The emergency room was having a busy day of it. Oblivious to his young mother's soothing, a red-faced child howled in one corner, while across the room, a drunk with a bloody nose talked earnestly to the wall. At the desk, a young nurse rolled her eyes at the fair man's bare chest, then handed him a form and a pencil with downcast eyes.
He grinned and took it helplessly. 'But you won't be able to read it—'
'Then I'll do it.' Beside him, Jade held out her hand.
His light grey eyes inspected her face curiously, as he. gave her the form. 'Fair enough. Let's find someplace quiet, if we can.' Leading the way around the corner to two straight-backed chairs, he sat carefully. 'Okay, shoot.'
Jade scanned the form. 'Last name?'
'Wykoff—W-y-k-o-f-f.'
'Middle initial?'
'H as in Hubert.'
'Is that what it is?' She stared up at him, horrified.
'Good heavens, no!' He grinned at her, leaned back and shut his eyes.
Jade laughed in spite of herself and looked down again. 'First name?'
'Alexander. Try Zan when you want me.' The hard face tightened, then relaxed again.
Jade bit her lip in sympathy. 'Address?'
The blond brows jerked slightly. 'Let's see, what the devil—oh, Brenton Heights, Apartment Five, Newport. I don't know the zip code yet.'
As she pencilled in the address, Jade raised her eyebrows. That was one of those new condominiums, the ones with the superb views of Newport harbour. So he was a rich jock, then. Did that make things better or worse? 'Age?'
'Thirty-four.'
Her lashes swept up as she turned to inspect him. She might have guessed thirty, but then faint crinkles—his laugh or squint lines, whichever they might be—etched the tan skin at the corners of the wide-set eyes. Add some grey to the straight, thick hair and you'd see him at fifty, she realised. An' arresting, ageless face.
'Health insurance?'
The long lips lifted slightly. 'None, sweetheart.' His low voice was serene.
Jade stared at him in dismay, and took a deep breath. 'Okay.'
They finished the form and she brought it back to the desk. The young nurse read over it, frowning. 'Just how will this be paid, miss?'
Jade squared her shoulders. 'I'll be paying for it. Do you want to bill me, or shall I pay it here?'
Jade shifted her weight on the unforgiving seat, and glanced at the clock again. They'd had him in there so long. How bad could it be?
She heard a door click open down the hallway and then his low, enthusiastic voice. 'You mean to say you can tell if it's accident or suicide?'
'Right. In high-speed car wrecks, if he had his foot to the floor, it'll show. The imprint of the shoe will be on the gas pedal, not the brake. The inference is obvious.'
'That's wonderful!' They strolled into view, a small chubby man in a white coat dwarfed by Zan Wykoff, his bare chest now covered by the white sling supporting a large arm cast. 'And you don't mind my calling, if I had any trouble with this strangling, Peter?' He turned to face him as Jade stepped forward, her eyes puzzled.
'Not at all. It'd be my pleasure, Zan. But take it easy for a day or two, will you?' The doctor turned to glance at Jade, his small, clever eyes sweeping across her swiftly, and he smiled broadly. 'But I guess that's your department, isn't it, miss? See if you can get him to eat something when you get him home, and then just put him to bed for the day. He'll be fine tomorrow.'
Jade opened her mouth helplessly, shut it again, as Zan Wykoff spoke. 'Don't worry, Peter,' he said smoothly, his eyes dancing. 'I'll get the best of care. She has a feather touch.'
The doctor grinned. 'Some guys have all the luck! Well, I'll talk to you later, Zan.' He dropped a folder at the desk and hurried off.
'Jerk,' Jade said bitterly.
Zan Wykoff chortled. 'Just getting some of my own back, sweetheart. It may take a while to even the score.'
Jade nodded wearily. 'Okay, Zan. Do you think you can get into the car by yourself? I'll be there in a minute.'
'Where are you going?' The cool grey eyes studied her as he took the keys.
'I'm settling your bill.' She met his gaze steadily.
He nodded slowly. 'Okay.'
It was going to be a hot one for June, Jade noticed, as she trudged back to the car. With the door open, Zan Wykoff slouched in his seat, his feet on the pavement. His lips twitched as he saw her face, but the golden brows were knotted in a shaggy line of pain. They didn't speak until she turned out of the parking lot. 'Brenton Heights?' she asked grimly.
'Please. How much did it cost?' The pale eyes roamed across her profile. Jade concentrated on the road before her and tried not to bite her lip. 'Seven hundred. Broken wrists don't come cheap.'
He breathed heavily. 'Indeed they don't. And this is the least of it.'
She bit her lip, guessing what would come next. How much could he—would he—sue her for, and how much could he take? There was damned little for the taking, besides the house she'd just bought. The airline ticket to Greece, once she'd cashed it in, would just cover her cheque to the hospital, and that was about it. Once school started in September again, she supposed he could garnish her pay-cheque. And she could—would— sell the bug and offer him the money. She sighed. Thank heavens she hadn't married Fred already! He wouldn't have thanked her, being embroiled in a mess like this. Of course, on the other hand, if they'd been married, he would have never let her drive without insurance.
She sighed again. Somehow she was going to have to placate Zan Wykoff. Settle the score, as he'd put it, without bringing in the lawyers. Make him see that there was only so much blood to be squeezed from a stone. Would he be reasonable? She flicked a glance at him, only to find those cool eyes still on her face.
'It would be nice to have a name for you,' he commented.
'Oh, I'm sorry. Jade—Jade Kinnane.'
'The darling Jade!' he laughed softly.
'I beg your pardon?' She frowned, shifted a gear, and found to her relief that her hand had clearance by his leg this time.
'It's a quote from a grand old sailor, about a racing yacht he loved—a J boat. I can't quite bring it out whole, right now, but it's wonderful. I'll look it up for you some time.' He shifted restlessly and turned to study her. 'But your mother wasn't thinking about that kind of jade when she named you. Was it for your eyes?'
Jade shrugged. 'I suppose so. I understand she'd taken up Oriental flower arranging that year. My father wanted just plain Jane. Mother's tastes were more . . . adventuresome.' She smiled grimly. Some things never change.
'Jade. Jade Kinnane,' he murmured. 'Very nice. Very appropriate . . . Hey, shouldn't you turn there?'
'No,' Jade shook her head. 'All the tourists clog Bellevue this time of day, to see the mansions. This way is longer but quicker. You're new to town, aren't you?'
Leaf shadows and sunlight patterned the narrow road as they spun along between high granite walls. It was nearly one, Jade estimated. If all had gone as planned, she would have completed two or three watercolours by now, and would have been on her way home. If all had gone as planned . . .
'Brand new,' he agreed. 'I arrived late last night, as a matter of fact. I was restless, ended up working instead of sleeping, and decided to wind down with an early morning run. Had a lovely jog, got lost, and was passing a side road when—bam!—my whole life changed,' he smiled wryly.
Jade sighed, nodding, and turned the bug into a long, shaded road with a forbidding 'Private Lane. No Trespassing' notice at the entrance. The road sloped down the grassy hill before them. Through the trees, patches of blue sparkled and shimmered. They rounded a bend, and the harbour opened below them, wide and dazzling, alive with dancing boats. Jade slowed the car, her eyes wide.
They looked down on her favourite part of the harbour, Brenton Cove—the quiet side across from the town. With its deep, still waters bounded by low, jagged cliffs, it reminded her of a small fiord, remote and peaceful.
A
cross the cove loomed the high, grass-grown walls of Fort Adams, its cannon ports commanding the harbour and the mouth of Narragansett Bay. And beyond the fort, the Newport Bridge traced a springing arc across the sky, its airy grace counterpointing the stubborn weight of the fortress walls. It was a view to steal your breath away, to lift your heart.
She tore her eyes away to inspect the building at the water's edge. The architect had displayed a becoming modesty before this panorama. Choosing to harmonise rather than compete, he had echoed the colours and thrusts of the broken granite cliffs on which the condominium stood with angular, simple planes of glass and grey shingles. The resulting design was not an intrusion on the scenery, but an extrusion of the native rock. Jade sighed in approval.
'You can stop over there, Jade. Mine's the corner unit.'
Jade parked, and gathering her courage, walked around to release him, watched him unfold.
'Come on in.' His voice was quiet, his eyes amused.
She braced herself, shook her head. 'No, thanks, Zan. You ought to rest, and I've got to get going.'
But Zan's head lifted slightly, and his eyes were no longer friendly. 'That wasn't an invitation, Jade, that was an order. I'm not done with you yet. Let's go.' He jerked his chin towards the door.
She shook her head again, suddenly frightened. What did she know about this man, after all? 'I'll call you later if you like, but—'
He leaned into the car and then turned to face her, her keys dangling from his large fingers. Only his lips smiled. 'If you think you can crash .into my life and then speed away, just like that, you've got another think coming, Jade. It's not that simple. I'll be inside, when you want to talk.' He turned away, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, unlocked the door, and disappeared, leaving it open behind him.
CHAPTER TWO
Jade glared after him, her hands clenched. Damn him! Of all the high-handed—but then she had handled that badly, hadn't she? She had so desperately wanted time to think, time to come up with a plan to placate him. Instead, she'd only aggravated him. She shook her head wretchedly and walked to the door.
Stepping in from the sunlight, she hesitated, blinking in the cool dimness. She had a quick impression of space, and the elegant play of polished woods against rough, pale fabrics in the modern furniture, the rich tones of an Oriental rug. But this was not the time to stop and admire. The long, open room stretched away from her towards glass and sunlight on the waterside, and she could see Zan's wide shoulders and hard profile black against the sky beyond sliding glass doors. Slouching at a table, he turned to stare at her, his face dark against the backlighting.
'Shut the door,' he called. Tilting his head back, he drank from a can, then watched her as she slowly approached across the polished oak floors. 'Want a beer?'
'No, thanks.' She stared down at his cold face. 'Should you be drinking on top of pain pills?'
Zan smiled wryly. 'Kind of you to care, Jade, but I think I can handle one. Consider it part of the medication. Sit down.' He pointed the can at a chair across from him.
She sat, stole a wistful glance at the view beyond the glass, then turned to face him across the table.
'Suppose we start with the basics, Jade,' he said briskly, pushing a large notepad and pen across to her. 'Write down your insurance company, and its address, if you know it.'
Jade bit her lip. 'Why do you want to know?' she hedged desperately.
Zan snorted. 'I think that's obvious, isn't it? I'm willing to chalk the pain and suffering up to experience, and an interesting experience it has been, sweet.' He tipped the can again, his odd, light eyes holding her as he drank. 'But you've disabled me, and at a damned awkward time, too, girl. I'm going to have to sue your company for damages if I don't want to lose my shirt.' His voice hardened. 'Now quit stalling and write it down.'
'I—I haven't got any!' she blurted miserably, her eyes wide and suddenly swimming.
'Ho . . .' Zan breathed softly. He rubbed the cold can slowly across his lips, his eyes ice-grey and narrowed upon her.
Braced for the explosion, Jade endured his gaze, her lips trembling.
'I see,' he said evenly, at last. 'So that's it. That's illegal, isn't it, surely?'
'No.' Her voice sounded tiny in her own ears. 'Not in Rhode Island . . . and I've never had an accident before . . .'
His laugh hissed between his teeth. 'Well, you sure started in a big way, sweet! It may not be illegal, but it sure was stupid.' He eyed her grimly. 'So, now I get to gouge my damages out of you, not some fat insurance laddies.' He smacked the empty can on the table and stood up abruptly. 'Sure you won't have a beer? This calls for another round.'
'No, I—okay, please,' she changed her mind. At least it would give her a place to put her nervous hands. She watched as he brought them back to the table, one in hand, one tucked in the sling of his cast.
Wedging a can between his hard thighs, Zan flipped the pop top with his left hand and handed it to her, smiling wryly. 'It opens whole new vistas of experience, doesn't it?'
Jade took it gingerly, her fingers oddly aware of the heat of his legs now fading from the cold metal. She took a polite sip, found she was thirsty, and swallowed a long one. The cold beer fizzed in her empty stomach, seemed to spread out along the veins from her centre like ripples from a dropped stone.
She shivered, then looked up to find his ice-grey gaze waiting for her across the table.
'All right,' he said quietly, his eyes holding her. 'Take the pad, Jade, and write a description of the accident— the location, the time, the date, the speed that you were going, the fact that you jumped the stop sign, and what occurred next.' His hard face was still as a hunting cat when it sees the bird. 'And then sign it.'
Jade licked her lips, thinking rapidly. Without that statement Zan had no case. There had been no witnesses to the accident, and it was his word against hers as to what had happened. She lifted the can and drank, conscious of his eyes on her face. It would be a rotten move on her part, the most selfish thing she'd ever done—but then this was survival. Zan could obviously sustain the damages better than she could, from the looks of this place. And she would still make whatever amends she could afford . . . but that statement would be a mortgage on her life. Once he had that, Zan could strip her of everything. She must not sign. She finished her beer, set it down nervously.
He tossed his off, then crumpled the can absently, his eyes on her face. Jade swallowed, found she couldn't look away as the long fingers crunched and kneaded the aluminium. Zan set the wad of metal delicately between them. 'Well, Jade?'
Resting her hands on the table, she started to rise. 'No, Zan—'
But he moved faster than she expected. A hand like a beartrap shot out to envelop her wrist as he leaned above her, his eyes stony cold. She could feel his breath warm on her face, could feel her eyelids straining to open even wider.
The warm hand squeezed gently, exerted a delicate downward pressure, and she found herself sitting again, knees shaking.
'I don't believe I heard you, the last time,' he drawled softly above her, 'but before you repeat yourself, will you keep in mind three things, Jade? Just remember that it's been a long, hard day for me, that my temper's a little tenuous at the best of times, and . . . that no one knows you're here.' His hand shifted slightly, and his fingers lifted to caress the soft skin along the inside of her wrist.
Jade forced her chin up and felt it quiver. 'You're just trying to scare me,' she said breathlessly.
'Mmm,' he agreed, smiling slightly, his warm fingers stroking her. 'Scandalous how easy it is, too. Your pulse is about a hundred and thirty to the minute, I'd say, right now.'
She hissed, jerked her hand futilely, and his head tilted. 'What's this?' He turned her hand gently, as if inspecting a strange butterfly, stared at the small diamond ring on her finger, then met her eyes again. His eyes were darker now, the pupils wide and black. 'Well, well,' he mocked brightly. 'Engaged, are we? Who's the lucky fellow?'
&nb
sp; 'You wouldn't know him,' she spat, glaring up at him. 'He doesn't run with your sort!'
Zan threw back his head and laughed. 'My sort,' he murmured. 'That's got a nice desperado ring to it! I like that.' His eyes narrowed again. 'All right, Jade. If you plan to go home to lover boy tonight, start writing.' He tossed her hand aside and moved easily around the table towards her.
She faced forward, refusing to watch his deliberate advance, her hands clenched on the table to hide their shaking. 'And if I don't?' she asked coolly—but the effect was spoiled as her voice trembled.
Warm fingers closed on the nape of her neck, slid gently up its slender length, rasped in her hair and then travelled slowly down again. A shudder rippled down her spine, and she fought a sudden treacherous urge to lean back against the caress. Damn him!
'If you don't?' his low voice murmured as the warm fingers tightened a touch. 'I'm very tired, Jade. I suppose we'll just sleep on it, and start again in the morning.'
'We?' she choked.
'We,' he agreed caressingly. 'I'm going to get my compensation one way, if not another, sweetheart.'
Jade shut her eyes and laughed breathlessly. 'I'm tired of this gangster talk, Zan. Shut up, will you?'
'Then just go ahead and write it, sweet.' His fingers wandered up her neck again. 'All I want is the truth, you know.'
She shuddered. 'Don't do that!'
'Do what I ask, or I'll do what I please, Jade.' The low voice had dropped; it had a velvety, oddly menacing tone to it now. The warm fingers slid inside her shirt, traced the collarbone slowly out to her shoulder point.
She tried to stand, but the fingers pressed down gently, pinning her to the chair. She drew a shaky breath. 'I'll scream!'
He laughed huskily. 'Scream away, sweetheart. There's no one home next door. They're gone for the week.' The ruthless fingers found her hairclip, fumbled gently, stopped to press her down again, found the catch and sprang it. Her heavy hair slid down across her shoulders in silken waves, and she could hear his breath quicken behind and above her now, as she blinked back the tears. This was mad, it wasn't happening, it was all a cruel joke! The sane and sunny world beyond the glass was the real world; this dim room, the hypnotic, dominating fingers were some nightmare—she'd wake any second now. Jade shook her head dizzily as the fingers combed through her hair, held it out to the light and dropped it.
The Darling Jade Page 2
