inside, as cold as she’d been that day on the beach. She wanted so badly for something to shatter the ice. Maybe this would do it.

  The order came. “Go!”

  She stepped back away from the wing and reached for the rip cord, which she was to pull on her own because this time it was a “clear and pull.” Her fingers found the cord as she fell, a comet heading toward earth. She enjoyed the sensation for a moment more, then pulled the rip cord to activate her main parachute. She pulled. And pulled again. Nothing happened.

  She didn’t really panic. A strange, white blankness came over her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and she tried to think carefully, logically, all the while the earth was rushing toward her as though she were in a jet plane aimed into the side of a mountain.

  The reserve. It was packed across her stomach. It had to work. If she could only remember how to pull it open. Her fingers fumbled, and fumbled again. They seemed numb. She couldn’t tell what she was touching.

  She felt something. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew this was taking too long. If she didn’t act fast, she wouldn’t have time to pull anything at all, and if that happened, nothing could save her. She curled her fingers around the metal handle and tugged. In a rush that sent pure joy arcing through her, the reserve parachute shot out and filled with air, jerking her to a sharp stop before letting her float gently back to earth. And when she landed, she sprang to her feet and smiled as though nothing had happened:

  “Jennifer, wow, you were fantastic! What happened up there? What did it feel like?”

  The voices jumbled around her in a blur of color and noise. She felt numb, confused.

  “I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Really, I’m okay.”

  But she was still so cold. She looked around blankly, looking for something—or someone—and not knowing exactly what that might be. But there was a huge emptiness inside her. She needed—what? She wasn’t sure, but the need was aching.

  Then she knew, because suddenly Reid was there, and his arms were coming around her and she was crying out his name and reaching for him. He held her so tightly, so very tightly, she could finally relax and let the warmth seep back into her body.

  “Oh, Reid,” she murmured, tears rimming her eyes though something held back the flow, as it always did.

  “My darling, darling girl,” he muttered hoarsely, holding her fiercely close. “I could kill you for what you just put me through!”

  It wasn’t long before it all seemed to be a bad dream, distant and not nearly as scary any longer. She told everyone how it felt, what she’d done, and the main chute was examined to see what had caused the failure.

  “A bent pin,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I don’t know how that could have happened.”

  She could feel Reid tense as though he wanted to throttle Eddie and everyone else involved, but she placed a restraining hand on his arm.

  “It’s just one of those things,” she agreed. “I’ve seen it happen before. At least the reserve worked just fine.”

  “You’re not going up again,” Reid said calmly, his face hard as granite.

  Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, man, that’s her decision,” he said sharply.

  Reid didn’t say anything, but his stare was cold and hard and Eddie looked away.

  Jennifer wasn’t going to defer to Reid out loud at this point. Maybe someday she would try skydiving again. She wouldn’t rule it out, but right now his arm around her was so comforting, she didn’t have the slightest desire to do anything that might make him move away.

  Reid was there all afternoon, holding her. She loved him there, but she dreaded what his presence meant. He wanted answers, she knew, and explanations. He could have her heart, but as for explanations—that would be more difficult.

  “Let’s go over to the field coffee shop and get something to eat,” she said at last. “I’m starved.”

  They went alone. Reid led her across the dusty field to where the coffee shop stood, right on the edge of the action, its huge glass window giving a perfect view of the parachute jumping, hang gliding, and sailplaning.

  They sat down at a table near the window, one on either side. Reid stared at Jennifer for a long, searching moment before he began to speak.

  “It took me all week to decide whether or not to come looking for you,” he said. “I couldn’t decide if you had left because you hadn’t wanted to get tied down ... or if it was something else.”

  “Oh, no”—she shook her head quickly—“it wasn’t anything like that. I wrote you a note—“

  “Your note,” he cut in sharply, “could have been left by a maiden aunt after a weekend visit. It didn’t explain anything.”

  The waitress appeared, pencil poised, and Jennifer smiled up at her in relief. She wasn’t sure how much she should tell Reid, how much he needed to know. When she tried to think about it, her thoughts disintegrated into chaos.

  She hadn’t looked at the menu, but she already knew what she wanted. “I’ll have a French dip beef with the french fries, please. Does that come with a salad?”

  “Choice of salad or fries,” said the waitress, tapping the appropriate area on the menu in front of Jennifer. “Just like it says here.”

  “Well . . .” Jennifer frowned with concentration.

  She was famished. “Let me have a salad, too. With blue cheese dressing. And a vanilla shake.”

  “Are you finished?” Reid asked dryly, and she nodded but kept scanning the menu. “I’ll just have a cup of coffee . . . black.”

  It occurred to Jennifer that the more she ate, the less time she’d have for talking. “You know what, this dessert list looks awfully good. Could you add a hot fudge sundae to my order?” She smiled at the waitress. “And that’s all for now.”

  The waitress wrote it down but shook her head in exasperation. “Honey, how do you think you’re going to keep that cute little figure if you eat like this?”

  “I’m not little,” Jennifer protested, looking
down. “I’m an active woman. I’ve got to keep my energy level up.”

  The waitress sighed and leaned in close to Jennifer’s ear. “Forget your energy level, sweetie. What you want to keep is this good-lookin’ man, and you’re not going to do that on a thousand calories a throw.” She threw an elbow against Jennifer’s shoulder, glancing back at Reid, who’d heard every word. “Now, wise up, honey, and have the cottage cheese plate.”

  Jennifer’s eyes met Reid’s across the table, and for the first time, she saw a sparkle of humor hiding there. “I’ll take my chances,” she said. “Maybe he likes chubby women.”

  The waitress left, shaking her head, and Jennifer looked at Reid. “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Like chubby women?”

  I’d like you chubby, he thought to himself, gazing at her. I’d like you round and pregnant with my baby.

  Then he blinked, stunned at his own random thoughts. Where had that desire come from? From somewhere deep inside ... or off the top of his head?

  “Big decision, huh?” she asked, playing with the saltshaker. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to get chubby too soon. You’ll have time to make up your mind.”

  He frowned and she knew he wanted to get back to the serious stuff—the very thing she wanted to avoid. She braced herself for more questions. Instead, he told her something that surprised her.

  “Your mother came to see me the other day.”

  “What?” Jennifer looked up. “I thought you said she never went out.”

  “She doesn’t. But she wanted to find out what you’d been doing.”

  Jennifer stared at him, not sure she wanted to hear this.

  “You should have told me you tried talking to your father. That would have made things a bit clearer for me.”

  She looked down at the napkin she was shredding to pieces. “You’re right, of course,” she whispered.

  “Your father let it slip, and your mom came to me to find out what really happened.”