King's Ransom

by Sharon Sala

  But this was getting her nowhere and making her more than a bit miserable. Jesse sighed softly and stretched, trying to get enough incentive to move. Yet she didn’t want to move, ever. This was exactly where she’d yearned to be for as long as she cared to remember. The only thing wrong with the picture was that she was here for all the wrong reasons. King was doing this out of love all right, just not the kind of love Jesse wanted from him.

  She felt the strong, solid length of him, and his even, steady breathing. Carefully, so as not to alert him, she began to scoot from under his grasp. Even asleep, King sensed her movement and pulled her back against him. Jesse felt his hand splay over her stomach, then slide upward until he seemed to find a more comfortable spot. She held her breath as his hand wandered, then let her breath out slowly as his hand come to rest just under the soft, generous curves of her breasts. His sigh of satisfaction made quick tears come and go in Jesse’s eyes and she blinked furiously, anxious that he not awaken to see her in this state.

  She’d successfully hidden her true feelings for King for years, never allowing herself to dream that something such as this would ever come to pass. But now to be thrust in such close quarters for the wrong reasons was the epitome of irony.

  Jesse closed her eyes, let imagination turn her in his arms, taste the sun-browned flavor of his muscular chest and work her way upwards with tiny kisses and nips until she reached the chiseled perfection of his mouth and welcomed King and the day together. The thought was intoxicating. She knew she had to move before the thought became deed.

  Carefully, she lifted away the lightweight sheet covering them and slid her fingers gently over King’s hand, reluctantly removing herself from his grasp. Allowing herself just one small luxury, she very gently brushed her lips across the hand that had held her safely through the night. Then she quietly scooted to the side of the huge bed and slipped from King’s room without looking back.

  He’d been awake since the moment her fingers touched his hand. He’d started to speak, and then something made him remain silent. An instinct…or curiosity…he didn’t know which. But he hadn’t moved. Nothing could have prepared him for the jolt that shot through him as Jesse’s lips brushed across his fingers. Reflex made him clutch a handful of the bedsheet. He gritted his teeth to keep from calling her name—calling her back to his bed as she walked out the door.

  “What in hell is happening to me?” King muttered aloud as he watched his body betray him.

  Rolling over with a painful groan, he pressed his aching body into the unyielding mattress and knew it wasn’t what he wanted under him. He also knew nothing was going to make the ache go away. He suspected it was only going to get worse.

  Unwilling to face, or even investigate, his new feelings for Jesse, he chose his usual way of dealing with an out-of-control situation. He was going to ignore it. He crawled out of bed and headed for the shower.

  “Just coffee,” King growled in his husky rasp. “Not hungry.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shot skyward as she heard King speaking what she called “McCandless shorthand.” It was a strange family trait that surfaced in times of stress or anger. Andrew…King…even Duncan had all exhibited varying degrees of the family trait. Maggie suspected all was not well in King’s world. She also suspected Jesse had something to do with his cranky behavior.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Maggie said wryly. “Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

  “Been a lot better off if I’d never gotten in the damn thing,” King muttered into his coffee cup. Then he quickly swallowed a curse with the fiery gulp of steamy brew.

  “It’s hot,” Maggie warned too late, and turned away so King would not see her smile.

  “I’ll be out most of the day,” King said, and added as he started out the door, “Keep an eye on Jesse. I think she’ll be fine…but…” he cautioned, remembering her flashback episode at the hospital. “If you need me, just find Turner. He’ll know where I am.”

  “You’ll miss Duncan,” Maggie reminded him. “He said he’d be over today.”

  “Hell!” King muttered, and then mentally rearranged his earlier plans. He had every intention of being present when his uncle arrived. Something was going on between him and Jesse and he wanted to see for himself.

  “I’ll be in at noon,” he said, leaning over to kiss Maggie’s cheek, “in a better mood.”

  “Humpf,” she replied, and watched him walk toward the horse barns, his long legs quickly covering the distance. Then he disappeared into the dark, cool depths of the airy building.

  CHAPTER 5

  Jesse mentioned virtually nothing of the preceding night’s events, nor did she mention anything of the aftermath. She had been hiding her feelings for King for so long that it was second nature to be noncommittal.

  She and Maggie worked side by side as they went about the daily chore of putting the huge, rambling ranch house to rights. They chattered idly, visiting about nothing in particular, yet it was obvious that the daily routine was becoming almost more than Maggie could handle alone. Jesse was certain King didn’t realize the increasing difficulties Maggie faced daily. Each passing year added problems, none of which she could control. There were aching joints, a slower stride, and small moments of weariness that she could not hide, even from herself.

  Jesse knew that she probably wouldn’t have noticed the differences in Maggie if she hadn’t been gone for such a long time. Coming back home now was like seeing everything and everyone for the first time.

  “I might have known,” Maggie said with a sigh, as she looked out the living room window she had just dusted. “Here comes Duncan just in time for lunch. I’ll set another place.”

  Jesse looked about wildly, uncertain whether to follow Maggie to the kitchen and prolong the moment when she’d have to face Duncan, or stay and get it over with. She opted for the latter.

  There was no time to change into something less revealing than the blue, terrycloth shorts and shirt she was wearing. It had been too hot to wear much else after the struggle she’d had with Maggie’s vacuum cleaner. Jesse had insisted she was perfectly capable of using it. But the constant pull and push of the handle and the weight of the machine itself had almost been too much for her still tender hands.

  Oh, well, she sighed, I could be wearing a nun’s habit and Duncan would still undress me with a single look. And I don’t remember where I left my shoes.

  So, Jesse waited, defenseless to postpone the inevitable confrontation. She gritted her teeth as she heard him bounding up the front steps of the verandah, whistling some unrecognizable tune a bit off-key.

  “Something smells wonderful,” he shouted as he entered the house, paused in front of the mirror on the hall tree and smoothed his hand over his perfectly groomed hair.

  “Duncan,” Jesse said, as she came into the hallway holding out her hand in greeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  The forced gaiety and exuberance fell from his demeanor like a deflated balloon. He’d known Jesse was here. He just hadn’t expected her to initiate the meeting. He couldn’t put into words what he was feeling. But it was something between anger and shame.

  He kept remembering the last time he’d seen her. And after what had happened recently, he wasn’t certain how to behave. Her outstretched hand couldn’t be ignored. He slipped back into his bravado and sandwiched her offering of greeting between his hands in a none too gentle grasp. Instantly he remembered her injuries, but not soon enough to prevent her gasp of pain.

  “Jesse, dear,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Here, let me look.”

  “No,” Jesse argued. “It’s all right,” and tried to pull her hand away.

  She struggled unsuccessfully as Duncan grasped one hand and then the other and turned them palm sides up. He couldn’t hide the shudder that ran through his big frame as he gazed fully at the healing evidence of her ordeal.

  “Your hands!” he whispered, and pulled them upwards to
his lips. “Dear God! Your hands,” he muttered again. “Said you weren’t hurt. Lied…” he said brokenly, “lied.”

  “Duncan! Please!” Jesse struggled, and finally succeeded in pulling her hands away from his mouth. He was acting strangely. And his words made no sense.

  “Lunch is about ready,” she announced, and tried not to run toward Maggie and the kitchen area where she heard her working out obvious aggression on the pots and pans. “And,” she added, unnecessarily, “King will be here soon.”

  It seemed that speaking his name would give her some measure of insurance against Duncan saying something that she didn’t want to deal with, especially now.

  Duncan was in shock. His feet were moving. He must be saying all the right things. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he’d said. Seeing Jesse had brought back all too vividly the last time they’d been together. It was not a memory he liked to recall.

  Jesse was experiencing a similar jolt of memory and wished, all too fervently, that this day would soon be over.

  * * *

  “So, Jesse’s moving to St. Louis?” Duncan asked, barely controlling his glee at the news. Maybe, if he got her away from this damn ranch and his perfect nephew, he’d have a chance with her.

  Duncan had seen, all too clearly, the way Jesse looked at King. He’d also been aware, long before the others at the ranch, that Jesse LeBeau was a very beautiful, desirable woman. And, since turning twenty-one, she was also a very well-to-do woman. All of the above were attributes Duncan McCandless felt absolutely necessary in a wife. He scoffed at working a nine-to-five job. He shouldn’t have to. After all, he was a McCandless.

  His periodic appearances at the oil company that Jesse’s father, Michael, and his brother, Andrew, had founded, were none too well received. He was tolerated solely because he was a McCandless. He’d inherited a goodly portion of the company stock at Andrew’s death. But the dividends were not enough to keep Duncan in the manner to which he’d accustomed himself. He was growing weary of trying to devise ways in which to make a quick buck. As far as he was concerned, Jesse was the answer to his prayers. All he had to do was court her and marry the rest of the money he felt was, by all rights, his anyway. Duncan also planned to capitalize on the likeness that existed between him and his nephew. After all, if she liked one man’s looks, another so much alike should suffice. And King had his head in the clouds as far as Jesse LeBeau was concerned. His mind was on everything but romance. Duncan considered Jesse an easy mark.

  Unfortunately for Duncan, Jesse saw way beyond the surface of both McCandless men. He would have never wasted his time and money had he known how repulsed Jesse actually was by all his posturing.

  She’d only been in St. Louis a month when Duncan made his first move. His plans had been carefully orchestrated and the “chance” meeting between him and Jesse was a success.

  Leaving the Double M had been difficult for Jesse. Then, when King had not called or written other than to satisfy himself that she’d arrived and settled in safely, she’d been devastated. She didn’t realize King was simply giving her the space he thought she desired. Her decision to leave had been a shock. King and Maggie had finally come to the conclusion that she just wanted to be on her own for a while, and had made every effort not to intrude. Their lack of communication fell right in with Duncan’s plans. His casual offer of dinner in had been eagerly accepted. It began his forays into the life of Jesse LeBeau.

  The “chance” meeting escalated into a weekly visit that he purposely let seem entirely her decision. Jesse was lonely, and for a short while, was swayed by Duncan’s charm and likeness to the man she loved.

  But the weeks grew into months and King did not come. Jesse grew tired of pretending to herself that anything was going to change. All the while, Duncan maintained a manner with Jesse that could only be called gentlemanly. He was certain that it would only be a matter of months before she’d capitulate and all his plans would come to fruition.

  But instead of falling in with Duncan’s ideas, Jesse began to withdraw more and more. Finally even Duncan sensed his looming failure. That was when he made his mistake. Although she never returned the casual hug and kiss he gave her at the end of each visit, she didn’t refuse them either. Duncan saw only dollar signs, not the signs of annoyance that Jesse struggled to disguise.

  But Duncan’s pressing financial problems and Jesse’s obvious withdrawal escalated his carefully laid scheme. He’d refused her attempt to cancel their dinner engagement at one of St. Louis’s finest restaurants after severe weather warnings. Instead, they’d arrived at the proposed time while the pouring rain slowly turned into icy pellets. Duncan had studiously ignored Jesse’s worried glances outside the restaurant window until even he began to see the stupidity of staying longer. However, he had taken the bad turn in the weather as an opportunity he wasn’t going to pass up.

  “If you don’t care for dessert, Jesse, dear,” he said, slipping his hands over hers as she placed her napkin at the side of her plate, “I believe I’d better get you home. It seems the roads are getting worse, and I don’t want to take any chances with your safety.”

  He leaned over in the circular booth they were sharing and slipped his hand under the collar of her sweater as he spoke, refusing to acknowledge the flash of distaste that clouded her eyes.

  Jesse had been trying for several weeks to find a way to lessen the attention Duncan kept showing her. But she was at a loss. At first he’d been a welcome visitor—someone from home. Yet he always made Jesse slightly uncomfortable by the way he looked at her, and the practiced casualness of his touch. She’d tried to get out of this dinner all day. The weather was uncertain and she needed to average the grades of her students and have them ready to post on report cards when Christmas break was over. It had been a long, lonely holiday. Finally she’d weakened at Duncan’s persistence.

  “Yes,” she eagerly agreed, as he suggested they leave. “I’m finished. And the roads look worse.”

  She was anxious to get home and away from Duncan. For some reason, she sensed something different about him. His behavior was making her uneasy. There was an almost desperate quality that she didn’t like. She didn’t like it at all.

  The drive home took forever. The roads had worsened. They made it home safely due only to the fact that nearly everyone else had the good sense to stay indoors and off the roads.

  Duncan saw Jesse to her door, bestowed his usual farewell, and quite off-handedly remarked he’d probably break his neck before he got back to his hotel.

  Jesse felt a twinge of guilt, but remained stubbornly silent as she watched him get in his car and begin the hazardous job of backing down the slope of her icy driveway. Suddenly, before her eyes, Duncan’s car spun in a complete circle and came to rest on the neighbor’s yard. She opened the front door and stepped out, calling anxiously as she saw Duncan groggily shake his head.

  “Duncan,” she called, “are you hurt?”

  He looked up at the sound of her voice, opened the door and stepped out with a huge smile on his face. He shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate his innocence in the whole proceedings and started walking carefully back toward Jesse’s house.

  “No, I’m not hurt,” Duncan answered. “But it looks like you’re stuck with me until morning. Hope you don’t mind. I’ll just stretch out on your sofa. You’ll never know I’m here.”

  There was absolutely nothing Jesse could say to deny him entrance. She also didn’t know that one of the few things Duncan could do well was handle a car. He’d been “shooting doughnuts” on the ice since he was a kid.

  The next two hours went smoother than Jesse could have hoped. He was considerate and unobtrusive as she finished averaging and posting the student grades in her book. She heard Duncan moving quietly about in the kitchen, but the only obtrusion he made was to bring a pot of her favorite apple-scented tea and set it and a cup and saucer within reach. She looked up to thank him, but he was already gone.


  Maybe I’m making more of this than I should, Jesse thought. He’s actually being true to his word.

  Finally her work was finished. Jesse slammed the pages of her grade book shut with a satisfied plop. She pushed her chair back and stretched her legs out before her, stood and wearily tilted her head from side to side, trying to work the kinks out of her neck and tired shoulder muscles.

  “Need a back rub?” Duncan asked softly.

  His voice startled her. She turned to see him watching her from the doorway of the den. Jesse shuddered. She hadn’t been aware of his presence and it made her uneasy.

  “No, no. It’s fine. A good night’s sleep will take care of it,” Jesse answered anxiously, hoping he would move away from the doorway so she could escape to relative safety in her bedroom. But Duncan was too big and compelling, and kept looking at her in a very unsettling way.

  “Well,” she said brightly, “if there’s anything you need during the night, Duncan, please feel free to help yourself. Food, extra blankets, anything…”

  “There is something I need Jesse, dear.” He began walking slowly toward her. “No. Something I want.”

  Jesse’s heart stopped and then raced. All speech left her as she began backing away from Duncan. But there was nowhere to go.

  “Don’t be afraid, my dear,” he crooned. He slipped his hands on either side of her neck and cupped her face, tilting it toward his dark, fathomless gaze. “You know how I feel about you. You must! Please, let me show you how precious you are to me. Let me stay with you tonight. Let me take care of you, always.”

  “No…no,” Jesse whispered, feeling revulsion at his touch. She struggled uselessly within his grip, and fought down the rising black tide of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. This couldn’t be happening! She had to be dreaming, because this was a nightmare.

  “You’ve misunderstood, Duncan. I don’t think of you that way. You’re Andrew’s brother—King’s uncle. I’ve always thought of you as family. Please!” And the last came out with a sob as she struggled wildly to get away from his lips on her neck…on her face…on her mouth. “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, and pushed with both hands, pressing and hitting against his chest with all the strength she could muster. It wasn’t much, but her struggles broke his grip and Jesse fell back with a choked cry.