Against the Wind (8 page)

“I've seen them.”

“Speedway Manufacturing—a small company that makes specialty racing tires. It's kind of an offshoot of Blacktop.”

“What else?”

“Axis Mining. As I recall, they closed down operations a couple of years ago. Andrew used to own a company that made ore crushing machines, but he sold that sometime back.” She looked at another name on the list. “Hollister Equipment is a company that leases heavy machinery for big construction projects. I'm pretty sure
that was Andrew's connection to Kozak. Kozak Construction builds roads, mostly. I'm not sure what else.”

“That it?”

“There's one more listed—Southgate Demolition. They tear down buildings. That's all I know.”

“It's a start.”

“I guess. But what exactly are we looking for?”

“I'm not sure. If Kozak was doing something illegal, we need to figure out what it was.”

“So how do we do that?”

He shook his head. “I wish my brother was back in the country. He's got lots of friends in low places, people who can dig up dirt when no one else can.”

“When will he be home?”

“Not soon enough. We'll have to do the best we can while we're here.”

“There's something that's been bothering me,” she said. “I've been thinking about the man who accosted me in the parking lot…I'm not convinced he works for Kozak.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't know exactly…just a couple of things he said.”

“If he isn't Kozak's man, there may be more than one company Andrew was blackmailing.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” Sarah sighed and leaned back in the deep red leather seat as Jackson stuck the key in the ignition.

“It's late and both of us are tired,” he said. “We'll get something to eat, get a good night's sleep, and start again in the morning.”

Sarah glanced over at Jackson. His gaze locked with hers and her heartbeat quickened. It wasn't food
he wanted, those hot brown eyes said. And it wasn't sleep.

As the engine roared to life, Sarah ignored the flood of heat that roared into her bloodstream.

T
hey decided on room service. As much as Jackson liked the idea of taking Sarah to one of the fine restaurants along the beach, he also liked the notion of sharing a meal with her alone.

He tried to tell himself not to think what might happen after they had finished eating and enjoyed a bottle of wine. He told himself not to imagine running his hands through all that glorious chestnut hair, capturing her face between his hands and kissing her until he'd had his fill. He tried not to think of undressing her, carrying her into the bedroom, easing her down on the king-size bed and making love to her.

She was exhausted, worried, and on top of that was the not-so-small matter that the last man she'd been with had abused her so badly she had wound up in the hospital.

Letting him make love to her was probably the last thing she wanted.

They ordered two filets, medium rare, and Jackson added a bottle of Stags' Leap, Napa Valley cabernet. The plates came piping hot with fully loaded baked potatoes, two big green salads, and there was strawberry shortcake for dessert.

The server had placed the food on the linen-draped table in front of the sliding glass doors to the balcony overlooking the ocean. Mostly Jackson just picked at the food on his plate, his mind on Sarah and how pretty she looked in the moonlight streaming in off the white sand beach and how much he wanted her.

He had no idea what Sarah was thinking. She made pleasant conversation and smiled often enough, but she didn't eat even as much as he did.

When the meal was finished, Jackson rounded the table and pulled out her chair.

“We've got a big day tomorrow.” They planned to start with Hollister Equipment, investigate the connection to Marty Kozak, and make some calls, see what they might learn. “Why don't you go on to bed, try to get some sleep?”

Exactly what he knew he wouldn't be able to do—not with Sarah in a bed on the other side of the wall.

“I suppose we should.” But she didn't move away from him, and the longer he stayed close to her, the harder it was going to be. He was so damned hard now he ached with every heartbeat.

“Good night,” he said gruffly. Turning, he walked into his bedroom.

It took every ounce of his will.

Jackson closed the door and leaned against it.
Dammit
to hell.
But it wasn't fair to Sarah to press her. Not after what she'd been through.

With a sigh, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it over the end of the bed, took off his loafers and socks, then padded over to his suitcase and pulled out a paperback book. He tried not to listen for sounds in the room next door. It was going to be torture just knowing she was in there. Knowing he couldn't kiss her, touch her, couldn't pull off her nightgown and run his tongue over those soft, full breasts.

Jackson groaned.

 

Sarah paced the bedroom. She knew he wanted her. Or at least she thought he did. All through dinner, whenever he looked at her, the heat in his eyes made her giddy. Desire was there in every gesture, every glance. She'd been sure when they were finished with the meal, he would kiss her, do something that would lead to making love.

Instead, he had practically run from the room.

Sarah paced the bedroom. She remembered the kiss they had shared in front of Gran's house. True, she had been a little frightened. She had never been with a man whose passions ran so hot—and clearly his did. She had known it the moment he had touched her.

But mostly she had been afraid of herself—of her own fierce need, stronger than she ever could have guessed.

It was that kiss, she believed, that kept Jackson in his room, instead of in her bed. He was afraid he would frighten her, that he might lose control and hurt her in some way. He knew how cruel Andrew had been and he was going out of his way to protect her.

From himself.

Sarah glanced at the clock. Half an hour had passed and still desire pulsed through her. Her skin felt so sensitive the slight breeze coming in through the bedroom window seemed to scorch her flesh. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds and the place between her legs throbbed and burned.

All day she had thought of what it would be like to make love with Jackson. She had been so sure, so certain it would happen tonight.

She paused in front of the mirror, opened the silk robe she had put on in the hope he would come. At thirty-two, her body was still firm, her waist small and her hips nicely rounded. Her breasts were a little heavier since she'd had a child, but they were high and nicely shaped and as she looked at them in the mirror they seemed to swell with anticipation.

A noise sounded in the room next door.

Jackson was still awake. What would he do if she simply walked into his room? Would he send her away? Or would he take charge, as was his nature? Would he make love to her as she had dreamed he would do?

Her shoulders straightened. There was only one way to find out.

Refusing to allow the terrifying thought of how she would feel if he rejected her, she walked into the living room, crossed the carpet, and knocked on his bedroom door. She didn't wait for permission to enter, just turned the knob and walked in.

Jackson lay propped on a pillow, his rugged, handsome features immersed in the pages of a book. He spotted her, came up off the bed in the same tan slacks he'd had on earlier—and nothing else. Sarah sucked in a
breath. He was tall and lean and all solid muscle—wide, muscled shoulders; slabs of muscle across his chest; an abdomen laddered with sinew. A light furring of dark hair spanned his chest and arrowed down into the waistband of his slacks. She had never seen a man with a more beautiful body.

“You must…must have kept up your boxing.”

He stood there unmoving, his chest heaving in and out. “There's a gym in the basement at the house. I like to stay in shape.”

She wet her lips. “Yes…I—I can see that.”

He reached for the shirt lying across the foot of his bed, but Sarah held up a hand.

“Don't. You look perfect the way you are.”

Dark brown eyes burned into her. “Sarah…”

“Do you know how badly I want to touch you? It's all I can do not to—”

“God, Sarah…” He didn't let her finish, just moved the short distance between them and hauled her into his arms.

His kiss was hot and fierce, a wild, burning, taking kiss that turned her inside out. He opened the front of her robe and one of his suntanned hands cupped a breast, began to mold and caress her.

“I've dreamed of this,” he whispered, sliding the robe off her shoulders, lowering his head to take the fullness into his mouth. He tugged softly. His tongue curled around the hardened tip and it felt so good she swayed against him. She slid her fingers into his thick dark hair and arched her back to give him better access.

“Jackson…”

A shudder passed through him. His white teeth fastened on a nipple, raked gently, and hot sensation poured
through her. Her legs gave out and Jackson caught her, lifted her into his arms and strode back to the bed.

“I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you,” he said, settling her on the mattress and capturing her lips in another scorching kiss.

The words thrilled her, burned away any second thoughts she might have had. Held in thrall by his magnificent body, she watched him strip off his slacks and white cotton briefs. He was big and hard and her insides tightened at the thought of him entering her. Her mouth watered as if she wanted to eat him up.

“I want you, too,” she said, and then he was kissing her again, joining her naked on the bed, taking her deeply with his tongue. Her own tongue swept in, tangled with his, and she heard him groan.

Jackson kissed the side of her neck, trailed hot kisses down over her breasts, and he suckled her there. Sarah began to writhe, to arch upward in a silent plea for more.

“I need you,” she whispered, moving restlessly, urging him to take her.

“Soon, darlin'. First I want to taste you.” She wasn't sure what he meant until she felt his tongue circling her navel, moving lower, felt the wetness of his kisses on the inside of her thighs.

“Jackson!” she cried out at the feel of his mouth on her sex, the slick heat of his tongue. Hot sensation flooded into her core, gripped her like a fist. The first climax hit like a tidal wave, shattering the last of her reserve, immersing her in a wave of pleasure that threatened to pull her under and never let go. She came a second time before he left her, moved above her, settled himself between her legs.

She tasted herself on the kiss that followed, and renewed desire swamped her, so powerful she barely noticed when he paused to slip on a condom. She was drenched and ready but, as big as he was, it took an effort to ease his way inside.

“It's all right, darlin'.” He kissed the side of her neck. “We don't have to rush.”

When he filled her completely at last, he paused and she realized he was fighting for control.

“Don't move,” he whispered, bending to press a soft kiss on her lips. “Stay exactly where you are.”

Sarah just smiled. She loved that she could do this, keep him on the very edge. She shifted, took him deeper still.

Jackson cursed softly, and then he began to move. She could feel the hot need burning through him as he pounded into her, took her with long deep, furious strokes that had her moaning and arching beneath him.

“Jackson!” she cried out as a fresh climax shook her, splintered her into a thousand pieces. An instant later, he followed her to release, his muscles tightening, a low growl coming from his throat.

Long seconds passed. He was still hard inside her when he rolled over, taking her with him, letting her lie across his chest.

He looped a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You were amazing,” he said, pressing a last soft kiss on her lips.

“So were you,” she said. From somewhere deep inside her, Andrew's image flashed through her head—Andrew demanding she yield to him, Sarah giving in though whatever they had shared was long gone, enduring his
touch but gaining no pleasure. Until he no longer came to her at all.

She shook her head, refusing to let him intrude—not now, not in a moment that belonged to her and Jackson.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice changing, roughening with concern. “I didn't scare you?”

A sweet warmth filled her that he should care. “You didn't scare me.” In fact, she had never enjoyed lovemaking so much, never really known how good it could be.

She leaned down and kissed him, her hair falling forward, cocooning them in a world of their own. Jackson's erection stirred inside her, grew thicker, turned rock hard.

“I want you again,” he said, “but I don't want to hurt you.”

But the only one who had hurt her was Andrew and he would never hurt her again.

Sarah shifted, sat up astride him. She smiled as she lifted herself a little, then slid back down his hardened length. She moved that way again, felt the tension return to his body, felt his building desire. She had no idea what tomorrow might bring, whether the past would put an end to her future. Soon tomorrow would come, but tonight belonged to her.

Sarah meant to take this moment and hold it close to her heart.

 

As was his habit, Jackson awakened in the gray light of dawn. Beneath the covers he was hard. A beautiful woman lay beside him and he wanted her again.

He would not wake her. She needed her sleep, needed her strength to face the day ahead.

He sighed into the dim light slipping into the bedroom. The morning traffic was still sparse enough he could hear the waves rolling up on the beach. He looked over at Sarah, admired the way her glossy dark hair spread over the pillow, noticed the swell of a breast, barely covered by the white cotton sheet, and hardened even more.

Jackson softly cursed. Sliding out of the bed, he padded over to the closet, pulled out one of the terry cloth robes the hotel provided, and went into the living room to order coffee and breakfast rolls. He closed the door softly behind him, thinking of Sarah and the fantastic night they'd shared.

He couldn't stop wondering about her, how she had survived a man like Andrew, what made her the strong woman she seemed to be when she should have been defeated and weak.

He would find out, he vowed. There was something about Sarah Allen that made him want to know all of her secrets.

Then again, the more he knew, the more he might be drawn to her, the more easily he might fall prey to the charms that had captured him sixteen years ago.

He wasn't ready for that.

He would have to be careful. But then
careful
was Jackson's middle name.

 

Sarah awoke with a start. For an instant, she didn't know where she was. Then she remembered—she had seduced Jackson Raines.

Embarrassment burned through her. There was no
denying it. She had gone brazenly into his room and practically demanded he have sex with her.

Not that he had minded.

Her embarrassment slowly faded. Jackson was an extremely virile man and an amazingly satisfying lover. It had been no hardship for him to make love to her.

And certainly no hardship for her.

They had made love three times last night, and it was one of the best nights of her life. No,
the
best night, she corrected. Everything that had happened between them had been wonderful.

But wonderful had a way of disappearing, leaving heartbreak in its wake.

Sarah shivered. What she had shared with Jackson was special, but it couldn't last. There was too much pain in her past—and too many problems ahead.

She rose from the bed, grabbed her silk robe off the floor and slipped it on. She refused to lie to herself. She was free of Andrew but her life was still a mess. Danger lurked behind every corner. Beginning any sort of relationship wouldn't be fair to Jackson.

And it wouldn't be fair to her and Holly.