by Caro LaFever
“Actually, I’m not sorry.” Her voice turned hard once more. “You deserved it.”
“Spit it out, Jessie.” Holding the napkin to his throbbing cheek, he tried to keep his temper even. “Tell me what you found.”
“You know precisely what I found.”
“Sí, I suppose I do. Much to my regret.” He grabbed the ring and slid it into his pocket, knowing she would throw it at him again if he offered it to her at this moment. “The contract I signed with your damned father stating I had to marry you, correct?”
The green-blue-brown of her eyes went as bleak as the Mojave Desert. “You bastard.”
“I am that, if not literally, then figuratively. Absolutamente.” He dropped his gaze to the napkin, unable to hold her accusing stare any longer. “I mean to make it up to you.”
She snorted again. “As if you could.”
“I will.” The words were as solemn as his vow of marriage to this woman. If it was the last thing he did in his life, he would make her see herself the way he did.
Blazing. Demanding. Goddess.
“I won’t give you the chance.” She threw the words at him like bullets. “As soon as we land, I’m going to my lawyers.”
Just as he expected. He knew her well. But luckily, she didn’t know half of how cunning he could be when backed into a corner. “You think so?”
“Yes. I’m going to get a divorce.”
“Are you?” He slid back in his seat, trying to control the rage the simple words produced in his gut. “You will lose your precious hotels. Have you thought of that?”
Agony crossed her face for a moment and he almost lost the grasp on his control. Before he could leap to her side and take her into his arms, though, resolve replaced the agony. “I never had them to lose.”
“They are yours.” His anger flamed at her father.
“No, they never were.” Her mouth twisted. “And I’m all right with that.”
“Don’t lie to me.” No longer able to stay away from her, he rose. “Your hotels are as much a part of you as your beautiful hair.”
“Beautiful.” Another female snort. “Do you know that was how I described you in my mind as soon as I met you?”
“Was it?” He took a chance and took a step toward her. “Gracias.”
Jerking away, she crossed her arms, her hands in fists, rejection written all over her. “I didn’t know it was a lie, that beauty.”
“Jessie, por favor—”
“Everything was a lie, wasn’t it?” She didn’t allow the hurt to show, but he sensed it nevertheless. Sensed how far he’d cut into her heart with his careless overconfidence.
The knowledge sank into him like an ugly blanket of guilt. Charming words and cajoling pleas disappeared.
“Lo siento,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Her scorn filled the cabin. “Sorry for lying? Sorry for fooling me? Sorry for making me believe?”
Chapter 29
Créeme.
The memory of the word pounded in her head, said in his light, husky accent. His lie.
Believe me.
Believe that I want you. Believe that I love you. Believe that I want to marry you.
All lies.
Jess scowled at the man who’d given her confidence, real confidence in her body and beauty for the first time, and then, in one stroke of his pen on a contract, destroyed it.
And her.
He stood silent before her. Really, what was there to say? He could say a thousand things, coo a million compliments, and she’d never believe him again.
Créeme.
Her heart wept for the loss of her belief in this man and herself. Before she started weeping real tears, she turned and marched to the end of the plane. She supposed she could check with the pilot and make sure what Nick told her was true, but her body felt limp. That meant she had slept for hours. Apparently, emotional distress did that to her—an escape from reality. In any event, she was on her way back to the US and her lawyers. What did it matter if she had to ignore her soon-to-be-ex-husband for a couple of more hours of her life?
Plopping onto another leather seat, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She sucked in a breath when she saw the time. Yes, she’d been asleep for hours. Which meant she only had a few more hours with Nick. Interminable, impossible hours.
“Can we talk?” His tone was plaintive.
It was so unlike him, against her will, she looked up. To her relief, he hadn’t followed her. “No.”
The rejection was as much for herself as him. She couldn’t allow him to start talking, because she knew herself. Knew how vulnerable she was. She would not let herself fall for any of his machinations. Nothing he could do or say would change her mind. Still, it was best to not even give him a chance.
He didn’t deserve any more chances from her.
He stared at her, those blue eyes of his dark and fierce, intent. She braced herself for another of his lures, but he surprised her by sitting back down on his seat in the front of the plane.
Releasing a tense breath, she tried to relax.
Stop thinking about him. Think about your future, instead.
Losing him and the hotels wasn’t the end of her world. She knew her dad would leave the bulk of his fortune to her, if nothing else. She could start over. She could buy her own hotels. True, she’d never find a man like Nick Townsend again, not one who spoke in a sexy accent and danced with her in the moonlight. That didn’t mean she couldn’t survive and flourish without him.
To hell with him. And yes, to hell with her father, too.
Thoughts and emotions swirled in her head and heart for the hours and hours they flew. Jess didn’t let herself fall asleep, because she didn’t want to let her guard down when Nick was around. Instead, she pinned her gaze on the billowing clouds and watched the sun slide into view as they flew toward the light. The attendant came through with coffee and food. She declined the food and drank the coffee.
Her soon-to-be ex-husband stayed away. So did her tears.
Thank God.
By the time the plane dipped below the cloud cover to show the dry, dusty land beneath, she was ready to jump out of her body. Although he’d stayed away, she still felt his powerful presence surrounding her. She could practically taste his skin and smell his scent. She was being stupid and fanciful, but she wanted to exit this plane as soon as possible.
“We’ll be landing in a few minutes,” the attendant said to her, a wary smile on her face as she glanced from Jess to Nick. “Did you want anything to drink, Ms. McDowell?”
“Mrs. Townsend.” A clipped, accented voice drifted down the aisle.
The claim was absurd after their last argument. He must want her hotels with a passion she’d only spotted when he was in bed to keep going at this marriage like it meant something to him.
Thrusting the effect his voice had on her away, Jess smiled at the attendant. “I’m fine.”
“Private airstrips can be a bit tricky,” the attendant confided. “So you’ll want to make sure to buckle up.”
Private airstrips?
Wait a minute.
Dry, dusty land. Not the ocean and beaches of Los Angeles. She put her focus back to the window and inspected the landscape. No towns or cities or civilization. Only the vast expanse of desert below. A thick wall of clouds loomed in the west, and a sudden spat of sleet hit the plexiglass. What was he thinking, flying into the desert when clearly, a storm was approaching?
Jerking to a stand, she paced down the aisle to his side. “What have you done?”
He glanced at her, his gaze bland. “I have done what you wanted me to do. I have stayed away.”
“Where are we landing?” she snapped. “Where are we going?”
“We.” His celestial-blue eyes gleamed. “I like that word.”
“You fucking bastard.” Her hands tightened into fists, and she thought about using violence for the first time in her life.
&nbs
p; “Well,” he mused. “I did admit to the bastard part. And I have fucked you many times.”
“I hate you so—”
“Every one of them was the best time in my life, by the way.” He smiled, and amazingly, the smile lit his eyes, too.
If she still believed in him, she’d believe that was a real smile. But she didn’t. “Tell me right now, where—”
“Mrs. Townsend.” The attendant beckoned from the rear of the plane as she sat in one of the seats. “You’ll need to sit and buckle in, please.”
Nick’s smile turned into a grin.
Growling her disgusted anger at him, she swiveled and stomped back down the aisle.
The plane drifted across the desert, coming closer and closer to land. Jess couldn’t spot an airport or a city anywhere. What the hell? Right before the wheels hit the tarmac, she saw the simple runaway. Out in the middle of nowhere.
What was Nick doing?
He was kidnapping her, damn him. He was actually kidnapping her, and unless she raised a ruckus with the attendant and pilot, there wasn’t anything she could do.
For the moment.
The private jet came to a slow stop. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband stood, grabbing his silk suit coat and slipping it on. The pilot exited the cockpit and murmured a few words to the bustling attendant before unlocking the cabin door to the outside.
A blast of cold air and snow slammed into the interior.
Jess stewed in her seat, wondering where they were, and what she should do. Should she demand the pilot get rid of Nick and fly her to LA or New York City? After all, she’d been the one to lease this damn jet. Yet, by the look the pilot exchanged with her kidnapper, he wouldn’t listen to her at all.
Her cunning tempter glanced her way, his expression blank. “Time to go before the storm hits.”
“I’m staying here,” she announced. “I don’t know where this is, but if you want to stay in this godforsaken place, that’s fine with me. I’m leaving with the pilot and the plane.”
“Godforsaken place.” A short bark of a laugh came from him. “You might feel differently once you see the ranch.”
The ranch?
Memories flooded her brain. His love for country music. The drawl he sometimes fell into that sounded real. The way he’d gazed at the scenery when they’d had their picnic.
What ranch?
Battling her curiosity, she glared at him. “Leave this plane so we can takeoff.”
“I’m afraid I can’t fly in this weather, Mrs. Townsend,” the pilot said, a frown on his face as he looked through the open door at the barren land. “I’ve been told by your husband that we can wait out the storm at the ranch.”
“I’m not Mrs. Townsend,” she stated. “And he’s not my husband.”
The pilot and attendant both glanced away, as if trying to pretend they weren’t in the middle of a squalid fight.
“You’re still my wife,” Nick said, an edge of threat in his tone. “Get off the plane, Jessie.”
“No.” Determined and desperate, she snuggled deeper into her seat. “I’ll stay here until the storm passes.”
Another soft chuckle came from him, this time filled with menace instead of amusement. “You’re willing to camp out here for days?”
“Days?” She glanced through the window again to realize that in the short time they’d been here, the sky had turned a ghostly white in the west. Thick snowflakes flew in the air, promising more to come. “A storm doesn’t last for days.”
With a few strides, he landed next to her seat. Leaning in, his expression turned from menacing to long-suffering. “There’s a blizzard coming. Out in the desert, that’s nothing to fool with. You won’t be safe here, so if I have to carry you screaming from this plane, you’re coming with me to the ranch.”
“What ranch?” She drew back from him, breathing through her mouth so his spicy, wicked scent wouldn’t distract her.
“My family’s ranch.” With a blink of his eyes, charm replaced toughness. “Come on, Ginger Snap. Come and see.”
His family? But she’d met his family in Las Vegas, and none of them had struck her as a cowboy type. Plus, she didn’t trust this man now. “I won’t come with you.”
The tough look turned hard as stone. Coming closer, he dropped his hands on her seat arms, effectively boxing her in. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on your body for hours,” he snarled. “Tempt me any more, and you’re going to regret it.”
Jess saw his intention in those blue eyes. He wanted her to keep fighting. He wanted to grab her and force her to get off this plane. The angry man had returned, and she knew him well enough to know it was better to not fight at the moment.
Later, though, she would. She pledged to herself.
“You’re an ugly, disgusting devil of a man,” she hissed.
“Sí.” He jerked back as if she’d hit him. “You are correct. I told you exactly that quite a few times, haven’t I?”
She stared at him, stunned at what she saw. Layered on top of the anger simmering in his eyes was complete acceptance of her accusation. Complete and utter belief in his essential evil.
Nick had tricked her and lied. But he wasn’t all bad. Was he?
“Are you coming?” His voice had returned to the calm, cool tone he used when he concealed himself.
The realization upset her. And being upset with him only made her more agitated. She shouldn’t care enough to be upset. “No, I’m not.”
“Dios joder al infierno.” His curse ricocheted through the plane.
Both the pilot and the attendant jumped.
“Ma’am.” The pilot’s expression turned pained, and also, determined. “I really must insist you get off this plane. I can’t be held liable for what will happen to you during the storm.”
Unlike the Spanish swearing, this argument did move her to reconsider. Jess stared through the window and decided. Yes, she’d likely have to spend time with her soon-to-be-ex, but the alternative of death didn’t appeal. The choice was close, yet certain. “All right. I’ll follow you.”
Turning around without another word, Nick paced down the aisle and through the plane’s doorway.
She grabbed her purse, ignored the encouraging nods of the pilot and attendant, and walked out into the storm.
Because it had become a storm. In a remarkably short time, snow had blanketed the black runway and changed the brown, barren land into a white canvas of nothing. Stumbling down the metal staircase that some unknown and unseen person had rolled to the plane’s door, she landed on the tarmac, shivering with instant cold. The light sweater and skirt she’d worn in the Tasmanian summer did nothing to protect her from the wailing wind.
“Morning, Nick.” A laconic voice came from the open window of a Jeep parked at the side of the plane. “Picked a damn fine day to make your first visit in years.”
Her husband strode to the car and peered in. “Jackson, you old son of a gun.”
It was the drawl again. That cowboy drawl which was such a contrast to the suave, seductive man who lived in casinos and wore silk suits. Jess wrapped her arms around her not only for the warmth, but to stop herself from reaching out for that man. That man who had held her with tenderness, who she’d trusted.
Who’d tricked her.
“Better hop in,” the unseen driver said. “Got maybe fifteen minutes to get to the ranch before it’s too late.”
“Is another car coming for the crew?”
“Yeah,” Jackson assured him. “Right behind me.”
Nick twisted around to beckon her, a look of focused concentration and concern on his face. “Come on, Jessie. Get in.”
Fear of his draw and fear of the unknown stirred inside her. “I’ll wait with the crew and drive with them. Plus, I need my suitcase. I’m assuming the crew will unload the luggage before they leave.”
His expression turned brutal. “El infierno que será.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but by the way he said it, she knew it was
another curse. Before she could rebut his anger and his words, though, he strode up and swung her into his arms. “Put me down!”
“Ninguna manera,” he muttered as he paced to the Jeep. “Entra.”
Again, she didn’t understand, still, she got the demand. Get in. The wind whistled around them, and through her clothes. He glared at her with open aggression as he plopped her on her feet.
The unseen driver chuckled. “Better do as he says, little lady. When Nick starts to speak in Spanish, he means business.”
When her unwanted husband spoke Spanish it meant he’d lost control of his emotions and was too passionate to be reasoned with. She knew that. Giving up, she scrambled into the car. A pile of wool blankets lay on the backseat, along with an old blue cooler on the floor. Pulling one of the blankets over her, she scuttled as far from Nick as she could.
He slammed the Jeep door behind him. “Let’s get going.”
“Yessiree.” A large, cream-colored cowboy hat was the only thing she could make out of the man sitting in front of her. With a jerk, he put the truck in gear.
They drove for miles in silence. Not a comfortable one of husband and wife, old friend to old friend. Rather, the atmosphere grew increasingly strained, almost agonizing. Jess kept her gaze on the horizon, wondering where this ranch was. On the outer strip of Mongolia? The wind whipped harder and harder, rocking the Jeep as it rumbled along a road she couldn’t even see. But this Jackson seemed to have no problem, his driving sure although progressively slower.
Nick sat silently beside her, not moving closer, as if he’d turned to stone. She didn’t chance a look at him, not wanting to care. They drove over a hill and down into a snow-covered valley.
A long wooden structure appeared from out of the fog and mist of the storm.
A soft sigh escaped him.
Surprised, she glanced across the seat.
His expression was like nothing she’d ever seen on his face. She’d thought she’d seen all his expressions—passionate, angry, calm, charming. This one was entirely different.
