Reilly's Return

by Tami Hoag

  Jayne had never played the seductress with him. He had always initiated their lovemaking. In fact, over the past couple of weeks he had sensed a certain reluctance in her. He had felt her pulling away because of all the attention he was getting from the paparazzi and his fans. But now Jayne was clearly assuming the role of the aggressor. Reilly wondered dimly if it had anything to do with their being isolated. If it did, he decided as Jayne slid her blouse back off her shoulders and let it drop, he was going to chuck it all and become a hermit.

  “What are you doing, Jaynie?” he questioned softly as she lifted her hands to his shirt front and began to slip the buttons from their moorings.

  “You told me to stop backing away,” she said.

  “Mmm …” He sighed as she pulled his shirttails from his jeans. “What about the llamas?”

  “They won’t bother us,” she said, dragging the red shirt back off his broad shoulders, baring his chest to her gaze and her kisses. She brushed her lips over his skin and delighted in the scent and taste of him. Wild shivers coursed through her. Participating in life was fun, worrying wasn’t. That particular philosophy was gaining popularity with her in direct proportion to the increasing intensity of her desire. “I told them to take a nap after lunch.”

  “And you’re not worried about them being your maiden aunts come back to life in hairy animal hides?”

  Jayne broke off from her exploration of his chest to give him a narrow look. “I’m trying to seduce you here, Reilly. Would you mind just keeping your mouth shut for once?”

  “No problem,” he said, fighting a grin. “But isn’t that gonna make it hard for me to kiss you?”

  “Good point,” Jayne conceded, fighting an attack of giggles. She wound her arms around his neck and lifted herself against him, pressing her bare breasts to the sun-warmed planes of his chest. The contact was delicious, and it sent the last of her doubts scattering. Nothing ever seemed wrong when she was in Reilly’s arms. All their differences in personality and life philosophy just melted away. All the distractions and demands of his profession disappeared. There was only the two of them and the love that was struggling to come to life between them.

  She arched against him like a cat and nipped at the cleft in his chin. “So kiss me, you aggravating Aussie.”

  “With pleasure,” Reilly murmured, tilting his head and lowering it toward hers.

  It was a sweet kiss. A kiss full of welcome and relief. Reilly gathered Jayne up against him and reveled in the feel of her in his arms. This was what he wanted, this sense of peace and contentment he knew only with Jayne. It was something that his career denied him. It was something he could no longer depend upon his family for. Only Jayne gave him this haven. It didn’t matter that she could be a complete flake. It didn’t matter that she kept a tarantula and thought her jewelry spoke to her. She was the woman who believed in him. She was the woman he loved.

  He lowered her to the blanket of clothes they had dropped on the ground. The clean, fertile scents of the forest filled his head, but overriding it was Jayne’s soft perfume. He buried his face between her breasts and drank the fragrance in, intoxicating himself with it. Trailing kisses from one taut nipple to the other, he sipped at the sweet taste of her, then took his mouth to hers and drank in the wine of her kiss.

  Jayne was filled with a pure joy unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She felt like Eve. Alone there with Reilly in the middle of the forest, it was as if they were the only people on earth. It seemed only right that they shed their clothing and were celebrating the wonders of life and love and nature.

  She gazed at Reilly, poised above her. He was the perfect example of the male of the species—strong, ruggedly masculine, handsome in a way that wasn’t quite civilized. She stroked her hand down his chest and across his quivering belly to the most masculine part of him. With her gaze locked on his, her small fingers closed around his shaft and guided him to her.

  They both gasped at the first touch of flesh to flesh. The gasps segued to groans as male hardness slid into the welcoming warmth of feminine silk. The groans trailed off into sighs at the first sensation of completion. They savored their union, kissing and touching and murmuring words of love. Then need urged them off the first plateau and made them reach for a higher one.

  Reilly reached his climax first, clutching Jayne to him as the explosion rocked him, blinding him to everything else except bliss. When the tremors subsided, he rolled onto his back and urged Jayne to take her own pleasure. He watched as she moved on him, her every expression crossing her face like scenes on a movie screen.

  She was so open, so honest in her lovemaking, simply watching her aroused him all over again. Gripping her slender waist with his big hands, he lifted his hips to meet her as she slid down on him.

  Jayne groaned Reilly’s name over and over, faster and faster, in time with their movements, until the tension coiling inside her burst, flooding her with fulfillment and love. Exhausted, she collapsed on his chest, her cheek pressing against his sweat-dampened skin.

  Reilly wrapped his arms around her and pressed soft kisses to the top of her head. Lazily, Jayne traced patterns on his chest with her finger, her gaze fixed on the small gold key that dangled from her wrist and dragged along, catching in Reilly’s chest hairs.

  This seemed so perfect. Why wasn’t her faithful source confirming that feeling?

  “Are you happy now that you’ve had your way with me?” Reilly asked, his voice at once soft and rough, like corduroy.

  Jayne jerked her head around to look at him. Lord, he was sexy. His golden hair was tousled, his eyes were dark with sated passion. He looked perfectly at home, naked in the woods. She gave him a sassy look.

  “Maybe I’m not finished with you yet.”

  “Don’t let me rush you,” he said, stroking a hand down the supple line of her back and over the curve of her buttock. He pulled her tighter against his groin and groaned as her body responded by tightening around him. “I’m in no hurry.”

  Propping herself up on his chest with one arm, Jayne reached up and brushed at the bits of greenery that clung to his hair. Her expression turned wistful. “I wish it could always be like this.”

  Reilly didn’t have to ask what she meant. He would have wished it too, but it didn’t seem sensible. “We both have lives to lead, Jaynie,” he said softly, almost regretfully. “We’ve got jobs to do and people to answer to. We can’t shut the world out, and we can’t just watch it go by.”

  “I’m not just watching,” Jayne said in protest. Hurt, she pulled away from him and collected what clothing she could without trying to move Reilly. She jerked her blouse on and began fastening buttons. “I’m involved in life around Anastasia. I started the theater group. I took Candi in. I resent your saying I don’t do anything but watch. You make me sound like a voyeur.”

  “Aw, Jaynie, that’s not what I mean at all.” He sat up and pulled her back into his arms, ignoring her struggles to escape. He gave her a squeeze to still her, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “I just mean we can’t always have the world to ourselves. You don’t like the way the press intruded on our time. I don’t like it either, but that’s part of my life. As much as I’d love to stay in these hills with you, I have other obligations. I’ll have to go down to L.A. next week for the opening of Deadly Intent.”

  Jayne felt a chill go through her like a knife. “What about the play?”

  “What about it? I’ll miss one rehearsal. My understudy can walk through it.” He released her and began sorting through the rumpled, squished pile of clothes around him. Dismissing the topic of conversation, he stood up and pulled on his briefs and jeans.

  Jayne watched him, absently finishing dressing, her fingers fastening buttons and snaps while her brain concentrated on the horrible sensation of dread that was suddenly filling her stomach. “You’ll be back for opening night?”

  Reilly pulled an athletic sock off a bush and gave Jayne a strange look as he pulled it on. “Course
I’ll be back.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

  He shrugged as he pulled his shirt on. “Slipped my mind, I guess,” he muttered.

  “It slipped your mind?” Jayne’s voice rang with disbelief. “You’ve got a multimillion-dollar movie coming out next week and it slipped your mind?”

  “All right,” he conceded with a frustrated sigh. “Maybe I didn’t want to talk about Deadly Intent because I didn’t want to get another lecture from you on how I’m wastin’ my talent on movies that don’t mean anything.”

  Jayne nibbled on her thumbnail and said nothing. What could she say? If Deadly Intent proved to be anything like its predecessors, then it had indeed been a waste of Reilly’s considerable talents. But she also knew he’d had his reasons for choosing the scripts he had. She couldn’t fault him for being loyal to his family and his friends.

  “Truth to tell, it never slipped my mind,” Reilly mumbled, jamming his shirttail into his jeans. “The director is a pal of mine. He owns a piece of the film, and he needs the thing to do big at the box office.”

  Jayne listened, torn between love and suspicion. She loved the man who made sacrifices for the people he cared about. She was suspicious of the actor who dropped this kind of information ever so skillfully on the ears of a prominent film critic. And she hated herself for her doubts. She wished with all her might for some kind of sign to assure her that Pat Reilly wouldn’t play on her sympathies, then blithely break her heart. She hooked two fingers through the chain of her bracelet, hoping against hope for some special feeling, but nothing happened.

  Reilly caught the action and frowned. He didn’t like the way Jayne took such stock in things like premonitions and karma and all that other crap, but her convictions were a vital part of who she was. A man had to take the bad with the good, he supposed. And there was a lot of good in his Jaynie.

  “No more talkin’ business,” he declared, closing the distance between them and dropping a kiss on Jayne’s downturned lips. “We’re not likely to agree on it, and that’s that. We came up here to enjoy the scenery and each other. So,” he said, flashing her his famous Cheshire-cat smile, “if you’ve enjoyed me enough for the moment, we can hit the trail, Calamity Jayne.”

  Jayne looked up at him, trying her best to shake the heavy mood that was pressing down on her chest like a stone. “I love you,” she said, needing to hear the words. She managed a tiny scrap of a smile. “You’re obnoxious, but I love you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Reilly said sardonically as he pulled on his hat. “Flattery.”

  True to his word, Reilly didn’t mention business again that day. While Jayne couldn’t stop part of her brain from worrying and wondering, she did her best to ignore it and to immerse herself in the experience of camping in beautiful surroundings with the man she loved. She threw herself wholeheartedly into the spirit of the great outdoors, even though it was readily apparent she knew nothing about camping and wasn’t particularly outdoorsy.

  “I don’t understand why you bought all this campin’ gear, luv,” Reilly said, gesturing with his tin coffee cup to the dome-shaped tent and other paraphernalia. “I dare say, you’re not cut out for the pioneer life.”

  He was stretched out on his side near the campfire. Twilight was closing in around them. Jayne’s heart beat a little harder while she was looking at him. He seemed so relaxed, so within his element. It was another difference between them, but not one that bothered her overmuch. She was glad to see Reilly spiritually centered and at peace with himself.

  She took a sip of the tea she had brewed for herself, resolutely refusing to acknowledge, even to herself, how bad it was. “I figured I could learn. I wanted to commune with the true spirits of nature.”

  For once, Reilly didn’t try to argue with her. “It’s a beautiful place to do that,” he said wistfully. “It’s kinda like home in some ways.”

  “Do you miss Australia?” Jayne asked, the note of homesickness in his voice catching at her heart.

  “Some,” he admitted, thinking about the sheep station, his family, and old friends. The memories were good, but he knew nothing would be the same if he tried to go back. People looked at him differently now, expected different things of him than they had when he’d been his father’s foreman. There was too much truth in the old saw that says you can’t go home again, he thought sadly. “My life is here now, in the States.”

  He almost added “with you,” but he didn’t think this was the time to push. Jayne had been too skittish of late. Besides, he had it all planned out, the when and the where. There were details that needed to fall into place before he would feel ready to make Jayne his for good.

  He tossed the last of his coffee onto the dying fire, stood up, and stretched. “It’s been a long day, luv. Let’s turn in.”

  Jayne eyed the tent and nibbled on her thumbnail. She said nothing as they put the fire out and checked on the animals. But when Reilly opened the tent flap and motioned for her to precede him inside, she balked. Old fears sprang to life inside her and panic grabbed at her throat. She made one attempt to go inside the little blue nylon dome, but shot back out the instant her head was between the panels of the door.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, so embarrassed she couldn’t even look at Reilly. Tears sprang up in her luminous dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  “Jaynie, what is it?” he asked with genuine concern. He dropped the tent flap and coaxed Jayne into his embrace. She was trembling.

  “You’ll laugh,” Jayne said dismally.

  “I won’t, I promise. You know I always keep my promises.”

  Silent, Jayne hugged him. He might think she was a kook, but he’d said he wouldn’t laugh, and she believed him. “I’m claustrophobic,” she admitted in a tiny voice. “I thought I could handle the tent because it’s outside and all, but …”

  Claustrophobic, Reilly thought as he stroked a hand over the wild tangle of Jayne’s hair. That explained the enormous house that was all windows and no walls. It also explained the huge bed that had no headboard or footboard. It probably explained her convertible car as well.

  “I accidentally got locked in a closet once when I was little,” Jayne explained, shuddering at the memory. “You think it’s silly for me to still be afraid, I know, just like you think my beliefs in karma and auras are silly.”

  “I don’t think you’re silly. Not about this, anyway,” he said. He gave her a gentle smile when she scowled at him. “I know what it’s like to be afraid, luv. I know what it is to need a friend’s support. I dare say we’re friends.”

  Tears of love flooded Jayne’s eyes. He could be a truly wonderful man. “Best friends,” she said with a smile of gratitude.

  Reilly dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and winked. “Wait here.”

  Without another word, he went into the tent and dragged out the down-filled double sleeping bag and the pillows, arranged them where they would have the best view of the last colors of twilight and the moon hanging high above the horizon in the dark part of the sky. When he opened his arms in invitation, Jayne went willingly and snuggled against him.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind not using the tent?”

  Reilly made a face. “Who needs a tent? You can’t see the stars from inside a tent, now, can you?”

  Jayne’s only reply was to hug him. As long as she had Reilly nearby, she thought, she would always be able to see a star.

  TEN

  SOMETHING TERRIBLE WAS going to happen.

  Jayne shuddered as the belief surged through her again. It had first descended on her in the middle of the night. She had awakened from a disturbing dream, sitting bolt upright and jerking half the sleeping bag up with her. An icy fear had lodged itself in the center of her chest, radiating waves of aching cold through her, down her arms and legs. But the most conclusive evidence had been her bracelet.

  The gold links had pressed warmly to her skin, the
key hanging from it with the weight of an anchor. After weeks of lying dormant, the power within it had finally come to life. Jayne had hooked two fingers through the chain, and shivered as the premonition came to her.

  Something terrible was going to happen.

  It was a horrible burden to know that and not tell anyone. Had she been home she would have shared the news with Bryan; he would have understood her concern, at least. But she couldn’t tell Reilly. Reilly didn’t believe in premonitions. He lived in blissful ignorance of that other plane of understanding, the lucky bugger.

  When he had awakened and asked her what was wrong, she’d told him she’d had a bad dream. His solution had been to make long, slow, passionate love to her. Not a bad distraction, she had to admit, but hardly the answer she needed.

  It was depressing. After a lovely day of forgetting about the rest of the world, of drinking in the scenery and making love with Reilly, this black premonition had descended and ruined everything. She had spent the morning wondering about the meaning of it all. Why did her life path seem destined to collide with Reilly’s only to part? What did their karmas ultimately have in store for them?

  Now, as they trudged west in ominous silence toward her farm, Jayne hooked her fingers through the bracelet again, and again felt that horrible shiver of anticipation. She didn’t know what. She didn’t know when. She didn’t know where. But something terrible was going to happen.

  “That does it,” Reilly said, temper clipping his words apart. He stopped in his tracks, yanking his hat off and throwing it down on the ground in frustration.

  Pinafore promptly sat down. Rowdy gave one aggravated bark, then dropped down on the ground and put his head on his paws.

  Jayne pulled Jodhpur to a halt and turned wide eyes on Reilly. “What?”

  “What?” He huffed an irritated sigh, his dark golden brows riding low over eyes that were as blue as the sky. He hitched his hands to the waistband of his jeans, hunching his shoulders aggressively. “You’ve been goin’ around all day twistin’ at that bloody chain, lookin’ like the end of the world was at hand. I want to know why. What’s goin’ on here, Jaynie?”