Aim For Love (22 page)

Him loving someone else was the most insurmountable and depressing possibility of all.

Whatever his reason, he clearly hadn’t been ready to tell her. And still she’d pushed him beyond the point where he’d clearly wanted to stop.

Not that he hadn’t loved her body well—she’d never been so physically satisfied.

But now, outside those heady moments, she felt the letdown. She’d imagined the sex would be enough, but she was already well beyond that point and wanting more. Needing more.

And yet her lover obviously didn’t have the same needs.

At least not where she was concerned.

She slipped her feet over the side of the bed and donned the borrowed cotton kimono. The door to his room creaked as she opened it. She peered into the hallway and then, seeing no one, scooted down the hall to the guest room. Her pounding heart made her feel like a teenager afraid of being caught. But she sure wasn’t up for a square-off with Kaz’s grandmother.

She turned on the shower. When the water ran hot, she stood under the flow, thinking.

What she needed was to get back to her life, get her feet firmly under her. The last few days had been intense; she needed to sort out her confused feelings for Kaz away from his influence.

Right. Who was she trying to fool?

She wasn’t confused. She was in love with him. Her heart had crossed over into the territory it craved without waiting for any signal from her.

After she dressed, she checked her messages. Natasha had moved the first day of shooting to the following Monday. She’d head back, get herself sorted. Deal with Derrick. One thing for sure, her night with Kaz cleared up any thought that Derrick was in any way a man she could love. How she’d ever imagined he
could
have been just showed how off-kilter she’d been for the past few months.

There was just one problem: she didn’t have a car. She looked up a car rental place on her phone. The closest was twenty miles away.

She donned her slippers and headed downstairs. The tailored linen suit she’d worn to the gallery opening felt out of place on the farm. Her tumbling thoughts
were
out of place on the farm.

Neither Kaz nor his grandmother was in the kitchen when Sabrina came downstairs. She poured a cup of lukewarm tea from a teapot on the table and stepped outside.

The petals of a few early blooming flowers danced in the breeze. The day was cool, not stifling as it had been on her first visit. If the morning was any indication, life in a peach orchard was even lovelier than in the vineyard surrounding Trovare.

She sat and propped her feet on the porch railing. As she settled back and sipped her tea, she noticed a bright yellow sports car parked at the end of the drive. She hadn’t heard anyone pull up. But then, after she and Kaz had made love, she’d slept soundly.

She set the cup on the railing and headed down toward the shrine.

And stopped dead when she saw Kaz talking to a woman by the wooden pillars.

The woman had her back to Sabrina. Kaz leaned down and took her hands in his. Both hands. In both of his. In the hands that had held her through the night. The hands that had stroked her…

The woman shook her head, and Sabrina saw that it was the woman from the café. Stacy. Kaz leaned closer to her. Very close. He was going to kiss her. Sabrina’s heart stuttered, and though some perverse part of her wanted to watch, she quietly turned and hurried back to the house.

She might have shared Kaz’s bed, but she clearly had read too much into the experience. He’d tried to tell her, tried to warn her. He couldn’t have known that his warning had come too late.

She’d best tell him she had to get back and keep it to that. But the thought of him driving her, of riding in a car with him, was unbearable. She pulled her phone from her pocket and called the rental place. The outrageous sum she offered was enough to have them agree to drive a car out to her, with another following to collect the driver.

She banged around the kitchen, looking for a coffee maker. Green tea was simply not going to cut it. A strong dose of caffeine might get her over the Tehachapi Pass and on the way to LA.

Anger rose in her, churning and tightening the muscles of her throat. She pressed her hands against the cool kitchen counter and took a breath. Then another. She rarely allowed anger to surge and even more rarely allowed the emotion any expression. But right then she felt it to her toes.

Her body shook with it.

And she told herself it was only rage, not rage and disappointment. Not rage mixed with heartache.

She looked out the window and watched Kaz help Stacy into her car, watched him lean in before closing the door. With a groan, she threw the towel she’d been mangling across the kitchen.

She stormed up to the guest room, kicking herself for deceiving herself about men once again. She should just give them up. If not forever, for a while. First she’d fooled herself about Derrick and now Kaz. Alex was right: she was lousy at finding love for herself.

When the rental cars pulled up into the drive, she ran down to meet them.

“You’re leaving?” Kaz asked as she dashed outside. His face was tight with shock. Though she tried, she couldn’t ignore the scent of his sweat. Every memory of being with him in the night was seared into her brain.

“I see you’ve been working.” She didn’t succeed in keeping the edge out of her voice. “Apparently we both have other things to do today.”

Damn
. Anger was a wily beast. And jealousy always unleashed the beast’s claws.

But she mustn’t be jealous
. Had no cause to be.

While she’d waited for the rental car, she’d planned a gentle ending, had imagined it from beginning to end and had rehearsed her lines. He hadn’t done anything wrong, they had no agreement. There was no reason to make things hard on him.
She’d
been the one to go into his room, to seduce him. It was
her
ridiculous fantasies that had tangled everything up. Or maybe the
harai
was to blame. Whatever—she was riled, confused and needed to get out of there before she said something she’d regret.

“I am leaving.” Her voice had a hard edge in spite of her best intentions. She took a breath but it didn’t calm the hammering in her chest. “The shoot’s been moved up.”

“I can drive you,” Kaz said. He turned to the driver. “We won’t be needing you.” He reached for his wallet.

Sabrina marched to the driver and took the keys from his hand. She slipped by him and into the rental car. Her hand shook as she inserted the key. As she drove away without saying another word, she saw Kaz raise his hands. It was the first gesture of defeat she’d ever seen him make. She thought about that gesture all the way back to LA.

Chapter Eighteen

Kaz kicked at a rock at the side of the driveway.

What a
hell
of a morning.

Stacy had shown up with no warning while he was meditating down at the shrine. He should’ve called her back days ago. He’d meant to. But after five years, he hadn’t imagined there was any kind of a rush.

He hadn’t expected her tears. She had to move on, she said. There were things she needed to make right. She wanted his blessing, his forgiveness. But when he asked what she wanted his blessing for, she’d clammed up. She promised to tell him soon. And said he’d be proud of her when she did tell him. But that was all he could get out of her. Whatever she was up to, he had a bad feeling about it. A very, very bad feeling. Stacy ran on impulse, he knew that from years before. And impulse was not a fuel for rational action.

He should know. His own impulse had landed him in the fix he was in.

But as he’d locked eyes with Sabrina before she left, he knew that a force far deeper and stronger than impulse had driven him to love her.

Sabrina’s sudden departure had surprised him, but her stormy mood had surprised him even more.

He toyed with calling her, but decided it was safer to wait until she got back home. No need to rile her emotions with a long drive ahead of her.

After Sabrina left he’d found worms in the south orchard—not many, but enough to tell him it would be another tough year.

The only bright spot in the morning was the call from his agent. If he played well in the exhibition games, his agent was pretty sure he could get him seven figures instead of the minimum salary. Right about then, seven figures sounded better than good. It’d take half a million just to fund the improvements they needed at the farm.

He was headed out to inspect the north acreage for worms when a sheriff’s cruiser pulled up.

Greg Midland, now
Sheriff
Greg Midland, exited the cruiser. “Just the man I need to see,” he said without his usual jolly smile.

Kaz was still getting used to seeing Greg in a sheriff’s uniform.

Greg and he had been on the same Little League and high school ball teams. Greg was a cheery fellow, but not much of an athlete. He had gone in for girls and football their sophomore year in high school. Baseball just didn’t have as much appeal as the ladies, he’d said.

“You saved me a trip,” Kaz said, extending his hand. “I was headed into town later to talk to you about the meth lab.”

“Meth lab?” Greg repeated, his mouth twitching at the corners.

“I called it in. Ten days ago. Roberto and I discovered it along the back perimeter of the orchard. That’s too close for me, Greg. They’re involved in extortion too. Maybe you already know about that.”

Greg shifted from one foot to the other. “I should warn you, Kaz, you have rights. You might want to talk to your attorney before you say more.”

“It wasn’t my lab, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Jeez, man, I know that. But I heard you assaulted a man over at the Mendieta place a couple days ago.”

“He pulled a gun on me. I simply disarmed him.”

“He’s dead,” Greg said, watching Kaz’s eyes. “Beheaded with a Japanese sword. One that has your fingerprints all over it. We matched them from your notary files.”

“That’s impossible. My grandfather’s sword is down in the shrine.” But as the words left his mouth, Kaz realized he hadn’t seen the sword that morning, hadn’t even looked at it. Stacy had shown up and distracted him from his routine, and after Sabrina left, he’d never gone back.

“Would I be here if it were impossible? The sword is down at forensics now. Like I said, you might want to get a lawyer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say to me can be used in a court of law.”

Kaz waved a hand. “That’s enough. You can’t think I did this, that I killed a man.”

“It’s Miranda procedure, part of my job.” Greg raked a hand through his hair. “Want to tell me where you were last night?”

“Here. All night.”

“Anybody able to verify that?”

“My grandmother. And my…our guest.”

“I’ll need that guest’s name. And I’ll need to talk to your grandmother.”

“I’m leaving for spring training tomorrow, Greg.” This was
not
happening. He was not being accused of murder the day before spring training. He shook his head at the absurdity.

“For now, you’ll need to stick around town. You can post bail, but it’ll be steep. And there will be conditions attached.” He reached into the cruiser and turned off the engine. “I’m sorry about this, Kaz. And I’d like to take a look at that shrine.”

Greg followed him down the path to the shrine. Kaz put out an arm, stopping him before they entered.

“It’s gone.”

“Don’t go in. I’ll need to tape this off.” He looked to Kaz. “There’ll be footprints, maybe other evidence.” He held Kaz’s stare. “I’ll have to take you in.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “It’s a warrant to search the property.” He stepped back. “I’m sorry, Kaz.”

Adrenaline enflamed the rage Kaz could barely control. He fisted his hands and resisted the urge to throw something, anything.

“It’s an asinine charge,” he bit out.

“Yeah,” Greg said flatly. But he backed up a step as he said it.

After Kaz was photographed and fingerprinted, Judge Englebright released him and gave him twenty-four hours to post a percentage bail. Because it was a capital crime, the bail was set at one million dollars. Kaz would have to post ten percent. Where he’d come up with a hundred thousand dollars in a day, Kaz had no idea. Rage pounded in his chest as he followed Greg out of the courtroom. Being unjustly accused was something his family had suffered enough. And being accused of something as horrific as beheading a man was unthinkable.

Martin Erickson stepped out of the café as he and Greg walked down the courthouse steps.

“Heard the news. Nasty business,” Martin said.

Kaz’s surprise was mirrored in Greg’s face.

“Radio report. One of my many hobbies. Let me know if you need help with the bail.”

“No thanks,” Kaz bit out.

“Just trying to help, neighbor to neighbor.”

“No thanks,” Kaz repeated and followed Greg to the cruiser.

“Where’s the sword?” Kaz asked as Greg drove him back to the farm.

“You won’t get that back, even if you’re cleared. It’s evidence, so it’ll stay locked up.”