Dynasties: The Elliotts, Books 1-6

by Various Authors

  “I wish I wasn’t.”

  “Maybe we’ll have some luck through AFIS. Let’s hope for good news.”

  “But what if that doesn’t work? What if my fingerprints aren’t in there?”

  Mac halted, hearing the slight desperation in her voice. “Don’t worry, Jane. There’s more to do. We have a protocol. The next step would be to go to the local media. That’s why I asked about identifying marks on your, uh, body.” Mac immediately recalled their conversation about Jane’s birthmark. He hadn’t dreamed of it or her, like he’d said last night, but the woman had never been far from his mind since he’d met her, birthmark and all.

  Jane’s blond brows rose to attention and she had this uncanny way of raising one brow higher than the other that drove him wild. “You mean for me to go on television?”

  “Not exactly. We’d release a picture of you for the newspapers and television stations, along with what we know about you. We’d do spots on local radio stations as well, with your description and details about how you were found. We’d publicize anything that would help someone identify you.”

  “Oh, when would we do that?”

  “We can do so as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

  “What do you think I should do?” she asked, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. It was clear that she trusted him, and he didn’t want to abuse that trust.

  Mac placed his hand on her back again and they began walking slowly. “I say go for it. The more we do, the faster we can get results. I only hesitated about the media because being exposed like that tends to make some people uncomfortable. We can wait on it and hope you remember something, or we can move straight ahead.”

  Jane listened intently, then nodded. “Let’s move ahead. And I hate to be a pessimist, but what if nothing works?”

  Mac held her stare, reassuring her. “There’s more to do if we come up empty with all of this.”

  “Like what?”

  “DNA samples, hypnotist…But let’s not jump the gun. I’ll explain all this to you later.” He stopped again once they reached the window whose sign read Fingerprints. “Here we are. Margie will take you through the process. I’ll be in my office. Check with me when you’re through.”

  Jane nodded and Mac left her, heading back to his office. Jane was one concern, but now Marion had planted a bug in his head about Lizzie.

  And it was all Mac could think about the rest of the day.

  “You’re home earlier than I expected,” Lizzie said, as she set down a mass of papers on the entry table and walked over to the living room sofa. Jane had spent the bulk of the afternoon reading. She’d found a Dean Koontz novel on the fireplace mantel and figured it would be a good way to pass the time.

  “Hi, Lizzie. I could say the same about you. Finals all through for the day?” She set the book down, happy to have Lizzie’s company for the moment.

  “Yep, and I thought I’d bring the essays home, rather than read them in the classroom. This way I can get comfy and put my feet up. Makes for a more generous grade for my students.” She grinned.

  “I bet you’re pretty generous to them, anyway. What subjects do you teach?”

  Lizzie sat down next to her on the sofa and sighed. “What subjects don’t I teach? I’ve been around a while and I’ve taught everything from home economics and art to journalism and English. Right now I’m teaching tenth grade English and history.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty impressive. Do you have a favorite subject?”

  “Mmm, I love American history. But it’s a challenge getting my students excited about our heritage.”

  Jane couldn’t remember her school days, so she had little to add. She didn’t know her favorite subject or whether she had appreciated American history while she was in school.

  “How was your day?” Lizzie asked, making herself comfortable on the sofa. She kicked off her sandals and lifted her legs, tucking her feet under her. Her earnest approach and guileless nature was what Jane liked best about Lizzie Riggs. She felt immediate warmth and a budding friendship with her.

  “My day went well. Your brother’s doing all he can for me. I spent the morning getting fingerprinted, and then Mac had me go through some missing persons reports. I guess time will tell. But I did meet some of the nicest deputies today. Everyone seemed so friendly. One of the men asked about you. A Lyle Brody?”

  Lizzie’s brown eyes rounded in surprise and her voice went raspy. “Lyle asked for me?”

  It seemed that Lizzie’s whole demeanor changed then. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she sat up, leaning in, on full alert. Her body language couldn’t be mistaken. Lizzie had the hots for Lyle Brody.

  “He sure did. He said to say hello and that you should stop by the jail again real soon.”

  Lizzie’s face took on a dreamy quality. “He didn’t.”

  Jane grinned. “He did. He also said that I was lucky to be staying with you, because you’re the best cook in Winchester County. Did you cook for him?”

  Lizzie beamed, though she tried darn hard to hide the fact. “Well, yes. But not really. I mean to say, Mac started this thing at the jail. The last Friday of every month they have Potluck Pantry. He’s got so many darn bachelors on the force that he decided once a month his deputies should get a decent meal. So some of us pitch in and cook them up enough food for lunch and dinner.”

  “That’s nice. And Lyle likes your cooking in particular?”

  Lizzie shrugged modestly. “I suppose.”

  Jane figured Lizzie to be in her late twenties. She was cute and friendly and had a great personality. There had to be a reason why she wasn’t married, or at least dating. And Jane had a feeling that the reason had to do with Mac. Lizzie had made a comment once before about her loyalty to her brother.

  “So, if he likes your cooking so much, why not cook him up a meal…in private?” Jane pressed.

  Lizzie nodded. “I’ve thought about it, hundreds of times, but…”

  “But?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “So, un-complicate it.”

  “If only Mac would settle down again,” she said quietly, and Jane guessed that she hadn’t meant her comment to be heard.

  “Mac is a big boy, Lizzie,” Jane said sweetly. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds, but she also wanted to help her new friend.

  “I know. But he’s taken care of me for fifteen years. I can’t abandon him now. I can’t…leave my brother alone.”

  “Have you spoken to him about this?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “No. Mac’s protective. You know, the big brother syndrome. He doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for me. He’s kind of in the stone age about things like that.”

  “Maybe it’s time you shook him into the twenty-first century.”

  Lizzie took a good long minute to think about it, then smiled, her face beaming again. She gave Jane the oddest look and patted her knee. “Maybe I should. Thanks, Jane. I think you’ve hit upon something here.”

  She grabbed her essay papers and sighed with contentment. “I’ll be hibernating in my room for two hours, then I’m off. I have a dinner meeting tonight. I’ll be home kind of late. You don’t mind cooking a meal for Mac, do you?”

  “No,” Jane said, watching her leave the room with a bounce in her step. “Of course not.”

  The strangest sensation swept over Jane. She shuddered involuntarily. Relying on her powers of deduction as well as a gut feeling, she surmised that something significant had just happened, something to do with her and Lizzie’s hunky brother.

  Mac entered the kitchen and cursed under his breath. “Where the hell is Lizzie?”

  “What?” Jane turned around from her task at the kitchen counter, looking puzzled. “Did you say something?”

  “It’s nothing,” he answered, hanging up his hat and gun belt on the hook by the door. He already knew the answer. Lizzie’s car wasn’t in the driveway and she wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight. Again. This
made three consecutive nights that she had been long gone when he arrived home from work.

  Mac knew exactly what his little sister was up to. Lizzie and Marion had been prodding him for years to get involved with a woman again. Lizzie’s absence again tonight, the fact that she’d chosen the most revealing clothes to give Jane to wear, the fact that Jane looked like a damn cover model in those clothes, all had Mac’s nerves on edge.

  Yeah, he knew what Lizzie was up to—and it was working.

  Damn. Spending a good part of his days with Jane and the better part of the evenings hadn’t helped his resolve to keep his distance. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

  Tomorrow her picture would be splashed all over the television screens and newspapers. Her description would air on the local radio stations as well. Soon Jane Doe would be a household name in Winchester County.

  But right now she stood in his kitchen, looking too much like she belonged there, cooking up his dinner.

  Mac took a big breath to steady his nerves. Jane caught his deep sigh, and so he said quickly, “Something smells good.”

  She smiled and even the specks of flour dusting her face couldn’t mar her beauty. Her clothes fit her like a glove. Lizzie’s Levi’s hugged her hips, and Jane wore a white, sleeveless button-down blouse two sizes too small for her, each button seeming to strain to keep the material from separating. Mac had had trouble keeping his eyes averted today at the jail, and he couldn’t miss his deputies’ conspicuous interest, either. Jane turned heads wherever she went. He had to do something about her attire. She was pretty enough to draw attention without those revealing clothes, but with them, Mac hated to admit, the woman turned him on.

  He forced his body not to react while at work. But seeing her in his kitchen, and being alone with her, well, hell. He was human. And hard as a rock.

  “It’s nothing special, just baked chicken and potatoes. I tried making biscuits, too. I’m sure you’d prefer Lizzie’s cooking over mine.”

  Mac ran his hand through his short-cropped hair. “Same restaurant, different chef. Good cooking is good cooking, Jane. I’ll be back in a few minutes to help set the table.”

  With that, Mac headed for an ice-cold shower.

  Thirty minutes later, he entered the kitchen again after the icy assault and the stern, wordless lecture he’d given himself. He felt relieved and much more in control.

  He could manage living with the lovely blonde without getting personally involved. He knew something of self-discipline.

  Until he took one look at Jane’s face.

  She turned to him from the stove, her face flushed, her eyes moist and her body trembling.

  The smoke alarm began to chirp wildly.

  He glanced down at the pan of chicken, the charred and blackened pieces almost unrecognizable now, surrounded by twice crisped potatoes and toasted biscuits that would chew like leather. The house smelled like a Wildcats football rally bonfire—after the fact—and was just as smoky.

  Mac grimaced at the scene, feeling things he had no right feeling. Caring too much. He’d never been one to lose his heart to a woman. Not even his one-time wife.

  “Jane, what the hell?”

  Upon hearing her name, she burst into tears. Her body shuddered uncontrollably and she broke down, crying quietly. Her silent sobs wrenched his heart.

  He reached for the kitchen window, sliding it open quickly, and smoke found its way out. He turned to her. “It’s just dinner,” he said roughly. “We’ll get pizza.”

  “I…told you, Lizzie’s a better cook. I…don’t…know what I’m doing here,” she managed to blubber, waving her arms in the air.

  “Okay, so maybe Lizzie’s a better cook. Maybe cooking isn’t your thing.”

  “It’s not just dinner…you, you…”

  “Idiot?”

  “I didn’t call you an idiot. I learned my lesson the first time.”

  “But you were thinking it.”

  Jane sopped up her tears then glared with those lavender-blue eyes that went dollar size on him.

  “What?” he growled. What the hell had he done wrong?

  She tossed the kitchen towel at him.

  Surprised at her gumption, he caught the towel before it slammed into his face. “Damn it, Jane. I can’t figure you out.”

  “That makes two of us!” Her breaths shaky, she continued, “I can’t figure me out, either! I don’t know a thing about myself. I can’t cook worth a darn, that’s a given. But what else do I know? Nothing. Not one darn thing.”

  Mac played with the kitchen towel, which sported blue ducks and yellow daisies. Jane had a temper. She had spirit and pride and intelligence. He already knew she was a knockout in the looks department. His mind in turmoil, he couldn’t tell if he was more pissed off or more aroused.

  Neither emotion would do.

  “Is all this about one burned dinner?” he asked, trying to make some sense of her outburst. He couldn’t claim to know what she was going through right now, but he’d done and would do everything in his power to help her regain her memory.

  She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “No? Then what?”

  Jane lowered her head, her eyes downcast, as if staring at the ruined meal, but Mac knew she didn’t really see any of it. “Deputy Brody called while you were in the shower. He said…he said that, uh, my fingerprints didn’t come up with a match. I was supposed to relay the message.”

  Damn, Lyle should have run that by me privately.

  When she glanced at him this time with a face devoid of hope, a body slumped in defeat, Mac couldn’t hold back another second. He took the steps necessary to reach her. He swept her into his arms, pulling her close, resting her head against his chest and tucking her hair under his chin.

  “It’s okay, Jane,” he whispered, brushing his lips to her forehead. “Don’t give up hope.”

  She clung to him, and he realized that maybe this had been what she needed all along—someone to hold her. To tell her everything was going to be all right.

  He glanced down to where her breasts crushed against him. The top button of her blouse popped open, exposing creamy skin, right down to the white lace bra she wore.

  He slid his eyes shut, but her image, and the sweet fragrant scent of her hair, sent him over the edge. He was rock solid against her and didn’t give a damn.

  “Mac,” she whispered softly.

  When he looked down he met her gaze, and Mac realized it wasn’t just comfort Jane wanted. He tipped her head and bent his, watching acceptance and desire sweep across Jane’s lovely face. He brought his lips down on hers, claiming her mouth in a kiss that began slowly, softly, a test to where they would go from there. A little throaty sound slipped from Jane’s lips and Mac drew her closer, cupping her face in his hands, then sliding them farther back, to flow through her blond waves.

  She pressed in, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair. Her mouth was soft and warm and giving, and Mac deepened the kiss, exploring her lips thoroughly until she sighed with pleasure.

  He hadn’t been with a woman in quite a while. Fact was, he’d dated some, slept with others, but he couldn’t recall a time when a woman had crept into his bones like this. He couldn’t remember ever needing this way.

  He parted Jane’s lips and kissed her openmouthed, losing some of his usual self-control as their tongues danced together, a gentle ballet that soon became a wild tango. Lips and tongues and bodies touched and meshed and blended. They created heat together, a blaze that brought sweat to their brows. Hearts pounded. Bodies cried out for more.

  A thought struck Mac. He pulled back, breaking off the kiss, and looked deeply into Jane’s eyes. “You could be married.”

  She shook her head, lifting her left hand and wiggling her ringless ring finger. “I don’t think so.”

  “You could be engaged. Maybe there’s a man out there waiting to marry you.”

  Again, Jane shook her head. “There’
s no one. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

  Mac wasn’t so sure. Jane Doe didn’t appear to be a woman who’d be alone in the world. She’d shown him passion and vulnerability, as well as strength and intelligence. She was beautiful and sexy and feisty as hell. How could a woman like that be unattached?

  She still had her arms around his neck. Mac relished their contact one minute more, taking her in another deep, long, deliberate kiss, before he reached down to the slope of her breasts.

  She waited, her expectant gaze fastened to his. Mac touched the top button that had popped open. She took in a deep breath, straining the material even more. He hesitated, realizing the implications of his next move. He wanted nothing more than to slip his hands inside her blouse and stroke her flesh. To feel the soft, ripe swells.

  Slowly, with deft fingers, he refastened the button and backed away. He blinked from the impact of leaving her, giving up the best gift he might ever receive. Clearing his throat, he lifted his gaze to look into her baffled blue eyes. “Tomorrow, we go shopping. You need clothes of your own.”

  Five

  “Well, here we are,” Mac said as he pulled into the Winchester Mall parking lot. “It’s not fancy, but I think you’ll find something you might like here.”

  Jane glanced at him, sitting in his black Trailblazer, looking as if he wished he were anywhere but here. He wore blue jeans that fit him too well and a white tank with four large brown initials, WCSD. Winchester County Sheriff’s Department.

  She decided Mac Riggs was one with his job. Whether off duty or on, his job, his commitment to the county, defined him. She respected him for his dedication and knew she was nothing more to him than an obligation.

  But she hadn’t felt like an obligation when he’d kissed her last night. She been swamped with emotions, wondering about herself, struggling with the meal. And when Deputy Brody had called with the disappointing news, Jane had gone into meltdown.

  She hadn’t expected to fall into Mac’s arms that way, or to kiss him for all she was worth. She hadn’t expected to feel more alive in that moment than she had for the last four days, ever since she’d woken up with no memory.