He released her immediately,
but made no move to separate his body from the nearness of hers. When he
looked her square in the eye, she saw anger and something more. Regret?
"When it's right between a
man and a woman, it doesn't matter who or how many have come before. Or
at least it shouldn't," he said.
She knew he hadn't been pining
away for her all these years and certainly hadn't lived a celibate life.
But she had pined for him, year after year, until she had grown to hate
him. And since the day she'd asked Kent for a divorce, she hadn't been
with a man; hadn't wanted an intimate relationship ever again. Knowing
that she would never have to let Kent or any other man touch her had been
such a great relief.
"And how many times has it been
right between you and some woman?" Lane asked.
He stared at her as if the answer
to her question should be obvious. "It's been good. It's been
fun. It's been exciting. And it's been satisfying. Every time I've taken
a woman, I've enjoyed it."
Just as she had thought. Once a
stud, always a stud. If she gave herself to him, she would risk everything
because she would fall in love with him again. But for him, she would be
just another easy lay. The thought of being one more notch on Johnny Mack
Cahill's bedpost didn't appeal to her in the least.
"I should go," she said,
but her feet wouldn't cooperate, leaving her planted directly in front
of the man from whom she wanted to escape.
"Mm-mm." He nodded.
"Please, call me after you've
spoken to Mr. Cortez."
He nodded again.
She finally forced her legs into
motion and headed for the exit. After opening the door, she halted, pivoted
halfway around and said, "If you really want to be a father to
Will, I'll help you. It won't be easy, and I can't guarantee that he'll ever
accept you into his life; but he needs to know that a better man than Kent
Graham is his father."
"Thanks, Lane."
"Don't thank me. Not yet."
She managed to plaster a weak smile on her face. "And I'll warn you
now. If you ever hurt that boy, I'll make you sorry you came back to Noble's
Crossing."
"Always the mama tiger protecting
her cub," Johnny Mack said.
"Yes, I am. And if you're thinking
I killed Kent to protect Will, then you're right to think that way. I would
have killed Kent, but someone else beat me to it."
"I wish I had been the one. I
wish I'd broken his damn neck a long time ago. Before he ever laid a hand
on you."
She could no longer sustain the
quavering smile or the false bravado. If she didn't leave now, she would
probably fall into a million shattered pieces right here in front of
Johnny Mack. And like Humpty Dumpty, all the king's horses and all the king's
men couldn't put her back together again.
"Call before you come by the
house," Lane said. "And I'll make sure Will's there."
Rushing outside, she didn't realize
Johnny Mack had followed her, not until she heard his footsteps. When
she paused and glanced over her shoulder, he stopped and looked at her as
if he had something to say.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Sex has been a lot of things
for me, but it's never been perfect. I've never thought to myself that
this time she's the right woman, the perfect woman for me."
"Oh."
"I just wanted you to know.''
He turned and walked back into his motel room.
When he closed the door, Lane took
a deep breath and ran to her car. Don't think about what he said, she warned
herself. If you think you’re the woman with whom it could be perfect, that
you 're that one and only right woman for him, you 're fooling yourself. Having
sex with Johnny Mack would be wrong. For you and for him.
But, dear God, it would be good.
So good.
Johnny Mack eased back in the cushioned,
wrought-iron chaise longue and looked over the rim of his sunglasses at
his son horsing around on the far end of the pool with a couple of his buddies.
George Markham III and Theodore "Ted" Upton IV. Both boys were
sons of Magnolia Avenue parents. And Will was one of them, a blue blood
through and through, despite his questionable lineage. Perhaps all
that was required to be a blue blood was being raised as one of the privileged
few.
Back in the good old days when he
had been the gardener's assistant, he had listened to the squeals and
giggles and hardy laughter coming from behind the fence that enclosed
the pool area on the Noble estate. And he had wondered what it would be
like to belong to Lane's circle of friends, to have nothing more to do
on a summer day than play around the pool.
When he had first gone to work for
Bill Noble, he'd been sixteen and seldom had more than pocket change,
except when Wiley won big at cards, which wasn't often. During that first
summer, late in the day, when all the kids had gone home and the Nobles were
eating dinner in their elegant dining room, he had slipped into the pool
area and hoped Lillie Mae hadn't gotten around to cleaning up yet. Sometimes
he had found half a slice of a sandwich or an untouched cookie or some
chips just lying on a plate. And there had usually been tea or cola in a
glass, diluted in strength by melted ice cubes. He hadn't considered it
stealing to eat the leftovers that would have otherwise ended up in
the trash. And he suspected that Lillie Mae had deliberately left the
cleanup until because she had known that without those meager crumbs,
he would often as not have gone to bed hungry. And she had known just as surely
that he would never have taken a handout from her.
That had been twenty years and a
lifetime of regrets ago. He reminded himself that he had left behind
that wild, angry, young hellion the day he'd left Noble's Crossing. The
day he had told Lane that he couldn't take her with him. But no matter how
successful, how rich he became, a part of that hungry teenager still lived
within him. A part of him was still hungry, still angry and still knew that he
wasn't good enough to kiss Lane Noble's pretty little feet.
Glancing down at the patio floor
beside the chaise, he saw ten red toenails. Ten toes. Two size-six plastic
pool sandals. As he lifted his gaze, a pair of shapely calves came into
view. A red fishnet robe hit her mid-thigh, its open cutwork leaving little
to the imagination. A form-fitting red swimsuit, with high-cut legs and
low-cut back accentuated every curve of a well-proportioned hour-glass
shape. Everything male within him reacted to the sight of delicious
female flesh.
Lane stood over him, a glass of
iced tea in each hand. "I thought you might be thirsty. Lillie Mae made
up a fresh pitcher of tea."
After pulling himself up into a
sitting position, Johnny Mack straddled the middle of the chaise and reached
out to take one of the glasses Lane held. "Thanks."
She nodded to the threesome frolicking
in the pool. "Will seems to be enjoying himself. It's the first time
since Kent's death that I've seen him genuinely smile." Lane seated
herself in a padded, wrought-iron chair stationed at the matching table
over which a huge umbrella shaded a wide circle from the afternoon
sun. "Is he still avoiding you?"
"What do you think?"
"I'm sorry. I'd thought by now
he would at least be speaking to you without my instigating the conversation."
Lane lifted the glass to her lips and sipped the cold tea.
"He's been doing a very good
job of avoiding me, despite the fact that I've been around every day for
nearly a week now. He's damned determined to pretend I don't
exist."
"I warned you that winning
him over wouldn't be easy."
Lane set her glass on the table and
picked up a bottle of sun block. After squirting a small amount into her
hand, she dotted some on her nose and rubbed it in. Johnny Mack noticed
that her nose and her shoulders still freckled when the rest of her tanned
nicely. In so many ways she was still that sweet little girl who, like her
father, had been kind to him. But in other ways, she had become a woman
he didn't know. Was that how she thought of him, as an old friend who had become
a stranger?
"After this coming weekend,
he'll be back in school," Lane said. "I dread to think about
what some of the kids might say to him. After all, his father was murdered
three weeks ago and there's a good chance his mother may be arrested for
the crime."
"He's tough. He can handle a
few smart-ass remarks." Johnny Mack gulped down half a glass of tea,
then placed his glass beside Lane's on the table.
"I'm worried that he might
handle himself the way you used to do and wind up getting into
fights." Lane sighed. "I've even thought about sending him away
to school, but I honestly don't think he'd go. He wouldn't want to leave
me. And to be honest, I can't bear the thought of being separated from
him. If I'm convicted of killing Kent and am sent to prison, I don't-"
"Quinn has told you that even
if you're indicted, it's highly unlikely you'll be convicted of anything,
not even manslaughter." Johnny Mack leaned back in the chaise and
stretched out his legs. "The police don't have enough evidence.
And what they do have is circumstantial. Besides, if the grand jury is
fool enough to indict you, we'll just follow through and find out who really
killed Kent. The PI I have on retainer arrived in Noble's Crossing four
days ago, and he's doing the police's job by searching for other suspects.
If there's anyone with a motive, who had the opportunity to kill Kent,
Wyatt Foster will unearth them."
"You're spending a fortune
on trying to prove my innocence."
He could tell, even though sunshades
protected her eyes, that she was looking directly at him. Her body leaned,
ever so slightly, in his direction.
"I have a fortune to
spend," he said.
"So you do." Lane sighed
deeply. "I don't think either of us ever thought the day would come
when I'd be a charity case and you'd be my benefactor."
Before he could reply, she got up,
shed her see-through robe and ran to the edge of the pool. Just watching
the way she moved-the sway of her round hips, the fullness of her bouncing
breasts, the curve of her slender waist-aroused him painfully. Spending
hours each day with her had become torture. She was the only woman in his
entire life he had ever wanted desperately and not had. In his youth,
he had appeased his desire with other women. With lots of other women.
But even then, sex with another woman hadn't diminished his desire for
Lane. And now, when he hadn't been with another woman since arriving in
Noble's Crossing, finding a way to persuade Lane to become his lover
had reached the point of obsession.
Were her breasts as round and full
as they appeared to be? Would her nipples be large and dark or small and
pink? Was the hair between her legs thick? Curly? Would he be able to
bring her to a climax with the touch of his fingers, the attention of his
mouth? When she came, would she scream or whimper? Would she cry out his
name or moan softly?
"Miss Lane, there's a call
for you." Lillie Mae entered the patio through the kitchen door,
halting Lane just as she started to dive into the pool.
"Who is it?"
Lillie Mae handed Lane the portable
phone and waited, a worried look in her weary gray eyes. "It's James
Ware."
Johnny Mack shot up off the chaise,
and by the time Lane held the phone to her ear, he stood behind her, his
hand on her shoulder. She quivered, a barely discernible shudder rippling
through her body.
"Hello, James."
Johnny Mack leaned closer, inclining
his head so that when she held the telephone a fraction away from her
ear, he was able to hear James's part of the conversation.
"Lane, I wanted to warn
you," James said. "The grand jury's handed down an indictment
against you for felony murder. Now's the time for that damn good lawyer
your friend hired to take over from me. Buddy will be there to arrest you
this afternoon."
"Yes, I understand. Thank
you, James."
"I'm as sorry as I can be about
this. I don't think you killed Kent, but… as you well know, nobody around here
listens to me. I wish I could do something to help you. I wish… hell, I
wish I wasn't scared shitless of my wife."
"It's all right. I appreciate
your forewarning me."
Johnny Mack took the phone from
her and tossed it onto the chaise longue. Lane swayed ever so slightly.
Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her waist to
lend her support.
"What was he forewarning you
about?" Lillie Mae asked.
"The grand jury has indicted
me for Kent's murder."
Will pulled himself out of the pool
and wrapped a towel around his shoulders. "What's going on?"
Lane clung to Johnny Mack.
"Will's going to be so upset by this."
"Dammit, woman, for once,
think of yourself," Johnny Mack told her.
"Mama?" Will halted several
feet away, his gaze riveted to Johnny Mack's arm around Lane's waist.