He glanced back over his shoulder and saw a wild-maned ghost in a long white cotton nightgown. Letty's glasses were perched on her nose, making her look like a very serious, very intellectual sort of ghost. As she moved out into the weak moonlight, Joel saw that the long flounced nightgown was trimmed with a jaunty sailor collar and a red ribbon tied in a bow. The streamers of the ribbon drifted down the front of the gown.
The blue-white moonlight glinted on the lenses of her little round glasses and revealed the frowning disapproval on her face. Her gaze raked him from head to toe, taking in the fact that he was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. Joel wondered if she was about to rap his knuckles with a ruler.
“Don't worry. I'm not making off with the family silver,” he said. “I'm just going to take a run.”
“You're going running?” She stared at his bare chest as if she had never seen one before. “But it's the middle of the night. You can't be serious.”
“Trust me. I'm serious.” He slid open the glass door. The crisp air flowed over him like clear, cold water rinsing away the last images from the nightmare.
“Joel, wait. You can't go out there alone at this time of night.”
The patter of her bare feet on the hardwood floor stopped him. Joel reluctantly turned his head again. “What the hell's the matter, Letty? I'm just going to run. Go on back to bed and get some sleep.”
“I won't have it.” She scurried forward and came to a halt directly in front of him. “I can't let you do this, Joel.”
He studied her with growing curiosity. “Okay, I give up. Why can't you let me do this?”
Her eyes widened behind the lenses of her glasses. “Because it's dangerous, of course. What's the matter with you? Are you out of your mind? You can't go dashing about in an isolated area at this time of night. Anything could happen. Why, just the other day I saw an article about a series of murders in mountain campgrounds.”
Joel folded his arms across his chest, half amused in spite of his foul mood. “Did the article specify which campgrounds and where they were located?”
“Somewhere down in California, I think,” she mumbled. “But it hardly matters where it happened. The point is, it's dangerous to run around alone at night. There are a lot of crazy people in the world.”
“I can outrun them.”
“What about bears?” she shot back, undaunted. “Can you outrun a bear?”
“I don't know. I've never tried.”
“It's quite chilly out there,” Letty said.
“It's not that cold. I'll be warm enough once I start moving.”
“I read an article about some sort of horrible creature that lives in the mountains out here in the Pacific Northwest.” She looked a bit desperate now.
Joel nearly laughed. “You don't believe in Bigfoot, do you?”
“No, of course not. All the same, I think this is a very bad idea.”
Joel felt another wave of cold night air flow through the open door. “Your reservations on the subject are duly noted, Ms. Thornquist. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to run.”
She touched his arm, her fingers light and gentle. “I really wish you wouldn't. It's going to make me very uneasy.”
He shook his head, losing patience with her. He stepped out onto the deck and draped the towel over the railing. Letty came as far as the door. He scowled at her. “Damn it, I don't want to hear any more about this. Go on back to bed.”
Her chin came up at a stubborn angle. “No, I will not.”
He sighed. “What do you intend to do?”
“If you're going to insist on this foolishness, I'll keep watch from here. I can see a good portion of the road, and there's a full moon. I'll be able to keep an eye on you.”
Joel gazed at her in disbelief. “You're going to wait up for me?”
“I don't have much choice, do I? I couldn't possibly go back to bed and get any sleep knowing you're running around out there like a moving target in a shooting gallery.”
Joel gave up. “Suit yourself. I'm going to run.”
He loped down the steps without a backward glance. The crisp, clean night called to him, offering to blow away some of the anger and frustration that had been threatening to consume him all day.
He looked back once as he moved out in a long, easy stride. He could just barely make her out behind the sliding door. Her nose seemed pressed anxiously to the glass. For some reason she did not look like a prim little midwestern librarian in that moment. Instead, with her ghostly pale nightgown and her wild, tangled mane she seemed more like some fey creature of the night. There was an intriguing, sweet, rather innocent sensuality about her that Joel was finding increasingly disturbing.
Hell of a time to be thinking about sex.
He jerked his attention back to his running. What was the matter with him? he wondered grimly. Letty Thornquist was a major thorn in his side at the moment. He did not need to complicate an already difficult situation with sex.
Ms. Thornquist probably did not approve of sex, anyway. She had undoubtedly read an article that detailed the myriad dangers involved these days.
Hell, even he had read a few of those articles.
Joel ran easily on the edge of the blacktop road that paralleled the twisting river. When he looked down the steep embankment of the small gorge he could just barely make out the sheen of moving water. Charlie Thornquist had come up here often to fish in that river.
Joel gave himself over to the running, channeling his frustration into energy with a directed purpose. He could handle it as long as he did that. It was an old tactic, one he used whenever the restlessness deep within him reached the boiling point. Nights were always the worst times.
On the other hand, he reminded himself, nights were often the times when he saw things most clearly. Ideas that had been whirling around in the back of his mind for weeks would suddenly crystallize into a clear vision at night. Problems that appeared incredibly tangled during the day often unraveled at night.
Joel knew he did some of his best work at night. He had learned that some things, such as revenge, were best plotted in the dark hours before dawn.
And wouldn't the fact that he intended to use her company to destroy an old enemy shock the hell out of sweet, innocent little Ms. Letitia Thornquist? Joel grinned savagely to himself and ran harder.
By the time he turned and started back toward the house, he could feel the satisfying film of sweat on his shoulders and chest. His breathing was deep and strong and steady. The night air had acted like a sponge, soaking the remnants of the dream out of his mind. His brain began to function in a more disciplined manner.
All right, so there had been a minor setback in his plans. So Letty was coming to Seattle to take over Thornquist Gear. How long could it last? She would realize within a month that it was a lousy idea.
Letty knew nothing about business. He could arrange to keep her isolated and removed from the important stuff until she grew bored or confused. If he kept tabs on things, she would not be much more than a minor nuisance. She was bound to realize in short order that the best thing she could do was head back to her nice safe ivory tower job at Vellacott College.
No doubt about it. Within a month she would understand that she was out of her league. Within a month she would see that the smart thing to do was let Joel continue to run the company for the next year and then cash her out. She would end up with lots of money, and he would end up with Thornquist Gear.
Which was exactly how it should be.
In the meantime there was no reason why he could not proceed with his plans to crush Victor Copeland. No reason at all. Hell, Letty would never even have a clue to what was going on, and even if she did guess, Joel would simply tell her it was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a simple business maneuver. Companies like Thornquist took over outfits like Copeland Marine Industries every day and then liquidated them. Right down to the last outboard engine.
No big deal, Ms. Thornquist. This is known as busin
ess as usual. Welcome to the real world. If you don't like it, go on back to your ivory tower. Maybe if you ask very nicely, that fiancé of yours will take you back.
Joel frowned at that last thought. He wondered what sort of man Letty would welcome into her bed. The fiancé she had mentioned earlier was no doubt some stodgy, absent minded English lit professor. Joel tried to imagine the guy fumbling around politely under the covers while mentally reviewing his notes for the next day's lecture on the nineteenth-century novel.
Maybe Letty enjoyed discussing Austen or Thackeray while reaching orgasm.
That brought up the very interesting question of whether or not Ms. Thornquist had ever had an orgasm—a real climax, not some wimpy little release but the kind that would make her scream right out loud. The kind that would make her clutch at the man who was giving it to her and dig her little nails into his skin. That aura of innocence about her made him doubt it.
Joel groaned and pounded along the road with every bit of energy left in him.
The sweat was streaming off him in rivulets when he finally stopped running. He glanced ahead at the house as he slowed to a walk to cool down. Letty was no longer standing at the window. Perhaps she had decided to abandon him to his fate out here in the wilderness.
When his breathing had returned to normal and his pulse had slowed, Joel climbed the steps to the deck and picked up the towel he had left there. He felt in control again. With any luck he would be able to sleep for the rest of the night.
Wiping himself off with the towel, Joel opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside.
Letty was curled up on one of the white sofas. She stirred when Joel loomed over her.
“Oh, you're back.” Letty opened her eyes, yawning.
“Safe and sound, no thanks to you. Some guardian you turned out to be.” Joel found himself smiling. “I could have been violated and murdered out there and you would have slept through the whole thing.”
Letty considered that and then shook her head swiftly. “I might have slept through the murder part, but I doubt if I would have missed the sound of you being violated. Something tells me you would have made a lot of noise.”
Joel narrowed his eyes slightly in surprise. “Well, well, well. Are you always this witty in the middle of the night?”
“I wouldn't know. I'm rarely up at this hour.” She stared at him, unmoving. “How come you are?”
He shrugged. “I don't need a lot of sleep.”
“Everybody needs a good night's sleep. I read an article somewhere that said persistent insomnia should be investigated to rule out the possibility of a health problem.”
Joel grinned slowly. “Believe me, I am very healthy.”
She frowned. “All the same, it could be a psychological problem, you know. I mean, you might feel perfectly fit physically and still have some sort of neurosis that's keeping you awake.”
“I've got better things to do than waste my time being neurotic.”
Joel studied her intently in the silence that followed. He was grimly aware that he was getting hard. She looked very soft and vulnerable lying there in the moonlight. The nightgown was hiked up around her knees and he could see that she had beautifully arched feet.
This was insane, he told himself. The last thing he needed. Where the hell was his common sense? He had to keep his mind on the big picture. He was going to be juggling a lot of firecrackers during the next couple of months. He could not afford to let himself get distracted.
But curiosity was riding him now, Joel realized. There was a mystery lying right in front of him, and he had a thing about solving dangerous puzzles before they exploded in his face. If he had learned one thing over the years, it was to be prepared. The more he knew about Letty Thornquist, the safer his plans would be, he told himself.
“You mentioned earlier this evening that in addition to quitting your job, you broke off your engagement to somebody named Philip,” Joel said carefully.
“Dr. Philip Dixon, associate professor in the department of business administration back at Vellacott College. Several publications in notable journals to his credit, consultant to industry and chairman of important faculty committees.” Letty was not looking at him now. She had her arms behind her head and was staring out the window with half-closed eyes.
So the guy was not in the English lit department, after all. “Sorry to hear it didn't work out.”
“Thank you.”
Joel could see the gentle curves of Letty's breasts outlined against the cotton gown. “Maybe you'll change your mind. Give things another chance or something.”
“I can't see that happening.”
“Who broke it off?”
“I did.”
Joel absorbed that. Now he was more than curious. He had to know what would make Letty break off an engagement to a man who should have been perfect for her. “A misunderstanding?”
“You could say that.”
This was like pulling teeth, Joel decided. He kept prodding. “Did you find yourself interested in someone else?”
“No.”
“Did he, uh, get involved with someone?”
Letty turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were drowsy as she focused on his face. “You want to know what actually happened?”
Joel sensed victory at last. He kept his voice even, noncommittal. “If you feel like talking about it, I don't mind listening.”
“I haven't told a single soul. It was too embarrassing.” Letty switched her gaze back to the moonlit deck. “We were engaged about six weeks. I went to see Philip in his office about ten days ago. He wasn't expecting me. I knocked once and then opened the door. He had someone with him. A pretty graduate student named Gloria.”
“They were in what might be called a compromising position, I take it?”
“Philip was sitting in his chair, his legs spread, his pants unzipped. She was on her knees in front of him, and there was a rather appalling sucking noise. It was”—Letty paused—“quite amazing, really.”
Joel drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I can see where that would have been a little upsetting.”
Letty's shoulders started to shake. She put her hand over her mouth and made a tiny, muffled sound. Joel stared at her, alarmed. Hell, she was going to start crying. He was no good with crying women. He had no idea what to do. “Letty, don't. Christ, I'm sorry I brought up the subject. Look…”
“No, you don't understand.” She glanced at him, but her eyes slid quickly away before Joel could read the expression in them. There was another choked squeak, and then the giggles spilled forth.
Joel realized with a jolt of surprise that she was laughing.
“Oh, I was shocked at first,” Letty admitted as she struggled to catch her breath. “‘Stunned’ would be a better word. But then I realized I had never seen anything so ludicrous in my entire life. He looked so silly with his, uh, you-know-what…” She broke off again as words failed her.
“Male member?” Joel suggested dryly.
Letty succumbed to a fresh burst of giggles. She nodded wildly, springy hair bouncing around her shoulders. “Yes, perfect. With his male member stuck in her, I mean, inserted between her…her…”
“With his male member inserted between her scarlettinted lips?”
“Exactly. It was the most ridiculous thing you can imagine.”
“I get the picture.”
“Disgusting, actually.”
“Probably depends on your point of view,” Joel temporized.
She finally stopped giggling and gave him an embarrassed smile. “I guess you had to be there.”
“On the whole, I'm glad I missed it.”
“Yes, well, you have to know Philip to really understand just how ludicrous he looked,” Letty confided. “You see, he's so incredibly professorial. Tweed jackets, tasseled loafers, button-down oxford shirts, paisley ties, the works. He looks a lot like—” She stopped abruptly.
“A lot like what?” Joel asked.
She ma
de a small, dismissing motion with her hand. “Nothing. It just occurred to me that in some ways Philip dresses and acts a bit like Dad. I wonder if that's why I…Never mind.”
Joel realized that avenue of conversation had just been shut down. “Yeah, well, it doesn't sound like you're carrying a torch for Dixon.”
“No.” Letty sighed. “It was horribly humiliating at the time, of course. But when it was all over, I knew it was for the best. I thought Philip and I had a lot in common. But I guess it was all rather superficial in a way. And he did have the most annoying habit of pontificating about things.”
“Pontificating?”
Letty smiled wryly. “If we went to a film, he'd analyze it to death afterward. If we attended a play, he evaluated each actor's performance. It was embarrassing to go out to a restaurant with him because he always sent something back to the kitchen. And his opinion was always the deciding one. He assumed that because he had more degrees than I did, he was always right. I think it would have gotten to me after about six months of marriage.”
“I'd figure six weeks at the most.”
“You may be right.” She glanced at him. “There was something missing in my relationship with Philip. I think I knew it from the first, but I tried to pretend it didn't matter. Maybe I hoped he just wouldn't notice.”
“What do you think was missing?” Joel asked, curious again.
She scowled intently. “I don't know. Some spark. A feeling of passion. An underlying sizzle. I'm not sure how to describe it. All I know is, never in my wildest dreams could I even conceive of getting on my knees in front of Philip Dixon when he had his pants unzipped.”
“Ah.”
“It seems to me that if there had been a shot of genuine passion in the relationship, I would at least have been able to imagine doing that. I'm not saying I would have actually done it, of course. I mean it is rather…” She floundered.
“Wanton?” Joel supplied helpfully.
“Yes. Wanton.” She appeared relieved by the word. “As I said, if there had been a lot of real passion in our relationship I think I should have at least been able to visualize it. Don't you think so?”
Perfect Partners Page 3
