The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6)

by Joan Johnston

  “This is my place,” she said as she unlocked the door and let him into her fifth floor apartment. Her father was footing the bill, or she never would have been able to afford it, but it was furnished with secondhand furniture she’d bought herself.

  Kate loved everything about the West, and her decor showed it. A leather couch. An ancient wooden rocker. A cowhide rug. A standing lamp that had been fashioned from a wooden hanes, the horse collar used to pull a wagon.

  The door made a solid thunk sound when Jack closed it behind him. Kate suddenly felt nervous, way out of her depth. Which was silly, because it was pretty obvious that a man who felt like spending time with her was “baby-sitting” wasn’t likely to have designs on her person.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. The sun had been warm on their backs during their walk.

  “Iced tea if you’ve got it,” he said. “Otherwise, water will be fine.”

  Kate made herself busy in the kitchen, watching from the corner of her eye as Jack toured her living room, picking up various objects and inspecting them and putting them back down.

  “Nice antlers,” he said, as he inspected half of a five-point rack of deer antlers that decorated her coffee table.

  “I found them when I was hiking on North’s ranch,” she said, as she crossed and handed him a glass of iced tea.

  She held up her own glass and said, “Here’s to marriage. My parents’ marriage,” she quickly corrected.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jack said, clinking his glass against hers. “You ready to make that call?”

  “Not really,” Kate said. “But I guess it has to be done.” She didn’t like deceiving her parents, but she was doing this for their own good. This wasn’t as crazy as some of the stunts she’d suggested to Uncle North in the barn a couple of weeks ago. But it was close.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said, looking into Jack’s dark eyes as she made contact with her mother. “I’m fine,” she said. “I have some news.”

  Jack stepped close enough that she could smell some faint scent of piney male cologne, while she held her cell phone a little away from her ear so he could hear the other side of the conversation.

  “Good news, I hope,” her mother said.

  “Wonderful news!” Kate said, her eyes once more locked with Jack’s. “I have a new boyfriend.”

  “That is wonderful news,” her mother said. “Tell me about him.”

  “It’s Jack McKinley,” Kate said.

  Kate was looking into Jack’s eyes and saw the resignation in them at her mother’s awed silence.

  “The Jack McKinley?” her mother said. “The football player?”

  “Yes, Mom. He’s the most amazing man. So handsome—”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  “And charming—”

  Jack flashed his smile.

  “And…” Kate searched for a word that would describe what she felt when she looked into Jack McKinley’s eyes. “And kind, Mother. Thoughtful and kind.”

  Jack turned his back on her and headed for the picture window that revealed a stunning view of the pink marble state capitol and the lovely park that fronted it. Kate stared at his back as she listened to her mother caution her about getting involved with someone so much older.

  “He’s not that old, Mom. Only thirty-two.”

  “Does your father know about this?” her mother asked.

  “I haven’t told Daddy,” Kate said. “I was kind of hoping you would be here to support me when I do.”

  After a pause, her mother said, “You do realize how inappropriate this young man is for you.”

  “I’m crazy about him, Mom.”

  Jack turned around, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

  “I want you to meet him, Mom,” Kate continued, her eyes pleading with Jack to accept the necessity for such lies. “I need you to be here when I introduce him to Daddy. Please say you’ll come.”

  Kate couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face when her mother agreed. She met Jack’s gaze with sparkling gray eyes as she said, “I’m so glad, Mom. When can you get here? You’re coming tomorrow? Great!”

  Her mother said she would rent a car at the airport and to see if Jack could join the two of them for dinner.

  Kate turned to Jack and said, “Can you make dinner tomorrow night?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Yes, he’s right here,” she said to her mom. She held out the phone and said, “She wants to talk to you.”

  Jack took the phone as though she were passing him a rattlesnake by the tail, and said, “Hello, Ms. Grayhawk.” And then, “We’ve been seeing each other for a while.” He gestured for Kate to come up with some amount of time, and she held out five fingers.

  “A week or so,” he said.

  Kate turned the phone in her direction, laughed into the receiver and said, “Jack means a week or so of pretty constant time together. We actually met about five weeks ago. We’re looking forward to seeing you, too, Mom. Love you, too. Bye.”

  The instant she closed the flip phone, a hysterical bubble of laughter escaped. “Five days?”

  “That’s longer than most of my relationships,” Jack said with a wry smile.

  “You almost blew the whole thing.”

  “Five days makes more sense than five weeks. How are we going to convince your mom and dad we’ve known each other that long?” Jack said.

  “We’ll just have to compare notes and exchange information.”

  “We’ve only got twenty-four hours,” Jack pointed out.

  “Then we’d better get started.”

  “Hell. We might as well get this out of the way first,” he said.

  Kate wasn’t sure what Jack meant, until he took her in his arms. “Whoa! What are you doing?”

  “I guarantee you if we’d been dating for five weeks, we’d have done a lot more than kiss. I figured we should get this first kiss over with.”

  “Over with?” Kate said. “You make it sound like the mumps!”

  “Those weren’t much fun, either,” Jack said.

  “You can turn around and head for the door right now, for all I—”

  Kate never finished her sentence because Jack was kissing her. His mouth captured hers as he pulled her close. At first, she struggled in his arms, because she wasn’t done arguing. When his tongue probed the seam of her lips, she opened her mouth to protest, and he slid his tongue inside. She grabbed his hair, intending to pull it, but he shoved his right leg between hers and pulled her up high on his thigh.

  Kate gasped at the pleasurable contact and pressed her tongue deep in Jack’s mouth. He groaned, and hands that had held hunks of his silky hair threaded through it and drew his head down to hers. The kiss was tumultuous, a war of wills—and tongues—that left them both breathing hard.

  She was hanging onto Jack’s neck for dear life when they were done, and his hands still grasped her waist to hold her close. She felt her insides twist as she looked up into his dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Thank God that’s over with,” he said, shoving her off his leg.

  “Yeah,” she agreed, her knees wobbling as she struggled to stay on her feet. She shoved her hair away from her face and said, “Now we can focus on the details.”

  “Yeah, like your favorite ice cream.”

  “Strawberry,” she said.

  “Chocolate,” he said. “And your favorite drink?”

  “I’m not legally old enough to drink alcohol,” she said.

  “Yeah. Right. I could use a strong drink right now,” he said, raking both hands through his hair and leaving it standing on end. “Where were we?”

  She leaned toward him, and as though some unseen force drew them together, his mouth found hers again. Infinitely tender. Unbelievably needy. Undeniably sweet.

  He ended the kiss abruptly, frowning down into her face.

  Kate stared up into his dark, questioning eyes, feeling like she’d been poleaxed. “This is…strange,” she said. “I
didn’t think this sort of instantaneous physical attraction happened.”

  “It doesn’t,” he said flatly. “I wanted to make sure we could convince your parents this is for real.”

  “Are you telling me you were faking what just happened between us?” she said incredulously.

  “It was all for show. Every bit of it.”

  “You’re lying,” she accused.

  “Sweetheart, the woman hasn’t been born that can get under my skin.”

  She stared at him for a moment and said, “We’ll see about that.”

  “Don’t waste your time. It can’t be done.”

  “Why are you suddenly acting like a bastard?” Kate said.

  “I thought that was the point. To convince your parents you’ve made a bad choice.”

  “I think you should leave now,” she said, confused by the sudden change in Jack’s demeanor.

  “Sure. Fine. I’ll come by tomorrow, when I have some free time, to finish this up. We need to make sure we have all our facts straight before I meet your mother.”

  When she turned a troubled face to bid him farewell, he was already gone.

  The instant Jack was out the door, he opened his flip phone and hit two. When the call was picked up, he said, “I’ve made contact. Don’t worry. She isn’t going anywhere without me from now on. When you want her out of the way, just say the word, and I’ll take care of it.”

  He listened for a moment, then made a growling sound in his throat. “You call it. But I’m telling you right now, as far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.”

  6

  Kate was still in bed, half asleep, when she heard someone pounding on her front door. “I’m coming,” she called out. She felt waterlogged, like she was coming up from deep below the surface. She glanced at the clock and bolted upright. “Eleven? That’s impossible!” She’d missed both of her Friday morning classes, and her mother was due to arrive in a matter of hours.

  She fell backward, covered her head with the second pillow on her queen-size bed and groaned. It was his fault she’d overslept. She’d had serious second thoughts about revealing any more of herself than she already had to a scoundrel like Jack McKinley. And she’d spent half the night worrying about the plan she’d set in motion. There were too many things that could go wrong.

  What if her mother changed her mind and decided not to come? What if her father didn’t have time, with his busy new schedule, to spend with her mother? What if they talked and talked and talked without ever admitting that what they really needed was to spend the rest of their lives together?

  People in love, she’d discovered, could be amazingly obtuse.

  “I’m coming!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, pushing her way out of bed. She raced barefoot to the front door and pulled it open, glaring at the frustratingly attractive man she found standing there. “I overslept. I should be in class right now.”

  “But you’re not,” Jack pointed out. “After I left here yesterday, I had a great idea how to get your parents together.”

  “Better than mine? I doubt it.”

  “Do you want to hear it or not?”

  “Not.”

  “I thought you wanted to get your parents together.”

  “I do.”

  He leaned an arm against the door frame high above his head, so she was treated to the sight of his entire rangy body looking deliciously sexy. He focused his dark, chocolate brown eyes—which, she suddenly noticed, were framed by ridiculously long eyelashes—on her and said, “Are you going to let me in?”

  She had visions of the two of them intertwined. Naked. “I’d rather not.”

  He pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him, pacing the width of her apartment as he spoke, his masculine presence filling the room.

  Kate was suddenly aware of how mussed her nearly waist-length black hair must be, and that there wasn’t a drop of makeup on her face, because she’d washed it all off last night. She was glad she slept in a tank T-shirt and drawstring pajama bottoms. This could have been awkward if she were a Victoria’s Secret sort of girl.

  Then she saw his eyes had locked on the front of her T-shirt. She looked down and saw her nipples had peaked beneath the soft white cotton. It must be the air-conditioning. She crossed her arms to cover the offending body parts and said, “So what’s your big plan?”

  She heard Jack swallow hard before his eyes met hers.

  “We need to make sure your mom realizes this isn’t a passing phase. That we’re serious. You can say you’re planning to quit school to be with me. Of course, we have no plans to marry.”

  “That would drive her nuts, all right,” Kate said.

  “You should ask your mom—actually, your mom and dad—to meet you at the foreman’s house on North’s ranch. That way they can see we’re living together.”

  Kate gaped. “We’re living together?”

  “I don’t know a better way to make the point that we’re really a couple,” Jack said.

  Kate shook her head and said, “It won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Uncle North will never allow it.”

  “North isn’t going to interfere,” Jack said.

  Kate’s eyes narrowed. “How can you be sure?”

  “The foreman’s house is a half mile down the road from the main ranch house, so he isn’t even going to know you’re there unless he stops by to see me. Which he won’t. When he gave me the key, he promised he wouldn’t bother me unless I called him first. Which I won’t. Besides, he’s got his own problems to deal with. He isn’t going to be paying any attention to us.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You don’t need to think, just get dressed and pack some clothes so we can get out of here,” Jack said. “How long before your mom arrives?”

  “Any time now,” Kate said.

  “Then we’d better get a move on.”

  When Libby got off the plane in Austin there was a message on her cell phone telling her that Kate wasn’t at home, that “Dad will know where I am,” and that she should go directly to the federal courthouse, “where Daddy is working now. Surprise!”

  Libby had heard nothing about Clay going back to work after leaving the U.S. attorney general’s office, and she wondered what kind of job he’d gotten that took him to the federal courthouse. Was he a federal prosecutor? He would be good at it, she knew. But it was a big step down from aspirations to the presidency.

  Libby tried to reach Clay on his cell phone before she left the airport, to ask where Kate was, but the call went directly to voice mail. She tried Kate’s cell phone again and got the same result.

  When she arrived at the courthouse, she was surprised at the tight security, until she realized the Bomber Brown trial was in progress inside. King had known two of the judges who’d died in the Houston courthouse bombing. She asked where she could find Clay Blackthorne, and was told, “Judge Blackthorne is in his courtroom.”

  Libby barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Clay was a federal judge? Why hadn’t someone told her? How had she missed hearing about it on the news? How wonderful for him!

  And how awful for her.

  Her life was based in Jackson Hole, where she took city folks on backpacking trips into the wilderness with Doc, Magnum and Snoopy, the three hounds she’d left in the care of a friend. Clay’s appointment as a federal judge in Austin was for life. How were they supposed to end up together when their jobs would keep them at opposite ends of the country?

  Libby slipped into the courtroom and realized there weren’t any seats left in the back. Which meant she could either leave or head up to the front. She moved as unobtrusively as she could down the center aisle, shivering when she felt Clay’s eyes on her. His gaze narrowed on her briefly, then shifted back to the defense attorney.

  Libby had to move to the center of the third row to find an empty seat. To her dismay, Clay’s father, Jackson Blackthorne, and his stepmother, Lauren Creed Black
thorne, were sitting directly in front of her. Ren turned and smiled at her, but Blackjack kept his eyes on his son, the judge.

  Libby didn’t know Ren Blackthorne very well, since Blackjack had been married to Eve DeWitt all those years ago, when Libby had been pregnant and unwed and very much in love with Clay, who’d only wanted to marry her, she believed, to “do the right thing.”

  The more contact she’d had with Eve, the more Libby had realized what a blessing it was that Blackjack had stolen her away from King. It was Eve, Libby believed, more than Blackjack, who’d been opposed to Clay marrying her. Eve had made it clear that her son—the future U.S. president—deserved better than a harlot, a word Libby had never heard before and had needed to look up afterward.

  She’d flushed beet red at what she’d found: härlt′har-lotn[ME, fr. OF herlot rouge](15c): PROSTITUTE.

  Her own mother had been long dead by the time all this happened. It was her mother’s death, of sorrow, after her father had divorced her, that had prompted Libby to seek revenge against the Blackthornes. And she’d had no one with whom she could discuss the depths of her despair when everything had gone so terribly wrong. She’d started out to avenge her mother’s death and ended up in love with the enemy.

  And pregnant with his child.

  Her father’s response to the situation, to forbid her marriage to Clay and threaten dire consequences to her lover if she tried to run away with him, had been particularly heartbreaking.

  Here she was, twenty years later, still in love with a man who’d never been able to forgive her for refusing to marry him. Even after he’d learned that she’d been blackmailed by her father into turning him away. Even after he’d learned that she still had feelings for him. Even after he’d admitted that he still had feelings for her.

  Instead of nursing the long dormant love between them to life, he’d turned his back on her and gotten engaged to his former wife’s sister.

  Suddenly, Libby had been thrown back into the arena with the lion. Because they shared a daughter. And their daughter was in yet another scrape.