Kitabı oku: «A Reunion and a Ring»

Chapter One

The headlights sliced through the darkness ahead, glittering off the torrents of rain pounding the windshield of the small car. The wind blew so hard that it took some effort to keep the car on the road. Fingers white-knuckled on the wheel, Jenny Baer leaned forward slightly against her seat belt in an attempt to better see the winding road. The weather had turned nasty earlier than she’d expected when she’d started this almost-three-hour drive.

She’d intended to leave work just after lunch on this Friday, which would have put her here midafternoon, before the rain set in. Instead, she’d been held up with one crisis after another, until it had been after six when she’d finally gotten away. She hadn’t even had a chance to change out of her work clothes. She’d thought of waiting until morning to head out, but she’d been afraid she’d only be detained again, maybe until too late to even consider the rare, three-day vacation she was allowing herself.

Her grandmother would say “I told you so” in that sanctimonious tone she often slipped into. Gran had insisted it was foolish for Jenny to take off on her own and stay alone for a long weekend in a secluded mountain cabin. But then, Gran was always trying to tell her only grandchild how to live her life. Though Jenny believed the advice was generally well-intended, she had to remind her grandmother repeatedly that she was thirty-one years old, held a master’s degree and was the sole owner of a successful clothing-and-accessories boutique.

Gran would be even less supportive of this private retreat if she knew the reason Jenny had decided impulsively to take it. If she’d told her grandmother that prominent attorney Thad Simonson had proposed marriage, Gran would already be arranging an engagement party, maybe interviewing wedding planners. She wouldn’t understand why Jenny had asked for time to think about her answer, though Thad had seemed to consider the request entirely reasonable. After all, he’d said, Jenny’s practicality and judiciousness were two of the many qualities he most admired about her. She had accepted the comment as a compliment, as she knew he’d intended—though maybe he’d been just a bit too prosaic about it?

Thad was out of state for a couple weeks on one of his frequent business trips, so Jenny had taken the opportunity to get away for a few days herself. She needed time to think about the ramifications of accepting his proposal without the distractions of constantly ringing phones and never-ending meetings with employees, customers, contractors and sales reps.

Lightning flashed in the distance through the curtains of rain, silhouetting the surrounding hills against the angry sky. The full force of the early-June storm was still a few miles away, but getting closer. What had she been thinking heading into the backwoods with this looming? She was the least impulsive person she knew—at least, that was the way she’d lived for the past decade or so—and yet, here she was, inching through a downpour in the middle of nowhere, heading for a cabin in the Arkansas Ozarks with no housekeeping staff, no room service, none of the amenities she preferred for her infrequent escapes. All with less than forty-eight hours of planning, another anomaly for her.

Considering everything, it was a wonder the cabin had even been available on such short notice, but the too-cheery rental agent had assured her it was ready to rent. Jenny had assumed the weather forecasts had scared off other prospective vacationers, but she’d planned to stay inside to think and work in blessed isolation, so the prospect of a rainy weekend hadn’t deterred her. This storm, on the other hand, threatened to be more than she’d bargained for.

She turned onto a steeply rising gravel lane pitted with deep, rapidly filling puddles. The car skidded to the right as she made the turn, hydroplaning on the water beginning to creep over the road. She gasped and tightened her grip on the wheel, letting out her breath slowly when the tires regained traction, digging into the gravel and forcing their way uphill.

She gave a little moan of relief when the cabin appeared in front of her as a darker shape in the headlights. No lights burned in the windows, and there seemed to be no security lights outside. It was hard to tell if the place had changed much since she’d last been here, almost eleven years ago. Lizzie, the rather ditzy rental agent, had explained that there was a carport behind the cabin, but since there was no covered walkway from there to the back door, Jenny parked as close as she could get to the front porch.

Her luggage was in the trunk, but the purse, computer case and overnight bag in the front passenger seat held everything she needed until morning. Arms full, she jumped out of the car and made a mad scramble toward the covered porch. She cursed beneath her breath as she fumbled the key into the lock. Just from that brief dash, her dark hair was soaked, the layers hanging limply around her face and sticking to her cheek. Her once-crisp, white designer blouse was now sodden and transparent, and her gray linen pants were wet to the skin. Mud splattered her expensive sandals and she’d twisted her ankle on the slippery steps. This was what she got, she chided herself, for coming to a place with no eager doorman to assist her.

“I told you so,” Gran’s imaginary voice whispered in her ear, making her scowl as she shoved through the door.

The interior of the cabin was stuffy and dark, lit only by the almost-constant flashes of lightning through the windows. In the strobe-like illumination, she could see that she had entered a spacious open room with a kitchen and dining area at the far end, and a big stone fireplace on the wall to her right. It was all exactly as she remembered.

She hadn’t anticipated the feelings that almost overwhelmed her when she walked in, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving a dull ache in her chest. She’d told herself she’d sought out this cabin only because it was the first place that had popped into her mind when she’d looked for a peaceful hideaway for the serious deliberations facing her. She’d reassured herself she was drawn here because she’d recalled the natural beauty, the soothing backdrop of birdsongs and mountain breezes. The long Labor Day weekend she’d spent here with her college boyfriend’s family had been one of the most pleasant holidays of her life. It had seemed a lucky omen when she’d made a couple of internet searches and phone calls and discovered, to her surprise, that not only was the cabin still on the market for vacation rentals, it was also available this very week.

She’d thought she could enjoy the setting without dwelling on the copious tears she’d shed by the end of that year, after a bitterly painful breakup. She’d thought she had long since dealt with that youthful heartbreak so she could remember the good times and forget the bad, the way any mature adult looked back at the foibles of youth. Maybe she’d even thought this would be a fitting way to put a final closure to her one previous serious relationship before committing completely to a new, permanent union.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have been quite so impetuous in booking this cabin. Maybe some old memories should remain locked away, without such tangible reminders.

Shaking her head in exasperation with herself, she set her bags at her feet and fumbled for a wall switch. She hoped the light would banish those old images back into the shadows of the past where they belonged. Nothing happened when she flipped the lever. Great. The storm had knocked out the power. She stood just inside the room, debating whether she should get back in the car and make a break for civilization, preferably someplace new and memory-free. As if in answer, a hard gust of wind rattled the windows, followed by a crash of thunder that sounded like the closest one yet. Okay, maybe she’d stay inside for a while. She tugged her phone out of her pocket, using the screen for light. A very weak signal, she noted in resignation, but the time was displayed on the screen. Almost 10:00 p.m.

She might as well peel out of these wet clothes and try to get a little sleep. Suddenly exhausted, she kicked off her muddy shoes and carried her overnight bag toward the open doorway on the left side of the room. Tomorrow morning, after the tempest had passed, she would decide what to do if the power wasn’t restored. She’d anticipated that by the end of this retreat she would have a pile of paperwork completed, crucial decisions made, the rest of her life neatly planned out. Had she been hopelessly naive?

She had her blouse unbuttoned by the time she reached the doorway. She couldn’t wait to be out of these wet things and into her comfy satin nightshirt. She hoped the mattress was decent. Not that it mattered much. She was tired enough to sleep on a bag of rocks.

The bedroom was tiny, taken up almost entirely by the bed. Just as that fact registered, she stumbled hard over something on the floor. Her overnight bag fell from her hand and landed squarely on one bare foot. Pain shot all the way up her leg, making her yelp and hop. Her phone hit the floor, screen down, plunging the room into total darkness. She fell onto the bed.

“What the hell?” The sleepy, startled male voice erupted from the darkness as hands closed around Jenny’s arms.

Instinctively, she reached out, and her palms landed on a very warm bare chest sprinkled with wiry hair. She choked out a cry and shoved herself backward. She’d have fallen off the bed if the man hadn’t been holding on to her.

“Let go of me!” she ordered sharply, barely suppressed panic making her throat tight. “What are you doing here? I’m calling the police.”

“Lady, I am the police. And you’re breaking and entering.”

She struggled to her feet. Holding on to her with one hand, the man sat up on the bed and reached across with his other hand to fumble around on the nightstand. Cold fluorescent light beamed in a small circle from an emergency lantern he’d set beside the bed, making her squint to adjust her vision. Seeing the man who still gripped her arm did not exactly inspire confidence.

His shaggy hair, dark blond with lighter streaks, tumbled around a hard-jawed face stubbled with a couple days’ growth of dark beard. She couldn’t discern the color of his narrowed eyes, but she could see that his mouth was a hard slash bracketed by lines that probably deepened into long dimples when—or if—he smiled. His bare shoulders were tanned and linebacker broad. Dark hair scattered across his hard chest and narrowed to the thin sheet pooled at his waist. A large white bandage covered his right shoulder, but the evidence of injury made him look no more vulnerable. Overall, she got the immediate first impression of coiled strength, simmering temper and almost overwhelming masculinity.

It took another moment to realize that she knew him. Or had once known him. Quite well actually. Had his fingers not been biting into her arm, she might have thought her weary, memory-flooded mind was playing tricks on her.

“Gavin?”

Surely fate’s sense of humor wasn’t this twisted!

He blinked up at her and she wondered for a moment if he even recognized her in the shadows. Though he didn’t release her, his fingers relaxed their grip. “Jen?”

Of all the improbable possibilities she could have imagined for the start of this poorly planned vacation, falling into bed with Gavin Locke wouldn’t have even been on her list. She stared mutely at him, unable to think of a thing to say. Her heart pounded in her chest, her throat suddenly so tight she couldn’t draw air in, much less force words out. Once again memories filled her mind in a rush of images so vivid that she could almost feel his hands sweeping over her bare skin, could almost taste his lips on hers, could almost hear his low, hoarse groans of arousal and satisfaction.

Even as her face warmed and her pulse raced in reaction to those arousing flashbacks, she struggled to tamp them down again. She’d simply been caught off guard, she told herself irritably. It was only natural that unexpectedly finding Gavin in bed, half-naked, would remind her of all the times she’d seen him that way before. Just because she’d long since moved on didn’t mean she’d forgotten her reckless, youthful love affair. Just as remembering didn’t mean she hadn’t put it all safely behind her.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “How did you get in?”

His words roused her into a response, though she wished her voice emerged a little steadier. “I came in through the front door. What are you doing here? Did you break in?”

“Did I... No, I didn’t break in! I used my key.”

Following his sweeping gesture, she glanced toward the nightstand. Beside the plastic lantern sat a couple of medication bottles, a holstered handgun and a metal ring holding several keys. She swallowed, unable for the moment to look away from the weapon.

“Look, Jenny, I’m running on too little sleep, and I’m fairly pissed that someone got all the way into my bed without me hearing a thing, so maybe you could start explaining. Why are you here?” His voice was a growl underlain with steel. It was deeper than she remembered, but his cranky tone was familiar enough. She’d heard it often during the last few weeks of their ill-fated college romance.

She lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed by his mood. “I rented the cabin from Lizzie, the agent at the leasing company. I paid in advance for the weekend, and I have the paperwork to prove it in the other room.”

His fingers loosened even more in apparent surprise, and she took the opportunity to snatch her arm away and move a step back from the bed.

He seemed to process her explanation slowly. Perhaps his mind was fuzzy from whatever was in those prescription bottles. “Lizzie rented the cabin to you?”

She nodded. “She said there was a cancelation and that it was available.”

“Lizzie is a...”

A clap of thunder drowned out his words. Probably for the best. When the noise subsided a bit, Gavin shook his head, tossed off the sheet and swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Though she’d seen him in less, that had been a long time ago, and seeing him like this now was not helping to ease the awkwardness of this encounter.

She became suddenly aware that she was standing in front of him with her wet blouse hanging open, revealing the lacy bra beneath. She reached up hastily to tug the shirt closed, fumbling with buttons. Her foot throbbed, she didn’t know where her phone had landed and her hair still dripped around her face. In her wildest imagination, she couldn’t have predicted her retreat starting out like this.

Seemingly unconcerned with his own state of undress, Gavin stood just at the edge of the lantern’s reach. Lightning flashed through the nearby window, revealing, then shadowing, his hard face and strong torso. As inappropriate as it was, considering the circumstances, she still felt a hard tug of feminine response somewhere deep inside her. The years had been very good to Gavin Locke.

She cleared her throat. “If you want to see my paperwork...”

“Come on, Jenny, you know I believe you. Besides, I’ve dealt with Lizzie enough recently to know that your story is completely plausible.”

The wind howled louder outside, so Jenny had to speak up to ask, “Are you saying she rented you the cabin for tonight, too?”

“She didn’t have to rent it to me. I own this cabin now.”

“Oh, crap.” When had he bought it? Why? She had a vague memory of it belonging to an old friend of his family’s, but she’d never imagined Gavin would now be the owner.

“You can say that again.” He shook his head in disgust. “I told Lizzie not to rent the place this week, that I needed it myself. I should have known she’d get it mixed up. She’s new at the job and she’s incompetent.”

“I...” A gust of wind blew so hard she could feel the cabin being buffeted by it. Something hit the roof above them and she cringed, glancing up instinctively. She couldn’t help thinking again of the tall trees surrounding the place. She suspected a branch had just fallen on the roof, and she hoped it wouldn’t be followed by the whole tree.

Gavin looked up, too, and then staggered, as if doing so had made him dizzy. He put out a hand to steady himself and nearly knocked the lantern off the nightstand. Without thinking, Jenny moved to steady him, her hands closing over his shoulders. He flinched away from her grip on his bandaged shoulder, and it was obvious that she’d hurt him. Even as she snatched her arms back, she realized that his skin had seemed unnaturally warm.

Frowning, she reached out again, this time laying her palm tentatively against his cheek. She tried to keep her touch relatively impersonal, merely that of a concerned nurse. “You have a fever.”

He brushed her off. “I was sleeping. I’m probably just warm from that.”

“No, it’s definitely a low-grade fever. Is your shoulder wound infected?”

“I’m taking antibiotics,” he muttered.

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. Saw my doc before I drove up from Little Rock. He said it’s not too bad and the meds will clear it up soon.”

She stepped back. “Have you taken anything for the fever?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve got some aspirin in my bag. Maybe you should lie back down while I try to find it. If I could borrow the lantern?”

One hand at the back of his neck, he stared at her. “You broke in here to take my temperature and give me aspirin? Are you sure my mother didn’t send you?”

Oddly enough, the mention of his mother made her relax a bit. She had always liked his mother. “I didn’t break in. And I’m leaving immediately. I apologize for the misunderstanding. Do you want the aspirin before I go or not?”

Looking steadier, he scooped up a pair of jeans from the floor and stepped into them. She noticed only then that she’d tripped over a pair of his shoes. He must have pretty much stripped and fallen into bed earlier. If he’d taken a pain pill beforehand, that could explain why he’d slept so heavily he hadn’t heard her entrance over the noisy weather.

He swung an arm in the direction of the single window in the little bedroom. The glass rattled in the frame from the force of the wind blowing outside, and a veritable fireworks exhibit played across the slice of sky visible from where she stood. Thunder had become a constant grouchy roar, as if the night itself was grudgingly surrendering to the storm.

“You aren’t going back out in that. The way that rain’s coming down, I wouldn’t be surprised if the road is flooded. And the full force of the storm hasn’t even hit yet. We’re in for worse before it passes.”

She thought of the water already creeping over the road when she’d approached the cabin. That frightening moment when she’d hydroplaned. She swallowed. “I’ll be fine,” she said, wishing she sounded a bit more confident.

She bent to retrieve her dropped phone just as Gavin took a step toward her. “Don’t be foolish. The storm is too...”

The collision knocked her flat on her behind and nearly caused Gavin to sprawl on top of her. Somehow he steadied himself, though it involved flailing that made him grunt in pain from his injured shoulder.

Sitting sprawled at his feet, she shook her head. Could this ridiculous evening get any worse? Or was she tempting capricious fate to even ask?

* * *

Gavin was beginning to wonder just what was in those pills he’d taken before he’d turned in. Was he hallucinating? Or had a gorgeous, wet woman with a smoking body revealed by an open blouse really fallen out of the storm and into his bed? A woman right out of the memories he thought he’d locked away long ago, though they’d escaped a few times to haunt his most erotic dreams. Was he dreaming again now?

No. The way she sat on the floor glaring up at him told him this was no fantasy. The dream-Jenny had been much more approachable.

Muttering an apology, he reached down to haul her to her feet with his good arm. He released her as soon as he was sure she was steady on her feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” his uninvited guest conceded. “I was picking up my phone. I dropped it when I stumbled over your shoes.”

Which made it still his fault, in a way, but he wasn’t going to get into a circular argument with her. “Are you expecting anyone else to arrive tonight?”

Was he unintentionally intruding on what she’d planned to be a romantic, rustic retreat? He told himself the possibility annoyed him only because he didn’t want to have to deal with yet another intruder. What other reason could there be after all these years?

“No. I was going to hide out here alone for a few days to get some work done without interruptions.”

He was still having trouble clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t begin to understand why Jenny had come to this particular place to work. What the hell was he supposed to do with her now?

An unwelcome recollection from the last time they’d been together here slammed into his mind in response to what should have been a rhetorical question. He could almost see himself and Jenny, naked and entwined, lying on a pile of their clothes in a secluded, shaded clearing. Laughing and aroused, they’d made good use of the stolen hour. His blood still heated in response to the distant echoes of their gasps and moans.

Shoving the memories fiercely to the back of his mind, he half turned away from her. The storm assaulting the windows made it obvious she wasn’t leaving immediately. He released a heavy sigh. “Maybe you remember there’s another bedroom at the back of the cabin, behind the kitchen. You can crash there tonight, and we’ll get this all figured out in the morning.”

“Spend the night here? With you?”

Pain radiated from his shoulder, and his head was starting to pound. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a couple days. Patience was not his strong suit at the best of times, but he’d lost any semblance of it tonight.

“I didn’t suggest sleeping in the same bed,” he snapped. “The other room has a lock on the door. Use it, if you’re so damned afraid of me. Hell, take my weapon and sleep with it under your pillow, if it makes you feel better.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you, Gavin.”

“Great. I’m not afraid of you, either.”

A soft laugh escaped her, sounding as if it had been startled out of her. “You’re in pain,” she said. “I’ll get the aspirin.”

“I had a pain pill before I went to sleep. Probably shouldn’t take aspirin on top of it.”

“Oh. You’re right. How long has it been?”

“Couple hours, maybe. I can take one every four hours, but I don’t usually need them that often.”

“What did you do to your shoulder?”

“Long story.” And one he had no intention of getting into at the moment. “There’s another emergency lantern in the kitchen. I’ll help you find it. I’m thirsty, anyway.”

“Thank you.”

He saw her glance up nervously when something else hit the roof, and he wondered if she was anxious about the storm. He remembered that she’d never been a fan of storms. Yet, she’d been prepared to go back out in it? He shook his head.

Carefully pulling on a loose shirt, he picked up the lantern and moved past her toward the doorway. He heard her pick up her bag and hurry after him, trying to stay close to the light. He retrieved the second fluorescent lantern from the kitchen counter, pushed the power button, then turned to offer it to his visitor. She accepted with barely concealed eagerness.

He could see her more clearly in the double lantern light. She’d been very pretty just out of her teens, but the intervening decade had only added to her attraction.

Her dark hair, which she’d once worn long and straight, now waved in layers around her oval face. He remembered how it had once felt to have his hands buried in its soft depths.

Her chocolate-brown eyes studied him warily from beneath long, dark lashes. There had been a time when she’d gazed at him with open adulation.

She was still slender, though perhaps a bit curvier than before. He’d once known every inch of her body as well as his own, and he noted the slight differences now. He tried to stay objective, but he was only human. And she looked damned good.

Her expensive-looking clothes were somewhat worse for wear after her jog through the rain. He wasn’t one to notice brands, but even he recognized the logo on the overnight bag she carried. Apparently she had achieved the success she had always aspired to.

He hadn’t kept up with her—quite deliberately—but his mother had mentioned a few months ago that she’d seen Jenny’s photo in the society section of the local newspaper. She’d watched his face a bit too closely as she’d commented casually that Jenny had been photographed at some sort of community service awards dinner for Little Rock’s young professionals. She’d added that Jenny was reported to be dating a member of one of central Arkansas’s most prominent and long-established families. He’d answered somewhat curtly that he read the sports pages, not the society gossip, and that he had no particular interest in who his long-ago college girlfriend was now dating. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded in convincing his mother that Jenny never even crossed his mind these days.

So what had really made this country-club princess choose to vacation at his rustic fishing cabin? As unlikely a coincidence as it was, he had no doubt that she was as dismayed to have found him here as he was that she’d shown up so unexpectedly. The genuine shock on her face had been unmistakable.

He reached into a cabinet and drew out a glass. “Are you thirsty? I doubt there’s anything cold in the fridge, but I can offer tap water. Or I think we’ve got some herbal tea bags. It’s a gas stove, so I can heat water for you, if you want.”

Despite the circumstances, he was trying to be a reasonably gracious host, though he wasn’t the sociable type at the best of times. After all, it wasn’t Jenny’s fault the agency he’d hired to rent out the cabin had recently employed a total airhead. He’d have more than a few pointed words for someone there tomorrow.

Hal Woodman, an old friend of his father’s, had built this cabin on the Buffalo River as a fishing retreat and rental property when Gavin was just a kid. Hal had let Gavin’s parents use it frequently for family vacations. A few years later, Gavin’s dad bought the cabin from his then-ailing friend. Gavin and his sister inherited the place when their father died a couple years ago. His sister lived out of state now with her military husband, so Gavin had bought her portion. To defray the costs, he rented it out when he wasn’t using it—which was more often than he liked because of his work schedule. The cabin was close enough to hiking trails, float trip outfitters and a couple of tourist-friendly towns that it rarely sat empty for long. Yet, had anyone suggested that Jenny Baer would be one of his weekend renters, he would have labeled that person delusional.