The Dragon's Revenge

by Courtney Henke

  That much was true, she thought, but wouldn't allow her face to soften. "Yes, J.D."

  "I love you."

  "Yes. J.D."

  "And you love me!"

  Her breath caught In her throat. 'Yes, J.D."

  "You're Just too stub—" He blinked. "What did you say?"

  "I said. 'Yes, J.D.' " Her eyes filled with moisture, and her voice lowered huskily. "I said I love you."

  "You love me," he repeated blankly, then his face lit up like a sunrise. "And you're going to marry me."

  She took a deep, steadying breath. "No, J.D."

  J.D.'s face fell for a moment, then a rueful grin spread across his mouth. "I knew it was too good to be true."

  "I love you," she repeated firmly.

  "I love you too." He smiled and kissed her softly. "To be honest. I wasn't sure that much would happen."

  She ran her hands up his chest and began to unbutton his jacket. "Never underestimate your abilities. Isn't that what you told me?"

  "Something like that." His green eyes darkened as she started in on his shirt. "If it's a matter of your job and mine, we can choose some neutral ground, like San Jose. That's about halfway between the two."

  She paused. "Let me get used to loving you first, okay?" Her unconsciously pleading gaze told him of her uncertainty better than words could. "Please?"

  He gathered her Into his arms and pulled her beside him on the bed. "This isn't how it was supposed to go," he muttered.

  "Yes, J.D." Impishly, she one-handedly continued her task.

  "I was supposed to storm your defenses."

  "Yes, J.D."

  "Well, nothing else worked. I thought you were going to put an end to us completely."

  "I know."

  His laughter held a note of triumph. "But it's just the beginning. Everything will work out now." His breathing became ragged as she ran her fingers over the hair on his chest. "You're going to spend the night here, aren't you."

  It wasn't a question, but she answered it as she feathered kisses over his ear. "Yes, J.D."

  "Will you stop that? I feel as if I've stepped into a movie about pod people, or something."

  She giggled. "Yes, J.D."

  He rolled her over and frowned at her. "Do you think I'm trying to trap or change you? I'm not, love."

  "I know."

  "You're a hellion, and I don't want anything different."

  "And you are trying to be a stereotype." She quickly reversed their positions and straddled him, unbuckling his pants. "Men," she muttered disgustedly. "They never know when to shut up."

  He grinned. "Yes, Charly."

  Neither spoke another word.

  Twelve

  Charly awoke slowly the next morning. She experienced no abrupt jerk into reality, no lingering feeling that something was amiss, just a floating, subtle awareness of everything around her. J.D.'s clean scent tickled her nostrils, mixed with the musky fragrance of their lovemaking. Her head was cushioned on firm, warm muscle instead of yielding down. Her body ached pleasantly all over.

  Her mouth curved into a smile. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled into J.D.'s body, and his arm tightened around her. Why had this frightened her so much? she wondered. How could anything that felt so good be bad for her?

  She would miss him this week while he was in San Francisco. The thought intruded into her happiness, but she didn't draw away. He had become more than a part of her life, he had become a part of her. Of course she would miss him. just as she'd miss an arm if it were gone. He was right about their dovetailing. He had become an anchor for her recklessness, and she had drawn him out of his "objective" cocoon. They brought out the best in each other. What could be wrong about that?

  There would be nothing shameful in missing him, she realized. The shame would be in her falling apart because of it. But she wouldn't. Suddenly, there was no doubt in her mind that although she would miss him, she would survive.

  Her mouth went dry. For once in her life, Charly didn't want everything to happen too fast, as he obviously did. She needed to wait, to see if she was right. She wasn't certain she could live with such a strong personality. When her life was back to normal, when he wasn't there constantly for her, she could find a little of his objectivity and decide for herself. After this week, maybe, just maybe she could make the kind of commitment he wanted. For now, she would explore these new realizations.

  His soft breathing changed, and she knew he was awake. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

  "Good morning, love." His hand stroked her naked thigh. "Want some breakfast?"

  “Yuck. Just coffee." Her fingers tangled in the hair on his chest. "Later. We have plenty of time before the party." She turned her head and flicked her tongue over his hard nipple.

  He groaned but attempted to keep his tone steady. "So, are you going to weasel out of this?"

  "You're so suspicious," she murmured. "This night counted. And I'm not going to let you forget it."

  His hand clenched convulsively. "I'm a dead man," he whispered.

  A long time later, Charly and J.D. stood on her deck, frowning at a mountain of sodas and chips. "I forgot something," she said. "I always forget something. I just can't figure out what it is."

  Aaron glanced up from his task of setting up another table. "Beer."

  She gave him a withering glare. "These are high school students, idiot. Not even for you would I risk it."

  He shrugged, grinning. "I was kidding. Loosen up."

  "Charity!" called Julia from inside the house. "Do you have a chafing dish?"

  "She must be joking," Charly murmured, and hurried inside.

  "Julia made chicken enchiladas," Aaron said as he stood. "She had a craving at three o'clock this morning for jalapenos." He brushed off his hands and eyed J.D.'s jeans and red sports shirt reflectively. "Charly wasn't here."

  "That's because she was with me." J.D. didn't flinch at Aaron's appraisal, and he was surprised when the other man's face split in a wide grin.

  "I don't know what she sees in you," Aaron admitted. "But I've never had much to say about it anyway. She's always plowed her own way, ever since she was old enough to walk. We always looked for different things out of life. If that judge hadn't sent me into the army, I'd probably be in prison. Not Charly. In spite of her big talk, Charly has always had our mother's rigid morality, and her big heart. I don't." His smile froze. "She's happier than I've ever seen her right now. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you."

  "I could say the same for you." J.D. told him without blinking. "You mean a lot to her, and you have a lot more sway than you think. You could probably interfere." He raised one brow, and his eyes hardened. "But you won't."

  Aaron stared at him a moment, then leaned back on his heels, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "No, I won't."

  "Good." J.D. turned away, picked up a bag of ice, and dumped it into the plastic trash can they had designated for the soda.

  He heard Aaron's chuckle behind him. "I don't know who I pity more," he murmured, then went into the house.

  J.D. smiled lopsidedly and finished his task.

  Hours later, as the sun reached its zenith, the house swarmed with people. The entire team. Rucker s Wolverines, filled it with noisy talk and friendly arguing. David was there, along with severed other members of the staff whom J.D. hadn't met. Charly circulated from bunch to bunch, tossing a comment here, telling a joke there. J.D. mingled, but remained detached from most of the proceedings. Pride filled him as he watched Charly flitting around like an iron butterfly. If tempers suddenly ran high, she was there, with a hand on each of the antagonists, chiding and kidding them into better humor. She was magnificent.

  She had changed into a green shirt that said simply go wolverines and her "good" jeans—the ones without the patches. J.D. missed those patches.

  He managed to comer her by the soda, long enough to run his hand over the soft fabric at her bottom. Her blue eyes darkened for a moment, promis
ing things to come, and she kissed him swiftly before disappearing into a knot of huge teenagers. They smiled and joked with him almost as easily as they did with Charly. He couldn't remember when anything had given him such a feeling of accomplishment. He had become a part of their group, and it felt good to belong.

  She smiled brightly at him as she emerged and moved to another group. He watched her go with a little catch in his throat. No fear, no regrets, shadowed her features. Aaron was right. Charly was happier than he'd ever seen her too. She was in her element. He could never take this away from her.

  But why did he have to? Why had he always thought in terms of her moving to San Francisco? The bank practically ran itself, and whatever work needed to be done he could do by modem, as he had for the last two weeks! With a few trips up a month, he could easily take care of business from here!

  "Mr. Smith?" David Bakker moved beside him and offered him a soda. "Peace offering. I think I was a little pushy the last time I saw you."

  J.D. accepted the drink. "It's J.D., and you've been studiously avoiding us ever since. That's not necessary.”

  David stroked his beard. "Maybe not. But every time I see you, all I can think of is my project." He shrugged. "I know. Egotistical."

  "Not at all. It's a worthy cause."

  David hesitated. "Do you know anyone else who might fund it?"

  "I'm not sure." With a start, J.D. realized he no longer felt the irritation that had beset him every time that project had been mentioned in the past. It really hadn't been the thing itself, but the presentation. David had an ambitious concept, but it had lacked organization. That wasn't the fault of the proposal, but of the person who had designed it.

  He had met so many of the people this man was trying to help, and he liked most of them. He thought of Hogan's mural, of Melissa's troubled love life, of the parents of some of the players he had occasionally met. They were good people. Charly's mother had been one of them, as was Charly herself. Though she lived outside the neighborhood, he knew it was her way of distancing herself, of striking a balance between what she had been and what she had become. But in the long run, she involved herself. At a grass roots level, as with her bulldozing the shacks and coaching the football team, she was the basis of everything this man stood for.

  And he realized something else. David Bakker's community consolidation plan had become important to him. Oh, sure, there were some holes in it, but nothing a little work and a few amendments couldn't fix. All of the things he had mentioned to Charly that first night, the job training program, the illiteracy battle, everything could be worked in at a very small cost, if it was done correctly. All it took was the right administrator.

  Suddenly that sounded quite appealing.

  "Mr. Bakker," J.D. said with a grin. "I think we need to talk."

  Charly scanned the deck for a sign of J.D., but he had disappeared. Frowning, she walked to the railing and searched the beach. Two figures, heads close together, strolled near the breaker line. Apprehension tickled her spine as she recognized David's massive form and J.D.'s leaner, athletic one. She remembered her night with J.D., her vehemence in defending David's project, and realized she'd nearly forgotten the whole thing. J.D. had filled her heart, her mind, her soul, to overflowing. But she wanted them to be friends, not wary opponents. If this project stood between two of the most important men in her life, she didn't know what she'd do.

  "Excuse me," came a voice from behind her. "Are you Charly?"

  She turned to a small, white-haired woman dressed in emerald silk. Two diamonds the size of her thumbnails adorned the woman's earlobes. Charly blinked, then recognized her. "Mrs. Smith!" She glanced down the beach, then back. "J.D. is—"

  "I'm not looking for my son. Actually, I wanted to see you for myself, to evaluate your suitability." Her eyes, the exact shade of J.D.'s, raked over her, one brow raised in haughty appraisal. "I don't think we were ever properly introduced." A cool smile touched her lips as she extended a limp hand. "I remember you now, of course. You're the"—her nostrils flared delicately—"football coach."

  Feeling a bubble of amusement rise in her throat, Charly took the proffered hand. "And you're the bane of J.D.'s existence," she said solemnly. "How are you?”

  "I'm quite well, thank you."

  "I'm glad to hear it. And how is the General? Unfurled any good parachutes lately?"

  "Not recently, no."

  "Oh, that's too bad. J.D. and I were just discussing skydiving the other day. I think he should take the plunge, don't you?" Charly raised both brows in polite inquiry. "Would you like a soda?"

  "Ms. Czerniowski, my son is quite besotted with you. and ... I think ..." Amanda gave up. A huge, slow smile creased her face. "I'd love a soda." Chuckling, she extended her hand again, her grip warm and strong. "Welcome to the asylum, dear."

  Exhilaration filled J.D. as he watched David return to the party. A new challenge awaited him, a new horizon beckoned. Nothing, he decided, had affected him like this since his father had died.

  Though the details still had to be ironed out. David enthusiastically approved of J.D.'s plans. In fact, he'd seemed relieved. He'd had no idea that his simple idea would become so complicated. Like Charly, David preferred the day-to-day interaction with the people. The paperwork, he explained, had daunted him.

  A wide grin creased J.D.'s face. Paperwork had never daunted him.

  A shout brought him out of his musings. Down the beach, Aaron stood with a football in his hand, surrounded by most of the team. With a wry chuckle he drew back his arm and burned one over to J.D., who caught it with ease. Aaron nodded his approval. "We're setting up a little impromptu game," he called. "We need another player!"

  J.D. glanced toward Charly's house, then arced a steady pass right into Aaron's hands.

  "Rippin’!" Hogan exclaimed. "All right! He's mine!"

  "Later," J.D. told them, feeling a warm acceptance into their group. "I have to talk to Charly first."

  Aaron waved him away and set up the teams.

  J.D. strode to the deck, whistling a silly tune. His green eyes scanned the patio as he climbed the stairs. He wanted to share his excitement with Charly, to run up behind her and give her the biggest bear hug in the world, to tell her he loved her and to hell with her fears. Everything would be perfect.

  He saw her distinctive, voluptuous backside by the hydrangeas, and his eyes narrowed in playful thought. Maybe he should pinch her instead, to pay her back for the incident on the beach. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he stalked forward.

  Charly shifted a bit, and he noticed another person. Amanda!

  He froze. What in the world could his mother want here?

  Never mind, he thought, nothing was going to ruin his surprise. He walked forward and kissed the nape of Charly's neck. She turned, startled, then her blue eyes warmed. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to. What's up? David tore through here a minute ago, asking for the phone."

  "I’ll tell you in a minute." J.D. eyed Amanda warily. "The matron armor. Mother?"

  "Hello to you, too, dear. What a wonderful party. I never realized before how . . . masculine football players were. Maybe I should dump the General and go after Roger Staubach."

  "Amanda! I'm surprised at you." Charly grinned. "He's married."

  Amanda sighed. "I suppose I should warn his wife, then." With a happy wave, she wandered off to watch the game on the beach.

  "Your mother is something," said Charly.

  J.D. frowned. "Yeah. But what?"

  "Hey, don't do that. Don't freeze up on me. I thought that poker face of yours was gone forever." She snaked her arms around him and pulled him into the bushes. "Besides, everyone else is occupied ..." Her mouth claimed his.

  Heat rose in his loins, his niggling suspicion at Amanda's presence forgotten. Charly's teeth nibbled his lips, her tongue caressed his. J.D. pressed her' to the length of his body, his palms on her bottom. She moaned and pulled him closer.

  With a groan, J.D
. broke the kiss. "Any more of this," he said in a raspy voice, "and well end up on the ground."

  She chuckled huskily. "Doing it in the dirt. I love it."

  He took a deep breath, fighting the fire in his body, his gaze locking onto hers. "I have to tell you something first."

  "We could always run upstairs," she said, ignoring his words. "I don't think anyone would miss us.”

  Smiling gently, he stroked a strand of chestnut hair away from her brow. "Your team would." She shrugged, a wicked glint in her eyes, but he held firm. "We need to talk."

  With a sigh, Charly backed away and leaned against her house. "So talk. But make it quick. There's a bed with our name on it just a few feet away."

  Crossing his arms over his chest, J.D. grinned. "You're a handful, aren't you?"

  She nodded. "So you tell me."

  "I'm not leaving Monterey," he said bluntly. "I’ve decided to stay."

  Her smile faded, just for a moment. "I thought you were going to give us a little time."

  "I am." Her response disturbed him, but he hid his reaction. She could see that this solution was perfection itself. "I’ll have to go to San Francisco for a few weeks, to clear up some business. But I’ll be down every weekend." He squared his shoulders. "I've decided to go ahead with David's community consolidation. Myself."

  "You—" Her jaw dropped. "But you said!—"

  "Charly, it's a worthy project. And I think that with the right direction, it will benefit everyone. Not just—"

  She cut off his words with an exuberant hug. "Oh, J.D." Her voice broke. "I love you."

  Startled, he held her tightly. "I love you too." Her stranglehold increased, confusing him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

  "I thought I'd have to choose," she whispered into his hair. "But you changed your mind." She kissed his ear. "You changed your mind."

  "Choose?" His head whirled. His mother's presence, Charly's words, her determination of that first night, which had conveniently disappeared, his conviction that she was a worthy opponent . . . Love is a trap, J.D.