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

by Helen Conrad

  On one level, she despised him.

  On another ... it didn’t bear thinking of. She shivered.

  “Cold?” He drew back so he could look at her, and when he caught sight of the turmoil in her eyes, he frowned. She wasn’t cold. She was upset. She wanted to be on firm ground, but she felt as if she were walking on quicksand.

  He hesitated, watching her dark hair float about her shoulders in the morning breeze. Honesty radiated from her fresh face. Good intentions fairly dripped from her fingertips. Why not tell her the truth? Why not get it all out? If he got it off his chest, maybe she’d even be willing to go along with him. After all, what he was doing was for a good cause. He was playing a trick on Mavis, but only because he suspected her of a much larger trick.

  Of all the women he’d met lately, Janet had a look of honesty about her. He wanted her on his side.

  Reaching out, he touched her chin with his forefinger. “Vanessa, my dear,” he said lightly, “I’m going to tell you the truth.”

  She turned on him, furious, all the turbulence of her situation suddenly clear to her again. Blinded by her fears, she didn’t even hear the promise in his words.

  “My name is not Vanessa,” she snapped, backing away from him again. “Remember that, and when we’re alone, don’t call me by that name.”

  She pulled her disheveled clothing together, watching him all the time as though she didn’t trust him not to pounce when her guard was down.

  “I’m not Vanessa. I’m not usually a liar and a cheat, and I don’t like the position you’ve put me in.” She backed away from him. “All I ever wanted was my cat back, and I’m warning you. When I get a chance to get my hands on Alexander, I’ll be gone in a flash. And you’ll be left with the job of explaining to Mavis why I—and her King Tut—have flown the coop.”

  She turned and began a resolute march toward the house. She was staying just until the night, she told herself grimly. Tonight she would have another chance to wander around and look for Alexander. And then, she would be gone.

  Matt gazed after her, his eyes narrowing, his mouth a thin harsh line. He’d almost done a stupid thing. He’d almost revealed himself to a woman. A woman he was crazily attracted to. The worst kind. You couldn’t trust them. Cecile had taught him that much, at least. Once they found your vulnerabilities, they turned on you every time. That was why he’d had nothing but short, superficial affairs for years now. He knew the score. He’d do best to keep his own counsel. Good thing she’d given him a reality check.

  Janet had never been so completely aware of noises before. For the next few hours, she spent most of her time listening. She noticed more variety of bird songs than she’d ever known existed. But that wasn’t what she was listening for. Her ear was tuned-—listening to pick up any sign of a cat that she couldn’t quite catch, listening for evidence of Matt’s footsteps, so she could avoid him.

  She did a pretty good job of that. Wandering through the house, she managed to find rooms where he wasn’t, reading a magazine for a while in the atrium among the potted plants, then slipping quickly into the library when she heard Matt talking to Gloria in the kitchen. The library was full of books on birds and she spent an hour browsing before she heard his voice again. This time she made her escape out into the garden, and by the time she came back in, Gloria informed her that Matt had gone into town.

  That gave her an opportunity to relax a little and to wonder, once again, how she’d managed to get herself into such a weird situation. If she could only find Alexander, she could put this all behind her.

  And there was another thing to think about—that crazy insane whatever-it-was that had happened in the woods. She remembered how he’d slipped his hands over her naked skin, and then pushed up her sweater to take a look, and she bit her lip and gave a silent scream of agony. How could she have let that happen?

  Pure humiliation. In a way. And something else, something she didn’t want to dwell on. She shivered and quickly tried to think of something else.

  The flavorful scent of lunch being prepared gave her an idea. She strolled into the kitchen and found Gloria putting the finishing touches to an attractively arranged tray holding wheat germ toast and clear broth along with a small vase stuffed with daisies.

  “Gloria,” Janet said, smiling at the good-natured cook. “Why don’t you let me take Mavis’s tray up to her?”

  Gloria looked startled. “Oh, I’m not sure that would be such a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Janet just kept smiling, taking hold of the handles at the ends of the tray before Gloria could do anything about it and starting toward the door. “I’m going upstairs anyway.”

  Gloria watched in stunned silence as Janet negotiated her way to the stairway. The climb seemed to stretch high above her. Her heart was beating faster. If she could just get a glimpse inside that room . . .

  She reached the landing and stopped, getting her bearings. For just a moment she thought she heard voices, but then realized it was a television, turned on low. She walked softly to the door, braced the tray to free one hand, and knocked.

  “Yes?” Mavis’s voice sounded muffled.

  “Lunch,” Janet called, sticking to one word, hoping the older woman wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t Gloria.

  There was silence. She listened intently. “Just leave it on the hall table by the door,” Mavis called at last. “I’m busy right now.”

  Disappointment swelled inside her, but she placed the tray on the little antique table and made a noisy production of starting down the stairs. She stopped when her eyes were level with the bottom of the doorway, determined to wait until that door opened.

  The minutes dragged by. After two of them, she leaned back against the bannister, her breath coming more regularly. Another minute went by. Then another. There wasn’t the slightest hint of movement from Mavis.

  Janet glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes. Wasn’t the woman ever going to come out to fetch her meal?

  “Hello there.”

  Matt’s voice, coming from behind and below, made her jump skyhigh.

  “What are you doing lurking here on the stairs?” he asked, wryly noting her guilty expression. “You wouldn’t by any chance be hoping to grab some big old Siamese cat, would you now?”

  “Keep your voice down,” she hissed, throwing one last disgusted glance at the tray cooling on the table before she walked lightly down the stairs to the first floor where Matt waited. “I just wanted to get a glimpse of him.”

  “Hey, I don’t blame you. We all do what we have to do.”

  She glared at him, hating to be put in the same opportunistic category as he was, wanting to remain firm in her antagonism. But seeing the shimmering light in his eyes, what had happened in the redwoods flooded back, and she felt herself blushing, despite all her good intentions.

  The afternoon was shaping up to be a hot one and he’d changed into shorts that revealed superbly developed legs and a short sleeved, aqua-colored T-shirt that clung to the hard, rounded muscles of his chest and arms. All in all, it was a sight that could have taken her breath away, if she’d let it. One quick glance and she turned toward the living-room stairs on the other side of the room.

  “I’ve . . . I’ve got to . . .” She was mumbling, not coming up with any legitimate excuse to make a getaway, and it didn’t work.

  “Just a minute.” His voice was soft but commanding. She stopped, her back to him, and waited. “I want to talk to you.”

  She didn’t turn. “Go ahead,” she said stubbornly.

  “Hey.” She could hear that he’d come right up behind her at the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you!” But she couldn’t force herself to turn around and meet his challenge.

  His hands settled on her shoulders and she tried to shrink away from them, but his fingers held her. “Then what are you afraid of?”

  She closed her eyes and gathered strength. “Leave me alone,” she
whispered.

  She felt him stiffen, his hands tightening convulsively, and then he spun her around to face him.

  “Damn it, Janet,” he said harshly. “I’m not a monster! I’m not going to hurt you in any way. Look me in the face.”

  She managed to do just that, but it wasn’t easy.

  “You’re the one who’s so hot on telling the truth,” he said, his eyes dark as obsidian. “Let’s go for a little here, shall we?”

  She swallowed, not sure what he was talking about but wishing desperately he would stop.

  “You know I’m strongly attracted to you.” His hand reached out and touched her cheek, then dropped again as she pushed it away. “The attraction,” he said with bite, “is sexual. I want to sleep with you. And every time I see you, or touch you, I want you more.” His hand went to her cheek again, and this time she was too paralyzed to do anything about it. His image swam before her eyes.

  She’d never heard anyone come right out and say things like this before and she had no idea how to deal with what he was telling her.

  “Right now,” he went on, “you don’t want that. You’ve made that clear. And I’m a big boy, honey. I can take rejection. I’ve had it before.”

  Rejection. Funny how it didn’t seem that way to her. She wasn’t rejecting him; she was merely protecting herself. Couldn’t he see that?

  “But let’s not hide from the truth you claim you love so much,” he said. “And let’s both admit that when you say you don’t want me, it’s this that’s talking.” His fingers pressed against her temple. “Not this.” His hand slid down and he stroked his knuckles at the upper swell of her left breast, just near enough to indicate her heart. “Okay?”

  Janet could barely stand. She had an overwhelming urge to grab his hand and pull it back, to pull it hard against her breast and hold it there. Her lips parted but no words came out. Her body ached and she wasn’t sure why. But she knew, if he touched her again, if he pulled her into his arms right now, she had no defenses left. Could he feel it? Did he sense her weakness?

  Apparently not. Or, if he could, he decided to ignore the signs. As she wavered before him, still stunned and grasping at finding her way back to the normalcy she cherished, he turned away, leaning against the bannister, and went on as though they’d merely been chatting about the weather.

  “All right, I do have something else I want to discuss with you,” he said crisply. “You have informed anyone who might be interested that you will be away for a few days, haven’t you?”

  He looked up to find her blinking rapidly, using all her resources to pull herself back together. What he’d said had shattered her composure, made her so unsure.

  “Of course,” she said shakily, turning, at a loss for a moment, then pacing toward the stained-glass window that overlooked the path to the road and leaning against the windowsill with both hands, her mind seething with the things he’d said.

  “There’s one other little detail.”

  She swallowed. Was he right? Did she really want him in that sensual, sexual way? She quivered inside.

  “What’s that?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Your car. You don’t really want to leave it out on the highway, do you?”

  Car? It took her a moment to clear her mind. Oh. Yes, she did have a car, didn’t she? But how did he find out?

  “How do you know I have a car?”

  “I saw the white Mustang parked near here. I assume that’s where you left it last night.”

  She turned and faced him at last. It was her car.

  He held out his hand. “Let me have the keys. I’ll move it into the driveway.”

  How could she trust him?

  “Why bother?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Because I don’t want curious friends of yours to spot it and wander around looking for you. They might get excited if they find your car abandoned on the side of the road.”

  “Oh.” He had a point. Reluctantly she reached into her pocket and took out her keys. “There’s one other thing,” she said, not handing them to him just yet. “A little matter that I think you should take care of.”

  “Oh?”

  Her fingers curled around the key ring. “What are you going to do about this actress who’s stuck in Polar City?”

  He looked surprised. “Who? Vanessa number two?” He shrugged. “Not a thing. I hired her for a job and she didn’t show up for it. I guess I’ll forfeit the advance I gave her. But other than that, she’s on her own.”

  “Just like that?”

  He seemed puzzled that she should question his decision. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Go down to Polar City and bail her out, of course.”

  He stared at her, bemused. “Why should I do that?” he asked slowly. “I don’t need her anymore. I’ve got you.”

  That confirmed what she was already thinking. Matt Jessup was cruel, manipulative, and arrogant. He used the truth to further his own ends, and lied whenever it suited his purpose. She’d be a fool to get involved with a man like that.

  As they stood there, silently eyeing one another, there was the sound of a door opening on the floor above them. Mavis was taking in her tray. Janet’s eyes widened, but the door slammed shut again before she had a chance to do anything about it. She looked at Matt. His eyes were laughing at her.

  He followed her up the stairs and when they got to the second-floor landing, she turned to the door that led to the deck. Once outside, she turned to him, leaning back against the railing.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the keys roughly. “You will bring the car here, won’t you?”

  “What do you think, that I’m going to take off for Alaska?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “It’s an idea, isn’t it?” he said softly. “How about if the two of us go?” His hand reached out, fingers tangling with her beautiful thick hair.

  She pulled away and turned, looking out over the spectacular view. Destiny Bay spread out below like a pastel painting, all the pastel houses, all the sailboats on the water. The little house she lived in was below. She tried to figure out just where it was and failed.

  “Where did you get your thick hair, Janet?” he asked her, leaning on the rail beside her and looking at her.

  Despite everything, that made her smile. “I got my hair from my Hispanic father,” she said, remembering him with sad affection. “And my green eyes from my Danish mother.”

  He nodded. “A typical American.”

  She had to smile at that. “Yes.” She looked up at him. “How about you? What is your family really like?”

  He turned to look out at the view. He knew exactly where his family’s house was from here. The large, imposing Carrington mansion dominated the wealthy area called La Bahia down near the marina. The last time he’d been there, his father had been facing a prison term, his mother had been in tears, and he and his brothers had said some ugly things to each other. The wounds of that fight had never healed. Maybe they never would.

  It hadn’t really bothered him for a long time. But now that he was here, so close…. Shouldn’t he at least go by and find out how things were going? For all he knew, his mother would slam the door in his face. And he probably deserved it. But he had to find out.

  He pulled his mind back to the present and the woman beside him. She’d asked him a question but there was no way he could answer it. Not now. Instead, he touched her hair again and smiled.

  “Just you and me. We could get in that car and head north and never look back.”

  His touch was electric, even in her hair. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to make love with him. She wanted to go somewhere far from him and try to straighten out all these conflicting emotions, once and for all. Ducking her head, she tried to pass him, planning to leave the deck and head for the bedroom they’d shared the night before, but he moved just enough to block her way.

  “What do you think?” he said, dropping a kiss on her lips befor
e she could stop him. “Wanna go?”

  “Be serious,” she said, pushing her way past him and walking quickly along the long circular hallway to the bedroom door.

  “I almost am,” he muttered under his breath, watching her go.

  She shook her head, blocking him out. “May I have some time alone in here?” she called back from the doorway.

  “If you must.”

  “I must.”

  She closed the door, then leaned against it, taking a deep, deep breath. Her heart was pounding. This was awful. She had to get hold of herself. Every time she came near the man she went to pieces. And he could tell. That was why he’d said those things to her, about her mind ruling her heart.

  Well, her mind had always ruled her heart, and it always would if she had any say in the matter. That was the way she was.

  Another shiver shook her. The man was so infuriating! She felt as though she’d been caught in some netherworld where crazy things were happening and she had no control. Pushing away from the door, she flung herself down onto the chair in front of the dressing table and grimaced at her own reflection in the mirror.

  Matt was sexy. And scary. And intoxicating. The men she was used to—Baxter and Howie, for instance —were none of those things.

  And here she was, good old Janet Cardona, girl Friday, girl next door, Girl Scout, girl everything . . . She stared at herself in the glass. Girl. She was twenty-five years old, and Matt didn’t see her as a girl.

  “He sees the woman in me,” she whispered aloud. She smoothed back her hair from her face and studied it.

  It was a startling revelation. There was a woman there. How had she missed it? How had this happened without her realizing it? Too many years living in her father’s shadow? Too much time absorbed in her work, with only Baxter and Howie around?

  Still examining herself in the mirror, she touched her face. The cheekbones were higher than she remembered, the cheeks less full, less rounded. Her neck seemed as long as a swan’s. Looking down, she touched her breast where Matt had touched it, remembering the sensation. Once again her stomach fell away, and she gasped.