Love Beyond Reason

by Sandra Brown

  He had returned home sometime after midnight, exhausted and dirty and hungry. While he showered, she fixed him a tall sandwich which he practically swallowed whole before collapsing onto the bed and falling into a deep slumber.

  Katherine had tried to pick up Allison, but Happy insisted that the couple spend the day together uninterrupted. Jace needed his rest after the trauma of the fire and didn’t need to be disturbed by any of Allison’s fussy spells, infrequent as they were. Katherine was delighted with the prospect of having a day to spend alone with Jace and offered no arguments to Happy’s proposal that Allison stay with her.

  Jace had awakened only an hour ago and hadn’t disappointed her. He reached for her immediately and they had made love with tender passion.

  Now he stretched both arms above his head and clasped his hands underneath it. “Lacey. Lacey,” he scoffed. “I don’t know where to start. She was beautiful, the boss’s daughter. She came on to me, an ambitious young man who was feeling his oats, and I married her. She played it just right. There was no hanky-panky allowed during our courtship. Imagine my surprise on our wedding night to discover that others had pioneered the way for me. Maybe that’s why I was so surprised to learn that my second wife was a virgin.” He reached over and kissed Katherine on the nose. She immediately nuzzled it in the hair on his chest.

  “Anyway, Lacey was a spoiled brat, somewhat like Peter, I suppose. She was, and still is, bent on destruction. She had one affair after another. After each one she begged my forgiveness during tearful scenes when she threatened suicide amid self-deprecations. I finally got fed up and told Willoughby that in order for me to continue working for him, I’d have to secure a divorce. He handled it. In all humility, I was too valuable for him to let go. And he knew what Lacey was like. His version of love is an inexhaustible checking account. I think deep down, he feels responsible for what he’s created.”

  “What happened when you went to Longview?”

  “Jealous?” he asked.

  “Damn right,” she answered.

  He laughed, but became serious when he resumed. “Well, as you no doubt noticed the day you caught us in the trailer, Lacey refuses to accept the fact that we’re not married. It doesn’t matter to her except to the extent that I’m no longer her captive. She’s got plenty of men to keep her company,” he said without rancor. “And the fact of the matter is, she’s a lousy lover. Her sensuality is all for show. She’s to be pitied.”

  He shifted his weight. “On with the story,” he sighed. “She went to this bar in Longview and got into trouble by trying to pick up someone else’s boyfriend. When the other woman won out, she became depressed, checked into a motel, took a bottle of sleeping pills, and called me. My initial reaction was to tell her to go to hell, but I couldn’t. I don’t know”—he shook his head—“maybe it’s my allegiance to Willoughby, but I just couldn’t ignore her. It was two days before she was able to leave the hospital. I phoned Willoughby to come pick her up. He’s promised to see that she gets help of some kind. Whether he will or not, I don’t know. But I made it clear to him and her both, that I’ve had it. I have another wife now that I love dearly, and I don’t intend to jeopardize that relationship under any circumstances.”

  “You should have called me, Jace, and explained the situation. I would have understood.”

  “I realize that now.” He chided himself with a short laugh. “There was so much going on that it honestly never occurred to me. I’ve lived by and for myself for so long, that I’m not in the habit of reporting my whereabouts. I apologize. Besides,” he added, “I hated the thought of dragging you into the quagmire of my former life.”

  Katherine hung her head shyly, “You haven’t… haven’t…”

  “I haven’t slept with her since long before our divorce four years ago.”

  “And the question of children?” she asked.

  He laughed harshly. “Never came up. She heard about the details of our marriage from Willoughby and couldn’t wait to get her barbs in you.”

  “Why didn’t you explain all of this before? When I first met her?”

  “What?” he cried incredulously. “And deny you all that lovely sulking and drawer slamming! Sometimes I think that you actually enjoy all your insecurities. Besides,” he added, “I’m too proud to have pleaded innocence when there wasn’t even a crime.”

  “Jace.” The word was mumbled as she leaned over him and claimed his lips with her own. Breathless from the kiss, she snuggled over his chest and rested her head under his chin. He stroked her back leisurely.

  “What would you say to our buying some property and building a house,” he surprised her by asking. She raised her head and looked at him. He went on. “I’ve spotted a beautiful three-acre lot for sale. It’s only a mile from town, but a veritable forest of trees gives it privacy. And I don’t think we’ll fit into this apartment much longer. The walls are closing in.”

  “Jace, that sounds wonderful,” she said excitedly. “But what about Sunglow? Will you be here that long?”

  “We’ll be drilling in the area for at least three years. After that”—he shrugged—“we’ll just wait and see, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed, smiling. “A house,” she sighed. “That’ll be such fun to plan.”

  “Oh, Lord, spare me,” Jace implored the ceiling.

  Katherine laughed and lay her head back on his chest. “What were your plans when you first started looking for me?” she asked sleepily.

  He chuckled and the hairs on his chest tickled her nose. “Well, I set out to find Miss Katherine Adams and spank her little fanny for doing such a dangerous, dumb thing. Of course, that was before I saw what a lovely little fanny it was.” He couldn’t resist smoothing his hand over the object of his admiration.

  “Then I was going to use persuasion, reason, money, or force to get you to release Allison into my care. It wasn’t that I was against you, Katherine,” he explained. “I was afraid that you’d lose a legal battle with my parents and they’d get guardianship of her. I’m glad they didn’t, of course.” He paused significantly. “But I’m not sure we shouldn’t let them see her.” He spoke softly and hesitantly. “I know how you might feel about that, but maybe we should give it some thought. Perhaps I’m feeling magnanimous because of my brush with death yesterday, but they’re probably suffering over everything that’s happened too. And Allison might resent us years from now if we didn’t provide her with an opportunity to form her own opinion of her grandparents… and even Peter.”

  Katherine was still and silent for a long time. Finally she asked quietly, “Can I think about what you’ve said and discuss it with you later?”

  “Certainly. I realize it hurts for you to remember Mary and everything that happened.” He kissed her shoulder lightly. “I have a vile temper, I know. But I’m working on it. I swear I’ll make you and Allison happy.”

  When next she spoke the lightheartedness had returned to her voice. “When you did catch up to me, what changed your mind about forcing my hand?”

  “I saw something,” he answered. The quality of his voice was altered too. It was husky and deep.

  Katherine rose up onto her elbows and looked down at him. “What?” she asked curiously.

  “Your face,” he replied softly.

  “Jace,” she breathed.

  “To say nothing of the rest of you,” he continued with the same stirring inflection. His eyes went to her breasts that were pressing against his chest. He let his eyes feast on their loveliness before bending his head to plant hot kisses into the soft curves.

  “I loved you from the first, Katherine. I knew after that first kiss beside Allison’s crib that I didn’t want her without having you too.” His lips became more ardent. “Love me. Please.”

  Katherine hesitated only a moment before raising herself onto his body and allowed him perfect access to relieve her aching nipples with his obliging tongue.

  She positioned herself on his body with an accuracy
that astonished him even through this pleasure. “Have you been going to X-rated foreign movies?” he rasped.

  “No, of course not.” She teased the inside of his ear with her tongue.

  “Then how did you learn how to make love so expertly?”

  “You taught me, Jason Manning,” she whispered before blending her mouth with his.

  About the Author

  Sandra Brown is the author of over sixty New York Times bestsellers, including most recently Low Pressure; Lethal; Rainwater; Tough Customer; Smash Cut; Smoke Screen; Play Dirty; Ricochet; Chill Factor; White Hot; Hello, Darkness; The Crush; Envy; The Switch; The Alibi; Unspeakable; and Fat Tuesday, all of which jumped onto the New York Times list in the numbers one to five spots. There are over eighty million copies of Sandra Brown’s books in print worldwide and her work has been translated into thirty-four languages. In 2008, Brown was named Thriller Master by the International Thriller Writers Association, the organization’s top honor. She currently lives in Texas. For more information you can visit www.SandraBrown.net.

  When Dr. Emory Charbonneau disappears on a mountain road in North Carolina, her heart-pounding story of survival begins, taking the age-old question, “Does the end justify the means?” and turning it on its head.

  Please see the next page for an excerpt from Mean Streak

  Prologue

  Emory hurt all over. It hurt even to breathe.

  The foggy air felt full of something invisible but sharp, like ice crystals or glass shards. She was underdressed. The raw cold stung her face where the skin was exposed. It made her eyes water, requiring her to blink constantly to keep the tears from blurring her vision and obscuring her path.

  A stitch had developed in her side. It clawed continually, grabbed viciously. The stress fracture in her right foot was sending shooting pains up into her shin.

  But owning the pain, running through it, overcoming it, was a matter of self-will and discipline. She’d been told she possessed both. In abundance. To a fault. But this was what all the difficult training was for. She could do this. She had to.

  Push on, Emory. Place one foot in front of the other. Eat up the distance one yard at a time.

  How much farther to go?

  God, please not much farther.

  Refueled by determination and fear of failure, she picked up her pace.

  Then from the deep shadows of the encroaching woods came a rustling sound, followed by a shift of air directly behind her. Her heart clutched with a foreboding of disaster to which she had no time to react before skyrockets of pain exploded inside her skull.

  Chapter 1

  Does it hurt this much?” Dr. Emory Charbonneau pointed to a drawing of a child’s face contorted with pain, large teardrops dripping from the eyes. “Or like this?” She pointed to another in the series of caricatures, where a frowning face illustrated moderate discomfort.

  The three-year-old girl pointed to the worst of the two.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Emory inserted the otoscope into her right ear. The child began to scream. As gently as possible, and talking to her soothingly, Emory examined her ears. “Both are badly infected,” she reported to the girl’s frazzled mother.

  “She’s been crying since she got up this morning. This is the second earache this season. I couldn’t get in to see you with the last one, so I took her to an emergency center. The doctor there prescribed meds, she got over it, now it’s back.”

  “Chronic infections can cause hearing loss. They should be avoided, not just treated when they occur. You might consider taking her to a pediatric ENT.”

  “I’ve tried. None are accepting new patients.”

  “I can get her in with one of the best.” It wasn’t a misplaced boast. Emory was confident that any one of several colleagues would take a patient that she referred. “Let’s give this infection six weeks to heal up completely, then I’ll set her up with an appointment. For now, I’ll give her an antibiotic along with an antihistamine to clear up the fluid behind the eardrums. You can give her a children’s analgesic for the pain, but as soon as the meds kick in, that should decrease.

  “Don’t push food on her, but keep her hydrated. If she’s not better in a few days, or if her fever spikes, call the number on this card. I’m going away for the weekend, but another doctor is covering for me. I doubt you’ll have an emergency, but if you do, you’ll be in excellent hands until I get back.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Charbonneau.”

  She gave the mother a sympathetic smile. “A sick child is no fun for anybody. Try to get some rest yourself.”

  “I hope you’re going someplace fun for the weekend.”

  “I’m doing a twenty-mile run.”

  “That sounds like torture.”

  She smiled. “That’s the point.”

  Outside the examination room, Emory filled out the prescription form and finished her notes in the patient file. As she handed it over to the office assistant who checked out patients, the young woman said, “That was your last of the day.”

  “Yes, and I’m on my way out.”

  “Did you notify the hospital?”

  She nodded. “And the answering service. I’m officially signed out for the weekend. Are Drs. Butler and James with patients?”

  “They are. And both have several in the waiting room.”

  “I hoped to see them before I left, but I won’t bother them.”

  “Dr. Butler left you a note.”

  She passed her a sheet from a monogrammed notepad. Break a leg. Or is that what you say to a marathon runner? Emory smiled as she folded the note and put it in her lab coat pocket.

  The receptionist said, “Dr. James asked me to tell you to watch out for bears.”

  Emory laughed. “Do their patients know they’re a couple of clowns? Tell them I said good-bye.”

  “Will do. Have a good run.”

  “Thanks. See you Monday.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Your husband called and said he was leaving work and would be at home to see you off.”

  * * *

  “Emory?”

  “In here.” As Jeff walked into the bedroom she zipped up her duffel bag and, with a motion that was intentionally defiant, pulled it off the bed and slid the strap onto her shoulder.

  “You got my message? I didn’t want you to leave before I got here to say good-bye.”

  “I want to get ahead of Friday afternoon traffic.”

  “Good idea.” He looked at her for a moment, then said, “You’re still mad.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

  Last night’s argument was still fresh. Words shouted in anger and resentment seemed to be reverberating off the bedroom walls even now, hours after they’d gone to bed, lying back to back, each nursing hostility that had been simmering for months and had finally come to a boil.

  He said, “Do I at least get points for wanting to see you off?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “On whether or not you’re hoping to talk me out of going.” He sighed and looked away, and she said, “That’s what I thought.”

  “Emory—”

  “You should have stayed and finished out your day at the office. Because I’m going, Jeff. In fact, even if I hadn’t planned this distance run for tomorrow, I’d still want to take some time for myself. A night spent away from each other will give us a chance to cool off. If the run wears me out, I may stay up there tomorrow night, too.”

  “One night or two won’t change my mind. This compulsion of yours—”

  “This is where we started last night. I’m not going to rehash the quarrel now.”

  Her training schedule for an upcoming marathon had been the subject that sparked the argument, but she feared that more substantive issues had been the underlying basis for it. The marathon wasn’t their problem; the marriage was.

  Which is why she wanted so badly to get away and think. “I wrote
down the name of the motel where I’ll be tonight.” As they walked past the kitchen bar, she tipped her head down toward the sheet of paper lying on it.

  “Call me when you get there. I’ll want to know you made it safely.”

  “All right.” She slid on her sunglasses and opened the back door. “Good-bye.”

  “Emory?”

  Poised on the threshold, she turned. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. “Be careful.”

  * * *

  “Jeff? Hi. I made it.”

  The two-hour drive from Atlanta had left Emory tired, but most of the fatigue was due to stress, not the drive itself. The traffic on northbound Interstate 85 had thinned out considerably about an hour outside the city, when she took the cutoff highway that angled northwest. She’d arrived at her destination before dusk, which had made navigating the unfamiliar town a bit easier. She was already tucked into bed at the motel, but tension still claimed the space between her shoulder blades.

  Not wanting to exacerbate it, she’d considered not calling Jeff. Last night’s quarrel had been a skirmish. She sensed a much larger fight in their future. Along every step of the way, she wanted to fight fairly, not peevishly.

  Besides, if the shoe had been on the other foot, if he had left on a road trip and didn’t call as promised, she would have been worried about his safety.

  “Are you already in bed?” he asked.

  “About to turn out the light. I want to get an early start in the morning.”

  “How’s the motel?”

  “Modest, but clean.”

  “I get worried when clean is an itemized amenity.” He paused as though waiting for her to chuckle. When she didn’t, he asked how the drive had been.

  “All right.”

  “The weather?”

  They were reduced to discussing the weather? “Cold. But I planned on that. Once I get started, I’ll warm up fast enough.”