by Lori Foster
Especially since she was honest about wanting him.
“Is your sister older or younger?”
Her shoulders settled back against the seat and she looked out the window at the surrounding traffic. “I’m twenty-seven,” she said, confirming he’d guessed close, “and Skylar is twenty-two.”
Yet Skylar didn’t share both parents with her. Jack asked, “How are you related? Mother or father?”
“Mother.” Then under her breath, she murmured, “Guess there’s no mistaking that.”
Thinking she meant they shared similarities, he teased, “So she’s as cantankerous as you?”
“Who?” Her gaze swung back to him in surprise. “My mother? Skylar? No way. Mom always says the right thing in the right way. Or...” A dull flush crept over her face. “I mean she usually does.”
That wasn’t embarrassment heating her skin, more like genuine upset.
“Skylar follows suit. She’s the perfect daughter.” In a defensive gesture, she folded her arms. “My family’s refined.”
And Ronnie wasn’t. He wondered how, or why, she’d turned out so different. “Is your mom widowed or divorced?”
Mouth flattening, she shook her head. “Neither.”
Yet she had a half sister? “Then how—”
Her shoulders curled a little closer to her ears, forming a weak barrier between them. She withdrew, physically, emotionally. Jack regretted asking her and was about to back out of the conversation when she turned toward him.
“When I was eighteen, Mom and Dad were arguing about his new secretary. Mom didn’t like her because she was too young and pretty, and I guess Mom thought he’d be tempted. The argument got ugly. Dad accused Mom of petty jealousy.” She forced her soft lips into a derisive smile. “Out of the blue, Mom announced that she’d cheated. Dad was shocked. He didn’t believe her. Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe it.”
Jack waited, dread holding him still.
“I guess Mom was determined to prove it, because she said that I...that my dad wasn’t really my dad.”
What the hell? Shock bolted through him. He couldn’t even imagine how she might have felt. “Maybe your father was right. Maybe she just made it up.”
“No.” Her eyes went a little glassy and her mouth tightened before she said, “In a weird way, once she said it, it actually made sense. To all of us. I’d always been so different, like a changeling.” Lips trembling, she looked away, and her voice softened. “I’m not sure who was more shocked, me or Dad.”
Jesus. “She shouldn’t have thrown that on you with no warning.” To deliberately hurt her daughter like that...it was unforgivable.
Seconds ticked by before she spoke again. “Dad blew up, saying he’d always suspected.” Nervous fingers twisted the rings on her right hand. “It was like from one minute to the next, he hated me.”
Rage churned inside Jack, so hot and turbulent he had a difficult time tamping it down. Rage wasn’t what she needed, so he sucked in cleansing air until he knew he could speak without growling. “Are you certain your mother didn’t say it just to hurt him? People sometimes do crazy things when they’re angry.”
“Dad insisted on a DNA test right away. Mom didn’t lie.” Ronnie shook her head. “I thought they would get divorced over it, he was so furious.”
“But they didn’t?”
“No. Things are still strained, though. Doesn’t seem like it’ll ever be like it used to be.” She smoothed her hands out over her thighs. “Skylar blames me.”
So she’d had extra hurt heaped on? No wonder she was bristly. “Your sister was...what? Thirteen at the time? Too young to be rational. You can’t—”
“She blames me now. Still.”
That spiked his anger all over again. “Then she’s a fool. How the hell would it be your fault?”
Wide-eyed over his tone, she explained, “If I’d tried harder to be more like them, like the rest of the family, it wouldn’t be such an issue.”
“I happen to like who you are.”
She blinked, then frowned. “You don’t really know me.”
“Doesn’t sound like they do either.”
The frown evened out and she sighed. “Dad always said I was the black sheep of the family, and he’s right. I never completely fit in.” She gave a wry smile. “They’re all tall, with honey blond hair and dark blue eyes.” She ruffled a hand through her hair. “Even without bleaching it, my hair is far lighter than theirs.”
“That happens. People can inherit physical traits from grandparents, or even great-grandparents.”
Putting her hands over her chest, she said, “I didn’t inherit this.”
His gaze flashed to her chest. At her hands on her breasts. He felt like a complete bastard for stirring at the sight.
“Mom and Skylar have much bigger boobs, as did all the women in my family.”
Disgruntled, Jack scowled. “Women put too much focus on that.”
“Ha! Only because men focus on it—and don’t deny it.”
“No, I won’t.” How could he when he was presently focusing way too much on where she touched herself? “I like your breasts, Ronnie—exactly as they are.”
Snorting a laugh, she dropped her hands. “I didn’t mean to turn this into a discussion on boob size, but if you’re insistent on keeping this job—”
“I am.” Now more than ever. From jump, he’d figured Ronnie was worth the extra effort. The sexual chemistry was strong enough that he hadn’t minded the challenge. Now it wasn’t just physical.
It was a hell of a lot more.
She’d probably deny it, but they had a connection—in bed and out.
“—there’s something else you should probably know,” she finished.
“Okay.” Once she got it all said, he could think of ways to reassure her. “Let’s hear it.”
In an awful rush, she blurted, “I ran away when Dad told me he wasn’t my dad. I mean, I was eighteen, so able to leave, but I just booked without telling them where I was going or anything. I figured they didn’t care anyway. It was really stupid. I had about a hundred bucks to my name and a part-time job at a grocery. Not exactly independent, you know?”
After what they’d put her through, she was hurt and lashing out. “I get it.”
“Anyway, I wasn’t sure where to stay, so I figured I’d spend the night in my car and work it out the next day.”
She’d probably assumed her family would come after her, that they’d see the move as a desperate cry for understanding...because that’s how he saw it. “How’d it go?”
“Not great.” She hesitated for an extended time, struggling, her breathing more shallow, her color intensifying, then she whispered, “I got grabbed off the street.”
Jack went rigid from his feet to his hairline. Knowing he couldn’t continue this conversation while driving, he glanced in the rearview mirror, made some quick maneuvers, and took an upcoming off-ramp.
Ronnie didn’t seem to notice. Turned toward him, one hand gripped the top of the seat, the other fisted on her thigh. “It was a warm night so I had the driver-side window down. I was about to doze off when this crazy dude literally reached in and grabbed me.”
Jack curved a hand over hers, their linked fingers resting on her leg.
“When he dragged me out, I tried to scream, but I couldn’t seem to get enough air. Then he shoved me into a trunk and no matter how much I pounded and yelled, he just kept driving and driving. Honest to God, it felt like he drove forever.”
She paused, her bottom lip tightening, blinking fast. In a whisper, she said, “I figured I was dead meat, you know? But while I was in that damned trunk, praying like crazy that he wouldn’t rape me, kill me, or both, I decided I didn’t care if I had a dad. I didn’t care if I had a mom or a sister either.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I just w
anted to live.”
He pulled the car around back of a gas station, jerked it to a stop, and turned it off.
With sudden realization, Ronnie looked around. “What are you—?”
Already out the door, Jack stalked around the car, snapped open her door, clicked off her seat belt, and drew her up against him, crushing her close.
She was so damned small, so fragile in his arms—but warm, vital, and alive. Thank God she’d gotten away.
“Er... Jack?” she mumbled against his chest, her lips a tease.
He counted himself lucky that she wasn’t throwing punches or shredding him with her sharp tongue. Cupping the back of her head, he pressed her cheek to his shoulder. And held her. Just that, nothing more.
After a brief bit of confusion, she went pliant against him. “You’re comforting me?”
He nodded. “And me.” Crazy that she sounded so confused. When was the last time anyone had offered her comfort? True, every inch of him thrummed with awareness. He ignored it to focus on the rare pleasure of her acquiescence.
Silky hair teased his mouth as he kissed her temple. A lot of things were starting to make sense now: her insistence on one-night stands, the stark need for independence, the surly defensiveness whenever he got too close.
Only she wasn’t surly right now, and he planned to take advantage of that. “Will you tell me how you got away? Did you know about the interior latch?” Law required an interior latch on trunks, but unfortunately, most people didn’t know about them.
The way she burrowed closer surprised and pleased him. “I found it by accident, really. I was so panicked, that at first all I did was cry.” With disgust, she sneered, “So useless.”
Would she keep ripping out his heart? “You’re allowed to cry, Ronnie.”
“It’s a waste of energy.” In an abrupt effort to change the subject, she pressed back to look up at him, then over him. “God, you’re big.” She tested her fingers against his chest. “Hard, too.”
Much more of that and he’d be looking for a room. Emotion already had a stranglehold on him, putting him on edge. Adding in lust would push him right over the edge. “Before you start seducing me—”
“I wasn’t!” A smile teased the side of her mouth. “Not seriously, anyway.”
“Will you tell me the rest?” Somewhere he hoped to hear a happy ending, like perhaps she’d been reunited, if even briefly, with her family.
As if she didn’t want to, Ronnie wrinkled her nose. “It’s not an uplifting story.”
Jack stroked her hair, encouraging her anyway.
With a sigh of resignation and a mock frown, she said, “I can’t, not while you’re holding me. You’re too distracting.”
Letting her go wasn’t easy, but he made a show of opening his arms and taking two steps back. “Go.”
She leaned on the car, arms folded. “I found the latch by accident and when the trunk opened, I saw we were in this remote area I didn’t recognize. A narrow gravel road in the woods, loads of trees everywhere, and I didn’t see any houses. He’d already been driving slower, but as soon as the trunk opened, he hit the brakes. I damn near fell out, so it didn’t take much for me to hit the ground.” Her gaze held his. “I knew he was coming. I heard his door open.”
Keeping his distance just about killed Jack. He wanted to touch her, soothe her. More than that, though, he wanted her to share. So he held quiet, encouraging her by listening.
She smirked. “I was pretty sure I couldn’t outrun him. I wasn’t very athletic then and I’d been cramped in the car for a while. I knew I had to do something, though, or back in the trunk I’d go, right?” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “With all the trees, branches were on the ground everywhere. I grabbed one. I remember that it was really heavy, too heavy, but I swung it...” Her voice trailed off.
“I hope you fucking killed him.”
His low tone brought her back and she half grinned in a display of unconvincing cockiness. “Close. I still don’t know quite how it happened, but I smashed in his face.” She swallowed, shook her head. “He had a gun, did I tell you that?”
“No,” Jack whispered.
“He went down so fast he didn’t have a chance to use it. My first thought was to run, but I couldn’t see the end of the road, not with the way it wound through the woods. I didn’t know where we were, if maybe he was meeting other people who might show up at any minute.” Stepping away from the car, she paced, behind him, back again—this time standing closer. “The car was there, still idling. I didn’t want to drive forward because that’s the way he was going and I didn’t know what I’d find there.”
Jesus, even panicked and terrorized, she’d been a critical thinker.
“There wasn’t a lot of room to turn around,” she explained, “but I finally managed. And I kept... I kept thinking he’d wake up, that I should have taken his gun, that I’d run into someone on the narrow road and be in trouble all over again.”
“You must have been terrified.” He took a step closer, too, close enough now that they almost touched.
She didn’t move away.
“I think I was on autopilot, you know? I just kept driving until I found a small town. I remember it surprised me when I realized my purse was in the front seat with my phone. I didn’t even know he’d taken it, but I jumped on it like a lifeline and called my mom.”
Not the police? It was a telling reaction.
“I was babbling and stupidly crying and probably not making any sense. Mom didn’t realize that anything was really wrong. She thought I was hysterical over the stuff with my dad and I couldn’t seem to make her understand. But then a cop saw me and stopped and...” She shrugged, pasted on a smile, and announced, “That’s it.”
Jack bent to press a firm kiss to her mouth, startling her. “Not even close.”
She frowned. “Close enough.”
“Ronnie,” he chided softly. “You’ve come this far. Why not tell me the rest?”
Put out, she groaned dramatically. “Fine. The cop talked to Mom and told her he was with me and that I had some bruises and he’d figure it out and get back with her. He was so nice, Jack. He took me to the police station and stayed with me while other cops went to check it out. The guy was still there, and his face was...” She gave a small shake of her head, then moved against him.
Automatically, Jack’s arms came around her, but he resisted the urge to crush her tight. “Dead?”
“No. But I’d broken parts of his face pretty badly.”
“Good.”
When her shoulders trembled, Jack hoped it was with humor and not remembered horror. When she lifted her face he had it confirmed. “Yeah, I didn’t feel any remorse, not over that part anyway. The cop, who was one of the kindest people I’d ever met, found out that the dude had a long criminal record. Not kidnapping or anything, but assault, robbery, stuff like that. It was lights-out for him for a good long while, and then he got extended jail time.”
“I hope he rots.”
“Me, too.” The softest expression he’d ever seen drifted over her features. “You’re like a magician or something. I’ve never talked about this stuff with anyone, but here I am in a gas station, spilling my guts.”
Jack cupped her face. “I’m impressed.”
“That I’m so long-winded?”
That self-deprecating humor made him kiss her, just a quick, firm press. “That you’re such an amazing survivor.” He had a million questions yet, all of them centered on her family. If it weren’t for the exhaustion in her eyes, he’d keep her standing right here for another hour, getting answers while he could.
With any luck, there’d be time enough for that later.
“Want to grab a drink or something while we’re here? I might as well fill up the car, too.”
“Sure.” Her hands slid up and over his shoulde
rs. “This is all pretty damned weird for me. I don’t...” she gestured “...share with people. I don’t talk about the past. I don’t cuddle.”
She didn’t let anyone in—yet she’d opened up for him. “I know. Give it a chance and you might find you like it.” You might find you like me. “What do you think?”
Going on tiptoe, she put her mouth to his.
Jack struggled not to take over as she expertly teased him, building the kiss little by little until their mouths were open, tongues stroking, familiar heat rising between them.
Against his mouth, she breathed, “You sure I can’t convince you that sex would be better than the job?”
Sex would be infinitely better, but he wanted more than one night to see where things would go. With any luck, he’d get both the job and a satisfying sexual relationship. “You are an incredible temptation, more so than any woman I’ve ever known, but I’m not turning down work.”
After thumping her forehead twice to his chest, she stepped back. “You’re going to regret that,” she predicated, but she sounded more resigned than angry. “Okay, so let’s do this.”
“This?” His dick jumped as if sure she meant sex now. His brain hoped she meant something more.
“I’m thinking maybe...maybe we could give the whole working together thing a try.”
“And the sex?”
“Don’t push your luck.” She snagged her purse from the car and turned for the station. After two steps she looked over shoulder. “But I’ll keep my options open.”
Jack grinned. Hell, at this point he’d take what he could get.
* * *
IT WAS THE most torturous four hours of her life. Ronnie wished she had half of Jack’s discipline. He didn’t appear to be suffering. No, he just sat back and let her set the tone.
They finished the trip in companionable conversation with Jack telling her about his house renovations and her telling him more about the brothers who employed her.
As if that satisfied either of them.
He hadn’t even balked at their pickup item, a discarded mannequin. The oddity happened when wasps built a nest around the head, leaving the whole thing misshapen and bizarre. The wasps had since moved on, but it looked truly horrifying and she knew the brothers would love it.
