Nowhere to Run

by Suzanne Brockmann

  Jim locked their fingers together to keep her from slipping away. He stared down at their intertwined hands.

  “You’ll be there, so I’ll be safe,” she said with total conviction.

  Safe. Like the last time she’d gone out with Delmore, and he and Phil had lost her?

  “What’ll you do if he wants an answer to his marriage proposal?” he asked quietly.

  She was ready for that. “I’ll tell him I need more time.”

  No. Every nerve in his body was screaming no, he shouldn’t let her talk him into this. But, damn it, she was making sense. They were so close. And what could Delmore do to Emily in the middle of a high-society cocktail party?

  The problem was, with Jim’s experience working on the streets, he could think of quite a few nasty things Delmore could do, party or no party. But Jim would be there, to watch over Emily, to protect her…

  Emily slipped her arms around his waist, standing on her toes to kiss him lightly. Her breath was warm against his face, her body fitting his perfectly. “If we don’t find the evidence we need to catch Alex tomorrow, then I’ll think about quitting, okay?” She kissed him again, longer this time.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” he said.

  She smiled into his eyes, running her fingers through the soft curls of his hair. “Is it working?”

  “Yeah,” he said, kissing her full on the mouth, pulling her in closer to him. It was working.

  SATURDAY DAWNED bright and sunny—the perfect kind of day for a sail on a millionaire drug runner’s yacht.

  Jim woke up early and lay quietly in bed, watching Emily sleep beside him.

  Tangled in the sheets, damp with perspiration from the relentless summer heat which even the air conditioners and the permanently turning ceiling fans couldn’t relieve, Emily lay in the bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow. Her eyes were closed, and her lashes were long and dark against the soft curve of her cheeks. She looked so young and innocent, so pure and perfect. He loved her so much, he ached inside.

  Was this the way Bob had loved Molly?

  They’d been childhood sweethearts, his brother Bob and his wife, Molly. Bob had never even dated anyone else. He’d sworn up and down that he’d been in love with Molly since fourth grade. He’d always looked at Molly with such feeling in his eyes, declaring that they were two of the lucky ones to have found the kind of love they shared.

  Molly had spent the past eight years alone, with only her little daughter, Shannon, by her side.

  Molly was alone.

  Bob was forever alone.

  So what gave Jim the right to have Emily?

  He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her, exiling himself to the solitude and heat of the back porch.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EMILY SWIRLED the ice cubes around the bottom of her empty glass, aware of Jim’s eyes on her from the other side of Alex’s yacht.

  Alex deftly took the glass from her hands and smoothed back her hair to place a well-aimed kiss underneath her ear. “I’ll get you another drink,” he said with a charming smile.

  “Thanks.” Emily made herself relax and return his smile. She glanced back across the deck as Alex walked toward the bar, but Jim wasn’t there any longer.

  “This is hell,” a soft voice whispered in her ear, and she looked up to see him standing directly behind her.

  Dressed the way he was, in a black tuxedo with a white shirt and black bow tie, with his hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, he looked incredible. His eyes glittered like blue ice—no, not ice, fire. As a matter of fact, she’d seen that same look in his eyes this morning, when they’d made love—after she’d woken up alone again, and gone out to find him sitting, again, on the back porch.

  Something was wrong between them. But whenever she asked, he shrugged it off and wouldn’t talk about it. It didn’t have to do with the fact that he feared for her safety—he was more than willing to talk about that. No, there was something else bothering him, something eating away at him. But he wouldn’t tell her what it was.

  And that scared her.

  Still, Emily had shut her eyes and played along this past week, pretending they were idyllic, blissful lovers, trying to believe Jim when he told her that he loved her. But the fact that he was holding something back kept her wary.

  She hadn’t told him that she loved him—at least not in words. She was afraid to. She was afraid saying it out loud would leave her vulnerable and unguarded. She was afraid of getting hurt again.

  Emily knew Jim wanted to hear those words. She knew from the way he whispered of his own love for her, then watched her, waiting for some kind of response, some kind of reply. But she couldn’t do it. Saying “I love you, too,” would ring false. And to declare her emotions at any other time seemed too risky, too frightening.

  But she did love him. Desperately. Just looking into his eyes like this could make her heart pound.

  Emily quickly looked away, afraid that if she held his gaze too long people might notice the sensual flame that seemed to spark between them. Jim was playing the part of her brother, for crying out loud.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Emily murmured.

  “I can’t help it,” he muttered. “You look too damn good. And it’s driving me nuts, the way he’s touching you all the time. Why’d I let you talk me into this?”

  “Because stopping Alex is the right thing to do. When are you going to try to get into his office?” Emily asked quietly.

  “I’ve already tried once,” Jim answered. “There’s too many people around. I need some kind of diversion.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know—something big. A school of blue whales off the starboard bow,” Jim said. “A meteor shower. A tidal wave. A falling UFO.”

  On the other side of the deck, Alex was talking to Marty Bevin and her husband.

  “How about an engagement announcement?” Emily said.

  “No,” Jim said sharply. “Emily, don’t do that.”

  If she went over to Alex now, in front of Marty, and told him she was accepting his marriage proposal, all hell would break loose. It wouldn’t be quite as big as a falling UFO, but…

  Jim caught her arm, trying hard to keep his voice low, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being watched. “I don’t want you even to pretend that you’re gonna marry this guy.”

  “It would do the trick,” she said. Emily forced herself to smile at a man and woman who were strolling a little too close to them.

  Jim waited until the pair were out of earshot before he spoke. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I want you to marry me.”

  His words seemed to surprise himself as much as they surprised Emily. She stared at him staring back at her, both pairs of eyes widening in shock. Jim forced his face to relax and turned, leaning back on the railing with his elbows. To the casual observer, they were having a lighthearted chat.

  Emily turned away, using the smooth wooden deck railing to support the weight that her knees suddenly couldn’t hold. Jim wanted to marry her.

  She looked out over the ocean. The water reflected the lights from the yacht. They sparkled and shimmered like diamonds in the darkness. He wanted to marry her. She felt tears sting her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them back.

  “Are you asking?” Emily finally said. Her voice was calm and cool, matching the poised set of her gaze. He would never know how she’d braced herself before looking up at him.

  “No,” he growled, his answer so abrupt and immediate that she actually flinched.

  She started to turn away.

  “Yes, damn it,” he rasped. He turned his back on anyone who might have been watching them and closed his eyes briefly. “Yes, I’m asking.”

  A war of emotions was raging across his lean face. Terror fought exhilaration, shock went head-to-head with love and hope, as he pinned her to the spot with the intensity of his gaze.

 
“Say something,” he breathed, then added, “No, don’t. Em, you don’t have to answer right away. You don’t have to answer at all if you don’t want—”

  The battle was over—love had won, hands down. She could see it in the achingly desperate vulnerability in his eyes. He loved her. Whatever problems he was having, whatever it was that was tormenting him, whatever he was holding back from her, it wasn’t that he didn’t love her.

  Jim forced himself to take a step back, to loosen the tightness in his shoulders. Damn it, this wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation.

  “Why wait to give you an answer,” Emily said then, her voice shaking, “when I know I’d marry you in a split second?”

  “You would?” he whispered, searching her face for the reasons, for the declaration he needed to hear.

  On the off chance that he couldn’t read it on her face, that he couldn’t see it in the sheen of tears that glimmered in her eyes, Emily said it. Out loud. “I love you.”

  Jim turned away, afraid that if he didn’t he’d give in to the temptation to take Emily into his arms. He gripped the deck railing so hard his knuckles turned white. He cleared his throat, glancing around to be sure he wouldn’t be overheard. “What do you say we jump overboard, swim to land, and I make love to you for the next two weeks straight?”

  He looked at her with such fire in his eyes that Emily nearly felt burned.

  She took a deep breath. “What do you say I go create a diversion?” she whispered. “You go play James Bond and find the evidence we need to put Alex behind bars, and then we’ll go home and make love for the next two weeks straight?”

  Jim glanced over his shoulder at Alex Delmore, who was still deep in conversation with his friends. “I’m going to have to smile when I congratulate Delmore on catching you as his bride,” he said, his mouth tight. He met Emily’s eyes. “Later, you can give me an Oscar for my award-winning acting performance.”

  She smiled. “I’ll give you something later,” she said, almost inaudibly, “but it won’t be an Oscar.”

  Jim smiled then, too—a quick flash of white teeth in the shadows. “Oh, baby.”

  “You better believe it,” Emily said. “Now go. But be careful.”

  “You too, Em.”

  With one more look deep into her eyes, Jim disappeared toward the stern of the yacht. Emily took a steadying breath, plastered a smile on her face and headed toward Alex.

  He looked up and smiled apologetically as she approached. “I’m sorry, were you getting thirsty?” Alex asked, handing her the drink he was holding in his left hand.

  “You look radiant tonight, Emily,” Marty commented, taking a long drag on her cigarette. “Who’s the hunk you were talking to before?”

  “Um…” Emily said. Dan, not Jim. God, she had to remember that. She’d almost called him Jim.

  Marty’s eyes narrowed, as if she’d somehow picked up on Emily’s apprehension. “You’re not playing around on our little Alex now, are you?” she said with mock outrage.

  “That was my brother,” Emily said, keeping her voice light. “Dan. He’s here visiting for a few weeks. I told you about him, remember?”

  “That was big brother Dan?” Marty said. “My, my…Good looks run in the family, don’t they?”

  Emily frowned at her drink, knowing with certainty that Alex, in his role as the impeccable host, would notice.

  “Is there something wrong with your drink?” he asked.

  Emily took a deep breath. Here goes. “Actually,” she said with a smile, “I was thinking champagne might be more appropriate tonight.”

  Alex understood instantly—she could tell from the sudden smug satisfaction in his eyes. “I’ve got enough champagne on board to go around,” he said. “How about I tell my crew to start opening it?”

  “Are we celebrating something?” Marty asked eagerly.

  “Emily’s just agreed—” Alex broke off and turned back to Emily. “That was a yes, wasn’t it?”

  She forced herself to smile brightly. “Yes, it was.”

  Comprehension dawned in Marty’s eyes. She screamed, loud and shrill and long, causing heads to turn. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” she shrieked. “Alex is getting married!”

  Marty engulfed Emily in a smoky embrace as a crowd gathered around them. Partygoers came running from all ends of the yacht as the first bottle of champagne was popped open. Jim had his diversion.

  “Congratulations,” someone said, pumping her hand. “You must be very happy.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Emily replied, able to say with heartfelt honesty, “I am.”

  Because she was getting married.

  But not to Alex.

  “I THINK,” Alex said, trailing one finger along the line of the sapphire necklace that Emily had finally accepted, “now that you’ve consented to be my wife, we should celebrate.”

  Alex’s pale eyes were heavy and reddened from wine and cigarette smoke. He’d finally taken his contact lenses out, and his nearsightedness made him squint at her slightly. Emily tried not to visibly back away, but she wanted to. Boy, she wanted to. And wearing this necklace was giving her the creeps. She couldn’t wait to take it off. But after she agreed to marry Alex, there had been no way she could refuse it. The sapphire necklace had finally become an appropriate gift. At least she could be grateful Alex didn’t have some enormous, even more expensive diamond ring ready to slip onto her finger.

  She looked around the yacht. Most of the party guests were gone. The Home Free had been docked at the pier for close to two hours now, and only a few of Alex’s friends lay sprawled on the lounge chairs that peppered the deck. Emily was well aware of Jim, not more than a few yards away, leaning against the wooden railing, grimly watching Alex touch her.

  “We just had a party,” Emily said lightly. “That was a great way to celebrate.”

  “I was thinking of something a little more…private,” Alex said with a lopsided grin.

  He was drunk. He kissed her—or he tried to, anyway. Emily moved her head so that his mouth landed on her cheek. Her eyes met Jim’s. She could see the muscles working in his jaw. He stood up and walked toward them.

  “It’s late,” he said. “Time to go.”

  Alex threw his arm around Emily’s shoulders. “Well, hey, Dan,” he said. “You heading out?”

  “We’re heading out,” Jim said. “Emily and I.”

  “We were just discussing that,” Alex said. “Emily’s going to stay here tonight, so you can run on along home.”

  Jim shook his head. “Call me old-fashioned,” he said, “but Emily’s not staying with you. You’re not married yet.”

  Alex laughed. “Is this guy for real?” he asked Emily.

  She slipped free from his grip. “Oh, yeah,” she said, with a smile at Jim—her first real smile in hours. “He’s real.”

  JIM WAS SILENT in the car on the way home.

  “Did you find out anything?” Emily finally asked.

  He glanced up from the road and over at her. His face was lit in a pattern of darkness and then light as they passed under the streetlights.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  Silence.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

  He glanced at her again, his eyes colorless in the darkness. “I hated him kissing you,” he said tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said softly.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s over now,” she said. She took off the sapphire necklace and dropped it into the bottom of her bag. She was going to donate it to the high school’s drug education program as soon as this charade was over.

  Jim laughed in exasperation. “Oh, yeah?” he said. “Wait’ll you see what happens tomorrow. Your engagement to Delmore will make the morning society news, and by eleven-thirty every high-class department store in the state will be calling you, trying to get you signed up with their bridal whatchamacallit. You know, register you for wedding presents.” He braked as t
hey approached a red light. He put the car into first gear and turned to look at Emily as they waited for the light to change to green. “It’ll be a different world if you marry me, you know? Hell, the way my friends buy presents, it’ll be safest to register down at Wal-Mart.”

  “Do you really think I care?”

  There were no other cars on the road, behind them or even in front of them. Jim ignored the light as it turned green. He touched Emily’s face, gently skimming her lips with his thumb. “I want to give you all that stuff, Em,” he said quietly. “I want to give you fancy jewelry, too, but I can’t. Do you hear what I’m saying? There’s a lot I can’t give you, a lot you’ll be missing.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Right now, she didn’t care. But how about in a year or two? How about in ten years? How about when they scraped and struggled to put their kids through college—if he even lived that long.

  This was definitely a mistake. Emily didn’t deserve this kind of future. And as far as what he deserved…

  The light was red again. He went through it anyway, hoping that if they were moving, Emily would stop watching him that way, with her eyes so soft and gentle, as if she could see down deep within him. He didn’t have to wonder if she saw all his scars and all the permanently torn and tattered places in his soul. He knew she did. And despite that, she still loved him. It was too damn amazing.

  It made his chest feel tight and his eyes burn, and he changed the subject. He had to. If he continued even just thinking about the love in Emily’s eyes, he’d lose control.

  In another five minutes, they’d be back at Emily’s apartment. Once they were inside, he could lose control. And he would. He’d do more than lose control—he’d lose himself, he’d bury himself deep inside Emily. He could let all these intense, crazy feelings loose when they made love. He could give in to his emotions, he could let himself be overwhelmed. And he’d be able to tell Emily all about the way he was feeling. He’d tell her with his mouth and his hands and his body. He’d tell her far more eloquently than he ever could with words.