“Brian loves me,” said Karen again. Her shoulders shook. “Jakey … I feel so lost.”
Jacob reached out slowly and stroked his sister’s hair. “Did he bring you drugs, Karen?”
Karen nodded, stifling sobs with her fist. She pointed at the dresser and Jacob rifled through the top drawer until he found the tiny bag. It wasn’t the first time. Jacob had found drugs in Karen’s room before. He hadn’t told his parents or the staff because he hadn’t wanted to jeopardize Karen’s placement in the treatment center. Stupidly, he’d thought he could handle the situation himself. But apparently knocking Brian Jenks’s lights out hadn’t done the trick.
Earlier in the day he’d driven to Minturn looking for Brian, hoping to have another go at it. Not at putting the man’s lights out, necessarily, but at coming to an understanding. He’d gone to a house where he’d heard Brian had been doing some odd-job carpentry, and then to The Minturn Saloon. He’d gone prepared to buy him off. To give him the money to go to another state, to build a meth lab in California, to start a meth empire for all Jacob cared. He just wanted the man as far from his sister as possible.
But he hadn’t found Brian, and now he was glad. He knew the idea of giving Brian Jenks money was utterly irresponsible. Maybe even evil. Brian Jenks would buy filthy drugs and sell them to somebody’s sister. He couldn’t let that happen. But what could he do? He couldn’t keep beating him up. Jacob was at a loss.
After the fight that night, he’d gone back to the hotel in a daze, dreading the inevitable fall-out. If the fight was widely publicized, it could reveal Jacob’s secret after all — and ruin Karen’s life. He’d avoided the hotel staff and his teammates as best he could that night, and in the few days to follow. He’d had bruises and cuts on his face, but it was some consolation to know that Brian looked worse.
Jacob had been remarkably unfocused on his training. Absentminded. Forgetful. No one knew that his mind was spinning, racing to find a solution to the terrible reality of Karen’s addiction and the danger of Jenks’s influence without jeopardizing the whole family’s pressing need for secrecy.
He couldn’t even remember what he’d done with the drugs he’d confiscated from Karen the last time. A cold chill swept through him. They must still be in his room somewhere. What if someone found them? One of the maids? If they went to the press, hoping to benefit from his notoriety, his whole carefully built house of cards could topple down around his ears. He would look for them and throw them away along with this day’s batch as soon as he got back.
He looked at the little bag in his palm. He looked at it so hard it was like he was trying to shoot a laser beam with his eyes and zap the bag out of existence. Damn Brian Jenks to hell.
Now that this had happened a second time it was clear to him that he couldn’t deal with the situation alone. He needed backup. From the staff. From his parents. Maybe from the police — although he would only go to them as a last resort.
“I’ve got to report this,” Jacob said. “Karen, I’m sorry. He can’t see you. He’s poison for you.”
“Jakey, no,” Karen said, eyes wild. “If you talk to the staff they’ll kick me out. I can’t go home yet. I’m not ready. I need more time. I need more help. Jakey, please. I know that you’re right about Brian. I know he’s bad for me. But I’m all he’s got.”
“Maybe,” said Jacob. “But he’s not all you’ve got, Karen. You have a family. You have a future. You’re a giver, Karen. Many men will love and need you throughout your life. You have to be careful. You have to keep your heart safe and only give it to the man who will help you protect it. Cherish it.”
“What if I don’t find him?” whispered Karen.
“You will,” said Jacob. He thought of Ariel, her sensitivity, her warmth, the way she looked into his eyes and seemed to understand everything about him. If he could find someone he could trust with his heart, Karen could, too. He was sure of it. He realized that he wanted Ariel to meet Karen. He didn’t want to keep his life compartmentalized anymore. He was tired of secrets.
“I won’t talk to the staff about the drugs,” said Jacob. “But we’re going to tell them that Brian Jenks isn’t allowed to visit anymore. We’re going to tell them right now. Together.”
“Okay,” said Karen.
“And next time I come,” said Jacob. “I’m going to bring someone special to introduce to you. I think you’ll like her.”
Karen gave a wobbly smile. “I bet I will, Jakey. If she’s willing to put up with you, I think she’s crazy enough to fit in with us Hunters.”
“I hope so,” Jacob said. “I hope so.”
Jacob looked forward to seeing Ariel again the whole way back into town. He went over the events of the previous night in his mind, turning each moment over like a precious treasure. Ariel had given herself to him unreservedly. He was ready to do the same for her — to make a gift of himself, his heart, the truth about his family and his life. She was a reporter. But somehow he knew that their connection meant more to her now than her assignment, her professional responsibilities. He trusted her.
Besides, she was only writing a celebrity profile. From what he’d seen of those in the past, she wouldn’t have to dig too deep to give the magazine’s readership a satisfyingly superficial account of Jacob Hunter, the cycling star. He’d tell her some anecdotes about cycling in Europe, his camaraderie with his teammates, whatever she needed to paint a shallow picture of Jacob as an athlete — and a man — with nothing to hide.
When he got back to his room, he suffered a minor feeling of disappointment to see that Ariel wasn’t there any longer. It would be ridiculous if she were. Had he really imagined she’d lie in bed all day waiting for him? Of course not. But he liked the idea of it … of seeing her still stretched out in his bed, warm and naked, sleeping late after their night of wild abandon, which had lasted until the early hours of the morning.
He called her cell, and was surprised when she didn’t answer. He’d gotten used to the assumption that he was her priority during her time in Colorado. Her interview subject. And, finally, her lover.
Maybe I need an ego check, he thought ruefully.
Maybe she was in the shower? He checked her room, but there was no answer to his knock, and he didn’t hear anything from within.
Frustrated, he wandered back to his room, feeling aimless now that he couldn’t find her, couldn’t make a clean breast of it as he’d planned, couldn’t invite her to meet his sister. His parents. He was surprised to realize how much he wanted her around — permanently. This wasn’t a one-week kind of feeling. It wasn’t a one-month feeling, or even one year.
It was a one-lifetime feeling. A once in one-lifetime kind of love.
He had to do something to work off some of his physical and mental energy. The day had already been a rollercoaster ride. It left him feeling keyed up, jittery. His rest days were sometimes harder than his days of hard training. He was accustomed to so much physical activity. When he didn’t get it, he felt oddly off-balance. And there were so many hours in the day when you didn’t spend five of them on a bicycle.
Usually he spent his time off the bike loading up on high calorie foods, hanging out with his teammates or with Liz, and reading voraciously. People who got close to him were always surprised to learn that Jacob Hunter was a bookworm. It had always been his second favorite activity, his second favorite escape from mundane reality. In the past few years he’d had hardly any time to indulge in his literary habit, but he crammed a little in here and there — a few pages at a time in a hotel room, a team RV, or an airport.
Today he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on One Hundred Years of Solitude. Wouldn’t be able to keep all the characters, their names repeating from generation to generation, straight in his head. It required serious mental effort at the best of times. Today there was no chance. He grabbed his towel and changed
into swim trunks. When in doubt, he thought, go swimming.
When he exited the elevator on the hotel’s roof he saw that another hotel guest had had the same idea. With a rush of pleasure — and desire — he realized it was Ariel’s incomparable form slipping gracefully through the cool water. He dived in behind her and swam quickly to catch up. Just like the first time, he thought.
• • •
They came up for air within feet of each other. As soon as Ariel saw Jacob — his warm smile, his gorgeous eyes catching the light of the afternoon sun — her heart did a weird flip in her chest. She’d come to the pool to collect herself, to soothe her jangling nerves, to plan what she’d do next. She hadn’t known what she’d say when she saw Jacob again — and she still didn’t.
She wanted to swim to him, to kiss him, to taste his lips again as she had last night. And simultaneously she felt that a wall had grown up between them. A wall that made kissing Jacob ever again seem impossible.
She’d been crying. She was glad that the wetness of the pool water on her cheeks hid it from him.
• • •
Jacob knew something was wrong — very wrong. Ariel’s face was beautiful, as always. But she was looking as him as if he’d killed her kitten. As if he’d betrayed her horribly in some way. As if her heart was breaking.
To his shock, she turned her back on him and swam to the side of the pool, pulling herself out as if she couldn’t stand to share the water with him. She was halfway to the elevator before he caught up with her.
“Ariel!” he yelled, and she paused without turning around. He passed her and wheeled around to face her, blocking her path. He stepped closer and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. She dropped her head, refusing to meet his eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek and he saw it, caught it with his finger, gently wiping it away. He looked at her, questioning, but she wasn’t looking at him. He had to ask.
“What is it? What’s happened?” He tilted up her chin. “Look at me.”
He gazed into the welling emerald depths of her eyes. He let his hands drop to her shoulders, tried to envelop her in a hug.
“Don’t touch me,” she said softly, and then bit her lower lip in a way that reminded him of his little sister, that sent a surge of love and sadness sweeping through him, a desire to protect her against whatever it was that was hurting her — except that, given the way she was acting, it seemed as if he himself were the source of her pain.
He let her go, watching her walk to the elevator, not sure if he should follow her or not.
His indecision only lasted a moment — just long enough for the elevator doors to close, hiding Ariel from his view. He waited impatiently for it to come up again, toweling himself dry as he did so.
He exited at Ariel’s floor and jogged down the hallway to the door of her room. Knocking, he hoped like hell she’d answer.
• • •
Ariel looked up from where she sat on the side of her hotel bed when she heard Jacob’s knock. She stared at the door blankly. She wasn’t ready for this. But she’d have to face him eventually. Might as well get it over with. She opened the door and backed away from it, her arms crossed over her chest, as Jacob entered warily.
“Ariel?” he asked. She jolted as her body responded uncontrollably, unconsciously, to his nearness, the husky richness of his voice. “Talk to me. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It was torture to hear the pleading tone in his voice, the genuine uncertainty. To see his brow furrowed with concern. Had he truly imagined she wouldn’t find out?
“Jacob,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, “I found this in your desk drawer. I was looking for paper to write you a note.”
Jacob stared blankly at the tiny plastic bag Ariel held out on her palm. “It’s not mine,” he said levelly, raising his eyes to meet hers.
Ariel’s voice broke as she cried, “Don’t lie to me, Jacob. Everyone says you’re using drugs to win races. I was beginning to think they were wrong. How could I have been so naïve?”
Jacob shook his head, half annoyed, half confused. “You’ve got one thing wrong for sure, Ariel,” he said. “Performance enhancing drugs don’t look anything like that. What you’ve got there is methamphetamine.”
Ariel’s eyes widened. She dropped the baggie on the ground as if it were a poisonous snake. “That’s supposed to be better?” she hissed furiously.
Jacob closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her.
Ariel was stiff as a board in his arms. Then she dropped her head against his chest, raised her hands to either side of his waist. She couldn’t feel furious, betrayed, when he held her like this. Simply couldn’t. No matter what he’d done. Jacob pulled her against him and she was plunged back into the overwhelming array of sensations she’d felt the night before. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity. Ariel’s mind was saying one thing, her body — all her senses — saying something else. Saying, against all the evidence and all the strength of her rational thinking, You can trust this man.
As if he’d read her mind, Jacob brushed his lips against her ear, whispering, “Trust me.” She let herself relax completely against him, pressing the length of her body into his. She was responding to him instinctively, from the feeling in her gut. Not the way she was accustomed to operating.
Jacob’s arm tightened around Ariel’s waist, lifting her onto her toes. He sank his other hand into the voluminous mass of her hair and kissed her passionately, completely shattering her last defenses.
“There’s an explanation,” he murmured but she stopped his lips with her finger.
“Not now,” she said. “If I trust you … ” Her words came slowly, as though she were figuring out how she felt even as she spoke. “If I trust you … I don’t need an explanation. I don’t need proof. Trust isn’t about evidence. It’s something else. Something riskier and deeper. It’s like … ”
She’d almost said love.
“Faith,” he finished. His grip was so tight it hurt.
“I will prove to you that your trust wasn’t misplaced, Ariel Hayes,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said. “Later.”
Chapter Twelve
Ariel came to consciousness slowly. It was the middle of the night. The room was dark. Her body felt warm … good. Too warm … too good …
Memory flooded back and she returned to her senses. Her senses told her that she was in bed with Jacob Hunter. Her legs were entwined with his. One of his arms was thrown over her hip. Every part of her welcomed his weight. His warmth. She felt fantastic.
It was a mistake, of course. Jumping into bed with Jacob after finding meth in his hotel room was obviously a mistake.
But it had to be the best mistake she’d ever made.
Ariel ran her fingertips over Jacob’s shoulder. As always, his sharply defined muscles made her catch her breath. Maybe she was the one with the problem. Maybe she was the one who was out of control.
She was addicted to Jacob Hunter.
She couldn’t say no to that body … to those gorgeous golden eyes … that demanding mouth. She couldn’t suppress her cravings. She wanted him all the time. Her better judgment was powerless against her baser urges. He was so damn irresistible. It wasn’t just his perfect butt, or his masculine jaw line, or the way he looked at her, the way his expression could change from sleepy-sexy to super-intense in less than a split second. It was his confidence, his wit, his flashes of surprising sweetness and sensitivity … .
For god’s sake, the man could even quote from her father’s favorite Shakespeare play. He had used his knowledge of The Tempest and what she’d told him about her kind, bookish father to guess her namesake.
The lines came to her:
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake, awake.
She couldn’t remember when in The Tempest Ariel uttered those lines, or to whom, or to what purpose. Still, the message was clear. It was a warning. She should get out of bed. Get away from Jacob.
The only way to break an addiction is to go cold turkey. But what if she wasn’t addicted? Or rather, what if she was addicted to Jacob — not like addicted to a drug, but like addicted to … water … light … air.
What are you saying? Ariel asked herself. Are you saying you need Jacob Hunter? That Jacob Hunter is essential to sustaining your life? The thought was scarier than thinking she was just hooked on having sex with him. Though while she was in the admitting frame of mind, she might as well come clean with herself — she was hooked on the sex. She was a total goner. Jacob had brought her to climax three times over the course of the night and she was still hungry for more.
Sighing, Ariel surrendered to her impulses. She snuggled closer to him and even in his sleep he tightened his arms around her protectively. He murmured something and Ariel pressed her ear to his chest. The low rumble of his voice soothed her. His tone was gentle. What had he said?
“I love you,” Jacob whispered. Ariel froze. She wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. Was he awake? Asleep? Ariel lie breathing against him for what felt like hours before she drifted off again into dreams.
She woke again with light streaming around her. Jacob had rolled onto his side. He regarded her with a devilishly sexy smile, trailing his knuckles between her breasts, heading down to her navel … and lower … Ariel caught his hand.
“I think we need to talk,” she said.
His grin widened. “First we need to build more trust,” he said.
In the sober light of day, Ariel felt more detached from her grand pronouncements of the night before. The night before … when she’d basically told Jacob Hunter she had unshakeable, eternal faith in him based on nothing but a feeling. Sheesh. She was getting too mystic for her own good. Well, maybe a slight amendment was in order.
Heart to Heart Page 131
