Unsanctioned Memories

by Julie Miller

  Sam didn’t know which hit him harder—the notion that this man moved too fast, stood too close and took too much advantage of Jess’s vulnerability—or the stab of jealousy in knowing that that egomaniac had kissed her first.

  Chapter Eight

  Jessica’s panic was instant and intense.

  She was trapped.

  She wedged her arms between them and twisted her mouth away from those cool, confident lips. “Alex, stop!”

  Harry barked. Alex shifted his body around hers, blocking out the intrusion.

  That kiss she’d once thought was so spontaneous and seductive crept to the dent behind her ear. “C’mon, honey. You’ve got to forgive me sometime.”

  With only the toes of her tennis shoes touching ground, she stumbled as she rammed her palm up under his chin and pushed away. Jessica swatted his hand when he reached out to steady her. She steadied herself. Rock steady, on her own two feet. “Is that why you’re here? To beg my forgiveness?”

  The dog scooted between them and sat at her command.

  Alex propped his hands on his hips and shook his head as that wily-Wall-Street-predator look entered his piercing blue eyes. “I don’t beg for anything. For months you asked me to come here and see my investment firsthand. You know I have obligations. But I dropped everything because I was worried about you. Now I’m finally here and you push me away? What the hell is wrong with you, honey?”

  “You have no right to call me ‘honey.”’ Jessica shoved aside the hair that blew across her face and held it behind her ear. She should have let Harry have at him, but she’d been so shocked to see him. Alex. Here. As impetuous and uptown as ever. After all this time, he’d finally come to Missouri.

  The charm was back in his handsome features as quickly as it had gone. He took a step forward. “I know we had a fight the last time we were together. But you and I have fought before. We always make up.” She cringed. Oh, God, he was going to say it. “I always loved making up with you.”

  Jessica took a step back. She’d been a naive, starstruck young woman then. Alex had educated her in sex and exposed her to culture and sharpened her business acumen. But she was years more savvy to the ways of the world now. What had seemed like a wonderful adventure then looked like a foolish mistake now.

  “There is no making up this time. I left. Six months ago. We broke up. We’re finished.” She made sure he knew things had changed. “How’s Catherine, by the way? Your wife?” she reminded him, in case he’d forgotten the other woman he’d pledged his love and loyalty to.

  “I’m working out an arrangement with Cat.”

  “Fine. Go work it out with her. I’m not interested.” Harry darted up onto the porch as she turned to go back into the cabin. But she was suddenly struck by the uncomfortable notion of having her back to Alex. She’d let him leave first. “I’ll send you a copy of the insurance report when I receive it. We can talk then. I’m sorry you wasted the trip.” She looked up at the yellow cast to the sky and the roiling clouds above them. “You’d better get the top up on your car and find a place to stay.”

  “Seeing you is never a waste of my time. We’re good together. I can give you—”

  How dare he? “You’re a married man. You can give me nothing.”

  “Don’t be so cold. Don’t you have any feelings left for me?”

  Annoyance? Loathing? Humiliation?

  “No.”

  “Honey—”

  “She said no.” That Irish voice, in a deep don’t-mess-with-me tone, cut through the air behind her. Her knees wobbled like putty at the wave of relief that cascaded through her. “I’m right behind you, babe,” Sam warned as he walked up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

  Jessica fought her way through a momentary hesitation, then folded her arms over his and leaned into his strength. It wasn’t rescue she’d needed so much as reassurance, and Sam’s stalwart presence offered just that. He hadn’t jumped in and shoved Alex aside, he’d simply let her know that she had an ally if she needed one. Jessica stood straighter, nestled closer, liking the embrace as much as she liked the expression of affronted shock on Alex’s face. “Sam, this is Alex Templeton. He’s my business partner.”

  She didn’t label Sam. Their relationship was growing too complicated to say he was just her hired man anymore.

  There was no shaking of hands. Alex’s gaze traced the circle of their linked arms, darted up to Sam’s face, then down to hers. “What is this? Are you trying to get back at me?”

  “This isn’t about you,” she said gently yet firmly. “I’ve moved on. You should, too.”

  Alex shook his head, looking perplexed by her lack of welcome. “I suppose that offer you made this summer to buy out my share of the investment in your little company and get me out of your life entirely still stands?”

  “Yes.” Simple and direct seemed to be the best way to communicate with him.

  He took half a step forward as if he wanted to argue his point or tear her from Sam’s arms or claim some kind of reward for the sacrifice he’d apparently made in coming here. But Sam wasn’t budging and neither was she. The first bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rolled like drums right over their heads. Nice touch.

  Alex looked over his shoulder at his Porsche. Did he see it as an escape? A trapping of wealth and virility that had failed to impress her? Or was he simply worried his precious baby would get wet? When he turned to face her, his frustration and anger were evident. “I’ll be staying in town. I’ll talk to you later,” he slid a pointed look toward Sam, “when you’re alone.”

  “I won’t be alone.” She hoped. Sam’s fingers squeezed in a secret promise around hers where they clung beneath the cover of their arms. The air was chilly and popping with electricity, but Jessica felt warm and snug and confident in a way she hadn’t felt in months.

  Maybe her healing had finally begun.

  Alex snatched his sunglasses off the grass. His words were catty, though his tone was pure power broker. “This whole thing’s a tax writeoff, anyway. I’ll have my lawyers contact you. I won’t make it easy for you to get away.”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  Jessica didn’t move, and Sam didn’t release her until Alex had closed the top on his convertible and gunned the car through its gears. Sam strode down to the edge of the parking lot and watched the Porsche speeding away, gaining momentum as it crested the hill and vanished from sight.

  From this angle she could see the bulge at the back of Sam’s jeans. He was carrying his gun. He’d been prepared to defend her in more ways than one. The knowledge was at once thrilling and alarming. When he turned, she nodded toward the weapon. “Were you expecting trouble?”

  He reached behind him as if the gun was some sort of touchstone that ensured their safety. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  The wind caught the fringes of his midnight hair and whipped it around his face as he hiked back toward her, giving him a wild, untamed look. But she knew better. Beneath that rough exterior, Sam O’Rourke was all about calculating patience and precise control. He spoke to the mature woman inside her in a way Alex’s blend of boyish exuberance and sophistication never had.

  Jessica hugged her arms around her middle, protecting herself from her own chaotic urges as much as from the brunt of the chilly wind. “You noticed the Illinois plates?”

  “I noticed.” She didn’t for one moment think Sam wasn’t sizing up Alex as a suspect for the rape and murder of his sister and her own attack. He was. “I suppose his job takes him around the country?”

  Jessica nodded. “He’s a marketing consultant. In high demand, especially in the large metro areas.”

  “I’ll have Virgil run his travel records, see if any of his trips match up with the attack sites. The guy’s definitely got a temper on him, and we know he was in Chicago when you were…” His voice trailed away on an apologetic sigh. “I don’t mean to sound so impersonal about it. I
’m just trying to piece this together.”

  “I know. You’re in agent mode right now. But I think you’re chasing down the wrong path. Alex just drove in from Chicago. He couldn’t have been here last night for the break-in.”

  “Technically, all we know is that he drove in from Highway 50. Maybe he’s been in Kansas City for days.” That was an unsettling thought. But not unexpected. It wouldn’t be the first time Alex had lied to her. Sam shrugged as he sorted through all the possibilities. “Your old boyfriend doesn’t strike me as a beat-up-truck kind of guy, anyway. He could easily have hired those men to throw a scare into you.”

  Waves of chill bumps rippled across her skin, but it wasn’t from the drop in temperature. “For whatever reason, it worked. I’m scared.”

  “Was there anything about Templeton just now that seemed familiar? Something he said or a way he moved that you remember?” Lightning flickered like the Fourth of July in the cloud bank overhead, matching the colors and turbulence she saw in Sam’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask.”

  And she had to answer. “When Alex grabbed me, I did panic. I had this awful sense of déjà vu. I remember being overpowered, struggling.” Without conscious thought, she reached up and touched her neck. She’d ripped the skin from her fingers freeing herself that night. The bindings on the bed had been so tight. If she hadn’t reacted so quickly or been so determined…

  “Jess?” Sam’s gentle voice drew her back to the present. She splayed open her left hand and stared at it. Her fingers were covered with scars now, not blood. “What are you remembering? Is it Templeton?”

  She looked up into his eyes, centering herself in the countryside of southeast Kansas City, near the heart of a brewing storm. The images that had tried to form faded away. She breathed in deeply, but the picture wouldn’t return. “He couldn’t strangle me because my fingers were caught in the ligature. That’s why I didn’t die. But I still passed out. He thought I was dead.” She shrugged. “But I don’t have a face for you yet. That part’s still a blank.” Frustration closed her hand into a fist. “Surely I’d remember the attack if it was someone I knew.”

  Sam propped his hands on his hips and stood, unswaying against the buffeting force of the rising wind. He stood close enough to keep the worst of it from hitting her. It was a small gesture of comfort that threatened none of her usual hangups, and she was grateful for his consideration. “Maybe that’s why you blocked it out. Someone you trusted betrayed you.”

  “But Alex? I do remember a few things. Like the morning after? I wasn’t exactly in a part of the city that Alex would frequent. He’d be mugged or murdered there himself. He might be a jerk, but—” she had to learn to say the word “—he wouldn’t rape me. He loved me. He liked being with me, anyway.”

  “He likes controlling you. A minute ago he insulted you because he didn’t get his way.”

  A bolt of lightning split the sky, and a clap of thunder exploded right on its heels. Jessica shivered as the impact charged the air with energy. “He was tossing off words. His ego’s hurt.”

  “That’s been motive enough for some men to do the unthinkable. Rape is all about control and power.” He dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. He leaned in to be heard over the tom-tom beat of thunder in the distance. “You asked him not to touch you, and he didn’t stop.”

  Jessica wound her arms more tightly around her waist, reliving the crawling sense of dread that had swept over her when Alex had kissed her. She’d give anything to erase the sensation that clung to her skin like a sticky residue of evil intent. “That’s just his way. He lives life in the fast lane. I used to like it when he swept me off my feet like that.”

  “Don’t make excuses for him. It doesn’t matter how many times you like it. The one time you don’t and you tell him so, he needs to respect that.”

  His words, spoken in such hushed vehemence, almost made her smile. “You’ve been studying up. You sound a lot like my trauma therapist.”

  “I learned that from my father. It’s called being a man. A strong woman with talents and opinions of her own isn’t a threat. She’s a prize. An equal. It’s a pity not every male grasps the concept. Including Templeton.”

  His sister, Kerry, must have been a prize like that. He stood up straight and turned his face into the wind. Anger, regret and sorrow passed across his features before he tucked it all away behind those icy-gray eyes and looked down at her. The interview was over. “The rain’s about to hit. Anything else we need to batten down?”

  He crossed over to the porch, securing the knots on the tarps he’d tied at the base of each post. Jessica stumbled back a step as the wind hit her full force. The symbolism of how sheltered she’d been when Sam was close by wasn’t lost on her.

  As he moved on to the next post, Jessica hurried after him. When he reached for the final knot, she grabbed his hand and stopped him. His fingers were long and callused within her grasp. As strong and capable—and infinitely gentle—as the man himself.

  She’d been strong once. She intended to be strong again. And she definitely had formed an opinion about Sam O’Rourke. Jessica met the questioning look in his eyes when he turned to face her. She didn’t blink; she didn’t hesitate. “I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m glad we’re in this together.”

  The tense line of his mouth eased. He turned his hand so that their fingers laced together, linking them in the way he had so many times before. “Me, too.”

  Sam’s gaze had locked on hers and he seemed to drift imperceptibly closer, though she didn’t think either of them had moved. Harry yelped at the next clap of thunder and circled around their feet, but Jessica ignored him. She was caught up in an awareness of something completely alien from the impending storm.

  Sam’s thumb moved gently back and forth, teasing her sensitive palm with the whisper of a caress. Her skin wasn’t crawling now. Not with this touch.

  Healing wasn’t all about finding answers.

  “You said you wanted to kiss me.” It was a half-formed thought she gave voice to before she could second-guess herself. “If I said yes, would you?”

  Something dark and sensual melted the ice in those beautiful gray eyes. Sam laid a finger against her cheek and stroked a delicate circle down to the point of her chin. “Say it.”

  Softly, surely, Jessica answered. “Yes.”

  Her breath rushed out a heartbeat ahead of the thrilling expectation that consumed her. Sam tipped her chin and leaned in, bringing his mouth inch by tantalizing inch closer to hers. She’d never wanted anything so much. She’d never been so afraid to want something this much.

  Parched with anticipation, Jessica moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Sam’s gaze dropped to her mouth at the tiny dart of movement. She caught her breath, feeling the portent of that look as profoundly as a caress. It was like that first big drop on a roller coaster ride. The tension that built as she climbed to the top was nearly unbearable. But the rush of excitement as she plunged over the edge would be…must be…

  His lips touched hers, warm and firm, and Jessica knew the risk had been worth it.

  It started out as just a gentle testing of pressure. Not much. A little more. Harder. Easing up now. Sampling this corner. That curve.

  She knew he was taking things slow for her sake, and the consideration that Alex had lacked tugged at her heart. Jessica slipped her hand up to rest against Sam’s chest. She felt a tremor of movement beneath her palm, and then every muscle bunched as he held himself in rigid check. But she had asked for this kiss. She pushed onto her toes and silently asked for all of it.

  With a deep-pitched groan that was half gratitude, half desire, Sam sifted his fingers into the hair at her temple and opened his mouth over hers. Jessica parted her lips and welcomed the rasp of his tongue. She inhaled deeply and drank in the scent of the ozone-soaked air and the earthier fragrance that was Sam himself. He released her hand to frame her face between both of his, angling her mouth first this way,
then that, daring her to sample him in the same way.

  Accepting the challenge, reveling in it, she braced both hands against the muscled wall of his chest and plunged over that steep hill into passion. The soft, worn cotton of his shirt left nothing to the imagination. Crisp hair sprang up and teased her palms through the thin material. She kneaded the tips of her fingers into his solid strength and dug in as shock wave after shock wave of sensation skittered along her skin and sank deeper inside, gathering in sparks of electricity at the tips of her breasts and juncture of her thighs.

  Jessica nipped the arc of his bottom lip, suckled at the indentation of his top lip and aligned her mouth to his to savor what it felt like to be a woman cherished, desired by a man who was all man. A man whose lips were blessed by a touch of Irish magic.

  Though only their hands and mouths touched, the kiss was so achingly tender that Jessica felt herself falling into a place where no man had taken her before. Warmth, heat—fire—seeped from the pores of his skin into hers. His chest expanded in quick, deep breaths that matched her own. The whimpering sounds of need from her own throat mingled with the deeper sighs from his.

  The ride was spinning out of control. She held on as tightly as she dared, tempting herself with the gentle abrasion of his beard-roughened skin and soothing herself on the smoother texture of his supple lips. Heat leaped between them. Their tongues twisted and twined. He lifted her higher, she pulled herself closer. They were hurtling toward something she’d forgotten long ago. She grew dizzy. She reached. She wanted.

  An ice-cold raindrop splashed against her cheek, shocking her as if she’d been startled awake in the midst of a beautiful dream.

  The thrill ride crashed to a disorienting halt as she rocked back onto her heels and they both came up for air.

  “Oh, babe.” The breath from Sam’s ragged voice fluttered across her cheek. His fingers were still tangled in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers. She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and a bit of Sam himself, trying to regain her equilibrium. They were both panting heavily for air and clear thinking. “I never…”