Sentimental Journey

by Janet Dailey

  Looking back, she could see that she had failed miserably at her job the two months after she and Brodie had broken up. One morning her uncle had summoned her to his office and told her that she was to patch up whatever quarrel she'd had with Brodie. Since she had never given him the reason they had parted, she had been paralyzed by his order. When she had stared at him dumbstruck, he had changed his statement. He had told her that she had two choices—either patch things up or accept that it was over.

  It was a painful memory, but it had proved to be the best advice she had received. It drummed in her mind every time she found herself dissolving in self-pity, She still hurt, but she had learned to live with it and conceal it from others.

  "Here we are," her uncle announced.

  Jessica pulled herself out of her recollections to see their destination. God, no, her heart cried in pain. It was the Terminal Station where Brodie had taken her for lunch. Her first impulse was to ask her uncle to take her elsewhere, but common sense overruled it. She couldn't keep avoiding places simply because she had been there with Brodie.

  Hadn't she learned to walk the sidewalks and stop wondering when and if she would ever see him? Hadn't she learned not to look at the drivers of every expensive car, wondering if Brodie was in town?

  Still her legs were shaking when she climbed out of the car and walked with her uncle to the renovated railroad station and the restaurant inside. Her smile to the hostess was tense as they were led through the tables to an empty one.

  "Ralph!" a voice called to her uncle. "Hello, how are you?"

  A man rose from a table near the window to greet them. It took Jessica only a second to recognize the bushy-browed man as Cal Janson. She had arranged to be busy the rare times he had Stopped at the office on business. Mostly someone from the company went to see him.

  "Hello, Cal. How's business?" Her uncle's hand was engulfed in a vigorous handshake.

  "Fine, fine," Cal Janson replied, and turned his attention to her. "Jessica you're looking more beautiful every time I see you." He clasped her hand warmly in both of his.

  "Thank you." Inside she was praying frantically, Please God, please, don't let him mention Brodie!

  "You make me wish I were ten years younger—well, maybe twenty," he winked at her uncle when he made the correction. "I was going to suggest to Brodie that the two of you come over to dinner tonight." It took all of Jessica's control not to blanch at his statement. It meant that Brodie was in town, and she didn't want to know that. "Since you're here, I'll extend the invitation to you first. Emily and I would love to have you."

  "Thank you, but I'm afraid that isn't possible." Jessica was trying very hard to find a tactful way of telling Janson that she was no longer seeing Brodie.

  He misunderstood her gentle wording. "That's why I'm asking you first. Brodie is very much his own master. I understand very well that he wants you all to himself, but if anyone can persuade him to accept the invitation, you can."

  "But—"

  "Here he comes now. We'll both go to work on him," Cal Janson declared, casting her a conspiratorial smile before directing his attention behind her.

  Her heart stopped beating and her face drained of color as she pivoted. It was Brodie, purposefully winding his way through the tables to the windows. Tall, imposing, turning heads, he was more sternly handsome than she remembered. Devil-black hair, tanned skin stretched across cheekbones and jaw, the cruel line of his mouth, those piercing cold eyes, and that lobolike grace of movement, all struck her like a body blow; taking away her breath.

  She wasn't ready to see him again. She wasn't prepared. Why did he have to show up just when she was beginning to put her life back together? She wanted to run, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

  What was he thinking right now? What was he feeling? She searched his compelling features for a sign of reaction. There wasn't anything, just hard, cold stone. Surely he had seen her? He was looking right at her. Pain constricted her chest as Jessica realized he was looking through her.

  "Hello, Brodie," Cal Janson greeted him. "Look who I ran into—"

  "Hello, Cal." Brodie walked past her as if she weren't even there. "Sorry we're, late. We were held up on the ground in Baltimore."

  "I haven't been waiting long." Cal Janson darted a puzzled glance from Brodie to Jessica, her green eyes rounded with hurt, still staring at Brodie in disbelief. "I was just saying to Jessica that—"

  "Drew and I had a chance to go over the latest balance sheet on the flight here," Brodie interrupted again. Jessica was only dimly conscious of the second man accompanying Brodie. Shock was still quaking through her as Brodie sat down at the table Janson had been given. He was ignoring the reference to her, treating her as if she didn't exist. "I didn't like the production figures. What's the problem? Are you having labor trouble?"

  She was unaware of the frowning looks of confusion Brodie was receiving from both Drew and Cal Janson. Neither did she notice, the indignant expression on her uncle's face. Hurt, humiliation and anger were all violently swelling up inside her. She wouldn't be snubbed this way.

  Instinct and the desire to strike back directed her action. A glass of ice water was sitting on the table. Jessica picked it up and emptied it in Brodie's face. She didn't wait to see the results. Spinning away, she heard the muffled swearing and the gasps from onlookers. The only thing she wanted to do was get away from him as far and as fast as she could. Surprisingly her legs carried her swiftly over the winding path through the tables to the exit. Heads turned at the hastiness of her retreat, voices murmuring curiously.

  The end of the long tunnel of pain and humiliation didn't seem very far away until a steel hand clamped itself on her arm and pulled her away. Just as savagely, it yanked her around and Jessica found herself facing Brodie. Moisture was beaded on his features, taut with rage. His brutal grip was threatening to break the bones in her arms.

  "Let me go!" she hissed.

  "Shut up!" His lip curled in a snarl, baring teeth in a wolflike display of anger.

  Jessica strained against his hold, but didn't struggle, "Let me go or I'll have the manager call the police," she threatened in a treacherously low voice. Part of her couldn't help cowering from the savage fury in his eyes.

  His answer was to jerk her onto tiptoes and silence her with the bruising force of his mouth. It deadened not only her voice but her will to fight. Her mind was all messed up by the sensations crowding in. She couldn't feel anything but the tautness of his muscled thighs and the solidness of his chest and the hard punishment of his mouth.

  In the next second Brodie ended the kiss as abruptly as he had started it. Bereft, Jessica waited for whatever was to come next. Turning her, he pushed her toward the exit, not relinquishing his hold. They were nearly there when he was stopped.

  "Brodie, for God's sake, what are you doing?" Drew was there, his face darkened with angry concern.

  "Butt out!" Brodie snarled, and tried to shoulder his way past the attorney, but Drew was having none of it.

  "Dammit, what's got into you? You deserved that ice water. My God, you can't treat people like that!" Drew flashed a worried look at Jessica. "Let go of her!"

  "I said get out of my way!"

  "Get out," Drew repeated, anger flashing in his eyes. "How far out do you want me to get? Maybe completely? Do you want my resignation? Is that what you've been pushing me to these past few months?"

  "Frankly, Drew, I don't give a damn." This time Brodie physically pushed him out of the way and pulled Jessica along with him out the door.

  "Where are we going?" Jessica was practically running in order to keep up with his tong strides.

  Her demand was met with the same response as previous ones, "Shut up!"

  He continued to drag her along to the car. Opening the door, he pushed her inside and slammed it shut, Jessica rubbed her arm where his hard grip had bruised the flesh. Already the red marks had a bluish tinge to them. Excitement was mixed with fear at the way h
e had manhandled her into coming with him.

  Intimidated by his rage now under slender control, Jessica sat quietly in her seat as Brodie drove out of the parking lot. She didn't reissue the question regarding their destination. Soon she guessed where it would be—her apartment.

  Parked in front of the building, Brodie walked around to the passenger door, opened it and hauled her out without giving her a chance to step out on her own. Jessica bit her lip to check a protest of her treatment and let him push her inside. At the door, he ripped the key out of her hand, unlocked the door and shoved her inside.

  With familiar ground beneath her feet, Jessica took a stand, facing him, a scant three feet separating them. "What comes next, Brodie? Rape?" Bravado trembled in her challenge.

  His jaw tightened ominously. He turned away, combing his fingers through his hair in a savage motion. "Damn you, Jessica," he muttered.

  "Damn me?" An incredulous laugh ended in a sob. "Damn you for ignoring me as it I wasn't even there!"

  The words were barely out before his fingers circled her throat. "It was either ignore you or kill you." The look in his eyes told her she should be terrified, but she couldn't bring herself to be afraid of him. "I could kill you for what you've done to men" Brodie said almost thoughtfully, his fingers tightening around her neck, interfering with her breathing. "Kill you and then myself. I'd be better off dead."

  "Why?" His choking grip would only permit the one word.

  "I've tried to forget you, crush all the memories, block out the smell and taste and feel of you, but I can't. The harder I try, the stronger they get, until—damn you!" he cursed. "And damn your memories for tormenting me with wanting you!"

  His mouth came down hard and angry on her lips, punishing their softness. Behind the brutal posssession, Jessica felt the pent-up agony of desire, the needing and wanting that she felt just as intensely. It was to this that she responded. The hand at her throat circled her neck while his arms crushed her to his length.

  Hungrily his mouth moved to reexplore her face, not leaving an inch of it untouched. Jessica clung to him, shaken by the fierceness of his desire.

  "Is it really me you want?" she whispered.

  "My God," Brodie breathed savagely. "There hasn't been anyone else since I met you. You've stolen my potency as well as my heart."

  "What!" She tried to struggle away. His rough embrace had her senses clamoring so loudly that she couldn't hear her own thoughts. It was suddenly very necessary to be able to think and assimilate words.

  He caught her face in his hands, holding it still, the blazing fire of his eyes smoldering over her features. "You're a heartless bitch. You'll give back neither my heart, my love nor my manhood."

  "Brodie, do you love me?" Her voice throbbed. "Do you really love me?"

  "Don't pretend you didn't know!" he jeered cruelly. "I spent more hours in the air just to see you than I ever did on any project. A man doesn't do that for mere lust."

  "But I thought—Jordanna…" Jessica was so confused that she didn't know what she thought.

  "Your sister?" Brodie frowned as if incredulous that Jordanna had anything to do with their discussion.

  "I thought you only wanted me because of her," she offered lamely.

  "You mean because I was infatuated with her a long time ago?" he demanded.

  "You did say I reminded you of her," Jessica defended. "When you…That evening she was here, you hardly took your eyes off of her," she accused.

  "That night I was so painfuly conscious that you didn't want me there, I don't know where I was looking. If it was at Jordanna, I was probably trying to discover what I ever saw in her," Brodie retorted angrily before a frown of confusion flickered across his forehead. "Were you jealous that night?"

  "Insanely jealous," she admitted with a faint laugh.

  "My God!" he breathed. "And I thought…you believed I wasn't good enough to associate with your family."

  "Brodie, no!" Jessica denied it vehemently, her fingers curving tightly over his wrists. "How could you possibly think that?"

  His mouth twisted in a self-deprecating smile. "A lingering inferiority complex of the boy from the wrong side of town. As for Jordanna, initially I was interested in dating you because of her. The prospect of going to bed with you satisfied a longing to avenge that previous rejection by a Thorne. But after the third or fourth time I saw you, the sensations you were arousing in me had nothing to do with vengeance."

  Of its own volition, her body molded itself to the hard length of his, her heart thrilling to his declaration. "I love you, Brodie," she responded, trembling with the depth of her emotion.

  His arms encircled her in an iron band of love that crushed her to him, as if he was intent on defying the physical restrictions of their bodies to bring her closer to him still. His mouth moved roughly over her hair, kissing and caressing.

  "If you love me, why did you put us through this hell?" Brodie demanded, his voice echoing the shudder that racked through him. "Why did you refuse to come to me?"

  "Because…I think I hoped if I wouldn't let you make love to me, you'd marry me," Jessica admitted. "I wanted to be your wife, Brodie. I wanted to share your life, not just your bed."

  "You'll get your wish," he told her grudgingly. "If that's the only way I can have you, then I'll marry you."

  "Why, Brodie?" She drew her head away from his to gaze in confusion at his face. "Why don't you want to marry me?"

  "Because—just look around you. You have everything. You've always had everything—clothes, the finest schools, a beautiful home. Everything you've ever wanted." Impatience darkened his eyes.

  "Money? That's your reason?" Jessica frowned. "What difference should that make to you? You're wealthy and successful. As a matter of fact, you were intent on keeping me in a style I Wasn't accustomed to."

  "Yes, I have money today," he snapped. "But I'm not a blind fool. I can't expect to come up a winner every time I roll the dice. I could lose everything I have tomorrow."

  "Money doesn't mean anything to me. I don't care whether you have any or not. I love you," she argued.

  "Noble words," Brodie jeered with contempt. "But you don't know what it can be like to have nothing. When that day of cold reality comes, you'll find that love isn't enough."

  "It is!" Jessica searched for a way to prove to him that it was true. "It isn't everything, but it's enough. These past few months we've been apart, I've had all those expensive gifts you gave me, but they didn't mean anything because I didn't have you. You said it yourself, Brodie—what value is money if you can't share it with the one you care about? Without money, you can still share your love with that person."

  She would have continued, but Brodie was convinced. He silenced her in a most satisfying way.

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