by Lisa Jackson
OUTSTANDING PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF LISA JACKSON
LIAR, LIAR
“Bestselling Jackson jam-packs the plot of her latest nail-biting novel with plenty of unexpected twists and turns, making Liar, Liar a terrific choice for readers who enjoy their literary adrenaline fixes on the darker side of the suspense spectrum.”—Booklist
“Twisty . . . suspenseful. The many threads of this action-packed mystery are tied together by the mesmerizing, larger-than-life character of Didi Storm, who haunts the book to its final pages.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
YOU WILL PAY
“This suspenseful thriller is packed with jaw-dropping twists.” —In Touch Weekly
NEVER DIE ALONE
“Jackson definitely knows how to keep readers riveted.” —Mystery Scene
CLOSE TO HOME
“Jackson definitely knows how to jangle readers’ nerves ... Close to Home is perfect for readers of Joy Fielding or fans of Mary Higgins Clark.”—Booklist
TELL ME
“Absolutely tension filled . . . Jackson is on top of her game.” —Suspense Magazine
Books by Lisa Jackson
Stand-Alones
SEE HOW SHE DIES
FINAL SCREAM
RUNNING SCARED
WHISPERS
TWICE KISSED
UNSPOKEN
DEEP FREEZE
FATAL BURN
MOST LIKELY TO DIE
WICKED GAME
WICKED LIES
SOMETHING WICKED
WICKED WAYS
SINISTER
WITHOUT MERCY
YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW
CLOSE TO HOME
AFTER SHE’S GONE
REVENGE
YOU WILL PAY
OMINOUS
RUTHLESS
ONE LAST BREATH
LIAR, LIAR
BACKLASH
Anthony Paterno/ Cahill Family Novels
IF SHE ONLY KNEW
ALMOST DEAD
Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya Novels
HOT BLOODED
COLD BLOODED
SHIVER
ABSOLUTE FEAR
LOST SOULS
MALICE
DEVIOUS
NEVER DIE ALONE
Pierce Reed/ Nikki Gillette Novels
THE NIGHT BEFORE
THE MORNING AFTER
TELL ME
Selena Alvarez/ Regan Pescoli Novels
LEFT TO DIE
CHOSEN TO DIE
BORN TO DIE
AFRAID TO DIE
READY TO DIE
DESERVES TO DIE
EXPECTING TO DIE
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
BACKLASH
LISA JACKSON
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Compilation copyright © 2019 by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Aftermath copyright © 1989 by Lisa Jackson
Tender Trap copyright © 1989 by Lisa Jackson
Both titles comprising Backlash were originally published by Silhouette Books in 1989.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-4821-3
ISBN-10: 1-4201-4821-4
ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4822-0 (eBook)
ISBN-10: 1-4201-4822-2 (eBook)
Table of Contents
OUTSTANDING PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF LISA JACKSON
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Aftermath
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Tender Trap
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Aftermath
Prologue
McLean Ranch, Montana
“I love you,” Tessa Kramer whispered. Lying on the summer-dry grass, staring into eyes as blue as the sea, she smiled, blushing a little at the boldness of her words. At nineteen she was certain she was in love. And no one, not her overprotective father, nor her suspicious brother, nor even Denver McLean himself, could convince her otherwise.
Denver’s thumbs traced the arch of her cheeks. Passion smoldered in his eyes. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” Her lips quivered anxiously. “So don’t try to tell me that I’m too young or too naive or too . . . whatever, to know what I’m talking about.”
“Am I arguing?” He kissed her softly again, his lips warm and filled with promise as they brushed tenderly over hers. Strong fingers tangled in her long, strawberry-blond hair.
Winding her arms around his neck, she felt the weight of his chest crush her breasts, could see blue sky through the shifting pine needles of the branches overhead. The summer sun hung low over lazy mountains, and insects hummed in the whisper-soft breeze that ruffled Denver’s coal black hair. Nearby, the horses, a buckskin gelding and a sorrel mare, were tethered together. The animals stood nose to rump, nickering softly and switching their tails at the ever present flies.
The afternoon was perfect.
“I love you, too, Tessa,” Denver vowed, moving gently above her.
Through her jeans Tessa could feel the heat of his body, the solid warmth of his legs entwined with hers.
Pressing eager lips against her neck, he groaned—a deep, primal sound that caused her heart to trip. Her breath caught somewhere between her throat and lungs as he said, “I want to make you mine.”
She believed him. With all of her heart, she knew he wanted to marry her, intended to spend the rest of his life with her. Her heart began to clamor, her pulse jumping wildly as he circled the hollow of her throat with his tongue. His breath was as warm as the summer wind, the honesty in his eyes clear as a mountain lake.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
She felt the buttons slide through the buttonholes in her blouse. The gauzy fabric parted, and sunlight warmed her bare skin. She smiled to herself, throwing caution to the wind. Today
she would prove just how much she loved Denver, just how wrong her father was about him.
Shifting, he traced the sculpted lace of her bra with his tongue. Eager shivers darted down her spine. With ease he unlatched the fastening and tossed the scrap of white cotton into a clump of sagebrush.
She sucked in her breath. His hands moved protectively over her breasts, kneading each dark-crested mound until she burned inside with that same unsatisfied ache she felt whenever they kissed. He touched one nipple with the tip of his tongue and she moaned, wanting more and responding by instinct, holding his head against her, whispering his name as her blood, like wildfire, ran hot and fast in her veins.
She couldn’t think and didn’t want to. Her fingers moved to the waistband of his faded jeans and she released the button, pushing worn denim over his legs, feeling for the first time the downy hair on his thighs as he, too, stripped her bare.
Sunlight danced through the trees, dappling their naked bodies as they gazed upon each other in silent rapture. She wasn’t embarrassed and met his hungry gaze with her own. He swallowed.
She licked her lips. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life,” she said softly. Touching his bare chest, watching the muscles of his shoulders ripple and strain, she smiled up at him.
Her fingers traced a feather-light line against his ribs, and he groaned. “Tessa, don’t tease me—”
“Never,” she vowed, devouring him with her eyes.
At twenty-three, Denver had matured into a handsome man. Long and lean, with tanned skin, flashing blue eyes and hair as dark as the night, he was rugged and charming. His features were no longer boyish, but chiseled into manhood. He was everything she had ever wanted, and unless she convinced him otherwise, he was leaving.
“Oh, Tessa,” he whispered hoarsely, smoothing her hair from her face, his palms caressing her cheeks. “I want to make you happy.”
“Do I look so miserable?” she asked, chuckling deep in her throat.
He grinned crookedly. “You’re gorgeous.”
“So, Mr. McLean, are you.”
“I never want to hurt you,” he said, growing serious again.
“You won’t.”
Slanting his mouth over hers, he moved until he was lying over her, his knees between hers, his thighs rubbing sensually as he entered her quickly. A swift flame of pain burned for a second within her, only to be extinguished by the gentleness of his strokes.
Tessa gasped, her arms circling his neck, her lips pressed to his as he began to move within her, enticing her to do the same. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. The wild flames running through her blood leaped out of control and she was moving with him, riding on a storm as furious as a prairie fire, a tempest that swallowed them both.
“Love me,” she whispered.
“I do—oh!” he cried, his voice raw as he stiffened above her, then fell spent into her waiting arms. “Oh, love.”
The wind shifted silently, moving across the rugged ridge on which they lay, bending the dry grass and catching in Tessa’s hair.
“Don’t ever leave me,” she begged, her mind still spinning in a kaleidoscope of colors as she clung to him and tried to still her racing heartbeat. She felt the dew of sweat on his arms, smelled the scent of lovemaking on his skin, saw smoky clouds swirl in a sky tinged with pink.
“I have to go to L.A.”
His words were a cold dose of reality. “You don’t have to,” Tessa protested.
“Yes, I do, Tessa. I’ve got a job there in two weeks.” Evidently seeing the disappointment in her eyes, he kissed the tip of her nose. “But you could come with me.”
She swallowed back the urge to cry and looked away from him to the hazy heavens. “My dad—”
“Doesn’t need you. I do. Come with me.”
“What would I do in Los Angeles?” she asked, shifting her gaze back to his. “I train horses. I don’t belong in the city. And neither do you.” Blinking rapidly, she told herself not to cry, not this afternoon, not after loving him so completely. Clouds drifted overhead and the smell of smoke wafted through the trees.
“I’m an engineer, Tessa. I want to build bridges and skyscrapers and—” His nostrils flared and every muscle in his body flexed.
“And what?”
“Smoke!” he whispered, his gaze darting through the surrounding hills, to the valley floor far below. “Oh, God—”
“What?” she asked, reading the terror in his eyes. “Denver?” Her throat suddenly dry, she, too, smelled the biting odor of burning wood. Fire!
Scrambling into his jeans, Denver stared down the hillside, his face a mask of horror. “Oh, God, no!”
Tessa followed his gaze, only to see steel-gray smoke billowing from the stables of the McLean Ranch. She felt the blood rush from her face as she scrabbled on the dry ground for her jeans and blouse and struggled into her clothes.
Denver ran barefoot to his horse and grabbed the reins. While the poor beast sidestepped and tossed his head, he swung onto the gelding’s back and kicked hard. Leaving behind a cloud of dust, the buckskin tore down the rutted trail, his hooves clanging sharply on the rocks.
“Wait!” Tessa cried, cursing the buttons of her blouse as she yanked on her boots, then ran to her sorrel mare and climbed into the saddle. “Come on,” she urged, shoving her knees into the mare’s ribs. The little quarter horse leaped forward, half-stumbling down the rocky trail. Tessa slapped her with the reins, and the mare scrambled down the hill.
Wind tore at Tessa’s face and hair, and tears blurred her eyes as she clung burrlike to her horse’s neck. Denver was yards in front of her, cutting away from the trail and through the trees. “Wait!” she called again.
He didn’t even glance back. Tucked low over the buckskin’s shoulders, he streaked ahead.
“Giddyap!” Tessa screamed, praying that the smoke pouring from the stables was from a fire already under control—trying to stop the horrid dread knotting in her stomach. Her game little mare sprinted into the pines, and Tessa had to duck to escape being scraped off by low-hanging branches. “Come on, come on,” she whispered as they broke from the trees and raced across a long pasture leading to the stables.
The ranch was a madhouse. Stable boys, ranch hands and the kitchen help were running through the yard, yelling at one another, turning hoses onto the burning building. Thick, pungent smoke clogged the air, changing day to night. Flames crackled and leaped through the roof. Horses shrieked in terror, their horrific cries punctuating the ring of steel-shod hooves pounding against splintering wood.
“Dear God,” Tessa prayed. “Dear God, save them!”
Denver yanked his horse to a stop, and as the buckskin reared, Denver jumped to the ground, then vaulted the fence.
“Stop! Denver, no!” Tessa cried, stricken as her sweaty mare slid to a halt near the gate. She leaped onto, then over, the top rail of the fence. Her eyes were glued to Denver as he raced, shouldering his way through useless ranch hands toward the stables. “Somebody stop him! Denver!”
Smoke burned her lungs and her eyes stung as she followed, stumbling forward. Somewhere in the distance she heard the wail of sirens. “Denver!”
“You can’t go in there,” her brother, Mitchell, commanded. He seemed to come from nowhere through the smoke.
“Like hell.”
“Precisely.” His gaunt face was streaked with soot, his hair grimy, his eyes red as he stared at the inferno. Hot, crackling flames knifed through charred shingles in the sagging roof. “Just like hell.”
“Denver’s in there!” she cried, still heading across the yard. But Mitchell had no trouble keeping up with her, taking one swift stride to her two.
“Listen to me, Tessa,” he yelled over the roar of the fire, the shouts of men and the screams of terrified animals. “You can’t—”
“I have to!” She was running now, only a few yards from the stables. Mitchell tackled her, his momentum pushing her to the ground. Her chin bounced on gravel, but she didn’
t care. She had to get to Denver.
“Damn it, Tessa,” Mitchell’s voice hissed urgently in her ear, “most of the McLean family’s already trapped in there!”
“No!”
“When the fire broke out, Katharine and Robert tried to help save the animals and the ranch records stored in the office.”
Struggling to a sitting position, Tessa clamped a trembling hand over her mouth and shook her head, staring at the burning building. Originally two stories, the stable had an upper floor used for storage and an office. The horses, the pride of the McLean Ranch, had been boxed in stalls on the ground level. Tessa thought she would retch.
“The fire department will be here soon,” Mitchell said, his voice rough from the smoke, his strong arms holding her back. “There’s nothing anyone can do until they get here.”
“We can’t just sit here and watch them burn!” she choked out, feeling helpless.
Sirens screamed nearby and heavy tires crunched on the gravel. Red and white lights flashed through the smoke. A paramedic van ground to a stop, followed by a red car from the fire department. Three huge, rumbling trucks roared behind.
The fire chief threw open the door of his car and shoved a bullhorn to his mouth. “Everybody get back!” he ordered, his eyes searching the grounds as he waved to the driver of the pumper truck. “There’s a lake around behind!” The truck tore around the main house to the large pond now reflecting scarlet. Firemen jumped from the trucks, dragging heavy canvas hoses toward the stables. “I want that barn contained and the surrounding buildings covered. We can’t trust the wind today.”
Water began jetting from the hoses, arcing high in the air before spraying over the burning building, sizzling as the first jets hit scorched timbers.
